#Tory collapse

[hjohn3]

The Tory Migration Catastrophe

How Conservative Immigration Policy Will Destroy Its Thatcherite Model

Source: The Financial Times

By Honest John

LIKE A desperate gambler deciding to bet his shirt on one last turn of the roulette wheel, Rishi Sunak has staked his entire political reputation on the latest iteration of the Tories’ Rwanda bill. This is a piece of legislation which has been declared illegal by the British Supreme Court; which has so far cost the British taxpayer £240m with a further £50m due to be paid to Rwanda next year; which is considered as impractical as it is morally questionable and which has seen precisely zero asylum seekers so far sent to Rwanda to have their claims processed. This sad wheeze is going to be dragged before the House of Commons once more, while Sunak desperately claims black is white and that Rwanda can miraculously become a safe country for asylum seekers by the passing of a law in Westminster. The Prime Minister’s determination to turn Tuesday’s vote on the Safety of Rwanda (Asylum and Immigration) Bill into effectively a vote of confidence in his leadership is simultaneously reckless and absurd. Sunak’s desperation to quieten the increasing insurrectionary noises from his party’s right wing in the wake of the dismissal of Suella Braverman, has led him to to invest all his hopes in a piece of legislation for which there is no evidence will succeed in deterring the “small boats” (its stated claim), which will place the U.K. once again in breach of international law and will succeed only in enriching the government of Rwanda, incredulously receiving millions of pounds of British taxpayers’ money for its civic infrastructure, gifted by a country whose own infrastructure is falling apart. It is actually hard to find anyone outside the fevered confines of Sunak’s inner circle who supports the plan or thinks it will work. Apart perhaps from the government of Rwanda itself that is.

It is easy to laugh at the infantile antics of a government that, in any real sense, has ceased to function and to treat this latest act in the Tory psychodrama as the piece of absurdist political theatre it undoubtedly is, but the Rwanda bill is simply the congealing icing on the top of a poisonous cake that the Conservatives have been serving up for years, masquerading as migration “policy”. This is legislation that is as contradictory as it is cruel; as performative as it is populist. For the Conservatives, migration is their key emergency break glass area of public policy. When everything else that they and the succession of hopeless lightweights they have foisted on the country as Prime Ministers, has turned to dung at their touch, they still believe that the prejudice and hatred of “the British People” toward foreigners and immigrants has no bottom level: for Tories you simply cannot go too low on immigration. The Rwanda scheme - when it was first cooked up in the days of Boris Johnson and Priti Patel - had nothing in reality to do with deterring asylum seekers from trying to cross the Channel to Britain; it was all about trying to appeal to a mythical “Red Wall” voter for whom no amount of cruelty, illegality and contempt was too much when it came to migrants. As their polling figures slumped and by election and council election results confirmed their worst electoral fears, the Conservatives still believed that victimising the victims could yet turn it around for them - no matter the dark forces their racist and bile-filled rhetoric might unleash: if they could just once again gaslight the electorate into believing that all the catastrophes of the last fourteen years of Tory rule are, in fact, the fault of incoming foreigners, all may yet be well.

This dismal flirting with the fascist playbook may have resulted in the headline-catching idiocy of Sunak’s latest Rwanda wheeze, but beneath that blather James Cleverley has announced planned measures that are far more significant, far more damaging, and far more frightening than any amount of ludicrous assertions about the Rwanda scheme. Tired of being taunted by Labour and others about the huge rise in legal migration (its net increase topped 600,000 in 2022) despite all the Tory promises to bring the numbers down over the last fourteen years, the Conservatives’ response is to quite literally attack, and potentially destroy, its own Thatcherite economic model.

For over forty years, Tory politicians have extolled Britain’s “flexible” workforce; its deregulated system; its low wage/low unemployment economy and its marketised society. Indeed, for years we were told by politicians on the right and the left that in a globalised world, mobile and non-unionised workforces, cheap production costs, outsourced supply lines and minimal regulation was essential to the easy access, low price, and plentiful supply digital capitalism that has taken hold in Britain. Key to the success of this model has been migrant labour, first from the EU and now from a swathe of sub-Saharan African, Middle Eastern and South Asian countries whose residents have been offered visas to replace the low wage flexible European workers that post-Brexit Britain apparently no longer wants. The legal migrants that the Conservatives are now in such a lather about are an essential component of the Thatcherite economic model they have all been promoting to us for decades. If, as Cleverley maintains, the government wishes to reduce net migration figures by 300,000 in 2024, then that is 300,000 workers not available to drive lorries, deliver Amazon parcels, pick our crops, clean our offices, valet our cars, serve in our restaurants and, crucially staff our hospitals and care homes. By creating a shortage of deregulated low wage labour, the Tories will simultaneously damage large parts of the service economy and drive up wages, and with it inflation. In their desperate belief that hatred of foreigners will somehow save them from oblivion at the next General Election, the Conservatives are prepared to throw overboard an approach to employment and wages that has sustained them for nearly two generations and was one of the driving ideological impulses on the right that drove Brexit. The revolution has truly begun to eat itself.

