*guy who doesn't know anything about sports and has never cared about sports in his life* hey did you know womens professional baseball is returning after 70 years and the games are going to be streamed for free on youtube and the season starts august 1st
I think this is so cool and it's awesome they're streaming games for free! I also think it's incredible that this picture is the one they used to advertise the opening day. It's like those videos where someone threatens the camera while their partner shows off their collection of rocks they found.
oh my goddddd, i told myself i wasn't allowed to write anything new until i finished the out of control fic i've been working on for an actual year but then i thought... why am i allowing myself to be stifled by such arbitrary (and self-imposed) rules?!
so here's a fic for @crash-that-helicopter-week that i wrote super quickly and finished JUST IN TIME.
and i'm calling this 3.3k fic 'just in time' for now because i can't think of a title!!!
E N J O Y !
🚁🌷💥
'I think Evan's cheating on me.' Tommy licks a glob of chocolate icing off his thumb. His teeth twinge from the sweetness, a sure sign that they're oversensitive from clenching them at nighttime. Across from him Lucy rocks on the back legs of her chair with one polished boot pressed against the edge of their table. She stares at Tommy and chews her donut for an unnervingly long time. 'Are you having some kind of medical crisis or —'
'Are you?' Lucy pops her foot free and her chair launches forward, steel feet and legs grating when they hit the floor. 'You think the guy who looks at you like this —' Lucy rests her chin on her knuckles and flutters his eyelids — 'for making him a sandwich is… letting someone else butter his bread?'
'We don't have to discuss this using food metaphors, you know, I've really been working on my communication skills —'
'Not enough if you're coming to me with this instead of asking him directly.' Lucy sighs. Her hand hovers above the box of donuts, her perfectly manicured fingers dancing as she tries to choose between a strawberry glazed or cookie crumble delight. 'What's he doing?' She plucks the strawberry donut from the box and smiles at it lovingly. 'Or not doing?'
Tommy's not a weak man, but he's not strong enough to deny himself another emotional support sweet treat, especially not when they've been made by Evan's own fair hands. 'One: he's been churning out baked goods like nobody's business but I'm not seeing most of them. So where are they going?'
'Here?'
'Some of them are, but where are the rest?' Tommy shoves half the donut in his mouth and god, the Oreo crumble and whipped topping is exquisite. 'Two: he's been going to his knitting circle but he never comes home with any knitting.'
'Aww, do you think he's making socks for someone else's cold feet?'
'Thirdly; he's just being… weird. Cagey. I dunno. He always seems to have somewhere to be that isn't with me.'
'Sounding a little possessive there, Kinard.'
Tommy scoffs, offended. 'I am not possessive.' Lucy scrunches her face up. 'I'm not!'
'Whatever you say, boss.'
'Not your boss,' he says, and then in unison they say, 'not yet, anyway,' because Tommy knows it's coming and that Lucy's already stockpiling as many jokes and retorts as she possibly can.
Lucy nudges Tommy's ankle with her boot. 'Just put on your big boy pants and ask him, Tommy. Kinda seems like he's grown up a lot since I first met him. He's not like… that anymore.'
Alarm bells go off in Tommy head, and in the hangar, too. 'Like what?'
'Saved by the bell, whaddya know?'
'Luce,' Tommy yells, because Lucy's already bolted for the stairs, 'like what?'
'Sorry!' she yells back, pointing at her ears and shrugging.
Tommy thinks about it for the rest of the day, and most of the night, too. He and Evan miss each other by a couple of hours when Tommy finishes his shift late and Evan goes in for his early. Tucked up in their bed later that night, Tommy replays a voice note Evan left him. It's almost six minutes long, but Tommy replays it at 1x speed anyway and hopes with everything inside that no one else is getting a rundown of everything Evan did since waking up.
