#v. within the museum

[deus-ex-mona]

fresh out of hoots to give

[fairuzfan]

Hey queen. You seem v knowledgeable about pro-Palestinian charities. Would you mind making a post or giving some info on which ones are really effective and honest abt their work? I've been hearing some problematic things about UNRWA, and Save the Children seems to be doing very little (as far as I am informed). I donate to PCRF and MAP, but don't know any other, smaller orgs that may also need more awareness? Thanks ♥

hello, thanks for sending this in. so i've been trying to find smaller orgs for palestine that are specifically for helping gaza, but the issue is not much aid is being let in. PCRF is a really good org in my opinion, I'd always donate to them regardless.

There's also the Palestine Museum, which does really great cultural preservation work.

Palestine Legal is a legal aid group that helps palestinian and palestinian advocacy facing legal challenges.

Palestine Action is a direct action group that helps do disruptive protests.

Samidoun helps palestinian prisioners around the world and keeps and eye on them.

Within Our Lifetime is an NYC based palestinian led organization.

Palestinian Youth Movement is a favorite for Turtle Island led Palestinian resistance.

Palestine Feminist Collective is a Turtle Island feminist movement that works to spread culture and information.

Good Shephard Collective seems to be doing good work in Bethlehem as well.

I would mostly look for mutual aid groups for people from Gaza if you want to donate to them. Aya Ghanamah retweets mutual aid groups a lot.

I might share more groups in a second reblog after I hear back on best ways to help them.

[mysaintkitten]

hii first of all i just wanna say your writing is amazing & you are so very talented 🤍!!!! every time i see you’ve posted something i can’t wait to read it :]

anyway!! i was hoping i could request a jonathan crane x reader fic in which he gets jealous and protective over his gf <3 reader is really pretty (like one of those pinterest or ig baddies) and not the type of girl people typically picture a doctor dating lmaoaoao but he gets jealous n stuff bc people hit on her 😭 ugh i’m rambling now but ty ily 🤍

thank you so so much !! you are so kind !! i appreciate it very very much !! ilyt !!

Claimed | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

prompt: someone tries to flirt with you at an event, and jonathan doesn’t take it lightly (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: brief awkward interactions with pushy men, mentions of spiked drinks/possible death, implications of murders/killing, unprotected sex (p in v), jonathan and reader are both possessive, breeding/pregnancy kink, squirting, creampie

word count: 4.3k *not proofread*

“sweetheart, we’ve gotta go soon!” jonathan calls out to you from the front room. he stands in front of a large full body mirror making some final adjustments before he leaves. he takes a deep breath and slides a small syringe into his pocket. hopefully he won’t have to use it, but tonight could be hectic.

there’s a large event in gotham tonight and jonathan wants to make sure he looks his absolute best before showing up. though, he doesn’t think he’ll have to worry so much. with you on his arm, he doubts anyone will be paying much attention to his looks.

jonathan wasn’t an ugly man by any means, but you’ve lost track of how many times people told you that you’re out of his league. you didn’t see it. he’s handsome, smart, and sweet. well, sweet towards you, at least. and that’s what mattered.

“i’m coming, just hold on!” you shout back from the bedroom as you slip on your heels. you quickly walk towards the vanity before flattening our your dress and shifting it around so it hugs your body just right. once you’re happy, you head out and meet jonathan in the front room. as soon as he sees you, his anxiety begins to fade and a proud grin appears on his lips.

“darling ..” he coos as he begins to take a few steps to meet you in the middle. he runs his hands along your arms and kisses you softly, making sure he doesn’t ruin your makeup in any way.

“do i look nice?” you ask, jonathan chuckles breathily. “you look stunning, my love. now come on, we’ve gotta go.”

you sigh as he lightly grabs your wrist and starts to lead you outside, “nothing wrong with being fashionably late, jon.”

the drive to the event is rather quiet, you stare out the window, jonathan stays fixated on the road with his hand on your thigh. after a few minutes pass and you begin to arrive closer to the event jonathan decides to give you a brief rundown of what to expect.

“all right, these people will be obnoxious. and pretentious. and dull. but all you have to do is smile and nod and look pretty, okay?” jonathan asks sweetly. he’s not exactly asking you, he’s telling you. but you don’t mind, this is his event after all, you’re really just there to be eye candy. a subtle little ‘fuck you’ to the people who doubted him and his abilities to find love. jonathan was perpetually single for years until he met you, and the people around him made it their mission to never allow him to forget it. but you flipped a switch within him. his soft, gentle side began to spill out more and more. although he still definitely kept his cold and calculated side, he just tried to keep it away from you as best he could.

jonathan pulls up to the gotham museum where the event is being held. there’s a handful of people outside, standing and talking, but the real business is going down inside. you start to feel a bit nervous, you knew this event was going to be big, but this was more than you had anticipated.

you glance over to jonathan and flash him a smile, hoping to convey authentic happiness, but when you see him frown slightly in response you realize you weren’t very convincing.

“it’ll be all right, darling. i promise. you can cling to my arm the entire night, no one will bother you.” he whispers, petting the side of your face gently, “they know what i’m capable of.”

the implication of violence gave you chills. it was hot knowing how evil and dangerous he could be, while on the flip side be so affectionate and loving. he’d get down on all fours for you, kiss the ground you walk on. he had never felt that way about anyone, not in the slightest. in fact, he held partial animosity towards most people. some stronger than others. after years of being picked on and ridiculed, it’s not surprising he felt this way.

you nod at his words and form a genuine smile, making jonathan smile in return.

“let’s head inside.” he hums.

you exit the car with jonathan and begin to approach the museum, already noticing people look your way and whisper amongst themselves. you wrap your arm around jonathan’s, holding him close as you enter the event.

as you’re inside for merely a few moments, taking in the scenery and people around you, you hear someone shout from afar.

“crane!”

you and jonathan’s heads shoot over to the direction of the shout, where you’re met with a man you’ve never seen before. you feel a bit worried, but then you look over at jonathan who’s smiling. you begin to relax, if he’s not worried, you’re not worried.

the man is finally face to face with jonathan, where he grins widely and sticks out his hand. jonathan laughs and shakes the man’s hand, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

jonathan notices your confusion and breaks the handshake to speak to you, “darling, this is a friend of mine from university, his name is dr. fiske.”

you’ve heard of dr. fiske before. jonathan said he was his only friend throughout university. it’s nice to finally put a face to a name. you smile shyly at him and stick your hand out to shake his hand, “pleasure to meet you.”

he shakes your hand and nods, “same to you, miss.”

“is this your girl, crane?” dr. fiske asks, a smirk forming on his face as he drops your hand.

jonathan nods while grinning proudly, “she’s all mine.”

“look at jonny go!” he exclaims happily, smacking jonathan’s arm playfully. jonathan laughs and shrugs, “i know, i know. i got very lucky.”

you can’t help but smile at his words, he always made sure you knew how much he appreciated you and how lucky he got with you. but to hear him tell it to others really solidified his love for you, you’d never been put on such a pedestal by a partner before.

“well, i won’t hold you guys up. it was nice to see you crane, and it was nice to meet you ma’am.” dr. fiske adds before leaving to head to another area of the event.

the night goes well. jonathan talks to people, and you do as he asked. smiled, nodded, looked pretty. and he was right, these people were like parasites. energy leeches. it was becoming more and more difficult to feign this contentment when your annoyance was beginning to boil inside of you. you can only hear so many rich pricks ramble about how great they are in one night.

luckily, the conversations begin to fizzle out.

“would you like to get a drink?” jonathan questions, already knowing what your response will be.

