#the uk is making it harder and harder for me to stay here. even if i switch visas

[phrynea]

why is life so hard why is it so hard to figure out what to do with it

[the-froschamethyst4]

Mud

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Alex x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: she/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, language, family get together, kissing, married couple,

𖤐Summary: Alex and Y/n go back to Alex’s hometown in Texas

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Heading back to Alex's hometown was always so stressful, he never knew how his family would act, and now with his wife there's still no telling some of his Aunties will act all nice for a hour and then give her shit for the rest of the time they are there.

Alex took his knuckle to his mouth and just held it between his teeth, Y/n sat in the passenger seat, feet up on the dash (in her socks, she's not an animal), and was looking down at her phone, but she did notice Alex's sudden quietness.

"Alex? Everything okay, honey?" She asks, moving her feet to the floorboard.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, yeah, everything's okay," he says, tapping on his stirring wheel.

"Alex...you're nervous," she says, putting her hand on his leg.

"I am," he confesses.

"Why? It's your family."

"Honey, do you realize when we do visit my hometown, my family can be weird?" He says.

"Yes, I've noticed," she says. "But that shouldn't matter, should it?"

"I just...don't want you to feel miserable or something while we're here."

"Alex, you make it seem like I'm meeting your family for the first time. I'm okay, I'll get over it," she says, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "I'll still love you and only you, if anything does happen, you're your own person, your family can't do that," Y/n says, tapping his thigh.

"I know," he says, through a deep breath.

With the rain it wasn't helping Alex, he wanted to call his mom and say the roads were flooded even though they weren't, Alex just thinks his family will ruin the fun, because they all have their moods.

"Oh your mom texted."

"Can you see what she wants?"

"Sure," Y/n takes his phone from the cupholder and unlocks it, she reads the text out loud for. "When you come down the driveway park in the field."

"Okay?" Alex was confused, no one parks in the field.

Alex could see his childhood home up ahead, the gate was open and the lights were just barely visible due to the rain. He pulls into the driveway and sees all the trucks and cars in the field, he parks next to a red Ford F-150.

"Huh, Uncle Joey is here," he says, pointing to the red truck.

"How come we're parked in the field?"

"No idea, honey. Stay in here, I'll come help you," he says, grabbing his hoodie from the backseat putting it on, flipping the hood up and grabbing the black umbrella from the passenger seats back pocket.

He quickly hopes out, slamming his door shut, he opens the passenger door bring the umbrella over the door so the rain doesn't dare touch Y/n as she gets her boots back on and fixes her shirt, she forgot to grab a jacket when they left the hotel this morning.

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome, honey," he says as they rushed to the front porch. Y/n gets under it and Alex closes the umbrella. He knocks on the door like normal, but no answer.

"Hello? MA!?" Alex yells. He knocks harder on the door as Y/n went to the railing.

"Alex, I hear laughing around back," she says, Alex opens the umbrella and Y/n held onto Alex's arm and they rushed around the back of the house. They saw everyone sitting on the back porch drinking, smoking, eating, having a good time.

"Ma? Pa?"

"ALEX!!" His entire family yells when seeing and hearing Alex. They all rushed to the couple bring them under the large awning.

"Uncle Alex try the watermelon!"

"Alex hows work?"

"You still in the Military?"

"Y/n, darling I love the earings."

"Y/n are you still that assistant for the large company in the UK?"

"Auntie Y/n can you show me how to braid?"

The couple was just getting bombarded with questions, Alex was on one side of the deck while Y/n was on the complete opposite.

"Alex you still drink whiskey?"

"Haven't touch it in a while," he gave an awkward chuckle. They gave Alex a glass and poured him some whiskey. They clinked glasses and downed the amber liquid.

"Y/n, I love your hair."

"Thanks, I just got it done," she gave Alex's cousin a smile.

"Aww~ Y/n, I'm so glad you're here!" Alex's older sister Bree came running to Y/n arms over her neck and hugging her tightly.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, but questions, why are we out here in the rain and not inside?" Y/n asks.

"Oh, we do something called a rain party, whenever we have a party and it rains that same day, we come outside and enjoy the rain," Bree says with a smile.

"I've never heard that before."

"Well, it's a Keller thing, I don't know anyone else who does it," she tells Y/n.

The girls talked and talked, and all Alex did was just stare at Y/n, the weather kind of lied and said sunny all day, but when they came close to Alex's hometown it immediately started to rain.

So Y/n was in light blue boot cut jeans, a white shirt that she tied in the front because it was too big on her and some cowgirl boots Alex had bought for her a while ago, and now she had an excuse to where them, and her hair was up in a ponytail.

"Alex? You listening?"

"Huh no, I'm not," he was honest.

"Lookin' at your wife?"

"Well, yeah," Alex eyebrows narrowed while looking at his Uncles and father.

"Leave the boy alone, he's allowed to stare at his love." Alex's father says.

"Yeah, well...y'all seen the debate?"

"And that's my cue to leave," Alex says, walking away and heads to where Y/n, Bree and his mom Lia was.

"Oh Alex," Y/n jumps when feeling his hand on her waist.

"Hey, had to leave the conversation."

"Politics?" Bree asks.

"Yep," Alex says while popping the p. "Can I steal my wife?"

"Go ahead," Bree says.

"You never told me about rain parties your family throws," Y/n tells him.

"Didn't think that was important," he says.

"Uncle Alex you wanna race cars?" His nephew Matthew comes running and asks.

"Sure, bud, come on," Alex takes Y/n's hand and they start heading under the deck, going down the stairs getting a big wet and getting under the deck were all the other kids were. They surrounded the racecar track and started playing with their own cars.

Matthew gave Alex his spare racecar.

"Thanks bud," Alex says as the race was just Alex and Matthew. Alex hasn't played with racecars in a while, and the newer racecars have different controls.

Y/n sits on the wicker couch behind him as one of Alex's nieces sat on her lap and Alex's younger cousins surrounded her, they all wanted to talk to her, ask her questions, and Y/n would answer while braiding all the little girls hair one by one.

"How long have you been married to Alex?"

"4 years."

"How old are you?"

"Shut up, Liz, you don't ask a woman that question," one of the cousins says, while elbowing Liz in the side.

"It's okay, I'm in my mid-twenties."

"Is that old?" Liz was elbowed again by the same cousin but harder and caused a fight between the two.

"Hey, hey, don't fight it's okay," Y/n just laughs. "I guess I'm old depending on how you see it," Y/n says, trying to be positive but deep down it did kind of make her sad that the younger generation sees her as "old."

"Oh well you won," Alex says, he let Matthew win, Alex knows how passionate Matthew is and if he doesn't win, he gonna be crabby the whole night, so he let him win.

"One more round?" Matthew asks.

"Nah, maybe later bud," Alex says, getting off his knees that were hurting and put his hand out for Y/n, she was done with the last little girl. Y/n placed the little girl on the concrete and stood up and takes Alex's hand as they both said their 'byes' to the kids and went back up to the main deck with all the adults.

Y/n saw Bree and Lia and she was handed a glass of wine, the ladies were taking photos for Facebook to rub it in Lia's Church Friends' faces. Lia was the only Keller that went to Church, Bree didn't have time for it because she has her own life to worry about and Alex's father Ben was busy with the farm and couldn't find time for Church so Lia was the only person.

Lia had made friends in the Church but they were all fake, teasing Lia, making fun of her, and they would hold gatherings without Lia and post them on Facebook so now it was Lia's turn to show how much she was having without those so-called friends.

The girls stood in front of the stone fireplace outside giving their best smiles and holding their glasses of wine as one of Alex's cousins took the photo, and every girl was getting cycled out for the next photos, it was first Lia, Bree, Y/n, and a cousin, the next group was Aunties, and more cousins.

Then the rest of the night was just random photos of everyone having fun. The guys drinking, some smoking, other photos were showing off the wonderful food everyone brought.

Y/n sat on the wicker couch, right leg crossed over her left, her elbows resting on her knee, as she watches everyone. Y/n's family never did this, have parties this big, it was like everyone in Alex's family came.

Alex came to Y/n sitting next to her, arm going behind her and she leans into his touch.

"You having fun?" He asks.

"Yeah," she says, looking a bit tired. Alex just chuckles at her, leaning forward and kissing her temple, his arm now going around her waist and tapping her thigh.

"You look so hot."

"Alex," she slightly groans at him.

"What? I'm telling the truth," he chuckles again.

"I know, but I need you to tell me that," she says, pushing on his chest.

"So? They how much I'm in love with you," he says, kissing her lips now. She could taste the alcohol on his breath.

"Alex are you drunk?" She asks.

"Maybe, I am," he says, with red cheeks, and slightly red eyes.

"I think we'll stay here for the night, huh?" she says as Alex just nods. Alex couldn't drive cause he was drunk, and Y/n couldn't drive because she doesn't know Texas roads.

-------------

10:30PM

Alex had his head back as he sat on the couch inside the house, everyone had left and the only people left was Bree, her kids, Alex and Y/n. Y/n had gone to the bathroom to change into some pajamas, she didn't know she was going to be staying the night, so Lia gave Y/n some pajamas that don't fit her anymore.

