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addsalwayssick · 6 days

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Marauders Night At the Museum Au part 1

Remus pressed his lips into a line a quirked his eyebrow. James, on the other hand, smiled. “Thank you, sir.” James said, patting his back.

“You start tonight. There are rules in the cabinet.” Albus said, waving them out of his office door for the night.

Albus soon packed up, leaving both Remus and James behind in the sunset.

Remus pulled out a book, starting to read. “You’re so boring. We should be exploring.” James sighed, spinning around in a spinny chair.

Remus rolled his eyes. The sunset drew to a close, as a curtain of darkness fell upon them. James, now sleeping in a chair, only awoke when Remus screamed. Now, James was expecting a robber, or a burglar or something. What he was not expecting was a skeleton dog trying to get behind the circular desk that James and Remus were sat at. James was wide awake now. “Holy crap! What do we do?” James yelps.

“Get the rules!” Remus says, his voice rushed.

James tries to open the cabinet Albus said it would be in, failing to. “It’s locked!” James said.

“Try again!” Remus shouted.

“I can’t!”

They heard a piercing whistle throughout the museum, and everything stopped. A man wearing tight pants, and a complicated top came out. The skeleton dog rushed to him, sitting by his side. “What are we doing chasing the new night guards?” He asked the dog. The man was gorgeous. With his long dark hair, eyes silver yet warm, and a smile radiating through the cold air of the museum.

Remus thought he was beautiful. Remus had never thought of anyone like that. “Who are you?” Remus said, coming to his senses.

“I am Prince Sirius Orion Black the lll of France. Well, previously I suppose. It is…2024, non? Well I was disowned in 1775, so I suppose that’s that. I was killed in 1780, though, so it didn’t matter.” He said, his black hair swishing elegantly, despite his sad story.

“Are you alone?” Remus asked carefully, his mind swimming with questions. “Are you real?”

Sirius laughed. “No, i’m not alone. I have my brother Regulus. He got disowned and guillotined in the same day. He technically died before me. Only by a month, though. And no, i’m not real. I’m made of wax.”

“Where is Regulus?” James found himself clearing his throat and asking.

“Well he got sent out for enjoying men’s company and guillotined for having no desire to be a woman, so most likely changing. They’re awful here, they put him in a corset every day. He changes, every night though.” Sirius told them.

Remus and James’s mouths dropped. At the stunned silence, Sirius groans. “Please don’t tell me you don’t like the fact we prefer men over ladies. Ladies are lovely, I just don’t like them. The last night guards were like that and-“

“You like men too?” Remus chokes out.

Sirius nods carefully. Remus gets up out of his seat, patting Sirius in the back. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise James and I don’t care. I’m bisexual and James is Pan”

Sirius furrows his eyebrows. “You speak two languages? As do I. What does that have to do with anything. And James is a pan? He doesn’t look like one.”

Remus laughs. “I like men and woman. James likes everyone.”

Sirius frowns. “Oh. That’s nice. So what am I called?”

“You just like men, right?” Remus asks, taking him to the seats. The dog follows. Sirius nods. “Then you’re gay, probably.”

“Gay? As in happy? Well, I suppose I am happy with men.” Sirius thinks aloud.

Remus laughs, brushing his hair out of his face.

James, on the other hand, is nearly banging his head against the desk. He truly didn’t think life could get any crazier after his boyfriend of 2 years broke up with him, kicking him out, with no job. But of course, wax statues, skeleton dogs, animals, and is that a talking statue of George Washington? are coming alive. James was not having the best time. He was happy his best friend, Remus, finally met someone (even if it was a wax statue) and thought that was awesome, except for the fact they were talking wax statues that are now alive. Wasn’t Remus supposed to be the logical one?

But then again, all his logic apparently flew away when a man walked down the stairs with James’s clothes on. James coughed. “Those are my clothes.”

The man turned to him and frowned. “Hm. Sorry. Yours must have been the locker I nestled into. I have to steal these clothes you see, because apparently committing so called treason and getting executed isn’t enough for me to be put in men’s clothes.”

“Oh, no! It’s totally okay, just a bit of a shock. Considering it had my name on the back and things.” James choked.

James had walked in wearing a spider-man t-shirt, black jeans, and a letterman jacket from high school that said ‘Potter 03’ on it. He had to change into his uniform, so the clothes went into the locker.

It seemed wrong that someone as elegant as this man before him was wearing something so casual. He looked as if he belonged in a painting.

He smiled. “Thank you then.”

“Are you Regulus?” James asks, fascinated by this new man.

Regulus nods. “I suppose Sirius had told you our entire life story?” James nods. “Thought so.” When James looked confused, Regulus sighs. “He tells everyone.”

i haven’t posted any writing in literally forever so have this unfinished scrap xx

#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #jegulus #sirius #sirius x lupin #wolfstar #regulus and evan and barty #sirius and regulus #remus and regulus #regulus black #grahhh #dies #cries #sobs #addie writes

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helaelaemond · 6 months

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Billy Washington NSFW Alphabet

source

Billy x reader masterlist

Written with established girlfriend/partner reader in mind.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

soft and tender. He doesn't rush to clean up, and would rather spend the immediate moments after with you in his arms, stroking your cheek, your back, and offering whatever affection you can welcome.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he knows how much you love his hands and he learns to take care of them for your sake - hand cream in the winter and when he remembers, letting you cut his cuticles. He also likes when he gets the 'v' across his hips and lower stomach. He loves your breasts, and will utterly worship them for hours if he can.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Billy both hates and loves seeing his come on you. On the one hand, he doesn't like 'degrading' you - he's watched enough porn to know that it can be a dirty and degrading thing, and he thinks you're above it. But on the other hand... you ARE his. You belong to him, or at least that's how he feels deep, deep down.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when he was lonely, he spent money on personalised camgirl experiences. There's nothing shameful about paying for sexual experiences, but because it was rooted in a lot of his shame and isolation, he would never, ever admit to it. It's his 'dirty' secret.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he has experience in both long-term relationships, and short-term arrangements. He's average in bed, nothing amazing in general, but when he's in love with his partner, the depths of his devotion can make sex incredible.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