*
There's nothing suspicious about Evan taking a phone call in the another room, per se, but what is suspicious is the way Evan quickly untangles himself from Tommy's arm while they're watching a movie on a Saturday afternoon and shuts himself in their bedroom after answering it. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. Maybe he is a little possessive. So what? It's Sunday, it's September, it's pouring with rain and it's the first weekend in what feels like months that neither of them have any responsibilities beyond performing basic human functions.
Evan's voice carries. The bassy tone of his hmms and yeahs vibrates through the walls and the floors and Tommy strains to make out the words. Even when he can decipher odd word it sounds like Evan's talking in code, and it sucks to hear him laugh and not be in on the joke.
Maybe he's the joke? He's starting to feel like it.
He texts Lucy and gives her the lowdown and and receives a JUST TALK TO HIM!!!!!! in response. His phone gets shoved into the couch cushions instead of launched across the room, and he waits for Evan to bounce down the stairs and into fall into his reserved place back under his arm.
Evan comes down the stairs with a spring in his step. 'Sorry, sorry!' It's the brightest apology Tommy's heard since Tommy found Evan bathing a crusty-eyed kitten he found on the side of the road in their kitchen sink. The kitchen was flooded, and Evan looked like he'd won a wet t-shirt contest. They named her Chancy. The little traitor's been upstairs the whole time, no doubt curling around Evan's feet and purring while she kept him company. She follows dutifully behind Evan as he jumps off the last step and falls back onto the couch.
'Everything ok?' Tommy keeps it light and full of genuine curiosity. He pats his leg and Chancy pounces, choosing instead to settle between them.
'Not really,' Evan says and oh, that's not what Tommy was expecting. 'Barb's husband Ernie — you know Barb from my knitting group - isn't feeling too good.'
'And she called you why?' Tommy winces. Evan snaps his head towards him so hard Tommy's surprised there isn't an audible crack. 'No, I mean, shouldn't she call his doctor?'
'Oh, um, yeah. Y-yeah she will. It's just… we've been working on a big project together and she's worried about letting us down.'
'What's the project?' There's the lightness again. The exaggerated curiosity.
'It's top secret.' Evan winks and look, Tommy usually loves when Evan throws him a wink across a room or after whispering something in his ear that makes all the blood rush to his cheeks, but tonight he can't hide the way his face twists up in disbelief, all the years of damage and doubt clouding his ability to believe the evidence he's been collecting leads to more than one conclusion. 'Tommy, what's happening here? What's wrong?'
Tommy read somewhere that petting a cat can reduce your heart rate and blood pressure and today Chancy's fulfilling her duty as Tommy's resident stress ball. He gives her firm, long strokes. Her ears and eyes pull back with every pet, her purr is bordering on aggressive. Usually Tommy would unhook her needlepoint claws from his jeans but tonight he probably thinks he deserves some pain for asking — 'Evan… is there someone else?'
'Someone else where? Here?' Evan's eyes narrow in confusion and then widen in realisation. 'Wait, are you asking me if I'm cheating on you?'
Dead silence, just the sound of Chancy having the time of her life and Tommy's heartbeat pounding in his ears. Tommy lifts his head, tries to hold onto his pride. 'I guess I am.'
It's like the worst morning after of Tommy's life all over again and there's nowhere for Tommy to run to. They have a shared calendar app now; Evan knows every shift and event weeks in advance.
Tommy's still growing, but unfortunately so is a horrible weed of doubt that he just can't kill. When he forgets to pull it up at the root, it twists around everything good inside of him. He braces himself for the outrage, the distress, and the inevitability of hating himself for making Evan feel like shit.
Evan breaking out into genuine laughter is not what he's expecting at all. Not even in his top 10, if he's being honest. Chancy hooks her claws into Tommy's thigh and propels herself from the couch. Tommy's the one to hiss as she flees the scene, and Evan says, 'Sorry,' and thumbs a tear from the corner of his eye. 'C'mon Tommy, we both know I like 'em older but you're the only senior citizen for me.'
'I'm not the one in a knitting circle!'
