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notwiselybuttoowell · 1 year

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In 2014, the Guardian asked me to nominate my hero of the year. To some people’s surprise, I chose Russell Brand. I loved the way he energised young people who had been alienated from politics. I claimed, perhaps hyperbolically, he was “the best thing that has happened to the left in years” (in my defence, there wasn’t, at the time, much competition).

Today, I can scarcely believe it’s the same man. I’ve watched 50 of his recent videos, with growing incredulity. He appears to have switched from challenging injustice to conjuring phantoms. If, as I suspect it might, politics takes a very dark turn in the next few years, it will be partly as a result of people like Brand.

It’s hard to decide which is most dispiriting: the stupidity of some of the theories he recites, or the lack of originality. He repeatedly says he’s not a conspiracy theorist, but, to me, he certainly sounds like one.

In 2014, he was bursting with new ideas and creative ways of presenting them. Today, he wastes his talent on tired and discredited tales: endless iterations of the alleged evils of the World Economic Forum founder, Klaus Schwab, the Great Reset, Bill Gates, Nancy Pelosi, the former US chief medical adviser, Anthony Fauci, Covid vaccines, medical data, the World Health Organization, Pfizer, smart cities and “the globalist masterplan”.

His videos appear to promote “natural immunity” ahead of vaccines, and for a while pushed ivermectin and hydroxychloroquine as treatments for Covid (they aren’t).

He championed the “Freedom Convoy” that occupied Ottawa, which apparently stood proudly against the “tyranny” of Justin Trudeau’s policies. He hawks Graham Hancock’s widely debunked claims about ancient monuments.

A wildly popular clip from one of his videos about the Dutch nitrate crisis offers a classic conspiracy theory mashup: a tangle of claims that may be true in other contexts, random accusations, scapegoating and resonances with some old and very ugly tropes. He claims that “this whole fertiliser situation is a scam”. The real objective is “to bankrupt the farmers so their land can be grabbed”. This “shows you how the Great Reset operates”, using “globalist” regulations to throw farmers off their land. He claims it’s “connected to the land grab of Bill Gates” and the “corruption of companies like Monsanto”.

In reality, the Dutch government was forced to act by a legal ruling, as levels of nitrate pollution, largely from livestock farms, break European law. Its attempts to curb this pollution have nothing to do with the World Economic Forum and its vacuous rhetoric about a “Great Reset”. Or with Bill Gates. Or with Monsanto, which hasn’t existed since 2018 when it was bought by Bayer. So why mention them? Perhaps because these terms have become potent click triggers.

Brand is repeating claims first made by far-right conspiracists, who have piled into this issue, claiming that the nitrate crisis is a pretext to seize land from farmers, in whom, they claim, true Dutch identity is vested, and hand it to asylum seekers and other immigrants. It’s a version of the “great replacement” conspiracy theory, itself a reworking of the Nazis’ blood and soil tropes about protecting the “rooted” and “authentic” people – in whom “racial purity” and “true” German identity was vested – from “cosmopolitan” and “alien” forces (ie Jews). Brand may not realise this, as the language has changed a little – “cosmopolitans” have become “globalists”, “aliens” have become “immigrants” – but the themes have not.

On and drearily on he goes. He manages to confuse the World Health Organization’s call for better pandemic surveillance (by which it means the tracking of infectious diseases) with coercive surveillance of the population, creating “centralised systems of control where you are ultimately a serf”.

Some of his many rants about Bill Gates are illustrated with an image of the man wearing a multicoloured lapel badge, helpfully circled in red. This speaks to another widespread conspiracy theory: those who wear this badge are members of a secret organisation conspiring to control the world (so secret they stick it on their jackets). In reality, it shows support for the UN sustainable development goals.

Such claims are not just wrong. They are wearyingly, boringly wrong. But, to judge by the figures (he has more than 6 million subscribers on YouTube), the audience loves them.

Some of his theories, such as his recent obsession with UFOs, are innocuous enough. Others have potential to do great harm. There’s the risk to the people scapegoated, such as Fauci, Schwab and Pelosi: subjects of conspiracy theories often become targets of violence. There are the risks misleading claims present to public health. And bizarre stories about shadowy “elites” protect real elites from scrutiny and challenge.

While I’m not suggesting this is his purpose, it’s a tactic used deliberately by powerful people to disarm those who might otherwise hold them to account. Donald Trump’s former chief strategist, Steve Bannon, had a term for it: “flood the zone with shit”. As Naomi Klein has shown, the Great Reset conspiracy theory was conceived by a staffer at the Heartland Institute, a US lobby group that has promoted climate denial and other billionaire-friendly positions. It’s a bastardisation of her shock doctrine hypothesis, distracting people from the malfeasance of those with real power.

#russell brand #british comedy #conspiracy theories #george monbiot #uk politics

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silentglassbreak · 4 months

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Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

!!!There is finally smut in this chapter!!!!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying, this is a work of fiction. All of my words are my own. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess

Part 5 - Bad Decisions

Three months and three days, since I had met Noah Sebastian. Since he had walked into my group, reserved and exhausted, ready for a change. Three months and one day since I had agreed to be his sponsor. Since I had taken on the role of maintaining his sanity and sobriety with him. Three months exactly since Noah kissed me, causing me to pull back on our relationship.

I had given myself a silent rule that I never told Noah: we did not meet in person, outside of group, unless it was dire. So far, we had not gotten to that point.