missionary on the sofa where he can balance himself with one foot on the floor, one knee on the cushion.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

depends on the situation, and who he's with! When he's with someone he loves, he can really let go and not focus too intensely on what's happening, and so he can laugh more easily. But a lot of the time he puts pressure on himself to 'perform' well - when he's in that mindset, laughter can make him feel laughed at, rather than with. That can make him pretty serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in his flop era, he's unkempt, on the dirtier side of unkempt. When he's in a stable and healthy relationship, he's always clean. He grooms a bit - trims rather than shaves between his legs. The smattering of hair on his chest is left as is for the most part, but he will occasionally wax. He's not hairy on his back.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

with a partner he loves, he is very romantic in the moment - he's all soft touches, long looks, devoted kisses. Your comfort and pleasure is paramount to him, and even if he's fucking you within an inch of your life, he still tells you how much he loves you, how good you are for him. If it's slow and steady, he'll stroke your hair and kiss your temple and smile so sweetly at you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if he's in a relationship, he jacks off to clear the pipes, as it were. He usually likes to orgasm once every two days or so, but this can vary depending on what anti-depressants he's on. He no longer uses porn to jack off, and you've sent him enough voice notes, videos, photos, for him to find completion with just a few tugs.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

daddy kink. This was discovered by accident after he leaned into a soft!dom role. One thing led to another in the moment, and the 'D' word slipped out. He realised that it filled him with pride, because for the first time, he really felt in control, and like he had someone to take care of and make feel good. It's a secret thing that he doesn't share with anyone unless he's in a committed relationship with them.

L = Location (favourite places to fuck)

nothing beats the comfort of home. The sofa is his all time favourite place - not only because it allows for a great number of positions, but because when company comes over, he can look over at it and think of how he had you mewling there an hour ago.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Billy is a young man - a gust of wind can get him going. But aside from the obvious (a lingering glance that lasts too long, holding his hand a little too tight, touching his chest innocently, and so on and so forth), being hugged from behind. Feeling you press your body against his from behind, your breasts against his back, your hands on his stomach or chest, makes him feel really good. Being reassured and praised outside of a sexual context also turns him on, because it creates a safe space for him where he feels valued. Feeling safe makes him horny as hell around you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hardcore BDSM and related activities. More taboo sexual acts don't interest him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Billy Washington is a pussy eating champ. He is a total whore for pussy - he gets on his knees and it's the only thing on his mind. He worships it, devotes himself to it, gets drunk on it. He can come from eating pussy alone, it turns him on so fucking much. If he could only participate in one sexual act for the rest of his life, it would be performing oral. And like a true artist, he's always perfecting his craft.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it varies, but he's more likely to be on the slower and more sensual side with someone he loves - you've got all the time in the world, why rush?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they're alright, but he'd rather wait hours for a time when you can take your time and enjoy it, rather than rush it. He'd be more up for a mutual handjob to relieve the tension, rather than oral or penetrative sex where he'd prefer to take his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's less likely to take risks than his partner. He likes to play it safe in terms of location, but if he does take a risk (for example, with a new position) he's more likely to just give it a go rather than talk about it beforehand (because he's usually too embarrassed to find the words). Usually, whatever you want to try, he'll go along with it!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

put a cock ring on him, and Billy will last as long as you want him to, even if it makes him red and sore and weeping. In the beginning of his sex life, like many young people, his stamina was minimal. However, as he gets older, and gets properly medicated, his stamina improves. Sometimes the medication means he lasts too long, but that's okay!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yes - he has a fleshlight, and for you, he's invested in grinders. He loves to strap one to his thigh and help you grind to orgasm on it. He's also up for small butt plugs, cock rings (vibrating or otherwise), magic wands. Nothing kinky, really, but toys that can enhance your play together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

only a little - he can't deny you anything, really, so if you beg and plead, he's powerless

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

with someone he loves, he can be vocal, especially if he's reassured that his sounds are welcome. The more he's encouraged, the more free he is. Whimpers, soft begs, loud moans, throaty cries - he will let you hear it all, if you'll make him feel safe to do so.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

like most British men, he's uncircumcised. He loves his foreskin being teased.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

tall and lanky, and he can get definition with minimal effort in the gym. Well hung even when soft, but not well-endowed enough to cause pain.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

moderate - he's happy to have sex no more than 2-3 times a week, although if you wanted it every day he would definitely be able to keep up. That being said, he is perfectly happy to sort himself out. He'd prefer to cuddle with you in bed every night without you feeling any kind of pressure to engage in acts you're not in the mood for - and he makes sure you know this, too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

with someone he loves, he'll fall asleep pretty quick - he feels safe. He wishes he could stay awake longer just to enjoy your company and watch your lovely face, but sometimes the relaxation is just too great, and it's sleep time!

#billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy drabble #ewanverse #ewan nation #billy washington x you #i love him ur honour #mine

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jbaileyfansite · 5 months

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Interview with Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer from GQ Hype

Filled with cozy, Hemingwayesque signifiers of midcentury masculinity (think: taxidermy and artfully-tattered boxing gloves), the restaurant seemed perfect for a breezy, late-autumn hang in the West Village.

But there’s one problem: Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey have burgers on their minds. And while this place boasts a surplus of dead animals nailed to the wall, it somehow only serves snacks and salads in the afternoon. And as Bomer points out, Corner Bistro—a pub that, in his opinion, serves some of the best burgers in town—is just a six-minute walk away.

The British-born Bailey—who, in his black sweater, floppy beanie and overstuffed backpack, looks more like a backpacker who just rolled out of his hostel rather than one of the streaming era’s top heartthrobs—waxes rhapsodic about In-N-Out, the California burger institution, which he recently tried for the first time.