Alex was just passed out on the couch till Y/n came out tapping his shoulder waking him up. He wakes up with a smile on his face, cupping Y/n's face and kissing her lips.

"Did an angel just wake me?"

"You're such a flirt, come on, honey, we need to get you into bed," she says.

"No, I like the couch, I miss how comfortable the couch is," he says.

"Alex, come on," she says, tugging at his hand to get him up. He does and follows Y/n up to Alex's old bedroom, she pushes the door open forgetting how his old bedroom looked.

It was untouched after Alex had left for college and left the states to live in the UK. Their were posters of half naked girls on the wall, his walls were painted a dark navy blue, his bed was made, and it was kind of messy.

Alex plopped on his back on his old bed. He groans as Y/n starts undressing him to put him in his pajamas which was just his boxers. Alex only slept in boxers because he would get too hot.

She takes his shirt off bring it over his head, he opens his eyes and smirks, his hands go to her waist under her shirt.

"Alex, wait," she says.

"You're taking advantage of me," he whines.

"No, I'm not, I'm getting you out of your clothes," Y/n says. She then starts unbuckling his belt and starts pulling his jeans down.

"Woah, there honey, if you wanna blow me just ask no need to be so demanding," he chuckles.

"Of hush, you're drunk, I'm not going to blow you, I'm not gonna do anything."

"Damn...you should."

"No," she says.

"Why?" He whines like a child.

"Because you're drunk," she chuckles.

"Hmmm~" he hums.

------------

6:00AM

Alex woke up early, he rubs his temple and looks to his left seeing Y/n laying on her side facing away from Alex, she was still asleep, he rubs his eyes and gently moves his hand and taps her hip, she doesn't move but snuggles deeper into her pillow.

He gets up and grabs his clothes off the floor. He gets dressed and heads downstairs going to the kitchen sees his mom make breakfast.

"Morning ma," he says.

"Morning, sweetheart," she says, placing a plate of bacon on the table. "Is Y/n still asleep?"

"Yep, she's looks really tired," Alex says, yawning.

"Morning," Ben says, coming into the kitchen sitting next to Alex.

They talked and rank their coffee as they waited for Y/n, which wasn't long, she comes downstairs in her pajamas still, she yawns and Alex gets up kissing her temple and walking her to sit across the table from him.

"How'd you sleep, Y/n?" Lia asks.

"Oh you know, had to deal with someone who couldn't handle their liquor," Y/n says as Alex's parents laughed.

"Hey now."

"Don't hey now me, you don't remember anything but you kept accusing me of taking advantage of you," she says.

"You must've," he says, raising his eyebrows and drinking his coffee.

"No, I wasn't," she says, slightly kicking him under the table.

"You two are perfect for each other," Lia says. "Now, let's eat."

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[viric-dreams]

It’s been weeks since the constable’s death, since Jones’ nightmare had ended. And yet he can’t sleep at night. 

He’s dead. Then why does he see him around every corner? 

Made to look like an accident. The papers could be lying. 

You have an alibi on the other side of London. The blood was hosed from the dock before he’d ever had the chance to see it. 

It’s over. How can it be? When he’d done nothing. Known nothing. Had the problem taken from his hands, supplicated with the assurance that it’s all over with now. Taken care of. Does he Believe?

He all but lives in the church now. He’s certainly not going to work. He can’t look any of them in the eyes. Especially not him. He knows what will happen if he does, and Shaw does not deserve his misdirected anger. The vicar doesn’t deserve it either, and yet he’s become the unintended target of his ire, of barely bitten back words and his acrid mood, seeping into every surface. And even a man of God has his limits. 

“I think you need to leave, Robin. Come back when you’ve cooled down.”

And if he can’t? If he can’t get his head on straight, can’t be the calm and inoffensive Mr Jones he’s supposed to go on stage and play, can’t look at a pastry without feeling his stomach turn…?

He doesn’t return to the church. He can find salvation at home. 

He can do many things at home. He can

he can

he

He needs to get out of here. 

The letter from the surface arrives at his door not a moment too soon. His “Koloman” companion, the one from Cornwall, wants to meet. In person. She was always sympathetic to their cause. He was so close to turning her before. Before the letters became harder and harder to write, the right words missing from his mind, replaced with exhausted looping thoughts, and that vile, unpleasant blistering feeling beneath his skin. 

He writes her back. He’ll meet her. Perhaps not the UK (she has no need to know what will happen should he be caught on British soil), but somewhere closer. How about France?

It’s not a request hes submits to the Game, it’s a statement. He’s going to the surface to try to recruit her. Shaw is going to pull the strings to make it happen. He won’t deny him this. He can't. Not now.

And so he packs his bag, closes his house, and leaves on a steamer bound for the Cumaean Canal. Let him leave the ghosts and his black mood behind in the darkness. He needs the change and the light.

Neither the Game nor his contact need to know about the second letter, Cardiff-bound, the one he’d mailed alongside his response.

My Dearest Lottie,

It’s been far too long since you’ve last heard from me, and I apologise. Perhaps what I have to say next can make up for it: Are you able to come to Brittany posthaste? Bring the kids, or leave them with mother if you cannot. Whatever the case, tell no one. I don’t know for how long I’m able to stay, but it’s been far too long since I’ve seen your smiling face. I’ve missed you, Lottie, more than words can possibly express. This may be our best chance to see each other again. I’ll be departing soon, but I’ve forwarded you the address of where to find me. God willing, we’ll finally meet again face-to-face. The thought is a ray of sunlight in the dark. Be well, and, I pray, until soon.

Your loving brother,  -Robin

[imaginemcyt]

being childhood best friends with cc!ranboo would include...

synopsis: what it was like growing up best friends with ranboo

tw: none!

listen to: count on me by bruno mars, twin size mattress by the front bottoms, the best day by taylor swift

you probably met in your early school days, most likely first grade or so (you'd be like 6 for those of you who don't go to american public school!)

you'd become friends pretty fast, always picking each other during partner work time and playing with each other on the playground

you probably poked at worms and drew each other little pictures 😭😭😭😭😭

growing up your parents knew him and their parents knew you, so you'd always spend time at each other's houses

summers were always the best because you got to spend nearly every day together, always swimming at his house or riding your bikes around your neighborhood

when you were twelve, you got into a pretty big fight and didn't talk to each other for almost a month. it was the longest you'd ever been apart, and you both cried when you finally made up. your parents were extremely worried about the two of you

when you got to be about 13, your body changed quickly, and they were always the first to hype you up when you felt down about yourself, and they always stuck up for you if you got bullied or received unwanted attention

he became a personal guard dog for you 😭

they'd literally just intimidate people with their height and that's all it took

you were his support system when discovering his gender and sexuality and they will never ever forget that

you're genuinely their soulmate. even if not romantically, you're two halves of one whole, and you both know it deep down

you're the first person he goes to when he blows up online

you're in full support, but you want to remain completely anonymous and uninvolved

you don't want their clout, and they love you for that

everyone around you thinks you guys are dating, and you don't make a big deal out deal of denying it, just a simple "no, they're just my best friend!"

as ran continues to grow online, you remain entirely out of the public eye for a couple years

in late 2022, he introduces you to his fanbase and they love you!!

after that you still stay pretty private, only really joining for a couple streams and videos here and there

chat always asks about you

they love to tell stories about you on stream

when he moves to the uk, you cry harder than you ever have, but you understand that he sort of needs to for his career path, and you're in support

they promise to still call and text you every day

before he leaves though, you guys kinda have an "oh, duh" moment where you're like,, wait. you're an adult, too,, you could literally just go with him.....

so you do! you move to the uk with them!

your parents all see you off and you all cry together, but they know you'll be alright because you have each other to lean on

eventually you're introduced to aimsey, bill, tommy, tubbo (im delulu), freddie, and others such as wilbur, james, ash, phil, and charlie

you are an official member of cricket crew

sometimes you guys will go back to america and visit your hometown in california, driving together down your old town's streets, windows down and music up, reminiscing

they will cuddle you or hold your hand (/p) if you ever want or need them to

ceo of piggyback rides.

he knows you so well that you don't even have to ask

tesco trips. y'all never have to argue about who is going to do the shopping, you always go together because it's fun. hanging on the shopping buggy, riding it through the aisles, buying a bunch of things that you most definitely do not need

they 100% spoil you. they will buy you anything and everything, just because they wanted to. you try to do the same as much as you can, but he always wins because they have that streamer money 😔

you both have so many stories and so much blackmail on each other

and photos... my god, the pictures yall have........

birthday gifts are never serious, you always get each other gag gifts and inside joke related gifts

christmas is when you literally spoil each other

they always bring home your favorite snacks when they're out

if you're a gamer, they're introducing you to new games they found and learning how to play them with you

if you're not a gamer, he's teaching you how to play his favorites just for fun!

if they get too scared playing a horror game they'll call you into the room and make you sit with them and be scared too :P

you guys have this sixth sense, when something is wrong, you just... know. ran's upset? you don't even have to talk before you're already hugging him. you're sad? he's leaving tommy's house right now because he can't explain it, there's just a disturbance in the force

whenever anyone asks how you guys met/how long you've been friends, he always sounds so proud when he says "oh, i've known them my whole life!"

y'all are so sweet i swear to god

[notf1obsessed]

A Little Flirting Hurt No One (Charlos): you can find the full fic on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55395409

Chapter 13: butterflies

Charles tried to avoid Carlos as much as possible in the upcoming weeks, too embarrassed of what he had done in Canada to face him. It didn't help though considering they were teammates and had to act like it. It also didn't help that they were also meant to be dating.