“yes, please.” you sigh with relief. it would be much easier to pretend to be interested if you were drunk, but having to do all this sober was really putting your acting skills to the test.

jonathan chuckles and leads you to the bar, “stay here for a moment, darling. i need to use the restroom. don’t move, i’ll be right back. order yourself whatever you’d like.”

he gives you a quick peck on the cheek before heading off to the bathroom. you really didn’t want to be alone surrounded by people you didn’t know. but you’re grown, and you remember what jonathan said. they know what i’m capable of.

“gin and tonic, please.” you order politely, the bartender mumbles and begins to make your drink.

as you stand there, clicking your nails against the counter while you wait, you’re disrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“here all by yourself, hun?”

you quickly swing around with a confused expression on your face, and you’re met with an extremely tall stranger that reeks of alcohol. you have no idea who this man is, or why he’s decided to talk to you out of all people. of course this would happen the moment jonathan leaves your side.

“uh .. no, actually. i’m here with my boyfriend.” you respond flatly as you hear the sound of the bartender placing your drink down behind you, you thank them and grab your drink, bringing it up to your lips and taking a small sip.

“well .. he doesn’t seem to be around, love.” the man noticed while slurring, “doesn’t he know better than to leave a pretty thing like you unattended?”

“he’ll be back soon. and trust me, he will not be happy to see you talking to me.” you warn, feeling irritated at this man’s inability to take no for an answer.

he clicks his tongue and tilts his head, “aw. can’t even have a conversation with you? that’s too bad .. i’ll give him something to get angry over ..” he laughs as his hand begins to meet your hip, you push his chest back firmly, spilling a bit of your drink in the process.

“don’t touch me!” you snap, hoping to god that jonathan hurries up and saves you.

“sweetheart ..” the man chuckles lowly, putting his hands up defensively, “relax, now. what your little boyfriend can’t see won’t hurt him, right?” he whispers as he reaches to touch your hips again.

you go to push him again, “i said don’t touch me!”

in the midsts of your rage, your eyes meet with jonathan. he may be far away, but you can tell he’s fuming. he nudges people out of the way and quickly strides over to you, his expression becoming angrier by the moment. suddenly, he’s behind the man’s back with a drink in his hand. his gaze burning into the back of his head.

“is there a problem here?” jonathan growled, the man turns around and scoffs. jonathan’s visibly shorter than the man, but that doesn’t faze jonathan in the slightest. the man scoffs at him, “not at all, man. just chatting with this lovely lady.”

jonathan’s gaze switches to you, and you shake your head slightly, trying to convey to jonathan that you didn’t want to talk to this man at all. he knew what you were trying to say, and he knew this wasn’t your fault.

“interesting,” jonathan responds unamused, “well hopefully you’ve said all you needed to say. come on, darling. let’s go.”

he reaches his hand out for you and you quickly latch onto him, avoiding making eye contact with the unfamiliar man.

he laughs, “wait wait, this is your boyfriend? jesus.”

jonathan wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid causing a scene, but these little digs were making it harder for him to think rationally.

“yup. she’s all mine.” jonathan sighs, “feel free to look. but you cannot touch.”

the man laughs, not realizing how scarily serious jonathan is being. the energy is making you extremely uncomfortable. he swallows and forces a smile, “here, man. no hard feelings.”

jonathan hands his drink over to the man, to which he accepts it and nods. “yeah man, no hard feelings.” he mumbles while taking a sip. you’re confused. jonathan has never behaved like this. normally, he’d resort to getting violent, yet he gave this man a drink like it was some sort of reward.

you clench harder on jonathan’s arm and the two of you turn to leave, you hear the man make one final comment from behind you;

“keep me in mind, sweetheart. i know you’ll be thinking about me.”

you shudder from discomfort, speeding up your pace as you head towards the door.

once in the car, you sit awkwardly in the passenger seat, unable to relax.

jonathan gets into the drivers seat and slams the door, “goddamn prick ..” he groans, aggressively putting on his seatbelt.

“baby, i’m sorry, he came up to me and he wouldn’t take no for an answer ..” your voice trails off as you can’t figure out what else to say

“no, no, darling, it’s not you ..” he assures, “it’s that stupid fucking bastard in there. who does he think he is? what makes him think he’s worthy of your attention?” though jonathan knows you wouldn’t betray him like that, he’s irritated at the man’s attempt.

you rub jonathan’s arm, “he’s arrogant. and he’s probably never been told no in his life .. he couldn’t win me over if he was the last man on earth.”

jonathan huffs and begins to drive off, you remember how jonathan gave him his drink.

“baby?” you whisper, interlocking your fingers with his,

“hm?” he responds, not taking his eyes off the road,

“why’d you give him your drink?”

he grins while remembering, “well, i couldn’t drink it anyway. i had to drive us home.”

that makes sense now that you think about it, maybe he was offered a drink and accepted it to be nice.

“and i slipped something into the drink.”

your expression drops, “what?”

jonathan just shrugs and continues to grin, “he needs to learn a lesson. i guess he just didn’t know what i’m capable of, but now he’ll know.”

what you didnt know at the time was as jonathan began to approach you, he slipped the syringe out of his pocket (which you didn’t even know about to begin with) and squirted the concoction into the drink hastily. your heart starts to race a bit, a mixture of fear and admiration. he really would do whatever to protect you. you don’t know how severely he’s hurt this man, whether the drink will simply knock him out or flat out kill him. you didn’t know, and that gave you a rush. he was already tipsy anyway, whatever happens to him won’t get pinned on jonathan.

“i’d do whatever for you, darling. anything.” he hums, clenching your hand harder, “i know, i know ..” you agree, “i’d do anything for you, too. i’m yours.”

he groans and loosened his grip on your hand, shifting your hand down lower between his legs, “all mine, pretty girl. all mine.”

you gasp softly as he guides your hand to his growing bulge, “you get so many men all worked up, baby .. yet i’m the one that gets to touch you, and hear all those pretty noises you make as you come undone.”

you run your hand along his clothed cock without his guidance and you feel yourself becoming aroused as your thighs tense together, the intensity of the situation was making your heart pound and your mind foggy.

before you know it, he’s pulled up outside of the house.

“get inside, go into the bedroom. i expect to see you ready by the time i get there.” he purrs, you hum while taking your hand off of his bulge, quickly heading inside and shutting the door behind you before kicking off your shoes. before you’re even near the bedroom you begin to unzip your dress, giggling quietly as you hear jonathan enter through the front door, locking it behind him while sliding off his shoes.

as you stand in the bedroom, you fully slide the dress off, tossing it on top of the hamper before quickly unclasping your bra and sliding off your panties. you scramble, slightly breathlessly, onto the bed, and lay back as you wait patiently for him.

a few moments later, jonathan enters, sighing at what he sees.

“oh, my girl ..” he purrs, walking over to the bed before crawling onto it, planting kisses on your ankles as he works his way up your legs, “so well behaved .. all for me ..” he praises as his kisses make their way to your thighs, where you slowly spread your legs apart for him. he groans at your pussy, continuing his desperate kisses along your inner thigh.

“look at that pussy ..” he hums lowly while using his index and middle finger to spread your lips apart, “god. i’ve killed men over this cunt, you know that, darling?”

you whimper at his tone as you shake your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth while staring down at him.

“well ..” he coos while sliding a finger inside of you, “i have. i’ve kept track of the men that have harassed you, hurt you, annoyed you, hell, even the men that looked at you the wrong way. notice how you’ve never seen them again?”

the more you think about it, the more you realize you never had to deal with these men more than once. the incident would occur, you’d tell jonathan, and he’d take care of it. it’s sickeningly attractive to know how far jonathan will go for you, knowing how absolutely pussy whipped you’ve made him.

you gasp as he slowly fucks you with his middle finger, your mind finding it hard to focus on one specific thing.