He asks the suave, Old Hollywood-handsome Bomer, who spends most of his time in L.A. with his husband and three teenage sons, where In-N-Out falls on his personal burger index. “Our boys are really good judges of burgers,” Bomer says, and for them, In-N-Out is up there—but so is the burger at Corner Bistro. And how can we send Bailey—the Viscount of Bridgerton himself—back to London without tasting New York’s best?

Our location, midway between Stonewall Inn and Julius, two of New York’s most historic gay bars, is apt. The project we’re here to talk about—the epic new Showtime series Fellow Travelers, in which the pair star—tips its hat to the legendary 1969 riots that happened in Stonewall, but goes even further, telling the story of gay liberation in the second half of the twentieth century.

Part epic love story, part political thriller, Fellow Travelers begins in 1950s Washington, D.C., with an illicit affair between the strapping Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Bomer), a State Department official savvy to the ways of power, and the earnest, energetic Timothy “Tim” Laughlin (Bailey), the kind of wide-eyed idealist who goes to D.C. wanting to change the world. When they first meet, Tim is a conservative Catholic boy; his passionate, intensely erotic affair with Hawk both liberates him and throws him off his path.

Through the decades-spanning run of their relationship, the series takes us from the Lavender Scare of the 1950s—when a McCarthy-era policy that institutionalized homophobia expelled many “sexual deviants” from government, resulting at one point in a suicide a day—to the AIDS crisis of the 1980s.

The series is based on the Thomas Mallon novel of the same name. But where Mallon’s book generally focuses on the 1950s and the explosive romance between Hawk and Tim, the series expands the Fellow Travelers universe to reach through the decades and cover the Vietnam War protests of the '60s and the White Night riots of 1979.

“It's been taught that LGBTQIA+ history begins at Stonewall,” says Jelani Alladin, the actor who plays queer Black journalist Marcus Hooks in the series. “It’s a kind of false narrative. Queer people have been around taking a stand for themselves since the beginning of time.”

It feels like a disservice to call a series so sexy and so compelling as educational. But Fellow Travelers does serve as an important history lesson for younger generations who may not fully understand the battles fought before their time. “It was a really dark period in American history that obviously we're not taught in school,” says executive producer Robbie Rogers, who prior to his work in film and TV was the soccer player who became the first openly gay man to compete in a North American professional sports league. “We're not taught LGBT history.”

When the first episode of the series came out in late October, a viral clip showcasing Bailey and Bomer in a particularly kinky sex scene had Gay Twitter shuddering with excitement. In the scene, Bailey’s Tim uses his power as a sub to persuade Bomer’s Hawk to take him to an important D.C. party. “I’m your boy, right?” he tells Hawk. “Your boy wants to go to the party.” In surely one of this year’s hottest scenes on film or TV, we see Bailey hungrily suck on Bomer’s toes and gamely attempt to put his foot in his mouth. Earlier in the series, Hawk gives Tim the name “Skippy” after thoroughly dominating him in bed, a gesture of affection as much as of ownership.

Sex is a powerful, world-shifting force in Fellow Travelers, but it’s also a Trojan horse. While the early episodes bristle with erotic energy, every exchange between Bomer and Bailey is about power as much as it is about sex. And the further you go into Travelers, the more you realize what’s really at stake when these two hit the sack.

“Even in the ‘50s, they had joy,” Travelers creator and writer Ron Nyswaner, the Oscar-nominated screenwriter of Philadelphia, says. “You might be struggling, but that doesn't mean every moment of your life you're a victim of oppression. Behind closed doors they had a life—it's just that at any moment, the police could come through those doors and ruin that life.”

That unapologetic approach to queer desire is still pretty revolutionary in a big-budget prestige series on a major network. Gone are the days when gay characters were allowed to exist onscreen as long as they adhered to respectability politics. In Fellow Travelers, the queer characters are allowed passionate, unapologetically freaky pleasures.

“There's no shame attached to that,” Bailey says. “And I do think Matt's character detonates something in Tim. It's a gift to meet someone [who does the] radical act of helping you feel less shame and understand that intimacy that can be explored in so many different ways.”

Religion is a big theme in Fellow Travelers. Hawk is bound by covenant to his wife; Tim struggles with Catholic guilt. And like many queer people, Bomer and Bailey themselves have both had to negotiate religion within their queer identities.

“It took me a long time to dismantle it and to question what I was being told,” Bailey says. “Religion is interesting because it’s the voice of the shame but also [a source of] relief. There was this person that I could speak to—and I definitely did have that full conversation with a higher power. But the contradiction is brutal. To really lean into that as a gay kid who's not born into a gay family, you see both sides of what religion can provide, which is scathing judgment—as I felt it looking back—but also a real space for catharsis and nourishment.”

Bomer says he has an individualized approach to religion: “It's something that I've found for myself over years and years of exploration. It's just highly personal that way.” Bomer is proud to have raised his kids in a truly intersectional environment. “They go to an Episcopal school, but they're in school with Muslim kids, with Jewish kids,” he says. “We gave them that experience and then let them find their own way from there.”

On the way to Corner Bistro, Bomer gives Bailey a capsule tour of gay West Village. “That’s an iconic lesbian bar,” he says, pointing out Cubbyhole on West 12th street. Later, he asks if we’ve ever been to Fire Island. “You can have any experience you want there,” Bomer tells me, when I confess my anxiety around Speedos. “It's not just one thing.”

These streets bring up certain memories for Bomer. He tells us about coming up as an actor in New York in the early 2000s, at one point living in “a renovated crackhouse in Brooklyn.” Later, he worked two jobs to afford a one-bedroom apartment he split with a fellow aspiring actor—none other than Lee Pace, the famous, and famously tall (6′ 5″, if you don’t know), actor and Internet Boyfriend who Bomer has known since high school. “I’ll tell you how long I've known Lee Pace,” he says. “I’ve known him since he was shorter than me, when he was 14 and I was 15.”

As gay men are wont to do, trust that the group veered off-topic to talk about vocally-prodigious divas. Bomer has just seen the Broadway production of David Byrne’s Here Lies Love, which tells the story of the rise and fall of Imelda Marcos, the wife of the Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos. And when he finds out that I grew up in the Philippines, he tells me how much he loves Lea Salonga, the Tony-winning Filipino Broadway star who appears in the production.