He called me often, needing support. We talked on the phone, sometimes for only a few minutes while he panicked, I calmed him down, and he focused on breathing. Sometimes, we talked for a long time. I suspected he called me at times, out of pure boredom.

Two weeks after his show in Hollywood, he finally told the members of the band that he had began AA. As I suspected, they were all very supportive, most notably, Nick Ruffilo, his best friend since childhood. He even brought Nick to our last 'Loved Ones' session, where we asked everyone to bring someone in their lives who supported their recovery. Some people only brought their sponsors, but some brought their husbands, wives. Girlfriends. I always brought Laura.

I met Nick that day. He was polite, had the most charming smile, and shook my hand respectfully.

"You're the famous Leena, huh?" Noah had been talking to Syd when Nick approached me.

"Famous?" I quirked my eyebrow. He smiled brightly.

"You've kept my boy straight for a whole month."

I nodded in understanding. As fate may have it, the day Nick came to group, was the same day Noah had earned his 30-day coin. He had earned himself a large round of applause, as well as his favorite flavor of cupcakes in class. Red velvet, cream cheese frosting, graham cracker dust. I'll never forget, I asked Laura to make them.

Nick cared deeply for Noah, I could see it. I knew the other members, Folio and Jolly, did as well, but I believed Nick was his best source of support.

I broached the subject with Noah about a week later of Nick being his sponsor. I saw the look on his face while he sipped on his coffee, group having just ended.

"Oh, I didn't even think about it." He was looking at the ground, something he regularly did when he was uncomfortable.

"I mean, it was just an idea?" I tried to stay warm, comforting. Noah didn't always go for that. He had his moments where he felt patronized, and preferred I be straight with him. Usually when he was in a bad mood.

"I could ask him, I guess." He still wouldn't look at me.

I sighed, quirking my lips in a smile. "You don't have to. I'm happy to keep being your sponsor, Noah."

He looked at me finally, through his lashes. "You just know how to pull me back from the brink. He doesn't."

I nodded in understanding. "Guess you're stuck with me then." I beamed at him, earning a smile back.

Today, Noah was earning his 90-day coin, right before he leaves for tour. He got to go first in group, discussing his experience through recovery. He also got his special cupcakes, Laura turning up special to deliver them by hand. He was like a kid in a candy store, nearly hopping up and down when she handed him his special cupcake, bigger than the rest. He was ever thankful that she was a talented baker, promising to bring him and the band cupcakes during their tour dates here in LA.

The band had added 17 additional tour dates, beginning the tour in the summer instead of fall. They would have three months off from June to September, and would head to Europe in December. The success of the band was exciting, and stressful all the same for Noah. I saw the toll it took.

Two weeks ago, he finally told his girlfriend about his recovery. We didn't talk about Lily often at all, but he definitely did not want to discuss that subject. I gathered that it did not go well. All I learned was that she told him she needed space, and backed out of tagging along on the first part of the tour with them. She promised to catch up in September.

I saw how this affected Noah, and his sad days had been more frequent lately. Seeing him happy to be receiving his coin was a relief.

"Can I make a request for my 90-day?" He sat in his regular chair, directly across the circle from me, his too-dark eyes on mine.

"Within reason." I responded with a suspicious grin.

"Can you tell me one thing about you that I don't already know?" Everyone in group looked directly to me, including our two newcomers. All eyes seemed confused. As was I.

"Like what?" I crossed my legs, trying to hide my uncomfortable posture.

"Anything."

I blinked, my head swirling. Something he didn't know? We had learned quite a bit about each other over the last three months. In group or on the phone, we had played twenty questions more than once.

"Well," I sighed, knowing that my confession would be news to everyone, as I never talked about it. "my sponsor is my Dad."

He looked taken back, not expecting that. "Really?"

I nodded coolly. "Yep. Since I got sober three years ago." I relaxed a bit in my chair. "He's the reason I got sober."

Noah sat back and folded his arms, intent on listening to me. He gestured for me to continue.

"At 25, I was set down the worst road. I had been actively drinking since I was 16, and really struggling since 18. I dropped out of college, went through job after job, ended up in jail a few times. And that's the mild stuff. I won't bore you all with the gruesome details." I glanced around the room. The only person who knew even half of my story was Abel, and he was unfortunately not here today, so I felt vulnerable.

"My mother was an alcoholic, who died when I was very young from her addictions." I could feel tears threatening to come to the surface. My throat was forming a lump I just couldn't swallow. "My Dad, who swore to never drink again after she died, decided that once I hit rock bottom, to take me to her gravesite."

I looked down at my hands, feeling my voice shake. "He had purchased a plot for me right next to her when I turned 21, because he swore I would be with her sooner rather than later."

One traitorous tear spilled down my cheek, and I wiped it away feverishly. "So I had him drive me to a meeting. He stayed with me. Came with me to every single one."

I laughed at the thought. "He would sit in the car and listen to Country music while he waited. And every time I fell off, he drove me right back. He's my rock. He's the reason I'm alive."

I was still looking at my hands when I heard the clapping. My head snapped up to see Noah, his hands clapping together before everyone else joined. It was a liberating moment, but I was still vulnerable.

I checked my watch, noticing that we were over on our time.

"Thank you, everyone." The applause died down. "I appreciate each and every one of you. Unfortunately, we've got to get out of here before Angie comes in and rips me a new one."

At home, Angel and I were curled up on the couch, enjoying our favorite movie (it was my favorite, so it was his favorite by default), Silent Hill. I was tossing him single popcorn kernels as I ate and watched intently.

