#First Black MP

[larrylimericks]

13Mar23

Louis’ sartorial choices In Tokyo all but destroyed us: Black suit, scoopneck showing His chest piece, eyes glowing; “Yes, Daddy” said all of our voices.

[thursdaysbagman]

.

[marlinspirkhall]

#also: is she REALLY the only black person in the WHOLE government????

No, Kemi Badenoch isn't even the only Black Conservative MP, though she did say "only black woman in government" (which also isn't true), though it's likely she meant "cabinet" which is a more specific term referring to Tories appointed by the Prime Minister.

[Relevant]

This is all happening while the government are trying Marieha Hussain for "racially aggravated public order offense" because she held a sign at a protest. But, remember, Rishi really cares about free speech 🥺

This image may offend Conservatives:

[X]

okay im not british and i admit my understanding of british politics is not great but i found out that david tennant's speech when he accepted the lgbt celebrity ally award made british politicans BIG mad. the way conservative transphobic politicans will weaponize any part of their identity to silence criticism agaisnt them is so disingenious and shitty.

THIS is what he said. okay

and this was the reaction of badenoch and sunak

literally weaponizing her identity as a woman and a woman of colour to distract from how dangerously transphobic she is. like what the fuck. anyways i just wanted to bring this up because it's something that terfs do constantly. especially to shut up trans woman and cis male allies. not to mention david tennant is a father of a non-binary child and i believe one of other kids is queer. he's not just being a performative ally, trans rights are important to him and his family. anyways fuck sunak fuck badenoch.

[gloomwitchwrites]

The 141 boys and the TikTok trend “everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer”

Firstly, I want to say that in this house, we say "fuck the police (derogatory)" every single day. However, I will indulge in this instance because it's our 141 boys and I think the trend with them would be absolutely smoldering. But I will change it up slightly, and pull from my Bodyguard!141 AU Post as well as lean into a security detail aspect for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, secret relationship

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Price adjusts the ear piece in his right ear.

The blasted thing doesn’t fit right. It keeps slipping. It’s irritating but it’s manageable. Not like Price is running anywhere. At least, he doesn’t plan on moving too quickly. His job is to stand and observe. To make look after a certain MP’s daughter, and to take her back to the hotel when she tells you she’s ready to leave.

You are no stranger. Far from it.

And it goes far beyond the grounds of appropriate behavior.

Price has completely stuck his foot in it, bedding you when he isn’t supposed to. Stealing kisses in dark corners, and fucking you behind closed doors. He was hired by your father to look after you, and instead, John has taken it much further than that.

But he doesn’t fucking regret it.

Not at all.

John adjusts his ear piece and scans the room from left to right. You’re not in sight but that doesn’t bother him. This ballroom is packed full of rich schmucks who couldn’t give a shit about him.

He scans the room again, and this time he finds you.

You’re walking toward him, hips moving in a sultry sway that steals John’s resolve. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. And he can’t stop staring.

The corner of your mouth quirks with amusement, and John straightens his shoulders, making himself appear bigger. He needs to look professional. He needs to look like he’s not thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck you.

But it’s hard to focus, and when you approach, you glance over your shoulder at him, words leaving your mouth that John doesn’t entirely catch at first. Your foot pops in the air, and the friend you’re walking with giggles, her hand pressed to her painted lips.

Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.

A good girl.

Yes. You are.

You’re John’s good girl.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

High-stakes missions have always been part of Kyle’s life. It is what he knows. What he thrives on. But between the missions, Kyle keeps working, and not with SAS.

Kyle mostly signs up for security detail at different places around London. Sometimes he might work as a bouncer for a club, or be monitoring people entering a music venue. Sometimes the gigs are swanky, and sometimes they’re not. Kyle doesn’t really mind as long as he’s paid.

That’s the whole point.

He’s saving. Wants to buy a house. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Life is going by fast. He needs some stability amongst all the violence.

And tonight? Tonight, he’s nothing more than a glorified security guard.

He looks the part in all-black tactical gear, and he isn’t the only one. There is an entire group of them all lined up in front of large windows, creating a bit of barrier. The event coordinator expected protests. All there is are a handful of people across the street with signs. They’re harmless.

Kyle doesn’t pay them any mind.

He does watch the regular people walking by on his side of the road. Some people are here for the event and others are just passing through.

Standing on the corner nearby is a small group of young women. They’re all dressed up like they’re heading to the clubs. Kyle pretends he’s not looking, but that would be a lie. There is one he keeps glancing at.

You’re fucking stunning. A beauty.

But Kyle has to remain calm. Aloof. He’s not here for you or anyone except the job at hand.

“Go over there.”

“I can’t!”

“Girl. He is so cute. Do it.”

Kyle casually turns his head, only to find you striding toward him. His throat drops into his stomach, and you waltz past him, pausing just to his right, flipping your hair, and batting your eyelashes at him and then your friends.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

Your friends scream, and then you hurriedly run back to them as if you’ve done something you shouldn’t.

A good girl? Sure you are, love.

Kyle smirks and looks away, doing his best to hide a growing smile.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon sits in the driver seat of a large, black SUV. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He needs the smoke—to feel the burn. To rid himself of some of this agitation.

It’s not annoyance. It’s not frustration. And it sure as shit isn’t anger.

No. Simon has a fucking rager in his pants, and his thoughts are filled with images of you. You—who he’s supposed to be protecting. Escorting you to and from events, pushing back the crowd, and keeping a firm lock on where you are at all times.

The black dress you’re wearing tonight is made of flimsy material. It clings to every curve and swell. Simon is hungry—a feral animal that couldn’t stop stalking you throughout the event.

Now, he’s about to take you back to your hotel. And he knows you’ll invite him in. He knows that the little black dress you wear will be nothing but a pile on the floor in due time.

But this need in his bones isn’t just Simon’s fault. You were a fucking tease all evening. You were bad. Openly flirting with other men in front of him, drinking more than you should have, and genuinely being a little terror to his sanity. All this behavior will only get you punishment. A punishment he’s happy to deal out once he has you behind a closed door.

A car door clicks, and Simon glances up, expecting to see you slide into the backseat. You’re not there. You’re next to him. In the front passenger seat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Simon, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

You shrug and settle in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, leaning on the middle armrest.

Simon can smell your perfume. “Buckle up,” he growls, and you do so casually, as if you don’t hear his irritation.

He pulls out into traffic, and the moment the two of you are clear of the building, Simon feels your hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to his dick.

“This bad behavior needs to stop.”

Your body shifts and you sing-song the next words out of your mouth. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

The words are bit slurred. You’re completely pissed, and Simon cannot help but laugh. No punishment then. Not tonight at least.

But tomorrow?

Absolutely.

John "Soap" MacTavish

This isn’t Johnny’s usual job, but it’s easy work.

Usually, hired security and local police take care of concerts and sporting events, but the military has been called in for this one, and Johnny is fine with that. Again, it’s easy work, and they’re paying him more for it.

He stands in one spot, scans the crowd, and acts casual while looking downright intimidating. The intimidation isn’t hard. They have him completely decked out in all-black tactical and balaclava included. All you can see of Johnny are his eyes.

It’s fun, actually. When he put it all on, he pretended to be Simon, only to receive a swat upside the head for it from the man himself.

Johnny has his hands casually resting on his bulletproof vest. No one is really looking at him, and those that do quickly look away. But there is one he can’t stop looking at.

You’re so damn cute, and you can’t stop glancing at him either. You’re with friends, and you keep smiling in his direction. If this were any other night, Johnny would approach you, flirt a bit, maybe even ask for your number. Might even take you home with him if you were open to it.

But Johnny is on the job, and he can’t afford to do that.

As you move closer to him through the crowd, one of your friends keeps saying something to you, moving their hands as if urging you to do something. Johnny isn’t sure what, but he’s curious. You don’t look like danger, and there is nothing about your demeanor that says that you’re looking to cause trouble.

Maybe it’s the balaclava. That seems to be a thing now.

As you approach, there is a pop of your foot, a quick flip of your hair, and a stunning smile. Your friend holds up her phone and you turn away from Johnny briefly to say “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

I bet you fucking are, love.

Your friends giggle with pleasure, and you quickly move away from him but not before you glance over your shoulder one last time, mouthing a silent “thank you.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[r3starttt]

KISS ME

PAIRING: Jackson! ellie x reader

CW: request. outbreak | tlou universe.

SUMMARY: Ellie takes care of you after patrol.

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | - ellie taglist: @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages

The night sky stretches above you, a deep canvas of blue-black, with only a few stubborn stars daring to puncture its vastness. The moon, however, shone with an almost ethereal glow, casting a silvery light that softened the edges of the night. It illuminated your path home. Yet, its light did little to ease the weariness clinging to your body. Every muscle ached, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through your tired limbs.