Apart from the casual abandonment of what has been the essence of right-wing Toryism for years, Cleverley has also managed to introduce the class-based nastiness of the Sklled Worker minimum salary threshold of £38,700 pa that legal migrants and their dependents must meet. This is a measure that will drive families apart, possibly force British citizens, married to foreigners but earning below the threshold, to emigrate to be with their loved ones and cause untold damage to the university sector (one of the few growth areas of the British economy) and the NHS and care sector, already on its knees after years of austerity and disproportionately reliant on migrant labour. It is as if the Tories are not content with the calamities that austerity, Brexit and Trussonomics have already wrought on British society: with this latest episode of ill-thought through prejudicial nonsense, they seem to want to finish it off altogether. I have predicted for some time the implosion of modern Toryism - its Thatcherite ideology a busted flush and its Brexit nationalist makeover lacking in depth or practical solutions; but what I hadn’t bargained for was that the Tories would try to take the whole country down with them.

Never has a government looked more threadbare, pointless, desperate and unlovable. All they have left to offer is hatred, racism and self-defeating vindictiveness. If Sunak’s absurd posturing over his doomed Rwanda bill results in his resignation before Christmas and a January General Election, the “British People” that this band of charlatans and incompetents keep claiming to speak for, but who in reality they do not understand, will breathe a sigh of relief, because we the people will at last be given the opportunity to cast this catastrophic version of Toryism into an electoral oblivion it so richly deserves and from which it will, hopefully, never emerge.

Migration may yet be modern Conservatism’s epitaph.

10th December 2023

[froggi-mushroom]

Finding out that over 100 public schools in the UK were build with flimsy concrete and that the tory government knew that it had to be replaced for years but did nothing about it shows exactly why you should never fucking vote conservative

[aeolianblues]

They managed to lose Tunbridge Wells. Fucking Tunbridge Wells! Hahahaa.

[sandymybeloved]

waking up this morning to see the exit poll over-predicted for the tories and reform, amazing, wonderful, thrilled

[taliejane]

Omfg UK and US 18-25s I'm begging you to vote in the general/presidential election 😭😭😭 young people already don't vote and then to actively abstain (I get it, all your options suck) but then politicians will have zero reason to appeal to you ever! You're entirely excluding yourselves from the conversation! Vote strategically to vote OUT the worst dude but just vote fr

I know they're all doing genocide and it's fucked but like you literally are not preventing genocide by not voting you're just sitting on your hands

[chthonicgodling]

re: ITS STILL NOT A THROUPLE post oh I’m unwell. oh I’m so unwell. an I love you has hit the [WHATEVER THIS IS] and im literally dissolving.

once again this utterly insane dynamic is,.,, so much MORE delicious to me. im dissolving. im dissolving. No I stand by this in that a,, platonic— platonic in the fun and sexy way if you 🤪 catch my drift 🤪 and my Many Many Poasts 🤪 — a platonic “because I love you you idiot” can be, gesturing, so much MORE potent and iM—

okay listen I’m trying to be really vague about this I WILL make an update post once I have actual Elysium news and not just liveblogging things line by line but since the collapse of twitter you now have to put up with me liveblogging line by line with no real context attached. come disintegrate with me though

[aralioideae]

trying not to beat myself up too much about not being able to vote today b/c I dont have photo id and was too caught up in being ill and moving house to apply for a postal vote in time when the real problem is that photo id is now required to vote for literally no good reason other than voter suppression but it's hard not to feel like it's a huge moral failing that is entirely on me

[northirish]

This country is literally falling apart at the seams, what the fuck man.

[thequeensbastardenglish]

Genuinely think we all really need to start asking ourselves how far we're willing to go to protect the nhs

[benthic-girl]

Idk at least the British election will be funny

[hjohn3]

The People Who Lie to Themselves

The Dishonesty at the Heart of Keir Starmer’s Labour

Source: iStock Photos

By Honest John

THAT THE Conservatives are political toast is now a truism of British politics. It seems everything Rushi Sunak touches turns to blight. With his increasingly wan smile, the Prime Minister frequently gives the impression of simply going through the motions, as though he himself no longer believes in the bizarre concoction of austerity economics and crude populism that has characterised his rudderless premiership. The latest scandal of aerated concrete threatening the physical collapse of schools and hospitals symbolises Tory Britain: after well over 13 years of ruinous Conservative rule, the country feels like it is literally falling to bits. With electoral projections predicting a Labour majority of anything between 40 and 140 seats at the next General Election, if the government ever did have a “narrow path to victory” as Isaac Levido claimed eight months ago, it now seems overgrown, mountainous and littered with fallen concrete.

With an average opinion poll lead of 18 points, historically unassailable at this stage In the electoral cycle, Keir Starmer’s Labour seem destined for power, possibly as soon as May next year. The party, pursuing an almost carbon copy of the tactics employed by New Labour in 1996/97 have been careful to shut down any conceivable Tory attack line by diluting, postponing and removing most of the headline policies that had made the Labour offer truly distinctive as recently as last year’s Party Conference. There has been much disappointment and complaining on the left at Starmer’s and Reeves’ caution, lack of ambition and even political cowardice at what appears to be a surrendering of any recognisable progressive agenda to the Tory settlement even as that very settlement appears to be in its death throes. The question of what Starmer’s Labour stands for as it gets ever closer to becoming the next government of the U.K. is constantly raised. Whereas I share those concerns, there seems to me to be something far darker at the heart of the Labour project that goes beyond normal electoral calculus: Labour is actually being wilfully or naively dishonest with the British people.

That dishonesty is fiscal, but also political.