We ask Bailey if he’s familiar with her. “Do I know Lea Salonga?” he asks. “She was Fantine!” he retorts, referring to her role in Les Misérables in Concert: The 25th Anniversary.

From there, we fall into a Filipino diva rabbit hole, talking about former Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger (currently appearing in a well-received West End production of Sunset Boulevard that Bomer tells Bailey they must catch together), Mutya Buena of the Sugababes (an iconic U.K. girl group that Bailey and I separately saw live recently), and Darren Criss (who Bomer directed on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story—technically a straight male, but one who earns diva status for his formidable vocals and the dance he did in a red speedo on Versace).

As we near the pub, a thirty-something woman walking hand in hand with her man does a hilariously convincing impression of the Distracted Boyfriend meme at the sight of Neal Caffrey and Anthony Bridgerton casually strolling through West 4th Street.

“Her neck!” Bailey says, audibly concerned.

In Corner Bistro, with sandwiches and coffees in hand (Bailey decides on a classic burger and a grilled chicken sandwich), we settle down in a cozy booth and talk about the points in their careers where Fellow Travelers found the actors, the hard-won representation Hollywood’s queer community has been fighting for for decades, and the LGBTQ+ talents of color they’d like to support on their own projects.

Bomer, of course, has been famous since the early 2010s, when he became a star on the series White Collar, and along with Neil Patrick Harris, proved that openly gay actors could become leading men. Since then, he’s conquered Broadway (The Boys in the Band), won a slew of awards (Golden Globe and Critic's Choice trophies for The Normal Heart) and become a producer and director.

In the past, Bomer has discussed the way doors closed on him even as he was being celebrated for being an out gay actor. When asked about that now, he says, “I choose just to never look back in anger about anything. Ultimately, my career is a lot richer because I decided to be open with who I am.”

“It’s a wave of progress that Matt's been surfing and is at the front of,” says Bailey. “And it's been a real honor to be able to get on my boogie board next to him.”

Before he became a global star mid-pandemic playing the grumpy, furry-chested Anthony Bridgerton on the Netflix juggernaut Bridgerton, Bailey was an award-winning actor in both the West End and British television. Huge fame didn’t find Bailey until his early 30s, so when it did, he had a clear idea of what he wanted to accomplish with his platform.

“I feel the responsibility immeasurably,” Bailey says. “I get it when people are saying you create a chair and bring people [to the table].” He talks about the connection between the civil rights movement and the queer liberation. “The Black queens are the ones who really started to fight,” he says. “It's amazing to feel politically activated. And if there's any project to do that, it's going to be Fellow Travelers. It will change the way I see myself in and the world I live in.”

The intersectionality makes the story Travelers is trying to tell even richer—most of all in Alladin’s scene-stealing portrayal of the conflicted Marcus Hooks, a pioneering Black journalist who pushes against segregation as he grapples with his own sexuality. “When I look at older men today, I'm like, You guys have endured so much,” Aladdin says. “From the Second World War all the way through to the AIDS crisis, it was nonstop life crisis after life crisis. To have been able to survive through all that, there needs to be a real, solid weight on the feet of [these characters].”

Part of the pleasure of watching Fellow Travelers is picking up on the cinematic references hidden in each scene. Hawk and Tim’s first interactions evoke the forbidden affair in David Lean’s 1945 classic Brief Encounter. When Hawk’s family settles in suburbia, the show evokes the Technicolor repression of the great Douglas Sirk melodramas. When Hawk and Tim run through the beaches of Fire Island in the ‘70s, that iconic image of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing on the beach in From Here to Eternity may flicker in your mind. And in some ways, the series plays like a gayer, hornier The Way We Were—an epic love story tossed on the tides of political change. (In this version, of course, the Barbra Streisand character is an eager foot-licking sub and Redford’s Hubbell Gardiner is a daddy with a pit fetish.) Fellow Travelers allows us to imagine an alternate timeline where queer love has always gotten as much screen time as cinema’s great heterosexual romances, giving other kinds of stories the chance at celluloid immortality too.

In the book, Hawk is described as being more handsome than Gregory Peck. But seeing Bomer in period-appropriate clothing, the Old Hollywood leading man I thought of was Montgomery Clift, the talented and ultimately tragic gay actor who starred in classics like Red River and A Place in the Sun. For a time in the mid 2010s, Bomer was attached to star in a Montgomery Clift biopic for HBO, to be directed by the great gay director Ira Sachs. “Ira is a genius,” Bomer says. “[But] I think that ship may have sailed.”

Still, when I press him about doing it in the future, he lights up. “You know, I’m [now] the same age Monty was when he passed away,” Bomer says. “I always thought it'd be really interesting to do a play about the last night of his life, when he's watching one of his old movies on TV. And he had this man who lived with him and took care of him for the last chapter of his life.There's an interesting play in there somewhere…. Maybe Liz Taylor swings by.”

What’s changed since the mid 2010s is that a lot of Hollywood’s current gatekeepers are queer people who were fighting from the bottom a decade ago. “It's the people, the gatekeepers who are now going, ‘We are going to make this [queer] story,’” Bailey says. “This narrative that gay people have to be closeted in order [for a project] to be commercial and in order for things to be interesting to people—it's been dismantled. But it's slow because it's not just straight people who think that—I think everyone believed that in the system of Hollywood.”

Nyswaner, who has been working in Hollywood since the early ‘80s, has seen that shift up close. “When I grew up in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, I never heard the word ‘homosexual’ spoken aloud,” he says. “There was no conversation that I ever had with anybody about homosexuality. It was not just bad, it was the unspeakable thing—that's how terrified people were of us.”

And while he agrees that, in some ways, it feels like the LGBTQ+ community is once again losing ground on some rights, Nyswaner refuses to accept that there hasn’t been change. “Sometimes I hear people say, ‘Well, we haven't gotten anywhere.’ And I'm here to say, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’ Because actually you can turn on the television and find gay characters.”

