#yorkshire against hate

[antifainternational]

LEEDS REPORTBACK: Yesterday Leeds AFN joined the newly formed coalition "Yorkshire Against Hate" in opposing a rally organised by "Mick" (English Bulldog) who is a part of the migrant hunter grift. Unfortunately migrant hunters received minimal attention from antifascists while Patriotic Alternative had the spotlight. This allowed them to tap into public opinion and direct anger towards migrants instead of the neoliberal economic policies and degradation of public services that led to people becoming poorer.

Prior to the demo concerns were already arising with Alek Yerbury already expressing concerns that the police weren't alerted and not much prior planning had occurred.

On the day Yorkshire Against Hate took the space early on outside the hotel before the far right could create much of a relevant presence and receptive messages from asylum seekers inside the hotel.

Despite the heavy police presence and fenced off zones, antifascists managed to break the kettle and meet the far right where a few scuffles had unfolded.

The far right crowd had a couple of noticeable figures including a Walter Mitty type and a Proud Boys Britannia member Warren Gilly.

A major barrier to organizing was the SWP that attempted to police the YAH bloc.

Overall the day went well with no arrests on our side and far right being outnumbered.

Yorkshire Against Hate is a newer coalition and did quite well in spite of that.

[nincompoopydoo]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ  nincompoopydoo // WIZARDING WORLD MASTERLIST

theseus scamander

⋆ caught in a crossfire [series]: Theseus and his team of Aurors are tasked with a mission to take down a recent movement formed by dark wizards and witches with the intention to erase all muggles. The night takes a turn when you arrive at the scene unknowingly and it seems you’re the next target. ⋆ in search of a grecian beast: As you, Theseus, and Newt find yourselves on a secluded Grecian beach along the Aegean Sea, an endeavor unfolds to seek out a Hippocampus. However, plans don’t turn out as expected. ⋆ for old times' sake: Theseus attempts to convince you to leave your desk. ⋆ happy christmas, dung brain: you visit the Scamander household on Christmas, seeing Theseus after a long time and the two of you’re not sure what to do with all these feelings. ⋆ bertie botts: Theseus gets injured during a fight and you’re mad. ⋆ overnight shift [series]: you and Theseus were known rivals among the Aurors at the British Ministry of Magic. ⋆ false signs: unsaid feelings turn into what seemed as unrequited love to Theseus but it turns out you’re in love with him as much as he is in love with you. ⋆ tea at newt's: newt plays accidental matchmaker. ⋆ envy: you’re jealous, although you hate to admit it, of Theseus’ rather flirtatious assistant. ⋆ trespassing: trespassing during a mission leads to a life or death situation when you and Theseus find yourselves entangled with a dangerous dark wizard. ⋆ war and anguish: theseus returns home as a war hero but you’re engaged and he doesn’t know what to do with himself and his feelings for you. ⋆ crimson cheeks and ivory snow: you spend a snowy day learning to ice-skate with the help of your crush, Theseus. ⋆ behind the sofa: you rant to Newt about his brother’s constant teasing at the workplace which led you to seek a hiding spot behind the sofa when Theseus unexpectedly shows up at his brother’s place. ⋆ shadows on ancient stone walls: soulmate AU: Where the outline of your shadow is your soulmate.

newt scamander

⋆ scamander: you are constantly being used by a ‘friend’ of yours but when you reached your limits, Newt is there to comfort you.

james potter

⋆ healed [series]: you and James had been the best of friends since your Hogwarts days. Thus, you grew strong feelings for the boy, feelings stronger than just plain platonic although you knew about James’ extreme infatuation for the beautiful and intelligent ginger, Lily James. ⋆ you owe me butterbeer: you and James are best friends and you are constantly helping him get Lily’s attention, even if you didn’t like doing so, simply because of your crush on James himself. However, things take a turn and James catches on a little later that he may not truly have feelings for the redhead but instead for someone who has been there with him all along. ⋆ mistletoe and holy moly, are you trying to kiss me?: James is trying to get you to kiss him under the mistletoe.

sirius black

⋆ flowers: you’re the quirky and socially awkward girl that Sirius has a crush on but his flirting ways seem to not work on you. ⋆ prejudice: you’re a Slytherin who stood up for a Ravenclaw against your own housemates which caused you to be attacked. Having been sent to the infirmary, you’re met with the charming Sirius Black.

remus lupin

⋆ alive and true: having found a lost friend, living in the countryside of Yorkshire, feelings of once hidden affection start to bloom in the need to be alive and good things to be real. ⋆ war changes you: Remus comes to visit you at the Hogwarts infirmary involuntarily sparking some old feelings you might have had for each other after not seeing each other for so long.

fred weasley

⋆ good, pure, and beautiful: the Leaky Cauldron serves as a sanctuary to drink your problems away for the night but a certain ginger always seems to find his way to you. ⋆ sheperd's pie: you desperately need a break from studying for your upcoming OWLs which left Fred Weasley, your best friend, the responsibility of coaxing you to do just that despite you being quite headstrong. ⋆ near death: Fred Weasley dies. Nearly.

george weasley

⋆ where two lonesomes meet: in the midst of a Christmas market sits a bench where two walls meet. Here is where two lonesomes meet. ⋆ nature mourns with the mourning: you and George finally find solace after the Battle of Hogwarts. ⋆ five to four: you comfort George after the Battle of Hogwarts. ⋆ snowball fight at midnight, that's christmas to me: where George simply had the audacity to force you to a battle of snowball in the middle of the night, out in the cold.