“for .. for me?” you whimper, feeling yourself becoming slicker

“all for you, my love.” he sighed against your thigh as he continues to place small kisses along your inner thighs, his lips inching closer to your swollen clit, “all for you.” he whispers one last time before suckling gently on your clit while continuing to finger you, sneaking a second finger in while you writhe beneath him.

“o-oh ..” you moan, “jonathan, please ..”

your pussy clenches around his fingers and he hums against your clit, slipping a third finger in as you whimper loudly,

“j-jonathan, please!” you mewl, snaking your fingers down into jonathan’s head and tightly locking your fingers into his hair, he briefly pulls off and continues to finger you while groaning “let me taste your pretty pussy for a bit longer, darling ..”

your cheeks burn at his praise, your thighs beginning to twitch around his head as you become wetter, the sounds of his slick tongue and drenched fingers become even louder. lewd squelches and soft whimpers are all that can be heard, along with jonathan’s occasional hums against your clit.

he can feel you become close, he’s able to recognize your involuntary jolts and twitches all too well. he pulls his fingers out and takes his lips off you, huffing quietly as he brings his slick fingers up to his mouth and sucking the arousal off.

the dirty act makes your chest flutter, he’s so desperate to taste each and every drop of you, trying his absolute hardest to make sure none of it goes to waste. once his fingers are cleaned, he brings his hands down to his zipper and button, where he urgently unbuttons and unzips his pants.

“who do you belong to, baby?”

“‘m yours, jon ..” you moan, batting your lashes at him. he groans as his jaw hangs slightly slack while he tugs his pants down, his cock nearly bursting out of his boxers. he palms himself while staring down at you, “‘n who do i belong to?” he smirks,

it rarely crossed your mind that the possessiveness went both ways, you were normally so enamoured by jonathan and his admiration for you that you rarely considered anyone else as a threat. but occasionally, jonathan would get hit on in front of you, and it would make you immensely angry and insecure. he’d barely even look in the same direction as other women, yet they’d still somehow think that was a sign to approach him. he’d shoot them down harshly. even the women that you felt could easily take your place, jonathan’s loyalty towards you never faltered. he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have to go to the same limits that he would to keep outsiders eyes off of you.

you shake those thoughts aside to respond to him while biting your lip, “you’re mine ..”

he hums in approval while sliding down his boxers, both the boxers and his pants now sitting at his mid thigh, “that’s right, darling.”

he inches his hips forward and runs his cock head along your folds, spreading the slick around before teasing your clit with his tip. pressing against the bud and gently moving his cock side to side, watching as you wriggled at the teasing.

he chuckles and dips his cock back to your opening, slowly sliding just his tip in before pulling it back out, fucking you agonizingly slow with the head.

“d’you know how many men are gonna be jerking off to the thought of you? ‘n how many of them wish they could just get a glimpse of your pussy .. let alone sit here and tease it ..” he breathed, beginning to slowly side more of his cock inside you. your breath hitches at the developing fullness, “more .. please ..”

“aw, poor baby,” he coos almost condescendingly, “you want me to fuck you properly?”

you nod mindlessly and huff, purposefully clenching around him in hopes of getting him to put his full length inside. it partially works, you think, as he groans and slides more inside, still not bottoming out yet.

“use your words, darling.” jonathan commands, halting his movements again and leaving just his tip inside once more.

“please, jonathan .. please fuck me properly ..” you whimper embarrassingly, as those words leave your mouth he laughs breathily before sliding his full length in, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he thrusts back out and pounds into you again. he forms a quick, rough pace that makes you nearly cry with pleasure.

“o-oh, mmh, fuck!” you whine loudly, your back arching as jonathan’s cock forcefully hits your most sensitive areas.

“this cunts all mine, you hear me?” he groans while gripping your thigh with one hand and grabbing your face with the other, “if i wanna fuck it, slap it, breed it, abuse it, whatever i want. it’s mine. right, baby?”

you nod quickly with furrowed brows, pathetic little mewls falling from your lips as you stare at him through your lashes. you loved this duality about jonathan. sometimes you’d purposefully rile him up just to get him to fuck you angrily and almost animalistic. sometimes, he’ll make love to you and praise you the entire time like you’re a goddess that’s a blessing on this earth, other times he’d fuck you like you’re a filthy whore that’s sole purpose is to be stuffed full of cock. you needed both in moderation. right now, you were long overdue for one of his dirty rough fucks, so it’s kind of nice the way things panned out tonight.

“wanna breed this pussy so goddamn bad .. you like how that sounds, sweetheart? you want me to fuck a baby into you?” he purrs, his grip on your face and hip still tight, you nod and moan loudly, “y-yes, jonathan!”

he chuckles before quickly switching to a low groan as he feels you become slicker around him, “god .. you’re gonna look so fucking good all nice ‘n full .. i’ll make you my wife .. you want that, hm?”

“yes, yes!” you ramble as your mind goes blank, it feels nearly primal. like deep down, you’re just two ravenous, hungry creatures who need each others bodies and want to reproduce. that’s all humans are really meant to do, isn’t it?

“good girl .. such a good girl .. i’ll take such good care of you and our baby, darling ..” he hums, “open your mouth for me ..”

you lazily open your mouth and stick out your tongue, small whimpers being punched out of you as you do so. after grinning at how malleable you are in his hands, he spits in your mouth. he doesn’t even need to tell you to swallow, you do it anyway.

“that’s it, god you’re fucking perfect ..” he praised, it made you feel so dirty, your mind running on overdrive at the intense amounts of pleasure. you hadn’t even realized how close you were until you felt yourself beginning to slowly tip over the edge. this didn’t feel like your normal orgasms though, you felt something different within you.

suddenly, through jonathan’s harsh thrusts, your orgasm spills out of you while you whimper loudly. the clear liquid poured out of you and dampened the blanket beneath you along with jonathan’s pants. you twitch at the after shocks of your orgasm and jonathan’s pace never slows, “look at that .. drenched my fuckin’ pants baby ..”

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry i couldn’t control it ..” you apologize as your cheeks flush from the embarrassment, you had never squirted before, and now you feel partially guilty for ruining his pants. not too guilty, though, because your other senses are still being dulled by the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

“no, don’t apologize, sweet girl .. ‘s cute .. made you feel so good, you made such a mess ..” he soothes, loosening his grip on you face and sliding his hand down to grip the other side of your hip with his now free hand.

his thrusts begin to get shaky and his breaths get heavier, “gonna come- fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come ..” he huffs through gritted teeth, his eyes shutting tightly as his grips get harsher. after a few more pumps, he’s coming inside you. groaning lowly as he holds your hips tightly against his, making sure he shoots his load as deeply inside of you as he can.

he thrusts a few more times to really get his come in there before slowly pulling out his softening cock. he leans back on his knees, you scan him up and down from between your legs. his cheeks are pink, his hair is messy, his forehead is sweaty, his glasses have slid down the middle of his nose bridge, his chest rises and falls laboredly, and his almost fully soft cock sits between his legs, his pants still around his thighs with a large visible damp mark from when you had orgasmed.

once he’s caught his breath, jonathan speaks;

“maybe other men should flirt with you more often.” he chuckles.

—

i have to be honest, i don’t think this is good at all, but i hope you guys at least like it! i’m sorry it’s taken me a while! i’ll be back on track soon! :)

[katiexpunk]

Are you ever going to do a pt 2 to dream of me? It was soo good! I want to see the morning after and what joel would do while reader/character is asleep or something.

