#v: paroled

[killrate]

“ i was already calm, asshole. ” / aitheros jfjsjs

♡ @aitheros

In what is spectacularly, record-time for Sting, that's really all it takes to irk her. To a spectator, the instant change in her expression may have been somewhat comical - because what was previously a wide-eyed and mildly mortified expression, had instantly dropped to furrowed brows and a curled lip.

❝I─okay, watch your mouth, asshole, you're talking to a lady!❞ She says in some hybrid between a whisper and a snarl.

In spite of this, she is keeping her eyes fixed on that monstrosity that lurks above, in the trees. It's still several yards away from them, but a spider that size ( three feet at least ) hunts human prey. And it is likely not alone. She's not scared of spiders, really - it's the size of the thing. And she's positive that Sting's also not particularly intimidated by the number of legs, but rather the fact that its body is larger than both their heads.

And they're resistant to poison, so... Mary had better remember those biology books well, if she's going to be able to cast Virus on it effectively.

❝C'mon, you hit it first - you're a dragon slayer!❞ She spares less than a full second to shoot him a desperate glance, before focusing back on the beast. ❝Unless you're too chickenshit.❞

If nothing else, Mary has the audacity.

/ from some prompt i can't find. ♡

[martyrbat]

world's finest (2009) #2

like sorry but how are you going to have beef with a child. hes literally little kitty cat coded....

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: //pinches yumeno's cheeks

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted ) ☆ :-

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ! You have pinched the SOFTEST and SQUISHIEST of cheeks. They don't really care though ... mainly because they're confused since no one's ever pinched their cheeks before.

[lovesaved]

we have no information on the man other than that he's gonna be in jail for basically ever & he was a theatre kid but i think it would be funny as fuck of me to write warren's dad from s.ky high so i can add him to my arson enthusiast collection.

[midmare]

new tags i.

☽ ＼ ( out of character ) .

☽ ＼ in character .

☽ ＼ ( memes || prompts ) .

☽ ＼ dash game .

☽ ＼ ( promotion ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ wicked and hellbent … ( study i :: headcanon ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ they call me an omen … ( study ii :: visage ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ madness calls to me at night … ( study iii :: musing ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ shadows on my wall don’t sleep … ( study iv :: aesthetic ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ save me your prayers … ( study v :: canon div ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ a villain in a black dress … ( study vi :: wardrobe ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ my nightmares sing me off to sleep … ( pt i :: oracion seis ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ i’m the one i fear the most … ( pt ii :: crime sorciere ) .

☽ ＼ ‘ i fight with you in my sleep … ( pt iii :: pardon || parole ) .

[latenightdaydreams]

Okey, I hope this request makes sense.

But just imagine König with a shy, younger, insecure girlfriend who's inexperienced and chubby.

König adores every bit of her which obviously includes her body!!

Reader knows that, but she's still hesitant and shy, even though she wants to sit on his lap. She wants to lay on top off him when they cuddle. She wants him to manhandle her. She wants to ride him when they fuck for the first time.

But the cute, pathetic little doll is too scared too ask! Worried she'll do it wrong or that he'll realise that his exes were better or that he'll realise that he wants her to be smaller.

~🌟

As a chubby and shy girly myself, yessss🤭😏😮‍💨

König x Chubby!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, fingering, p in v, insecurity, chubby reader

1.7k word count

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König saw you for the first time he was paroling around a college campus. You were wearing skinny jeans that hugged your wide hips, thick thighs, and apron belly. Your lavender top complimented your skin that looks so smooth, your large breast the bounce with ever step you take. He couldn’t focus on anything but the way you walked, so he decided to take a shot and approach you.

Ever since that your first date, König has been obsessed with you and you can’t understand why. He’s a wealthier older man, well established in life, his body 280lbs of solid muscles. It just doesn’t make sense- to you. To König your body is perfect the way it is.

You’ve been a chubby person your whole life and because of that you’ve never really dated. You’ve only ever had two boyfriends before and sexually have don’t nothing past missionary. With König, you want him to bend you over or throw you on the bed. You want to get on his cock and ride him until he cums. He’s strong enough to, yet you can’t find yourself asking for more. In a way you’re embarrassed to want this. What if he can’t lift you? What if he thinks you’re just too much and would rather have a smaller girlfriend? This is the reason you both haven’t had sex yet. He hasn’t even seen you naked yet, only the occasional boob pic.

König is well aware of your insecurities and he tries to reassure you as much as he can about how much he loves you. His hands always finding their way around your waist to rest on your belly, snaking down your hips to grab your thighs. He can never stop telling you how perfect you are. It’s hard to not compliment you when you walk around the house wearing tight little outfits that show off all of your curves.

Today was like any other day, you came over early to spend the day with König as soon as he got off his shift. He was tired and dragged you into the bedroom to nap. He held you close to his shirtless body, your fingers tracing the outline of his muscles. His hand caresses your side, squeezing at the fat around your hips.

You wanted to lay on top of him, but you’re too bashful to ask. You view yourself as too fat for him to relax with you like that. You look at his face as he lays with his eyes closed. His blonde hair growing shaggy and makes him look more youthful for his age.

König can feel you watching him as he opens his eyes slightly, he smiles one he sees your precious face looking up at him.

“What is it, Maus?”

“Nothing.” You giggle.

“Tell me,” He pulls you closer to him, pressing your body tightly against his.

“I was just admiring you.”

“Ja?” He begins to shift with your body in his arms, easily pulling you on top of him chest.

You can’t help but to smile big, yet something in you was telling you that you shouldn’t be enjoying this.

“König,” You giggle and try to move.

“Stay, I need you closer.”

“But I’m heavy,” You roll slightly off of him, one of your legs still draped over his body.

“You aren’t to me.” His hand glides up your thigh until he feels the warmth of your vagina through your biker shorts. He begins to rub your pussy through your pants.

You let out a soft moan as you bury your face into his arm.

“I love your body…let me love it please Maus.” König moves his hand and slips his hand down the front of your pants.

You move to stop him, then you stop yourself and let him. His hand squeezes your stomach twice before moving down to your pussy. His fingers rubbing your clit softly.

“You’re already wet?”

“I like being close to you,” You giggle embarrassed by how wet you are.

.

.

Now you’re completely naked and laid out on the bed, legs spread wide apart as König fingers your gummy cunt.

“Tell me what you want, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear.

Being shy, you don’t reply. You don’t feel secure enough to speak your desires without a heavy fear of rejection. You just lay there and enjoy the feeling of him fingering you, but then he withdraws his fingers. You turn your head to look at him.

“If you don’t tell me what you want, I won’t let you cum.”

You can feel your face get hot with embarrassment, feeling as if you were just put on the spot.

“You have to use your words or I won’t know.” He kisses your forehead.

“I-” you begin to speak but feel too ashamed.

“Keep going,” his hand moves up to your belly and squeezes gently.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have wants? Don’t you want me to fulfill you?”

“I do but,”

“No buts, tell me.” König sits up waiting to hear.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re talking to me, I’m your König. Don’t be embarrassed.”

You smile and let out a long sigh before sitting up and kneeling on the bed before him. His eyes drop to look at how beautiful your body looks in this position. He wants to get behind you and fuck you like this, holding your head back. He snaps out of it and looks back at your eyes.