Labour’s current fiscal policies are rightly criticised by disappointed supporters as symbolising the government-in-waiting’s lack of political courage, but are rarely taken to task for their lack of economic coherence. In short order, Rachel Reeves has “ruled out” increasing the top rate of income tax; increasing corporation tax above 25%; any increased borrowing for the first two years in government, and any form of wealth tax. Keir Starmer has recently joined the closing down of fiscal options by promising no increase in income tax at all. The Right have traditionally challenged past Labour Party spending plans with the knowing sneer “where’s the money coming from?”. Now that question is one of genuine objective political curiosity: how on earth is Labour going to govern after it has voluntarily committed to raise no new money whatsoever?

It actually gets worse. It seems to have been forgotten (and I sometimes think by Rachel Reeves too) that Jeremy Hunt’s Autumn Statement last year, designed to stabilise the money markets after Liz Truss’ crazed tax cutting experiment, not only launched Tory Austerity 2.0 by keeping public spending below headline inflation, but also committed to reduce current spending by £22bn and capital spending by £14bn in 2025/26. Labour has signed up to the government’s spending plans and therefore has effectively committed itself to public spending cuts in its second year in office. Rachel Reeves’ fiscal rule (public debt to be less than public income by 2029) is of a piece with this.

The Labour response to criticism of its lack of spending plans, in a reprise of Truss’ mantras, is that Labour wishes to grow the economy and that this cannot be achieved by increased taxation. This of course takes as read the tired Tory assertion that all taxation is derived from income and that increased taxation therefore suppresses consumer demand. This sophistry ignores what governments can do to stimulate the economy with increased revenues, from whatever source, and refuses to countenance the reform of taxation of wealth and property. Even if one puts unexplored policy options to one side (including the rebasing of Council Tax) Labour seems to believe that the economy will grow as if by magic; that the very appearance of a Labour government will automatically attract inward investment, stimulate new businesses, fund capital infrastructure projects and increase wages. To the question “How?” the Labour front bench has no answer.

The fact is that Reeves at least, as a former economist at the Bank of England, knows full well that growth does not occur spontaneously. Investment-led growth requires deployment of fiscal actions by the government, whether that is through the tax breaks, quantitative easing, low corporation tax, low interest rates or the selling off of state assets favoured by the Right, or through the stimulus economics, capital infrastructure spend, government-backed lending and job creation initiatives favoured by the Left. Growth always requires decisive action by the Treasury. To pretend otherwise is either delusional, economically illiterate or, that word again, dishonest.

Starmer and his front bench, given their relentless and highly effective, critique of modern Toryism, also understand that the series of policy disasters inflicted by successive Conservative regimes - the social vandalism of austerity; the self harm of Brexit; the magical thinking of Trussonomics and the inadequate neo-Thatcherism of the hapless Sunak - has resulted in untold damage to the fabric of the British economy, to the resilience and adequacy of public services and to people’s standards of living. Labour know that the unprecedented ruin wrought by the various Tory iterations can’t be “fixed” by a little policy tinkering, some structural reform and fiscal conservatism. To imply otherwise is beyond dishonesty; it is a lie.

Politically, the public’s disgust with the Tories is real. The inchoate anti-austerity that could be detected in the Brexit vote, and even in the vote for Boris Johnson’s offer in 2019, is real. However, unlike its response to those choices, this time the public refuses to be gaslighted by the right wing media. Voters have accurately joined up the dots between Cameron’s “debt reduction” falsehoods of 2010 and the lived reality today of a collapsing NHS and crumbling classrooms. The public not unreasonably want ambulances to turn up, police to manage low level crime, their councils to have enough money to regenerate their town centres, for the unaccountable water companies to stop spewing sewage into the nation’s waterways, for trains to run on time, waiting lists to come down, courts to function and public buildings not to collapse. The Labour critique has done its job, but the opposition’s implication that these public expectations can be met solely by growth and “reform” and no restitution of the public spending cuts implemented by the Tories, is fundamentally and politically dishonest.

In truth, Labour once in office, will live its dishonesty. Perhaps, like Starmer’s cheerleaders earnestly hope, the new government will reverse all its commitments not to increase existing or introduce new taxes, drop Reeves’ fiscal rule and its proclaimed adherence to the 2022 Tory financial settlement, and set about raising revenue in order to stimulate the growth it claims it wants. Or perhaps it will militantly keep its financial word but achieve no meaningful change and let down the millions of voters Labour had encouraged to turn to it to reverse the destruction of the Tory years. There is no way out of this bind - Labour will be unable to avoid the charge of dishonesty whatever it does, or chooses not to do. Starmer and his team may be able lie to themselves in opposition, but as the Tories have discovered to their cost, you can’t lie to the electorate when in government and hope, for any length of time, to get away with it.

7th September 2023

[reiverreturns]

another morning on normal island is underway once again

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

So, okay, there's a very good chance that some very significant Tories are going to lose seats tonight. The party Chair is currently having to sit through his seat going to a recount, when it was supposed to be one of the safest Tory seats in the country.

And one of the Tories in danger is Penny Mordaunt. Meanwhile, it's been leaked that Rishi Sunak will announce his resignation in the morning.

So... Who the hell, if both of those come true, is going to take over as Tory leader? There's no one left! Gove has stood down! Neither Braverman nor Badenoch has the skill or charisma to hold the position for longer than maybe a week before the entire House of Commons sniggers at them every time we speak! Total party collapse, possibly

[melancholia-ennui]

Gentle reminder to UK folks that if you don't like Labour there is no better election than this one to vote for a third party or independent who actually stands for what you believe in.