"See, baby, this is the part where all of the piece of shit cultists get what they deserve!" He looked at me with his honey brown eyes, clearly understanding every word I said.

My ringtone went off, and I almost ignored it, because we were so close to the end, and figured the call could wait until after. That is, until I realized it was Noah's ringtone. I had switched his a while ago to a song by his own band, so I knew when it needed to be answered at any cost.

I rushed over to the kitchen counter, not even bothering to pause the movie.

"Hello?"

"I need a fucking drink, Leena." His voice was cracked, and sounded wet. Was he...crying?

"No, you don't." My immediate response anytime he said that.

"No Leena, I'm driving to a bar. I can't fucking do this."

The panic rose in my chest, threatening to spill in the form of vomit. No, not now. Not after we've worked this hard.

"Noah Sebastian, I will kick you out of group."

"Who fucking cares?" I scoffed.

"Uh, you do, apparently. You called me."

"Mostly just calling to let you know I'm a fucking failure. So, sorry to waste your time."

My mouth worked faster than I could stop it. "Come to my place."

He was quiet. "Nah, bar sounds better."

"Noah, come see me. Please. And if you still want a drink afterwards, then I won't stop you."

I could tell he was perusing this. "You don't ever see me outside of group, remember?"

"Well, fuck that for right now. Come see me."

He groaned. "Leena, it's midnight. You should be asleep."

"Yet, I'm awake. 3AM ice cream, remember?"

There was silence, only the sound of a blinker in the background.

"Where do you live?"

Without answering, I dropped him my location pin.

"Says I'm ten minutes away." I sighed a breath of relief.

"Door's unlocked."

Despite my telling him to come in, he knocked. Angel stood at attention, to which I instructed him to sit and stay. I opened the door to find a soaking wet Noah. I didn't even realize it was raining.

He looked awful. Clearly had been crying, his clothes soaked through from the storm. I grabbed his arm and hastily pulled him in to avoid any more weather getting hold of him.

"Jesus Christ, dude." He just stood in my doorway, staring at me.

A low growl left Angel, bringing our attention to him.

"Angel, come." Robotically, he came to me and I pointed to Noah. "Let him smell you. He's protection trained."

Noah raised a brow. "What kind of dog?"

"He's a mutt. Bluetick Hound and Husky. 90 pounds of death if he doesn't like you."

I saw Noah stiffen slightly as Angel sniffed his legs, shoes, and hands. Once he was satisfied that he was safe, Angel stepped back.

"Go to bed." I pointed to the room and he took off, following the command.

"Hm, good dog." Noah's tone was surprised.

"I live alone in LA, I've got to do something to protect myself."

He nodded and stepped onto the tile floor after me toward the hallway. I noticed how wet he was.

"Wait here. I'll get you some dry clothes."

He looked at me incredulously. "You think they'll fit?"

I rolled my eyes. "Wait here."

I returned two minutes later with a pair of men's sweats and a faded Disturbed t-shirt. "They're my brother's. I'm sure they'll fit."

He nodded in appreciation and I pointed to the bathroom.

He returned moments later, soaking clothes in hand. I walked over and grabbed them from him and walked further down the hall to my laundry room. Checking the many pockets on his pants, I threw his clothing in the dryer and started it.

Padding back into the living room, I waved him over to the couch. We both sat on opposite ends, me leaned back, pulling the throw over myself, him dropping his head into his hands.

"You want to talk about it?" He just shook his head. I pursed my lips. "You want to watch a movie?" He looked up at me from over his shoulder.

"Like what?"

I smiled, picking up my remote. "Well, I just finished Silent Hill, but I've got all the streaming networks, so I can get anything."

He furrowed his brows. "Silent Hill? Like, the game?"

My jaw dropped. "You've never seen the movie?"

He just shook his head. "Can't say I have."

"Well fuck, let me just restart it."

He snorted. "Didn't you just watch it?"

"It's my favorite movie, ever. I'll watch it again."

He sat up straight, then leaned his back on the couch. I reached behind me on the side table, grabbing another blanket and chucking it at him. He smiled a small, sad look at me, and unfolded it over his lap.

During the movie, Noah's demeanor loosened ever so subtly. He started with his back against the couch, arms in his lap, looking unamused. By the first call of the Darkness, he was leaning forward, paying closer attention. At the first sight of Pyramid Head, he was interested. And by the hospital scene, he was asking questions.

"I still don't understand, why does Sharon look like Alessa? And why did the little girl say she was burning?"

"Would you be patient?! We're literally getting to that part right now!" He shook his head and leaned back, crossing his legs underneath him and his body moved slightly closer to my legs that were outstretched on the area between us.

His leg bumped my foot, and he looked over, noticing I was glancing at him.

"Oh, my bad." He scooched back to his side, and I snickered.

"I'm not going to combust if you touch my foot Noah, it's no biggie."

He smirked, mischievously. "Well, in that case." He then stretched his giant self out across the couch, pulling my legs up over his legs. He nestled in, pulling the blanket up to his chest.

It was at this point that I actually noticed.

"Hold the fucking phone." I quickly paused the movie and his head snapped to me.

"What?"

"You cut your fucking hair?!" His hair was easily eight inches shorter, sitting just below his ears. How it took me this long to notice is beyond me.

He laughed nervously, and ran his hand through his locks. "Yeah, after group, I went and got it cut. Felt like I needed a change."

I smiled brightly, reaching over and tousling it. "I like it. It suits you."

He leaned back, his face appreciative.