“Okay, well,” you take a deep breath. “I want you to manhandle me, toss me around and be rough. And I want to ride you, like be on top.”

König began to smile big as he was excited for this. He’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment you met, but he was always respectful and moved at your pace.

“But I’m scared that my size will be too much for you.”

“Never, you’re perfect as you are. I can handle you.” König begins to lay down, his hand tugging at his balls.

“Put your legs here,” he taps by his hips.

You blush, “But I don’t know what to do that. What if I’m bad?”

“Impossible, your pussy is your pussy. I’ll be pleased to be in it no matter what.” He laughs.

A small chuckle escapes your lips as he says that. You crawl to him and swing your leg over his to straddle his body. His hands go to your thighs and caresses them gently.

“I’m nervous.” You giggle, König smiling and chuckling lightly.

“Don’t be. I’ve got you. Lean forward a little.”

You do and König reaches his arm around you to grasp his cock and hold it upright for you. He slides his other hand up your thigh to your hips as he begins to press your hips down. You follow his motion and sit back on to his cock.

You let out small moans as you feel his size begin to fill your tight cunt. You sit all the way down on him, feeling a slight pain because of his length but you love knowing his cock is too big for you. König lets out a pleased sigh once you take him in fully. Your tight cunt is so warm and welcoming, it was worth the wait.

“Do whatever feels natural to you,” He looks beside him and grabs pillows from your side of the bed to prop his head up more so he can have a better view of you.

Slowly, you begin to rock your hips back and forth, causing you to whimper slightly. König keeps his hands at his side so he can resist the urge to lift you and fuck you.

“Is this okay?” You ask nervously, stopping you motion until he responds.

“Absolutely. Das ist fantastisch. Don’t stop.” He moves his hands to your thighs and begins to caress them.

You rock your hips back and forth slightly faster this time, letting out pathetic little whimpers as he grasped your hips and began to move you, following your motion.

“You’re doing so well,” König moans, “try bouncing Liebing.”

You nod and move your legs so that it is easier to bounce. His hands go down under your ass as you lift up, he helps. You slam down on his cock making the both of you moan out loudly. A smile comes across König’s face as he feels your ass jiggle in his hands and he can see your breasts and belly bounce as well. He’s been dreaming about the moment for so long.

“Fuck!” You yell and it surprises König.

His usually meek girlfriend is starting to show off a wilder side and it excites him.

“There you go, you look so fucking sexy y/n.” König’s eyes travel all over your body as it moves.

Your breathing gets heavier as you feel a strong pressure building spreading over your body, each thrust becoming more euphoric as you drop your head back. König watches you closely and realizes that you’re about to orgasm. You change motion and begin to rock your hips back and forth again.

“Your cocks so fucking big!” You moan loudly as your hands go to his thighs and grind his dick further into your sopping wet cunt. You begin to cum as your body trembles and your pussy clenches around him.

König moves his hands off of you and lets you ride it out as he enjoys the show. Your breasts bouncing in his face as you as your tight pussy tries to milk his cock. Your beautiful eyes rolling back. He wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

“Ride my cock, use my cock like a fucking dildo. Fuck…” His voice cracks from pleasure as he reaches out and squeezes your breast with one hand as he grabs the bed sheets tightly with the other hand.

“Liebling, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum, cum in me.” You recklessly say.

König quickly moves his arms to your body and leans you forward. He readjusted his legs and he began to thrust in into you rapidly. Your ass rippling with every connection. You moan loudly as König breaths hard, eyes closed, as he focuses on his orgasm.

“Oh Gott!” His cock throbs, painting the inside of your walls with his sticky white cum.

Both of your bodies cover in sweat, König begins to kiss the side of you face and neck as both of you breath heavy and try to calm down.

“You were amazing Maus.”

You giggle and hide your face in your hands. He laughs and squeezes you tightly against his body. He is already ready for round two, ready to see your body in a different position.

[pompadourpink]

Literal French expressions

À deux - at two

À la + n. - in the style of

À la carte - at the menu

À la mode - in fashion

Amateur - lover

Après-ski - after skying

À propos - about

Armoire - wardrobe

Art nouveau - new art

Au naturel - plain

Au pair - at the peer

Auteur - author

Avant-garde - before guard

Bête noire - black beast

Blasé - jaded

Bon appétit - good appetite

Bon voyage - good journey

Boutique - shop

Buffet - credenza

Bureau - office

Canapé - couch

Carte blanche - white card

C'est la vie - that's life

Chauffeur - warmer (n.)

Chef - leader

Cliché - picture

Clique - gang

Connaisseur - "knower"

Coup d'état - blow of state

Coup de grâce - blow of mercy

Coup de foudre - blow of lightning

Couture - sewing (n.)

Cul-de-sac - ass of the bag

Début - beginning

Débutante - beginner

Déjà-vu - already seen

Dénouement - untying

Dossier - file

Double entendre - double hear

... du jour - of the day

Eau de toilette - washing water

Eau de vie - life water

Encore - again

Ennui - boredom

En route - in road

Ensemble - together

Entourage - people surrounding you

Entrepreneur - starter (n.)

Essai - attempt

Esprit de l'escalier - spirit of the stairs

Étiquette - label

Exposé - exposed

Façade - frontage

Faux pas - fake step

Femme fatale - deadly woman

Film noir - black movie

Fin de siècle - end of century

Flâneur - "stroller"

Femme - woman

Folie à deux - madness at two

Foyer - fireplace, home

Gamine - female kid (casual)

Gauche - left

Gendarme - person of weapons

Je ne sais quoi - I don't know what

Laissez-faire - let (someone) do (imperative)

Laissez-passer - let (someone) pass

L'appel du vide - the call of the void

Lingerie - underwear

Maître d' - master o'

Mardi gras - fat Tuesday

Matinée - morning

Ménage à trois - household at three

Mon/ma chéri-e - my cherished

Montage - mounting

Motif - pattern

Mural - on the wall (adj.)

Né-e - born

Négligé - neglected

Nom de plume - feather name

Parole - word

Petite - small (adj.)

Pied-à-terre - foot on land

Poilu - hairy

Pot pourri - rotten pot

Pourboire - for drink

Première - first

Prêt-à-manger - ready to eat

Protégé - protected

Renaissance - rebirth

Rendez-vous - appointment

Répertoire - directory

Résumé - summary

Risqué - risked

Robe - dress

Rouge - red

RSVP - answer please

Sans-culottes - without pantaloons

Savant - "knower" (n.)

Savoir-faire - know how to do (v.)

Savoir-vivre - know how to live

Séance - session

Soirée - evening

Souvenir - memory

Suite - sequel, development

Surveillance - careful watching

Tête-à-tête - head to head

Touché - touched

Tour - circuit

Trompe-l'oeil - cheats the eye

Venue - came

Vignette - sticker, label

Vis-à-vis - face to face

Voyeur - "seer"

Ballet vocabulary:

Allongé - laid down

Balancé - swinged

Balançoire - swing (n.)