The ground beneath your feet felt distant, as if you were walking on shattered glass, each step a jagged reminder of the day’s relentless toll. It felt as though the very bones in your feet might shatter with the weight of the exhaustion that clung to you, heavy and unyielding.

From the moment you left the safety of yours and Ellie's shared walls, it was a relentless march through the wilderness, every mile weighing down on you like a stone.

The hours went by in a haze of heat and sweat, the sun’s unforgiving rays beating down on you until you felt as though your very essence was melting away. The memory of that heat still lingered, a phantom pain that sapped what little strength you had left.

Your legs had carried you far beyond what should have been your limit. Every patrol was a test, pushing you to the edge, but it was always the final stretch—the steps that brought you back home—that hurt the most. The pain of a long day wasn’t truly felt until you stood on the threshold of safety, when the body, sensing the nearness of rest, began to unravel, finally allowed to release.

The night was quiet, the crickets were quieter tonight, their usual chorus subdued, as if they, too, were tired. Instead, the usual symphony had been replaced by the distant air, a murmur of voices- the sound of the town coming alive in the evening.

People greeted the returning patrols, their voices carrying a mix of relief and fatigue, like echoes of a world that still held onto some semblance of normalcy. Your own group had been particularly weary tonight, the day’s struggles etched into the lines of their faces as they shared tired smiles and half-hearted jokes. Last voices you heard were tinged with exhaustion, drifted to you, words that blended together in a chorus of shared fatigue.

But the sounds of the night could not drown out the ghosts that clung to your mind—the groans and cries of the infected, the hollow echoes of what once were human beings. Their twisted forms a grim reminder of what awaited those who let their guard down.

A smear of dried blood clung to your cheek, the crimson stark against your sweat-streaked skin. Every inch of you was covered in the grime of the day, the sun having left its mark in the form of a relentless burn that sapped your energy and left you feeling hollowed out.

The bruises and cuts scattered across your body throbbed with a dull ache, a heavy weight that seemed to settle in your stomach, twisting it into tight knots. It felt like you’d been running on empty, forcing yourself through sheer willpower, and now that you were so close to rest, the pain was finally catching up to you.

Your fingers brushed against the rough wood of Ellie’s porch door, the familiar texture grounding you for just a moment before it was pulled open. The door swung inward with surprising ease, and there she was—Ellie. The first thing you saw was her eyes, green orbs filled with worry as they drank in the sight of you. She had been waiting, her anxiety palpable in the way her fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together as if she could knit away her fear.

Without a word, she reached for you, guiding you inside with a gentle hand on your arm. You stumbled through the doorway, the weight of your body dragging you down, but before you could even think to shrug it off, Ellie was there, the moth tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve as she motioned for you to turn around. Your body moved on autopilot, dragging itself to obay her command, sluggishly.

Ellie had barely waited for you to move before she was easing the heavy backpack from your shoulders, her fingers deftly undoing the straps as if they were second nature. Too enveloped in the warmth, in the soft glow of the Christmas lights adorning the room and adding to the feeling of safety that she always manages to create around you- barely registering the weight of your backpack being lifted from your shoulders.

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice was soft, a quiet melody tinged with concern, though you could only manage a nod, your throat too tight to form words. The day had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the heaviness in your chest. But Ellie’s voice wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing in its familiarity.

The space enlightened in a gentle, golden hue. It felt like a safe haven, a sanctuary where the world outside could not reach you.

You stumbled toward the couch, your hands fumbling with the laces of your boots. On your ears echoed the faint rustle of fabric as Ellie hung up your—her—jacket on the hook by the door, the simple act somehow grounding you even further.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured, her gaze lifting to meet yours, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Despite the exhaustion pulling at your very soul, you found comfort in that smile, in the way she always knew how to take care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

Yet the calm faded with a frustrated groan that escaped your lips as you encountered a stubborn knot, the simple task suddenly insurmountable in your current state. Ellie noticed immediately, her eyes softening with sympathy as she was already there, kneeling down in front of you, "Stop, you’re gonna make it worse,” she chided gently, her hands brushing yours aside with that lopsided smile you knew so well.

“Let me,” her whisper insisting once again, preventing you from even thinking on fighting her back. Ellie's tone low and husky, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine. Her fingers worked deftly at the knot, untying it with ease, her touch careful and deliberate. As she did, she glanced up, her voice dropping to a softer, more husky tone, as if trying to coax a response out of you. “Did you hear what I said?”

You managed a half-hearted reply, more of a mumble than anything else. “Get me cleaned, yes.” her fingers finally loosening the stubborn knot, helping you out of your boots. It felt as if the weight of the day begin to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing that you had her with you, in this very moment to finally provide you safeness.

She would never say it, but you could see the relief in her expression, the way her worry eased just a fraction realizing the same thing. After a long day, she had you there, safe.

"Come on," you groaned, tilting your head back as you sighed deeply. Inside your mind, you counted down from five before finally taking her hand and standing up.

The stiffness in your feet began to ease as you pressed your feet against the cold, hard concrete floor. Its coolness and firmness, in contrast to the warm flesh, added just enough pressure to make you feel better.

Ellie led you into the bathroom—it was only a few steps, really. Her hand was a steadying presence, her fingers resting gently on your opposite arm with each step you took. The small space was dimly lit, a single candle flickering and casting soft, dancing shadows on the walls. Ellie’s bathroom was simple but functional—a small tub, a sink, and a water system. A barrel of water sat near the ceiling, connected to a series of tubes that fed into the showerhead, sink, and toilet. It wasn’t much, but it worked, and in this world, that was everything.

The absence of her touch contrasted with the tender atmosphere. From your viewpoint, you could see her hair, messily tidied into a bun, with a few baby hairs and stray strands adorning her neck and the area behind her ears. You wanted to kiss them.

She knelt by the tub, her movements loud as she filled a bucket with water. The sound of the water splashing into the bucket was soothing, a gentle reminder that you were finally safe—finally home.

Ellie set the bucket down next to the tub and looked up at you, only then realizing you were already looking back. It was quiet, aside from the sound of the water, but everything felt blurry in her presence.

You shifted slightly, resting the back of your arms and elbows against the sink to keep your composure, making enough space for both of you and allowing her to stand up.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away the dried blood that clung stubbornly to your skin. "Arms up," she said with quiet determination, an unspoken promise that she wouldn’t let anything else be a struggle tonight.

You nodded, too tired to do much else, and let her help you out of your clothes. Each piece of fabric that left your body and fell to the floor felt like another layer of the day’s grime and exhaustion being peeled away. By the time you stood there, bare and vulnerable, you felt lighter—still weary, but no longer weighed down.

The tub was cold and stiff, making your bones ache. But it was all easily forgotten. Ellie dipped a sponge into the bucket and began to gently cleanse your skin. She worked in silence, her touch tender and methodical as she wiped away the dirt, blood, and sweat that clung to you. The water was cool against your overheated skin, soothing the burns left by the sun and the aches buried deep in your muscles. The sponge moved across your body with a kind of reverence, as if she were handling something precious. In that moment, you were—precious to her, and safe in her care.

When the sponge had done its work, Ellie carefully poured the dirty water over you, rinsing away the last remnants of the day and ensuring your hair was thoroughly wet. The water cascaded down your body, carrying away the grime and blood, leaving you feeling half-clean—both physically and emotionally.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling as though the water was rinsing away more than just dirt. It was washing away the tension, the fear, and the exhaustion, leaving you with nothing but the comfort of being home, of being with her.

Ellie reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands before gently running them over your skin. The smell of it—something mild and earthy, a scent she had traded for a few weeks back—filled the small bathroom. The soap felt comforting against your battered skin, and Ellie’s hands moved with the kind of care that came from knowing just how fragile you felt in that moment.

She repeated those same motions later, with the soap on your body, her fingers careful not to apply too much pressure whenever there was a cut, bruise, or anything that could cause pain.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Ellie murmured, her voice a low, comforting hum that resonated in your chest. You managed a weak nod, closing your eyes as you surrendered fully to her care. The world outside ceased to exist, reduced to the sound of water splashing against porcelain and the feeling of Ellie’s hands moving over your body in a slow, rhythmic dance.

Finally, she reached up and pulled the chain that controlled the flow of water from the barrel, letting a gentle stream of water fall over you from the showerhead. It wasn’t much—she had to be careful with how much water was used—but it was enough.

"Here," she whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead as she handed you a small towel. It was barely enough to properly dry your hair, but you always managed to make it work.