'Well maybe you should be.' Evan grabs Tommy's hand and pulls him in. 'Seriously, what's going on with you?'
In plain language, like the kind he uses to write his reports, Tommy runs through everything that's been worrying him. He sticks to the facts and observations, all the things that he's been turning over in his head come out in neat little bullet points for Evan to digest. When he reaches the end he pauses, and takes a deep breath. Now that everything's out in the open he realises he never once consulted his heart, and he tells Evan so.
'And what does your heart say?'
'That I'm an idiot.' Evan gives Tommy the face, and Tommy forces himself to meet Evan's eyes. 'My heart knows you would never, and that I'm an idiot for reading into what other people say.'
'What do you mean?'
'It's stupid,' Tommy says indifferently, but Evan's interest is piqued and there's no escape now. 'It was just something Lucy said.'
Evan stiffens, and then it's Tommy's turn to coax the truth out of him. Evan explains in a rush of words, fighting to get them out before he's physically restrained by some unknown force and Lucy, really?
Laughter rolls out of Tommy, his whole body shaking the tension loose. Evan pushes his arm playfully and whines for Tommy to shut up. 'Make me,' Tommy says, still laughing, and pulls Evan on top of him.
With the air clear, their combined weight and need sinks them deeper into the couch. Tommy rests his hands on the soft curve of Evan's hips as his body rises and falls. Whatever worries Tommy had are lost in the taste of Evan's mouth, and the sharp buzz of Evan gripping his hair by its roots.
*
It's a perfect Thursday in November. Harbour's qui — Harbour's had zero calls to action today which is great news for Tommy because he's been wanting to detail the interior of one of their Bell 505's for days. Who the hell eats a bag of chips while at the controls, anyway? Tommy's going to find out as soon as he buffs the grease marks out of the control panel.
Robert Plant's voice echoes across the hangar and Tommy takes a moment to air drum his frustration away after he brushes away a collection of crumbs from the footwell. Lucy's urgent footsteps barely register until she's banging on the cockpit door.
'Where's the fire?' he asks without looking away from his work.
'Get on the radio now.' Tommy's not slow to move, but he's not falling in step quick enough for Lucy's liking. 'Now. It's Buck.'
'Why's Evan radioing the station? Oh, he's gonna be pissed if he smashed his phone screen again —'
'Tommy just…' There's something in Lucy's eyes. Something Tommy doesn't like at all.
'What's going on?' He's already five steps ahead of her as she tries to play down whatever has her so rattled. At the comms unit, Tommy tightens his hand around the speaker mic and pushes the button. As smooth as he can manage, he says, 'Evan, this is an open channel.'
Evan's laugh is strained and tinny through the speaker, and Tommy knows the sound of a rotor as well as he knows his own voice. 'I lied when I said I wasn't cheating on you.'
'Again, open channel. What are you talking about?'
'I've been taking flying lessons from someone who isn't you. I'm sorry.'
'O…k,' Tommy says, because it's absurd that Evan would class that as cheating even though it stings a little to think Tommy wasn't the one to give Evan his wings. 'That's not… I mean, that's ok.'
'The engine's been um, kinda cutting out and uh, I can smell smoke and my instructor Ernie he's — I can't find a pulse, Tommy.'
Tommy's stomach churns. 'You really buried the lede on that one, kid.' Tommy blows a breath out through his pursed lips. 'Tell me everything,' he says, and switches to a headset. 'Where are you now?'
'Somewhere over Solstice Canyon. I was gonna surprise you —'
'You succeeded. Give me your coordinates.' Evan rattles them off quickly and Tommy scrawls them on a piece of paper. Lucy rips it off the pad before Tommy's pen leaves the paper. 'What are you doing?' he hisses, and tries to snatch the paper back.
'If his engine dies right now got about thirty seconds, a minute tops. You really want me to be the one who stays here on the radio with him while you get ready to go?' Lucy reaches out and touches Tommy's arm gently which, historically, has never been a good sign. They stare each other down for more seconds than they have before Tommy accepts the inevitable.
