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charmandabear · 2 months

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Office Hours - Chapter Ten

Summary:

It's bowling time! You and the gang get a little closer over this highly unsexy game. Definitely no sexy things will happen in this chapter. No, don't look at the tags. Stop, what are you doing.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags/Warnings: thigh riding, dry humping, rough kisses, fantasies of bondage, cumming in pants, vampire bites/blood drinking, conversations about academic research, semi-public semi-sex

So I didn't actually mean to wait a week and a half between posting chapter 10 on AO3 and posting it here, but as a result, I can tell you that the un-beta'd chapter 11 is now up on my Kofi! You can read it for free, or you can wait until it's fully edited on AO3. Up to you, guy.

As always, @zipzoomzaria is responsible for the devastatingly handsome professor in the banner.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Admittedly, you kind of delight in the look on Astarion’s face as you cross the threshold into the bowling alley. His nose wrinkles while his eyes dart around the space, cataloging everything from the stained black and neon rainbow carpet, to the bored employee sitting in front of rows and rows of dirty rental shoes, to the group of noisy teengers eating nachos covered with a thick liquid cheese.

He lets out a low growl and you giggle, almost giddy at the evening ahead of you. There is absolutely no chance in hell you’ll be able to do anything even remotely sexual in this environment. You grab his hand and drag him over to the shoe rental.

“Hi, can I get a 7 ½?” you ask the employee, and they languidly pull their chin off their hand and turn around to grab the shoes. Astarion hovers behind you, still uncomfortably taking everything in. You take the shoes from the employee and drop them in front of you, stepping out of your flats and into the bowling shoes.

“Ugh, gods, I don't know why you insist on taking part in this,” he says with a sneer, well within earshot of the employee, whose eyes have already started to glaze back over. “It’s not enough to put your fingers into a grease-coated ball, you choose to play dress up with a hundred other people’s feet?”

“I mean I wouldn’t choose to, I just have to if I want to actually do the bowling part of it,” you tell him as you wiggle your ankle to get the shoe to settle.

“Sorry, what?”

You had been waiting for this moment and you try to hide your glee as you say, “Yeah, you have to rent special shoes so you don’t fuck up the floor.”

“You also have to leave your shoes with them while they’re rented,” you add, handing your flats over to the employee, who slips them in the cubby whence they retrieved your rental shoes. Astarion splutters incoherently.

“That’s it, you’ve lost me, this was a very cute idea but I am absolut–” You grab his hand as he starts storming away and pull him back towards the rental counter.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise!” You grasp his hand in both of yours, an exaggerated gesture of a pleading child. “Just do it for me, please?”

He scowls at your beaming face for a moment before rolling his eyes and approaching the counter again.

“I’ll take a 9 ½,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. The employee continues to display an almost impressive amount of apathy as they grab the requested size. Astarion makes a show of his disgust as he takes off his patent leather oxfords and puts on the grubby shoes that were presumably red and blue at one point.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth and your grin widens.

“You absolutely will not,” you tease. He stands suddenly, closer than you had realized, and looms over you.

“Would you like to test that theory?” he hums in a low voice, and your breath catches in your throat. He turns away from your reddening face with a smug sense of satisfaction as he hands his shoes to the employee. He starts to walk away when their voice interrupts him.

“Sir, you need to pay for those,” they call out halfheartedly. He turns around to you, just staring back innocently.

“Oh, I’m paying,” he confirms blankly, and you shrug.

“You’re the one with tenure, you make more than me,” you state matter-of-factly. He scowls again but doesn’t protest, and instead just taps his phone on the pin pad.

You scan the lanes to see if you can spot any of your friends. Gale sees you and waves you over to where he and Wyll are sitting together stiffly. Shadowheart and Karlach aren’t here yet.

“Hello, there,” he calls, grateful to see faces he recognizes. A paper boat of fries sits on the table between them, along with two plastic cups of water.

“Any word from Karlach?” you ask Wyll, leaning over the hard plastic bench to grab a fry.

“She apologized, she said they’d be here soon,” he replies, glancing at the text from her.

“Took them longer to get ready than they expected,” you say with a grin, and Wyll clears his throat, cheeks darkening slightly.

“Oh Tav, have you caught up with If Books?” Gale asks you, taking off his glasses to clean them with his knit sweater vest.

“Yes, I couldn’t stop listening to it,” you reply enthusiastically, “some episodes have been very illuminating.” You cast a quick glance at Astarion and he petulantly shoves his hands into his pockets and shuffles his feet. “But it’s so hard waiting for each new one,” you add, and Gale nods.

“Yes, and they’ve switched from a bimonthly schedule to a monthly schedule, so the wait is even longer,” he agrees.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Karlach’s voice booms across the lanes and Astarion mutters, “Oh thank the gods,” under his breath. Shadowheart and Karlach saunter over, Karlach double fisting pitchers of a pale amber beer. She puts them down onto the table, only one of them sloshing beer over the edge. Shadowheart narrows her eyes at Astarion, sizing him up.

“Shade, this is Astarion, Astarion, this is my best friend Shadowheart,” you awkwardly introduce them to try to cut the tension as early as possible.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Shadowheart says with disdain, looking down her nose at Astarion. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Only the best, I’m sure,” he lobs back. “Funny, I don’t think she’s mentioned you.” You shoot Astarion a dirty look as Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her bangs. You can tell that she’s unaccustomed to sparring with someone who has as much snark as her, but the verdict is still out on whether or not it’s a good thing.

Oblivious to the heated standoff behind her, Karlach types away at the console, putting in slightly wrong initials for everyone and giggling maniacally as she does. In order, the names say ASS, TAV, CAR, SAD, GIL, and WIL.

“Soldier over here’s lucky, her name is already three letters,” she laughs and winks at you. Astarion fiddles with the roll of his sleeve and looks at the ball return with apprehension.

“I suppose my ‘ass’ is first?” He hits Karlach with the look over the glasses and she throws her head back, cackling like a hyena.

“Good on ya, Cardigan, there’s a sense of humor under that mop after all.” She kicks the toe of her red and white shoe at him from where she’s sitting, but he dodges out of the way. He walks up to the ball return and shudders before he decides on one, visibly gagging as he picks it up.

“Okay you drama queen, we get it, it’s gross,” you laugh at him, “now just knock as many pins down as you can, okay?”

“That much would seem obvious,” he smirks, and walks up to the edge of the lane. He glances back at you one last time, almost as if he’s assessing if you’re really worth the humiliation, before throwing the ball down the lane. It glides towards the pins in a smooth straight line before crashing into their pyramid, knocking over all but one. He stares at the lone pin in shock as you and Karlach whoop at him.

“Hey, you might actually be good at this game after all!” you shout as he walks back to the bench, looking just a little more pleased with himself. He’s about to sit down when you stop him, saying, “No, you get two frames.” He looks back down at the end of the lane just in time to see the mechanical arm sweep away the fallen pins and leave the remaining one standing. He makes a dramatic show of sighing heavily and picks up the ball again. He approaches the lane, calculates the pathing, and throws the ball. It knocks down the last pin.

“Okay Ancunín, comin’ in hot with the spare!” Karlach laughs and he puffs his chest slightly at the compliment. “I think you might need a better nickname than Cardigan.”

“Gods please, I’ll take anything,” he begs, and you stand up to grab a ball.

“Perhaps Dr. Bowling?” Wyll pipes up, and Gale adds, “A doctorate in Bowling Studies with a concentration in spares and strikes?” Astarion’s scowl is icy, but even you can tell he’s having fun.

“I’ve spoken too quickly,” he says, gritting his teeth.

You find that the six of you get along quite well. The conversation is easy and light as you cycle through your turns, laughs flowing between you as freely as the terrible watery beer.

You take a gulp from your plastic cup, your legs draped over Astarion’s lap as Gale takes his turn. Astarion scoffs at the smell.

“Nine hells, how can you possibly drink that piss?” He turns his face away from the yellowish liquid.

“I don’t know, I have low standards for myself?” you answer with a shrug.

Shadowheart lets out a high pitch giggle. “Clearly, considering you’re dating him,” she snickers, and Astarion fixes her with a playfully snide look.

“Big talk coming from someone who needs aloe vera after a romantic evening,” he retorts with pursed lips. Shadowheart tries to suppress a smile – talking shit is her love language.

“At least she and I agree to it prior,” she says coolly, and Astarion goes even paler than usual. He shoots you a nervous glance, a sort of are we allowed to joke about that? But you laugh and take another sip of your beer, surreptitiously rubbing the back of his hand resting on your knee in assurance.

You’re enjoying watching Shadowheart and Karlach navigate the awkward early stages of the relationship. Shadowheart has her hands clasped around her knee, bent in front of her as her foot rests on the plastic bench. Karlach’s arm is draped across the back of the bench, leaving enough plausible deniability as to whether or not her arm is actually around Shadowheart. You suspect by the end of the evening, it’ll be less ambiguous.

“So tell me, Gale,” Wyll asks as Gale waits by the ball return. “I’ve never met a wizard with a PhD, what was your research in?”

“I’m so glad you asked, because I think you in particular would find use of it,” he responds enthusiastically. “It was in ethical uses of high powered spells. There’s a stigma around mortals chasing too much power, but I feel very strongly that some spells simply have no downside.”

Astarion quirks an eyebrow, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who’s power hungry, Dekarios,” he says with a smirk, and Gale emphatically shakes his head.

“No, the power isn’t for me, it’s for– well, hold on.” He quickly grabs his ball from the return and throws it down the lane. It hits the gutter within seconds.

“Too bad!” Karlach calls, her arm slipping ever so slightly around Shadowheart’s shoulders a bit more.

“It’s fine. Anyway.” Gale is quick to return to the benches, excited to talk about his research. “I strongly feel that Globe of Invulnerability, Heal, and Heroes’ Feast simply have no downside. We should implement systems in which they can be used for the greater good.”

“Fascinating. Do doctors not already use Heal in hospitals?” Wyll muses, then turns to Shadowheart as he stands to take his turn. “Shadowheart, you’re a cleric of Selûne, you must use Heal all the time.”

Shadowheart shakes her head. “We’re not permitted to use anything more powerful than Mass Cure Wounds, and even then it’s only in the most dire situations, like war zones. I don’t even know how to perform it.”

“See, this is precisely what I’m saying! Imagine all the good that we could do if there were more medical professionals who knew Mass Cure Wounds and Heal.” Gale gesticulates wildly with his almost empty cup of beer.

“Heroes’ Feast could end world hunger in a matter of minutes!” Wyll nearly shouts from the lane right before he bowls his second frame, almost as excited as Gale.

“Yes!” Gale returns the excitement and then downs the last sip of his beer. “In fact, I think many of these high level spells are outlawed in some countries without even considering how they might impact our society.”

“Hey Ass, you’re up,” Wyll calls, heading back to the bench.

“Darling, could you move your legs?” he asks you, his tone saccharine. You make a show of deliberating, holding your finger to your chin.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure. Wyll, who’s winning right now?” you call out to him and he speaks through the fry in his mouth.

“Ashtarion,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I don’t think I will move,” you smirk obstinately, pushing your calves down into his lap. He raises his eyebrows at your challenge, peering at you over his glasses. He grabs your ankles and sharply turns you in your seat, his rough handling sending a subtle jolt through your core.

“Don’t pick a fight you can’t win, love,” he hums, his lips barely brushing against yours. He stands and turns towards the lane, leaving you slightly breathless. Karlach and Shadowheart titter at your dazed expression, the distance between them having all but disappeared.

Astarion gets yet another strike, and you briefly wonder how this English academic got so dexterous before remembering the feel of his long smooth fingers working inside you. You blink several times to banish the needlessly dirty thought as he turns around with an insufferably pompous look on his face, his newly discovered talent feeding his already overinflated ego. You try to play it cool as you stand and walk toward the ball return, but he blocks your body with his. You look up at him and he runs his knuckle up the front of your throat, stopping it right under your chin.

“Don’t choke,” he purrs and you press your lips together tightly to prevent an embarrassing noise from escaping. You shake your hair over your ears to cover how red they’ve become, but you’re certain your cheeks still give you away. You grab a ball and throw it down the lane, hardly aware of how many pins it knocks down. You stare into the ball return with glazed eyes as you watch your pink ball slide out of its mouth. You grab it, barely registering the shouts of encouragement from the others, and throw it down the lane as quickly as you can. You turn around before seeing the outcome of the frame, your mind occupied by one solitary thought.

“Excuse me, I’m going to run to the restroom,” you mumble, wrapping around behind the plastic benches as Karlach stands to take her turn. As discreetly as possible, you run your fingers across Astarion’s shoulders as you pass behind him. If you’re lucky, he’ll get the hint. If not… well, you need to take a breather anyway.

You duck into the hallway branching off the main lanes and settle yourself behind an ancient payphone. You have no idea if it’s meant to be kitschy and retro or simply a relic of a bygone era. You take a deep breath as you try to clear your head.

It didn't take long for Astarion to swing around the corner, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you up against the wood-paneled wall. His lips are hard on yours and his fingers tangle in your hair – a roughness you’re all too happy to accept. You grasp at his lower waist, pulling his body further into yours. Your lips pop open as a small moan escapes when his knee slides up between your legs, pressing against your already aching mound.

“I thought this was meant to dampen our appetites,” he murmurs through breathless kisses. You clutch the back of his head as you grind down wantonly on his thigh.

“It’s not my fault you get fucking hot when you’re competitive, ah–” you swallow the moan as he slides his chilled hands up the back of your shirt, pressing into the dip just above your ass.