Dream of Me - Part II | Pairing Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Thanks for the ask, Non. <3 I'm so glad you liked it! I've had a part II in my wips for a while, and your ask inspired me to finish it up. It was one of my first fics and I feel like my writing style has evolved a lot since then. So surprise! I also added about 1K extra words to Part I. :) Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W/C: ~2K Warnings: Dream vibes. Unprotected P in V. Orgasm denial. Pet names. Masturbation. Use of cum as lube. Rough sex/hair pulling. Use of slut one time. Oral (f receiving). Sleeping bag sex. There is an age gap, but it's not specified (make it your own). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. For immersability, the reader has no major physical descriptions/graphic is for vibe purposes only. Masterlist | Notifications | Read on AO3 | Part 1

The world is bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the kind that seems to blur the edges of reality into a gentle haze. You’re standing in the middle of an open field, the grass beneath your feet feels lush and slightly damp, as if it had recently been kissed by a passing cloud. Above you, the sky is a canvas of swirling colors, painting a sunset that seems almost otherworldly. You feel like you’ve stepped into a painting, the kind that used to hang on walls in museums, ones that used to be meticulously cared for.

In the distance, you see a mountain, its peak shrouded in mist and its slopes adorned with trees that shimmer in hues of gold and emerald. You think that it might be nice to sit in the grass and just watch the clouds roll over the rock giant. Before your legs can fall to the ground, your ears tune to the telltale sounds of water on water, a roaring waterfall unmistakable in the distance. 

You begin to walk, your steps guided by an unseen force, drawn towards the mountain as if it were calling to you, whispering your name in only a language you understand. The air is filled with the sweet scent of flowers in bloom, a fragrance so potent and yet so delicate, like a memory from a time long forgotten. You’re reminded of the perfume your mother used to wear, the lush roses that once lived in your garden, and the earthy smell of fresh-cut grass. 

As you approach the base of the mountain, you notice a path that winds its way up the slope, paved with stones that faintly glow, as if they were lit from within. With each step, the stones beneath your fit light up, guiding you onward, their light casting dancing shadows on the path in front of you. You feel warm and fuzzy, safe and curious, like nothing here could hurt you. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure standing off the side of the path. A man, broad and imposing, yet with a demeanor that radiates warmth, beckons you closer. 

As you get closer, you realize it’s Joel. He looks different, softer somehow. He doesn’t say anything, just holds your gaze. 

“Is this a dream?” You ask, your voice off in the distance, almost as if it was coming from someone else. 

His dark eyes lock on yours, and he takes a step closer. He cages you back until your backside lands against the expanse of a thick tree. He stands, palm flat against the bark above your head, and leans in. Fuck, he smells good — like cedar and cinnamon. 

You look up at him, and he leans in even closer, his face close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. His hungry eyes fall to your lips, and he leans in even further, lips hovering just over yours. 

“Why don’t we find out?” He says, voice low, a syrupy drip of arousal behind his words. 

You jolt awake, but this time there are no soft moans that thread through stillness, instead, you’re met with the wanton sound of skin-on-skin, and deep heavy grunts. 

“You’re a dirty fucking girl, you know that, sweetheart?” Joel groans, once again on top of you, fully awake this time. One hand on your hips, the other braced at your side, he guides your wet cunt down onto him with intensity. He gyrates his hips, the tip of him kissing your cervix, and you let out a breathy moan. 

“Joel, fuck —” 

“Fucking me in my sleep, taking advantage of me,” he groans through grit teeth as he relentlessly fucks into you, taking you hard and rough, “Cock hungry little slut, just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He says, hand leaving your hip for a brief moment to unzip the rest of the sleeping bag down. 

Both of his hands find your hips and he tugs you back and up so you’re on all fours, ass clapping against his lower tummy. “Toldya you were asking for trouble, sweetheart,” he says, trailing his hand up your lower back, causing you to arch for him. His hand grabs the back of your neck with a commanding grip, and he uses the leverage to pull you back onto his cock even harder. 

“Shit Joel, ah” you whimper, a little sore from last night, “it’s so much,” you mewl. 

“You had your fun, baby, now it’s my turn,” he says with a low groan and moves to gather a handful of your hair in his first. He tugs it and your back curves even further, the new angle perfect against the soft spongy spot that makes you see stars. 

“Joel, oh my god, please —” you cry out, a little plea of pleasure, a little plea of pain. He’s fucking you with such intensity, using you just like you hoped he would last night. Last night was incredible, but nothing could compare to this. You’re not sure you’ve ever been fucked this good, ever. 

“You close, baby?” 

“Yes, oh god, please — wanna come so bad, please Joel,” you moan, and he lets out a deep groan of approval from his chest. He tugs on the hair intertwined between his fingers and pulls you up so your back is against his chest, his cock still deep inside of you. 

His forearm comes to wrap around your waist and his lips find your neck, his teeth gliding against the razor edge of your jaw. He sucks soft kisses into your damp skin and continues dragging his thick cock in and out of you just so. 

Your eyes flutter closed and Joel can tell you’re close from the way your pussy walls clench around him. 

“Look so good like this baby, stuffed full of my cock,” he whispers into your ear, sucking the lobe of it between his lips. “‘Ts a damn shame I won’t get to hear how sweet you sound when you come,” he says, voice low, as he thrusts up hard into your cunt and then quickly pulls out. 

Your eyes snap open and your jaw drops. He releases you and you turn around to face him. He can’t be serious right now. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Bad girls don’t get to come,” he says, a harshness to it, but you see a smirk of satisfaction wash over his face. His large hand comes out to grip his thick cock, and he uses your slick as he works himself. 

“Joel, please —” you all but beg, your eyes soft, chest heaving. His jaw tightens, the veins in his neck bulging as he fucks his fist and takes in the sight of you. You hold his gaze, and another soft please escapes your lips. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “lay on your back, spread your legs,” he commands, much like he does when he tells you to get behind him, his rifle aimed at any potential threats. It might have scared you pre-outbreak, how submissive you’ve become for a man, but that was then and this is now — you follow his orders to stay alive because he knows what’s in your best interest. This can’t be any different, right? 

You do as he says, your hand instinctively finding your way to your wet core, circling on your clit, seeking out the friction you so desperately need. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?” 

“No,” your eyes drop to his weeping cock, and your hand falls to your side. 

“You touch yourself when I say you can,” he says, voice heavy and a little breathless. His resolve is slipping. He hasn’t let up the pace on his cock this entire time, and you can tell he’s close. You spread your legs even wider, granting him an unobstructed view of your dripping cunt. 

“You gonna come for me, Joel?” You softly moan, a seductive tone to your voice. “Gonna paint my pussy with your cum?” You press your knees down further on top of the sleeping bag. 

Joel’s fist tightens on his cock, and he works it methodically, eyes locked on your wet hole. 

“God, she’s so pretty, I can tell she wants to be full of me, huh, baby? Little cunts just begging to be stuffed,” he groans and thrusts his hips into his fist once more before he lets out an almost painful-sounding moan. Hot cum falls over his fingertips, pools on the top of your mound, dripping honey thick over your clit, down your lips, and into your aching hole. His chest heaves and his fist holds tight on his cock as he lets the aftershocks of his orgasm wash over him. 

On his knees in front of you, between your legs, he rises and adjusts his shoulders. He releases his spent cock and falls back onto his legs, shins pinned to the ground below. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Want to watch you fuck it into you,” he says, bringing both of his hands to your inner thighs, holding you open for him. 

Like you did last night, you fingers return to your clit and you pull tight circles there, using his cum as lube. He should be looking at your pussy, but instead, his eyes are locked on yours. He’s so fucking intense, a brooding mass of a man, even now, a slight blush to his cheeks from his orgasm, chest twinged with sweat. You want to know what he tastes like, the salt of his skin on your tongue, the tang of his cum. 