Every major poll is predicting a Labour landslide and a total collapse of the Tory party. The only reason to tactically vote Labour to "keep the Tories out" is if in exactly your seat the Tories (or worse Reform) are projected to be first or second place and no one else is close - but in a lot of seats the predicted second is not the Tories, it's Lib Dems or SNP or in some places even Greens, and that gives you the freedom to vote for what you believe in because the Tories aren't gonna get that seat anyway.

Remember: UK is not the US, and despite all that Labour and the Tories try to do this is not a two-party state. Vote pragmatically, yes, and mindful of harm reduction, but be rational and informed as well.

[sunflowerim]

some lines from Solitaire that just hit too close to home

“Tori,” says Becky, “you look a little bit like you want to kill yourself.”

I deflate into a chair and nod philosophically. “It’s funny because it’s true.”

//

My name is Victoria Spring. I think you should know that I make up a lot of stuff in my head and then get sad about it. I like to sleep and I like to blog. I am going to die someday.

//

Sometimes I hate people. This is probably very bad for my mental health.

//

personally, thinking or talking too much about “boy issues” makes me want to shoot myself in the face.

//

I am a vacuum. I am void. I am nothing.

//

THE FIRST THING I do when I get home from school is collapse onto my bed and turn on my laptop. This happens every single day. If I’m not at school, you can guarantee that my laptop will be somewhere within a two-meter radius of my heart. My laptop is my soul mate.

//

(charlie to tori): “You like to act as if you care about nothing, and if you carry on like that, then you’re going to drown in the abyss you have imagined for yourself.”

//

I instantly wish I’d just shut up. I always do this thing where I accidentally say self-deprecating stuff that makes other people feel really awkward, especially when it’s true.

//

I really don’t do anything unless I actually want to do it. And most of the time I don’t want to do anything at all

//

One day I’m going to forget how to wake up.

//

Smoking is so pointless. The only reason I can think of for smoking is if you want to die. I don’t know. Maybe they all want to die.

//

When you watch a film, you’re sort of an outsider looking in. With a book—you’re right there. You are inside. You are the main character.

//

You think you’ve met bad people, and then you meet people who are worse.

//

I don’t want people to be worried about me. There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want people to try and understand why I am the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that. And I don’t understand yet. I don’t want people to interfere. I don’t want people in my head, picking out this and that, permanently picking up the broken pieces of me.

//

We’re so used to disaster that we accept it. We think we deserve it.

//

Did you have a bad day?”

“Yes. Always.”

//

Nobody is honest; nobody is real. You can’t trust anyone or anything. Emotions are humanity’s fatal disease. And we’re all dying.

//

I haven’t ever known what I wanted out of life. Until now. I sort of want to be dead.

Tori's pov really is something.

[tkwrites]

Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself) - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Summary: Still upset about finding out about Sarah from Brady, Jack has some hesitations when he and Luke come to town for the Finals. Can he get over himself enough to see what Quinn and Sarah have is real?

Warnings: Angst, sibling fighting, light body shaming

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for almost three months and tossing around ideas for it since December. On Thursday, something clicked into place, and the story just fell together. I really like the way it turned out, and I hope you like it too! 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

 Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself)

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah was sitting in the living room, trying not to freak out. Their night before had been one to remember, and her hips were still sore and achy from it in the most satisfying way. 

But even remembering Quinn giving her so many orgasms she lost count — murmuring how proud he was of her with each and every one of them — couldn’t take away from the fact that his brothers were about to arrive. 

Sarah and her siblings were close, but Quinn and his brothers were closer. They were all in the same phase of life - all playing professional hockey, all unmarried, and all figuring things out. Even Luke, who she knew, had been dating his girlfriend Kylee for two and a half years wasn’t in a place to get married, especially not while Kylee was still in school. 

It was so different from her own siblings, who were both in the young family stage of life while she was still figuring out no-longer-single life and dating-a-professional-athlete life. 

She loved her siblings, but they had less in common than they used to.

It felt like a huge test to be accepted by his family — his best friends. She wasn’t totally sure what she’d do if they didn’t like her. 

When she’d brought that up to Quinn after they’d finally collapsed into bed, he had pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and assured her, “they’re going to love you. I love you, so they’re going to love you.” 

She hadn’t pointed out how flawed his logic was. 

Quinn appeared at her side, holding a shot of rum, “here, I think you might need this.” 

“I thought you said I don’t have anything to be worried about!”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “but you think I should take a shot?” 

He gulped nervously, “Jack can just be kind of a lot. I’m not sure he’s totally over the whole, I didn’t tell him first thing.” 

Her eyes went wide, and while Quinn had the best of intentions, he realized what a stupid move this was. Instead of calming her down, he was making her more anxious. He tried to backtrack, “you don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” he said before starting back to the bar — intent on dumping the alcohol down the drain.

“No, come back.” 

He turned, and she reached for the small glass, “it will take the edge off.”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed the liquor into her mouth. As soon as she’d swallowed, she pulled a face, “ugh, I hate shots. Remind me to never do that again.” 

Laughing, he lifted the glass out of her hands and leaned down to kiss her. They stayed that way for a while, each of them remembering slices of the night before. 

His phone trilled. He would have picked them all up from the airport, but Jack had insisted on renting a car for them to use while they were here, so there was no need.

The dinner they’d ordered was on it’s way, and everything was going to be fine. 

Having finished her finals the day before, Sarah had spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping in Quinn’s bed. He’d left for practice, then crawled back in bed with her when he got home, happy to fall asleep again, holding her close.

As a result, he looked refreshed and clear headed. 

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator dinged. 