Too focused on the wet sounds in your ears coming from your hair being dried, you barely noticed the commotion Ellie made while searching for a proper towel for you. She swore she had a clean one left—or maybe she had just convinced herself earlier to avoid doing laundry today. But you didn't know that, so she had to hurry.

When she finally appeared in the doorway, you tilted your chin up, meeting her hands first and then the towel she held. "Come here," she murmured. In a matter of seconds, she had the towel wrapped around your shoulders and was guiding you out of the bathroom and, much to your relief, into the very desirable bed.

She knelt in front of you again, her hands busy with the towel, drying you off with the same care she’d shown throughout. As she worked, her eyes kept flicking up to meet yours, as if she needed to reassure herself that you were really safe, here.

"Can I?" she asked, her fingers lightly grazing the skin of your thighs. Her hazel eyes, dilated pupils, focused on all the bruises, all the wounds. And again, you didn't reply verbally but simply moved the towel aside, exposing yourself before her and allowing her to reach every inch of skin that needed the tenderness of her touch.

It took some pain, hisses, and a kiss here and there. The needle was probably something no human could ever get used to, nor the sensation of the thread between your skin. But you made it work; you had to.

Ellie was gentle, helping you into a clean set of clothes—something soft and warm that smelled faintly of her. You could barely keep your eyes open by this point, the weight of the day catching up with you now that you were finally clean and comfortable.

"Hey," Ellie called softly, taking your hand and gripping it just enough to reassure you. You turned your chin up, meeting her pretty eyes and that sheepish smile. "Let's go eat, come on."

As you did every morning, you forced yourself out of bed. Just as you had done with the couch when you first came in, you took a deep breath, counted to three, and stood up.

Dinner most nights was something she threw together while you were out on patrol. Today, the aroma of a hearty stew filled the room, mingling with the faint scent of herbs.

Usually you’d joke about her cooking, mocking her “chef talents”—she wasn't the best. But tonight, the words stuck in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion and the thought of simply touching the bed again, it looked so inviting.

You slid into your seat at the table, the day's exhaustion making your limbs heavy. Ellie chuckled, her usual dorky grin present but softened by concern. "It's not fancy, but—" she said, sliding a plate in front of you. "It's edible."

She watched as you took tentative bites, her hand resting on your back, offering silent encouragement. As usual, she didn’t touch her own food until she saw you eat.

The silence between you was comfortable, the warmth of the stew seeping into your bones, grounding you after the chaos of the day. Yet, as the meal progressed, your appetite remained low. You gave small glances at Ellie, considering your usual reluctance to eat her cooking.

"I know you’re tired, but you haven't had proper food since breakfast."

You knew that if you refused again, she’d let it slide, waiting until you were sound asleep before eating anything herself just to avoid an argument.

But after all she’d done to take care of you tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to fight her on this. "I’ll wait with you. We can eat together.” With a quiet nod, you picked up your spoon again and took another bite.

Relief. Ellie could only stare at you with relief. The adrenaline of every time you went out on patrol never really fading until next day- for her, it wasn't only the thoughts of you getting hurt, but killed, taken by anyone and being hurt. She feared humans mostly.

And then, seeing you in front of her- yes, hurt, but nothing else- it was like all the anxiety finally made any sense. What would it be if any day you didn't come back, how could she ever manage to eat dinner herself, alone.

Having you in front of her, so close. Feeling the warmth of your skin under her hoodie- the fact that you're the one on her clothes, right next to her. The fact that she's having to force you to eat. It's always a relief, to know you're here, with her, that she has you.

It wasn't until her brain finally realized it was all good that she started to eat.

You always finished first. Only waiting for your stomach to feel full enough, with a gentle move, you pushed the plate away slightly to let her know you were done. Ellie always replied with a nod and a quick glance. Her hand on your thigh as she finished the last few bites of her meal.

The usual banter and teasing were absent, replaced by a quiet understanding—a silent agreement that tonight was about more than just food or sleep. It was about taking care of each other, about finding comfort in the little things. Like—no dishes to be washed tonight. That's future you both's problem.

��Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to your tired mind.

You didn’t argue, letting her lead you to the small bed you shared. The sheets cool against your skin as you slipped under them, Ellie sliding in beside you. She pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you in a comfortable and tight enough embrace that felt like the safest place in the world. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back lulled you.

You could feel the rhythm of her breathing against your neck. It all creating the most desirable sanctuary. And after hours that felt endless, you could close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of normalcy—the simple, precious moment of being held by someone who cares deeply, knowing that no matter what tomorrow brings, you'd wake up next to her, ready to face it together.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - January 15, 2024

🎊 - As we embark on another journey around the sun, I am thrilled to bring you the first newsletter of the year, packed with inspiring, informative, and sometimes downright amusing stories.

1. Marijuana meets criteria for reclassification as lower-risk drug

Marijuana has a lower potential for abuse than other drugs that are subjected to the same restrictions, with scientific support for its use as a medical treatment, researchers from the US Food and Drug Administration say in documents supporting its reclassification as a Schedule III substance.

2. South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade

The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.

3. After 20 years in a tiny cage, these 'broken bears' are finally feeling the grass beneath their paws

These bears, termed "broken bears" due to physical and psychological trauma from years of abuse, are treated at the Tam Dao rescue center with individually tailored diets, physiotherapy, and medical care. The bear bile trade, which involves extracting bile for traditional Asian medicine, has been illegal in Vietnam since 2005, but a black market still exists.

4. France just got its first openly gay prime minister.

Gabriel Attal is France’s youngest-ever prime minister at age 34 and the first who is openly gay.

5. Australian ‘builders without borders’ repairing war-torn homes and schools in Ukraine

Manfred Hin, a 66-year-old builder from Townsville, Australia, spent most of 2023 volunteering in Ukraine to rebuild homes and schools damaged by Russian attacks. Having contributed to over 50 house and a dozen school renovations, he worked with Ukrainian charity Brave to Rebuild, mentoring young volunteers and sourcing three tonnes of donated tools.

Inspired by Hin's story, Tasmanian carpenter Hamish Stirling also joined the efforts, learning Ukrainian, traveling to Europe, and volunteering for three months to help rebuild homes.

6. The age-standardized death rate from cancer has declined by 15% since 1990

The age-standardized death rate from cancer declined by 15%

Cancer kills mostly older people – as the death rate by age shows, of those who are 70 years and older, 1% die from cancer every year. For people who are younger than 50, the cancer death rate is more than 40-times lower (more detail here).

7. Germany Reached 55% Renewable Energy in 2023

In 2023, 55 percent of Germany’s power came from renewables — an increase of 6.6 percent, according to energy regulator Bundesnetzagentur, reported Reuters. Europe’s biggest national economy has a goal of 80 percent green energy by 2030.

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That's it for this week :)

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[battlecrazed-axe-mage]

While we’re on the subject, what’s the weirdest party finder experience you’ve had?

Oh boy. So this one's a couple years old now, but I will never forget this guy.

We (my fiance and I) were going through MSQ for the first time and were in early Endwalker, I think, and our raid lead wanted to take us through an unsync of E12S. Enough of a savage fight to get a taste for if we wanted to do the real thing, but not too overwhelming for a newbie. At the gear level of the time, you had to do up to Titan phase in phase 1, and all of Basic Relativity/a couple mechs after in phase 2, so she was confident we'd be able to manage it. But we didn't have a whole group together, so we put up a pf for the last couple slots.

Enter Mumbo*.

Mumbo said they had watched a video and understood the strats. It immediately became clear this was not the case. For those who don't play the game or haven't done E12S, let me introduce you to Dwayne the Rock Johnson strat**:

You get a colored shape above your head and the diagram shows you where to go with it; this happens three times, and then you're (probably, depending on your damage) done and the boss phases into a cutscene. It's super doable but it also NEEDS to be done or else the party explodes.

Mumbo could not do this. No matter how many times we reset and tried again, or re-explained the strat, or showed them graphics like that one. Also, after a handful of pulls, our lead noticed something bizarre.

Mumbo was on black mage. Except they were ONLY using ice spells.

For those who don't know, the basic gameplay loop of black mage is: you spend your MP with more powerful fire spells, then get MP back with weaker ice spells. There's lots more to it than that, black mage players are more powerful than I could ever be, but that's the basics. When used properly, it's a pretty powerful job. When used like this...it was gonna be a long fight.

We did make it through phase 1, somehow, getting it just right enough to scrape people off the floor after getting exploded by rocks. Then it was time for phase 2, which you absolutely cannot do by vibes. Especially for the dps role, which is what Mumbo had to do.

At this point we regretfully had to part ways with our new friend Mumbo the Ice Mage. But he lives on in our memories***, to this day.