You use your middle finger to gather a little bit of his release on your finger and fuck it into yourself a few times, before drawing your finger out and up to your mouth, slipping the slick digit between your lips. You suck it clean and you swear you see his cock twitch as you do. 

“Jesus,” he groans, and his cock starts to harden once more. 

Your fingers return to your clit. You’re so close, it’s not long before —

“Fuckfuckfuck, yes,” you cry out, eyes closed, your release taking over you like watercolor paint spilling onto paper, blurring the lines your pleasure has always been confined to — until now. You think once again that this might be a dream, but this time you’re no longer in a painting that hangs on a wall in a museum, you are the painting.  

“Shit, that was pretty,” he moans, and you open your eyes to find his cock is now fully hard once again. 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart,” he says, coming to hover over you. His cock smears the remnants of his cum on your belly as he leans in closer, and hovers his mouth over yours. He holds steady there, eyes still fixed on yours before he drops them to your lips and leans in to plant a soft kiss on them. 

It’s tender, softer than you would expect from a man like him. 

He pulls himself up slightly and brings one hand to cup your cheek. 

“You’re gonna do that again,” he says, voice soft, and your eyes widen. 

“Told you you were asking for trouble, sweetheart,” he groans against your chest. “But don’t worry, I’m gonna help you out this time,” he says, trailing kisses down the valley of your breast, using his tongue to lap up the cum that’s gathered on your skin before his head comes to rest in between your thighs. 

And in that moment, your reality outshines the confines of even the sweetest of dreams. 

END

[boylerpf]

The Dresden Green Diamond...

On 25th November 2019, one of the most shocking museum heists in history took place. Thieves in Germany had set fire to a circuit-breaker to cause a local power cut around the Dresden Green Vault, and within minutes had smashed and grabbed hundreds of millions of dollars worth of priceless and historic jewels dating back to the rule of Augustus the Strong.

The unique Dresden Green diamond, the Jewel in the Crown of the Green Vaults collection had just been shipped off to the Met Museum in NYC for exhibition, escaping the catastrophe of the attack. Dating back to 1722, and it its original mount from 1768, the Dresden Green is not only a superbly historically important piece, but it is also, quite simply, a miracle of nature. At 41 carats, it is the largest natural green diamond known, and certainly so, as irradiation treatments – used to induce green in diamonds – had not yet been invented.

Source - Helen Molesworth, Senior Jewellery Curator @ V&A on IG

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

I keep picturing this:

(Not yet bf!)John going short of ballistic with genuine worry when you refuse to hold hands.

CoD ML

Okay, obviously this needs context.

So, John tags along with you to the V&A. Now, being a proper gentleman, he first takes you out for coffee and a bite before you slowly make your way to the museum in South Kensington. After all, it’s one of those rare sunny and warm London spring days and you could do with some Vitamin D.

No, not Vitamin Daddy. What was that?

ANYWAY! As soon as you enter, you fall into the habit of wandering about without any regard whatsoever for your companion. It’s not a conscious decision, of course, but sometimes you need to turn your brain off and enjoy art while protected by your personal bubble.

When you’re in the Cast Courts, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It takes every ounce of self-control not to let the scream tickling the back of your throat escape, which would definitely break the amiable peacefulness of the museum.

“There you are! Do you have any bloody idea how worried I was?” John’s lightly panting, eyes wide and pupils dilated with a frenzy that leaves you wondering about the cause of it. “I let you out of my sight for one second and you have me run around the entire museum looking for you.”

“Well, you kinda invited yourself,” you mumble under your breath, masking the way you flinch with a step back.

“Pardon?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Nah, Y/N.” His fingers dig painfully into your cheeks as he grabs your face and forces you to look at him. “You’re a big girl so use your words. Go on. You know how.”

“Y- You wanted to come with. Invited yourself.”

“I guess that’ll have to do for a proper sentence.” He lets go and extends a bear-like hand. “Before you wander off again with that silly little head of yours.”

“No.”

“Hand. Now.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” John growls, forcefully entwining his fingers with yours. The grip on them is firm, iron-like. Fully aware you won’t be able to escape.

You slowly walk about the space like that for a few moments. Eventually, you find the courage to defy the seething rage you feel emanating from him.

“I… I’m sorry, John.” You’re not afraid of his mood, but it’s rather the guilt that sinks its claws into you which evokes tears in your eyes.

He stops in his tracks, lets go of your hand, and turns around so fast it’s like he’s trying to evade a bullet. Within seconds, he has you wrapped up in his arms, his fingers running through your hair in an effort to console you. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m not mad with you, just a little annoyed you don’t account for me and worried about what might happen when you’re alone. I know you’re a capable girl, Y/N, but I still care about your well-being too.”

The back rubs help soothe the storm of tears welling up inside you, waiting to come thundering out. Nevertheless, the kiss on the top of your head calms it. “How about we grab a coffee, hm? Maybe get something to eat too. My treat.”

He holds you at arm’s length, checking your expression while lovingly wiping the tears rolling down your cheeks away. “Does that sound good?”

You nod. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling silly for acting like a child at your grown age. “I’m sorry you had to see that. And for me not telling you where I was.”

“Shh, ‘s alright, love.” While normally he wouldn’t allow himself to do it since you’re not official yet and he doesn’t know whether you reciprocate his feelings or not, he kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose. “Let’s go to the café. Don’t let go of my hand.”

And you don’t.

(Might make this imagine into a proper scene for my dad’s best friend!John Price story. It’s in the works, btw! I’m currently gathering inspiration and writing bits like the above here and there, organically creating the tale, so to say.😉)

[notyourmajesty]

Henry's Dog David, and How RWRB (the Book and the Movie) Explore the Meaning of His Name.

(GIF by @andysapril)

CW: Mentions of deaths, murder attempts, mostly from Bible verses.

An Easter Egg from the book that the film managed to incorporate in an entirely different context.

Henry naming his dog David is one of the things Alex comments on both in the film and the book. He finds the name particularly odd for a pet, and when Henry tells him later that the inspiration was David Bowie, Alex remarks that he could have just used the surname instead.

This is basically just me overthinking the way the book and the film added "David and Jonathan" to two totally different scenes haha.

David Bowie

There has been a lot of debate over Bowie's sexuality since the 70s, and possibly conflicting statements from Bowie himself over the decades, but he did leave quite an impact on queer people in his time (ref: this article). Henry both in the book and in the film has often turned to literature and art for inspiration, and solace, when it came to exploring his own identity as a gay man. All kinds of historical queer identities - both debated and confirmed - show up in the tapestry of people and ideas that have influenced Henry's own thoughts and ideas (Alex's too). So it definitely makes sense that he would name his beloved pet dog after one of those inspirations.

(notably, during Henry's dramatic entrance when Alex comes down to the UK for damage control, the song playing is Bowie's "Up the Hill Backwards". You also see him choose a Queen song for karaoke, which makes me want to really headcanon him as a 70s prog rock fan 😄)

David and Jonathan

In the book, Alex goes over the details of Henry's fact sheet with Nora and his sister June. When he mentions the name of Henry's dog, he claims his dislike for the name is because it sounds more like a "tax attorney" than a beloved pet (Ch 2).

In the film, it's his SS detail Amy who quizzes him. She responds to his quip about Henry's choice of name for a pet by telling him what she's named her own dog. It's a tiny, fun detail with no lasting importance in the film, but I feel it does work within the larger framework of how the film incorporates queer readings and figures too.