She nodded, standing and wrapping her arms around his torso. 

She was wearing the same jeans she’d worn when she met the team and a cream colored top, partially unbuttoned, so he could see just a hint of her cleavage.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured. 

The very fact that he kept saying it made Sarah wonder if he was trying to convince himself into believing it. 

She should have worn the green dress. When she’d been packing to stay at Quinn’s overnight, she’d convinced herself the boyfriend jeans were lucky enough now, and she didn’t need to pull out the big guns. Plus, she didn’t want Quinn to think she only had one outfit she wore when she was nervous. Now, that didn’t seem like it mattered much, and she wished she had the comforting assurance of it with her. 

When Quinn opened the door and his brothers came tumbling into the apartment, Sarah immediately understood what her own brother had missed out on by only having two sisters. 

They were so distinctly…male. There was a lot of congratulatory hair mussing and punching going on in celebration of Quinn making the finals.

Ellen was dutifully waiting for them to be done so she could hug her eldest. 

To Sarah’s surprise, Jim was the first one to greet her, offering a hug she gladly accepted. 

When they broke apart, Quinn moved to introduce everyone, “Sarah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him, “these are my brothers Jack and Luke. Guys, this is Sarah.” 

Luke gave her a shy smile and offered her a hand to shake. Jack didn’t move other than to give her a curt nod. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face she hoped masked her disappointment at his clipped response. 

Ellen rolled her eyes and crossed the room to give her a hug. 

The front desk buzzed up to let them know their food was delivered, and Sarah offered to go collect it just to get away from the tense meeting. 

When they sat down to eat, Sarah was able to engage Luke in conversation, and they started talking about his girlfriend Kylee, who would be coming out once she had finished her finals. Once the ice was broken, Luke was easy to talk to, and they swapped stories about work and growing up.

More than once in their conversation, Sarah caught Ellen shooting disappointed looks at her middle son, who couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, but didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, and Jack spoke for the first time, “so, Sarah, what are you going to do when you’re done with school?” His tone was almost accusatory, like he expected her to say she would be moving to Dubai and leaving Quinn behind.

“I’m not really sure yet. I like working at the aquarium, so I wouldn’t mind staying there. But if I could get a job in conservation, that would be ideal. I feel more passionate about it.” 

“What would you do in conservation?” he asked. It sounded a little like they were rehearsed questions on Jacks part, as if he were trying to appease someone by making conversation but didn’t actually care much about the subject. 

“Well, there’s a lot that crosses over in terms of what can be done in the wild to make our oceans more habitable to everything that lives in them. And if we need to do any rescue and rehab, I can help care for most of those animals.” 

“So you’re like a vet?” 

“No, I can’t administer any medical treatment, but I can assist. I thought about going into veterinary medicine, but it would have meant seven more years of school, and there’s a lot of aspects of being a vet that terrify me.” 

“Like what?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, as if her admitting she had weaknesses was completely unexpected. 

Sarah flicked a glance at Quinn, who was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was getting at. 

“Well, I’m not great with blood, for one. Plus, the smell of hospitals tends to give me panic attacks.” 

Somehow, this admission made Jack relax. She was human, after all. When they met June, she was all smiles and rainbows and didn’t admit to having faults of any kind. Quinn talked about how genuine Sarah was, but Jack wanted to see it for himself. 

Quinns eyes darted to her, and she gave him a small smile. 

“What is it about hospitals?” Jim asked. 

She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn’s hand under the table. Their fingers entwined, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“My mom died of cancer, so she spent a good portion of the last six months of her life in a hospital, and every time I came home, I would have to see her there. The smell always transports me straight back.” 

Quinn didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, blinking a few times. 

Jack looked between them and felt something twist in his gut. This was so much more serious than he wanted to believe. He’d seen the signs from Quinn — the dreamy look he often got when he talked about her, and how it seemed like they were together all the time, or the way he talked about the future, like he couldn’t envision one without her in it. 

The two sides of his mind warred. On one hand, he was glad Quinn found her, but on the other, he was still pissed he was the last one to know. He and Quinn were supposed to be best friends as well as brothers. He’d never keep something like that from Quinn, and it hurt every time he remembered Brady asking, “so what do you think of Sarah?”

Then, there was the whole issue of Sarah herself. Not that she was bad looking. She was pretty. But June was gorgeous, and Jack couldn’t help but think that Sarah was a bit of a step down. 

The meal ended on less tense terms than it started on, and Quinn took Sarah home. 

“Was it okay?” he asked. 

She knotted her fingers together in her lap, “I don’t know. Was it? You know Jack better than I do.” 

One of his hands dragged over his face before he reached for hers. 

Gratefully, she took it, glad for the reassurance of his touch. 

He felt off kilter. The end was such a stark contrast to the beginning that he had a hard time reconciling that morning as part of the same day. 

“Can you come up for a minute?” she asked when he pulled in front of her building. 

He glanced over with raised eyebrows only to find nervousness clearly written on her face. “Yeah, of course,” he said and flipped around to find a spot to park. 

They got up to her apartment, which she knew would be empty - Eunice had gone home to stay with her parents for a week, and Jane was working. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“What’s up?” Quinn asked, his hands heavy and comforting on the small of her back. 

“I just —” Sarah could feel the tears she’d pushed off for the drive home forcing their way up to the surface. 

She sniffed, and Quinn pulled back, “what’s wrong?” 