*not their real character name; it's been long enough that they may have mended their ways, so I don't want to put them on blast

**I don't know why it's called that either. FFXIV savage strats often have silly names

***and is referenced when we find someone else who similarly does not fundamentally know how to play their job; i.e. the two Mumbos the White we met in DT trial 2 who were curefishing for their lives

[frithwontdie]

the average immigrant is smarter and harder working than you and your crowd of inbred entitled conspiracy theorist crackers<3

Not even close. Very few are, most no. I've worked with immigrats. Some of them were really hard working. Like the Asians I actually enjoyed working with. Who were hard working and smart. And some Hispanics. But most of the others, were incompetent, entitled, arrogant, rude idiots. Most mooch off of our welfare programs, are a net loss to the economy. Claiming they're smart when we had to lower our standards, test scores and things too easy for them. Each proved to be a failure. Oh, and you really need to see who's truly inbred in this scenario. Don't like it? Chimp out about it.

Although rare in the Americas and modern Europe, consanguineous marriage is notably common in North Africa and the Middle East, where it is a traditional and respected aspect of many Arab and Muslim cultures.

Today, 70 percent of all Pakistanis are inbred and in Turkey the amount is between 25-30 percent (Jyllands-Posten, 27/2 2009 “More stillbirths among immigrants”). A rough estimate reveals that close to half of everybody living in the Arab world is inbred. A large percentage of the parents that are blood related come from families where intermarriage has been a tradition for generations.

A BBC investigation in Britain several years ago revealed that at least 55% of the Pakistani community in Britain was married to a first cousin. The Times of India affirmed that “this is thought to be linked to the probability that a British Pakistani family is at least 13 times more likely than the general population to have children with recessive genetic disorders.”

The BBC’s research also discovered that while British Pakistanis accounted for just 3.4% of all births in Britain, they accounted for 30% of all British children with recessive disorders and a higher rate of infant mortality. It is not a surprise, therefore, that, in response to this evidence, a Labour Party MP has called for a ban on first-cousin marriage.

[mybeingthere]

Mary Delany (1700 - 1788), an English artist known for her "paper-mosaics" and her lively correspondence, created 950 works of botanical decoupage.

"With the plant specimen set before her she cut minute particles of coloured paper to represent the petals, stamens, calyx, leaves, veins, stalk and other parts of the plant, and, using lighter and darker paper to form the shading, she stuck them on a black background. By placing one piece of paper upon another she sometimes built up several layers and in a complete picture there might be hundreds of pieces to form one plant. It is thought she first dissected each plant so that she might examine it carefully for accurate portrayal..."

- from Mrs. Delany: her Life and her Flowers, by Ruth Hayden, 1980/2000. (The author was a descendant of Delany's sister Anne.)

Born the daughter of Colonel Bernard Granville, she was a niece of George Granville, 1st Baron Lansdowne. She was coerced into an unhappy marriage with the sixty-year-old Tory MP Alexander Pendarves when she was still only seventeen; her husband died in his sleep seven years later, making her a widow at the age of twenty-four. With little means and no home of her own, she spent time living with various relatives and friends. But having the social freedom allowed by her widowhood, she was able to indulge her artistic and scientific interests.

At the age of forty-three, she married again, to Dr. Patrick Delany, an Irish clergyman. A year later they moved to Dublin, where Dr. Delany had a home. Both husband and wife were very interested in botany and gardening. After twenty-five years of marriage, most of it spent in Ireland, her husband died, leaving her a widow again at the sixty-eight. She had always been an artist, but during her second marriage she had had the time to hone her skills, not only as a gardener, but with her needlework, drawing, and painting.

It was only in her second widowhood, though, when she was in her early seventies, that she began to assemble detailed and botanically accurate depictions of plants in decoupage, using tissue paper and hand coloration. She created nine-hundred and eighty-five of these works, calling them her "Paper Mosaics." She continued making them until her sight began to fail in the last year of her life. She died a month before her eighty-eighth birthday. The ten volumes of her Flora Delanica were eventually bequeathed to the British Museum.

(From the blog of artist and writer Stephen O’Donnell. He is married to writer and graphic designer Gigi Little, with whom he sometimes performs. Their book, The Untold Gaze – a collection of Stephen’s paintings paired with short fiction by 33 authors – was published in October of 2018.)

[allthecanadianpolitics]

OTTAWA - Testy exchanges between the prime minister and his chief opponent ended with the Opposition leader and one of his MPs being ejected from the House of Commons on Tuesday -- and the rest of Conservative caucus walking out of the chamber in protest.

The unusually tense events saw Speaker Greg Fergus caution both Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre to rephrase their comments to avoid making direct accusations about the character of another MP.

Fergus issued a warning to Poilievre after he referred to Trudeau as "the guy who spent the first half of his adult life as a practising racist," referring to photos that emerged during the 2019 election of Trudeau dressed in black and brown face.

Fergus warned Trudeau after he said Poilievre was "showing us exactly what shameful, spineless leadership looks like," and accused him of shaking hands with "white nationalists." [...]

"Any leader that needs the support of a far-right white nationalist group to fundraise and get closer to power does not deserve elected office," the prime minister charged. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[rbrooksdesign]

"EDMT-#30," digital, Oct. 2024, Reginald Brooks

The original DMT (Divisor Matrix Table) reveals ALL natural numbers and their divisors.

The truncated DMT -- tDMT -- is based on the original DMT, only filtered to reveal just those ODDs in Column 1 that are the Running Sums (∑) of the Row 1, i.e. 1-3-7-15-31-...

The EVEN DMT -- EDMT -- replaces the ODDs in Column 1 of the tDMT with the BF1 series -- exactly the same as Row 1-- the Butterfly Fractal 1 (BF1) -- and this sibling matrix version of the tDMT has much to offer -- especially when one takes the Running Sums (∑) along each Row!

Let's talk "containers" for a second: "containers" are a special subset of all natural whole numbers identified as being those that are formed from the simple doubling of numbers -- that it double 1-->2, 2-->4, 4-->8,... these are based on the Exponential Power of 2 (2⁰ =1, 2¹=2, 2²=4, 2³=8,... a.k.a the Butterfly Fractal 1.

Within the "containers" we find a sub-sub-subset: the Mersenne Prime-Perfect Number pairings.

The "containers" are themselves of two sub-subsets: one sub-set or STRAND (let's call it STRAND 1) contains the sub-sub-subset Mp-PNs (as well as other non-Mp-PNs. The other sub-subset -- STRAND 2 -- does NOT. There are other differences for later discussion.

STRAND 1 (contains Mp-PN)

STRAND 2 (does NOT contain Mp-PN)

The two strands alternate positions in the EDMT above -- acting like two double-helical strands wrapping around each other, connected by a common number. This common number is a bond between the two sub-subset STRANDS. It plays one role in the geometry of the lower number STRAND, another role in the geometry of the next higher number STRAND.

Following the BLUE OUTLINES in the above image and the Running Sums shown in the smaller BLACk numbers within, we can see that:

PN 6 x 2 = 12 and 12 is the Complement Rectangle (CR) of the next "container" STRAND PN 28

PN 28 x 2 = 56 and 56 is the CR of the next "container" STRAND holding 120

120 x 2 = 240 and 240 is the CR of the next "container" STRAND holding PN 496 and so on.

Although the first PN 6 is an exception to the rule in that it is in STRAND 2, if we were to COLOR DARK each STRAND 1 and COLOR LIGHT each STRAND 2, we would see them fall nicely into light and dark color alternating color band Columns. The Mp-PNs would ALL (except for PN 6) be in the COLOR DARK Columns as STRAND 1.

Although the alternating geometry of the STRANDS held together by the CR is suggestive of the DNA Double-helix, it's not quite the same as this pattern forms a cone-like expanding spiral-helix as the numbers grow with doubling, and all starting from quantity 1.

Interactive DMT and tDMT for TES (Teachers, Educators and Students) ---here.

[wing-ed-thing]

The Tea Party (Levi x Reader)

Synopsis: After exhausting days, you and Levi lock yourselves in your office for tea to wind down. But after Erwin's new beast of an assignment, people are starting to encroach on your exclusive club.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol, No Reader Pronouns, Section Commander Reader, Non-Binary Hange, Brisket

Notes: The first 4k wrote so smoothly until it didn't

Levi closed the door to your office, leaning his back onto the solid wood behind him. His head tilted against it with a gentle thump as he heaved a deep and steady sigh. You were already halfway across the room, struggling to tear your jacket from your shoulders. By the time you managed to free your left arm, the right cuff had snagged itself on the rolled-up sleeve of your button-up. You whipped it to the floor in frustration, and only then were you released from your garment’s grip. 