I see this as a reference to a popular reading of the Hebrew/Biblical story of David and Jonathan from the 2 books of Samuel. David was a shepherd anointed by the prophet Samuel (through orders from God), to succeed King Saul, and Jonathan was Saul's son who was extremely devoted to David and even saved him from his father's wrath. They were known to have made a covenant to each other soon after they met, and the first Book of Samuel gives us a picture of an immensely close bond between the two:

After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself. From that day Saul kept David with him and did not let him return home to his family. And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt. (1 Samuel 18, 1-4)

Interpretations of their relationship have ranged from close friendship to a romantic relationship, and there have been many, many queer readings on this pair.

In Casey McQuiston's RWRB too, Alex references both a saying from the Book of Proverbs (24:13), and the story of David and Jonathan in the same paragraph. This is in Ch 10, when Henry takes Alex to the V&A museum. This particular sequence is in the inner chamber of the museum, shortly after the couple dance to Elton John's "Your Song".

He compares himself and Henry to "a lost David and Jonathan", and it's pretty obvious why when you think of their devotion, and the tragic end of the relationship of the latter. Like Jonathan, Henry is a prince utterly devoted to one man, and sure that his family too will be against their bond. Like David, Alex is an outsider who the royal family may view as a threat to their stability, and therefore must be kept away. David's love for Jonathan is immense: he makes the covenant with Saul's son soon after they meet, and when he mourns Jonathan's death, he says "Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women." (2 Samuel 1:26).

This amazing post from @elipheleh explores this metaphor more in detail (as well as St. Chiara, and a quote from Oscar Wilde, who is referenced both in the book and the film as a writer Henry is fond of). It also speaks about the verse from the Book of Proverbs that Alex remembers, partly in Spanish, partly in English - Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. (Proverbs 24:13-14)

(Jonathan in 1 Samuel also has his own reference to honey - there is a story that chronicles a tense moment between Jonathan and his father, King Saul, due to Jonathan eating wild honey on a day when the troops were bound by an oath to fast (he had not heard the oath himself). He almost faces death by Saul's hand for breaking the oath the latter had made, but is saved by the other people in the troops. (1 Samuel 14: 24-46). I've seen different ways of this passage being interpreted - as either Jonathan being judged for disobeying an oath even though he was not around when it was announced, or Saul being viewed as foolish for making such an oath in the first place. The main point is, Saul is ready to kill his son for breaching a certain protocol, and it is the people who save Jonathan.

Similarly IMO, Henry is prepared to live his whole life in the closet viewing his sexuality as something that would bring shame to his family, but eventually recognizes that he has support. Both within his family (in the form of his mother Catherine and his sister Bea), and in the public eye)

At this point in their lives, Alex and Henry see very little hope that things will get better soon enough for them to unite. It is more than likely that - in their minds - this one romantic visit will be their last for a long, long time. Of course David and Jonathan - who parted ways in the hope of being reunited after the battle with Jonathan's father, and whose friendship/love met a tragic end - would be considered a fitting parallel for the situation Alex and Henry find themselves in.

The book has the space and scope to explore many, many images and symbols that could fit Alex and Henry. Whether it's in the letters they send each other, the references Alex learns more about as he figures out his sexuality. The book can - at the V&A museum - describe the statues the two men linger at in loving detail, making us more aware how poignant their temporary separation will be and how bittersweet this last dance is.

The movie's focus is different - the V&A scene is a (presumably) final, deeply intimate moment that lets Alex see for real the weight of his role in Henry's environment, and how little he expects to see his dreams come true. It also lets Henry see how determined Alex is to make his every dream a reality.

Most moments of highlighting queer literature or history are pocketed away in smaller sequences in the film, as small references and Easter eggs (eg. the books they recommend each other), as the film focuses more on the relationship and it's effects both on the men and the world around them. The V&A is more a visual backdrop for that bittersweet last moment where the two can find equal ground and truly understand each other. I think mentioning the names of the statues would take away from that.

The movie didn't need to include David and Jonathan. Why is why I'm truly, truly grateful that they still did. Even as a tiny, cute Easter egg that is supposed to be banter about weirdly specific pet-naming protocol 💖

[uwmspeccoll]

Shakespeare Weekend

"Torment of the boot" from Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Examples of face mufflers from Merry Wives of Windsor.

Types of carcans referenced in Measure for Measure.

Depiction of a bride bed.

Illustrations of "making the fig" from King Henry V.

The Illustrations of Shakespeare, and of ancient manners: with dissertations on the clowns and fools of Shakespeare by British antiquary and museum curator Francis Douce (1757-1834) was published in 1807 in two volumes by Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme in London. Quoting Shakespeare scholar George Steevens “if Shakespeare is worth reading, he is worth explaining,” Douce set out to collocate and clarify not only previous editorial notes on Shakespeare, but also words and customs he declared had been previously “partially and imperfectly” illustrated. His intention to write the perfect Shakespeare reference companion was shadowed at the time by his petty criticisms and curiosities, however, it was still an influential work of criticism.  

Unlike previous critical publications, Douce did not include Shakespeare's full plays within his edition, but rather cited notes primarily from Steevens's earlier editions. Douce’s writings are accompanied by woodcut engravings by British artist John Berryman (1778-1840). Berryman produced the engravings from Douce’s own collection of prints to hammer home his point of view and visually expand upon definitions including cressets, carcans, and bird-bolts in Volume One.

View more Shakespeare Weekend posts. 

-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern 

[thebeautifulbook]

MELISENDE PSALTER (Armenia, 1139) Illuminated manuscript in the British Museum.

‘Melisende (1105–c. 1160) was a Frankish princess. She and her husband, Fulk V of Anjou, became joint rulers of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1131. However within a year she and her husband were at war – which Melisende and her supporters won. Thereafter she became a great patron of the arts, founding an abbey at Bethany and commissioning this magnificent psalter.’

source

[pwlanier]

This rare example of Southern vernacular furniture was once used to hold haircutting and shaving implements in a Black-owned West Virginia barbershop. The stand and its freestanding shelf are constructed from reused pieces of old furniture. The artist added many bands of v-notched wood and finished the set with shades of red, blue, yellow, and black paint. Historically, barbershops have played an important function as a place of social networking and cultural production within African American communities, and they can also be sites of spiritual exchange. The High’s collection includes work by other artists, such as Elijah Pierce and Ulysses S. Davis, who were barbers, ministers, and accomplished wood carvers. Although the artist behind this work remains unidentified, they appeared to have a spiritual dimension, as well, given the altar-like quality of this object.

High Museum

[msweebyness]

Akuma Class Families (Weeby’s Canon)

These are the family members of the akuma class in my canon, enjoy! Keep an eye out for the theater kids! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Marinette:

SAME AS CANON

Adrien:

SAME AS CANON

Alya:

SAME AS CANON

Nino:

Antoine Lahiffe

Music teacher

Total Hippie Dad

Believes all music to be beautiful and valid

Constantly loses his glasses

Ships Alyno

Margie Lahiffe

Customer service rep for a retail chain

Girl Boss, you don't tell her no

Strict but loving

Might push Nino a little too hard, not on purpose

Loves Alya so much

(Also Chris obviously)

Chloe:

SAME AS CANON

Sabrina:

(Obviously Roger)

Tatiana “Tanya” Raincomprix

Divorced from Roger

Defense attorney

Sabrina sees her on weekends

A bit distant, doesn't show much emotion

Rose:

Jasper Lavillant

Sweetest man alive

Owns a glass blowing business, known throughout Paris

How is he always happy?