“I take it you like seeing me win?” You can feel his lips smiling against your earlobe, and you let out a small squeak when he gives it a gentle nip.

“I like seeing you cocky,” you groan, desperately chasing the friction that his thigh provides. He chuckles and pushes his leg up further into you, causing you to grunt through your teeth and pull on his hair as you try to keep the obscene noises that he’s tearing from you under control.

“Tell me how else you like me,” he rasps, and you can feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

“I like it when you’re domineering,” your voice cracks as you continue to roll your hips against him. “I like when you tell me what to do. I like it when you’re just a little mean but even more when you tell me I’m a good girl.”

His hips buck against you and you shift on top of his leg, trying to relieve your own throbbing cunt while rubbing your leg against the bulge in his pants. His lips are still on your ear and he lets out a hissing breath when you lightly brush against his cock.

“You are my good girl, don’t stop.” His breath is cool against your skin and he runs the tip of his tongue along the shell of your ear, pulling a deep shudder from you. You can already feel how wet he’s made you, and if he keeps this up you might just come undone.

“I want you to put your hand around my throat when you fuck me,” you whine, your slick folds sliding against each other as he grinds his thigh into you. “I want you to put me in a collar and hold the leash tight and tell me I’m yours.” The fantasy is pouring out of you at this point. You’re hardly aware of your surroundings, all that matters is you and Astarion.

You can tell your words are affecting him, too. The rutting of his hips grow frantic and you tighten your hand in his hair and you can feel that familiar spiraling heat blooming out from your core.

“Gods, Astarion, I’m–” you mewl, fully riding his leg at this point. “Please bite me, I want you to bite me, I’m begging–” The moment his fangs sink into your flesh you come, your hand pressed tight over your mouth to muffle the sound, your hips stuttering with each rippling wave of pleasure. As he takes long dragging sips of your blood he makes barely audible whimpers into your neck, his hips still thrusting into your thigh. You bring your hands to his ear, gently pinching his velvety lobe between your fingers.

“Fuck, come for me Astarion,” you whisper into his hair, and it’s enough. He inhales sharply through his nose, teeth still latched onto your neck, and the rest of him stills, save a few subtle jerks of his hips as he spills inside his pants. You let out a breathy chuckle as you card your fingers through his hair affectionately. He pulls away from your neck and you’re blessed with one of your favorite sights – his lips slightly bloody, his eyes wild and frenzied, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You kiss him, lapping up the metallic droplets from his lips, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“I do so love it when you do that, you know,” he sighs, and you stifle a giggle.

“Make you come in your pants?” you tease.

“No– well, yes, I mean– I mean no!” he stammers, uncharacteristically flustered, and you hum with approval. “No, when you kiss me just after I’ve fed on you. It makes me feel… closer to you, I suppose.”

“Plus I bet it’s, like, really sexy,” you joke, skating over his sincerity, afraid of what you might accidentally say in response. You’re so not ready to write a check that you can’t cash.

“Yes, it is,” he murmurs and kisses you again, unphased by your deflection.

As though an impenetrable barrier had been lifted, someone rounds the corner to head to the bathroom and the two of you straighten up like you didn’t just dry hump like a couple of horny teenagers. You try to tidy your appearances, but there’s no accounting for the noticeable stain on the front of Astarion’s pants. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up onto his forehead.

“I can’t believe you… ugh. I can’t be seen by the others like this.” He sighs deeply, the consequences of both of your actions finally catching up to him. You bite your lip guiltily, then suddenly gasp, recalling the machine you’ve seen in hundreds of restrooms throughout your life but never had any use for.

“Do you have a quarter?” you ask him frantically, and he stares at you, completely flummoxed.

“No, who carries cash anymore? What, why do–” You’re gone before he can finish his sentence, dashing around the corner to find Shadowheart. Karlach sees you first, and her face lights up as she waves her whole arm at you.

“Hey, we were just about to send out a search party,” she laughs as you round the corner of the benches.

“Itoldthemnotto,” Gale adds quickly, and you appreciate that he learned his lesson from last time. Shadowheart strides up to you and grabs your chin, pulling it to the side to expose your neck.

“Ugh, Tav, you shouldn’t drive when you’re like this,” she groans. “Te absolvo.” She flicks your forehead as she casts the spell and you flinch before a sheepish grin slides onto your face.

“Hey, where’s Astarion?” Karlach asks, making like she’s going to head towards the bathrooms to look for him. You grab her arm before she can get too far.

“No no, don’t worry about that,” you speak frenetically, “Does anyone have a quarter?”

“Who even carries cash anymore?” Karlach asks with a bemused face, but Shadowheart glowers at you.

“Why, what do you need it for?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, and she rolls her eyes. She grabs her purse and pulls out a sleek black leather wallet embossed with a crescent moon. “I only have ones,” she says, and you yank the bill out of her hand.

“That’s fine thanks love you be right back.” You take off with her dollar and make a beeline for the change machine near the arcade. After several attempts to flatten the bill enough for the machine to accept it, you hear four clangs as the quarters drop into the metal tray. You quickly scoop them out and run back to the hallway outside the bathrooms where poor Astarion is pretending to talk on the payphone.

“Where in the sweet hells did you go?” he hisses, and you finally get a good look at his appearance. His hair is still slightly disheveled, and he’s untucked his shirt to let it hang over the wet spot on the front of his trousers. You don’t answer him, but rather grab his wrist and duck into the women’s restroom that is, thankfully, empty.

You turn to the metal machine hanging off the wall that dispenses three invaluable items for a bowling alley bathroom: tampons, condoms, and scrolls of prestidigitation. You drop a quarter into the slot above the third item, crank the knob, and out falls a tightly rolled scroll.

“They’re usually for mothers to clean up after they’re done changing their baby’s diaper,” you say, nodding your head towards the plastic baby changing station. “But clearly they have other uses. Infame.” You recite the spell’s incantation and the scroll vanishes along with the stain on Astarion’s pants. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the Gods.” He unbuckles his belt and begins to tuck his shirt back into his pants. “You owe me,” he adds wryly.

“Um excuse me, who just traipsed all over just to hunt down a goddamn quarter so you could clean up after yourself?” you pout and he slides his hands around your waist.

“But who’s responsible for getting me into this mess in the first place?” he hums in a low voice, brushing his lips against yours. You’re about to melt into his kiss when suddenly the door to the restroom opens and a bewildered looking halfling walks in. You and Astarion spring apart and he quickly redoes his belt buckle. You embarrassedly shuffle out the door without a word.

The two of you reemerge to see all of your friends waiting impatiently by the shoe rental. Your and Astarion’s shoes have already been removed from their cubbies and the employee is just waiting for you to return the bowling shoes. The two of you jog over, and Shadowheart rolls her eyes as you approach.

“Fucking degenerates,” she mutters under her breath, grabbing Karlach’s hand and storming out the door.

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hillbillyoracle · 11 months

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Androgynous/Masc Leaning Capsule Wardrobe Ideas

In honor of International Nonbinary People’s Day, I offer you the clothing advice I wish I had like 15 years ago. I prefer a small well curated wardrobe but it is so tough to pull that off as a nonbinary genderfluid person. I spent years struggling to make my capsule wardrobe work for me. Every example I saw was either with feminine clothes or with the world blandest men’s clothing.

For reference, I’m AFAB and live in Kentucky - very hot and muggy in summers, can get quite cold (-20 F) in winter but it’s usually mild with highs are in the 30F-40F range most days. This is the advice I’d give my younger self if I could.

Focus on 10-15 Core Items

While I am fluid, I consistently spend most of my time “inbetween” these days. Having a neutral to masc learning main wardrobe with some feminine items to mix in wound up working best for me. So here’s the masc leaning base wardrobe I recommend.

~3 x Button Ups - I went with short sleeve Hawaiian shirts for myself because I love bold patterns. You can find a lot of Hawaiian shirt these days that don’t have stereotypical “island” patterns on them while still being pretty light and breathable in summer. If your style leans more classic, consider oxford cloth button ups. You might need more button ups if you work in a business casual setting.

~3 x Tees - I like graphic tees, specifically hand screen printed ones so that’s what I go with. But if your style is more classic then consider investing in some good quality solid color tees.

~3 x Casual Tops - for me this is a tank top, turtleneck, and a Henley. But you might consider a collarless button ups, plain long sleeve shirts, and ringer style long sleeve shirts.

~3 Pants - for me, I have black and stone washed denim since those are my favorites. I look for tapered fits over skinny or boot leg where I can. I have one pair that’s a jogger style I quite like. You might look for chinos or khakis if you have a more formal dress code at work but they’ll still work with graphic tees and other tops if you style them right.

~3 x Layers - for me this is a cardigan, a flannel, and a hoodie. You might consider v neck or crew neck sweaters, cable knit sweaters, and fair isle sweaters as well.

Feminine Clothing Module

What’s nice about this approach is that you can then create a feminine clothing module that plays nicely with your main wardrobe.

For me this looks like

1-2 Dresses - I have a maxi tee dress and a long sleeved linen dress since that works more for everyday wear for me.

1-2 Skirts - I don’t have any presently but the next big feminine swing I have I’ll be ordering a nice linen skirt in my favorite color.

1-2 Casual Tops - I don’t have any presently after my last big wardrobe edit but business casual shell tops, camisoles, and cowl neck tops work well here.

1-2 Layers - I have a linen blazer in a women’s cut and a long striped duster. You might consider a kimono style shrug/wraps, sweaters in a more feminine cut, and women’s cardigans

You don’t need a lot here because so much of the main wardrobe can be mixed with a feminine element or two and it becomes much more feminine - especially if you’re AFAB but even if you’re AMAB. It doesn’t take a lot a feminine clothing to make an over all outfit look more feminine and subtle touches work just as well as more overt styles ime.

Sizing

Sizing is tricky as hell. I’m plus size (size 18-20 in women’s pants) and especially trying to find masculine stuff with the right fit is a pain. I really recommend going in to try things on if you’re able but if not get comfortable with the idea you will likely need to send things back. Yes you can take measurements but those measurements are still listed with different proportions in mind.

For men’s clothes I lean toward a slightly oversized fit - as most men I’m around do. For women’s clothes, I lean toward a slightly tight fit - as most women I’m around do. Look at the people around you and see which fits they lean toward and opt for that where you’re able to for yourself.

Shoes, Outwear, Special Occasions

Shoes - I tend to opt to go neutral in my shoes and outerwear. Not in color or pattern mind you but gender. For shoes, I currently have 3 pairs - a pair of crocs (with spikes), running shoes/sneakers (old Champion brand slip ons), and a pair of Doc Martens. These are good options if you’re AMAB too because the sizing is unisex or available in similar styles for men and women. Other good options are Vans, Chucks, any hippie sandal brand you can think of. “Nicer” shoes are great but often pretty gendered. I lean toward getting “nicer shoes” that are opposite my assigned gender when I do grab them.

Outerwear - I also tend to opt for gender neutral options for outerwear too. Since it doesn’t get terribly cold here, I stick to a micropuff jacket from North Face and layer a black denim jacket over it when it gets cold. When I wear it with masc stuff, blends in. When I wear it with feminine stuff, it adds a slight edge I like. Pea coats are decent options as well. If you live some place real cold, a lot of the long winter coats are basically the same between genders, just different fits.

Special Occasions - I would recommend not worrying about special occasions until or unless they come up. I have the same two “special occasion” dresses that I’ve been using for years because they come up so rarely and I can’t bare to spend too much money on something I’ll wear maybe once or twice a year. Formal wear is highly gendered and if you learn androgynous it’s a tough needle to thread. For those events with hosts you know, it’s worth reaching out to them to see what they think makes an outfit “formal” - could be nicer cuts or materials, could be rigid gender norms - can’t know until you ask.

For most special occasions, I do not know the host, so I default very structured looks in accordance with my assigned gender. Still feels a bit edgy but no ones gonna have the guts to say it’s wrong. For AMAB folks you might do the inverse, more flowy looks and colors while still adhering to your assigned gender. All depends on the level of familiarity you have with the hosts and the flack you’re willing to catch.

Outfits

Some masc leaning outfit ideas:

button up, hoodie, pants, boots

graphic tee, flannel or cardigan, pants, sneakers

turtleneck, pants, boat shoes

button up, tie, cardigan, pants, chelsea boots

Some fem leaning outfit ideas:

button up, cardigan, skirt, sneakers

shell top, wrap, pants, sandals

graphic tee, skirt, sneakers

dress, sandals

Conclusion

Hope this was helpful to someone out there!

#nonbinary #androgynous #nonbinary fashion #international nonbinary people's day #genderfluid #genderfluid fashion

187 notes · View notes

sparklepocalypse · 5 months

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Thanks for the tag, @kiwiana-writes! I swear I meant to do this earlier than, y'know, today, but uh. (gestures at Mother Nature)

The tag... she is open. Do your thing, if you want!

Writing Round-Up: there are no rules, but the general idea is this: give a summary of everything you published in the calendar year.

I basically had to summarize my summaries here. Do you know how much I hate writing summaries? Do you? I always use a quote from my fic as the summary for a reason. 😂

January

Nothin'.

February

Nada.

March

Zilch.

April

Still no.

May

What, you thought there'd be something here?

June

You probably know the answer to this one.

July

No.

August

I watched the RWRB movie, after having read the book a year or more before. Things began to mentally percolate.

September

I read literally every completed RWRB fic rated E or M on AO3... and then remembered Kinktober was a thing, and, for the first time in a dozen years...