Sarah wiped her cheeks. “What if —” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she needed to. Talking about it would make it better. She knew that, but it was still scary as hell to voice the anxiety that was eating away at her peace of mind. Not only was the summer going to fucking suck, “I think Jack hates me.” 

Something behind his sternum fractured, “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she asked, “really? Because it doesn’t seem like he likes me very much.”

“I think he just needs time to adjust to the situation. He’s still mad at me that I didn’t tell them first.”

“I don’t understand that either. My sister was the second person I told.” Technically, she’d been the 4th with her roommates, but no need to split hairs. Rachel was the second person she’d told on purpose.

He pulled a calming breath into his chest. “I think Brady mentioned June to you?” She nodded, and he continued, “June was…” how did he even find the right words? “We dated for a long time. Way longer than we should have. We weren’t good together. I mean, you know all that weird shit she had about sex, and she would break up with me every few months, then come back after a few days, begging to get back together.” 

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It wasn’t great,” he admitted ruefully. “Anyway, my family never really came out and said they didn’t like her. They only said it after I called it off for good. I remember Jack told me, ‘Thank god, I never liked that bitch.’” 

Sarah wrinkled her nose, and Quinn laughed, “yeah. Brady was the only one who told it to me straight from the beginning. He was pretty frank with me; his family doesn’t really beat around the bush about anything. He encouraged me to break it off for good. Anyway, when we met,” he gestured between them, “I was kind of hesitant to tell anyone. Not because I thought you were like June. You’re not. In any way. But I didn’t… I didn’t really trust my own judgment, you know?” 

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. That was something they could unpack later.

“I wanted Brady to meet you first since he and Emma had been so honest.” 

This, she knew from conversations with Ellen and Brady himself, but it was nice to hear it from Quinn. 

“Before I had a chance to tell him, Brady asked Jack what he thought of you while they were playing in Ottawa, and he called me, pretty pissed. I think he’s still caught on that.” 

Pursing her lips, she wasn’t totally sure what the protocol for this was. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t want —” she broke off, feeling she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want Jack to come between them. She didn’t want to have to forge a new relationship when Quinn’s brother and best friend didn’t like her, and she didn’t want to put Quinn in a position where he would have to choose.

That fracturing feeling was back. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn said, picking up on what he thought the subtext of the conversation was as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think he just needs time. Jack doesn’t really hate anyone. It’s not in his nature.” 

“Was he like this with Kylee?” 

“No, but Luke and Kylee were friends in high school and college, so we knew her before they started dating.” 

She thunked her forehead onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. 

One of his hands ran over her hair, “I’m sorry. I know this put you in a really weird position.” 

She felt his words in his chest at the same time she heard them and swallowed the feeling whole. 

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, nuzzling into his shirt

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. Definitive. Simple. Straight to the point. 

She knew she sounded whiney, but she needed to say it, “but what happens if he never likes me? I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose.” 

“Jack’ll come around. He’s never been able to hold grudges for very long.”

Looking up at him, then, hope filled her face, and he kissed her, hoping it reassured her. He was sure Jack would come around as soon as he could get his head out of his ass.  

“I’m sorry, but I need to get back,” he said as gently as he could. Not only was there a game tomorrow, he knew his brothers would want to talk. 

Swallowing down the loneliness of being in the apartment by herself for the night, she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

‘Tomorrow,” he repeated before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. One more?”

He couldn't resist.

One turned into six or seven, and he pulled away feeling light. “Jack’ll come around,” he assured again before kissing her once more and turning to go. 

“I mean, she’s pretty and all,” Jack was saying as they stood in the living room. Their parents had gone to bed, so it was best to have this conversation on the floor below. “But don’t you think she’s a little big?”

Luke stared at Jack while Quinn glared at him. “What?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, she has a pretty face, but her thighs are kind of huge.” 

Luke spoke before Quinn could follow through with punching his brother in the face. “Is this because you actually think that, or because you’re mad Quinn didn’t trust you enough to tell you first?” 

“Trust us,” Jack corrected through a jaw clenched so tight, it answered Lukes question for him. 

“Fine. Whatever,” Luke said. He’d come to terms with it. He had been too scared to tell Quinn what he thought of June. After thinking it over, it did make sense for him to go to the only person in his life who made their concerns clear and keep Sarah from everyone else. They got attached to June, or at least to the idea of her. Luke had never really liked her. But he liked the idea of Quinn having a girlfriend. Of him having someone here in Van while the rest of them were all out east. 

Now that he had met Sarah in person, not just talked on the phone with her - which Jack had made feel more like a job interview than a welcoming, get to know you chat - he understood just how bad of a match June had been for Quinn.

Gone were the tense morning phone calls after a blowout fight. Gone were the sick-in-love nights where Quinn was hanging up early before really talking to either of them so he could spend time with June while the getting was good. Gone were the confused, “I don’t know what she wants from me,” talks that happened way too often for Luke's liking. 

Not only was Sarah more stable, Luke felt like Quinn was more stable with her. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Jack said, clinging to his pride. “You’re an athlete, Q. Do you really think she can keep up with the lifestyle?” 

“It’s not like she needs to go to the gym with me every day,” Quinn shot back. 

“The girls you’ve dated before have been…” 

“Listen, Jack. Yes, Sarah might be a little bigger than the girls I’ve dated before, but she’s more than all of them.” 

“I’ll say she’s more,” Jack snided. 

Luke stepped in, “don’t be such a dick.” 

“It’s true.”

“She’s better,” Quinn corrected, and his voice went hard. “She’s better than any of those girls. More driven and more supportive and more understanding and loving than anyone I’ve ever dated.” 