Battu - battered

Brisé - broken

Chassé - chased

Chaînés - chained

Ciseaux - scissors

Coupé - cut

Dégagé - cleared

Développé - developed

Échappé - escaped

En cloche - in bell

En croix - in cross

Entrechat - between braid

En pointe - in tip

Failli - almost did

Fouetté - whipped

Glissade - sliding

Plié - bent

Jeté - thrown

Manège - carousel

Pas de bourrée - drunk step

Pas de chat - cat step

Pas de cheval - horse step

Pas de deux - step of two

Pas de valse - waltz step

Penché - leaned

Piqué - pricked

Port de bras - carry of arms

Relevé - lifted back up

Renversé - titled, bent backwards

Retiré - removed

Rond de jambe - leg circle

Temps de flèche - arrow time Tendu - stretched

Temps lié - linked time

Tombé - fallen

Tour en l'air - turn in the air

Kitchen vocabulary:

Amuse-bouche - mouth entertainer

Bain-Marie - Mary bath

Café au lait - milky coffee

Casserole - pot

Cordon bleu - blue ribbon

Crème brûlée - burnt cream

Crème de la crème - cream of the cream

Crème fraîche - fresh cream

Croissant - crescent

Éclair - lightning

Entrée - entrance

Filet mignon - cute net

Flambé - blazed

Foie gras - fat liver

Fondant - melting

Fondue - melted

Gourmet - foodie

Hors d'oeuvre - out of the work

Légume - vegetable

Liqueur - liquid

Mille-feuille - thousand leaf

Mousse - foam

Pâté - pasted

Roux - redhead(ed)

Sauté - jumped

Sautoir - "jumper"

Soufflé - blown

Velouté - velvety

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[ednven]

i like that mindset. gonna say that if the police show up.

i think this is u?

why is my room covered in chocolate wrappers and shitty crayon drawings of like everyone we met in the last 2 days

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (V)

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go with the fifth chapter! Introducing new characters, and spending some time at Trinity for this one…

Also, chose a French poem for this one because it fit the theme very well, but I couldn’t find a decent translation, so I translated the poem myself… it isn’t particularly good, sorry about that, but it’s not worse than the other translations I’ve found, sadly…

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2110

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Writing Page

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

Repeat! Says the teacher

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

But here comes the lyrebird Passing through the sky The child sees it The child hears it The child calls it

Save me Play with me Bird!

So the bird descends And plays with the child

Two and two four…

Repeat! Says the teacher

And the child plays And the bird plays with him…

Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen And sixteen and sixteen what do they make? They don’t make anything sixteen and sixteen And especially not thirty-two Anyway And they go away.

And the child has hidden the bird Inside his desk And all the children Hear its song And all the children Hear the music

And eight and eight leave as well And four and four and two and two In turn go away And one and one don’t linger once nor twice One by one they leave too

And the lyrebird plays And the child sings And the teacher cries :

When you are done fooling around!

But all the other children Listen to the music And the walls of the classroom Peacefully crumble.

And the windows turn back into sand The ink turns back into water The desks turn back into trees The chalk turns back into a cliff The quill turns back into a bird.

Jacques Prévert, Paroles, 1946 – original title : “Page d’écriture”

September was grey and rainy, or rather, it withheld the doom of a storm within its dark clouds. The ground was drenched, making the curb darker than usual, the earth smelling sweet and rich with water and life, the leaves glistening in darker shades of green. As Saoirse finally entered the grounds of Trinity College, her steps echoed louder than usual on the glistening pavement.

Finally. Finally, Saoirse was a college student, independent and entering adulthood. That was how she felt, anyway. Even though she still lived with her parents on the outskirts of Dublin, was still a student… at 18 she felt like entering university was the beginning of womanhood, of adulthood, and she was excited about it. Excited, and terrified.

If she knew a few people on the campus, she was the only one studying English, and the loneliness that came with the new experience of university was adding to her anxiety. She looked around, a little lost but trying to look like she knew where she was going. She was trying to reach her first meeting, this first day being dedicated to integration, an introduction to the life on campus and a quick presentation of the classes they would follow this year. The classes themselves were only starting the following week. This orientation week was focused on the ways of university, on clubs and other useful information for students.

But Saoirse had been on campus for less than ten minutes and she was already feeling overwhelmed, with the small white tents along the lawns that presented clubs for students to join in, with the crowd and its loud chatter pulling her attention in all directions…

All of a sudden, there was another undergraduate student staring down at her, an amused smile on her lips.

“You look lost! Want some help?”

She was wearing a badge from a theatre club, a tired look on her face and an hyper-active glimmer in the eyes that revealed she drank too much caffeine.

“Erm… I’m fine, I just…”

“That’s alright! It’s your first day, you’re allowed to be lost. Let me help! Where is it you’re going?”

“Erm… the English department…”

“Ha, no worries, I’ve got you! I’m an English major too! Come on!”

Before Saoirse could speak another word, this stranger had turned on her heels and was making a bee-line through the crowd. Saoirse followed her the best she could, bumping into students and apologising profusely in the process, until they had reached a second yard that was much calmer. She hurried after her guide, almost running to catch up with her.

“There is the library,” the stranger said, pointing at a large building, a sculpted globe decorating the space before its door. “Note where it is, you’ll spend most of your time there while studying here. And no matter what you do, avoid the tourist attraction around the Book of Kells. Busiest place on campus, and some real chaos over there. This side isn’t as fancy, it’s more concrete and metallic shelves than beautiful wood and carvings, but it’s quiet and withholds all the information you’ll need for your classes. We often see some of our teachers hanging around there too. Who is it you’re gonna have this year?”

“Erm… I’m not quite sure…”

“You should have your schedule during the week. If you can, avoid Mahon and Patterson. They’re not bad teachers, but they are terrible human beings. Proper gobshites the two of them. I heard H-B is teaching about Yeats this year; if you can, take this class, and avoid Mahon’s lecture about science-fiction. Trust me. On paper, it sounds that poetry is harder and more boring, but Mahon is going to reap you apart, when H-B is probably the sweetest teacher at Trinity.”

“H-B?” Saoirse asked, trying to keep up with both the fast pace of her guide and her precious information that she delivered at a relentless speed.

“Hozier-Byrne. Everybody calls him H-B around here, name’s too long. Or just Hozier. Anyway, he’s a sweetheart. He’ll actually care about whether or not you pass his class. Also, he’s got the prettiest mug on campus, so it doesn’t hurt to see him once or twice a week,” she laughed, throwing her head back like a child.

The two girls kept on chatting while they were waiting in the corridor for the meeting to start, and Saoirse tried to get as much information in as she could.

Before leaving, her guide had one last advice.

“Come to the S2S mentoring program this afternoon. I’m part of the mentors, we’ll give you a full tour and help you register for your classes. Also, we’ll help you to find your tutor among the academic staff, to get into a club or society… stuff like that. Oh, the name’s Gabi, by the way! I’m one of the mentors for the English department, so if you want, you can come and find me at the meeting.”

“Thank you so much,” grinned Saoirse.

“Hey, no worries! I used to be a lost freshwoman too, back in the days! You should go in for the boring meeting, General Session… Tomorrow’s meeting about your classes will be more interesting.”

With one last thank you, Saoirse finally entered the room, found a seat, remained silent, not daring to speak with the students around her.

She looked at the blackboard, the desk and chair and microphone for the absent professor.