October

OCT 1 | Temperature's Up, 'Bout to Erupt | E | 1,249 words Kinktober day 1: leather; expanded take on the movieverse polo scene.

OCT 2 | My Lips, They are Yours and Not Mine | E | 2,529 words Kinktober day 2: roleplay; Henry's always wanted to roleplay as a brooding regency gentleman whose lover has returned from the war.

OCT 3 | One Breath, It'll Just Break It | E | 3,581 words Kinktober day 3: hate sex; AU in which Alex is legal counsel for the Okonjo Foundation and Henry is a former prince and the foundation's biggest benefactor.

OCT 4 | Take it Down Low / Make Me Get High | E | 2,092 words Kinktober day 4: rimming; Alex eats Henry's ass until Henry cries. That's it; that's the fic. (This eventually became part 2 of a trifecta of filth that I named The Key to My Body.)

OCT 5 | When the Heat is On | E | 4,057 words Kinktober day 5: sweat; Henry whisks Alex away to a Finnish cabin for ice skating, saunas, and lovemaking.

OCT 6 | Take a Trip Into My Garden | E | 3,308 words Kinktober day 6: sex pollen; Henry's family has a Viagra orchid in their conservatory. Alex touches it. (This eventually became part 1 of my series, Bloom.)

OCT 7 | Got So Much to Show Ya | M | 1,150 words A coda to "Take a Trip Into My Garden"; the morning after. (Part 2 of Bloom.)

OCT 7 | In The Low Lamp Light, I Was Free | E | 3,156 words Kinktober day 7: virginity; there were two condom wrappers on the floor in the Paris scene of the movie; my take on what happened with the second one.

OCT 8 | What's Symbiotic Will Always Be | E | 2,622 words Kinktober day 8: breeding; three times Henry didn't ask Alex to fuck him raw, and one time he did.

OCT 9 | Down On My Knees; Wanna Take You There | E | 7,787 words Kinktober day 9: glory hole; AU in which Alex is a Ren Faire knight and Henry is the Ren Faire king, and there's a glory hole in the changing rooms.

OCT 10 | Give Me Your Confession | E | 2,055 words Kinktober day 10: fucking machines; Alex finds a photo of Henry in leather pants and gets all subby about it.

OCT 11 | I Want to Be Every Button You Press | E | 3,717 words Kinktober day 11: mirror sex; there were smudges on the mirror in the DNC hotel scene in the movie. (Part 1 of The Key to My Body.)

OCT 12 | Don't Overthink When You Could Be Lovin' Me | E | 2,110 words Kinktober day 12: costumes; sometime post-canon, Alex and Henry are invited to Heidi Klum's annual Halloween party. Alex brings two costumes; one of them is Xerxes from 300.

OCT 13 | You're So Attractive; How Did That Happen | E | 1,987 words Kinktober day 13: size difference; three things about Alex that make Henry feel wonderfully small, and one thing that doesn't.

OCT 14 | What I Need Tonight | E | 3,514 words Kinktober day 14: selfcest; a temporal folding M/M/M AU in which young Henry, in the midst of his Oxford slut phase, shows up in the bathroom of post-canon Henry's bedroom when Alex is visiting.

OCT 15 | Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) | E | 8,782 words Kinktober day 15: identity porn; what if Cakegate doesn't happen because Alex, pissy about being snubbed by Henry in the receiving line, gets drunk and goes on Grindr instead?

OCT 16 | Tug On My Shirt Now, I Can't Speak | E | 1,177 words Kinktboer day 16: public sex; Alex and Henry are stuck in traffic en route to an event. Alex helps Henry get over some anxiety with his lack of a gag reflex. That’s it. That’s the fic.

OCT 17 | Blame My Poor Romantic Mind for the Mess We Made | E | 1,570 words Kinktober day 17: body calligraphy; Henry writes homoerotic poetry on Alex's skin and then tops him.

OCT 18 | Side Effects of Wanting You Kick In | E | 2,613 words Kinktober day 18: spanking; Alex and Henry spend the Fourth of July at the lake house. A horsefly precipitates the discovery of a new kink.

OCT 19 | Can't Hide It, My Face Says What's Inside | E | 1,744 words Kinktober day 19: uniforms; the one in which Alex wears a French maid uniform and Henry loses his goddamn mind.

OCT 20 | Don't Want to Worry 'Bout Whatever | E | 2,280 words Kinktober day 20: foodplay; a follow-up to "Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully)" in which Henry and Alex remember the bucket of cake.

OCT 20 | When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) | T | 2,933 words A RWRB take on The Frog Prince. Henry flees to the countryside after he's forced to fake-date yet another woman, and meets a frog who's more than he appears.

OCT 21 | If We're Caught in a Wave (I Will Carry You Over) | E | 5,944 words Kinktober day 21: tentacles; Alex rents a remote beach house where he meets Henry, who is a cecaelia.

OCT 22 | How You Want to See All the Depths of Me | E | 1,458 words Kinktober day 22: intercrural sex | bondage; Henry gives Alex an ancient history lesson.

OCT 23 | Soft Shock, Put a Spring in My Step | E | 2,403 words Kinktober day 23: facesitting; Henry eats Alex's ass until Alex incoherently proposes a little. (Part 3 of The Key to My Body.)

OCT 24 | Just Let the Night Go Down | E | 2,254 words Kinktober day 24: oviposition; Alex buys an eggpreg toy on a whim after reading some dirty Star Wars fic, as one does.

OCT 25 | Running on the Music and Night Highs | E | 2,020 words Kinktober day 25: anonymous sex; the night before the Melbourne Climate Conference, Alex goes to an invitation-only club to blow off steam.

OCT 26 | This is Holy Ground (The Flesh I'm Made Of) | E | 3,491 words Kinktober day 26: divinity kink; deities are real and tangible, and Henry seeks one out in his hour of need.

OCT 29 | The Fountains and the Waters | E | 3,197 words Kinktober day 27: trapped in a tight space; the supply closet scene retold in the Bloom universe.

OCT 30 | You'll be Glowing, Chasing Shadows Away | E | 3,350 words Kinktober day 28: cock bulge; five times Alex tries something he's seen on the internet, and one time he involves Henry.

OCT 31 | So Hard to Put You Into Words | E | 1,453 words Kinktober day 29: vanilla sex; an interlude after everyone's favorite unscripted movie scene in Kensington Palace.

November

NOV 3 | Slide, Crawl into the Shades of Light | E | 4,851 words Kinktober day 30: overstimulation; Alex and Henry are doing the transcontinental couple life thing, and Henry's had a shit week. Alex gives him several orgasms about it.

NOV 8 | Back, Bring it Back | E | 1,289 words A soulmate AU futurefic that pivots away from canon after Alex storms the castle. (Written for the prompt soulmates + exes + "you confuse me.")

NOV 19 | On My Mind (Let's Go) | E | 10,751 words A movieverse New Year's Eve fix-it in which Henry gets his damn kiss. And then some.

NOV 24 | I'd Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You | E | 2,310 words Henry wears Alex's clothes at the lake house. Alex acts accordingly.

December

DEC 3 | So I Will Weather the Storm | E | 9,804 words Canon divergence in which Cakegate happens, but Henry is in the RAF so the PR campaign does not happen. Some months later, Alex does something dumb on a mountain in Scotland.

DEC 10 | Sip You Like Cosmic Juice | E | 3,122 words What if everything's the same, except Henry's sport of choice is rugby? Heavily inspired by fanart.

DEC 25 | Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | E | 30,810 words Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one. A partially epistolary slow-burn love story ranging seventeen years.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #alex x henry #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #my fic #rwrb #rwrb movie #honestly i was giggling aloud while i was setting up january through september in this post

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mtahooligans · 6 months

Text

Nem jó, ha már a G7 is fideszes-arabos szemmel nézi a tudományt

Megjelent ma egy cikk a G7-en, amiben arról van szó, hogy downhillen a magyar tudomány teljesítménye. Fogalmam sincs, hogy azon van-e, de hogy nem amiatt, amit a cikk ír, az tuti.

A cikk a SCImago adataira hivatkozik és hát innentől sajnos nem tud a dolog jó lenni. Itt van, hogy milyen módszertannal dolgozik a Scimago, amikor intézményeket hasonlít össze. Research, innovation, societal a három nagy kategória. Vannak tudományok, amelyek némileg hátrányból indulnak: matekos képleteket, algoritmusokat pl nem lehet levédetni az EU-ban, így innovatívnak nehéz lenni, hacsak nem működsz közre más területeken. A research kategória 50%-ot ad bele, de ebből csak 13% olyan, ami size-independent, vagyis a tudományos teljesítmény mérésekor az eredmény 3/4-ét olyan dolgok adják, amik mennyiségiek, azaz, ha többen vagytok, simán veritek a kisebb, de sokkal jobb intézményeket.

Itt a magyar matekos rangsor:

onnantól, hogy az MTA külön szerepel, az egészen már tényleg csak röhögni lehet. az elnök-fötitkár-fötitkhelyettes hármason kívül senki se MTA (mondjuk 2014 és 2020 között Lovásszal még ez is elég menő volt).

hetediknek sikerült minket rangsorolni. és akkor mutatok egy képet:

ők a rényis ERC-nyertesek (+Lovász, aki az ELTE-n nyert ERC-t, de már a Rényibe Synergy-t, ami egy ilyen kiemelt ERC, nem olyan régóta van, és valamiért nem minden táblázatban van egyben).

szóval az ERC az olyan, hogy nem életműdíj, hanem hogy eddig nagyon jó voltál, még mindig aktív vagy, jól pályáztál, akkor adunk nagyon sok pénzt (EU-s szemmel is, nemcsak magyarral). ebből matekosat 13-at nyert Magyarország eddig, ebből 10-et a Rényi (+Lovász Synergyje) és egyet Lovász még ELTE-sként. mire jó ez a "kibővített" EU-ban? itt a link az ERC oldalához.

veri a Rényit:

Cambridge, Oxford, Warwick (UK)

ETH (Svájc)

Héber Egyetem, Tel-Aviv, Weizman Intézet (Izrael)

CNRS - ez kicsit csalás, mert a teljes francia kutatóhálózat matekos részlege egyben szerepel, de hát mindegy.

és kész. vannak 8-cal, 9-cel, nem sokkal mögöttünk, de jobb csak ennyi.

Szóval fontos dolog mérni a tudományos teljesítményt, de a tök mindegy hogy mit csinálsz, csak legyen sok, és vonj egybe mindent, vegyél meg neves kutatókat, akik oda se jönnek az országodba, de ráírják az egytemedet a cikkeikre. Amikor a fidesz a Nobel-díj hatására a Krausz intézetét áttette a Semmelweiss-re, hogy az majd hátha benyomja bizonyos listákon az első százba, na az kb ez. ettől biztos nem lesz senkinek jobb, de majd lehet virítani egy semmit nem mondó számot.

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totowlff · 1 year

Text

chapter twelve — like susan and lucy

➝ with the pregnancy progressing healthily, cassie decides it's time to tell one of her most trusted people about the baby. unfortunately, she wasn't alone.

➝ word count: 4,8k

➝ warnings: none

10 WEEKS

Your womb is now about the size of an orange. You may find your clothes are tighter and your stomach may be sticking out, but this can be due to changes in your bowel activity rather than your pregnancy.

It was the perfect early summer day as Cassie drove down the M40 from Oxford to London. It seemed like there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, which felt like a rare treat for the UK.

She’d felt a bit hesitant to go to London on one of the few weekends when Toto wouldn’t be at a race until the summer shutdown, but she felt like it was important to maintain her own schedule while she still could, before the latter stages of the pregnancy when she likely wouldn’t want to go anywhere, and before all of her time and energy would be devoted to caring for her child. The child she was having with Toto.

“I don’t want to smother him”, Cassie thought to herself, shaking her head, like the physical action of doing so would reorder her scattered thoughts. “We’re not together, not really. But, it’s like all I want to do is spend time with him”.

In an effort to distract herself from the urge to drive over to Bedwells Heath and spend the weekend with Toto, probably talking about the things they needed to buy for the baby, she’d called her sister, Helena, to see if she could pay her a visit.

Plus, she hadn’t told Helena about the baby yet, and desperately wanted to tell someone, and Helena was all too happy to have her over.

— Jack is going to be gone all weekend, he’s going to Zurich on business. It’ll just be me and Tommy, and we definitely need to catch up.

Tommy was Cassie’s four-year old nephew, Icarus, but his parents addressed him by his middle name, Thomas, and usually called him Tommy. Helena had chosen his name in line with the family’s tradition of using names from classical literature, but after the boy was born, she and Jack had a long discussion about his nickname possibly being “Icky”, which might make the poor boy’s life difficult in school.

“I’m not sure why they didn’t think of that beforehand”, Cassie remembered thinking, shortly after they’d decided on his name.

As she drove past a field full of grazing sheep, her mind drifted back to two days ago, when she and Toto met for their regular chat over coffee at the factory. In Cassie’s case, she’d begrudgingly made the switch to non-caffeinated herbal tea.

It had been almost a month since Cassie found out that she was expecting, and she and Toto were the only people that knew — aside from Cassie’s doctor and the Mercedes board chairman Ola Källenius, who Toto couldn’t resist telling during one of Ola’s visits to Brackley because Toto was too excited to contain himself.