You made brief eye contact with Levi, his gaze as tired and exasperated as your own. He locked your office door without even having to look. A few footsteps echoed out in the hallway. You and Levi eyed each other carefully until you heard them fade into the stairwell. Wordlessly, you made your way around your desk, tugging impatiently at the bottom left drawer to take out your kettle. Something had told you that today would be tedious, so you had convenienced yourself by filling it beforehand. 

Levi plucked your jacket off the ground with a single, lazy motion, folding it properly before tossing it onto the corner of your desk. He didn’t have the energy or motivation to scold you; however, given how the week had been going, he didn’t blame you for wanting to peel your uniform off. He might have done the same if another thing had gone awry on the way to your office.

He went straight to the side cart next to your desk as you worked on heating the water. A modestly ornate teapot sat on the little four-wheeled station with a small set of teacups sitting upside down on saucers. The shelf below stored a wide selection of teas and a half-filled sugar bowl, which Levi placed on the top of the cart with the cups. The lowest shelf, which Levi had seldom paid any attention to, held your secret stash of liquors. Levi took one of the glass containers in his hands as he knelt.

“Do you even know how to use a decanter?” he grumbled. You let out a hiss somewhere above on the other side of the desk, having somehow burned yourself. 

“A what?” No wonder it was empty. 

Levi snorted, placing it back in favor of a full bottle. 

Your hand reached down to grip a container of black tea. It wasn’t Levi’s go-to, but a mutual favorite among the small hoard of teas that had been gifted from that Military Police officer you were seeing a few months back. Levi wasn’t one to pass up trying a flight of expensive teas— especially when they weren’t his own— and with your office significantly quieter than his, the arrangement at yours was the obvious choice. Even Captain Levi needed a break sometimes. 

He read the label on the round, stout bottle. Steam wafted into the air as you poured the water into the teapot. The water turned darker immediately, even before you placed the lid.

“I didn’t know there was such a proof,” Levi muttered, popping the top open to give the alcohol a smell. He recoiled, swiftly recapping the bottle.

“Oh, you know those MPs. They love any excuse for a party.” 

“S’that why it didn’t work out?” 

You handed Levi a teacup and saucer, balancing your own in one hand and picking the teapot up by the handle with the other. You shook your head, too tired to be amused.

“Among other things.” 

You slumped down at the table for two in front of your large office window, heaving out a deep sigh. While half of your view was obscured by dull brick— and uncomfortably, another window that peered into yours from a different hallway— the other half allowed you a modestly dreamy view of Trost. You took a sip of your tea. Levi sat across from you, placing the bottle of alcohol between you at the center of the table. With a flick of his wrist, the cap fell onto the wood below.

You raised your brow at him from over the rim of your cup.

“You want to drink?”

Levi only shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He gazed out the window over the lantern lights that littered Trost. 

“You look like you need it.” 

You slouched down farther in your chair until the back nestled against the bend of your neck. One side of your saucer balanced against the folds of the bunched-up fabric at the front of your button-up. You let out another sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed. 

Levi leaned an elbow on the table, cheek in his palm as he continued to stare out the window. He crossed his boots, ankles stretching over the legs of the tripod base. He sipped his tea, eyes almost as glazed over as the glass he gazed through. A vein just above his left eye began to twitch. Levi placed his cup down, letting it clink against the delicate saucer. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm, letting his head bow as his fingers ran through his greasy hair. 

You sat up, struggling as the legs of your chair tilted against the hardwood floor. The inch of liquid in your cup sloshed, almost spilling over the sides. It settled as you traded it for the open bottle of alcohol at the center of the table. Levi’s slender eyes studied you from behind his ruffled bangs. 

“So you did need it.”

“Shut up.”

You took a swig straight from the bottle. Levi sat hunched over, arms crossed on the wooden surface below as he watched you read the label. The liquid splashed against the glass as you swirled it. You glanced at the amber liquid, then at your teacup, and with an amused dip of your lip, you filled it—the leftover tea mixed with the alcohol, producing a lighter color. Levi’s nose crinkled at the sight.

“You degenerate.” He scowled as you took a tentative sip. Your lips pursed, pleasantly surprised. You hummed, offering him the bottle. The corner of Levi’s mouth dipped into a deeper frown, the twitch of his eye almost syncing with the twitch of his lips. 

He snatched the neck from your grip, turning his attention back to the window. Levi turned it in his hand so that the opening faced toward him. The weight of it settled on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. He took his sip from the reverse grip, a series of bubbles bursting at the bottom of the bottle. Levi returned it to the table with a flick of his wrist. 

“Same time next week?” 

You studied the dregs at the bottom of your teacup.

“You think we’ll last a week?” A single drop of brown liquid raced around the circumference of the teacup as you tilted it. Your eyebrow raised on your forehead. Levi let out a grunt as he stood. He muttered something in agreement as he capped your expensive alcohol.

You stood in suit, shrugging two of your leather straps off your shoulders as you plopped down in the chair behind your desk. Levi collected the cup you left behind on a tray as you scooted in to thumb through the files on your desk. He tilted the doorknob down with his elbow before disappearing into the dark hallway. 

You stared at the paperwork in front of you, going so far as picking up a pen to fill out a few forms before Levi came back. You hardly heard him when he did, only noticing the quiet rattle of your newly cleaned tea set as he placed it back on your cart. The amount of paperwork that you managed to finish had already formed into a significant pile to your right.

He spoke your name, placing a hand firmly on your shoulder. 

“That’s enough. It’ll be waiting for you in the morning.” 

You didn’t try to fight him and retired your pen for the night without complaint. Levi held up your jacket, helping you put it on before you exited your office together. 

***

You woke up before the sun even rose, unfortunately. After a night of shallow sleep, you barely even remembered falling asleep or if you had fallen asleep at all. The only evidence of the hours passed was the slowly ticking clock hanging on the wall near the ceiling. You laid in bed, watching the second hand make a few laps before you finally forced yourself out of bed. 

You witnessed the rest of the sunrise passively from your office, noting how the shadows of the various items on your desk moved slowly throughout the day. With the paperwork from the night before long finished, you continued with other administrative work, knowing that the mountain of files would undoubtedly keep you up for another restless night if you didn’t finish them sooner rather than later. 

The door to your office opened suddenly sometime in the early afternoon. Levi shut it swiftly and firmly behind him, letting out a deep huff as he locked it. His hand gripped a cotton handle cover tightly, turning red from the tension and the kettle that steamed below. You hardly looked up from your work, sparing only a single glimpse before clearing away a bit of the chaos in front of you. 

“You come here to hide again? I thought you said we’d pick up next week.”

“If I hear ‘Captain Levi’ again, even once for the rest of the day, I’m going to lose it.” He stormed forward, making a beeline straight for your tea cart. You reached down into your desk drawers to pluck out a trivet, throwing it forward to the edge of your workspace for Levi to place his kettle. It smacked down with a metallic slam before he knelt to rifle through your tea selection. “I swear, those brats don’t understand the meaning of a closed door.”

You glanced from the top of his head to your own door.

“Clearly,” you mused with a roll of your eyes. Levi peered up at you with a deep grimace. 

“Don’t you get smart with me.” He stood, a new tea in his palm, as he took to aggressively making a pot. “You don’t get bothered every minute of every goddamn day.”

“It just means the soldiers look up to you. You’re the one with the special unit, after all,” you noted, an almost mischievous glint in your eyes. Levi’s unspoken annoyance seeped into the atmosphere in waves. You eyed the new tin, tilting your head to read the label. “That’s a new one. I didn’t think you’d like the lavender.”

“Do you want some or not?” Levi frowned despite already pouring a cup for you. You set down your pen— it had already left a sizeable ink spot on your paper— to accept it from him. Levi took his cup to the table by the window, settling in the same seat from the previous night. 

You let him huff to himself, happy to have a nice beverage to sip on while you finished your continued to work. He’d calm himself down, given the quietness. 

At least, so you thought.

A blunt banging sounded somewhere down the hallway, a few muffled calls echoing through the door. You could hardly make out the words, although Levi seemed to have a better idea than you did. 

“Tsk, you hear them down there?” His shoulders bopped with his scoff. He took another sip of his tea. “They come to me for everything.”

“What if it’s important?” you asked absentmindedly, adding an extra loop to your signature on a routine approval form. You played with a stray strand of hair at the back of your neck. 

“It never is.”

Apparently, it was this time. 

A heavy knock sounded at your door, your name resounding from the other side, the same as Levi’s had. Levi frowned, face otherwise unintelligible as you crossed the room to answer. You clicked the lock, opening the entrance only a partial way to face the cadet in the hallway. 