Fucking hell, she was starting university…

Saoirse listened to Gabi’s advice, looked for the S2S Mentoring meeting, scheduled for 2:30 pm. It was easy to spot the exuberant student, as she laughed with her friends, and she greeted Saoirse with a grin. She followed Gabi’s group for the full tour of the campus, along with a small group of freshmen. She chatted with a couple of them, especially Donal, whose colourful nails and vibrant make-up matched his buoyant personality. They then settled in a large classroom, scattered into small groups and each mentor helped their students with registering for their classes, gave them advices and a little bit of gossip.

Gabi helped Saoirse log into the orientation website and access the right page for her to register to her classes.

“You can change the classes you’ve selected up to the 23rd,” explained Gabi, “and after tomorrow’s meeting with your tutor and the presentation organised by the department, you’ll have a clearer view of what to choose. But you can still take a look now. Also, pay attention to the schedule. You can’t select classes that are happening at the same time. You can select a few classes now already if you want, just to be sure you’ll have a spot.”

Saoirse nodded, went through the list of classes.

On the schedule, the classes about Yeats’s poetry and science-fiction were clashing. She hurried to select the class about poetry, following her mentor’s advice.

She also selected a class about modernism taught by the same Hozier-Byrne, trusting Gabi that it was worth skipping a class about Shakespeare, not that she held much regret about avoiding that class, to be fair. She registered for a class about ‘the use of gender-normative language and patriarchal norms in modern literature’, excited about this class already.

“Erm… sorry…”

She turned towards the student by her side.

“Can you show me how to get into the schedule? I didn’t understand where I should click…”

He looked a little lost, a little overwhelmed, like most people in the room, and certainly as she felt herself. Dark hair, brown eyes. An attempt at a stubble colouring parts of his cheeks.

“Sure!”

She showed him how to log into the schedule, he thanked her, a little shy.

“I’m Sean, by the way.”

She grinned.

“Saoirse.”

He seemed nice, they kept chatting for the rest of the day. She hoped they would have classes in common…

Y/N Y/L/N.

Saoirse read and re-read the name of her tutor. There was a small group of students in the classroom, ready to meet the member of the academic staff who would be in charge of their well-being for the year. Sean was part of the group too, and they sat together on the third row. Donall was there too, he joined them as soon as he spotted Saoirse.

Y/L/N. Saoirse had recognised the name immediately, belonging to the teacher in charge of what seemed to be a very feminist class.

And indeed, when you entered the room, looking tired but benevolent, Saoirse liked you immediately. There was something in the way you spoke that was gentle, patient, that sounded like you actually cared, that you were happy to meet your students, too.

You gave your students some extra-information about their classes, gave them advices depending on the majors they wanted to select for the rest of their degree. You helped them register, you answered their questions. The meeting took longer than expected, but you didn’t seem to mind.

You smiled when you noticed Saoirse had already selected your class.

“Looks like we’ll see each other every week for a couple of months!” you smiled at her and Saoirse was even more excited about your class now.

“Yeah… the class seems very interesting.”

“I’ll do my best to make my babbling interesting, indeed,” you joked, before moving to Sean’s computer to check that he was managing.

And Saoirse had such a good feeling about this year. Things would turn out great, she was certain of it.

You let yourself fall into your office chair, letting out a tired groan. You heard Andrew’s chuckle, but chose not to acknowledge it. His meeting with the students had been a little briefer, he was already in the office when you had come in.

“You’re alright?” he asked, checking on you with an amused smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Exhausted.”

“It was to be expected…”

“Aren’t you exhausted too?”

“I’m on my fifth coffee of the day.”

You laughed at that.

“Hmm… looks like professors are as addicted to coffee as students.”

“It’s standard sleep-deprived diet.”

You looked over at him, and you exchanged a smile.

You weren’t friends, per say. Your break-up had made you more distant, and Andrew’s reaction to his own heartbreak had been to close in on himself. But you still got along, even though you weren’t close. A shame, you kind of regretted that. You could have been closer already, if it weren’t for your pain. Still, you chatted, and he helped you get used to Trinity, and you discussed your classes and his. You simply weren’t more than colleagues, and for now, it was fine. You couldn’t handle getting your heart broken and finding friendship at the same time. Your life was too messy for that. It was easier to build professional boundaries, and Andrew seemed to be in silent agreement. You hadn’t discussed much about your two separations, both preferring for that part of your lives to remain private, and outside the walls of Trinity.

The Heartbreak Department. You had joked about renaming your shared office that way, and Andrew had had no choice but to agree, it was quite on point. Perhaps it was this office, indeed. Maybe it was bringing bad luck, to both of you, when it came to love…

“I can’t wait for the weekend,” Andrew heaved a sigh, rubbing at his eyes before he would readjust his glasses.

“My weekend will be busy, though…”

Indeed, you had agreed to attend a party that Frank was hosting on Saturday night. He said that he had a big announcement to make, and you wondered what he meant by that. Also, his new girlfriend would be there. You hadn’t asked her name, weren’t interested in knowing anything about her, but you wanted to meet her, to see who had stolen your life away. Because that was what you had lost when Frank had left. It wasn’t just a break-up, it wasn’t a simple heartbreak… you had lost a wedding, a life you had planned and thought you would get to live. If you could have forgiven the pain of getting your heart broken, you couldn’t forgive the life that you felt had been stolen from you.

So, you were curious. Also, you were desperate, addicted, and wanted to see Frank, no matter why, where, or when…

“Mine is busy too, but orientation week is a lot.”

“It is, indeed.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, your head thrown back towards the ceiling.

You pictured Frank’s face against your eyelids, and couldn’t imagine that it had been over a month already that he had shattered your whole world…

[toxicanonymity]

Parole.

3k words, joel miller x f!reader

Jojo playlist, joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs

SUMMARY: PWP. Phone sex and just-got-out-of-jail sex.  

WARNINGS: I8+, dirty talk, jacking off, groping while driving, oral F receiving, Unsafe P in V intercourse, semi-public (bathroom). Reader can sit on a sink.

A/N: cellmate's nephew!Joel, part 3 of 3 (just 8k total) , follows Jailbird and Collect Calls but you just need to know his aunt Mabel is your cellmate. This is the last of Jailbird for the foreseeable future. It’s been a fun diversion.  This is not the last of Jojo.

—---

All goes well at your parole hearing. After you get your 72 Hour release notice, you call Joel. 

He answers the phone, "You're gettin' out," and you can hear his smile. 

"How did you–did Mabel tell you?"

"Had a feeling.  So what, 3 days now?" He opens and squirts the lube. 

"9pm Monday."

"You just made my dick so hard, baby."

"Jojo. . ."

"Hmm?"

"God, sorry - Joel"

"Call me whatever ya want, jailbird. Mm. Call me joel, call me jojo--mm, call me call me any time baby”

“Can’t wait to be on the other side of that glass.” 

"And I'm gonna pop that post-penny cherry" (post-penitentiary) 

“Shhh”

"What they're gonna un-parole ya 'cause there’s a hard dick waitin’ for ya?"

“Well, I like the sound of that,”  you purr. 

“Oh we’re gonna get nasty, baby,” he breathes. 

“Mmm”

“You wear thongs, g-strings, whatcha wear?” His fist slurps up and down his cock. 