I played the movie, and he was absolutely enamored. It was always fun watching someone experience this movie for the first time.

Once the credits began to play, his eyes were much brighter. "Are you tired?"

I shook my head. "Nah, not right now."

"Want to watch another one?"

I stood up. "Sure, but I've got to pee and grab a water bottle. You want one?"

He nodded, swiping the remote and scrolling through the networks to find another movie.

I called Angel to his bed in the living room, and took care of my business. When I returned, he had 13 Ghosts pulled up on the screen.

"Can we watch my favorite now?" I smirked.

"Absolutely, it is also one of my favorites."

He pressed play, and I walked past him, my thigh catching the edge of the couch, causing me to stumble toward the coffee table.

Before I could connect with the glass, his arm was around my arm, pulling me back toward the couch. I landed square in his lap. It took me a second to process. He smiled at me nervously.

"Sorry, didn't want you getting a concussion."

I slid off his lap, but was now seated closer to him, by side nearly pressed against his chest. He turned his attention back to the TV, throwing his blanket over the both of us casually.

I pulled my bare legs up under the blanket, now very aware that all I wore was a pair of too-short gym shorts, a plain white t-shirt, and socks. I was home alone earlier, in my defense. My knee was pressing into the side of his leg, but he didn't seem to notice.

His body radiated so much heat, I instinctively sunk down further under the blanket. His gargantuan arm was draped over the back of the couch, the back of my head pressed against it.

I let myself get into the movie for a while. We made it about half an hour in before I felt him shift. He stretched his legs in front of me, now in near full laying position. His arm tugged my shoulder and I looked at him.

His eyes were honest, or so it seemed. "It's just cuddling. I haven't had anyone to cuddle with in a while."

I pondered this for a moment. My brain screamed against it, told me it was wrong and I knew where this could go. But he was so warm. He was so comfortable. I slid down, stretching my legs over his, my chest laying on his. My face had nowhere to go but on his collarbone while I tried desperately to watch the television.

Something tugged at me, which I tried to ignore for a while. I couldn't for too long before I piped up.

"How would your girlfriend feel about us 'just cuddling'?"

I felt his chest still, his breathing stopped for a beat.

"She dumped me." I snapped my head up

"What?"

He sighed, not looking back at me. "Why do you think I needed a drink?"

"Oh, Noah." I moved to sit up, but his arm around my waist held me in place while he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can we please just...not?" When he looked back at me, he had a single tear trying to escape from the corner of his eye.

"Okay." I softly responded and gently leaned back down. His arm secured me in place, while the movie continued to play.

About halfway through, I felt my eyelids getting heavy. His fingers that were holding my waist had been drawing small circles on my back for a few minutes, and I was fading quickly. The warmth, the comfort. He wasn't the only one who hadn't cuddled in a while.

"Are you asleep?"

This roused me. "Hmm? No. Just comfortable." My voice was raspy with sleep, my eyes only half open.

His chest shook with the rumble of a laugh. "You want me to head home?"

I slightly shook my head. "Warm." His hand rubbed up my arm now, coming to rest on the cap of my shoulder. I heard a low humming sound, and realized it was him, humming a tune that I couldn't place.

"It should be illegal to be able to sing that good." This made him snicker.

"Too bad, huh?" I sighed, relaxing. "Maybe if I wasn't so talented, you'd actually like me."

This made me slowly lift my head, narrowing my eyes at him. "You are an insufferable human Noah Sebastian." He smiled a goofy grin at me. "I am trying to relax, here."

His hand came up to brush my hair from my face, his eyes locked on my tired ones.

"You're really beautiful Mileena, you know that?"

I raised my eyebrows, my eyes getting wider. He didn't seem fazed, just studying my face.

"Well...thank you?"

His fingers twirled some stray bands of my hair while his eyes just would not leave mine.

"Would you hate me if I kissed you?"

My stomach bottomed out. I was awake. All the way awake, now. I sighed heavily.

"We can't do that, Noah."

He bit his bottom lip.

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both?"

I rolled onto my side then, slightly breaking the contact between us. He was sat with his head propped on the pillow at the end of the couch. He kept his arm on my waist, but raised himself up just enough to nearly tower over me.

"Would you tell me to stop again?"

He was testing me. I was going to fail if he didn't stop. He felt it.

"Probably."

"Would you make me leave?"

"Is this why you came over? Girlfriend dumps you, so you figure you'd come hook up with your sponsor?" Okay, maybe that came out a little sharper than I intended. But it needed to be said.

"I wasn't planning on coming here. I was set on the bar."

I sighed. He was right. He was on the brink, and I invited him in. Practically begged him.

"Noah, I just...we can't."

His hand reached up to cup the side of my neck, his eyes now fixated on my mouth. I caught the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip.

"Would you make me leave?" He repeated his question.

I didn't answer him, I just stared. I couldn't hide the want on my face anymore. I could feel my eyes pleading with him to just do it. Just make the move, because I couldn't.

With the luckiest break I've had in a while, he read my thoughts, and dipped his face down to brush our lips together.

This was different. This wasn't hungry. It was a hot burn, slow and steady. His hand came up to brush against my face, pulling me just close enough for him to press his face closer, solidifying the kiss.

Once I had the nerve, I moved my lips against his, my body melting against him. We moved slowly, our tongues only trying to make short appearances to taste the other's lips. His kisses on my lips slowed, his hand running down the side of my body, stopping to rest on my hip. Noah's lips began to trail off of my mouth, moving down to my neck, leaving soft kisses over my throat, making my breathing stop altogether.