She was fit to burst with excitement and wanted to tell everyone she saw, but she felt like she needed to wait a bit longer because she was nervous about telling anyone. She knew it was normal to wait until the end of the first trimester for most women to disclose the news, but it was all Cassie wanted to talk about and it was taking a great deal of restraint to not say anything yet.

“But if I say anything and something happens”, she thought. She felt like she would jinx it if she told someone too early.

— Are you okay? — Toto asked her, causing Cassie to snap out of her thoughts. He had been talking about his upcoming trip to Baku for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, and Cassie must have let her mind wander again. It seemed to be happening quite a bit, but her doctor told her to expect some brain fog in the first trimester.

— Hm? Oh, yes, just thinking.

— What were you thinking about? — Toto asked.

— Just about how I haven’t told anyone about, uh, the news yet. It’s almost all I can think about, but you’re the only one I can talk to about it.

— Ah, I feel the same way. It was hell at the race in Montreal last week, all of the reporters asking questions about Lewis beating Ayrton’s number of poles, but all I wanted to talk about was — he dropped his voice and leaned in a bit — The fact that I will be a father soon.

— I mean, at least you got to tell someone — Cassie teased. She’d been a little miffed when she found out that Toto had told the man who was, more or less, his boss, but she couldn’t be too upset about the gifts Ola had sent them — Who am I even going to tell? Victoria?

— No, but you could tell… Er, what about your aunt? What was her name — Toto combed his fingers nervously through his hair as he tried to remember — Uh, don’t tell me… Not Sylvia, right?

— Sybil? — Cassie said, incredulous. She laughed a little, and shook her head in disbelief — God, no. I love the woman dearly, she’s been more of a mother to me than my own mother, but the problem is that she’s an incorrigible gossip, and if she finds out, everyone in West Sussex will know, including my actual mother. But, I could tell my sister, I suppose. We’ve always been close, which I consider to be nothing short of a miracle. We were like Susan and Lucy growing up… You know, from the Chronicles of Narnia?

She noticed the way Toto’s facial expression turned confused.

— I… Actually haven’t read that book, I don’t think. I will take your word for it. You have a sister and a brother, right? — Toto asked, taking the last drink of his coffee.

— Yes, that’s right. My brother is named Jason. We are… Not close, not really. He’s had… Um, the same mindset as my father, about, well, everything. The problem is that Jason’s wife is a lovely woman, and she likes me, and his three daughters, my nieces, adore me, which I think annoys him a bit, like he’s afraid I’ll corrupt them, or something — Cassie giggled.

— Family is certainly complicated — Toto said, nodding sagely. He glanced at his watch, and then said — I have to get back to my office, I have a meeting with… Someone, but I can’t remember who. I guess I’ll find out when I get upstairs.

He shrugged, and smiled as he stood up from his chair, offering Cassie his hand to help her stand up, despite her having no difficulty doing so on her own.

— But remind me to tell you about my mother and her sister, my aunt, sometime, you will probably relate — he added, before saying goodbye and going back to his office.

Cassie watched carefully for the exit for Great West Road she needed to take, as she always seemed to miss it because of traffic around Heathrow. Sometimes she didn’t notice she’d missed her exit until she crossed the Thames, meaning she’d gone too far south.

She made it to Pimlico without incident, and admired the seemingly endless rows of grand white townhouses that lined the streets. It was a gorgeous day. The sky was bright blue, and the smogs of summer hadn’t started yet. Cassie took her time walking to her sister’s building, taking it all in. It was a charming neighborhood, and she could see why her sister and her husband decided to settle here, but at the same time, she was happy that she and Toto didn’t live in London instead. Oxford was a large enough city for her tastes, and she liked being somewhere that wasn’t constantly congested with people.

She rang her sister’s doorbell when she arrived at the correct building, and a few moments later, the smiling face of a four year old boy appeared in the glass.

— Auntie! — the boy squealed, as he pulled the wooden door open.

— Tommy! — Cassie said, kneeling down to give the boy a hug and a kiss — You’re getting so big!

A moment later, her sister appeared in the doorway.

— Cassie! — she said, pulling Cassie into a hug and giving Cassie a customary, but still fond, kiss on the cheek in greeting — So good of you to come. Come in, come in, I’ve made tea already.

Cassie took a moment to take her shoes off in the doorway, as listening as Tommy chattered away about how he had watched Lewis’ last race and how he told one of his friends at preschool about how his auntie worked with Lewis Hamilton. Cassie didn’t have the heart to tell him that she only worked with the drivers on rare occasions, as she didn’t travel to the races, but Lewis was kind enough and invested enough attention in the staff at both Brackley and Brixworth that didn’t travel to races that he’d given Cassie a few items he’d signed, specifically to give to her nephew, like a cap and a miniature replica helmet.

Cassie followed her sister into the townhouse’s drawing room, where afternoon tea was set out. Cassie was relieved to see that her sister didn’t go to the trouble of using her nice china just for her. She was using a modest, everyday set, that was a shade of gray that matched perfectly with the townhome’s modern, monochrome decor. Her sister had set out some biscuits and the standard cucumber tea sandwiches. Cassie smiled as she sat down and watched her sister pour her son some milk with a small splash of tea, and offered her some. — Milk and two sugars, still?

— Ah… Yes — Cassie said, accepting the proffered cup. She didn’t start drinking it right away, opting to take a biscuit first. As she took a bit of it, Cassie took a moment to look at her sister and her nephew, wondering what sort of features her baby would get.

Would she inherit the narrow, pointed nose that Cassie, her sister, and her nephew had gotten from Andromeda, or would she get Toto’s wider nose that crinkled when he smiled? Would she get the narrow jaw and almost pointed chin she got from her father, or Toto’s square, strong jawline? Cassie’s nephew got his father’s pale eyes, but Cassie and Toto both had dark eyes. But, Cassie thought, would they be shaped like his intense, hooded stare, or her eyes that were turned slightly upward at their corners? Would their baby inherit the warmth of his skin tone that tanned readily during the warmer months, or would she be pale and prone to freckles and sunburn like Cassie was? Would she get Cassie’s red hair? It was unlikely, Cassie had decided, since she’s not even sure what side of the family she inherited it from. Jason and Helena both had light blonde hair as children that grew out to a medium blonde, like Albert had before his hair went completely white at a relatively early age.

— So — Helena said, settling down in her chair and spreading her napkin out on her lap — What’s new with you? It’s been a while since we last talked. You must be busy with race season fully underway, but I’m sure you don’t want to talk about work on your day off. Any promising prospects lately, in the romance department? The last I heard about was the French restaurant man, what was his name again?

Cassie took a moment to think, remembering the disastrous date that started her on this odyssey to childbirth. So much had changed since then, but how could she explain it all to Helena?

— Um… I actually don’t even remember the guy’s name — Cassie said, with a small giggle — That was the last date I went on, but he was a real treat. Did I tell you that he told me he expected me to quit my job? On the first date! I do confess to making a bit of a scene in the restaurant when I left, but I don’t regret it.

Helena laughed.

— I’m sorry, Cass. I’m sure there’s someone good out there waiting for you.

— Well, it’s funny that you should mention that, because…

Cassie was interrupted by the sound of the townhouse’s doorbell ringing through to the sitting room they were in.

Helena’s brow wrinkled in confusion, as she looked at Cassie.

— Mum, who’s that? — Tommy asked, looking up at his mother.

— I don’t know, Tommy. I wasn’t expecting anyone else today. Excuse me while I go check. Tommy, stay here and tell your auntie all about your riding lesson yesterday.

While Cassie never was swept up in the family’s passion for equestrian sports, Helena took to it immediately. She developed a passion for riding Dressage, and spent most of her time and energy on it growing up. Cassie knew enough about the sport to know that Helena had a passion and a natural gift for the sport that she herself was lacking. Helena cleaned up in competitions in her youth and continued competing into her teenage years and early adulthood. She competed at events all over the world and also competed on the first team — the most prestigious one — during all three of her years at Cambridge, telling Cassie that it was nice to have some “more relaxed events to do”. Just after graduating from college, Helena was named as a reserve rider for the Great Britain dressage squad for the London Olympics.

Cassie didn’t think she’d ever seen either of her parents so proud and happy, certainly not at anything Cassie had done. Helena intended to have another go at making the Olympic team properly for the 2016 games, but she’d gotten married and had a baby two years before then, and “temporarily retired” from competition. Now, she taught high-level riding lessons at an elite stable in Wimbledon, and made frequent trips down to West Sussex to help out at their father’s barn.

Cassie only half-listened as Tommy talked about the pony he got to ride at his most recent lesson, a Palomino named Jammie Dodger, which was his favorite one of the barn’s lesson ponies, because Jammie Dodgers were his favorite biscuit. She was distracted, wondering what was taking her sister so long to return. She was growing a bit concerned.

— Stay here for a moment, Tom Tom. I’m going to see what’s keeping your mum — Cassie said as she took the napkin off of her lap and stood up. She heard snatches of hushed conversation between Helena and another woman coming from Helena’s foyer as she practically tiptoed down the hall.

— Um, I’m sorry, it’s just not a good time. I just wish you’d called first, I have…

— Well, I thought I’d surprise you. I had to be in London today for…

— I know, but…

— I just wanted to stop by and see…

She knew that other voice. She knew who had come by to visit, apparently unexpectedly, who Helena was talking to. Her blood ran cold in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. She was prone to nausea these days, but this kind of sick feeling had nothing to do with her pregnancy or the part of a tea biscuit she’d eaten, but everything to do with who was at the door. She wasn’t sure what to do. She could slink her way back into the sitting room and wait for her sister to see the uninvited guest away, stay in the hallway and continue trying to eavesdrop, or she could confront the visitor head-on, and let things happen as they may.

The choice was made for her, though, by an energetic four-year-old tearing down the hallway in a loud, thumping sprint.

— Gran! — he yelled, catching sight of the woman in the foyer.

— Tommy! — Andromeda squealed, kneeling down to give the boy a big hug. Cassie was relieved that Andromeda hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, but Tommy blew her cover — How is my little man?

— I’m good, gran! Auntie Cassie is here too! — the boy said, cheerfully.

— Oh, is she? — Andromeda said, trying to sound pleasant, despite a distinct squeak in her voice.

Cassie silently cursed the boy, but her frustration was fleeting — he wasn’t aware of the fact that Cassie and the members of her family that weren’t her sister had such a volatile relationship, especially because the last big fallout Cassie and her parents had took place long before Tommy was even born.

Cassie took a moment to steel herself before rounding the corner into the foyer, trying to make sure the expression on her face looked as neutral-to-pleasant as possible.

— Hello, mother — she said, quietly.

Andromeda stood back up straight, and Cassie tried not to stare as she looked her mother up and down. It had been years since they’d been in the same room together, but she mostly looked the same as she remembered. Her dark, wavy hair was cut into an elegant bob and swept away from her face, exactly like she’d styled it for the entirety of Cassie’s life. Her jaw was set, and her thin, carefully-plucked eyebrows were raised. There were streaks of gray emerging at her temples that made her look even more imperious than she usually did. She was wearing a pressed navy blue cotton shift dress and a light gray blazer, with a pair of slingback kitten heels to match.

She was wearing her wedding ring, and a matched set of simple platinum jewelry — a ring, necklace, and bracelet, all from Cartier, if Cassie had to guess, as that had long been Andromeda’s “everyday wear” jewelry of choice. On her thin, elegant wrist, Andromeda wore a vintage Cartier Tank watch that had belonged to Cassie’s grandmother that Andromeda had worn daily since she’d inherited it.

Her nails were manicured to perfection and painted the same shade they’d always been — Essie’s “Ballet Slipper”, which she started wearing years ago because it was an apparent favorite of Queen Elizabeth’s. Cassie balled her hands into fists in a subconscious effort to hide her fingernails, which were currently unpolished and chewed on, as she hadn’t gotten them done in a while. She’d been a nail-biter since childhood, and it was a terrible habit she’d never been able to break.

— Cassandra — Andromeda said, her voice terse — It’s… Ah, good to see you. I hope you’re doing well, with… Whatever it is you’re doing.

— Helena didn’t tell me you were coming today — Cassie said, wondering if she sounded as nervous as she felt. She shot her sister a pleading glance that she hoped Andromeda wouldn’t pick up on.

— I didn’t — Helena started, but Andromeda cut her off.

— Well, it was an unplanned visit. I had to come do some errands on Oxford Street, and I had to pick up something for your father on Savile Row, so, I thought I’d stop by on my way back to see my daughter and grandson. I didn’t realize it would be a… Problem. Speaking of Oxford, is that where you are, still? — she said, leveling her icy gaze at Cassie.

— Yes. Still in Oxford, still working for Mercedes in Northants.

— And still single, I presume? — Andromeda asked, narrowing her eyes. Cassie felt a wave of annoyance ripple across the back of her scalp in pinpricks, but now it was her turn to be cut off as she opened her mouth to respond.

— This is a lovely catch-up — Helena said, abruptly — But I’d prefer we do this somewhere other than my foyer. Cassie and I were just sitting down to tea. Care to join us in the sitting room, mum?”

Andromeda seemed a bit disarmed by the offer, but acquiesced.

— Right this way, then — Helena said, grasping her son’s hand and leading the two other women down the hallway in somewhat of an awkward procession.

Cassie sat back down in her chair and watched as her sister hurriedly set out another place setting for their mother. Helena, then, poured her mother’s tea, making it just the way Andromeda had always preferred it — no sugar, no milk.

— Thank you, my sunshine — Andromeda said to Helena — Now, I believe Cassandra was about to answer my question before we came and sat down.