Not a very good way to keep it up.

He thought about playing it cool and just saying it was for the plan, and the fact he was drunk. But he just couldn't come to terms with that.

Carlos on the other hand, seemed totally fine. He made talk with Charles whenever he could, sat near him on the plane, talked with him during the debriefs. Charles envied how he could move on from things so easily. But the truth was, Carlos was burning on the inside. Every time he saw Charles, his stomach did backflips. Everything about Charles just suddenly seemed so..

Attractive.

The way he smiled. The way he laughed. The way his hair looked as he arrived in the paddock. The way his eyes would glow under the sun. The was his dimples curved into his face. The way he spoke. The way he-

"Right and Carlos you'll be starting first," Silvia's voice brought him out of his trance. They had to film a media video here in Silverstone- though they weren't sure why the UK would be an interesting place to film media for. It was a c2 challenge - which they had gotten quite used to - with the game never have I ever.

Carlos thought for a moment about his options before speaking. He decided if he was going to be tortured with media, might as well have some fun with it, "Never have I ever blacked out at a party before."

Charles felt a flush creep up his neck at the mention of the party, but he fought it back and put a finger down.

"Never have I ever..," Charles thought as well, he decided to return the same energy, "Kissed one of my friends sober."

Carlos's eyes widened for a brief second, the memories of Charles's lips on his. They felt so soft, so warm, so- he put a finger down and began with the next question, "Never have I ever had to carry someone home from a club."

Charles raised an eyebrow. His eyes grew wide as he saw Carlos put a finger down. Wait- had Carlos really carried Charles home. No- it must of been someone else, surely.

Right?

"Right I think we have enough content for this one, thank you everyone!" Silvia's words broke Charles's train of thought. Probably for the better.

They part their ways, both (mainly Charles) a bit too flushed to speak to each other now.

————————————————————

There it is. Half a lap away from winning. Carlos's feet press harder on the throttle, gloves dripping with sweat. Instead of the car speeding up, it slowed down. His eyes widened in panic as he saw the cars pass in front.

"what's happening," his voice came panicking through the radio.

"Mechanical issue sainz, we need to retire."

His grip around the steering wheel hardened, parking the car in the pit lane near him. His eyes stung but he fought back the tears. He got out of the car, not daring to face anyone. He didn't even take his helmet off before making his way to his driver's room. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, shutting the door behind him.

He wasn't even able to make it to the massage table before he collapsed, tears streaming down his face.

Why was everything like this.

Why did every win have to be thrown away by some issue.

Why was everyone around him so perfect and him rubbish at everything.

He finally pulled off the helmet, allowing him to breathe properly. He let his head fall back on the door, using as support.

"Carlos?" A soft voice interrupted his quiet sobbing.

Charles.

Carlos didnt respond.

"Can you let me in?"

No response.

Charles sighed, sliding his back down the door to be sat opposite Carlos. They stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, Carlos's hyperventilating the only sound in the air.

"Why am I like this," he blurted out.

Charles's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Why can't anything ever go my way," he broke into sobs, "Why is every win always out of my reach. Why is everyone around me so perfect. Why am I so rubbish. Why does every person I love never love me back."

Charles felt himself break at hearing his teammate in this condition, "Carlos you are not rubbish," he tried to offer the little comfort that he could, "and you are not to blame for what the team fucks up."

Carlos's sobs stopped for a moment, his shoulders relaxing slightly against the door frame. Charles thought he had managed to break the wall between them, but no longer did Carlos relax did he tense up again.

"Can you go?" Asked Carlos, head buried between his knees.

Charles sighed, not being able to comfort his friend. Alas, he did as he was told, leaving Carlos a mess in his driver's room.

So much for opening up.

_________________________

The next time Charles would see him would be in Maranello a week later. Charles had arrived to the factory in a much better shape than last time. Glancing around the factory to find Carlos, he caught his eye and he seemed to be fine. He was chatting with one of the engineers and he seemed.. perfectly normal? While Charles did envy Carlos's ability to move on from things quickly, it didn't seem like this was moving on.

It was bottling up.

He didn't want to ask Carlos as he made it clear at the track that he's not quite trustful of Charles yet.

Or at least isn't ready to open up yet.

It was 2 weeks until the summer break, which meant 2 weeks until the cruise. Something Charles and Carlos were not very keen on going to.    

Debrief ended and they were on another (this time shorter) flight over to Hungary.

________________________

The race went okay for Ferrari, ending with Charles coming P4 and Carlos coming P5. Carlos played with the radio wires for the majority of the video, Charles doing most of the talking. They finished filming their video for the fans and went back to the motorhomes to pack up and go home.

On Carlos's return, he felt a ring in his pocket. Opening it to see who texted him, he groaned at the message from Lando.

Lando: k remember the cruise

Lando: well i bought the tickets and its from the 6th to the 9th in Monaco.

Lando: cya there

Carlos: thx ill be sure to tell Charles

He in-fact was not looking forward to telling Charles they were going to be stuck together on a ship for 2 nights.

But he did, and Charles's reaction was not very better than his, tensing up at the mention of it.

"So how do we meet, if we want t0 keep up the couple illusion," asked Carlos, taking a seat in Charles's drivers room (knowing it was the only time they were going to be able to talk about it).

"You can come back with me to Monaco if you want, I have a guest room," suggested Charles, fidgeting with his fingers.

"It's okay I can take a flight over the night before, I'll just sleep when we get there," responded Carlos, "I'll just meet you at your apartment."

"Okay sounds good," said Charles, desperately wanting to end the conversation.

A bad idea since both of them had very limited knowledge of what they were actually going to do.

And that was very clear when Carlos arrived like a shit-wreck at Charles's apartment.

[itsclydebitches]

Continuing my perhaps delusional argument/hope that Ted permanently returning to Kansas is just a red herring, I was thinking about our references and callbacks this episode. Specifically, how they don't paint Kansas in a positive or unique light.

The Wizard of Oz pinball game is definitely the most on-the-nose nod to his return, yet in the scene itself Ted is literally refusing to play.

When we get a closeup on the machine we're shown Dorothy's house spinning out of control. That is, a moment when she leaves Kansas for the bright world of Oz, not the ruby slippers of her return.

Similarly, Beard loses his game before Ted walks over. The ending of the Wicked Witch is one wherein Dorothy (Ted) does not go back home.

(I'm not entirely sure what to do with this one yet, but having Mae quote "This Be the Verse" is certainly A Choice. Though I think the overall message -- people, specifically parents, will inevitably hurt their kids -- is an uplifting and very relevant argument within Ted Lasso's heartfelt context -- ergo we should acknowledge that we'll never be perfect while still striving to improve -- but that last line? Oof. "Get out early as you can / And don't have kids yourself"? That's not the proposed solution I'd expect for an episode that was sending Ted back to his son for good. Obviously Ted already has Henry, but it may be significant that Mae eschews a generic 'You can do it!' argument for a far more nuanced and harder to swallow conclusion, perhaps one that heralds Ted's controversial decision to stay separated from Henry for at least part of the year.)

(Also let's toss in the fact that Dottie uses a football metaphor -- not American football -- to describe how Ted needs to parent: sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, mostly you just tie, and all you can do it keep playing.)

Finally, we've got references to both BBQ sauce and sunflowers via Ted's WiFi password and the bread Dottie bakes him, Ted's "favorite."

Half a season ago these would have been straightforward references to Kansas, positive ones at that. However, post-S3E6 (literally titled "Sunflowers") Ted has both of these beloved objects tied to the UK instead. He enjoys the beauty of Van Gogh's Sunflowers in the Amsterdam museum and finds a BBQ sauce so good that it inspires him to (hopefully!) win it all in his English sport.

It might just be me reading into things because I'm looking for my preferred ending to the series... but also I don't think I am because it's weird that Kansas is continually framed as a negative this season. Ted is still super awkward with Michelle. Her new boyfriend is kinda awful and likewise makes him incredibly uncomfortable (understandably). The Wizard of Oz references aren't targeting the happy aspects of the story, or even the parts about going home. The symbolic references to Ted's beloved state (sunflowers, BBQ sauce, the little green army men) have all been integrated into his life here. We get a whole episode about how once Ted learns to focus on Henry instead of Michelle, Henry has a fantastic time living in London. Hell, this episode opens with Ted enthusiastically greeting everyone he passes on his walk, a beloved member of the community, a staple of this town... and then his mood turns sour when he hits his Kansas-sprung mom.

Obviously Ted is undergoing some last-minute growth when it comes to being a father to Henry (and healing the rift with Dottie), but I think Ted's in-universe improvement is misleading, implying that because he may think he needs to return to Kansas, that's actually how the story is going to end. If that were the end-goal though, I would expect the subtext to have a more hopeful, optimistic feel to it; something that not just implies Ted's return, but argues why he would want to outside of Henry.