Ships his daughter and Juleka

Lillian “Lily” Lavillant

Co-owns a flower shop

Ray of pure sunshine, but a mama bear lurks within

A bit overprotective due to Rose's condition

Also ships JuleRose

Juleka:

SAME AS CANON

Max:

(Claudie, duh)

Darius Kanté

Computer technician

Gave Max the genius/nerd gene

A lil awkward

Sees Markov as part of the family

Kim:

Le Hai Lanh

Owns a cafe, traditional Vietnamese

Gave Kim the himbo gene

Mans is buff

Papa Wolf to his son and daughters

Ships Kimdine

Etienne Ature

Manages the restaurant

Nervous bean, a little overprotective

Has a thing for muscles

Mumbles a lot

Also ships Kimdine

Mai Nguyen

BUFF GODDESS

Personal trainer

Poly relationship with Lanh and Etienne

Mess with her kids and she will eff you up

Has already claimed Ondine as her daughter-in-law

Le Thi Anh

Mother Hen Big Sister

Kim will always be a baby in her eyes

The responsible one

Already calls Ondine her sister

Le Hoa Vinh

Not a people person

Takes LONG to warm up to people

Always making fun of Kim

Snarky 24/7

Le Liem Dao

Female Kim, basically

Queen of dares, always competing with her brother

She buff

LOUD

Alix:

(Jalil & Alim)

Salma Kubdel

Museum Curator

Free spirit, Alix takes after her

A really good artist

Sees Nath like a nephew, loves him

Ivan:

Iosif Bruel

A mountain of a man, Ivan is his mini-me

Doesn't say much

A gentle giant like his son

Construction foreman

Quietly ships Myvan

Galina Bruel

DO NOT tick this woman off

Mama Bear

Small but powerful

Loves Mylene like her own daughter

Manager of a furniture outlet

Sasha Bruel

Scarier than her big brother sometimes

Ivan will bury you if you hurt her

Has a little crush on Kiran

Mature for her age

Adores Mylene

Mylene:

SAME AS CANON

Nathaniel:

Aya Kurtzberg (From Artzy, I love her)

Cafe owner

Massive mama bear

Adores Marc

Swears in Yiddish

BONUS:

Ondine:

Arturo Rivas

Moved to Paris from Mexico

A little bit uptight

Regional manager of an office supply chain

V protective of his family

Not totally sold on Kim

Elsie Rivas

Scottish accent to the max

Has a hell of a temper

Bus driver

Only person capable of controlling her sons

Ships Kimdine

Rico & Duncan Rivas

Identical twins, down to tooth chips

Menaces to society, may actually be demons

Adore their sister

Have electrocuted Kim on two non-consecutive occasions

Leave thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[marykk1990]

My next post in support of Ukraine is:

Next site, the Tarnovskyi Chernihiv Regional Historical Museum in Chernihiv, Chernihiv Oblast. It's one of the oldest museums in Ukraine and was established in 1896. Instead of me writing about the museum, I'm going to attach a link to the Museum Portal site. The link has a virtual tour of the museum. Pretty awesome! I'm also adding another link to an article about the museum & what was planned at the museum for the day that the full-scale invasion started, an event which had to be canceled so they could save the museum collection.

#StandWithUkraine

#SlavaUkraïni 🇺🇦🌻

[marzipanandminutiae]

I was looking at the Nantucket whaling museum's exhibit on scrimshaw corset busks yesterday and I had a couple questions I thought I'd send you, since I know that there's a lot of bad information about corsets out there.

The exhibit said the scrimshaw busks likely weren't used, which struck me as odd--it seems like the idea of your wife or sweetheart wearing the busk close to her heart would be part of the value of the gift. Would corset busks be at risk of damage from ordinary wear? Do you know if there's any evidence one way or another for the scrimshaw busks being worn, or not?

Also, the exhibit said that early nineteenth century corsets only had the single busk for support, and it wasn't until the 1830s that corsets started to have multiple, smaller whalebone stays throughout. Is that right? It just seems like it wouldn't work very well, and it seems odd that multiple stays would be used in the 18th century and then go away and then come back in the mid 19th century. Unless they mean that the corsets were mainly stiffened with cording?

I would question most of that, yeah.

Busks CAN get broken while you're wearing them. I have a friend who broke the (wooden) busk in her Regency stays by putting all her weight against the thin piece at the top of a railing. The focused pressure with the weight behind it snapped her busk in half inside the stays. So I guess I see why an especially cautious woman might not use the busk carved for her by a loved one?

That being said...they were made to be used. To be worn next to one's heart, as you said. While one can theoretically break a busk in the course of everyday wear, I feel like it wasn't a universal certainty. So to say that they were never used seems a bit of a stretch.

Now, it's possible they meant that the examples there displayed likely weren't ever used, and that I'd be more willing to believe. Not sure I think that would be easy to determine- what wear would show on a busk, given its placement within the garment? But I haven't studied busk wear patterns, so maybe there's a telltale sign that I'm not thinking of.

The other half is easier to address: it's BS. While cording was a popular method of stiffening corsets in the late 18th-early 19th centuries (and remained so pretty much until the end of the Corset Era), they absolutely could have other boned areas besides just the busk. Sure, "busk and cording/quilting only" models did exist; they just weren't the only option.

(Short stays, 1795-1800, V&A Collection. See those casings? Those are for baleen bones.)

(Corset/long stays, c. 1825-35, V&A Collection. There are definitely two bones on either side of the busk, and some channels on the front hip area that could be for bones or wide cording; uncertain which.)

I'll take "interpretation issues that could be solved with a judiciously placed 'often'' for $500, Alex

[fashionbooksmilano]

Flowers & Mushrooms

Essays by M. Harder, M. Moschik, T. Teufel, P. Weiermair, V. Ziegelmaier et al.

Hirmer Verlag, München 2013, 256 pages, 24x28,5cm, ISBN 9783777421605

euro 40,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

Flowers and Mushrooms takes readers inside the rich and diverse symbolism of its eponymous subjects. Flowers have at times stood for freshness and fertility, transience and death. In addition to its ubiquitous and much-maligned image as a hallucinogen, the mushroom has throughout history signified health and life and served as an important symbol within religious ritual. In recent years though, flowers and mushrooms have become a focus in contemporary art, with artists manipulating the many clichés that surround them and adapting their representation to produce new and unexpected layers of meaning, from social criticism to feminism and the conceptual framework of the erotic. Among the leading plant portraitists are the Swiss duo Peter Fischli and David Weiss, whose series of forty photographs epitomize the potential to shed new light on familiar objects by presenting them in unusual context.

The exhibition at MdM Museum der Moderne - Salzburg presents works from Nobuyoshi Araki, Anna Atkins, Eliška Bartek, Christopher Beane, Karl Blossfeldt, Lou Bonin-Tchimoukoff, Balthasar Burkhard, Giovanni Gastel, Georgia Creimer, Imogen Cunningham, Nathalie Djurberg, Hans-Peter Feldmann, Peter Fischli/David Weiss, Sylvie Fleury, Seiichi Furuya, Ernst Haas, Carsten Höller, Judith Huemer, Dieter Huber, Rolf Koppel, August Kotzsch, David LaChapelle, Edwin Hale Lincoln, Chen Lingyang, Vera Lutter, Katharina Malli, Robert Mapplethorpe, Elfriede Mejchar, Moritz Meurer, Paloma Navares, Nam June Paik, Marc Quinn, Albert Renger-Patzsch, Zeger Reyers, Pipilotti Rist, August Sander, Gitte Schäfer, Shirana Shahbazi, Luzia Simons, Thomas Stimm, Robert von Stockert, William Henry Fox Talbot, Diana Thater, Stefan Waibel, Xiao Hui Wang, Andy Warhol, Alois Auer von Welsbach, Michael Wesely, Manfred Willmann, Andrew Zuckerman.

07/03/24

[ladychlo]

Hello!! I briefly saw in your tags one morning about the flowers that Harry was wearing in the LNT mv. Did you ever elaborate more about the flowers? What can you tell me about them, if you don’t mind? Thanks!

Hi love!