'Lucy and Wheeler are coming to you right now.' Tommy snaps his fingers and points Lucy towards the tarmac. 'I'm going to talk you through putting her down, ok?' A great whoosh and mechanical whirr of the rotor screams over the radio. 'I can hear her struggling. You need to find the flattest clearing you can and aim for it. Just take it easy; you don't want to overshoot it.' Tommy closes his eyes and shakes his head. How can this be happening without him behind the controls? 'Evan? You with me?'
'Yeah.' Evan gulps. 'I-I see a spot.' Evan gives him an altitude check. It's all quick math on Tommy's side as he works out the rate of descent. He can barely read his own handwriting for how shaky it is.
'How's the view anyway?' Tommy can picture the sloped terrain perfectly and it kills him to think of Evan looking down and thinking it might be the last sight he ever sees.
'Be a whole lot better with you next to me.'
'Next time,' Tommy says because there will be a tomorrow and the days after that. 'You can show me what you've learned.'
'So you can spend the whole time slamming Ernie's techniques?'
'Obviously.' In the distance, Lucy takes off.
'Make sure you tell Barb Ernie got me through this, ok? He's a proud guy.'
'You can lie to her yourself later.'
'Too bad we didn't get around to the emergency landing at the base of a canyon lesson.'
'No one teaches that lesson, baby. You're gonna make headlines when you pull it off.'
'Yeah? You really think I'm gonna do it?'
'My reputation on the line here so you're gonna have to.' Evan's laugh is more beautiful than ever. Tommy wraps the sound up and stores it deep inside his heart.
The radio bursts with static. A deafening pop has Tommy pulling one headphone free to spare one eardrum. Then, silence. Nothing but the air spinning the blades. Tommy can hear Evan perfectly when he says, 'This is it.'
'This is it,' Tommy repeats, forcing the confidence he know Evan loves. 'Descent's about thirty-seconds now, ok?' Tommy grips the lip of the desk and hangs his head low between his shoulders. Evan has one chance, and only one, to put the half of ton of metal falling out of the sky down gently. 'Lower the collective and keep the nose straight and steady. You're in a glider now.'
'I wish I had more time.' It's the first time Evan's voice has wavered, desperate and fearful.
'Plenty of time to land it, I promise.'
'I meant with you.'
'You're gonna have so much time with me after this you're going to be begging me to get lost.'
'Never enough.' The microphone crackles, and Evan sounds disembodied and far, far away, but there's no hesitation or doubt in his voice when he says, 'I really love you.'
'I really love you, too.' Tommy turns his head to face the clock on the wall. The seconds hand sweeps towards the fifteen second mark. 'P-pull the cyclic back now, ok? Nose up. Better to go too early.' There's no response. 'Easy does it, ok? Gently.' Gently, gently.
Evan's ragged breathing hits Tommy in stereo. It fills his ears and he doesn't want to hear it but he doesn't want to not hear it. He promised Evan a lifetime for better or for worse and if this is the end he'll be there until their comms fail and there's nothing but dead air between them.
The last thing Tommy hears is a dazed oh fuck and a hideous crunch, He calls Evan's name again and again as his body turns to lead and his flesh pimples and his muscles shake.
Switching over to Lucy's frequency takes forever, getting the words out takes even longer. 'He's down, Luce,' Tommy says quietly. 'I'll tell General to get ready.'
*
Miraculously, Evan's nowhere near as twisted up as the helicopter is. Tommy sits next to his hospital bed, his knee bouncing impatiently as he waits for Evan to float back to consciousness. The worst day of Tommy's life is just another day for the doctors and nurses who dip in and out of Evan's room and, honestly, Tommy's thankful for it. He really thought he was losing his mind while Evan was up in surgery getting his arm pinned back together and they must have sensed it because it's been nothing but condensed, matter-of-fact updates since. No platitudes, just realities, and Tommy can take comfort in that even though Evan looks like he's gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.