“Thongs,” you tell him. “Boy shorts if I wanna be comfy.” 

“Damn. . . that ass in boy shorts?  Whew.” 

“How ‘bout you?”

“Boxer briefs.” 

“Mm, shoulda known. Those tight-ass pants”

“Yeah, ya like’em?”

“Like how ya wear’em”

“How’s that”

“Packing somethin’ fat and juicy for me.”

He moans. “Fuck yeah i am, just for you baby”

“Just for me?”

“‘S’all for you, baby. How ya want it first?”

“Honey, I just want it.”

“Can i come inside ya?”

“Mmmm, yeah. . .” 

“Fuck, i’m gonna pump you full,” his voice tells you he’s already close. 

“You better.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby.” His hand is moving faster. “Ohhh, fuck” He shudders and groans long and drawn out as he comes.

“Started without me didn’t ya” 

“Wouldn’t do that,” he says in a transparently false tone. 

“Hope ya can last longer than that,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Shit, maybe I can’t. ‘S’what ya do to me, baby.” 

“Then we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh I’m grocery shoppin’ like it’s the apocalypse. Won’t have to leave the house for a week.”

—------

Mabel gives you one last poke-and-stick tattoo, a heart on your other hand, mirroring the location of your "clover." The last thing she tells you is, “He’s snipped, ya know. I took care of him after he did it. ” 

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he knows he's not dad material," she explains, then lightens the mood with, "he's daddy, not dad," and a wink. 

You're gonna miss her. But if things go well with Joel, you’ll see her again in a few months. 

—----

Walking down the ramp from the tower toward the jail lobby, you can taste the freedom and almost forget what you’re wearing – booty skirt, platform heels, mesh crop top, fishnets. 

His posture is what catches your eye first. Feet spread, arms crossed. Your eyes fall to his bulge then pan up to a white t-shirt struggling to contain the tattooed arms crossed in front of him. Gold chain, Adam's Apple. As his face comes into focus, he tilts his head back and squints, pursing his lips in a pained expression as he looks at you. His expression is enough to remind you what you’re wearing. By the time you reach him, he’s biting his lip, shaking his head at you with his eyes smiling. 

He opens his arms and wraps around you for a full-body hug. He smells like fresh cologne, and he feels safe and comfortable.  He feels like – ohhh, yeah, he’s already getting hard. You’re holding a plastic bag of your belongings—phone and keys—against his back. 

“God damn,” he whispers into your hair and his pelvis subtly presses his growing arousal into you. He murmurs, “Mmm, let’s get the fuck outta here.” 

He grabs your hand and your shoes click as you walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot. As soon as the doors slide closed behind you, he drops your hand and grabs your ass.  His hand spans much more of your asscheek than you're used to. The beauty of the sky at dusk overwhelms you, even with the lights from the jail. 

“Let’s make it to the car,” you laugh. 

He puffs out his cheeks with an exhale and gets his keys out of his pocket with his free hand.  Then he points to a big truck and unlocks it. 

He opens the truck door for you and his hand on your ass helps you up into the seat. Oh the simple joy of getting in a vehicle. You start to grab the seatbelt, and he tells you, “nah, hold on a sec.” When he gets in the driver’s seat he slams up the center console, slides over and you turn to face him as he reaches you.  

He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face into his. His tongue parts your lips and his mouth is minty.  He sucks hard and gently chews your lips as he grabs your far thigh and puts it over his lap.  Then he grabs you by both hips and pulls you all the way into his lap with your help so you’re straddling him. When your crotch meets the warm steel rod in his pants, you whimper and he sighs vocally. Then your mouths connect again. You’ve been dying of thirst and he’s a tall glass of water; you just can’t get enough. 

His hands run down your fishnet thighs as you grind on him and make out. He playfully plucks one of the diamonds and murmurs in such a deep voice, “Thought ya weren’t wearin’ these, hmm?” Then he attacks your neck with his mouth, and you sigh.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see a Corrections Officer headed your way. 

“Shit,” you say, “We should go.” 

He groans. 

“They're comin’, we gotta go,” you repeat and pry yourself off of him. 

He takes a deep breath and his hips lift out of the seat as he adjusts himself, then scoots back over to the driver’s seat and buckles his seatbelt. You start to go back to the passenger seat and buckle yours, but he says, “get back over here.”  He hands you the middle seatbelt. 

—----

You tease, “we 'bout to peel outta here?”

"Buckle up, baby.” 

He puts his hand behind you to back up. A whiff of his sweat under the cologne makes you want him even worse. 

You awkwardly try to keep your hands to yourself. He’s the one driving, so you’ll let him initiate any distraction. "Where we headed?"

"How ‘bout we get ya some real food, ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

He gives a low whistle and says, “so could I, baby. can’t wait to taste ya." He looks at your legs. “Fuck.”  He puts his hand on your thigh, a ring pressing into your skin. “Mmm.” His voice is so deep. “Been savin’ this just for me, huh?'' His wrist pushes your skirt out of the way as his hand slides toward your crotch.  He finds your clit with ease, even while driving. He clearly knows what he’s doing and he could get you off like this in a minute or two, but he needs his hand back to make some turns. 

You put your hand on his meaty thigh and ask “can I. . .”

“*can* you? Fuck yeah you can” He lifts his elbow, welcoming your hand to his lap. 

You grab the bulge in his jeans and get a zap of need in your core. You slowly press your hand into his warm, hard package and feel the outline of his thick cock.  You’re aching for him. You’re about to ask him to pull over when he puts on the blinker and see you’ve arrived at Waffle House. 

“Here good?” He says as he pulls into a parking space.  

“Hell yeah,” you answer. 

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cause if ya don’t like WaHo, we ain’t gonna work anyway.” You both unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Oh, here," you take your hand back as he reaches back behind the passenger seat, and your eyes glue to his huge bulge. He hands you a leather jacket, and says, “Just if ya want it.”  It’s a little warm for it, but it’s a nice thought if you wanted to cover up. At WaHo, you don’t really care. That’s the magic of it. He reaches back behind the seat again and you glance at his earring. He returns with a target bag.

You peek into the bag. There’s a casual tank dress, flip flops, and . ..boy shorts. Your heart flutters that his dirty question led to such a wholesome gesture. 

“You bought me clothes?”

“Yeah, coulda brought some’a Mabel’s but–”

“That could get weird”

“Yeah.” 

—---

You walk in front of Jojo into the breezeway, then into the restaurant. No one bats an eye at how you’re dressed.  You hold up the bag of clothes and ask, “Mind if I change ‘fore we eat?” A waitress behind the counter leans to the side to look around you, checks Jojo out and says, “get it, girl.” 

“That’s what i’m talkin’ bout,” Jojo murmurs to you and gives her a wink. 

Both the individual bathrooms are occupied. Joel stands with his back against the wall facing the bathrooms, so y’all are waiting out of view of the grill. You’re facing him.  He grabs your ass with both hands, pulling you into him, massive erection straining his pants, yearning to get to you. His cock digs into your front.  You kiss him and he kneads your butt cheeks as your mouths consume each other. He moans quietly into your mouth.  His hard cock twitches against you. 

He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against your ear, then whispers “feel like i’m gonna die.” 