“Very sorry to interrupt,” the cadet saluted, “These came from Commander Erwin. He said you’d know what they were.” She offered you a fat stack of bound papers from the crux of her left arm. You bid a quick thanks before sending the cadet on her way.

You pushed the door shut with your foot, turning slowly to where Levi sat. The five-inch stack of paper slumped limply between your two hands as you offered Levi a vast, blank stare. 

“What are the chances that there’s one of these waiting for you in your mailbox right now?” 

Levi’s shoulders visibly dropped along with his expression. 

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

***

If you had to give Erwin credit for one thing, it was his organizational skill. 

The thick set of files gifted to you was separated into neat, hand-labeled sections. Hell, they were color-coded, making for clear goalposts for you to aim to finish. The entire thing was laid out like a workbook, sandwiching meeting minutes with verification forms, certificates, and other items that required signatures. 

Levi appeared back at your office within minutes of you receiving yours, and sure enough, he held an amount of papers double the size of the file you had received, the paper creasing in his punishing grip.

“So you got one too,” you sighed, arms coiled over your chest.

“I can’t say I was happy about the work, but this—” You scooped up his abandoned teacup just in time as he slammed half the paperwork against your little table. The papers fanned out, revealing scattered, upside-down documents. Levi gestured curtly, one hand shoved into his pocket as he shifted his weight. —“I want that brat cadet’s name because she left mine spilling out all over the floor. The thing didn’t even fit into my mailbox. Hange’s the same, though not as bad as mine.”

He slammed the second half— apparently Hange’s— onto his chair. An apparent quarter of the documents at the bottom had been visibly shuffled. Dividers stuck out among both piles, marking sections that used to have been painstakingly organized by Erwin. 

Levi plucked a note from the middle of the pile.

“As discussed in our last meeting, please have these done by the end of next week,” Levi read aloud. “Thank you for all of your hard work. Signed, Commander Erwin Smith. Like we didn’t know… Pretentious bastard.”

You tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, allowing yourself to wallow for only a few seconds before you turned to grab your copy of the files from your desk. Levi grumbled about a few more things that you just about tuned out. Something about an encyclopedia. You returned with your copy, disregarding Levi’s presence completely as you strode past him to your chair on the opposite side of the table. Levi’s claimed chair still sat full of Hange’s paperwork. 

You took a section of Levi’s files that appeared to have stayed together, taking note of the section and headings as you thumbed through the organized version on your lap. Levi stood over you, foot tapping against your area rug with crossed arms.

“So?” he prompted, neck craning. You glanced between the section in your hand and your version before turning a page on both.

“It looks like it’s all in the same order,” you pronounced, focusing more on the pages than talking. “A few documents that have my name on them, but they seem to be a different color. Mine are organized by section, but I’m sure we can figure out where they go if we collect all the ones that are specific to you and Hange.” You placed Levi’s portion back on the table, holding your own bound file up like a book. 

“See—” You tapped the page where Erwin had taped the same note he left for Levi. —“Erwin even left a smiley face on mine.” Levi huffed, snatching it before crinkling it and disposing of it. 

“Did you happen to see Miche?” You asked with a slight frown, but you decided to disregard Levi’s disposal of your smiley face. He shook his head.

“No, he didn’t have one in his box. Must’ve left as soon as he got it… I don’t blame him.” He took the scattered pile from the table into his hands, corralling them as best he could into an organized stack. He leveled them against the surface of the table. 

“And Hange isn’t getting back for a few days,” you said. Levi hummed affirmatively as you flipped through your work, gauging the content. “You know… I feel like we can bang the whole thing out in a few nights if we take a couple of sections at a time.”

Levi blinked at you. His lip pursed as if he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet. He turned his attention to the window with a sigh and shake his head.

“I’m getting shit sleep anyway. Whatever.”

***

Miche left his bundle on his desk, hoping it would be less daunting in the morning. Instead, when he came into the office, he could have sworn that the pile of paperwork had grown. It stared at him from the corner of his desk for the better part of the morning before he gave in and began working on it just over an hour before lunch. And now, it was almost three hours past standard work time, and Miche had hardly made a dent. 

He took the collection of finished documents in his hand, skimming through the front and back of each. The ensemble had felt like more when Miche was filling everything out. But now, as he took in the indentations of his pen and the thickness of the stack, he couldn’t help but heave a steady breath. 

Miche glanced at his watch, debating whether he wanted to turn in and take a break from his administrative burnout, when he smelled a pleasant scent in the air. He looked around his office, staring off speculatively at the ceiling before rising out of his chair. The light from his desk lamp illuminated the space in front of his office as he ventured out into the hallway, and it only took him a few steps until he was at your door. 

Miche wondered if you also happened to stay late, and if you did, he assumed you were struggling just as much with Erwin’s latest assignment. He took another inhale, now confident that this was where the smell was coming from. Muffled voices spoke on the other side, too quietly to hear. Light illuminated from underneath your office’s entrance. Miche knocked, and the room went silent for a moment before he heard,

“Come in.”

Miche saw Levi first as he sat, ankles crossed at a table across from you. Upon further inspection, the table appeared to have had two leaves added to it, elongating it awkwardly into the center of your office. You turned in your own chair, elbow resting against the chair’s back as you offered Miche a wave, seemingly surprised to see him. The extended table held a smattering of paperwork, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates of half-finished dinner sat adjacent to you and Levi, respectively. The rest of the delicious-smelling dinner that led Miche here sat in covered containers on the wide windowsill. 

“You got it, too, huh?” Levi presumed. Miche nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He eyed the papers, but they were too unorganized to gleam any meaningful information about your progress. 

“How far are you?” Miche asked skeptically with a slight squint of his eyes. The inch-and-a-half-thick pile you held up nearly made him gawk. “You’re kidding.” You offered him a sympathetic expression, gesturing him in.

“You want to join us? We still have some dinner.” 

Miche considered your offer, reaching up as he gripped the lip of the door. He swayed it between his fingers as he thought, his chin jerking downwards as he considered the question he was going to ask.

“We can work on it together?” he questioned, voice almost comically low and soft. Miche’s brows wrinkled, the slightest bit of tension on his forehead. Levi rolled his eyes as his teacup hovered halfway to his lips. 

“What is this? A school?” he scoffed. 

“Levi’s copy got all messed up, so we’ve been working on it together. Same with Hange. Well, they’re not back yet, but theirs got messed up too.” You yawned. “You can join us if you want, but no pressure. Levi makes a great cup of tea, though.” 

“You’re volunteering me now, huh?” 

Miche glanced back at the leftovers on the windowsill and inhaled the sweet aroma of your tea. He gave the door two quick taps, flicking his index finger before wordlessly turning on his heel.

“I’ll be right back.”

***

You decided to call it quits at some ungodly hour of the night. Miche pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the area around his inner eyes as he fought off exhaustion. Neither you nor Levi appeared remotely as tired as you buzzed around the office, putting back the various cups, pens, and other accouterments you used during your group work session. The two of you looked exhausted, Miche decided, but not tired— if there was such an appearance. 

He stood, finally clearing the last of his papers off the table with a yawn. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked for yet another time. You shook your head.

“No, we’re almost wrapped up here. Thanks, Miche.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice, bidding the two of you a good night as he entered the dark hall. Miche could still see the light of your office on by the time he exited Headquarters.

***

Miche was apparently a very talented home cook, and Hange had evidently returned a half day early. You learned both things in approximately the same moment, having just tasted your first spoonful of Miche’s homemade risotto when Hange burst through your door.

“You guys have food?” they cried before Levi sent them off to grab one of those shitty little plates from the floor kitchenette— his words. 

Hange had apparently always been one to stick around Headquarters late, passing up the stairs and down the tiny hallway that faced directly into your office. And not one to be left out, Hange had seemingly forgotten all about their latest Titan-related project to practically knock down your door. Levi made a fourth cup of tea.

That was how Erwin, incidentally, found all of you together. 

Almost a week had passed since he sent out the files to all the section commanders, and while Erwin intended on following up with all four of you before your next meeting, the task had inadvertently slipped his mind. Before he realized, it had already become the end of the day, with the joint gathering looming early on the next day’s schedule. 

Already significantly past business hours, Erwin doubted that you would all still be in the office. At the very least, he could probably catch Hange, he decided as he made his way down the stairwell. The entire headquarters experienced a move a few months back, and while all the section commanders got their own offices adjacent to each other, Erwin’s had been moved two floors up. 

He heard Hange’s voice before he even opened the door to the landing. It echoed throughout the empty hallway as Erwin walked past the locked doors of each section commander’s office before stopping at yours at the end of the block. Hange’s voice grew clearer. Erwin knocked firmly at your door, satisfied at the prospect of being able to check in on you and Hange at the same time. He heard an audible hum from the other side. 