If none of that is relevant... that's going to be even worse for me than Ted just going back to Kansas. A Kansas ending framed as a positive is far from my preference, but it's (arguably) a strong conclusion to Ted's journey. A Kansas ending after all these implied negatives both isn't my preference and feels like more objectively bad writing.

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 16

Featuring the same characters as Day 12! Not required viewing to understand this one, as it's more their origins. I've placed the story in the UK so apologies for any inaccuracies as I'm an American!

Content warnings for: alcohol consumption, smoking, implied addiction to both aforementioned, drunk driving, motorcycle accident, thoughts of death, and brief suicidal ideation. Stay safe!

Wound Cleaning

He knew he was too far out of it. Too dizzy, too tired, too weak, too drunk to drive back home.

But he’d stumbled to his bike, clutching his side and his cheek, running like a coward. When it roared to life beneath him, he found some forlorn spark of confidence.

Then somewhere on the side streets it had started raining. And in the forest between towns it came down harder. Then-

Fuck, his head hurt. 

Freezing mud clung to him as he rolled over despite the persistent warmth in his chest. When had it gotten so cold? The hazy shadow of his bike lay several meters away, its headlights shining off into the woods, engine still purring into a puddle. His phone was still in the tailpack, he’d call someone to pick him up… or 999… they couldn’t tell him he had it coming. 

A mirthless laugh covered a worse sound as he pushed himself up, dragging aching limbs toward the motorcycle. His left leg was fucking killing him.

A memory of skidding across asphalt, crumbling concrete tearing at skin.

He just needed to grab his phone.The leather bag hanging off the seat wasn’t yet submerged and he let out a sigh of relief, reaching in. 

Empty. Oh god.

“Nonononono…”

A bloody hand plunged underwater, searching until- the phone. It was dripping water from every opening, his fingers slipped against the buttons, pressing frantically as a black screen stared back. 

“Shit! God, no!”

He screamed and flung the useless machine against the ground, collapsing with it into incoherent sobs. If he got back onto the bike in this condition he’d crash somewhere worse. But laying here was a death sentence unless someone else felt bad enough to stop for him.

Ha. Funny. 

Well, if he was lucky… there. His trusty lighter and cigs were still zipped up safely in his pocket, one left in the whole package. Fate was one sexy, sexy man. He’d have to do him a favor in the afterlife if he made it that far.

“Cheers.” To nobody in particular, of course. It took shaking fingers a few flicks to activate muscle memory and spring up a little flame. A long, deep drag soothed his nerves.

Not a bad way to go out. Not bad at all. Tequila would’ve paired nicely with the smoke.

Headlights turned onto the road and he sighed, holding out a forlorn hand. At best, he’d be splashed as they whizzed by. At worst, they’d put him out of his misery. 

Or maybe those two should be switched. Either way, they wouldn’t… stop… but… they were slowing down. And he heard the doors unlock when the vehicle shifted into park. And those lights were making his head pound.

“Bloody hell! Is that you, Payge?”

“Depends who’s askin’,” he mumbled through a mouthful of smoke. “You gonna bring me in to the station?”

“Christ…” They muttered to themself and opened the trunk of their car and pulled something out before walking over. The headlights stayed on, acting as a spotlight. “C’mere, Payge. Can you move?” 

“Nicolai…?”

“The one and only. Come on.”

Nicolai was… how would he describe them? A friend of a friend of sorts. But maybe they were more of a friend, as of late. Did they even live over this way? Where the hell had he ended up?

Payge groaned and pushed himself up, missing a few times and slipping down. Nicolai’s hands reached out to help pull him over. 

“You smell like smoke. And booze.”

“Here. Just a bit, ‘ts my last one.” He offered the cigarette and they pinched it between thumb and index, took a drag, and blew it straight into his face. 

“The hell’s that meant to be?!” Payge coughed.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” They handed it back and opened a well stocked first aid kit, picking up a cloth and pouring some water out from their water bottle. “Where are you hurt?”

“You askin’ about the bar fight or the crash?” His words were slurring into each other again. 

“Payge…” they shook their head, concern coloring their features. “I told you to stop fighting.”

“And I wasn’t letting him go home w’thout a shiner.” They stopped arguing and simply stared until he softened. “Got punched in the cheek, thrown around a bit… I think my leg’s bleedin’.”

They brought the cloth to his face first, wiping away grit, and he hissed when they found broken skin over his cheekbone. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a bottle of antiseptic, I’ve just gotta clean you up first. You shouldn’t be riding in this weather in the first place.”

Nicolai moved to his abdomen, touching over the hem of his shirt and a frantic, uncoordinated hand pushed it back down. 

“Stop, you don’t needa… just call an ambulance. You shouldn’ hafta do all this.”

“Nonsense. I can’t leave your side not knowing what happens. Let me help.”

Payge hesitated before relenting, letting them pull up his shirt and inspect the bruise surely forming over his ribs. Once satisfied they moved to look at his legs, but noticed blood dripping down his arm.

“Your hands-?” 

“Just scraped ‘em.”

But they wouldn’t stand for that, taking him roughly by the wrist and cleaning the mud off to reveal harsh scratches from the pavement.

“Other one, Payge.”

“Lemme finish,” he gestured with his half-smoked cigarette.

“Give me that!” Nicolai snatched it right out of his loose grip and snuffed it out, grinding the butt into the pavement before tossing it into the puddle.

“Hey! Wha’s your problem, mate?!” Genuine anger snuck into his voice and Payge finally sat up, grabbing at their shirt and shaking them. “You gotta nother pack’a Marlboros hanging around or what, Nic?” 

A hand shot out and held him by the neck, and his grip dropped away in shock. 

“You’re gonna pass of infection if you don’t let me do my job. Calm the hell down.” The lack of response sounded like resignation, so they cleaned the hand that had now left a stain on their shirt. “Don’t let those touch the mud again, you understand?”

A meek nod. He allowed Nicolai to roll up his pant leg but seethed when torn fibers tugged at the wound.

“I’ll go quickly. Hold your breath.” And they ripped it off as promised, causing a long, drawn out keen. Wow. 

“Th-thank you…”

Something stirred but they swallowed it down.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

A bit more water was poured onto the cloth before working it into the wound, despite jerks and half-aware cries. As the mud was washed away, the severity of the gash became apparent. Though it didn’t cut deep, it was… extensive. They pulled the first aid kit over and grabbed the roll of elastic bandages.

“Bite down on this. I promise you’ll need it.” They held it to Payge’s mouth and he accepted it, fear flashing across his face. “Just focus on that and you’ll be alright.”

A new cloth and a pause to trap his leg with their own, then Nicolai poured the antiseptic directly on the wound. 

“Fuuuuck!” 

They worked quickly, wiping it over and working it into each crevice. They couldn’t be too safe. And the whimpers… A clean cloth bandage wrapped around his calf and they pinned it in place. 

“A hand, please. Whichever I should start with.” They held their palm up, offering the choice, but Payge was still curled into himself. They sighed and grabbed the closest one.

“No, no it hurts too bad!” He cried, trying to speak around the roll of bandages. “Leave it, how it is jus’ leave it…”

The antiseptic didn’t need to be poured in such a volume, but maybe it was their reward for dealing with him.

“Aren’t you drunk? You shouldn’t be able to feel a thing,” they shrugged as he screamed. The only thing that mattered was the way he struggled thoroughly cleaning the wounds. The same routine repeated with his other hand, and they were both bandaged in the same way. 

“Right. Your face.” He flinched away at the soft dabs and the butterfly bandage placed over his cheek. “There. All done.”

“I still… still can’t drive m’self home…”

Nicolai shushed him, scooping his torso off the asphalt to sit him up. They removed his soiled biker jacket, throwing it in the trunk and exchanging it for a few towels. One went over the backseat and the other went around his shoulders when they picked him up bridal style, laying him down gently across the seats. 

“Th’ fuck…?”

“I’m driving you home.”

“But… my bike…”

“I’ll take care of it. After I take care of you.”

[whitewolf2759]

First Meeting-Chris alonso

Hey guys I hope you enjoy this one-shot, I have just started publishing my writing so there may be some mistakes and if you want to view more of my content I will place a link to my youtube below.

You had first been introduced to Chris by Street the both you were raised at the same orphanage until you had been adopted by a nice old couple, however you made sure to stay in contact as he was like a brother in everything but blood.

After being adopted you had moved to the UK which was actually were you were born and raised until the age of six where you had been adopted by couple that were bad parent and chose to leave you when on holiday in America.

You were conflicted about as the UK was where you born but it would make staying in contact with Street harder. After reaching 18 you had followed in your adopter fathers footstep’s and joined the army as a medic.

After just over 19 week of army training as well as 22 weeks of medic training I then served for 4 years doing 2 tours after which I decided to join the military police.

At the age of 29 I had been a member of the military police for 6 years however during this I continued staying in contact with Street. We told each other everything as we comforted each other at every low and celebrated every high, however what we spoke most about was his team and every little shenanigan they got up.

These conversation gelped me decide to take an offer to move to America and work as a liaison between the military police and swat as well as an onsite medic.

///

Hey Chris!" Street waved to me "Come meet someone!"