Fellow Travelers is the culmination of a dream for a number of the men involved in the series.

“When I met Ron, he was talking about how he thinks about this as his lifelong legacy project,” Bailey says. “And I just said to him, ‘Whoever ends up going on this journey with you, I think it'll be the same [for them] probably.’”

“In some ways, Fellow Travelers is a span of my life,” Ron Nyswaner says. “I was an infant in the McCarthy era. And then I came out of the closet in 1978 and just danced and did cocaine and had multiple sexual partners—we didn't know what was coming, which was the AIDS crisis.” Nyswaner was nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Oscar in 1993 for Philadelphia, the landmark drama about an AIDS patient who sues his employers for AIDS discrimination. In a way, the historical span of Fellow Travelers gives the battles fought in Philadelphia their context.

Rogers remembers being a closeted soccer player in the late 2000s, watching Tom Ford’s A Single Man and hoping one day to be able to find love and take control of his own narrative. And Bailey recalls, post-Bridgerton, realizing that he could suddenly write his own destiny and vowing to seek out “a sweeping gay love story.”

Bomer, meanwhile, says—laughing, but seemingly dead serious—that it’s his goal to play a queer character from every decade of the 20th century. “A queer Decalogue,” he says, referencing the Krzysztof Kieślowski classic.

Bomer’s next project might just help him do that. He’s currently producing a Steven Soderbergh film on Lawrence v. Texas, the case that overturned the sodomy laws in Texas in 2003 but started in the 90s.

There are many more stories to tell. And as our interview winds down, Bomer and Bailey start spitballing dream projects.

We talk about All of Us Strangers director Andrew Haigh, who’s revered for his portraits of gay intimacy. “Andrew Haigh has been a special filmmaker for years,” Bailey says. “I think [his film] Weekend informed actually how I approached the sex scenes in [Fellow Travelers].”

“I’d love to play Jessica Fletcher's queer grandson who moves back to Cabot Cove,” Bomer says, referencing Angela Lansbury’s iconic role in Murder, She Wrote. “He's inherited her house and he finds an old journal in her library, and it's a case she never saw and he takes up her mantle.”

And moments before the restaurant speakers suddenly start blaring George Michael’s “Freedom ’90,” Bailey comes in with a killer pitch: “I’m obsessed with the Sacred Band of Thebes, an army of 300 gay lovers in [ancient] Greece. They partnered in pairs, this gay army, and they overthrew a Spartan army… I want to do that as a comedy.”

“Oh hell yes!” Bomer says.

“Just get all the queer actors together,” Bailey says, laughing.

“Lee Pace, everyone,” Bomer says.

“Where would we film it?” Bailey asks.

“Mykonos?” Bomer suggests.

“Flaming Saddles, down the road,” Bailey counters with a chuckle, referring to a gay bar in midtown.

“Oil us up and let’s go!” Bomer says.

Source

#fellow travelers #jonathan bailey #matt bomer #jelani alladin #ron nyswaner #interviews #interviews:2023 #GQ hype interview 2023 #NEW!

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dorianroark · 24 days

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Photo #6 from Madame Tussaud Washington DC tribute: The King of Pop, Michael Jackson

#photography #washington dc #michael jackson #madame tussauds #house of wax #statues

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discord-lurking · 4 months

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Dungeons and Daddies Wiki Drama: A Greek Tragedy Told through the Medium of Forum Posts (Part 2)

Act 2: The Wax Melts, The Sea Beckons

In which the wings begin to fall apart.

Despite the drama unfolding over the November admin discussion post, wiki life continued. User posts showed cracks in the foundation. Something was rotten in the state of Wikia.

November 6th, 2023:

November 9th, 2023:

It seems that the administrators were deleting pages, instituting rigid new rules about how long a post could stay unfinished (and, apparently, what qualified as unfinished).

Enter anonymous wiki user Chekovsnakess.

November 23rd, 2023:

Chekovsnakess pointed out the issue inherent in the deletions- moderators wanted more people to engage with the wiki, but what's the point, when the page will get nuked?

Chekovsnakess: "The wiki feels more of the admins' wiki rather than a community wiki."

The admins didn't take well to this critique.

TwoRatner: "In no way have we, the admins, been hostile."

TheOneTrueGod41: "It can't be unprofessional if we absolutely mean it."

PawnSum: "Uh, you can't type fast or something? I can, so that shouldn't be a problem."

Also, iconic quote from PawnSum: "I literally broke my ankle and couldn't get home, so I understand what pain is."

PawnSum makes a good point- only they, a wiki editor experiencing mild criticism and a broken ankle, could ever understand true pain.

Opening a paragraph with "you also don't seem to understand that your opinions aren't facts" and closing it with "Please stop leaving and just stay!"

A masterpiece of salesmanship. Glenn and his high Persuasion rolls could only hope to reach the levels of charisma displayed by wiki administrator TwoRatner.

Other iconic TwoRatner quotes:

"Admins are like princiPALS after all, or a nice janitor."

"You want me to quick my job? I can't! I already paid for the funeral and now I need more money to feed my family."

After this, Chekovsnakess remained silent, perhaps choosing to disengage from fandom wiki drama and move on with their life. An unthinkable choice, to be sure.

More users turned to the forums to express frustrations with the wiki, falling on the administrator's deaf ears.

November 29th, 2023:

December 3rd, 2023:

With this, we segue to the moderator response to wiki user critiques: splitting the wiki into two websites with separate mod teams, one for season 1 of the podcast and one for season 2.

In haunting Anakin-like fashion, TwoRatner says "I promise to bring about a satisfying future to this wiki." A promise they would be unable to live up to.

December 2nd, 2023:

TwoRatner's attempt to bring peace to their new empire wiki would first involve mysterious user Largeo and a separation on par with the Great Church Schism of 1054. Equally important decisions with equally worldwide consequences.

TwoRatner made the generous decision to put this up for a community vote, with only one dissenter: Zilstreet.