I'm not entirely sure how long we stayed this way, his lips leaving trails of warmth over my jaw, neck, and collarbone.

I finally reached for him, my arm searching for the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath. My fingers grazed his skin, feeling the solidity of his frame. I felt him breathe out a sigh when I began leaving kisses on his neck. I let the tip of my tongue trace his adam's apple, smiling when the grip on my hip tightened with a nip of his skin.

After he had been tormented enough, he slipped his arm around my waist, flipping to perch over me, laying me flat on my back.

The kiss that came now was burning, hungry, and wild. My fingers pulled at his shirt, lifting it until he had to sit up and pull it over his head.

He wasted no time coming back to attack my neck, nipping and biting carefully, but enough to have me whimpering. He slid one hand up my side, beneath my shirt, and grazed the side of my breast, waiting for a reaction. I arched my back, trying to beg for touch.

His fingers grabbed my entire breast with one hand, pinching my hard nipple and rolling it between his fingers. I gasped at this.

"Oh, Noah..." I heard him hum, a sign of approval.

My hands grabbed his hair, pulling him back to my face. I kissed him while he used his other hand to lift my shirt, exposing both breasts.

It took no time for him to work his way down, taking my nipple in his mouth, leaving me breathless. His tongue circled the hardened bud, driving me absolutely wild.

I could feel his excitement pressing into the inside of my thigh, so I squirmed, causing a friction I'm sure he noticed. I felt the growl more than heard it.

His hand slid up my thigh, stopping on the inside, just before the hem. I could feel myself shaking in anticipation. He hooked the edge of my shorts, and with no mercy, pulled them down viciously, exposing my plain black cotton panties.

His hand glided over my core, feeling how damp the fabric already was. I was breathing heavily, silently begging for more.

"Jesus Christ, Leena." His mouth reached down and kissed my breast again. "So fucking wet."

His words had my brain scrambling. I hadn't been intimate in so long.

His fingers traced over the wet spot, teasing me until I was sure I was going mad.

"Noah..." His eyes looked up to me, my left nipple glistening from his saliva. "Fucking please."

The smile on his face was so wicked, I swear I saw the devil behind it. And this was my one-way ticket to hell. At least it's warm there.

His fingers slipped under the fabric, running up and down over my slit, nearly hitting that one spot I needed.

"This? This is what you want?" His tone was deadly, which had me reeling even harder. I fucking needed him.

I could only nod wildly. His index finger slipped inside, curling at just the right angle, hitting the sweetest spot, I could've burst right then and there.

"That's it. Good girl." His words had me moaning softly, his fingers working me over. Noah continued this until I was nearly seeing stars, his thumb now rubbing circles over my clit. I was ready, so fucking ready, eyes shut tight, climbing the hill and about to fall over. Then it was gone.

My eyes burst open, nearly ready to complain before I felt his hands pulling my panties down, his hot breath just centimeters from my core.

"I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this, Leena. I'll bet you taste incredible." Breathing was out of the question. Air no longer existed.

And that was it, he was on me. His tongue lapping up my pussy, humming while I gripped his hair frantically.

"Holy fuck, Noah."

"That's it baby. Scream my name. Be good for me."

My brain was no longer firing on any cylinders. I was on another plane altogether.

His lips latched onto my sweet spot and sucked like his life depended on it.

"Noah, oh my god! Oh my god, I'm going to come." My back arched off the couch, and my vision went white.

"Noah, Noah, Noah!" My voice was going hoarse. My toes curled and I began to feel the overstimulation, my hips bucking against him.

His arms pinned my legs down, leaving me nowhere to go. I fought for purchase against his skin.

"Please, please I can't. I can't!" He finally released me, lapping at my inner thigh one more time, causing me to shiver.

He sat back, a satisfied grin on his face.

When I looked up at him, I could see the clear bulge in the sweats, and smiled my own wicked grin.

I saw the confusion on his face before I sat up, simultaneously pushing him back on the couch, ripping the front of the pants down. It came to my attention that he wasn't wearing any boxers, so his cock sprung free instantly.

His eyes were fixed on me while I sized up his length, trying to work out how I was going to swallow this damn thing.

I slid the tip of my tongue across the top, eliciting a hiss from his lips. He stared down at me, watching my every calculated move.

With no warning, I wrapped my lips around him, and took him as far down as my throat would allow.

"Oh, fuck..." His eyes went half-masked, his mouth falling open. "Do that again. Jesus Christ."

It didn't sound like a question, so I diligently obeyed. My throat gave out about halfway down his length, causing me to gag. His hand grabbed my hair, nails in my scalp, holding me there.

"Yeah, baby. That's it." He let my head up, saliva dripping from my lips. "You're so good, Leena. Such a good girl."

His hand pressed me back down gently until I had a good rhythm going, my head bobbing, eyes looking up at him.

"Fuck, girl, I'm not going to last like this." I hollowed my cheeks, increasing the suction, and his eyes bulged.

His head flew back, his chest heaving wildly. "Just like that, baby. Don't stop."

I obeyed, suddenly really enjoying the submissive role. His hand guided me faster until I felt him harden to nearly stone.

"I'm going to come, don't stop...fuck don't fucking stop baby."

I felt the first hot stream hit the back of my throat, and I relaxed, waiting for the rest before sucking just a second longer, listening to him hiss in response. I let him out of my mouth with a pop, smiling at him sheepishly when I sat up.