“Who could that be?” he heard Hange ask before you called for him to come in.

An immense, savory scent of cooking meat blasted him as he entered, and much to his surprise, all four of his section commanders were present in your office. At the very least, he had expected Levi and Miche to have already left.

He spotted Hange first, who sat with a cup of tea behind your desk among the pile of paperwork he assigned. Erwin recognized it, even as it was scattered into sections. However, the deconstructed pile didn’t hold his attention as much as the large crockpot at the edge of the desk did.

Miche held the lid with one hand. A pair of tongs was gripped in the other as a pulled meat of some sort steamed from between the claws. He held a bottle of scotch under one arm.

You and Levi sat at the table at the side of the room set for dinner and topped off with your delicate tea set. 

Erwin glanced between the four of you, fighting off the goofy smile that threatened to form on his lips. He shook his head, clearing his throat as his arms coiled across his chest as he tapped his foot.

“So,” he started, unable to help the amusement that laced his voice, “What’s going on here?” Erwin watched as you turned to eye each other, hoping that one of you had an adequate response. 

“Well, uh,” you began, glancing around the room. You gestured to Miche. “Miche made a brisket and potatoes.” 

“And the champagne?” Erwin gestured with his thick brows to the ice bucket at the center of your coffee table. What used to be a sitting area for guests had been moved aside to accommodate your extended table. Three full stacks of papers sat neatly adjacent to your celebratory wine. 

“We finally finished the beast you surprised us with— thanks for that, by the way. Well, expect Four-Eyes over there.” Levi spat in his usual charm, ushering plates to Miche to load with food and back to the table. 

“I’m almost… done.” Hange stood, making a lazy attempt at snatching a filled plate from Levi’s hands. He pivoted, holding it out of their reach.

“No dinner until it’s finished.” He smacked their intruding hand, walking a few steps to the table to place the plate in front of you. You caught him by the sleeve, giving him a gentle tug.

“Hange deserves dinner, too.” You leaned forward, fully turning away from the door as you caught Hange’s eye. “You only have, like, another section, right?” They nodded, and Levi reluctantly gave Miche a fourth plate to fill with food. 

“You finished already?” Erwin asked in surprise, already across your area rug to take in the three piles on your coffee table. He thumbed through them; sure enough, they were all filled out and accounted for. 

“Yeah, with no help from that idiot you sent,” Levi said, finally settling down in his chair across from you. Miche shrugged, gathering the last portion of food in the crock pot.

“I finished yesterday.” By the time Erwin turned around, you, Levi, and Hange were already seated. Miche motioned with his tongs. “Did you… want any?” Hange held up the container of mashed potatoes victoriously, waving it in the air. 

Another plate disappeared from the floor’s kitchenette. 

***

“So much for quiet time,” Levi muttered, scrubbing at the last of the dishes in the kitchenette sink. You let out a light laugh, fatigue making you lost in the glass you were drying. 

“I thought dinner was nice.”

“You know what I mean.” 

You didn’t answer, listening to the sink run. A single light above you flickered dully above as you stood in silence. You sat on the counter behind him, staring off into the hallway window. You didn’t turn even as you heard Levi shut the water off. He tugged the hand towel out of your grip before hanging it on a nearby handle. The glass you were drying was taken too, and placed on the surface next to you. 

“Don’t sit on the counter, it’s disgusting.” He offered his hand as he frowned up at you. You took it, sliding to the floor. Levi hit the light as you left the kitchenette together. “We’re going to have to find somewhere else soon.” You hummed in thought.

“With Erwin’s assignment done, I doubt the late nights will be a regular thing for everyone.” Levi scoffed, holding open the door to the stairwell. “My office should be fine sooner or later.”

“If we ever get that much all at once again—”

“I know you’ll give him an earful tomorrow.” Your voice reverberated in tandem with your footsteps. The moon shone clearly in the sky, illuminating your way as you traveled down. You saw it clearly when you finally made it into the outside courtyard. “We could always use your office.”

“Like hell.”

“Or—” You stopped, turning to face him. –“We can go somewhere that’s not Headquarters?” Levi glanced briefly over the cobblestone streets, hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Somewhere that’s not Trost.”

You nodded, looping your arm through his, tugging him along as you continued to walk.

“Sounds good to me.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I always write the Survey Corps as doing a lot of paperwork, partially because I see them as needing to cut through bureaucratic BS and also because I like giving them mundane things to do. I'd like to think that half of the leadership duty in between kicking ass is just... administrative haha

[antheshewro]

AOT headcanon — (My) personal analysis on Paradis

I previously wrote my own headcanon about Levi's sexuality, based on the official content we have about him. I saw that it was appreciated (23 notes for me are like a hundred so thank you!), which led me to share more headcanons of Attack on Titan. This time, in particular, I'll focus on Paradis as a nation—culture, moral values, etc.

First thing first, Paradis is a country that was secluded and was denied a technological development. Not having the knowledge that there is a whole world outside the walls and beyond the sea, they got to the point where their own development benefitted the military (think about the equipment the soldiers use, which is not really aligned with the middle ages setting). That leads me to believe that the progress in terms of morality got affected by this.

I can see their society being conservative; very "old school" type of approach when it comes to dating, for example. Men had to show up at their women's door to ask for their hands in marriage to their parents, wanting their daughters to be virgins when they got married, expecting them to settle and pop out a few kids. Men were expected to be the heads of their families, having a certain control over their wives. I would mention misogyny as consistent: when a Marleyan called Sasha a 'whore' completely unprovoked; when the Military Police's soldiers were discussing about Historia getting impregnated; the entire ordeal with Mikasa and her mom, about their heritage and the fact that they were targeted to be sold to the black market. It's useless to mention how much prostitutes were hated.

Hookup culture was surely a thing, and in my opinion, a lot of soldiers resorted to it. The Scouts are the branch that has the lowest survival rate, and having a committed relationship meant each time they would leave for their monthly expeditions, they always had the fear of not seeing their wives, husband or children ever again. Erwin, to me, agreed not to date Marie not only to focus on his duty, but also because he couldn't bear to think about her grieving if he died. Because of that, the Scouts either dated between each other or resorted in hook-ups with women who were drooling over soldiers—I can picture only men having those 'adventures'.

The Garrison, until the fall of Wall Maria, were as lazy and drunkards as ever. They only had to protect the civilians from the titans, which gave them a higher survival rate (though we could see how incompetent they were when Shigashina was attacked). That meant they surely had more opportunities to marry and settle; Pixis had a wife, for example. This, however, doesn't exclude the fact that men still hooked up with women, mostly to have someone to warm their beds.

The Military Police had it simple: their job was fairly easier and safer. Women would settle with them because their paychecks were higher; if men had one night stands, it was because they used their own ranks or job as MP officers to be entitled to women's attention. In this case, we know that Nile Dok had the possibility to marry Marie and also be a father, a privilege since he didn't constantly risk his life.

The fact that women were allowed to join the military was surely something that was allowed after ages. Yet, we can see the military where the percentage of male soldiers was surely way higher. The reason why no women became Commanders. When Hange got promoted, I could see tons of Scouts being against it, because of their gender. There's a bit of confusion since they use she/her with Hange sometimes, especially in the anime, but whatever the case is, they aren't male. And therefore, a Commander who's not male was surely a big no-no for a lot of people.

Paradis surely is a country where discrimination is rampant, and some people would turn their heads to the side whenever there was someone being targeted. Classism was very much normalized; the government completely ignored the poorer and lower classes. They never cared about the Underground, and when the fall of Wall Maria happened, with Shiganshina that welcomed most, if not all lower classes, it could be seen when their residents got sent to Wall Rose after evacuating. The government also sent the lower classes outside the walls to "work" when the food supplies weren't enough, and as Armin stated, the situation got a bit better. It wasn't surprising that they were all people who lived in Shiganshina.

I do see the richer classes being reluctant to lend a hand to the homeless, for example, whether it is giving them a few coins or engaging with volunteering. If they can, they avoid it. They're greedy, and if they can exploit the poor, they don't back away from it.

In terms of racism, it wasn't a thing until the discovery of Marley. From that moment, with the entire 'Eldian race' type of stuff, it surely flared up and mostly in the Scouts, because of the Jaegerists. It wouldn't surprise me that once Onyankopon began to help the Survey Corps, a lot of them (especially Floch) resorted to prejudices and blatant snarky remarks about his skin color, and of course, his home country—there was indeed a scene where he got cornered.