Zilstreet pointed out the obvious criticism: wouldn't splitting a wiki for a single show between two different places make it confusing for casual browsers? What about characters that appear in both seasons? Was there a specific game plan?

This was met with a measured, thoughtful response from the administrators.

"When life gives you grapefruit, you make grapefruit pellets to shoot at your friends, because plastic pellets hurt." -HungerBunger, December 5th 2023

How dare Zilstreet not take into account HungerBunger's trauma and exercises in extending trust???

"It's very obvious. We clearly thought about this."

Indeed.

More users with suspiciously similar speech patterns chime in to support TwoRatner's proposal.

Interestingly, MotPot brings up jazz unprompted. Where have we seen that before? Honic Washington and The One True God 41, in Part 1.

Clearly, there must be a lot of overlap between jazz fans and D&D podcast wiki editors.

Marth8204 came out swinging, telling Zilstreet that they should be ashamed for having the audacity to ask questions about a drastic site change, but seemed pacified by TwoRatner's warning to "tone it down a bit."

TwoRatner imposed a deadline for users to vote on the change.

FunderStun also came out swinging- this time, against Gaycowboyrats (featured in Part 1) and... Amber Heard? Then they delivered this line: "There is no savior, so we have to be."

Again, poetry.

And again, I'd like to put a pin in the Gaycowboyrats reference.

Thus ended the split discussion thread, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Nicoh Watonshing seems to be referring to wiki security breaches. Was this an ongoing issue? Were admins getting hacked? If so, by whom? What could hackers possibly want from the wiki?

What happened between Brazil86 and TwoMarshall? What did Brazil86 do wrong? Are there any words in the English language that can strike as much fear in one's heart as "abnormally long Discord call"?

Note the TwoMarshall brother reference: this is very similar to references made by TwoRatner to a brother that died. How coincidental.

This period of forum volatility closely follows the themes established in Act 1: a strict, opaque sense of wiki justice, wiki moderator power as a status more important than wiki functionality, calling for more community engagement while largely ignoring community engagement when it happened, and making drastic changes in response to real or perceived wiki problems.

Here, we see more new administrator names pop up in the forums with similar styles of speech and occasional non-sequiturs, even after Honic Washington's (apparent) departure.

Here, we see new discontent in the moderator ranks- some apparent failure by Brazil86, and its severe consequences with TwoMarshall.

Here, we see two moderators (TwoRatner and TwoMarshall) with similar brother-related situations. Did TwoRatner switch accounts? Was this related to the alleged security breaches in the wiki?

Despite being active in the forums and wiki at large before this, Gaycowboyrats is now conspicuously absent except for the reference by FunderStun, who wants to remove Gaycowboyrats from his position of influence and "free" the fandom.

Has the Dungeons and Daddies wiki been subject to some kind of administrator security breach and subsequent overthrow, resulting in a schism?

Life seems to be giving this wiki a lot of grapefruit.

And when life gives you grapefuit, you make grapefruit pellets to shoot your friends.

Chorus:

A statement from Zil Street.

Interim attempts at community engagement by the administrators.

Stay tuned for part 3 tomorrow with the thrilling conclusion of the wiki split saga!

#dungeons and daddies

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rom-e-o · 8 months

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Among the Leaves (NSFW)(Constance/Ebenezer fic)

Fall is here. A themed drabble is in order.

Ebenezer takes his first ever 'holiday' off of work and goes to the English countryside with Constance. Without the prying eyes of coworkers and family, the two use the opportunity to catch up on quality time.

This is an explicit, 18+ story. Minors, I ask that you DO NOT INTERACT.

The story is under the cut. Enjoy!

The sweltering London heat finally boiled over in early September. By the third week of the month, the leaves were golden and the air held a telltale crispness.

Gentle zephyrs that smelled of cinnamon and apples funneled down the country roads, each one gentle enough to send petticoats and top hats for those who weren’t cautious.

Constance adored windy weather. It allowed her unbound hair to whip about and blow freely, a sensation she found liberating and cleansing. Her dress, low-cut and made of spearmint linen, danced around her legs with every step, adding to the delight. Ebenezer, dressed in breeches and a simple white shirt, walked alongside her with a chipper gait. In the rolling hills outside the city limits, they were anonymous. Not a banker and socialite – not a scandal for retired folk to gossip about over tea. They were just another couple, stealing embraces and lingering glances, amidst the red and ember-colored trees.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” Constance said, looking around the golden fields that seemed to stretch in every direction.

“Yes, it’s a different world from the city,” Ebenezer agreed. He looked more handsome than usual, she thought, with his hair slightly windblown and his face lit with golden light. He had an almost boyish glow that she hadn’t seen around him yet, thanks to the city’s low ceilings and reliance on gas lamps.

As if reading her mind, he closed he eyes and basked in the autumnal calm. Tipping his head back, he inhaled slowly. “Serene. Quiet.”

Her cloak danced upon her heels with every spritely step, the tassels heavy enough to crunch the deadened leaves that her heels boots missed.

“It reminds me of home.” Her voice was almost ghostly, as if she was uneager to disturb the quiet that enveloped them.

“New York?”

“Yes,” she said,” Oh, don’t get me wrong, London is beautiful in the winter. But…New York in fall. Tarrytown. Hudson Valley. It’s something transcendental.”

“I believe you,” he said, taking moving his hand from her elbow to twine their fingers. “Washington Irving waxes beautiful stories of the area."

“Oh! You’ve read Irving?”

“I hadn’t before I met you,” he confided somewhat shyly, “But once we started courting, I wanted to know everyone I could about where you came from.”

The woman found herself grinning in pure excitement at the romantic confession. He’d kept that venture a secret from her.

He continued, albeit somewhat bashfully, “I found his works in a local bookshop. They are…quite popular this time of year, and it makes sense – the Dutch settlements. Fields of fragrant grain. The orchards. Throwing cinnamon chips atop crackling tavern fires. Lovers walking together on foggy nights amidst the gravestones. It’s all very autumnal and American …delightfully so.”