He laid there, eyes closed, hands on his chest, working to breathe.

It took a while, but he eventually opened his eyes. His smile was lazy, and he lifted an arm to pull me down, now laying on his chest again.

He reached behind me and flung the blanket over us, kicking his pants the rest of the way off, and looked down at me.

"We shouldn't have done that, huh?"

I blushed, nuzzling my nose into his neck to hide it as best as I could. "No, we shouldn't have."

He ran his hand up and down my arm, now turning his attention back to the movie that was still playing.

"We'll do better tomorrow." Was the last I heard before my eyes drifted closed.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic

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gabalicious-g · 24 days

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HELLOOO do you have any rap artist recommendations?? saw ur tags on that earlier post :]

hey bestieeeeee

hell yeah i have rap recommendations!!

In terms of artists, definitely Kendrick Lamar because of the lyricism and ability to weave a narrative, Metro Boomin', lil Uzi, Cardi B, 21 savage, Tyler the creator, lil nas x, Doja Cat, Kanye, Megan Thee Stallion, City Girls, Saweetie, and ASAP Rocky all have classics that have shaped the genre in their own way since 2012.

Most songs that have collabs /features with people like SZA, kali uchis, kanye, rihanna, the Weeknd, lana del rey, and other pop artists are pretty fire. Don't shy away from popular songs! They got popular for a reason, and having an artist you know in the song can make a completely new genre less daunting.

In terms of songs, I would definitely suggest:

Just Wanna Rock (lil Uzi), Runnin (21 savage and metro boomin), Right Foot Creep (youngboy never broke again), Collared Greens (ScHoolboy Q, Kendrick lamar), Glock in my lap (21 savage, metro boomin), the Box (Roddy Ricch) because they're hype and iconic.

Songs that have dances attached to them are also a great place to start because then you can straight up see people's enjoyment of it. Songs like juju on that beat, drop it like it's hot, even Wobble (by VIC) and low (by FloRida and T Pain) are really good intro dance songs. The important thing about these songs is that the audience is much broader than for some rap songs. The audience for the dance songs (ie. 'all the shawties in the club', 'west coast', or even 'you') is whoever feels like participating, whereas for example, "Not Like Us' by kendrick is a very specific diss that's meant to be listened to a wide range of people but is a response to Aubrey Drake Graham's bitchass.

#kendrick lamar #<3 #answering asks #rappers #artists #i hope this helps!!#this is more of an intro for rap songs than anything #im so sorry i wrote an essay!#i love rap #and rnb and dance songs and american culture

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iamyouknow-yours · 3 months

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It's been over a year since I got my mobility scooter and longer since I got my cane. So... Mobility Aid Appreciation Post!

Put your own mobility aid appreciation in the notes, I would like to read!

Wheelchair edition:

I can go on fun adventures with friends, spontaneously as well!

I have gone to various parks, to get snacks, and the other day I scooted from university all the way to my friend's house! I went on the side of a small motorway which was a little bit terrifying but it was fun and I was safe.

I can get around campus so speedily. Well apart from that the accessible routes are a little backwards. But I can go fast to them and arrive before people ambling between classes.

Part of the reason is because people just jump out of my way when they see me coming. They move so fast to not be in my way, it is very funny.

Part 2 of that is that I can go through crowds quite easily. It's a little annoying bc people aren't expecting to look down to see people trying to move. But once they see me they move. And they tell other people to move.

People let me sit at the front of things. I got to sit right at the front of a convention panel and I was so near Kat Graham!!

People open doors for me.

I hardly ever have to wait in line for things, I get put in the front and get to skip the queue.

I can be out of the house for much, much longer.

I am way more patient about my friends wanting to take their time doing things and looking in shops because I don't have to stand, I can sit while they do that.

I have way more stamina for being hungry or cold or tired or sore because I can be sitting while experiencing those things.

The battery has only started Running Out one time and even then she did get me home.

It's helped with learning to drive a car because I am better at understanding the turning circle and how reversing while turning works.

I have gotten better at using my scooter! I am pretty good at maneuvering and judging her distance and stuff. I only bump into corners if I'm in a hurry and in my house ie not making an effort to not hit people's walls.

I've had interesting conversations with people who have come up to me to ask about getting one for a family member. This may be not a perk to some people! So keep that in mind. But I think it's also about my vibe, I usually give off the vibe of "you can come talk to me".

Cane edition:

People give up their seats for me. Especially on the train. If there are no seats, then the old women will squish together and then we all sit next to each other. People are really nice about giving me a seat.

I can climb stairs so much easier!

I haven't lost my balance or fallen or twisted my ankle once while using it.

I can lean on it when I get tired which means I can stay out for a bit longer.

I can use it to get up so so much more easily.

I have a built in fidget toy with the strap.

It folds up and so I can put it in my bag to have just in case.

I hurt my leg one time and boom I already had a mobility aid.

I can use it to walk when my tummy hurts and I can't stand up straight.

And to alleviate your fears, no one has asked me why I switch hands when I use it.

Reminder that it is fully allowed and okay to lie to people when they ask why you're using a mobility aid. You can also say, "It's really difficult to talk about."

Or a funny/brave response like "I didn't read the terms and conditions." and "none of your business".

#disability #chronic illness #mobility aid #mobility aids #cane #cane user #wheelchair #wheelchair user #mobility scooter #mobility scooter user #mobility aid appreciation #long post #mobility aid user

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mormon-character-tournament · 9 months

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FINALE!!!!!!