That stopped Jack in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. 

This. This was the thing he was most scared of. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack knew Quinn or Luke would eventually get married, and their unit would be changed forever. They wouldn’t be The Hughes Boys anymore. Not like they had been. They would be different. Sarah was coming in and stealing his brother from him. 

“And just for the record,” Quinn said, getting in Jack’s face with a fierceness Luke rarely saw directed at either of them when talking about something so serious, “I don’t think Sarah’s fat, and I don’t think you do either. You never called Madeline fat, and she’s bigger than Sarah.” 

Madeline was a plus-size model Jack had quietly dated and broken up with the year before. 

Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much of their breakup was caused by Jack’s need to be perceived a certain way. Madeline was stunningly beautiful, but there were comments swirling all the time about how much bigger she was than him, and how could he possibly want to date someone so large, despite the fact that she was incredibly successful and was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. Not to mention that she kept to a diet that would put all of them to shame. 

Caught, Jack snapped his mouth shut and glared. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” Quinn practically begged. “I should have, and I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you need to take it out on her.” 

Luke was struck at how much his oldest brother was trying to protect his girlfriend. Jack could say what he wanted about him, but when it came to Sarah, he was trying to put blame back where it belonged. 

Quinn sunk into the club chair closest to him, raking his hands into his hair. 

“Can you just TRY to get to know her?” he asked. “I think you’ll really like her if you get to know her.” 

Jack huffed a breath through his nose and nodded once. Once again, he was struck with a sudden sense of vertigo, like everything around him was shifting and changing, pulled just off kilter. 

He wasn’t blind, as much as he wanted to be. He knew Quinn, and the very fact he was directing the blame back on himself again and again told Jack all he needed to know about how he felt about Sarah. Even though he didn’t know her very well and resented the swift way she’d blown into Quinns life, Jack could see she would be around for a long time. 

A few days later, as they sat around the table to eat breakfast, Ellen met Quinn's eyes, a warm smile lighting her face. “She's good. I really like her.”

Quinn knew his mom liked Sarah from when she first met his parents several weeks before.

Still, hearing her say this after seeing her interact with the rest of the family meant more. Some of the lingering anxiety he felt blew away. Jack still didn't love her, but he was softening up. Quinn wasn't sure anyone would ever live up to Jack's ideal standard. Luke loved everyone and liked to talk to her about the ocean. Plus, it seemed like she’d get along great with Kylee. 

His dad nodded in agreement, “don't fuck it up.”

That spoke louder to Quinn than anything else he could have said. “I don't plan to.”

“Make sure you don't. She's good for you. Good for the family, too.”

“Too good for him,” Luke added quietly. 

“That goes without saying. Most women will be for all of you.”

Jack scoffed. 

“Is she coming to Hawaii?” his mom asked. 

“What?” Jack exclaimed. “She can't come to Hawaii! That's our trip.”

Ellen looked at her middle son patiently, waiting for his instinctive reaction to calm down so he could think clearly. 

“I asked her,” Quinn said, “but -”

Jack broke in, his hot head getting the best of him,“you talked about this without me?”  

“Relax Jack,” Luke said. 

“But she told me no,” Quinn finished. 

“She told you no? She told me all sorts of things we should do from when she lived there. I was really hoping she could show us around,” Ellen admitted.

“I know,” Quinn said. “She said she didn't want to tread on family time.”

“She's going to be a part of this family, isn't she?” Ellen asked. 

Jack glared at her, “mom, it hasn't even been six months.”

“Five months can tell you a lot, Jack. Can't you see how much your brother loves her? And how much she loves him?” 

Jack had to admit she was right. Quinn was more settled - no, that wasn't it. He had always been settled. He was more…at ease. A better, less worried version of himself. It was like Sarah had come in and soothed all this anxiety and all these fears that had been bubbling beneath Quinn’s skin. Only when they were gone did Jack notice. 

And Sarah was…sweet. She was considerate and kind and tried her best to engage him in conversation. 

“Sar told me she would only come if everyone said it was okay, especially you, Jack.” 

Jack looked at his brother, totally taken aback. Something in him shifted. “Really?” 

Quinn nodded. “She doesn't want to tread on our time. She knows we don't get much time together anyway.”

Jack had been feeling like she'd just come barging into their family, taking his brother away from him. He'd heard Quinn talk about her, but seeing it in real life - seeing how much time they spent together, how they had their own little language, and always seemed to be touching each other - he wasn't ready to lose his brother like that. 

But this shifted things a bit. It was one thing to visit the lake house or even tag along to a big family vacation, but the trip to Hawaii was more than that. It was going to be just them. Even Kylee wasn't coming. He was pretty sure it was because she had a family reunion of her own she couldn't skip out on, but the sentiment still counted. 

“I'll think about it,” Jack agreed begrudgingly. 

The morning after the Canucks were eliminated, Sarah wandered down to the kitchen wearing one of Quinn’s Michigan shirts and a pair of his boxers, still slightly twisted slightly from sleep. 

“Oh,” she greeted hesitantly upon seeing him at the bar, “morning, Jack.”

Watching her and Quinn interact last night had cracked something in him. Not only that Sarah was here to stay, but it awoke a kind of longing to have someone totally accept him. 