— We don't have to talk about that — Helena said. Cassandra knew exactly what her younger sister was doing, because she had been doing it since they were teenagers. She was trying to be some sort of referee, a moderator, a buffer between Cassie and their mother. Cassie felt terrible about Helena likely feeling like she had to play this role, but she loved her sister for it.

— No, it’s okay, Helena. You asked as well, before mum arrived. And you’ll be pleased to know that there is someone.

— Really? — Andromeda said, raising her eyebrows — You found someone that can tolerate all of your little… Quirks? At your age, I’m surprised you hadn’t given up trying, I was expecting you to say you’d decided to follow in Sybil’s footsteps and dedicate your life to spinsterhood.

For a moment, it felt like all of the air had left the room. It would have been deadly quiet if not for Tommy noisily scraping his fork against his sandwich plate, trying to spear a piece of cucumber sandwich that Helena had cut up for him.

Cassie could feel white-hot anger rising in her chest. She intentionally clenched her teeth together in a herculean effort to keep her mouth shut and not say the things she desperately wished to say.

— Mother — Helena said, sternly.

— What? She’s in her mid-thirties, it’s not like she’ll be able to have children or anything by now, even if she does find someone who can put up with her.

Without knowing it, Andromeda had tripped the detonator on what was left of Cassie’s restraint. She felt just like she did in that French restaurant with… What was his name? Paul? Peter? There was no reason to maintain any sort of politeness, not if her mother was going to speak to her that way.

— Actually, mum, I was about to tell Helena the good news before you arrived, uninvited — she watched as Andromeda scowled — So, since you’re here, I suppose I’ll share with both of you at the same time. I am seeing someone, in fact, and just over a month ago, we found out that I’m pregnant.

The room filled with noise in an instant, as Cassie could hear the clatter of Andromeda’s teacup falling out of her hands and onto the tabletop in surprise, sending tea sloshing out of the cup and down the front of Andromeda’s dress.

Helena gasped and shrieked with joy as she bolted out of her chair to embrace her sister. Even as she hugged Helena back, she didn’t take her eyes off of Andromeda, who looked crestfallen as she tried to blot the tea off of the front of her dress with her napkin.

— I’m so happy for you — Helena said, pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

— There’s a baby in your tummy? — her nephew asked — Is it a girl or a boy? I hope it’s a boy so I have someone else to play with other than Phoebe, Thalia, and Ariadne.

Cassie laughed at her nephew.

— No promises, Tom Tom, we don’t know yet.

Her sister released Cassie from her clumsy embrace and sat back down in her chair.

— I had no idea, I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. Tell me everything, what’s his name? What does he do?

Cassie tried to think of how to explain it all. She was aware that “the CEO of my company and I have become close friends over the past few years, and entered into a co-parenting agreement with him being the sperm donor for an IVF conception that failed, so we conceived naturally after I had an emotional breakdown, and now I’m in love with him, but my feelings are not reciprocal, so I will spend the rest of my life breaking my own heart to be close to him and make him happy”, was a bit of a mouthful, as well as being difficult to explain.

— His name is To… um, Christian. He’s in finance, and we’ve known each other for a few years — Cassie said, trying to be as simple and vague as possible, while still answering at least one of her sister’s questions. She certainly wasn’t lying, until she said — He loves me, and I love him very much.

Andromeda appeared to be frozen in her seat, slack-jawed in horror as she watched Cassie stand up and pick her purse up from where it was hanging on the back of her chair.

— Now, I’m going to head back home before it gets too late. Thank you for the invitation and the tea, it was so good to see you again. Come to Oxford soon, we’ll get together.

She hugged her sister goodbye, and gave Tommy an affectionate pinch to the cheek.

— And you too, Tom Tom. Next time, I’ll bring you some of the new driver cards we have for this season.

— I’ll walk you out — Helena said.

When they got to the door, Cassie turned to her sister.

— I’m sorry about throwing that grenade and leaving, and thank you for trying to moderate today. I had a lovely time, aside from the obvious. I’ll call you later and tell you everything — she promised, giving her sister a polite kiss on the cheek.

— It’s nothing. I know how things can be with you and mum. Drive safe, and congratulations, once more. Keep me up to date on your progress, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.

When Cassie got back to her car and sat down in the drivers’ seat, she sighed deeply before turning the ignition over, the afternoon playing back in her head. She had intended to tell her sister, but certainly not like she had. She let her mind go blank as she navigated back to the M40, concentrating on trying not to miss her exits. Once she was back on the familiar highway, she felt herself starting to cry a little.

She regretted that her relationship with her mother was such that she announced her pregnancy only to shock her, as a form of petty revenge for Andromeda’s snide comments about her age and relationship status. It was not the kind of relationship a mother and daughter should have — Andromeda should have been overjoyed to hear about the fact that another grandchild was on the way, but it was nothing Cassie wasn’t used to by now.

“At least I know my child will never have a conversation like that with me”, Cassie thought. She was sure of that. She was sure of the fact that she would love her child unconditionally, no matter what her interests were or what kind of life she chose to live when she was older.

She was sad, too, about the fact that she lied about Toto to Andromeda and Helena. She loved him, there was no doubt about that, but she knew that Toto didn’t love her back.

Growing up, her parents — her father, mostly — told her that she was difficult, that she was frustrating, that it was hard to love her. “Nobody likes a know-it-all”, was one of her father’s pet phrases with her. Maybe, without realizing it, she’d internalized that, and after her disastrous relationship with Callum, when he started telling her she was too outspoken or hard-headed, and that she was “too much”, she saw it as confirmation, and didn’t try to find anyone again for a long time after that ended. As she thought about it, she realized that, maybe if Toto didn’t love her back, he’d never see the parts of her that made her too difficult to love for anyone that had tried to before.

As her thoughts turned to Toto, she stopped crying. She called him, having her car’s stereo system dial his number without a second thought, almost as if it was a reflex. She thought about hanging up as she listened to the outgoing call ringing to his number, but he picked up before she could manage.

— Hi — he said. His voice sounded warm and fond — Are you still in London?

— No, just on my way back — Cassie said, trying to not smile so much that Toto could hear it in her voice — Just on the M40 now, about forty minutes out.

— How was it? Did you tell your sister the news?

— Well, my mother showed up…

— Oh no. So, you…

— So, yes, I told her the news. Both of them, at the same time.

Toto chuckled, which made Cassie smile. He had such a nice laugh.

— I’m sure that went well.

Cassie laughed.

— It went about as well as you'd expect.

— Well, I’m just making myself some dinner, if you haven’t eaten yet, I’d be happy to make some for you, if you want to come over and tell me all about it?

A warmth spread through Cassie’s chest, pushing out all of the tightness and sadness she was feeling just moments ago. She may have a lifetime ahead of breaking her own heart to make Toto happy, but these moments — where she could feel happy, too — were well worth the pain.

— I’d love to. I’ll be there soon.

#toto wolff #f1 x oc #formula 1 x oc #toto wolff x oc #formula one x oc #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #collab #wlffog

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homomenhommes · 3 months

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … March 12

1860 – Eric, Count Stenbock, Estonian poet and author of macabre fantastic fiction, born (d.1895); Stenbock's father died suddenly while he was one year old; his properties were held in trust for him by his grandfather Magnus. Eric's maternal grandfather died while Eric was quite young, also, in 1866, leaving him another trust fund.

Stenbock attended Balliol College in Oxford but never completed his studies. While at Oxford, Eric was deeply influenced by the homosexual Pre-Raphaelite artist and illustrator Simeon Solomon. He is also said to have had a relationship with the composer and conductor Norman O'Neill and with other "young men".

Stenbock behaved eccentrically. He kept snakes, lizards, salamanders and toads in his room, and had a "zoo" in his garden containing a reindeer, a fox, and a bear. When he traveled, he invariably brought with him a dog, a monkey, and a life-sized doll. This doll he referred to as "la Petite Comte" ("the little Count") and told everyone that it was his son; he insisted it be brought to him daily, and—when it was absent—he asked about its health. (Stenbock's family believed an unscrupulous Jesuit had been given large amounts of money by the Count for the "education" of this doll.)

One never knew what one would find at this house, where he wrote his opium-induced poems and stories and where he kept a pet toad named Fatima and a lover picked up on a London bus. Visiting Stenbock one day, Oscar Wilde dared to light a cigarette at the votive lamp before the bust of Shelley that his host venerated. This sacrilege caused Stenbock, in true dandy style, to fall to the floor in a dead faint. The unperturbed Wilde, in even truer dandy form, exhaled a puff of smoke, stepped over the prostrate body, and took his leave.

Stenbock lived in England most of his life, and wrote his works in the English language. He published a number of books of verse during his lifetime, including Love, Sleep, and Dreams, 1881, and Rue, Myrtle, and Cypress (1883). In 1894, Stenbock published The Shadow of Death, his last volume of verse, and Studies of Death, a collection of short stories that were good enough to be the subject of favorable comment by H.P. Lovecraft.

1890 – An Ohio newspaper publicizes the suicide of a married man who had taken another man he met in a bar back to his hotel room. A letter in his pocket from his wife complains that she hadn't heard from him.

1890 – Vaslav Nijinsky (d.1950); A Russian ballet dancer and choreographer of Polish origin, Nijinsky was one of the most gifted male dancers in history, and he became celebrated for his virtuosity and for the depth and intensity of his characterizations. He could perform en pointe, a rare skill among male dancers at the time and his ability to perform seemingly gravity-defying leaps was legendary.

Probably the greatest male ballet dancer of all time, Nijinsky's two greatest achievements, assisted by his impresario lover Sergei Diaghilev, were to bring the role of the male dancer to the fore, and to revitalise a world of classical ballet which had entered a period of decline.

Born in Kiev, Ukraine to Polish dancer parents, he was admitted to the St Petersburg Imperial School of Ballet aged 10, where he received an excellent general education as well as a thorough grounding in classical ballet. He was a brillant student and on graduation joined the Imperial Ballet as a soloist in 1907.

He had two love affairs with two Russian noblemen, Prince Pavel Dmitrievitch Lvov and Count Tishkievitch but then he met Sergei Diaghilev, a member of the St Petersburg elite and wealthy patron of the arts, promoting Russian visual and musical art abroad, particularly in Paris.

Nijinsky and Diaghilev became lovers, and Diaghilev became heavily involved in directing Nijinsky's career. In 1909 Diaghilev took a company to Paris, with Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova as the leads. The show was a great success and increased the reputation of both the leads and Diaghilev throughout the artistic circles of Europe.Diaghilev created Les Ballets Russe in its wake, and with choreographer Michel Fokine, made it one of the most well-known companies of the time. His partnership with Tamara Karsavina, of the Mariinsky Theatre, was legendary.

Later, Nijinsky danced again the Mariinsky Theatre, but was dismissed for appearing on- stage wearing tights without the trunks obligatory for male dancers in the company. The Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna complained that his appearance was obscene, and he was dismissed. It is probable that the scandal was arranged by Diaghilev so Nijinsky could be free to appear with his company, in the west, where many of his projects now centered around him. He danced leading roles in Fokine's new production Le Spectre de la Rose, a role never satisfactorily danced since his retirement, and Igor Stravinsky's Petrushka, in which his impersonation of a dancing but lifeless puppet was much admired.

In 1913 he married a young Hungarian woman, Romola Pulszky, who had travelled throughout Europe in pursuit of her dieu de la danse, whilst on tour in Buenos Aires. Devastated by his betrayal, Diaghilev dismissed his star from the company leaving Nijinsky stranded with wife and child and no career - furthermore, it was the First World War and Nijinsky was a Russian citizen in Hungary, and technically a prisoner of war.

Diaghilev attempted a reconciliation with Nijinsky, inviting him to rejoin the Ballet Russes on more than one occasion, but relations between the two former lovers and Nijinsky's wife frustrated every attempt to recreate his former success.

In the later years of the First World War signs of Nijinsky's mental illness became increasingly obvious to his wife and colleagues. In 1919 he suffered a mental breakdown. Increasingly unhappy with his marriage, his ruined career, and a world in turmoil, Romola committed him to a mental institution where he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and subjected to years of drugs and experimental shock treatment. He became a broken man and spent the rest of his life drifting between institutions, even having to be rescued from one asylum when the Nazis began to inter the mentally ill. He died in London in 1950.

Nijinsky's Grave, Montmartre Cemetary, Paris

Of the thousands of descriptions of the famous dancer, only Cocteau's suggests the "mortal god" that was Nijinsky. Cocteau alone observed

"the contrast between the Nijinsky of Le Spectre de la Rose, bowing and smiling to thunderous cheers as he took his fifty curtain calls, and the poor athlete backstage between bows, gasping and leaning against any support he could find, half fainting, clutching his side, being given his shower and massage and rubdown by his attendance and the rest of us. On one side of the curtain he was a marvel of grace, on the other, an extraordinary example of strength and weakness..."

Early pic of Sergei, Vladimir and siblings

1900 – Sergei Nabokov (d.1945), brother of Russian author Vladimir Nabokov, was born in St. Petersburg. The Nabokovs were members of imperial Russia's most exclusive social circles. The family was extraordinarily wealthy; their lineage included princes and generals and government ministers, and even their faithful dog, Box II, was descended from a pair that belonged to Anton Chekhov.

While Vladimir was the eldest and the center of attention, Sergei grew up out of the limelight, shy and unhappy and somewhat odd. Sergei was afflicted with an atrocious stutter that would only get worse as he got older. He idolized Napoleon and slept with a bronze bust of him in his bed. He also loved music, particularly Richard Wagner, and he studied the piano seriously.