Apologies for the delay folks, I have been having A Week (tm) but here we are!!!!

Character info under the cut

Joshua Graham, who briefly left our tournament, has returned for a last chance at the winning spot! A former Mormon Missionary, he is known as The Burned Man in local folk legends. His stubborn refusal to die after being cast into the Grand Canyon elevated him to mythical status, striking fear into the hearts of superstitious legionaries and members of tribes of Utah and neighboring states.

Quote: “ I have been baptized twice, once in water, once in flame. I will carry the fire of the holy spirit inside until I stand before my Lord for judgment.”

or will you vote for

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! This headcanon has made it all the way to the final round! Although not created by a Mormon, and not canonically Mormon, her novels were written by Shannon Hale, a beloved LDS author.

Doreen is an upbeat hero who has defeated some of Marvel's big bads -- including Doctor Doom and Thanos! She knows the benefits of teamwork, and almost always tries to help the bad guys find ways to stop their no-good ways (ie repent). Plus, with her winning streak it's easy to believe she's got the power of God on her side.

#poll #mormon tournament #canon #headcanon #THE FINAL POLL #squirrel girl #burned man #joshua graham

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stylecouncil · 1 month

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the people need your verdict: were hemingway and fitzgerald lovers?

do I think they were ever physically lovers? I really have no idea/its improbable that it went on too long if it went on at all and what the extent of it would have been, esp considering how weird fitzgerald was about sex to begin with (read sheilah grahams memoir. which I really do think stems from some sort of abuse, esp when you consider certain pretty telling statements about catholicism/the one intense relationship we know he had with a priest as a young man). both were also so publicly defensive about homosexuality (esp fitzgerald, probably out of necessity of being so outwardly feminine, although you see a real complex view/fixation on it in his actual writing) that it would be unlikely real evidence of this would survive whether it happened or not. zelda certainly seemed to think they had an inappropriate relationship in her eyes, but it’s hard to quantify exactly what that means esp when you combine it with the deterioration of her mental state.

the two of them immensely disliked each other, of which there could be multiple explanations for and might simply come down to hemingways misogyny and cold hearted clinging away from “feminine” showing of emotion or what he said it was, the belief fitzgerald was wasting his talent by remaining married to her/trying to get her help/remaining in their whirlwind of a relationship, but tended to look like this 👇 and was frequently very nasty

in terms of their emotional relationship I certainly think it was intense and scott seemed to value hemingway far more than he valued him (the constant references to him in something like the crack up, the tales of showing up to his house drunk in the middle of the night, the talking about him incessantly to mutual friends etc) but that being said hemingway also seemed to be fixated on scott in some sort of one-sided battle, like he was constantly trying to prove himself the better/not “like” scott ie not as feminine and, in his eyes, pathetic as scott. it seems like there was obviously something within scott that scared hemingway to death. this fixation even carries over to his writing (see: the snows of kilimanjaro, im which fitzgerald is essentially made the poster child for the weak man, a man who may as well already be dead, letting women rule his life, published shortly after fitzgerald released the crack up essays and the ensuing fall out/one of my favorite letters from fitzgerald to hemingway). the fact that fitzgerald seemed to genuinely admire women seemed to be a real sore spot between the two, especially where it concerned zelda. either way, in between their disagreements and the eventual dissolution of their relationship, there were obvious signs of real closeness in their letters

and there seems to be real deliberation in the way hemingway writes about fitzgerald in a moveable feast. like he wants to cause harm, but then also keeps pulling back, (there are a few great essays I’ve read that go into what hemingway left in vs took out of a movable feast regarding fitzgerald, I have a few posts on here that reference them) also don’t get me started on the weird probably false and just meant to make fitzgerald look bad, but nevertheless strangely homoerotic scene he writes into the book about fitzgerald showing him his dick. (It’s a whole thing, also fits right into the theme of hemingway’s need to reassure his own masculinity by using fitzgerald as a scapegoat for his own insecurities).

long story short, I think the two both had some complicated feelings for eachother, a lot things related to fitzgerald are particularly sad/telling

I would say that fitzgerald was in love with hemingway but I’m not sure he knew exactly how to process those feelings/would even admit that to himself so it’s hard to actually fully say that was the case. how hemingway felt is even harder to pin down because he was even less likely to admit something like this to himself. its clear that he almost viewed fitzgerald as a woman and simultaneously treated him in the same derogatory style he tended to reserve for women, and seemed to be interchangeably disgusted by him and as equally fixated on him and with as much admiration as fitzgerald had for him (see: his description of fitzgerald in a movable feast I think all of this comes across even in that concise paragraph). so um what am I trying to get at here.

yeah kind of.

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no-distance-left-to-run · 3 months

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Life it sucks, sucks, sucks so much

The slowest way to die-ie-ie

#todays mood #graham coxon #Spotify

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phoenixkaptain · 10 months

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There’s one part in Red Dragon that I can’t stop thinking about.

Right at the start of chapter 8, right after the chapter where Will speaks to Lecter.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter lay on his cot with the cell lights down after Graham left him. Several hours passed.

For a while he had textures; the weave of the pillowcase against his hands clasped behind his head, the smooth membrane that lined his cheek.

Then he had odors and let his mind play over them. Some were real, some were not. They had put Clorox in the drains; semen. They were serving chili down the hall; sweat-stiffened khaki. Graham would not give him his home telephone number; the bitter green smell of cut cocklebur and teaweed.”