Homosexuality... I'm a bit conflicted about it. On one hand, I could see Paradis having several people believing that women had to only date men to assure that the Paradisians wouldn't be extinct one day. On the other hand, history tells us that homosexuality always existed and was a trait shared even in the Middle Ages. The only hint that Paradis had certain religious beliefs is the "cult of the walls"; though, the presence of pastors or some sort or alternate version of Catholicism or anything along those lines, which included the cult of the walls, was surely a thing. There, sodomy was a sin. A lot of homosexual encounters were perhaps shared in private places, or designated ones. In AOT, however, no one had anything to say about Historia and Ymir; everyone understood they weren't surely best friends. And since the barracks were divided into male and female ones (Isabel Magnolia was stunned by it once she joined the Scouts), we can't deny that there were gay cadets, or gay couples/officers among the ranking in each Regiment.

Finally, gender identity. If we push aside the entire "church and conservatives didn't approve that" thing, I can think of transvestites, mostly men. Hange is the only character that's canonically not a man nor a woman. When they joined the Corps, people surely questioned it; some were appalled, others were reluctant. Not out of malice, or better, not all of them, but I would say out of a lack of knowledge. When they saw that Hange was a valid member and Squad Leader, the Scouts realized that they couldn't care less about how Hange defined themselves: gender identity is the last thing you should care about when you're constantly a step away from being chewed like a chewing gum.

This post is ungodly long and I'm aware of it. If you would like me to share more headcanons or if you want me to write about a specific one, my ask box is open ⭐

[sitp-recs]

hi liv! i was wondering if you have any drarry meet-cute recs? i thought i saw a list of it once but cant seem to find it now :(

Hi anon! Sure thing, here are some fun recs with this trope. JulietsEmoPhase writes a lot of meet-cute AUs, I’d definitely check their AO3!

go to it laughing by oflights (T, 1k)

Harry is a marine biologist and Draco is a beluga whale Animagus; they meet on the St. Lawrence River.

Another Side by flightinflame (T, 2k)

Harry loves teaching at Pigdots Nursery. He knows a child named Scorpius is probably magical, but something about the name feels familiar.

He Whose Hand and Eye Are Gentle by khalulu (G, 5k)

Draco reads poems and sometimes writes them. Harry receives poems and sometimes reads them. Rutherford delivers poems via the scenic route. Wombat snores. Eventually, all comes together, with help from the foxes in red bibs and the sumo referee.

Play Dates by bixgirl1 (E, 8k)

Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.

And a Malfoy in a Pear Tree by lauren3210 (E, 8k)

Draco works in a coffee shop. Harry drops by every day to get his fix. Of coffee, Ron.

The Interest Here by disapparater (T, 9k)

Draco has his own morning show on the wireless, which he loves; an ambitious assistant, whom he needs; and days in The Tea Shop, where he relaxes. He also has a new caller on the show, whom he finds bloody annoying.

Once Upon An East End by JulietsEmoPhase (M, 9k)

Bistro owner Harry is closing up for the night when a young man stumbles through his door in need of help. The night takes them in a direction neither had expected.

coffee & communication: a (slow) romance by softlystarstruck (E, 11k)

Nearly a decade after the war, Draco has made a life for himself in Muggle London, writing romance novels and hanging out with his cat. But when he spills iced coffee all over a gorgeous man who turns out to be Harry Potter, has he tumbled into the start of his own romance without realizing it? And how difficult can it be to talk about desire, anyways? He writes smut for a living.

My True Love Gave to Me (Six Jars of Chutney) by goldentruth813 (M, 12k)

On his first post-divorce Christmas Eve without his children, Harry goes to Marks & Spencer hoping to find a bit of his past; what he finds instead is a future.

honey milk tea by softlystarstruck (T, 14k)

When Draco runs into Harry at his favorite boba tea shop and gets so flustered he orders the exact same thing, he has no idea how quickly his life is going to change.

Espresso Patronum by tasteofshapes (T, 15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

An Improbable Bout of Summer Madness by acari (E, 16k)

Draco had planned a quiet, peaceful summer holiday with his son. The last thing he expected was to find Potter here, in Draco's little Cornish retreat. Making fudge in a shop? The idea was too ludicrous for words.

A Hyperactive Fruit, a Nasty Neighbour and a Love Story by synonym4life (E, 20k)

Potter’s pet Niffler is wreaking havoc in Godric’s Hollow and Draco, the Assistant Head to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, is the one who has to deal with it. Repeatedly. The fact that Potter keeps coming to Draco’s office in grey jogging bottoms - repeatedly - does in no way help the matter.

Black Coffee on a Lonely Night by Femme (M, 21k)

Draco owns a café in the city. Harry's a MP who comes in every morning, newspapers in one hand, BlackBerry in the other, and orders a triple espresso macchiato.

Unexpected Turn by Oakstone730 (E, 27k)

English real estate developer Draco Malfoy is in America to find his long lost cousin and escape a scandal. When his car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, his trip takes an unexpected turn.

[r3starttt]

ROOMMATES

PAIRING: ellie x abby

CW: fluff. modern au. hc's.

SUMMARY: Abby and Ellie and the begging of their roommate era <3

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | PERM: @twopeoplee @Kaimythically @greysontheidiot @levilvrr @sapphic-ovaries @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1

Ellie who was awkwardly checking her phone when she first met Abby. Her fingers nervously tapping random stuff on her notes app, on the calculator, sending desperate messages to anyone just to avoid small talk.

there's this blonde girl I'm probably gonna be roommate with she's massive lol

Abby who would glance at Ellie here and there just to make sure the girl was keeping up with the whole tour and to get any sign that could let her know if she was actually interested in the whole roommate thing.

"The girl that came to see the place is a nerd, she's being all awkward and not talking at all. She's also wearing those black converse everyone likes for no reason."

"abs u listen to classical music to study stfu"

Abby who had to speak to Ellie first and directly ask if she was interested or not. And Ellie who struggled to talk but eventually managed to make the deal with Abby.

"Ellie, right?" the freckled cheeks hadn't been that red in a while. Not that she got scared or anything, she just felt extremely panicked thinking the blonde girl in front of her was about to start small talk- plus, she caught her off guard. "So, what do you think?" Abby crossed her arms, an habit- just there she realized how annoyed she looked. She wasn't, of course, but how could the auburn tell?

Abby, who Inmediatelly put the rules. No eating in the couch unless you have visits, and if so, you clean. No noise after 10 pm and no visits without warning nor after 10 pm either. You wash your dishes, you cook your food. bla bla. bla

"Hey so... uhm" Ellie's hands felt sweaty, her fingers fidgeted with each other as she let herself rest comfortably against the doorframe of Abby's room, who looked attentive.

The blonde's arms and legs crossed as she rested against her chair, seemingly frustrated by some stuff she was working on in her desk. "My... uh, I'm bringing someone? I was wondering- it's Friday, maybe I-"

"Yeah, I dont mind it. Just try to keep it quiet"

Abby who was also the first to break the rules

And there she was, flirting with the girl Ellie had fought so much to gain the smallest attention- "Yeah? is that so? oh... really?" currently one am and whatever stress she'd gathered along the week long forgotten.

Ellie who eventually put her own rules. And who got humbled every time because she didn't really care so Abby was the one reminding her about it.

"Why don't you just take mine?" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full, her phone in one hand and her bowl of cereal in the other as she watched the blonde walk all over the small kitchen.

Abby had been around five minutes trying to find a clean tupper of her own, almost having a crisis because oh she was one long minute late already. "You told me not to touch your stuff"

Abby who's super cool to Ellie's eyes, and Ellie who brags about her very cool roommate who's also very smart and strong and nice and sweet and nerdy and many cute stuff.

"didn't you say you wanted to find other place last week?"

"shut up jesse, she just- she was so annoying that day, okay? we are good now"

"we? bro she doesn't even talk to you"

Abby who made it feel illegal to even walk pass her room if her door was open? she was so strict over privacy matters. And Ellie who couldn't care less, taking any chance she had to glance at the room.

"You don't like star wars? what's with the poster then-" and only there, with Abby's look and the awkward silence, Ellie realized she had just fucked the little chance she had to get along with the blonde.

Abby, who eventually stopped caring so much about privacy matters and rules, it was practically impossible. Ellie was charming in her own way, and Abby wasn't so serious after all.

"The movie was lame" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full of a mix of chocolate and whatever else. Abby’s fingers stopped their track between the blonde locks being unbraided- her face into a frown as she met Ellie’s eyes. "You don't like anything! it's the fifth-" Their voices overlapped, Ellie denying whatever statement the blonde was trying to explain or prove. "You choose the next one and better keep quiet-" and again, shouting and anxious eating from Ellie who couldn't feel more comfortable suddenly.