Vladimir and Sergei Nabokov

When he was 15 and Vladimir 16, Vladimir found Sergei's diary open on his desk and read it. He showed it to their tutor, who showed it to the children's father. It was proof of his blossoming sexuality.

His homosexuality was behind Sergei's withdrawal from the famously progressive Tenishev school, an all-boy private school also attended by Vladimir and by poet Osip Mandelstam. Sergei left because of a series of "unhappy romances," about which his family instituted a kind of "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

When the revolution came in 1917, the Nabokov family fled Russia, barely escaping with a fraction of their fortune on a Greek cargo boat loaded with dried fruit. Neither Vladimir nor Sergei would ever return to his motherland. After brief stops in Athens and Paris, Vladimir wound up enrolled at Cambridge University; Sergei started at Oxford but joined his brother at Cambridge a semester later, where they both earned degrees.

When the brothers graduated in 1922, they joined their family in Berlin, which had become the social and cultural center of the Russian diaspora. Sergei fit easily into the growing gay community there, and he was friendly with German activist Magnus Hirschfeld, founder of the world's first gay tolerance organization. Sergei and Vladimir went to work at a bank, but the 9-to-5 routine didn't suit them: Sergei quit after a week, Vladimir in a matter of hours. Vladimir remained in Berlin, where he met and married his wife, Vira, but Sergei moved on to Paris.

In the Paris in the '20s, Sergei most likely felt at home for the first time in a city that celebrated art and music, and that took his gayness in stride.

In the winter of 1923 he met painter Pavel Tchelitchev, whose work now hangs in New York's Museum of Modern Art and who painted sets for Sergei Diaghilev. Tchelitchev was also gay and also a Russian imigri, and the two of them shared an apartment with Tchelitchev's lover, Allen Tanner.

The flat was tiny. It had no electricity and no bath — they had to wash themselves in a zinc tub using water heated on a gas stove. Sergei survived by giving lessons in English and Russian.But the cultural scene in which Sergei found himself was rich. Sergei became good friends with Jean Cocteau, and he was also connected, through Tchelitchev, and his cousin Nicolas Nabokov, to Diaghilev, to composer Virgil Thomson, to the Sitwells and even to the legendary salons conducted by Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas.

The story of Sergei's life in Paris has a Cinderella ending. Sometime in the late '20s or early '30s he met and fell in love with a wealthy, aristocratic Austrian, Hermann Thieme.

Charming, handsome, something of a dilettante, Thieme was the son of an insurance magnate. His family owned (and still owns) Schloss Weissenstein, a magnificent 12th century castle in the tiny Alpine village of Matrei im Osttirol near Innsbruck, Austria. During the '30s Hermann and Sergei often retreated to Schloss Weissenstein.

In the spring of 1940 Hitler invaded France, and by May the Germans were bombing Paris. Vladimir and his family left for America on the last boat out of St. Nazaire, but Sergei was away in the countryside at the time. He returned to Paris to find the family apartment suddenly empty.

He chose to stay in Europe with Hermann. The Nazis were already rounding up homosexuals as actively as they were Jews, and to avoid attracting suspicion Sergei and Hermann saw each other only rarely. Sergei took a job as a translator in Berlin, but he had no stomach for war, and the Allied bombings frightened him horribly. The fighting grew more intense, and flight became impossible; Sergei had almost no money, and as a refugee from czarist Russia his only travel document was a flimsy Nansen passport.

In 1941 the Gestapo arrested Sergei on charges of homosexuality. It released him four months later, but he was placed under constant surveillance. It's ironic that at that moment, after a lifetime of shyness and stuttering, Sergei could not keep silent. He began to speak out vehemently against the injustices of the Third Reich to his friends and colleagues.Three weeks later he was arrested for the second time.

An old Russian acquaintance asserts that asserts that Sergei was in fact involved in a plot to hide an escaped prisoner of war, a former Cambridge friend who had become a pilot and been shot down over Germany.

After his arrest Sergei was taken to Neuengamme, a large labor camp near Hamburg, where he became prisoner No. 28631. Conditions were brutal: The camp was a center for medical experimentation, and the Nazis used the prisoners to conduct research on tuberculosis. Of the approximately 106,000 inmates who passed through Neuengamme, fewer than half survived, and as a rule, the guards singled out homosexuals for particularly harsh treatment.

Sergei's conduct in the camp was nothing less than heroic. Ivan, son of Sergei's composer cousin Nicolas Nabokov, says that after the war, survivors from Neuengamme would telephone his family out of the blue — they were the only Nabokovs in the book — just to talk about Sergei. "They said he was extraordinary. He gave away lots of packages he was getting, of clothes and food, to people who were really suffering."

Meanwhile, Hermann had also been arrested, but he was sent to fight on the front lines in Africa. He would survive. He spent his later life at Schloss Weissenstein, without a career, caring for his invalid sister. He died in 1972.

In the early fall of 1945, in his apartment in Cambridge, Mass., Nabokov dreamed of his brother Sergei. He saw him lying on a bunk in a German concentration camp, in terrible pain. The next day he received a letter from a family member in Prague. According to camp records, "Sergej Nabokoff" had died on Jan. 9, 1945, of a combination of dysentery, starvation and exhaustion. Neuengamme was liberated four months later.

1922 – Jack Kerouac, (d.1969); bisexual American novelist, writer, poet and artist. Along with William S. Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg, he is amongst the best known of the writers (and friends) known as the Beat Generation. Kerouac's work was popular, but received little critical acclaim during his lifetime. Today, he is considered an important and influential writer who inspired others, including Tom Robbins, Lester Bangs, Richard Brautigan and Ken Kesey, and writers of the New Journalism.

Kerouac also influenced musicians such as The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Morrissey, Tom Waits, Simon & Garfunkel, Lebris, Ulf Lundell and Jim Morrison. Kerouac's best-known books are On The Road, The Dharma Bums, Big Sur and Visions of Cody.

Kerouac, born Jean-Louis Kerouac in Lowell, Massachusetts,was the third child of a working-class, French-Canadian family. Kerouac did not speak English until attending parochial school at the age of six, the French-Canadian dialect Joual being his primary language.

As a young man, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy but was discharged on psychiatric grounds. Through his first wife, Edie Parker, Kerouac met Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs in 1944. In 1946, Neal Cassady became involved with their group, and the nucleus of the Beat Generation was created. It was with Cassady that Kerouac took to the road.

Though many of his poet and artist friends, including Cassady and Ginsberg, were gay, Kerouac, in his correspondence and journals, considered homosexuality to be a fault, a sin, a vice. In On the Road, Sal's friend Carlo Marx, based on Ginsberg, is openly gay.

Kerouac, himself, was bisexual, but in denial. He exchanged letters with Alan Ginsberg in an attempt to clarify for himself the nature of his sexuality. It appears that he may have had some gay encounters with Neal Cassady on their travels together (In Visions of Cody he waxes rhapsodic about everything from the size of Cassady's penis to how much he thought about his best friend.), but he generally detested homosexuals.This kind of hatred of gays by some gay or bisexual men is not uncommon, and may be a way for them to compensate for feelings of guilt or inadequacy. On the other hand, at that time homosexuality was not an open subject. If he were writing today, he might still be as sexually conflicted as he was in life, but he would have had a richer public context in which to view his conflicts.

Kerouac's Catholic guilt made lasting relationships with men impossible, as evidenced by his casual attitude toward his male sex partners - among whom were Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs, Alan Ansen and Gore Vidal. (Kerouac, Vidal bragged in print later, was the bottom that night).

Kerouac's uneasiness toward his homosexuality led to his practice of omitting his homosexual experiences from his books. For example, The Subterraneans (1958) alters his real-life affair with Gore Vidal into a platonic night spent in a hotel room. Despite this reticence and ambivalence, many of his early works authentically depict gay culture at a time when such portrayals were rare in popular literature.

He died in 1969, from complications of alcoholism.

1928 – The American playwright Edward Albee (d.2016) was born in Washington, DC, as Edward Ranklin Albee III. He is best known for his plays Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, The Zoo Story, A Delicate Balance and Three Tall Women. His works are considered well-crafted, often unsympathetic examinations of the modern condition. His early works reflect a mastery and Americanization of the Theatre of the Absurd that found its peak in works by European playwrights such as Jean Genet, Samuel Beckett, and Eugène Ionesco.

Younger American playwrights, such as Pulitzer Prize-winner Paula Vogel, credit Albee's daring mix of theatricalism and biting dialogue with helping to reinvent the post-war American theatre in the early 1960s. Albee continued to experiment in newer works, such as The Goat: or Who Is Sylvia? (2002).

His early off-Broadway work was, for its time, daring in his mention of homosexuality and its implied homoeroticism. The Zoo Story is a Central Park confrontation between Peter, an ineffectual wealthy man, and Jerry, a counter-cultural figure intent on telling his life story and driving someone to kill him. Jerry's world is the zoo of the title, a brutal universe in which God is "a colored queen in a kimono," indifferently filing his nails. The American dream is a scantily clad, beautiful but heartless male hustler.

Yet Albee's homosexuality and the gay subtext of his early work came to haunt him. Some heterosexist critics, angered by Albee's scathing picture of modern marriage in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, insisted that George and Martha, the feuding central couple in the play had to be a thinly-disguised gay couple

By this time, leading New York critics were becoming increasingly hostile toward the more openly gay work of Williams, William Inge, and Albee. When Albee's allegorical Tiny Alice, in which a cardinal and a lawyer are bickering ex-lovers, opened in 1964, critics attacked furiously.

There is always a hint of the homoerotic about his male-male confrontations. Conventional heterosexual marriage, which is always depicted as infertile, and heterosexual all-American boy-men are his favorite targets. However, Albee saw himself as a satirist of the American condition and not a dramatist of the gay community. As a playwright who staked his success on Broadway in the 1960s and 1970s, he had no choice. However, his critics, though seldom fair, were partly right: It is impossible to ignore the far-from-gay homosexuality in Albee's plays.

Albee was openly gay and stated that he first knew he was gay at age 12 and a half. Albee was briefly engaged to Larchmont debutante Delphine Weissinger, and although their relationship ended when she moved to England, he remained a close friend of the Weissinger family. Growing up, he often spent more of his time in the Weissinger household than he did in his own, due to discord with his adoptive parents.

Albee insisted that he did not want to be known as a "gay writer", stating in his acceptance speech for the 2011 Lambda Literary Foundation's Pioneer Award for Lifetime Achievement: "A writer who happens to be gay or lesbian must be able to transcend self. I am not a gay writer. I am a writer who happens to be gay." His longtime partner, Jonathan Thomas, a sculptor, died on May 2, 2005, from bladder cancer. They had been partners from 1971 until Thomas's death. Albee also had a relationship of several years with playwright Terrence McNally during the 1950s.

Albee died at his Montauk, New York, home on September 16, 2016, aged 88.

1963 – Randall Kenan is an American author of fiction and nonfiction. Raised in a rural community in North Carolina, Kenan has focused his fiction on what it means to be black and gay in the southern United States.

Kenan was born in Brooklyn, New York. Initially raised by his grandparents, Kenan soon went to live with a great-aunt in Chinquapin, North Carolina, a rural community of fewer than a thousand people. The community later became the basis of the fictional Tims Creek, where all of Kenan's fiction is set.

Kenan's first novel, A Visitation of Spirits, was published in 1989. While a few critics praised the book, it did not receive much attention. This changed with the publication in 1992 of Kenan's second book, a collection of short stories titled Let the Dead Bury Their Dead. The stories, based in the fictional community of Tims Creek, focused on (among other things) what it meant to be poor, black, and gay in the southern United States. The book was hailed as a revival of classic southern literature and was nominated for the Los Angeles Times Book Award for Fiction, was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and was named a New York Times Notable Book. The short story collection also brought renewed attention to his first novel, which was likewise set in Tims Creek.

Kenan strongly identifies with both his African American and gay identities, both of which were highlighted in his next two books. In 1993 he published a young adult biography of gay African American novelist and essayist James Baldwin. Kenan has frequently stated that Baldwin is one of his idols. He then spent several years traveling across America and Canada collecting oral histories of African Americans, which he published in Walking on Water: Black American Lives at the Turn of the Twenty-first Century (1999).

1985 – On this date the first memorial to the Nazi's Gay victims was unveiled: a pink granite stone monument at the former Neuengamme concentration camp, inscribed "Dedicated to the Homosexual victims of National Socialism."

1998 – Levi Davis is an explosive winger with an eye for the whitewash and is a former England U18s and U19s international. Davis was a regular in the Bath United team in the 2017 season and scored on his first team debut in the 26-22 victory against London Irish in November 2017.

Davis started the 2019/20 campaign in a rich vein of form, scoring three times in as many games in the Premiership Rugby Cup, with Anthony Watson, Ruaridh McConnochie and Joe Cokanasiga away with England at the Rugby World Cup and Semesa Rokoduguni injured at that point of the season.

In January 2020 he signed a loan deal with Championship side Ealing Trailfinders.

He went to the same school, The Friary in Lichfield, as Daniel Sturridge and was involved in the Wolverhampton Wanderers Academy, but he was 'scouted' for rugby aged 12 when spotted chasing someone who had stolen his cap.