It’s like this:

First and foremost, it’s been several hours since Will left. Will wasn’t there very long in the first place, maybe two hours if we push it, and for one of those hours he left Lecter alone.

Second, the first thing Lecter says to Will is this: “That’s the same atrocious aftershave you wore in court.”

Third, “Some were real, some were not.” The first part of the sentences following are real, the second parts are not. That’s the implication. Lecter is described only a chapter before as neat. He sorted the real and fake into two columns. What does that leave us with?

What’s real: Clorox in the drains, chili down the hall, Will Graham would not give him his home telephone number. We know these are the real scents because Will didn’t give him his home telephone number, a true statement, and it matches the columns.

(I’ve long wondered what Will not giving his home telephone number smells like.)

What’s not real: semen, sweat-stiffened khaki, cut cocklebur and teaweed.

What’s my point? Why do I bring attention to these details?

I believe the scents Lecter imagines are in reference to Will.

“Sweat-stiffened khaki.” We don’t know what Will is wearing (it would have been incredibly strange for Harris to describe what Will’s wearing, he almost never describes what anyone wears unless it’s important), but we can assume Will was sweating. From chapter 7, “He had to go to the rest room twice. He was numb.” Will is nervous throughout the encounter. Will is also, I have to tell you, the type of man to wear khaki.

“Cut cocklebur and teaweed.” I believe this is the scent of Will’s aftershave. Why do I think that? Lecter describes it as “the bitter green smell,” implying distaste. Further implying this, after he thinks of this particular scent, he sits up. He doesn’t like it. It bothers him enough to comment on it.

Also, I just can’t imagine why else he would smell cocklebur and teaweed, it’s really out of place if it doesn’t have to do with Will’s aftershave. I suppose it could just be a scent that he doesn’t like, but he pairs it directly with his main source of irritation, ie: Will would not give him his home telephone number. This implies a direct connection between the two, because both irritate him. The bitter smell and Will’s refusal.

Now, my main focus. “Semen.” When I originally read this passage, my assumption was that Lecter is making an educated guess as to why they would put Clorox in the drains. I’m not sure that’s the case. Lecter is the type of man who could smell semen underneath the Clorox, but the smell of semen is firmly in the “not real” category.

I’m just going to cut to the chase. I think Lecter is thinking about the scent of Will’s semen.

Why do I think this? Well, a few reasons. I don’t know if I believe Will actually smelled like semen upon visiting Lecter in prison. That would be a little bit… out of place? He hasn’t had sex in a while and he hasn’t masturbated. We know this. Don’t ask why, but we know this. It wouldn’t really make sense for Will to smell like semen. I mean, I could worm out an explanation for a possibility of how he could smell like semen, draft one of this text, but I won’t.

The semen smell doesn’t actually have to have been present. Just as Will’s aftershave and sweat are no longer present while Lecter is imagining them, the semen could be fabricated entirely.

I suppose my point is this. Why does Lecter imagine the smell of Will’s semen? Does it bother him? Perhaps all of these scents, real and fake, are bothersome to him, Clorox and chili included. It could irritate him. And he’s upset at Will in the first place, so it could very well be another straw on the camel’s proverbial back.

I don’t know if Will’s sweat bothers Lecter. Making Will nervous makes Lecter experience joy. He knows Will doesn’t like him, and he still sent Will a Christmas card. He likes luring people into a false sense of security and then ripping the rug out from under them. I don’t know if the scent of Will’s nerves would bother Lecter.

Okay, does he like the smell of semen then? Also debatable. I mean, he could, I suppose. Lecter is a man who eats human flesh. He’s not exactly the prime example of a person with “normal” taste. He could very well enjoy the scent, I would have no way of knowing either way.

Maybe it’s neutral. This three example case could be like this: neutral, like, dislike. Neutral to Clorox and semen. He likes sweat and chili. He dislikes Will not giving him his home telephone number and Will’s aftershave. That could be it. We know he enjoys food, even at this point, so he could very well enjoy the scent of chili. Somehow, I doubt prison chili smells as good as maybe other types, but I digress.

Why am I bringing any of this up? Good question.

I suppose, I’m just curious. Was the intention for Lecter’s obsession to be sexual? Or maybe not sexual, but romantic wouldn’t be quite the right word either. This book came out in 1981. A lot of early media depicting gay people did so exclusively by hinting at their sexuality with stereotyping. I’ve never seen someone (aside from Bryan Fuller I guess) who talked about this possible aspect of Lecter.

Lecter is described as small, lithe. He’s vain and prideful. You could say our first real introduction to Lecter is through Chilton, who states outright that Lecter knows a lot about Will. His first comment is on Will’s smell. He speaks with his head always tilted. (That one’s not stereotypically gay, I just think it’s kind of funny because whenever I write for him, I tilt my head without thinking about it) His final letter to Will ends with: “I think of you often.” He is, and I cannot stress this enough, highly invested in Will’s looks.

I just feel like, when you take into context that this was a period of time when being gay was highly frowned upon, queerness is mentioned several times throughout the book, Lecter calls him “my dear Will,” and while a cannibalistic serial killer being obsessed with you is a scary thought, wouldn’t, in the 80s, a gay cannibalistic serial killer being obsessed with you be scarier?

I know that Lecter’s characterization does change later on, in Silence of the Lambs and so forth. I’m not talking about those. Red Dragon was his first appearance. Mind you, he still rambles. But still.

I just wonder is all. A lot of people focus so much on his appearance in Silence of the Lambs, especially the movie version, but I ponder the early days, you know?

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