Multi-fandom porn-in: a protest
Today, the Minister for Broadband, Communications and the Digital Economy (Australian federal parliament), the (extremely dis)Honourable Stephen Conroy, announced that his UTTERLY BULLSHIT internet filtering plan will go ahead. Even more worrying, the list would be compiled using a public complaints mechanism, Government censors and URLs provided
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She's got her legs wrapped around Kevin's back as he fucks her on her desk. This never happens in his office; that's where he works, that's where he runs the country. Julia's office is where he thinks aloud, floats ideas, allows her to question him, on the odd occasions he finds time to go there. Outside her office, Kevin is in control because Kevin wields the power; inside, he sometimes- sometimes- shares ( ... )
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i have a sekrit desire to read julia gillard/maxine mckew!
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... I think I now have that desire as well.
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BUT I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN FEMSLASH BEFORE. :O SO IT MAY END IN: "And then they had sex." AFTER 1,000 WORDS OF SEKRIT ~LOOKS~ AND VEILED GLANCES OVER ~COFFEE~.
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neither i nor my partner in auspol!rpf desirings (johnnypurple) mind this. in fact, UST = FTW! dooooooo eeeeeeet!
<3 <3 <3
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YOU DIDN'T.
No wait, you did.
*brain explodes*
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Does this mean you wouldn't want to read the sequel where Kev and Julia get caught by Wilson Tuckey and are forced to include him in their "meetings" to keep him quiet?
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(The comment has been removed)
*plots even as she hates her brain*
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Title: Tactical Advantage
Warnings: More Wilson Tuckey. A warning in itself. Also contains the Tuckey/Barnaby Joyce stuff from the 'Ironbar' 'verse. Oh my God, there's a 'verse.
"I don't know if we should be doing this," Barnaby hissed.
"Shh! Leave it to me to get the toyboy who bloody Frenched the Blarney Stone."
"I am not your toyboy ( ... )
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Title: Ironbar
Warnings: I cannot actually write porn properly, therefore you're getting shoddy time jumps, bad humour and... weird. Enjoy. :P
Barnaby asked Wilson why he'd started calling him 'Barnyard' rather than 'Barny,' like most people did when they wanted to shorten his name.
"Is it because I'm in the Nationals?" Barnaby said.
"No," Wilson replied. "It's because you sound like a horse fucking a chicken when you shoot your juice."
Barnaby would've probably been offended if Wilson hadn't settled an arm around his shoulder after a moment and told him, "I want a repeat performance of last week, if you're up to it."
Wilson walked away once Barnaby answered, and the Queenslander watched the old man go, bow-legged and limping in such a way it looked like a swagger.
*
Yeah, I'm up to it.
Good. I'll be in touch.
*
No one really liked Wilson and honestly, Barnaby knew more than a few people would be happy to see him hit by a bus the next time he crossed a road. They were both ( ... )
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