Levi on X-Factor

A talented musician, Levi appeared on Celebrity X-Factor in 2019 as part of rugby boy band Try Star with Thom Evans and Ben Foden.But in April 2020, in the midst of lockdown, every Bath Rugby player received a WhatsApp message they weren't expecting. The message from Levi read: 'Hi guys. I just want to tell you something that's been eating away at me for four years now. I want to be open and honest with you boys, as friends and team-mates. I'm bisexual. It's something I have known since I was 18.'

Jokingly he signed off, 'None of you lot are on my radar... so it's OK'.

What happened next brought an overwhelming rush of relief to the former England U18s and U19s player as the supportive messages from his team mates quickly buzzed into his inbox.

'Mate, we support you.'

Davis, who joined highly ambitious Championship side Ealing Trailfinders over the summer, has praised his former Gallagher Premiership club Bath for supporting him over the last year as his mental health suffered and he turned to heavy drinking as he wrestled with his secret.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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This day in history

Today (May 10), I’m in VANCOUVER for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and later a book event for Red Team Blues at Heritage Hall; on Thurs (May 11), I’m in CALGARY for Wordfest.

#20yrsago Lying, plagiarising NYT writer outed, ousted https://www.nytimes.com/2003/05/11/national/times-reporter-who-resigned-leaves-long-trail-of-deception.html

#20yrsago COGECO’s Terms of Service: Assholes or idiots? https://memex.craphound.com/2003/05/11/cogecos-terms-of-service-assholes-or-idiots/

#10yrsago My Re:publica talk: “It’s not a fax machine connected to a waffle iron” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWqx_1tDyqE

#10yrsago What makes a project remixable? https://mako.cc/academic/hill_monroy-remixing_dilemma-DRAFT.pdf

#10yrsago Bike lanes led to 49% increase in retail sales https://web.archive.org/web/20130315222708/https://www.americabikes.org/nyc_study_finds_protected_bicycle_lanes_boost_local_business

#5yrsago FanFlick Editor: an entry in EFF’s Catalog of Missing Devices https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/05/fanflick-editor-entry-catalog-missing-devices-eff-supporter

#5yrsago Here are the official lyrics to the Mr Softee jingle https://www.thedailymeal.com/eat/mister-softee-jingle-has-lyrics-who-knew

#5yrsago Bite-Sized Linux: a zine collecting awesome *nix tutorial webtoons https://wizardzines.gumroad.com/l/ltywT

#5yrsago West Virginia Senator laughed at the idea that hating on teachers would bite him in the ass — then he lost his job https://theintercept.com/2018/05/11/west-virginia-primary-teacher-strikes/

#5yrsago Pentagon sucks up to Trump by censoring mentions of climate change in its global risks assessment https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/energy-environment/wp/2018/05/10/pentagon-revised-obama-era-report-to-remove-risks-from-climate-change/

#5yrsago Teens are cyberbullying themselves as a form of self-harm https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2018/04/21/604073315/when-teens-cyberbully-themselves

#5yrsago Indigenous Canadians sue the Canadian government over decades of secret, involuntary, inhumane medical experiments https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/may/11/canada-indigenous-people-medical-experiments-lawsuit

#5yrsago Individual FBI agents can be sued for blackmailing potential informants with no-fly list threats https://www.techdirt.com/2018/05/11/court-fbi-agents-can-be-held-accountable-tossing-immigrants-no-fly-list-because-they-refused-to-be-informants/

#1yrago The (billionaires’) case against billionaires https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/11/a-dent-in-the-universe/#eminently-guillotineable

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

#pluralistic

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maleficenthorny · 3 months

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It’s been 10 years since the War ended. Everyone seems to have moved on supposedly and the Ministry of Magic keeps working towards a great new world. But Hermione (me) is still struggling. She’s working at the ministry in an area she supposes she was meant to be in. She has all the possibilities of running towards the election to be the new Minister of Magic. But meanwhile the whole wizarding world is still watching, their eyes never relenting and always there. The Prophet has its own agenda and has continued on publicizing the Golden Trio all throughout this last decade. Events, Commemorations, Obligations, the Golden Trio isn’t exempted from the public eye at all.

Meanwhile Draco Malfoy hasn’t been seen a lot in the Press these last couple of years. People don’t usually know what he did after the Ministry sized his mansion and a great sum of his wealth at the end of the war. Lucius was put in Azkaban, Narcissa fled the country after being pardoned and Malfoy, although out with a fine and a two year probation, still managed to reinvent himself. He’s rumored to have gone to America to study before returning to Europe and traveling the continent. What not everyone knows is that his studies in America were not exclusively Magical, he both became a Potions Master and a Muggle Lawyer and went on becoming a Law Professor in England. He now works in Oxford University and is one of the most renowned Professors in his field.

What happens when, Golden girl Hermione Jean Granger decides to flee her responsibilities for the first time in her life. Overwhelmed with social obligations and work expectations she decides to go away for a week to attend a Seminar in Muggle Oxford. She finds herself excelling in activities and enjoying conferences until in the middle of the week she enters a classroom only to find her childhood nemesis at the front of it. Draco Malfoy is wearing a light grey suit with a green tie, his platinum hair longer than usual but his face the epitome of Attractiveness.

Hi! My name is Sky. I’m 18. I’d love to do a Dramione Roleplay, set 10 years after Voldemort’s defeat. In this Hermione is really struggling with both her mental and physical health while all her friends seem to have moved on from the horrors that hunted them a decade ago. Draco is an escape and a welcome invitation for change. Maybe he’s the answer to finally start healing. I have some ideas of his characterization as well but I’d also like to give you the freedom to explore his character by your own if that’s what you want.

I hope this finds the right people and we get to write a beautiful story together with lots of angst and smut. My prompt was loosely inspired by Fanfics in AO3 such as Green Light and DMATMOOBIL.

Dm or message me and we can exchange Discords!!

#dramione #harry potter #fanfic #roleplay #scene #situationships #green light #dmatmoobil #role play #fantasy #fandom #smut

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zzzallnite · 2 years

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Work hard, play harder

It was a little after midnight at the company party. Justin, alongside his coworkers Eric and Mick, were the last three to stay behind. Justin was the youngest, and also the latest addition to the office out of the three. Like any other new employees, he was a little timid, and struggling to adapt to the new environment. However, he was lucky that he soon had not one, but two senior workers behind his back. Sure, Eric and Mick might be slightly more enthusiastic than those he had worked with before, but for him anything that makes life easier counts.

After the bar closed down for the night, the three men retreated to a hotel room booked by the firm for those who did not wish to drive home after a long evening of drinking. There was a rather large city view room with a king sized bed. Mick opened his secret bottle of whiskey and the men continued drinking. Justin was never a fan of heavy liquor, but that whiskey was god-damn smooth. He ended up finishing the whole thing nearly by himself, while the other two were just looking at him smiling. Around 2 a.m. the men started to feel the effect of the alcohol kicking in. Eric tried to cool down by loosening his tie and kicking off his Oxford shoes, revealing a moist and steamy sheer OTC with gold toe. Mick followed suit and took off his footwear, showing off his ribbed black socks. The men sat next to each other on the couch with their feet on the coffee table. Justin, leaning against the bed frame across the table, felt a little intimidated, yet fascinated by his seniors’ huge feet. However, the alcohol had made all of his inhibition disappeared, as he stood up and joined the other men on to the couch, in the middle.

“We should play something…”, said the junior salesman as he looked at Mick and Eric. At that moment, Justin’s head was already spinning as if he was riding on a merry-go-round, with his colleagues’ wiggling socked feet floating around him. He barely noticed the grin on the face of his colleagues.

“Sure, why not? What game should we play?”, said Mick.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Eric, “I could teach you guys some cool moves from the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu class I have been taking. It’s completely safe, according to my instructor…”

“Do me!”. Justin just blurted out of his drunken mouth. He was so excited that now he got to bond with those he had been looking up to.

“Ok, then. Come here”, said Eric as he signaled Justin to lay out on the couch, leaning against him. Eric loosened Justin’s tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt to make him feel more comfortable, and to make sure that his younger coworker could breathe when the demo was finished. Eric rubbed his hand around the young man’s pectorals to relax him. On the other side, Mick was doing his part by taking off Justin’s shoes and massaging his feet. The scent of the salesman’s black acrylic crew strangely aroused Mick, whose hands now crawled up Justin’s pants and fiddled the leg hairs around the cuff of his socks.

“You should be able to wake up after 10 seconds or so”, said the BJJ brown belt Eric. He then locked Justin’s head with his arm and applied a rear naked choke on his junior colleague. The pressure of the grip increased, and Justin’s crotch area also also begun to tighten, as he started flashing back to the summer where he had lost to a sleeper hold by his cousin during a race to the last popsicle at their grandparents’ house. Noticing the growing bulge inside Justin’s pants, Mick unfastened his belt and pulled down both his pants and black boxer brief. As soon as his bird was free from the cage, Justin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and the lack of oxygen to his brain in combination with alcohol in his blood knocked him out cold completely for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Justin woke up with a pounding headache. He had drunk hard a few occasions in his life, but this time the aftermath felt slightly… different. He rubbed his eyes and realized that he was lying on a hotel bed, and as he lifted up the cover, he noticed that he was completely undressed to only his black crew socks. It felt sticky down there, both his cock and butt crack. There was also a rather unusual taste in his mouth, sweat but slightly fishy. He looked around to find his cell phone; even though it was already weekend, he was worried that he might be late for work, as a reflex. When he turned on the phone, his lock screen had been changed to another picture - the picture from the previous night, of the three colleagues on a blackout-drinking night-out:

Checking his message box, Justin found only one new, from last night:

“Thx for the wonderful night. Welcome to the club. Eric. P/s Don’t worry, our socks were on the whole time so it wasn’t gay”

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susoriginals · 2 months

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Vintage 1920s 1930s Burgundy Brown Leather Aristocraft Longwing Oxfords by Johnston and Murphy Men's Approximate Size 10 Need Re Soled Only $12

#vintage burgundy leather oxfords #burgundy leather oxfords #antique leather oxfords #1920s leather oxfords #1930s leather oxfords #mens vintage oxfords #size 10 leather oxfords #aristocraft leather oxfords #Johnston and Murphy leather oxfords #etsy #vintage shoes #susoriginals #vintage

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charmandabear · 2 months

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Snippet Sunday

tagged by @astarionancuntnin

tagging @astarionfreak @pursuitseternal and @aevallare (but no pressure, of course)

Convenient because I just finished chapter 10 of Office Hours and the draft is even on my ko-fi if you want to read it before it's on AO3 and Tumblr.

His face remains frozen for a moment in a look of utter disgust as he processes what you said. “So you’re telling me,” he drawls, waving his finger like a disgruntled valley girl, “that in order to play this asinine game that you’re making me play, I must pay money to let my feet bask in the foot sweat residue of several hundred strangers?” “You also have to leave your shoes with them while they’re rented,” you add, handing your flats over to the employee, who slips them in the cubby whence they retrieved your rental shoes. Astarion splutters incoherently. “That’s it, you’ve lost me, this was a very cute idea but I am absolut-” You grab his hand as he starts storming away and pull him back towards the rental counter. “C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise!” You grasp his hand in both of yours, an exaggerated gesture of a pleading child. “Just do it for me, please?” He scowls at your beaming face for a moment before rolling his eyes and approaching the counter again. “I’ll take a 9 ½,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. The employee continues to show an almost impressive amount of apathy as they grab the requested size. Astarion makes a show of his disgust as he takes off his patent leather oxfords and puts on the dingy shoes that were presumably red and blue at one point. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth and your grin widens. “You absolutely will not,” you tease. He stands suddenly, closer than you had realized, and looms over you. “Would you like to test that theory?” he hums in a low voice, and your breath catches in your throat. He turns away from your reddening face with a smug sense of satisfaction as he hands his shoes to the employee. He starts to walk away when their voice interrupts him.

#office hours #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfiction #bg3 au

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geminibookbinding · 2 years

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Made a Pokémon Legends Arceus guidebook for my husband. It’s been a while since I’ve made anything and I was a little rusty – kept having to stop and really look at what I was doing and plan the next couple steps (and yet I still forgot to put in a bookmark like I wanted :x )

Rounded spine with an Oxford Hollow, and headbands I feel very confident about, this 200 page book (8.5 x 7 page size [I think I did the math right… used full sheets of legal sized paper]) surprised me by being the first book that can stand on its own without a slight tilt or wanting to fall over! And knowing who this is going to, I used a sealing spray I have to hopefully help protect it from wherever it goes and it gave the gold Arceus on the cover a sort of tarnished look I really wanted. If I had been thinking more when choosing the cover, I would’ve gone with not grey so I could’ve done silver foil instead of gold, but I think it still looks good this way 💖

Edit: finally got around to taking more interior pictures

(Completed: 10/6/2022)

#bookbinding #book binding #it’s a hobby and there’s always something new to learn!