I put my weights down and jogged over.

"Chris, this is y/n who’s basically my sister. She's going to be working here at SWAT."

"I'm mostly going to be assisting Commander Hicks and helping teams with military based cases as well an injuries if needed. It's not as difficult as what you lot do" You said with shy smile and slight blush at seeing the state Chris is in.

Chris almost didn't even process what you said because she got lost in  your bright eyes and shy smile. Get a hold of yourself Chris.

"Nonsense, you'll be plenty of importance. Welcome to 20-David" Chris say’s with a welcoming smile and dusting of pink of her cheeks at getting distracted shaking your hand.

While the two of you were focused on each othet neither noticed Street watching you both with a raised eyebrow, knowing look in his eyes and smirk slowly rising on his face before hiding it before either of you noticed.

///

You have now be working a swat for a couple of days and Street had introduced you to the rest of the team, while working if you had time you would spend in getting to each other and you made sure to give any teasing material they had on Street to annoy him when he gets in your nerves.

Most of the time you would obviously hang out with Street however you and Chris had also spent a lot of time together. With the amount of time spent with each other you had learned a lot about the other, for example you had learned that Chris loved trying a lot of different activities and she had learned of you love of reading. During all of this your attraction to Chris continued growing, however it only took one event for you to ask her out.

///

 Chris and the team had just returned after taking down a gang’s drug operation and the all got a bit banged a few scratches and bruises, Chris had the biggest wound which was a shallow cut from a knife on her right side.

“Chris you should really had gone to the hospital in case you need stitches” Hondo said in serious but tired voice knowing it was useless trying to get Chris to go the hospital.

“It’s fine it barely grazed me, nothing that wont heal in few days” Chris said in a tired voice just wanting to clean up and get out of her gear.

Both Hondo and Street shared knowing it was useless trying to convince however as they walk into HQ Street spot’s you talking to Hick’s knowing how much you worry about the team he now knows how to get her wound looked at.

“Hey Y/N we’re back” Street say’s catching you attention you glance at them before finishing you conversation with Hick’s.

As you make you way towards them Chris focuses on you seeing your hug your form showing your perfect hourglass figure causing her to get into a trance.

While this is happening the rest of the team leave to take their gear off besides Hondo and Street who share a look and Street indicates to Hondo what his plan is.

“Hey guys heard about the operation hope you all didn’t hurt badly” You said in caring voice your still showing you British accent.

“We’re fine just a few bruises but Chris has a cut she should get checked at” Hondo says in a hopeful tone hoping Streets plan works.

“What, no Im-.”Chris says in a annoyed tone with a slight blush realising she got distracted and they were still going on about her wound, however before she could finish her sentence Street interupted.

“Chris didn’t want to go to hospital so we were hoping you would take a look” Street said giving Chris a knowing look as she shot him an annoyed one in return.

“Sure, Chris meet me in office aftet getting changed” You said leaving no room to argue as head to your office to get your med kit ready.

As you leave Chris watches you getting slightly hypnotised by the jeans hugging against your figure. After shacking her head she look towards Hondo and Street about to argue about what they just did but stopped as they look at her with knowing look’s having caught her so she heads to changing room with a light blush leaving behind the two smiling at her action.

///

30 minutes later Chris enters your office with tank top and jogger's hugging her form causing a slight blush to form on your cheek's before you tell her to sit on your desk as you get stuff to clean her wound.

Chris heads to sit on your desk with a slight smile on her face having caught your blush, a happy feeling filling her at the fact you find her attractive.

You sit on your chair in front of Chris and raise her top just below her breasts, blush returning when seeing her toned form. You start cleaning her wound apologising when she winces at the sting, while this happening you stay quite focusing on her wound while she tells you about the mission

However both of you fail to notice that Chris stops mid way through her story. When you finish you realise she’s stopped you look up and immediately blush.

When she see’s your blush she realises she got so entranced on you while you focused on her cut that she stopped talking.

Not giving her time to talk you get up to get a bandage for her cut and as you come back you see a shy look on Chris face. Smiling to yourself you place the bandage on her and lower her top, as she gets up and begins to leave you stop her.

“What are you doing Sunday?” You ask with a small smile and hopeful look in your eyes.

“Nothing why?” Chris replies while turning back to face you.

“I wondering if you would like go on a date” You said the smile on your face widening as a shocked but happy look crosses Chris’s face.

“I would love to” Chris says a happy but shy smile on her face at the fluttery feeling you caused at the question

You just continue to smile as you walk towards her placing a kiss on her cheek before heading back intent on clearing up so you can finish early and start planning your date.

As you turn Chris watches you with surprise in her eyes before a sweet smile appears on her face as she leaves.

[thedreadvampy]

fuck me so the migration bill passed in Commons yesterday.

still gotta go through Lords so it MIGHT get slightly defanged but let's look at how well that worked for the Police, Crime and Sentencing Bill last year which passed into law despite native public outrcy with most of its anti-protest and all of its anti-Traveller clauses intact. and there's not been nearly the same degree of concerted protest against this one yet.

in a bid to """""""stop the small boats"""""", the bill will:

Override the rights enshrined in international law to seek asylum, instead prioritising the Home Office's new legal duty to deport any undocumented migrant to concentration camps in Rwanda. yes I said concentration camps they are mass internment camps for a specific group of people to be incarcerated indefinitely without trial. that is what a concentration camp is. here's home secretary Suella Braverman laughing in front of the "estate" built in Rwanda to house deported asylum seekers

allow for indefinite detention of children suspected of being undocumented until they can be removed to the Rwanda camps. Tory rebels said 'could we not have to review that after 3 days to justify their detention?' and the Tory government said 'no but if we pass the bill we pinky promise that we'll think about maybe adding in an indefinite review period at some point' so it passed.

remove temporary protections allowing people claiming they've been trafficked as slaves to stay in the UK while their case is reviewed, and to recieve some support and leniency if it's found that they are Literally Here As Slaves. that's off the table in this bill, if you get trafficked to Britain as a slave who give a shit it's off to Rwanda with you buddy. even former PM Theresa "We Have To Create A Really Hostile Environment For Immigrants" May was like hey steady on there lads. that is incredibly specifically going to make preventing modern slavery way harder because who the fuck is going to come forward and say "help I'm being enslaved and trapped against my will in bad conditions in an unfamiliar country" when the thing that the government will do with that information is trap you against your will in bad conditions in a different unfamiliar country? NOBODY IS GOING TO DO THAT meaning that victims will be penalised in law for being victimised and traffickers will face even fewer consequences. which to be fair is the Tory playbook.

it's fucked. it's fucked and I feel so sick about it and so afraid of how overtly fascistic and genocidal this government continues to get.

meanwhile their new voter ID laws are in place and they've already been caught lying to voters in high-opposition areas by sending out flyers from party HQ claiming you don't need ID to vote. which you now do.

it's very bad lads. it's very very very very bad.

in the past 24 months we've seen a constant flow of legislation targeting Gypsy/Roma/Traveler communities, migrants, LGBTQ+ people (particularly trans people), disabled and chronically ill people, and protesters and dissidents. meanwhile we're in our biggest cost of living crisis in 45+ years, protections for the poor are being stripped and national services are being privatised.

the best case interpretation as far as I can see is that they expect to be ousted in the next General Election (but that isn't until 2025) and are getting everything they want to do in terms of attacking human rights and wellbeing as far as possible so that the next government will struggle to roll them all the way back

the thing is though that Labour are just nodding along with all these policies and are in the process of aggressively removing the remainder of open leftists from the party's core power structure, having already removed the ordinary membership's ability to guide party leadership or policy, and the SNP, which has often lately been the only meaningful opposition party in Westminster, is in freefall and on fire over an embezzlement and corruption scandal. that plus the voter suppression laws and control over media that the government are wielding FEELS A LOT LIKE even if we make it to the 2025 election we might still get another Tory term.

Winter of Discontent...2!!!! has been something of a damp squib - there have been widespread strikes but little obvious impact. this winter felt like the time things were gonna snap but I'm just not sure we're ever gonna snap hard enough.

Idk I feel sick as a fucking dog. I don't know what to do. If anyone knows of any ways to help (in Edinburgh, I can't travel easily out of the city) with the Migration Bill situation or with stuff more broadly, hmu. I'm pretty well tuned in on trans rights and abortion rights protests but I don't have connects for most other stuff.

[bl-danmei-planet]

Some thoughts on: Jinx (fandom)

I got obsessed with the hottest manwha of the day. The fandom especially on tiktok is going crazy and the work has received a lot of love and hate. I'd like to examine some thoughts about tiktok fandom and jaedan dynamic and what makes it so addictive and controversial (to some.)

"Toxic bl" "Red flag", To some young readers Jinx seems to be the first yaoi they are reading. It might have the Killing Stalking effect, it has shock value and people read it even though they hate it. It has the typical seme-uke dynamic from their character design to the plot as the wholesome virgin uke being in debt and the rich sex-crazy seme. Dan suffers physically, economically and emotionally in life and in the hands of Jaekyung. The dynamic is far from equal. Will it eventually become one? Will Dan's suffering be ever equal to Jaekyung's? This is what keeps the story interesting.