It was made even worse when he wandered up to the gaming room, figuring he could at least watch some TV if he couldn’t get any sleep, and heard noise from Quinn’s bedroom that let him know they were going at it. He didn’t ever want to think about his brother having sex, but the fact that Quinn had so many different levels of comfort available - all seemingly tailored to meet his exact needs - after a hard day woke a deep longing for that kind of intimacy in Jack. He hadn’t allowed himself to want it, at least since he and Madeline broke up.

He gave up on the gaming room and slept on the uncomfortable living room sofa. Now his shoulder was sore, and his hips hurt, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, hating that she felt like she needed to tip toe around him. He knew it was his own fault, but now he was in so deep that he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. The conversation about Hawaii, realizing she was thinking about their family as well as her relationship with Quinn along with what happened the night before, had him feeling ready to make peace with her. Except that would just be him admitting he was wrong, which seemed so much easier than it felt. 

She put a pod in the coffee maker, more at home in Quinns house than he was. That was a new feeling. Jack had searched for the coffee pods that morning, and when he couldn’t find one, settled for milk. Now, he wondered why Quinn kept them in the drawer beneath the coffee maker when it would have made more sense to keep them in the cupboard above. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked, leaning her butt on the counter while the machine gurgled. 

He shrugged, “Luke snored all night.” 

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“We haven’t had to share a room when he’s not exhausted from hockey in a long time.” 

She nodded, pulling creamer out of the fridge. 

He watched her walk back to her mug, noting the way her thighs trembled with each step. He loved that about Madeline. The softness of her. She was stunning, but not hard. Before he’d met her, he didn’t know those things could coexist. 

“How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” she said, “Quinn was so exhausted, I don’t think he turned over once.” 

“Isn’t he the worst?” Jack said with a loud, laughing groan. “Flailing all over the bed.”

Sarah snorted when he nearly fell backward off the stool in his demonstration of flailing limbs. “Has he always done that?” 

“Since we were kids. He must be a nightmare to share a bed with.” 

“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve experienced any flailing. He must be a little less writhe-y now, but if we’re not cuddling, he does usually toss and turn all night.” 

“Good,” he said, and then immediately felt stupid. What was she supposed to say to that now? 

“Where are your parents?” she asked instead, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the hot liquid. 

“They went to get breakfast or something,” he said with a vague gesture over his shoulder. “They invited me, but I went back to sleep.” 

“Have you eaten? I was about to cook some eggs.” 

“Is Quinn up?” he asked. 

“He was still conked out when I got up. I figured I’d let him sleep. No use in waking him when he’s finally getting some solid rest.” 

There it was again - that pinch of jealousy. She knew him in ways Jack didn’t, like her knowledge that cuddling kept Quinn still at night, and she obviously liked to care for him. 

It’s not like he didn’t want her in his brothers life. She obviously made Quinn happy, and all Jack really wanted was for him to be happy. 

It was a weird, night and day difference between Quinn now and Quinn at the beginning of the season. When they’d left Michigan in September, it wasn’t like Quinn had been depressed - he’d been excited to get back to hockey - but he’d spent so much of the off season wondering if he and June were actually a good match that when he left, it felt like he was leaving without having anything truly resolved. When they’d finally broken up in November, a huge sigh of relief  had swept through Quinn’s whole life. 

Looking back now, Jack should have known something was up when Quinn started calling them, relaxed and cheerful, quick with a smile and a joke in a way he hadn’t been since he and June had broken up. Now, he was happy and content, and Jack could practically see the love he had for Sarah glowing on his skin. 

After spending time with her, he understood how Quinn had fallen so hard, so fast. She was kind but willing to put in the work, genuine and honest, but funny and snarky.

Might as well just get it over with. 

“Listen, Sarah,” he began, looking down at his glass of milk, “I’m sorry.”

She continued to look at him over her mug. It struck him that she waited for him to finish without jumping in or jumping to conclusions. 

“You’re really good for Quinn,” he admitted.

Something in her heart fluttered.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick. With June it was pretty obvious they weren’t going to last so I never put much stock in her, but I…” he chewed briefly on this thumbnail, thinking, “but I can see how you guys are good together.” 

A smile reached her eyes. 

He blew out a deep breath. “It’s just…Quinn’s my brother, you know?” Shaking his head, he raked a hand into his hair, “I’m sorry, I'm not making any sense.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, her voice calm. He wondered if she ever raised it. “I’ve been through this, too, when my sister started dating someone seriously. It’s weird and hard when someone new comes into your family.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m taking Quinn away from you or something.” 

“You couldn’t,” he said, then realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I can see that now.” 

Smiling in a way he realized was totally genuine, she set her mug on the counter. “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot coming from you.”  

It was like she knew all he needed was time. There were no hard feelings, no grudges or fits. No glares from across the room. She just waited and gave him time, and wasn’t mad at how much he needed. 

And now that he’d admitted it, she let it lie, changing the subject as soon as it’d been put to rest. “So, do you want some eggs?” she asked, turning back to the fridge. 

It was a refreshing turn of events. 

“Sure,” he stood from the bar stool, “how can I help?” 

By the time Quinn wandered down the stairs, clumsy with sleep and rubbing his eyes, they had omelets going. 

Looking nervously between Jack and Sarah, side by side in the kitchen, he briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. One night, and it seemed all of Jack’s hesitations had been put to bed. 

“Morning,” he yawned.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smiling bright, “hey, how’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” he said through another yawn as he walked up to them. He slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and rested the other on Jacks shoulder, “you two made up?” 

“I don’t think we were fighting, really,” Sarah said, “but we came to an understanding.”

Jack smiled gratefully, and Quinn leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

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