Fluid drains from Evan's side and collects in a container next to his bed. It's pretty disgusting, but Tommy's been watching it obsessively since they wheeled Evan back in because every drop of fluid is a drop closer to them getting the hell out of there.
Slowly, Evan rouses. His birthmark is lost to a bruise. His blue eyes glitter in a sea of burst blood vessels. His smile is as bright and beautiful as always, even if it is a little drugged and lazy.
'Did I make it?' he slurs.
'You did.'
'Did I land it?'
Evan's probably not going to remember this conversation but Tommy deploys a white lie anyway. 'You landed it.' Tommy leaves out the clipped blade and the roll down the slope. It could have been so much worse.
'Wow.' Evan's IV pulls as he swats at his side. 'Still… banged up, though.'
'Rite of passage.' Tommy guides Evan's hand away from his chest tube and rubs his thumb over his knuckles.
'I'm so sorry.'
Tommy sighs. Smooths Evan's blood-matted hair back. 'Do you promise to stop apologising if I accept your completely unnecessary apology?'
'Dunno. Let's see.'
'I can't believe you went with a different instructor. His fees must have been very competitive.'
Evan's laugh morphs into a wince. 'Free. Plus cookies.'
'And here I was thinking I could sell you on flying lessons in exchange for my undying love.'
'Don't need something… I already have.' Evan's face twists up, and it's like he's flitting between the masks of comedy and tragedy. 'Poor Ernie. Barb's gonna be so upset.'
There's something Tommy's been keeping up his sleeve in case Evan needed a pick-me-up. 'Well, you're not going to believe this but Ernie's back with us.' The look of shock on Evan's face would be comical if it didn't look so sad and disbelieving. 'I don't know what to tell you. Maybe the force of the landing shocked him back to life?'
'Are you saying… I'm the first person… to save a life… by crashing a helicopter?'
'Um, maybe? Sure. That's one way to look at it, yeah.'
'Wow.' Evan's head sinks into his pillow. His split lips curl into a please little smile as his eyelids droop. 'Trendsetter.'
Tommy says, 'Sure, baby,' and shakes his head, laughing.
'Gonna fly you somewhere soon.' Evan's almost completely out. Tommy takes his hand again and soothes him back under. 'Bought a ring and everything.'
Tommy's stomach swoops. For the second time today, his throat feels tight. 'I'm so glad you're not going to remember this conversation,' he whispers, voice shaking.
'Me too. Gonna be a great surprise.'
'Yeah.' Tommy kisses Evan's hand, bloody, raw knuckles and all. 'I can't wait.'
thank you @sad-girl-hours23 for saying 'dooooo it' when i said 'should i....' <3
I’ve read a lot of “Ilya and the Centaurs are protective of Shane during their first game against the Metros” fics, an I LOVE them
but hear me out: Shane ask not to be coddled and Ilya resorts to ragebaiting him on the ice instead.
Ilya makes an offhand comment about keeping an eye on him during their game and Shane jumps because he’s a professional hockey player, has been for over a decade, he can take the heat thank you very much, and when Ilya points out the whole team will be probably coming for him, he’s like:
“Yes, I am the best fucking player in the league. The entire team coming for me is, like, a normal game night for me”
because he is The Shane Hollander and Ilya is kinda proud and very turned on by the sudden cockiness.
Until game night rolls around and ofc some of the team make comments about having Hollander’s back and Ilya has to swear he didn’t put them up to it (Shane won’t admit it but it makes him feel all warm inside, that’s his new team hell yes).
So 1st third he’s taking it like a champ but by the second, after he scores, the hits & chirps keep getting meaner & it’s getting to Shane. At some point he’s struggling to get up & Ilya skates by and says
“You good, Hollander, or do you need me to kiss your boo-boo?” with THAT tone and it makes Shane startle, but he chuckles and tells him to fuck off.
after that Ilya keeps chirping AT HIM, like he did back when they played against each other “no, no, don’t get up, I can score all the goals we need”, “taking nap, Hollander?”, “maybe you need to find softer sport, yes?”