[puckstories]

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!OC (Scottlyn Tatum)

Warning(s); Fluff, a lot of dialogue (I hate dialogue lol) mainly just a little backstory/intro stuff. Quinn is not in this chapter, but mentioned. Edited only once.

Summary; Scottlyn sees the infamous Hughes lake house for the first time + a little incident occurs.

Word Count; 3.2k

Series Masterlist; here

Author’s note; I’m so so so excited for this series, and I’m hoping you guys share at least a little bit of that excitement. This will probably end up being a short series, not sure how many exact chapters but definitely less than 20 chapters. Thank you for all the support as of late, and per usual, any thoughts and reblogs are greatly appreciated and encouraged. Also, please let me know if you guys would want me to make a taglist (: -Honey

It felt strange to be in Michigan during the height of summer. The hot, sticky air and the sounds of bees buzzing in the distance were familiar enough, but something about this year felt different, almost surreal. Throughout her time at the University of Michigan, she never stuck around once the semester ended. Summer meant home, and home was North Carolina. As soon as finals were over and her last project submitted, she’d be on the first flight back, eager to return to the comforts of her childhood.

She could finally sleep in her queen-sized bed, sinking into the softness of her familiar sheets instead of the stiff, generic dorm mattress she’d endured for months. She could take long, hot showers without the awkward shuffle of flip-flops on cold tile floors, and without having to share the space with half a dozen other girls. More than that, though, she could bask in the warmth of being home—seeing her parents again and their little dog, Boomer, the tiny Yorkshire Terrier they’d adopted after she left for college. Boomer had been a sort of replacement for her, a small, energetic creature to fill the quiet that followed her absence. There was something comforting about that familiarity, about returning to the people and the places she knew best.

But this summer was different. After graduation, she did go back to North Carolina, spending a few weeks at home like she always had, settling into the rhythm of her family’s routine. But it wasn’t long before she found herself on a flight back to Michigan, a place she had come to love but never considered staying in over the summer. Only this time, she wasn’t returning for school. Instead, she was visiting her best friend, Luke Hughes—the friend she’d met freshman year, who had somehow become one of the most constant and important people in her life.

The decision to come back hadn’t been planned. In fact, if someone had asked her a few months ago what she’d be doing this summer, she would’ve confidently said she'd be home in North Carolina, probably interning at her dad's real estate agency, avoiding the responsibility of figuring out what she wanted in a career. But something about Luke’s invitation had changed that plan. When he’d casually mentioned coming to stay at the Hughes’ family lake house in Michigan for a couple of weeks, she hadn’t hesitated for long. It felt like the right kind of break after graduation, a chance to unwind before diving into the “real world.” Plus, she hadn’t properly seen Luke in months, not since the last time the Devil's played the Red Wings at Little Caesars Arena, and that was far too long for her liking.

The thought of the lake house had sounded peaceful—a retreat, an escape. She imagined herself waking up to the sounds of birds and the gentle lapping of water against the dock, far away from the grind of job searches and the looming pressure of starting her post-college life. It was easy to say yes, especially to Luke, even if it meant being in Michigan during a time of year she usually wasn’t.

Still, there was something slightly unsettling about being back in a place so tied to her school years, yet not being a student anymore. It was as if she were in some in-between space—no longer tied to the familiar routines of college life, but not quite ready to fully embrace the next chapter. It was disorienting, to say the least, like she was hovering on the edge of something new yet didn’t quite know how to step into it yet.

But there was Luke. Spending time with him was a prospect that brought its own kind of comfort. The easy, carefree bond they shared had been a constant for two years, continuing without a hitch when he went to New Jersey, and she could already picture them falling back into the familiar rhythm of their friendship—late-night drives, early morning conversations on the porch, the kind of relationship that didn’t require much effort or explanation. Luke had been there for her through a lot—breakups, the stress of school, the uncertainty of post-college life. He was the brother she'd never had.

"Think any harder, and your head’s gonna explode all over my car," Luke teased, one hand casually gripping the steering wheel as he shot an amused glance her way. His mouth curved into that familiar grin, the one that could easily get him out of trouble in any scenario.

Scottlyn let out a huff, rolling her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. She leaned her head against the window, watching as the big houses of Bloomfield Hills blurred by, bathed in the harsh glow of the late afternoon sun. "It’s just weird," she said, tracing a finger along the clothed skin of her knee. "Being back here and not in school anymore."

Luke nodded, a slight shift in his expression as he turned his gaze back to the road. "Yeah, I get that," he said, his voice a little quieter now, understanding in his tone. "It’s an adjustment."

Scottlyn turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, please," she said, "says the college dropout."

That earned her a light shove in the arm, his hand leaving the gear shift for just a second to swat at her. "NHL player, smartass," he shot back, laughter in his voice.