She flushed and nodded. “Yes. That last one is particularly dangerous, I must say.”

The two were a mere half-mile away from their temporary abode for the coming weekend. It was a small cabin with a hitching post for the horse and a small well out front. It was a comfortable lodge, and in the British countryside, finding their way back would not be difficult. Nonetheless, being out too late would be unwise, and both knew it.

“I can see why,” he agreed. “The stories and legends of the American wilderness are exciting enough for me, thank you very much. I’ll leave its true secrets to those knowledgeable enough to keep them. The prospect of getting spirited away by some ghostly Hessian soldier is, frankly, not an experience I’d like to entertain with you, dear. No offense.”

“Erudite and logical,” Constance teased. “None taken. I have no intention of getting spirited away on this very lovely afternoon. I quite like your company.”

He chuckled. “A very agreeable statement, my dear.”

Pausing momentarily, he snuck a quick look over his shoulder to peek at the road behind them. He squinted his icy eyes, as if trying to peer into the distance as much as possible. The moment Constance observed this behavior and tried to follow his gaze, he turned back her with a smirk. With the gentlest of shoves, he nudged her against an oak tree off the path until her back was flush with the bark.

There, he kissed her hard, tipping her head back so their mouths could meet fully. She reciprocated eagerly, hands roaming up his band, fingertips pressing into his back and through the flimsy material of his shirt.

She tugged the fabric tucked into his breeches free so she could slip her hands beneath the material and caress the skin of his bare back. Flanks of long, lean muscle met her eager fingertips. His towering, 6-foot-4 frame was impressive and weighty against her, but not in an unpleasantly smothering way.

As she did that, Ebenezer rolled his hips against hers, earning a thankful moan in return. He reached down to lift one of her shapely legs and wrap it around his waist. After it was secured, his hand skimmed up her skirts and past the edge of her stocking, exploring the tops of her thighs. Her skin quickly warmed under his skilled touch.

“Ebenezer…” she husked, eyes glassy as their kiss became more physical. Their bodies swayed and rutted together until even the flimsy barrier of their thin clothes was too much to bear.

He pulled back long enough to ask a breathless question, resting his forehead against hers. “D-Do you want to…”

Connie nodded eagerly, the heat in her lower belly too persistent to ignore. “We can use my cloak.”

Their hands tangled and they darted into the woods like excited teenagers. It took a few moments to find a clearing that was concealed by trees but was even enough for them to sprawl upon.

Ebenezer carefully unlaced the cloak from her freckled shoulders before laying it on the ground, smoothing it like one might do with a blanket before a picnic. Once he was satisfied, he turned around to see the pleasant sight of Constance already unfastening her dress.

When the fabric pooled around her ankles, she took great pleasure in drinking in the amorous expression on his face. The glow from before was this present, softening his features even further. With deliberate slowness, she slipped her hands over her ample breasts and down her corset, nails pulling and tugging the laces until she could remove it, her smalls and her stockings in one motion. The entire time, he never broke her gaze away from his.

When she rose again, Ebenezer’s gaze smoldered like twin diamonds.

“My gods,” he breathed, standing slowly and moving to her. He took her bare hips in his rough hands and pulled her close. “Look at you.”

She shuffled under his gaze, hands drifting behind her back.

“What about me?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head so her copper pooled over one shoulder.

“Bathed in this golden light…you’re like a sun goddess,” he breathed, his breath unsteady as his grip upon her tightened. “My goddess.”

The possessive lilt to his voice made her swoon, and she was suddenly very thankful for his arms being there to hold her.

“Well, Mr. Scrooge, don’t keep a goddess waiting,” she tried to tease, but her voice vacillated too much to sound as coquettish as she desired. They’d done this routine of teasing and flirting many times, yet her blood pounded with excitement as if it was their first time.

Judging by her lover’s matching smirk, he felt similar. “Mm. Eager, are we?”

“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly to leave me standing alone and nude without company,” she reasoned, crossing her hands over her breasts for playful emphasis.

This made his chest rumble, laughter as warm as summer thunder thumbling forth.

“You have a very unique idea of what a gentleman should do,” he said.

Despite his vague reply, he didn’t hesitate un unlacing the remainder of his shirt and tossing it aside. The action tousled his hair further, and as he pushed the silver-straked coif off his face, she was struck yet again by how damnably handsome he was. With his lean muscle from years of survival to his broad chest, covered in a spelt of salt-and-pepper hair, he was nothing short of a human Adonis. Then there was his face ... maker, his face. A strong Roman nose and sculpted cheekbones that could cut diamonds, nothing was as incredible to her was his icy-blue eyes. They glittered like mica in instances like this, when he stared at her as if she was the most precious being to him in the world.

It was her turn to ogle him as he unlaced his breeches and kicked them off him his socks and shoes.

He was all long-legged, toned glory. A trail of dark hair ran from his chest and down his belly, all the way to the reddened erection between his legs. His cock was already half-mast, heavy with arousal against his thigh, a clear pearl of liquid appearing at the top. She wetted her lips at the sight, suddenly desperate to take him into her mouth.

However, this occasion wasn’t the time for the lengthy foreplay that both could stretch on for hours. They had to be fast, less they be discovered by some unsuspecting travelers or merchants off the road. That scandal would follow them back to London easily.

With urgency that bordered on primal, Ebenezer closed the distance between them and wrapped two strong arms around her. She followed his lead, feeling him dip her into a kiss that forced her to cling onto him to prevent her from toppling over. The effect made their bellies and chests rub together. Her breasts, already heavy with desire, practically burned as his chair hair scrubbed her nipples.

Ebenezer lowered them both onto the cloak, with Constance laying supine beneath him.

They continued to kiss, moaning ang gasping as their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Relief flooded her when his hands finally lifted to her breasts and gave them a squeeze, helping to ebb some of the tension she’d felt buzzing in her nerves.

Arching her back into his hands, she was rewarded for her keening with the swipe of his deft tongue across the sensitive tips. She cried out from the pleasant combination of warmth and wetness. Her legs opened without a thought, already seeking his familiar girth to fill her and bring her to the edge of ecstasy.