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shinjihi · 8 months

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中国に投資すべきでない理由

アレクサンダー・グリーン

The Oxford Club

チーフ・インベストメント・ストラテジスト

これまで、GDP世界第2位の中国は、世界経済のエンジンであるかのように思われてきました。しかし、今は違います。

私の見解では、中国はもはや投資対象ではないのです。

これは中国国民にとって悲劇的な展開です。

30年前、私は中国が経済的に自由化するにつれて、政治的にも自由化すると期待していました。

しかし、そうはなりませんでした。

事実、中国は逆の方向に進んでいて、その動きは加速しています。

中国の政治的動向

昨年からの政治的動向を見ている限り、私は中国に拠点を置く企業の株を所有したり、推奨したりしないでしょう。

(少なくとも、習近平国家主席が権力を握っている間は）。

中国の労働人口は減少しています。高齢化が進み、出生率は低下しています。

そして不動産ブームが一転して不況となりデフレが定着しました。物価が下がれば、消費者は消費をしなくなります。

観光業は崩壊しました。輸出は暴落しています（今年7月の輸出は前年比14.5%減少で、2020年2月以降で最大の落ち込みとなりました）。そして建設債務が膨らんでいます。

ブルームバーグによると、メキシコは今年、中国を抜いて最大の米国貿易相手国となりました。

これは単なる一過性の落ち込みではありません。

中国の政治的動向

自由市場や成長よりも共産党を優先する習近平氏の新しい経済戦略は、中国に大きな損失を与え続けるでしょう。

共産主義では、頭がよく無関心な官僚たちが、変化の激しい経済を監督・管理できるとふんでいますが、それは不可能であるということです。世界の歴史上、そんなことは一度も実現しなかったのに、中国政府はそれを証明しようとしているのです。

昨年、共産党は習近平氏が言うところの「資本の無秩序な拡張」を抑制するために、さまざまな産業を恣意的に取り締まりました。

（習近平氏は、経済学者のヨーゼフ・シュンペーター氏が「創造的破壊」と呼ぶ経済ダイナミズムの必然的な結果を理解していないようです。古い企業や技術は必然的に新しいものに取って代わられるのです）。

彼の強引な政策の結果、ビジネスマンや投資家は中国を見限りつつあります。

北京は今年、2023年を「対中投資の年」と銘打ちましたが、実際は逆のことが起きています。2023年4 – 6月期の中国への海外直接投資（FDI）は、前年比マイナス87.1%の492億ドルに減少しました。これは1998年以降で最も低い額です。

資金と人材の流出

ゴールドマン・サックスのエコノミストは、今年は中国への海外直接投資が中国からの海外直接投資とほぼ同じになって、中国への実質的な投資流入がゼロになるだろうと予測しています。

40年以上にわたって、海外から莫大な投資資金を流入させてきた中国にとっては、驚くべき大反転になります。

中国経済は、技術革新と生産性維持のために海外からの投資と専門知識に依存している状態にも関わらず、資金と人材は流出してしまっているのです。

中国のGDP成長率は2010年代初頭から劇的に鈍化しており、新型コロナウイルスのロックダウン後の、期待されていた景気回復は現れていません。

共産党の弾圧

今年7月、中国政府は衝撃的なデータを発表しました。16歳から24歳までの若者の6月失業率が

同時に中国政府は「若者の失業率の公表を一時停止する」と決定しました。

これは、政治における一番の目標が市民の生活向上ではなく、党の支配を拡大する場合に起こることです。

中国共産党は、大都市に集中する若者の不満により権威が脅かされることをよく理解しています。

しかし、中国共産党は不満を持つ若者のニーズに応える経済プログラムを作る代わりに、弾圧を倍増させているのです。

中国共産党は知識人、権利弁護士、活動家など、基本的に反対意見を持つ者を取り締まってきました。

党に異議を唱えたと疑われる者は検挙され、組織は解散させられたのです。

そして政府は、広範囲に及ぶ監視カメラから携帯電話の追跡、顔認識技術に至るまで、あらゆるものを使って人々の動きや考えを監視しています。

この全体主義は徹底しており、中国はいまや北朝鮮と比較されることが多くなっています。

習近平が克服できない問題

習近平氏は、悪化する経済からの影響を抑えたいと考えているでしょう。しかし、彼には克服できない問題があります。

それは、市場は封じ込めたりコントロールしたりできないということです。中国共産党の経済政策に対する世界の判断は、誰の目にも明らかです。

以下は、中国の主要株価指数とS&P500種株価指数を比較したチャートです。

＜米国株が中国株をアウトパフォーム＞

(青)S&P500 種株価指数P500種株価指数　（緑）上海総合指数

出所：Bloomberg のデータ��基にOxfordクラブ作成 size

ご覧の通り、米国株は中国株を圧倒的な差で上回っています。2021年に入ってから、中国の主要株価指数である上海総合指数は10％近く下落しているのに対し、S&P500種株価指数は18％以上上昇しています。

このような悲惨なパフォーマンスの結果、中国を除外した新しい新興市場指数が登場しています。

昨年の10 – 12月期以降だけでも、ゴールドマン・サックス、パトナム、ウィズダムツリーなどの資産運用会社が、中国株を除外した10の上場投資信託や投資信託を発表しています。

驚くなかれ、これらのファンドは中国株価指数に勝っています。

中国株は世界で最も割安な部類に入ります。しかし、私ならそんなファンドには手を出しません。

低いバリュエーションは、生産性の低迷、売上高の減少、期待はずれの業績の結果です。

要するに、「独裁リスク」が投資家の頭の片隅にあるのです。

中国は単に最適な投資先ではないだけではなく、世界の資本にとって潜在的なブラックホールなのです。

ロシアがウクライナに侵攻したとき、ルーブルは暴落し、ロシア経済は落ち込み、同国の株式は取引不能となりました。

同様に中国が台湾を手に入れた時、習近平氏が権力を握り、歴史的な経済衰退から国民の目を逸らそうとしている以上、同じような下落が起きる可能性はあります。

私は、中国市場がこれから短期的な上昇を経験しない、あるいは本格的な強気相場にならないとは言っていません。

しかし、もっと良い投資リターンは、もっとリスクの少ない他の場所にいくらでもあるのです。

P.S.

今日は中国について私の考えをお話ししました。

やはり自由主義で成長する米国株への投資をお勧めします。

#中共 #経済 #バブル崩壊 #中国 #習近平 #捏造 #投資 #共産党 #北朝鮮 #政治

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alicecharlotte · 1 year

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Reviews: New 2024 Ford F250 Super Duty Pickup Truck

Super Duty models are the true workhorses of Ford's extensive pickup lineup, despite the fact that the full-size F-150 receives the most attention.

The 2024 Ford F-250 is the entry-level Super Duty pickup and has recently undergone a complete redesign. We don't anticipate any significant changes to the 2024 model, as it was just redesigned from scratch in 2018.

This generation of the 2024 F250 offers two new engine options, reflecting the truck's emphasis on capability. A 6.8-liter V8 engine producing 400 horsepower and 445 lb-ft of torque is standard.

Ford offers a 6.7-liter diesel V8 engine with 475 hp and 1,050 lb-ft of torque for customers with even more demanding requirements. Each engine is coupled to a 10-speed automatic transmission.

The maximum towing capacity exceeds 20,000 pounds. Other job site amenities include a Pro Power Onboard generator and bed-mounted payload scales.

The Chevrolet Silverado 2500HD, the GMC Sierra 2500HD, and the Ram 2500 are competitors to the Ford F-250 Super Duty. With its modern design and more potent engine options, the Ford compares favorably to its competitors.

Redesign: A Modern and Fresh Appearance

The exterior of the 2024 Ford F250 has been redesigned to convey power and modernity. This truck's striking contours, muscular fenders, and prominent grille command attention on the road.

The redesigned headlamps and taillights feature cutting-edge LED technology for enhanced visibility and a distinctive appearance. Ford has also prioritized aerodynamics to improve fuel economy while maintaining the truck's rugged appearance.

Renovated Interior: Innovation and Comfort

The refreshed interior of the 2024 Ford F250 combines comfort and cutting-edge technology. The cabin is refined, functional, and inviting due to the use of superior materials and skilled craftsmanship. The spacious seating provides adequate legroom, making even lengthy journeys comfortable. The redesigned dashboard features an intuitive infotainment system with the most recent connectivity options and an intuitive interface.

Unrivaled Engine Options for Power and Performance

The 2024 Ford F250 performs admirably when it comes to propulsion. Ford offers a variety of formidable engine options to accommodate various requirements. The base model is endowed with a powerful V8 engine that provides exceptional torque and towing capacity.

The available turbocharged V8 engine offers exhilarating performance on and off the road for those seeking even more power. Ford's dedication to engineering excellence ensures that the 2024 F250 provides you with the necessary power when you need it.

Exterior Enhancements

The 2024 Ford F250's exterior enhancements are not merely aesthetic; they also improve functionality. Designed with versatility in mind, the truck bed features integrated storage compartments and tie-down points for securing cargo with simplicity.

In addition, the available bed liner and tonneau cover provide additional protection and convenience. The redesigned tailgate features a step and a handhold, making it easy to access the bed even when carrying large loads.

Colors

The 2024 Ford F250 is available in a variety of colors to accommodate every preference. From traditional hues such as Oxford White and Shadow Black to daring hues such as Velocity Blue and Race Red, there is a color that will make an impression on the road. Ford's superior paint finishes ensure that your F250 will attract attention wherever it goes.

Price and Release Date

Ford recognizes the significance of affordability, and the 2024 F250 is competitively priced. Ford plans to offer a variety of specification levels and options to accommodate a variety of budgets, but the exact pricing information has yet to be revealed. The 2024 Ford F250 is anticipated to arrive in showrooms in the spring of 2024, giving vehicle enthusiasts something to look forward to.

Conclusion: The Ultimate Force

In conclusion, the 2024 Ford F250 is poised to be the segment's definitive powerhouse. Its redesign imparts a fresh and contemporary appearance, while its interior provides comfort and innovation. The variety of engine options ensures that there is a suitable powertrain for every need, and the exterior upgrades improve both form and function.

The 2024 F250 will make a statement on and off the road with its array of distinctive colors and anticipated competitive pricing. In 2024, this remarkable truck will be available for purchase.

#2024 F250 #2024 Ford F250

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mrcollege-ac-uk · 1 year

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List of Top Colleges in UK You Must Know

The UK has a long-standing tradition of excellence in education, with some of the world's oldest and most prestigious universities located in the country. From the University of Cambridge, founded in 1209, to the more modern University College London, there are many top universities to choose from.

In addition to these well-known universities, there are also many excellent colleges in the UK that offer high-quality education in a variety of fields. In this post, let’s explore some of the top colleges in the UK, including Mont Rose College.

List of Top Colleges in UK

Mont Rose College:

Mont Rose College is a top college in the UK that offers a range of courses in business, hospitality, and management. It is located in Ilford, in the east of London, and is known for its high-quality teaching and small class sizes.

University of Cambridge:

The University of Cambridge is a leading and oldest university in the English speaking world, with a history dating back to 1209. It is consistently highest ranked as one of the top global universities in the world, and is home to over 20,000 students from all over the globe.

University of Oxford:

The University of Oxford is another of the UK's oldest and most prestigious universities. Founded in 1096, it has a long history of academic excellence and is consistently ranked as one of the top universities in the world.

University College London:

University College London, also known as UCL, is a public research university located in the heart of London. It is part of the prestigious Russell Group of universities and is consistently ranked among the top 20 universities in the world.

Imperial College London:

Imperial College London is a science-focused university that is consistently ranked as one of the top 10 universities in the world. It is known for its excellence in science, engineering, and medicine.

University of Edinburgh:

The University of Edinburgh is one of Scotland's oldest universities, with a history dating back to 1583. It is consistently ranked as one of the top 20 universities in the world and is known for its excellence in the humanities, social sciences, and sciences.

London School of Economics:

The London School of Economics, also known as LSE, is a public research university located in London. It is known for its excellence in the social sciences and is consistently ranked as one of the top universities in the world in this field.

University of Bristol:

The University of Bristol is a public research university located in Bristol, in the south-west of England. It is consistently ranked as one of the top universities in the UK and is known for its excellence in the arts, humanities, and sciences.

Why Choosing One of the Top Colleges Near Me in London is Important?

Choosing a good top college near you in London is important for several reasons. Firstly, the quality of education that you receive can have a significant impact on your future career prospects. Top colleges in London offer high-quality teaching, resources, and facilities that can help you develop the knowledge and skills needed to succeed in your chosen field.

Secondly, attending a top college near you can provide you with opportunities for networking and making important connections in your field. You may have the chance to attend industry events, connect with professionals in your field, and gain work experience through internships and placements.

Thirdly, attending a top college near you can also provide you with a sense of community and belonging. You will be studying alongside like-minded individuals who share your passion for your subject, and you may have the chance to get involved in extracurricular activities and clubs that can help you develop new skills and interests.

Finally, choosing a top college near you in London can also provide you with the opportunity to experience all that this vibrant and dynamic city has to offer. You can explore its cultural attractions, attend events and concerts, and connect with people from all over the world.

In short, choosing a good top college near you in London is important because it can help you achieve your academic and career goals, provide you with valuable networking opportunities, help you develop a sense of community and belonging, and allow you to experience all that this amazing city has to offer.

Enrol in Top Colleges London Today!

The UK is home to many top universities and colleges, each with its own unique history and strengths. Whether you are interested in studying at one of the oldest universities in the world, such as the University of Cambridge or the University of Oxford, or at a more modern institution like UCL or Imperial College London, there is a wide range of options to choose from. And for students interested in studying at a top college in the UK, Mont Rose College is a great choice.

Choosing a top college near you in London can have a significant impact on your education, career prospects, and personal growth. The city is home to some of the oldest and most highly ranked universities in the world, as well as many excellent colleges that offer a range of academic and vocational courses.

Attending a top college in London can provide you with access to high-quality teaching and resources, valuable networking opportunities, a sense of community and belonging, and the chance to experience all that this amazing city has to offer. So, if you're looking to further your education and achieve your career goals, consider exploring the many top colleges near you in London.

To learn more about Mont Rose College and its range of courses in business, hospitality, and management, visit their website today.

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