I think it's not contradictory that Jinx is popular in the time when two things in love are considered important: communication and consent. This is where the critique comes from. Jinx lacks both but is still hugely popular(but so are many heterosexual romances in this category: "Oh no what if a popular rich man had to have sex with me and fell in love with me even though I'm a poor virgin".) I think the taboo of it draws in, and Jinx being a yaoi as a genre it is somewhat still considered taboo although modern western fandoms might not think so(conversations around lgbt+ rights, respectability politics, representation etc Everything is very visible and has to seek approval from everyone. Where does sex fit into this?)

Debate of the fandom nowdays: fiction=reality? I have seen comments comparing Jaekyung (and his fans) to a real-life rapists and murderers. I think the topic of fiction affecting reality is interesting and nuanced but what matters here is the context: this work is part of a niche genre and audience. I also think that some people should stay away from smut. They lack literacy both in fiction and sexuality.

BDSM, violence, coersion and transaction as part of romance: Here is also the "classic yaoi" dynamic: the BDSM undertones, that in some fan theories will come play a bigger part of the plot and Jaekyung's character. The power dynamic is supposed to be unequal in such fantasies. It's not for everyone. The thing about dark topics/dynamics is that they catch the attention of the reader. Sometimes they are more psychological and sometimes it's just for the smut and gore. I'm interested to see how in depth Jinx will deal with these topics. So far it has been highly entertaining with constant suprises and cliffhangers.

"Who will fall first? Who will fall harder?". Jakeyung has already fallen for Dan but he does not realize that yet. He shows his feelings through possessiveness. He is an emotionally detached workaholic. He deals with stress through sex and that way Dan is his savior as well. He also represents something different, something genuine to him compared to his previous partners. Dan also has feelings for Jaekyung as he worries and cares for him. I think they will continue to communicate their feelings for each other through sex(/bdsm) and protecting each other in difficult situations in life.

I think Mingwa has crafted a very addicting story and I'm interested to see where this story goes. It might be a tropey romance but sometimes that's what you need.

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/763760056446681088/i-know-sam-at-least-has-been-lower-on-the-call?source=share

ngl I was worried it was going to be someone I like, like Essie Davis, so I'm relieved it's someone I've never heard of! So weird when people are awful like that. Why? It seems like it makes the awful person's life harder as well as making things awful for other people

Haha, yeah, she’s very local, which I suspect is part of the motivation on her end. From everything I’ve heard, it sounds like she gets off on being a big fish in a little pond.

A lot of Aus actors will reach a certain degree of success here and try to transition it to bigger markets i.e LA or the UK, and the process of that has been described to me as both exciting and very (very) humbling as there are very few Australian movies or shows that have industry weight or recognition, and many (many) fail.

As a result though, you often do see this sort of dynamic play out with actors who stay and feel they’ve built up local industry versus actors who have left and come back and now may have some name recognition and thus sell-ability internationally, even if they’ve just done like, a CW show or something (it all helps in theory with selling a series to distributors too). It goes both ways too, of course - some actors who work internationally come back feeling better than local production, but this is really just to say that there can be weird power dynamics like that on Australian sets sometimes.

From what I’ve heard, she seems to be someone who feels she’s paid her dues and has earned a spot at the top of the local industry (which honestly, she has), and the result is she deserves whatever she wants from crews and directors, and anything less than the exact thing she wants is a personal insult. At the same time, she’s apparently extremely competitive with actors, both men and women, who she feels may usurp her as one of the most bookable actors in Australian TV.

It’s messy! But yeah, I’ve heard a lot about her mean girling and bullying people across departments on set.

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHASE & STATUS FT. STORMZY - "BACKBONE"

A full 8 years since we've covered these folks -- what is time anyway...

[6.55]

Nortey Dowuona: Stormzy had it all. He was the highest up in the UK grime scene, the best-known British MC worldwide; he had the Banksy vest, he was the one. Then the pandemic happened, he got into Christianity hardcore, he had choirs on his albums, and he and Maya Jama finally broke up. But strangely, this seems to have liberated him. After all, he still established MerkyBooks, Merky FC, that lil scholarship for a couple black kids. All he built hasn't crumbled -- it survived. Now he can relax and get back to more immediate, arrogant and boisterous MCing; thus, this song. The screeching little riff that keeps popping up in the beginning is snapped so harshly out of existence by the drum-and-bass drop that when the drums slip out for 2000s-type breakbeats, the energy never comes down. Big Mike back in the yard, fucking shit up -- but like Antonio Rüdiger. [9]

Alfred Soto: With the sonic verities of grime resistant to Brexit, Boris Johnson, and new loft construction, it's a pleasure to hear Stormzy growl through this almost perfunctory demonstration of relevance. Standing pat is standing tall -- for now. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: "Don't tell us how it used to be, just tell us how it is." Chase & Status are at a point in their career where their last three albums haven't even gotten Wikipedia articles written about them, and Stormzy's place at the top of grime's hierarchy has been bloodlessly toppled by Central Cee. There's a chip on the shoulder of this collab, a palpable sense that one's laurels are a false comfort, because you're only really as good as your latest festival banger. That fear of fading can paralyze, but in this case it hones and focuses. Drum and bass formalism is politely nodded at but is mostly repurposed for parts, used to fashion nimble musical phrases that veer sharply around corners, defying easy prediction while remaining punchy and cleanly legible. The aggression is of an inviting warm-blooded kind, with Stormzy dissing house music more out of deference to his guests than from genuine animus -- he does still call himself a singer, after all. There's enough mutual trust going on for Stormzy to be given the task of orchestrating the drop, his staggered vocals injecting the title phrase with more heft than it logically should have. [8]

Scott Mildenhall: More power to the Chase & Status resurgence, as more power is needed. "Backbone" is regrettably tepid for a duo that burst through and back with hits of intensity. Neither they nor Stormzy leave first gear, ensuring that they stay upright and little more. It's not robotic, but it only has Walcott on the bench. [6]

Katherine St. Asaph: You don't get to diss "all that fuckin' house shit" on a track that comes this close to all that fuckin' brostep shit. [2]

TA Inskeep: LTJ Bukem and MC Conrad (RIP) walked almost 30 years ago so that Chase & Status and Stormzy could run to a #1 UK single. Hearing DnB hitting the top in 2024 will never not make me happy. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: Stormzy's hook aims for the eerie simplicity of ScHoolboy Q's "Collard Greens," but its sing-song is of the nursery-rhyme kind. He brings some bluster on his verses, telling us many times how unimpressed he is with these "pussies” and pronouncing the word with the insistence of a schoolyard bully who hopes the force of the insult alone might establish his authority. The maniacally spurting synth sounds more worrying, but a brisk drum-and-bass rhythm reassures: the beat and the low end are why we're here. Everything else is unnecessary distraction. [5]

Mark Sinker: Fragment of a harder (or anyway more chaotic) DnB version can be found on IG, which some will prefer as it definitely moves the focus back to the production duo (now half as old as time, or even as me). In the official release they do seem to be backing out of Stormzy’s way, maybe because as self-announcing defiance goes, his rap seems rambling and querulous -- opaque in a good way, but also kind of small-time? Uneasy stands the dad who wears the crown.  [7]

Isabel Cole: Makes me feel like an American studying abroad, in that I'm pretty sure I'm overrating this because of the accent. [6]

Ian Mathers: There will always be a space for tracks that fulfill the important criterion of "I think I could run through a wall if I was listening to this loud enough and timed it so I hit the right moment and the wall simultaneously." [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: It would do this track a disservice to spend too much analyzing its relative merits and demerits; this is extremely effective music to get rowdy to, and I hope that you take this time to do so in whatever way you see fit. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[my-burnt-city]

TBC 30 Day Challenge

Day 29: One thing you wish for the future

If we'd been doing this challenge while the show was still running, then I imagine I would have had all sorts of exciting giddy wishes here, for parties, for merch, for new scenes, for new characters, for new-to-TBC performers. ("Imagine", like I don't already KNOW what many of those wishes would have been!)

But the show is dead

And this is going to be hard to understand and maybe harder to explain, but my wish is that it will stay dead

After The Drowned Man closed, they almost immediately decided to open Sleep No More in Shanghai, and so a whole bunch of TDM performers packed their bags and went to Shanghai. SOME OF THEM ARE STILL THERE NOW (CONOR). And every now and then I hear mutterings that Punchdrunk sold the Shanghai rights to TBC, that they're going to close SNM in Shanghai and replace it with TBC, whatever

I am not a wealthy woman. I've been to New York on occasion, but Shanghai just isn't on the table for me unless another pandemic comes along and I end up jobless but several grand richer for it again. The idea of a whole bunch of these wonderful performers going halfway across the world - when several of them have already done so, and others are very liable to regardless - frankly sucks. It sucked enough when a whole bunch of TDM faves flew away to be in SNM; I imagine it will hurt a LOT more if a whole bunch of TBC faves fly away to be in TBC where I cannot see them

Can you imagine? Knowing that The Burnt City is out there? Looking at the cast list or at Instagram and seeing that your fave is on in their very best role, or maybe an exciting new role? AND THERE IS LITERALLY NO WAY FOR YOU TO EVER SEE IT?