After savoring the womanly musk of her breasts, he kissed a path down her stomach, hands moving down to cup her ass. With a hand on each cheek, he began to massage the flesh in circles, easing her body open further and further.

“E-Ebenezer, please, just…”

“Not yet,” he replied, kissing her belly button. Gods, she could feel his breath against her quim, already hot and eager and dripping for him.

She bit back a moan of frustration, for she knew that the delay of pleasure was all for a good reason.

Ebenezer was many things, but among the long list, he wasn’t a selfish lover. When it came to making sure his woman was satisfied, he wanted to know when he finally slid into her that she was wet and ready for him. Friction would be smooth, and his approach would be slow until he found that perfect spot inside her that milked the prettiest trembles and screams. Then, and only then, would he ferociously pick up the pace and drive into her, making sure to tilt his hips at the angle that kept her screaming for more.

Even when they’d first laid together, knowing she wasn’t a virgin, he’d treated her as such. He carried her to bed, taken her clothes off, kissed her slowly, savored the taste of her clit against his tongue … all of it to make sure that she was trembling and aching for him by the time they could finally come together in a moment of glory.

“I’m ready,” Constance said, hips lifting off the cloak and swaying. “Oh, please…love, please…”

Ebenezer was weak to her pleading, especially when she called him pet names.

“F—uck, do you have any idea how you look when we're together like this?” he whispered, moving his lips back up her sternum so he could whisper in her ear. “Once we get back to the cabin, I’m throwing you on that bed and making love to you until you can’t walk.”

She moaned loudly, her entire head tipping back at the sound of his promise. “Oh, please…yes!”

“Another beautiful sound,” he said, lips caressing her forehead as he placed a kiss right between her brows. ‘You, begging for me. It’s so hard to not give you what you want…”

“Please, Ebenezer!” she practically wept. Lifting a leg, she shakily wrapped it around his waist to bring his hips down. Feeling his tip right of her entrance, pressing inside slightly, made both release a collective sigh of yearning.

“A-Are you certain?” he stuttered.

She nodded. “Yes.”

With a roll of the hips, he slid inside, and … it was perfection. His cock filled her so perfectly. He wasn’t too big or too small. He knew when to speed up his pace, and when to slow down and keep her teetering on the edge. Best of all, he knew her body and knew what made her scream.

When he bucked his hips and arced right into the spongy G-spot on the roof of her sheath, her entire body went as taut as if she’d been seared by electrocution.

“Y-Yes, right there!” she begged. Her other leg shot up to cradle his body, his narrow hips fitting perfectly between her trembling thighs.

Platitudes fell from her lips as he continued his steady rhythm. With one hand supporting her lower back so he didn’t drive her too hard into the ground, he rutted into her with the same desire he felt the first time they’d slept together.

The entire time, he whispered comments into her ear: about her beauty, about how good she felt, about how lucky he was to share these moments with her. For a man who fancied numbers more than words, he was an incredible poet.

When she finally came crashed down from her high a minute later, her spine kinked and she dug her nails into his skin. He growled in pleasure, a smirk never leaving his visage as he watched her beautiful features spasm in bliss.

“There we go,” he commended, hands combing through her coppery strands. “That’s a good girl. Just like that.”

Tears in her eyes from the power of her orgasm, she let out one last cry as she felt her body close around his cock like a hot fist.

As he went to pull out and finish outside of her, she kept her legs locked around his waist, keeping him in place.

“S-Stay inside…” she begged, hands flying to squeeze his shoulders. “Finish in me.”

His eyes softened instantly, then glazed with the telltale signs of happiness. “M-My Constance, a-are you…are you sure?”

Again, she nodded. “I’ve never been more certain.”

This certainly of her love for him and confidence in him as a potential father to her children…it was too much. His brow furrowed as a surge of pleasure shot through him, and he shifted his angle to thrust back inside her.

Constance let Ebenezer move her body as needed to find the perfect angle that would apply to best pressure to his cock. Once he found it, she saw his eyes practically roll back.

“I-I love you…” he stuttered, already breathless after just two thrusts. On the third, he laughed and practically collapsed. “Connie, I love you so, so much.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with each beautiful declaration. “I love you, Ebenezer…my Ebenezer…”

The last of his restraint snapped, and with a growl, he shuddered and filled her with a hefty load of his seed. He frantically pumped his cock as deep as he could, filling her until droplets seeped onto the cloak below, before he let out an exhausted sigh.

He slumped beside her, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and forehead. Wiping the moisture away, he rallied himself for only a moment before he rolled atop her and kissed her again.

“You’re my radiance, my map to grace…” he said, rambling breathlessly. “I-I…could not be without you. I’m sure of that.”

It was a somber declaration, and it made her ribs go soft.

“I can’t be without you, either,” she said. “I’ll make sure we’re never apart. I never want to be taken from you.”

“I would perish before allowing that,” he whispered. Again, he reached down and twined their fingers.

Constance smiled and rolled into his embrace. She wrapped the cloak around them as a partial blanket for the moment.

“Well, perhaps we should hurry back then,” she teased. “We don’t want the ghosts to come out, right?”

He flattened his chest so she could use it as a pillow, which she greatly appreciated. As she nestled herself into place with a smile, he rolled his eyes.

“If there were any specters lurking in the trees, I’m quite certain we scared them off,” he said. Then, a beat later, he added, “Or … I hope.”

Constance giggled. “I hear no rattling chains.”

“Don't tease.”

She giggled and glanced up at him.

“I won’t let the ghosts take you away,” she promised. “After all …”

A hand drifted to her belly.

“Who knows what the future has in store?”

The two decided to stay in each other’s arms as they drank in the sunset in each other’s arms. With each passing minute, Scrooge dropped another tender kiss upon her, never wanting to let her go.

Thankfully, as long as the world around them stayed as calm and tranquil as this…he would never have to.

Tag list: @quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge a christmas carol #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

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