And somehow Shane finds it easier to focus when he’s feeling annoyed and competitive and as usual Ilya is just pushing him to be The Best he can be (everyone else, Metros and Centaurs, is extremely confused by this… except maybe Hayden).
it's important to me that ilya remains captain of the centaurs after shane joins, but i have a specific picture in my mind of shane being assistant captain and being generally harmless and super chill , so the centaurs see him as like the chill parent (something to be said about shane being content in letting someone else, specifically His Someone, have the reins and enjoying not being in charge) but then ilya has to be out for a few weeks for like health or smth so shane goes into Captain Mode and the centaurs are scared shitless by how intense he gets all of a sudden. the most intense drills of all time. the hardest plays they've ever heard of. the strictest practices on earth. and they suddenly understand why shane led the metros/voyagers to victory so many times and why ilya treats him like the boss in their relationship. and then as soon as ilya comes back he turns it off and the centaurs are like Oh Thank Fuck Because What The Hell Was That
First thing, I checked this because I’m always the most suspicious of news stories that make me outraged without being surprised. This is very real, or at least it’s managed to convince the whistleblower organization and many news outlets are carrying the story, and the whole whistleblower disclosure is available here.
Second, I think most Americans have a basic understanding of the legal principles at play here, but I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna give a brief primer on 4th Amendment law to explain why this is batshit:
America has a national Bill of Rights that imposes certain limits (and requirements) on governmental action. These are referred to as amendments to the constitution that lays out our governmental structure.
The 4th amendment focuses on government intrusion on individual privacy and was of course written in the 18th century. The text is:
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
So let’s break this down.
Obviously there are some assumptions here about words that were commonly in use by lawyers at the time. But the basic gist is:
The government can’t just search you for no reason.
Some writer failed to logically connect the two clauses in this Amendment, but, no worries, 250 years of legal tradition has done the work.
The Basic Rule: Searches (for things) and seizures (of people and things) need a warrant.
The Amendment just kind of assumes you know what a warrant is and how it works. So what exactly is a warrant?
For the purposes of this explanation, a warrant is a fancy one-use spell scroll that lets law enforcement legally do things that in other circumstances would be burglary, abduction, theft, etc.
What do you need to get a warrant?
You need an oath (or affirmation if your religion is against oaths) and affidavit supporting probable cause, and someone authorized has to decide whether the info provided is enough “probable cause” to issue the warrant.
Okay we’re really in the weeds now. Let’s talk about these requirements.
How about affidavit first? An affidavit, for anyone who speaks normal human English, is a written document that has a bunch of information that someone swears is true.
The oath is the person actually swearing (or affirming). So oath and affidavit come as pairs.
The affidavit is very important because it provides a written record of exactly why the warrant was given and what information was available at the time. Details!!
So what’s probable cause?
Probable cause has been defined a thousand million times over the course of American history and every definition sucks. At this point, I think “probable cause” means “a decent reason to believe that this guy in particular committed this crime in particular.”
This is why the details in the affidavit are important.
It’s not a high standard. If you have a car with four people and found some drugs in a bag between all four of them, you likely have probable cause enough for a warrant for each of them.
So who’s deciding probable cause?
This is the part that’s so automatic that the writers of the Amendment didn’t feel the need to say it out loud. (The law since then has said it, over and over.)
A neutral and detached magistrate (usually a judge) decides about probable cause.
So let’s say an FBI agent with the Department of Justice, which is one of the departments under the command of the President, wants a warrant. That agent has to go over to federal court, which is not under the command of the President but is part of the judicial branch of government, and convince a judge that they’re right.
An ICE agent, with the Department of Homeland Security, has to do the same thing.