A toilet flushes. The bathroom smells faintly of cleaning supplies, and it doesn’t look dirty. The illusion of cleanliness is enough to not think about it. 

You wanna be right on top of him, but as he locks the door, you find yourself slowly taking a step backwards, watching him in anticipation, almost like you’re daring him to come after you and show you what he’s got.  He looks at you darkly and prowls toward you, unbuckling his belt, lips parted, eyes dark like a stalking animal.  You freeze. He unbuttons his jeans and walks until his hardness bumps into your thigh. 

Then, at a faster pace, he walks you almost all the way to the sink, then grabs your butt to stop you.  He hikes up your skirt so it's all the way over your ass. He grabs your ass with one hand and pulls you into him again. The strength of his erection through his exposed boxer briefs gives you another shock of arousal on top of your already desperate need. He pulls back his hips enough for his free hand to engulf your crotch.  His thick middle finger presses down on the (very) damp spot in your leggings. 

"Soaked for me, aren't ya?" The hand on your ass slides down and curls between your legs. His warm finger slips into one of the fishnet holes. 

He uses both hands, one from the front and one from the back, to rip open the fishnets. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. The hand from the back returns to your asscheek, while the other hand remains between your legs.  The side of his index finger meets your dripping seam. “Mmmmmm,” he slides his hand up and down for just a couple of seconds, then looks at the sink. “Think ya can sit up here?”

“mm. yeah, if you–”

He helps you onto the edge of the sink. You hold onto the sides and he immediately squats down with his head between your legs. 

“Just fuck me,” you say, dying to have him inside you. Your walls are twitching as though your cunt is making a gimme gimme motion like a fist.

“i gotta taste ya," he mumbles as he spreads your thighs.  “Sorry, just a sec.” He further rips the fishnets, exposing you to the cool air then sighs, “fuck,” as he reaches behind you to hold your ass. He whispers “just real quick,” his hot breath on your mound, before he plants his mouth on your cunt. 

He licks at your entrance.  “Mmmm,” he tongues and sucks your clit, then takes one hand off your ass to palm his boxer briefs. 

You fist his hair, sighing, “Ohh God, I need that cock, baby. We got time for this later.” You’re physically aching to be filled. 

He kisses your clit goodbye, then whispers, "god damn."  He puts both hands on your thighs as he stands up.  When he’s standing, he yanks his boxer briefs down and his naked cock bobs heavily, making you nearly drool. He’s shaved. It’s thick. Length-wise you might be able to take it. The girth will be a stretch. 

He curls his fingers under your mesh crop top and you raise your arms as he discards it. “Fuck it, you’re changin’, right?” He tugs at your bra, and you take it off. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he takes in the sight of your tits and can’t resist sucking a nipple into his mouth while palming the other. 

You grab his cock. “Are you gonna put this in me tonight or nah?”

“God damn, you need it don’t ya?” He wraps an arm around you  and you put your arms around his neck. He nudges you by the ass toward the edge.

“fuck just give it to me.” 

He runs his swollen, mauve tip through your slick, then notches it at your entrance and plunges into you with a groan. You gasp as his girth spreads you apart. You can’t remember the last time you felt a stretch like this. But he pushes it right in. You’re so turned on, it works. You watch his cock disappear into you. You glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open with a sigh of relief as his tip nudges your cervix and makes you whole. He sucks in a deep breath as he retreats, then says “FUCK, that’s a nice cunt.” 

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass and he begins to fuck you. You pull up his shirt and it’s so tight that it stays where you leave it. He has a slutty little hip tattoo that says yeah. His lips latch onto yours as he buries his length in you again and again.  It’s all sucking and biting and hot, humid breath as you moan against each other’s cheeks before your tongues are in each other’s mouths again. The bottom half of your face gets slobbery.  He fucks you like he means it, grunting and moaning, “oh yeah.” Your bodies are dewy where your skin meets. 

You wrap your legs around him. Your pelvis grinds against his and your orgasm is building. You tell him,  “Don’t hold back”

“You want me to last?” He asks as he pumps in and out of you. 

“In here?--ohhhh–time for that later” 

“Oh, you already close, ain’t ya?” he speeds up and his chain bounces with the power of his motions. “Fuck yeah, baby, c’mere, c’,mon” His cock pistons into you. It’s even better than you imagined so many times in your pathetic excuse for a bed. Oh shit, will you really sleep together? The thought of it melts you. The thought of a real bed alone melts you, but with him, with this cock inches away, god this cock, it feels so, it’s so—A primal grunt comes from his chest. His heavy breathing and grinding against your clit have you on the edge ready to tip. 

You whimper, “baby,” pinching your eyes shut. 

He grips your ass harder and grinds his shaved pubic bone into you as he fucks you smooth and fast. He fucks like a porn star. “C’mon, jailbird.” 

He buries his length in you even faster, then pleasure seizes your whole body and you come on his fat cock. 

“Ohhhhh yeah, fuck yeah,” he breathes. 

He thrusts into you a few more times, “fuck, baby,” then bottoms out and erupts. He sighs a long sigh as his warm release coats your insides. 

“Mmmm,” you savor the pulse of his cock and you twitch with aftershocks. “Oh, god.” He hugs you and you rest your head on his chest while you both catch your breath. His chain feels massive on on your cheek.

Someone finally knocks on the door.  He pulls out and helps you down off the sink. 

“Someone in here,” he tells them. He pulls up his pants, then leans against the tile of the bathroom wall as he zips them up and fastens his belt while you change. 

You thank him again for the clothes as you look in the mirror and turn around. 

“Look good on ya. Guess I did alright.” 

His face is flushed pink and his hair is a little messed up.  He seems to notice you looking at his face and he pushes himself off the wall to look in the mirror. He rakes his hand through his hair, then scratches one side of his beard, turning away from the mirror. 

–

You sit down for a late dinner. Neither of you look at the menu. Jojo orders cherry coke and a texas cheesesteak with double hashbrowns covered, smothered, and chunked. You order your favorite meal and he compliments it. Your eyes are on his forearms and tattoos. As he brings the sandwich to his mouth. God damn, how’d this fine ass man practically fall in  your lap? You feel like  you owe Mabel big time. 

You ask, “You really go grocery shoppin’?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles with his mouth full, nodding.  “Mmm-hmm.” After he finishes chewing he washes it down with a sip of cherry coke, then adds, “but you know what i really want.” He looks at you darkly. “So tell me it’s all you can eat, baby.” 

“Just for you, Jojo. . .”

-----

yeah he wants to be covered and smothered in that.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I love your passion and your comments and reblogs really motivate me. <333

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr.

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list ⚠️

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @selfnss asked: when they turn the corner towards the park, their path is obstructed by a uniformed man crouched down in the middle of the footpath, his gaze fixed firmly on the effort of an ant colony attempting to claim ownership of a chip a passerby had dropped.