Shanghai aside, I've also heard rumblings that there is the possibility of re-envisioning TBC right here in the UK, and honestly I think that would kinda suck too. It would feel like a monkey's paw wish if they did it - our belovèd died, and we felt that raw grief, and we wished for our belovèd to return, and we wished SO HARD that it actually worked, but the belovèd that came back wasn't the same, it was lessened and terrible for it and should never have been wished for. We can't work through our grief if they decide to get our hopes up that maybe we can see our show again, even though it will never be the same, in a way that goes beyond mere cast change levels of "never be the same"

We have loved. We have lost. We have grieved. We were so fortunate to have been there for the entire life cycle of such a beautiful thing. But I wish that the dead would stay buried, to let our love for the show stay more-or-less as it was at the moment of closure, without having to reshape that love around the idea of the same show but not the same reality of it, risking the possibility that to reshape our love will be to lose what we currently have

Let the dead stay buried, and let us look instead to the future

(And if any of 'em have to go to Shanghai, make sure they buy a fucking return ticket)

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me | John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!OC

Chapter 18: The Lakes

Ao3 | Masterpost

Nina and John are reunited

General Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

Words:

“I know I stabbed you but was breaking my ribs really necessary?” Nina asked as Ghost helped her hobble back from the bathroom. He chuckled under his breath. 

“I won’t try as hard to save your life next time.” He said, wrapping an arm around her legs to lift her back into bed. She winced and whimpered in pain. Her nails dug into his hoodie. He let her lean against him as she started deep breathing. She was given pain medication but her whole torso ached. 

“Please actually just let me die next time.” She said, blinking tears away. 

“I don’t think Johnny would have liked that.” He said. 

“Have you seen him?” She asked as he lifted her to sit on the bed and helped move her legs so she could lay back. 

“Yesterday before you woke up. He ripped his stitches crawling down the hall.” 

“Why was he crawling in the hallway?” 

“To see you. Would have made it if he didn’t leave a blood trail. Gaz and I had to carry him back. The nurse chewed him out harder than Price ever could.” He laughed as took his regular seat in the chair by her bed. 

She turned away trying to hide the flush on her face. He was beautifully stupid sometimes. She would have laughed if it didn’t make her cry. 

She’d spent a lot of time crying over the past 24 hours. She’d tried to remain stoic for all of 10 seconds before memories flooded the dams behind her eyes. Price’s hands on her shoulders as she sobbed out begs for knowledge about John. 

He was okay. Needed stitches and will have to do a couple of weeks of physical therapy but he’d be okay. 

He was being sent home at the end of the week. Price had declared no arguments would be had about it. She would stay here with him while Gaz, Ghost, and John returned to the UK. Agent Laswell was going to arrive later that day to settle all the paperwork. Price said to give it four to six weeks and she’d be in England too. 

“I don’t have an extra room but we can set you up in my office for a bit and depending on how long you need, get you a real bed.” He assured. He’d been ‘fathering’ a lot the past 24 hours. He’d gotten her new earrings (‘these won’t turn your ears green’). He held her hand through the copious amounts of catch-up vaccines she’d gotten (‘Had to do the same thing during basic’). He kicked Ghost out of the room yesterday evening after she ate her first real meal in 3 days. 

“I never stopped looking for you. Shoulda never left ya after seeing your dad yell like that. Shoulda taken you in myself.” He thought she was asleep. His voice kept cracking. “I wouldn’t have been the best dad but you woulda been safe. Coulda gone to school and done your A levels. Woulda taught you how to drive. I was young and a coward. Wish I broke that cunt’s jaw that day. You were a baby, Nina.”

She clenched her good hand. He wanted privacy. He was talking like no one could hear. Maybe he did want her to hear on some subconscious level. He thought she was asleep so she kept the act up. 

“A baby to me at least. Every country I went to, I asked if they’d seen you or your father. I had ears in Russia, Mexico, Urzikstan. Fucking Kyrat…” he chuckled. “Whole unit thought your dad killed ya. Couldn’t stomach the thought. When Laswell called to ask about my former Captain and his daughter, almost went mad. She wasn’t sure but there was some English girl in the mountains of a failed state. I wanted to get you that day, bring ya home. That agent that had contact you, he was lucky he was dead on arrival. Using you as bait? Wanted to cave his head in for that.”  

He stood up, the metal scrapped against the linoleum. 

“If I ever get my hands on your dad… God’s mercy on him 'cause it won’t be mine.” He pushed her hair back and kissed her forehead, his beard hair tickled her face. “John’ll be good to ya. You deserve it.”

Ghost came back after he left and found her crying. He grabbed her a tissue box and took up his silent watch. 

She liked that he was quiet. It made her calm. He would sit with his back towards her, legs stretched out with his heels resting on the floor. The chair in the room was the most comfortable and every half hour or so he’d get up and stretch before sitting back down. 

He’d talk if she did but there wasn’t a lot to say. She didn’t know anything about him. She just stared at his back and made up stories in her head.

“It’s rude to stare, love.” He spoke, shattering her mental picture of him watering an impressive rose garden. 

“Why the skull?” She blurted out. 

“Hmm?”

“Why the skull mask if ghosts don’t have bones?” 

“A skull’s more intimidating than a white sheet.”

“You do it to scare people?” He shrugged. It worked, scared the shit out of her. Scared the nurses too. He’d taken it off and switched to a medical mask, baseball cap, sunglasses, and pulled-up hoodie (all black); at Price’s request. Too many rumors had been swirling about the hospital apparently. “I mean it works. It was pretty fucking scary.”

“Scary enough to stab me?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

“In my defense, the rest of them were wearing balaclavas… how badly did I get you?”

“Not bad. Little more than a nick honestly. One of few to get me and survive to talk about it.” 

“Scary and dangerous.”

“Your boyfriend isn’t a pacifist either.”

“He doesn’t wear a skull mask.”

“He has before.”

She almost didn’t catch it - boyfriend. Was he her boyfriend? She played around with the word silently in her mouth. Boyfriend. It was a downgrade after spending the previous week referring to him as her husband.

They’d left the ring on her hand. It was disgustingly dirty now. The stone was cloudy and the band was tarnished. Dark brown blood filled any scratches. She hoped she’d be allowed to keep it. 

There was a knock on the door. Ghost got up and pulled the curtain around her; a standard procedure now. 

“You hear with permission or do I have to carry you back to your room?” Ghost said.

“He’s here with me.” Price said. “Is she up?”

John…

“I’m up.” She said before Ghost could get a syllable out. There was the squeak of rubber against linoleum. John hobbled around the corner. 

“Hey, Neen.” He was grinning. His face was bruised from where the butt of the gun hit him. 

“Hi, John.” She pushed herself up straighter. It fucking hurt. 

“Hey, careful. I’ll come to you.” He came around the side of the bed and dragged a chair over with his crutch. He took her hand in his, smile fading as he saw the bandage. It looked like he was choking on his words. “I’m so fucking sorry, Neen. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He looked at his feet and held her knuckles against his forehead. He was trying not to cry, she could see it in how his shoulders were hunched over. 

“Why are you apologizing?” She said, cupping his cheek. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t protect you, Neen. You almost died and I...I didn’t do anything,” His voice cracked. 

“Come here,” She tugged on his wrist. He looked up at her. “I almost got you killed.” 

She grazed her fingers over the bruise around his throat. 

“I didn’t want to watch you die,” she hiccuped. “ I was gonna come back for you. I wasn’t going to leave you. I was gonna kill him and I was going to come back. We were in it together. I failed just as much as you.”

John pressed his lips to her knuckles before speaking against them.

“I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t want to leave you here.” His eyes were red

“I’ll be okay… could you call me when you get back? So I know you’re okay? So I can hear your voice?” His eyes lit up and he smiled at that.

“Every night, Neen. I call ya every night. No matter what, you call I’ll pick up, aye? Till you touch ground in England. I told you you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.” He pushed himself up on one crutch and leaned in to peck her cheek. He checked to make sure Ghost and Price weren’t looking before coming back with a sloppy kiss on her lips. 

“I might not be able to keep my hands off you next time,” he whispered. “If Price doesn’t kill me first.”

“I won’t let him.” She whispered back. 

“I get checked out tomorrow but Gaz and I will bring you lunch before we leave.” He gave her another quick kiss. He kept turning to leave but would stop to give her another kiss. 

“Come on, Soap. She still needs rest.” Price said, coming around the curtain to end their privacy. “You’ll see her tomorrow. “

“Call me,” he mouthed, holding up a hand to mimic a phone. She grinned and nodded. 

“So who’s paying for all these international calls you two are planning?” Price asked as they left. Ghost came around when the door shut. 

“Johnny’s a good man. Take care of him.”

“I will.” 

He nodded and went back to his post. She found herself smiling when she woke up the next morning. 

It was an early lunch. She, Price, and Ghost could hear Gaz yelling at John to slow down from the elevator to the room. 

Price was helping her sit up to eat when John came in, moving as fast as he could on crutches. 

“You’re supposed to knock, Johnny,” said Ghost. 

“Like you didn’t know it was me, L.t.” 

Gaz followed him with two large brown paper bags filled with food.