All right now I’m gonna throw some really fucked up shit at you. We have to talk about immigration law a little bit, and this is the worst thing in the world.
Immigration law is completely under the authority of the President.
Really.
The President(‘s departments) make All the immigration rules themselves. This is why it’s such a mess: it’s pure regulations. No underlying legal principles.
But the President alone can’t just make something into criminal law. The President can’t say “now being in this country improperly without documentation is a crime.”
Only the Senate/House of Representatives can do that.
So when I say immigration law is all the President’s responsibility, I mean the rules about how to immigrate to the country and what happens to you while you’re doing that.
Being present in this country without documentation is not a crime.
Crossing the border illegally is a crime.
Why does this matter?
Warrants issue for criminal charges.
Unlawful immigration is not a crime.
Except it kind of has all the trappings and consequences of crimes because we left all the responsibility of dealing with it to a bunch of fucking cops
Okay. This is what I mean:
Immigration detention is “not punitive” meaning it’s not for punishment. Courts have said this over and over.
And yet immigration detention, before the American Holocaust, took place in prisons where the Department of Homeland Security got contracts for those prisons to also hold undocumented immigrants.
Yes! Undocumented folks who never committed a crime were in prison with people convicted of felony offenses!
But it’s okay because it’s not punishment. Like it’s not meant as punishment.
This was also true for children. Undocumented and unaccompanied immigrant minor children are kept at juvenile detention centers, sometimes for years at a time, without access to care or services.
Ask me about this and I’ll tell more, because one of these centers was in the jurisdiction where I was a public defender.
Okay but:
Immigration detention orders are not issued by the 4th Amendment.
They’re “administrative warrants,” meaning they were not issued by a judge in the judicial branch but by someone internal to the administrative structure under the President in the executive branch.
Because immigration enforcement and criminal law enforcement are not the same.
Because they’re not issued by 4th Amendment rules, iCE warrants are not fully effective spell scrolls. An ICE warrant is at best a cantrip; it is limited and does not unlock all access to private spaces. Because it doesn’t follow the rules. It doesn’t have even the basic protections that the 4th Amendment promises.
Particularly, a real spell scroll (an actual judicial warrant) is needed to open up the sanctum of a person’s home.
This memo says otherwise, going against 250 years of legal precedent. “The cantrip is fine,” it says, “and if the cantrip doesn’t work, break the door down.”
Some of these news stories talk about exigency but exigency is another fucking novel length post and I’ve already gone about six times longer than I meant to.
I wish kinky sex ed wasn't so stigmatized even among left-leaning "sex positive" circles. Everyone's all "uwu I'm a sub I'll do anything you ask" okay mommy wants you to read The New Bottoming Book so you learn how to sub without hurting yourself since your sex ed up to this point is porn and your ex boyfriend Jared who liked to choke you incorrectly
I’m so glad you asked! Let me list off what I’ve got for you:
Books I personally recommend:
- The New Topping Book and The New Bottoming Book, by Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy
If you’re having kinky sex at all, you need to read at least one of these two books. Point blank. They’ll teach you the very basics of negotiating properly (which is critical!), and help you identify what you are and aren’t into.
- Mindfucking Mindfully, by Sir Ezra
Where this book really shines isn’t actually in helping you “mindfuck” people, it’s in taking a close look at how to do so ethically. It’s a great answer to the question “how do I get someone to consent to something and still surprise and shock them with it?”
- Real Service by Raven Kaldera and Joshua Tenpenny
This is a slightly niche pick but there simply isn’t a better book on the subject. It’s written from a 24/7 M/s perspective, which is not what I do, but the book itself is an indispensable guide to giving and receiving service. The phrase “if the Master doesn’t want it, it isn’t service” will be burned into my psyche for quite some time. I love this book a lot. Maybe my favorite out of all of these.
- Enough To Make You Blush: Exploring Erotic Humiliation, by Princess Kali
This one’s high on my reading list; I’ve heard it recommended by a number of people whose opinions on these things I trust.