I talked a bit about it here because it was the first thing I noticed, of course, its just a queer reading but I found it quite interesting that he was wearing the big flowers in three scenes, the observed bed/ the date/ the wedding. so it made me think of Queer Botany and The aesthetic movement in Britain and how flowers were queer coded in what comes to art either writing (oscar wilde, virginia woolf..etc) or visualized like paintings (Van Gogh's sunflowers) and decoration. And besides Lavender and violets were and still representitive for lesbians and sapphic women, the Pansy Craze well for ''pansies'' and effeminate men, green carnation is famously worn by Oscar Wilde as a symbol of homosexuality and sunflower and the lily were also one of the most recognizable floral icons of the Aesthetic Movement and their significance has a queer connotation through this movement.

and recently the V&A Museum did an exhibition called Fashioning Masculinities: The Art of Menswear with Gucci as a partnership, and on the finale of the show they had the Gucci ball gown that was worn by Harry on the cover of Vogue to talk about  gender-blurring fashion X

they also have Harry as the background for the exhibition announcement on the website

he is was wearing one of the now exhibited suits

In the exhibition they also have a section called ''Queer Botany'' where they explain how flowers and botany, in general, was used to signal queer identities:

Oscar Wilde for example was famously known for wearing the green carnation during appearances ''the color green and the carnation flower were queered representations of the homosexual “underbelly” of the Aesthetic Movement'' X

and it makes you think of the big flowers or the lilies Harry was wearing in the music video with his date and on the wedding

not only the Green Carnation was a representation of the queer side of the aesthetic movement but also Lilies and sunflowers.

for example, these two teapots satirise, mocking with their big flowers (lily and sunflower) tucked in their buttonhole and their limp wrists the movement, these two teapots were actually a satire with a criticism underneath it towards the way the movement was defining gender and sexuality, under the teapots is written “Fearful consequences through the laws of Natural Selection and Evolution of Living up to one’s Teapot'' portraying ''fears circulating in the 1880s about the effects that effeminacy and the blurring of gender roles might have on the future British population'' X

the lily and sunflowers were sort of used to symbolize how queer people used them to reverse a heteronormative meanings of the flowers, and how they were used to gender bend what feminine and masculine means:

the sunflower and lily were typically ascribed to the male and female gender, deftly queers the sunflower motif as it also existed as an “emblem of aesthetic longing” related to both unconditional, yet unrequited love [...]

the sunflower and lily are symbols of aesthetic longing and purity, respectively (..) the sunflower speaks to unrequited love that “dares not speak its name” as Wilde is often quoted, or a love that could not find valid acceptance in nineteenth-century society. X

the lilies for example, through this aesthetic movement and the queerness that defined it, these flowers were queered enough to no longer mean traditional interpretations of purity but as a way to reevaluate the definition of purity and '' arguing for a perception of queer identity that isn’t considered “dirty”'' X

like the Lily, through this movement and the queerification of botany as aesthetic, ''the actions of queer couples could be and were viewed as natural and organic within this cultural subset. Natural, beautiful, and pure, the lily could thus be invoked as the apotheosis of the Aesthetic Movement, while simultaneously being a symbol and defense of homosexuality'' X

so yeah, to just conclude, I think its really interesting that he had the flowers (that are actually from the new collection of Gucci called love Parade) with his date and while officiating that wedding :)

[useramor]

fwb snippet :)

i'm on ft with @diazly as i pack, and i told her if she correctly guessed how much lighter my luggage got after i moved some clothes out, i would post something for her. she got it within the two pound margin, and asked for a snippet so here y'all go lmao

throwback to chapter two!!

“I tried getting off yesterday, you know?” Buck says, pressing the heel of his hand into the growing bulge in Eddie’s pants. “I kept wishing it was your hand. You know the last time I wanted someone else’s touch like that?”

Eddie swallows. He can hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest, holds his breath to see if it’ll make it calm down but it only seems to make the blood rushing in his ears louder. 

“You should do something about it, then.” Eddie hopes Buck doesn’t pick up the waver in his tone. It wasn’t even from nerves, not really. It wasn’t so much anxiety as it was anticipation. Eddie just doesn’t feel like stroking Buck’s ego by letting him know just how much he’s been waiting for this. 

He’d rather stroke something else. 

“Like what?” Buck asks.

Eddie nearly trips in his haste to take his pants off, and Buck starts to laugh before nearly tripping himself. Eddie snorts. Buck flips him off. They stand up at the same time, and, wow. They haven’t gotten a chance to do this sober, yet. Always a little drunk, and maybe that was safer — it’s not gay when there’s a little too much alcohol involved, or something. 

But they’re stone cold sober. Eddie’s gonna regret it later when he’s sitting in his truck, but he’s stupidly horny and Buck’s more attractive than Eddie remembers him being. Maybe it’s the lighting. Something is doing wonders for his abs. 

“Like what you see?” Buck teases, flexing and posing in a way that makes his v-line stand out. Eddie’s sure girls probably go crazy for that. 

“I’m not gay, man.”

“Your dick is interested.”

“My dick can’t tell the difference.”

Buck nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. Eddie doesn’t know why that unsettles him so much. 

Eddie, because he’s kind of tired of them standing there with their dicks out and doing nothing about it, closes the gap between them and wraps a hand around Buck’s cock. 

It twitches in his hand, pre-cum dripping out the head of it. Buck’s big. Feels almost bigger like this, in the bright lights of their station, the weight of it heavy and solid wrapped up in his fingers. Eddie goes slow, because he’s got a feeling that Buck probably takes his time when he does it to himself. Probably teases himself, grip nowhere near tight enough for any real relief.

Eddie’s suspicions are proven correct when Buck inhales sharply, his head tipping back against the shower wall. 

He pulls away for a second, smirking at Buck’s whine of protest, and turns the water on. 

“You want to waste water? You know we’re in a drought, right?”

“California’s always in a drought,” Eddie tosses back. “Besides, you’re sweaty, and I stink.”

Buck smiles, and whatever tension there was between them seems to disappear down the drain. 

“Also, I don’t need B-shift to listen to me jerking you off.”

Buck opens his mouth like he’s gonna say something, a quick-witted retort to Eddie’s teasing, but Eddie suddenly tugging hard and fast on his cock seems to make his brain short-circuit. 

Being suddenly so sharply aware of everything should probably make him freak out more. He knows he’d be losing his shit if this was just a year ago, but it’s like he said at the museum — he’s comfortable with himself. Enough to not get grossed out by the way Buck’s dick is smearing precome all over his fist. 

“Fuck, let me—” Buck gets out between breathy moans before wrapping his own hand around Eddie. 

They moan at the same time. It echoes, bouncing off the shower tiles, and it makes both of them pause, waiting to see if anyone heard. There’s distant chatter, but it’s too quiet and muffled to be coming from inside the locker room. 

Buck moves first. Eddie follows shortly after. It’s kind of an odd angle; Eddie’s reaching around Buck’s  arm, and it’s like there’s some sort of weird no non-dick touching rule that they both agreed upon, because they make sure not to let their arms brush. 

It’s one thing to shut his eyes and let fingers and touches and tugs get him off. It’s another to have Buck’s hand attached to Buck’s arm attached to Buck. 

Though, he’s really not sure why. Because it’s not like he wants to do this with anyone else. And it’s not like he doesn’t get the opportunity. Hell, every call to a public place is an opportunity. Women flirt with him left and right, but it never felt right. 

He needs trust. And there’s no one in the world he trusts more than Buck. 

Buck, who is hitching his hips up into Eddie’s fist and coming with a loud groan that’s only muffled by Eddie’s hand smacking over his mouth to shut him up. 

And, because he’s incredibly mature, Buck licks between his fingers.