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted ) ☆ :-

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝐎𝐇 ... 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘. The one thing standing ... or rather crouching between them and the coveted playground was a strange looking man doing even STRANGER things. Really, they COULD have just walked around him and avoided colliding paths entirely. But instead, the child BOLDLY approaches the man to get a closer look at just WHAT he was doing.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤWhat they find was ... a POTATO CHIP. A sad, little potato chip abandoned on the pavement. What was so interesting about that potato chip ? The child honestly didn't have a CLUE. Clearly the man was seeing SOMETHING that they didn't.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ ... Why are you just staring at a POTATO CHIP ? ❜

[aries-the-red05]

EVERYONE SHOULD BE TALKING ABOUT THIS!!!!!

Huge GIGANTIC TW for SA, mentions of rape, mentions of masturbation, and transphobia.

A 2018 report from the Indiana University Maurer School of Law along with a subsequent report in the UCLA Journal of Gender and Law, found that it was common for trans women placed in men's prisons to be assigned to cells with aggressive cisgender male cellmates as both a reward and a means of placation for said cellmates, so as to maintain social control and to, as one inmate described it, "keep the violence rate down". Trans women used in this manner are often raped daily. This process is known as "V-coding", and has been described as so common that it is effectively "a central part of a trans woman's sentence". The report also found it common for correctional officers to publicly strip search trans women inmates, before putting their bodies on display for not only the other correctional officers, but for the other prisoners. Trans women in this situation are sometimes made to dance, present, or masturbate at the correctional officers' discretion. The prisoners serving as customers for these women are informally referred to as "husbands". A 2021 California study found that 69% of trans women prisoners reported being made to perform sexual acts they would have rather not, 58.5% reported being violently sexually assaulted, and 88% overall reported being made to take part in a "marriage-like relationship". Trans women who physically resist the customer's advances are often criminally charged with assault and placed in solitary confinement, the assault charge then being used to extend the woman's prison stay and deny her parole.

This not only happens in the USA, but happens globally and there has been documented cases of it happening in France and the UK as well.

Many people aware of it fear that it will drastically increase after Trump's Project 2025 as trans women are arrested and imprisoned for simply existing in public, this is a real possibility, and the influence can spread globally to cause other nations to do this too.

Best I can say is: SPREAD AWARENESS PEOPLE!

Written by u/communistsorcerer

Commented on a post by u/communistsorcerer on r/traaaaaaannnnnnnnnns2

Spread this!!!!!!!

[dekubreaksbones]

Post-canon Shigaraki Tomura fic recs

Japan v. Shigaraki (2237) SCOJ No. 4401 by anubisisms

Shigaraki's trial, through social media, newspapers, and texting applications.

The More Things Change by LandofWordsandNonsense (Lieutenant_Nonsense)

Second in a series, and not focused on Shigaraki. Check out the first fic first.

Natshig [Natsuo X Shigaraki]

The Todoroki In-Laws by aphrodaisyacs

Natsuo and Shigaraki match on a dating app, 10 years after Jakku and 7 months after Shigaraki was let out of prison on parole.

Househusband Simulator by aphrodaisyacs

A regular day in the life of Shimura Tenko, Natsuo's househusband.

i'm not tryna be with you, now (but i could be your crush) by constellore

Natsuo flirts with barista Shigaraki to piss off his brother, but manages to get himself a real date.

[empiredesimparte]

Live broadcast of ‘Le Sacre de Napoléon V’ on the national channel Francesim 2, hosted by Stéphane Bernard

(Stéphane Bernard) The Emperor will become a quasi-sacred figure through the anointing: it is a sort of transfiguration. The imperial canopy conceals this profoundly sacred moment because the rite must remain a mystery to the common mortals. We are witnessing a revival of the triple blessing from the Reims ceremonial of the kings of Francesim. Their Majesties, kneeling before the altar, receive the triple anointing from the Pope: one on the forehead, the others on both hands. First the Emperor, then the Empress.

In his prayer, the Pope asks God to bestow the treasures and graces of His blessings upon the Emperor. He prays that the Emperor will govern with strength, justice, loyalty, foresight, courage, and perseverance. The Emperor must combat Evil and defend the holy Christian Church. The Empress, for her part, receives God's support, and that of Christ, to preserve the Empire and the French people for eternity.

(Stéphane Bernard) Such a ceremonial highlights the spiritual and mystical dimension of the imperial monarchy. It is a moment steeped in tradition, where every gesture, every word, carries deep symbolism, reminding us of the sacred bonds that unite the sovereign to his people and to God. (Mgr. Morlot) Almighty and eternal God, who have decreed that, following the example of David, Solomon, and Joash, the foreheads of Kings and Emperors should be adorned with a diadem, so that, through the brilliance of their gemstones and the splendor of their ornaments, they might serve as a vivid and striking image of the majesty that surrounds you to the peoples while they reign on earth…

(Mgr. Morlot) … Pour out, we beseech you, your blessing upon these crowns, so that your servant Napoleon and his spouse, who will wear them on earth, may shine with the radiance of all virtues.

(Pope) May God encircle your brow with the crown of glory and justice...

(Pope) ... May He arm you with strength and courage so that, blessed by Heaven through our hands, filled with faith and good works, you may reach the crown of the eternal kingdom…

(Pope) ... By the grace of Him whose reign and empire extend throughout all ages and ages. Amen.

(Napoléon V) Amen.

⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°11 | Francesim, Paris, 28 Thermidor An 230

While the bells ring out and the cannons roar, the Emperor and Empress of Francesim are crowned at Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris. It was broadcast live on television by Stéphane Bernard, the famous journalist for the crowned heads in Francesim.

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⚜ Traduction française

(Stéphane Bernard) L'Empereur va devenir un personnage quasi-sacré grâce à l'onction : c'est une sorte de transfiguration. Le dais impérial cache ce moment tout à fait sacré car le rite doit rester un mystère pour le commun des mortels. Nous assistons à une reprise de la triple bénédiction du cérémonial de Reims des rois de Francesim. Leurs Majestés, agenouillées devant l'autel, reçoivent du Pape la triple onction : une sur le front, les autres sur les deux mains. D'abord l'Empereur, puis l'Impératrice.

Dans son oraison, le Pape demande à Dieu de répandre les trésors et les grâces de Ses bénédictions sur l'Empereur. Il prie pour qu'il gouverne avec force, justice, fidélité, prévoyance, courage et persévérance. L'Empereur doit combattre le Mal et défendre la sainte Église chrétienne. L'Impératrice, quant à elle, reçoit le soutien de Dieu et du Christ, afin de conserver l'Empire et le peuple français dans l'éternité.

Un tel cérémonial met en lumière la dimension spirituelle et mystique de la monarchie impériale. C'est un moment empreint de tradition, où chaque geste, chaque parole, porte un symbolisme profond, rappelant les liens sacrés qui unissent le souverain à son peuple, et à Dieu.

(Monseigneur Morlot) Dieu tout-puissant et éternel, qui avez voulu qu'à l'exemple de David, de Salomon et de Joas, le front des Rois et des Empereurs fût ceint du diadème, afin que, par l'éclat des pierreries et la splendeur de leurs ornements, ils fussent aux des peuples, pendant qu'ils règnent sur la terre, la vive et frappante image de la majesté qui vous environnement...

(Monseigneur Morlot) ... Répandez, nous vous en conjurons, votre bénédiction sur ces couronnes, afin que votre serviteur Napoléon et son épouse, qui les porteront sur la terre brillent de l'éclat de toutes les vertus.