- Pretty Much Anything Midori Has Ever Done
Midori is a great resource for this stuff - I haven’t personally read much of her work, but she’s a well known sex educator and great at what she does. She’s known for bondage, but has a lot of range beyond that.
- This Negotiations Worksheet from Bex Talks Sex
This is what I default to using a lot of the time for negotiations. Forget BDSMtest, you don’t need that, it’s no good. Just look through this worksheet’s wordbank with your partner. Big fan especially of the “how do you want to feel?” section.
Books I can kind of recommend:
- The Ultimate Guide to Kink, edited by Tristan Taormino
This book is weird. There’s a lot of good info for experienced players, but some of what’s written here skeeves me out. I think if I had a top that thought the way some of the tops in here think, they would not be topping me for long. But there’s some good techniques and so on to pick up that I wouldn’t have otherwise. I liked the distinction one of the authors makes between being sadistic in the sense of inflicting pain and being sadistic in the sense of doing something your sub doesn’t “enjoy.”
- The Ritual of Dominance and Submission, by David English
Man, this book fucking sucks. The writing and editing are garbage, and the fear and protocol play described need way more careful negotiation than he ever lets on, let alone recommends. This is some 50 Shades bullshit. The only time I recommend this book is to tops like me who tend to be very affirming to their partners and need a guide on how to really scare them - when their partner consents and when you negotiate it, which this book sucks at teaching you. Really good content on fear, punishment, and protocol play, really terrible presentation of the topic though. Don’t read this if you don’t already know what you’re doing.
- Paradigms of Power, by Raven Kaldera
I love this book. Great book. Very focused on 24/7 M/s play though, and, being an anthology, some chapters are better than others. If you can’t read something and pick out what is and isn’t for you, don’t bother. But some really great inspiration, and generally pretty well written. Big fan of the discussion of leather throughout the book.
Hope some of these are helpful for people ^-^ for the average person reading this I recommend New Bottoming/Topping, but they’re all important parts of my library and I’ve recommended all of them to friends at some point or another.
May I also suggest Hell on Wheels and Kneeling in Spirit by Raven Kaldera, d/s companion books that address kink with a disability. They're a should read for everyone, imo. You never know when you or a partner are going to have changes in your body that affect what you can physically do. Temporary illness/injury and even just age can affect your sex life.
I'd like to suggest Better Bondage for Every Body! It goes really in depth on anatomy, pain processing, self-tying, and has chapters specifically focusing on how to do rope bondage on/for someone who is disabled or has chronic pain, which was really important to me.
I bet young Ilya Rozanov never thought he’d get slapped in the face with that tism rizz and he would be so fucking cooked.
This man has eight of the same shirt and five of the same hoodie. This man memorizes hockey stats for fun. This man will have a cold ginger ale. This man will look awkwardly at the camera with a smile like he wants to incinerate himself in every wet t-shirt contest sports drink ad his mom books for him. This man will take everything you say absolutely literally. That’s French, Ilya. You just said a French word and we’re talking about Russian, are you unfamiliar with your own language. This man takes three days to recognize a social cue. And ten years to name an emotion. You’ll tell him you like him in the most roundabout way and you’ll think you NAILED it, and he’ll promptly have a panic attack on your dick. When he names that emotion finally? He’ll be absolutely relentless and will not stand down; he’s had an emotion and he knows you have one, too. By that point, there’s no escape. He’s imprinted on you and is starting to ovulate in your vicinity. He will bludgeon you with adorable nerd and insatiable ass. And his oral fixation is so mighty he’ll suck your remaining brain cells out through your dick.
This man drives a Range Rover because it’s good in the snow. This man does a loon call. This man will make you eight cheeseburgers. Buddy it’s over for you.
i've searched every combination of words imaginable and i still can't find that gif of the german star trek parody where gay spock is quickly drinking coffee and smoking freaking out PLEASE send it to me i need it urgently