“Finest Mexican in Northwestern Canada for you, darling,” Gaz said as he started taking takeout containers and setting them on the fold-out tray beside her. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. Gaz and Price pulled up their own chairs and the four of them dove in. John used his limited vocal capacity to explain what everything was. 

“This is good but you have to try real Mexican one day.”

“Is this not real Mexican?”

“No way. Rudy showed Ghost and me the best street tacos I’ve ever had.”

“When have you ever had street tacos before?” Gaz asked, incredulously. 

“Never. That’s why they were the best.” The two started laughing. 

“Ghost? Come join us.” Nina said. He looked back over his shoulder at her and gave a soft shake of his head. “You need to eat” She turned to the others “I’ve never seen him eat.”

“I eat when you sleep, love.” 

“Price is cutting my food for me so I’m unarmed.”

“She does have a fork though,” Gaz laughed until Ghost gave him a look. He still pulled up a chair.

“What’s your opinion on the food?” She asked, offering him a chip. He took it but didn’t eat.

“Alejandro’s was better. Can tell by the smell.” 

“Didn’t think the two of you would be itching to go back to Mexico so quickly.”

“Just for the food, Sir,” John said. “Wouldn’t mind seeing the Vaqueros again someday.”

“Vaqueros?” Nina asked.

“Mexican special forces unit we worked with. Means cowboy.” Ghost said, he’d eaten the chip when no one was looking. 

“I’ll take you one day,” John said as he took another bite of fajitas. 

“You’re gonna take me to Mexico?” She asked. When he told her about Las Almas he didn’t speak of anything happy. 

“You’re taking her to Mexico?” Price asked, arms crossed. John shrugged.

“Outside of work, of course. Las Almas is beautiful when the sun’s out. There are other parts of the country I’d like to see too. Gulf Coast, the old temples.” He’d taken her hand and was rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “Don’t want to lose any of my Spanish skills either.”

He kept his hand on hers for the rest of lunch but eventually he had to leave. Gaz was kind enough to pack up any leftovers for Price to take back to his hotel. Laswell had secured them temporary housing once she checked out in a couple of days. They’d stay there till her paperwork was ready and she could fly. 

John lingered as he always did. He was careful of PDA in front of Price but would steal kisses to her cheek whenever he wasn’t looking. He wrote his number down on a napkin for her. When they were afforded a small moment of privacy, he pulled something from his pocket.

“I need you to take care of this for me, okay?” He handed her a silver necklace with his ring around it. “I have to see my maw when I get back and I think she’d lose her mind if she thought I eloped. Can you keep it safe for me till I see you again?”

She looked at him, tears springing up in the corners of her eyes as her bottom lip trembled. He kissed her. It was tender with his hand cupping the back of her head. 

“Six weeks and I’ll take you on a proper date, aye?” 

“Yeah.” He helped her put the necklace on. 

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. Just you and me.” He kissed her cheek. 

She knew he would see him again. Laswell was going to drop off a phone for her tomorrow so they could talk. Six weeks wasn’t long compared to twelve years. She would sleep through most of it. His reassurances and sweet words didn’t help much when he gave her one last kiss goodbye. He was trying not to cry too. 

“Call me whenever, Nina. I mean it.” He would have stood in that doorway forever if Gaz hadn’t tugged him away. “Six weeks, it’s a date.”

“A date.” She smiled. 

And he was gone. 

“Six weeks,” she told herself. “Just six weeks.”

Tag List: @yeyinde @queen-ilmaree @yearningforsappho @mykneeshurt @gogh-with-the-flow

LMK if you want to be added for this or any other fic 💗

[thessalian]

Thess vs Situational Depression

Oh, yay, now I’m depressed.

I mean, at least I’m depressed for reasons. Most of them involve the fact that I’m currently trapped in an increasingly fascist hellscape of a country. Apparently Rishi fucking Sunak is telling the people who live here what our priorities are, and apparently they’re not “the high cost of living” (including 300% energy inflation, 40% basic food inflation, stuff like that), with its twin “the fear of freezing or starving to death and actually praying it’s or rather than and because that’s the best we can hope for with you scumfucks”, “the collapse of the NHS” (entirely the fault of nearly 1.5 decades of Tory austerity), “climate change”, stuff like that.

Noooooooo, apparently our real priority is “stopping asylum-seekers in small boats”.

Which is how they phrase “people fleeing war and / or persecution and trying to get to a country where they have family and / or speak the language but aren’t given any way of doing so by the UK government so are forced to risk their lives in tiny boats to get here”. So just imagine I’m saying that every time I talk about asylum-seekers. Not that anyone I follow is going to be shitting on asylum-seekers anyway ... and if you’re going to, you might want to stop following this blog because seriously, read the metaphorical room.

Anyway, point is that this is currently becoming a mess, and it’s a domino effect situation even if you don’t really care about the lives of people trying escape a situation so horrible that the risk of death by drowning in the fucking Channel is preferable. So here’s how it’s looking as of today:

Rishi fucking Sunak, backed by Suella “Obssessed With Sending People To Rwanda” Braverman, took Prime Minister’s Questions today, and the main ones were about the “no small boats” law. It’s actually obscene, that the children and grandchildren of immigrants are standing there and talking about how they will lock up and deport people who’ve risked their lives to avoid that and worse, and have openly admitted that they’re happy to leave people to the mercy of the slave trade. I mean, that’s on the fucking promo material. This is enough to make me sick.

Thing is ... Braverman keeps saying this is legal ... but it's really not. Not according to the European Court of Human Rights, to which we are still signed up for the moment. So there’s the next domino. They tell us that we want to “stop the boats”, and then insist that the only way they can do that is to leave the ECHR.

Now, if we leave the ECHR, a whole lot of other rights go too, not just the right to claim asylum. Employment rights. Right to protest. Right to free speech. Think of the most basic human rights - those would be gone, because the UK doesn’t have its own Bill of Rights, and hasn’t in some time. It didn’t need one, because it had the ECHR and the EU’s Bill of Rights. Thing is, once those are no longer enshrined in law, we only get them back as ‘rights’ if the Tories see fit to grant said rights. Nothing they have done so far says they will see fit to do so ... and either way, if someone has to give them to you, and can take them away on a whim, do they really count as rights anymore? The Tories are on the Might Makes Right train, and there’s not a whole hell of a lot anyone can do about it, because the ECHR sits alongside the Good Friday Agreement on the “Things You Asshole Xenophobic Brexit Voters Didn’t Think About At The Referendum” shelf, and will stay there until ... well, forever, because I think far too many people won’t care until it affects them, and by then it’ll be too late. There’s already a law that will allow the prosecution of media whistleblowers. So much for freedom of the press...

The other thing is this: every tiny, misshapen ‘divorce deal’ we have with the EU depends largely on things like remaining in the ECHR. If we leave, that makes policing harder, and the EU will crack down, and we will be entirely in the “Hard Brexit / No Deal” situation. Things are bad enough now. People aren’t even surviving ‘now’. If it gets worse ... I can’t even think about it.

But I fucking have to, because I HAVE TO FUCKING LIVE HERE.

I must be getting mentally healthier because I’m not wishing I were dead. I may be thinking that I hate my life right now, but that doesn’t mean I want it to end. Hell, that’s the problem; I don’t want my life to end but with the NHS collapsing, the cost of living getting increasingly insane, and all of this on top of my current health issues? At the rate things are going, my life might fucking end. I mean, probably not, because I know my parentals would help me as much as they needed to if things got really horrible, but it’s hard to think that when things get this bad. Thus, depression.

I’m going to be taking on some more hours at work. I think I can manage it, though there’s going to have to be some fanangling. See, I cannot work a five-day week. That is a non-starter. So I’m moving up to 25 hours a week up from 20 - an extra hour two days a week, and an extra hour and a half the other two. Thing is, there might be an issue on those few days when Scruffman wants me in the office becuase we’re short-handed. Because I can handle a six or six and a half hour day if I’m not having to commute for three hours, but on top of the commute? No. Nooooooo. I can barely handle five hours at work with the commute on top. The best we’ve been able to come up with is to make up the extra time on a day when I’m working from home. Which just makes a week with a lot more work, because I count the commute as work, thank you. But there’s not much I can do about that, and seriously, the money is going to help. At least it’ll make me feel better. It’s not enough to make me wealthy by any means, but a security blanket never hurt anyone. Anyway, Scruffman’s passing that up the chain so we’ll see what Head Honcho has to say. Probably won’t start until the next pay cycle anyway.

In other news, it snowed today. It’s still very cold. I am contemplating turning the heating on a bit (I’ve been trying to avoid that, even though I’m not paying these bills ... and that’s another reason for more hours; for the day when I am paying the energy bill and I have to deal with that percentage of energy inflation). I’m also contemplating a trip to the shops but I don’t wanna. It’s cold out there! Buuuuuuut if I don’t go now, if I leave it for an hour to see how I feel, the temperature’s going to drop lower and all the wet from the alternating snow and rain we had most of the day will freeze and I will be unable to leave the house. Probably best to stock up for that eventuality anyway.

Plus ... I dunno, maybe situational depression can be cured or at least palliated by a can of Coke and some chocolate.