(Pape) Que Dieu ceigne votre front de la couronne de la gloire et de justice ; qu'il vous arme de force et de courage, afin que, bénis du Ciel par nos mains, pleins de foi et de bonnes oeuvres, vous arriviez à la couronne du règne éternel...

(Pape) Par la grâce de celui dont le règne et l'empire s'étendent dans tous les siècles et les siècles. Amen. (Napoléon V) Amen.

[deedala]

what are the Gallaghers/Milkoviches up to in the year of our Lord 2024?

hello macy!! 🥰💖

oh wow thank you for asking!!

✨🌱 gallagher/milkovich family updates under the cut🌱✨

ian and mickey are doing great, their business is running smoothly and they're very successful and happy. once their parole ended they started making time to take road trips out of the state to places theyve always wanted to see. they're currently on a road trip right now in fact!

debbie and franny are great. franny does really well in school and has started playing tee ball and really enjoys it! debbie's business is going well, she's currently single (by choice) but has really reconnected with some of her old welding school friends as well as becoming good friends with calista, whose influence and guidance has really helped ground her. she's matured a lot, but of course she's still good ole debbie, just less messy and a bit more confident in herself.

fiona did that reality dating show down in florida but it was not a great experience. she decided to move to louisville near kev and v. being with her best friends again while still being away from chicago has been really good for her. she has a steady job at a laundromat (that she doesnt own)

lip and tami are doing fine, fred is fine. tami was not pregnant! phew! lip struggled for a little bit but he and brad are back on their feet fixing bikes and its going well.

carl quit being a cop and took over the alibi full time with his former cop former partner guy. the alibi did not really turn into a cop bar after-all, but the cliente has changed a little as they made some changes to the vibe and did some good marketing and its become a pretty solid business.

liam is also great. he's well taken care of living with lip and tami and fred. he also bounces around to his other siblings' apartments pretty regularly just to hang out, sometimes babysits franny, plays video games with mickey, goes jogging with carl or ian (sometimes both!). he's actually on his way to two weeks of summer camp right now. he won a camp scholarship through school to go and he's extremely stoked!

mandy is living somewhere on the north side in an apartment with some friends. she's got a desk job now in the admin office of the chicago make up school. its a solid paying job and she enjoys the atmosphere. she's been thinking of maybe becoming an MUA herself but hasnt decided yet. she hangs out with ian and mickey regularly(sometimes together and sometimes just one of them!)

sandy and debbie have texted a few times but things are still weird for now. sandy doesnt stay in chicago, she likes to bounce around a lot and do her thing. when she is in town she always hangs out with mickey and mandy and she's doing a-ok.

[gatheringbones]

[“By the time Mabel arrived in 1924, Bedford was no longer the site of the tortures and abuses laid bare in a March 19, 1920, New York Tribune exposé: “Bedford Cruelty Charges Against Officials Upheld.” Not so long ago, women, Black and white alike, had been tied to their cots or handcuffed to their cell bars with their feet dangling inches above the ground. Even if Bedford had reformed, I doubt it was the good time Mabel tells Joan it was. We made whiskey. We made wine . . . We had parties there. Each night you slept with a different woman if you wanted to. Me, I was havin’ a ball. Superintendent Barker saw Bedford Hills not as a center of surveillance, the panopticon of prison we know today, but as a benevolent institution of moral reform, a safe haven away from the dangers and carnal pleasures of the city that might lead any young woman astray.

After serving seven months, Mabel was paroled with a foster family in Jersey City and worked as a domestic nearby. Bedford’s hold did not end here, though. The prison was a pipeline feeding domestic labor to well-off white ladies who lived outside the pull of New York City’s whirlwind hedonism. Mabel’s foster family reported her movements to Dr. Barker, and when she strayed into the City of Pleasure, she had to return to Bedford to continue serving her sentence. Then there was yet another domestic labor parole placement before Mabel’s discharge papers arrived in October 1926. “I do not want you to feel that our interest in you ends with the mailing of these papers,” Superintendent Barker wrote. “It is always my hope that should you at any time experience difficulties, there would be no hesitation on your part in getting in touch with the Institution.”

To Bedford Hills, Mabel was always “wild and wayward,” in need of reform. Their records are concerned only with the timeline—the dates of her incarceration and release—and the irrelevant facts they were asked to collect—a description of her nose, her IQ. An administrative accumulation we are told comprises a history.

To Joan, Mabel was an “icon,” always Ms. Hampton, an address of respect never afforded in her prison records or by the wealthy white families, much better off than Joan’s, that employed her. Joan tries to pin down the order of her hero’s journey—“And what year is this, about? We always try and do the year so people know.”—but that’s not what Mabel wants us to remember. She can hardly remember it herself. The oral history is the kind of record I crave not for its attention to dates or names or accuracy but for the dialogue. Joan asks the direct questions I wish I could have posed to Mary.

Joan’s interview style was shaped by a series of 1970s oral history workshops aimed at empowering people to record queer stories. She spent hours with friends drafting “questions that we thought would elicit the kind of history we wanted. What did you call yourself in the twenties? How did you and your friends dress in the forties? What bars did you go to?” These are not the questions of a doctor intent on diagnosis, or a sociologist intent on reform. If, for instance, W. E. B. Du Bois had drifted from 1890s Philadelphia to Mabel’s doorstep while undertaking his 2,500-household survey, he simply would have asked if she was married, single, or widowed. Joan asks instead how Mabel liked to have sex, and Mabel responds with a series of gestures, lost to us now. “They can’t see your hands,” Joan says. I imagine the middle and pointer fingers of both hands spread wide like legs, meeting at the vertices, the international symbol for scissoring. Or the same V held against her mouth, tongue poking through. But I’m getting lost in my own inventions. The Mabel I have come to know would never have been so lewd.

Joan brings to the tapes an awareness of her own bias, and a reminder of my own. She knows her presence in the room, the framing of her questions alone, shapes what comes out of Mabel’s mouth. Joan was raised by a single mother, Regina, who worked as a bookkeeper, who was let out on parole after embezzling money to provide for her daughter, and who remained poor and overworked until the day she died. “I know what it was to be marginal,” Joan says into the tape recorder, evidence that she shares some of Mabel’s working-class background. “From every eviction notice that was tacked on the door, every time the men came with flashlights to reclaim the beds or the furniture.” Still, Joan was first introduced to Mabel as the family housekeeper after Regina first met the “small black Christian woman” not at the Bronx Slave Market, street corners and intersections where Black women hoped to find a day’s work cleaning the homes of the wealthy, but at a luncheonette in Bayside, Queens. When Regina couldn’t afford the help anymore, the two women became friends and would go to the racetrack together. It was to Mabel that Regina turned when she suspected her own daughter might be a lesbian. “I’m gonna kill myself. My daughter is a lesbian,” she said. “Regina,” Mabel calmly replied. “What are you talking about? So am I. So am I.”

When Joan grew up, she developed a friendship with Mabel all her own. It was a friendship marked by question and answer, call and response, Joan’s attempts to understand the lesbians who came before and Mabel’s insistence that Joan gets her story right. “Mabel, I want to ask you a question.”

You already asked me seventy eleven! How many more you gonna ask me?“]

amelia possanza, from lesbian love story: a memoir in archives, 2023