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. Convenient excuse."

"Hey, I didn't see you saying no to free tickets," Luke teased, his grin widening. "Or to all the parties you crashed at school just because you were my best friend. You got a lot of mileage out of that title."

Scottlyn chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't think I crashed anything. I was always invited."

Luke smirked. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

This was how it had always been between them—easy, spirited, a balance of razzing and genuine endearment. Luke was the one person Scottlyn could count on to keep things light, no matter what was going on. They had been through so much together in the last four, almost five years of knowing each other, and now, post-graduation, there was something comforting in knowing that no matter how much life was changing, some things—like their friendship—had stayed the same.

Luke glanced over again. "You’re not, like, nervous, are you?"

Scottlyn hesitated, biting her lip for a second before letting out a small laugh. "Not nervous," she said, though the truth was a bit more complicated. "Just… I dunno. It’s like, I’m used to Michigan meaning classes, exams, and late-night study sessions. But now? Now it’s just… different. No routine. Just—" she paused, glancing over at him. "Just lake house vibes."

Luke grinned at that, a boyish gleam in his eyes. "Hey, lake house vibes are good vibes. Trust me, you’re gonna love it. We’ll swim, go out on the boat, grill out, have bonfires—no school for you, no stress. Just good times."

Scottlyn smiled, feeling a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders. "Okay, okay, you’ve sold me on it," she said with a laugh. "No thinking about post-grad life for two weeks. Got it."

"Exactly," Luke agreed, leaning over to nudge her once again. "Just two weeks of summer, friends, and fun. Also, you'll get to meet Quinn."

"Ah, the infamous older brother you’ve modeled your game after," Scottlyn says with a teasing smile.

Luke snorts, shaking his head with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Best defenseman in the league right now," he says, his voice dripping with that easy confidence that comes with being a Hughes brother. "I’ll take those odds."

He says it casually, but there’s no denying the pride that flickers in his voice. It’s the same look I’ve seen in his eyes whenever he talks about Quinn—a mixture of admiration and competition. It’s funny to watch, knowing Luke well enough to see how much he respects his brother, even if he’d never fully admit it out loud.

"Best defenseman, huh?" She arches an eyebrow, her smile widening as she leans back in her seat. "That’s a big title to throw around."

"Hey, I didn’t give him the title," Luke says, shrugging with mock innocence. "The stats don’t lie. And if I’m learning from the best, that just means I’m gonna get better, too." He flashes a quick grin.

Scottlyn rolls my eyes, though the smile on her face betrays her. She knows Luke well enough to understand that this playful arrogance isn’t just for show. Underneath it all, he’s driven, constantly striving to be better, and if modeling himself after Quinn helps him push himself further, who is she to argue?

Besides, it’s hard to ignore the constant comparisons between them. Luke has always looked up to Quinn, even if he sometimes bristles under the weight of being "Quinn’s younger brother." The expectations were set early, and Luke’s been chasing them ever since. And yet, there’s always been something about his determination that she's admired—his ability to carve out his own path while still respecting the one Quinn laid out before him.

However, despite all the stories Luke has told her over the years—how Quinn’s a natural leader, how he handles the pressure of being captain, how he’s the kind of person who’s serious when it counts but can still make his brothers laugh—You've never actually met him.

"He sounds cool." Scottlyn comments, absentmindedly, casually.

"You’ll like him," Luke nods, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. "Quinn’s different from Jack and me. More introverted, maybe. But he’s a good guy. He’ll like you, too."

She nods, feeling a small flutter in my stomach at the thought of meeting Quinn for the first time. It’s not that she's nervous, exactly, but there’s something about the idea of finally seeing him in person that feels significant. Maybe it’s the way Luke talks about him, or maybe it’s the curiosity that’s been building over the years—wondering what kind of person he is beyond the highlights and the headlines.

"I’ll take your word for it," Scottlyn replies, her voice lighter now, feeling reassured by Luke’s casual confidence. His words had a way of calming her, even when her thoughts were racing ahead.

The rest of the drive feels brief, the minutes ticking by in comfortable silence as the scenery shifts from suburban streets to quiet roads lined with towering trees. Scottlyn leans her head against the window, watching the landscape blur past, the late-afternoon sun casting dappled shadows over the car. Her mind drifts to the lake house—what it will look like, what it will feel like to finally meet Quinn, and whether the two weeks she’s about to spend here will be as relaxing as she hopes.

Before she knows it, the car turns down a winding gravel road, and her breath catches in her throat as they pull up to a stunning three-story house just off the water. The dark brown paneling and large, panoramic windows make the house blend seamlessly into its surroundings, and yet it stands out as a striking, almost architectural masterpiece. The way the sunlight reflects off the glass makes the house appear to glow, giving it an inviting, almost magical quality.

"Wow," Scottlyn breathes, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but this wasn’t it. The house is gorgeous, the kind of place you only see in vacation brochures or the pages of a magazine. It’s even more stunning than Luke’s casual descriptions had suggested.

Luke notices her reaction and grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Yeah, it’s pretty great, huh?"

"Great?" Scottlyn turns to him, still taking in the house, the way it seems to stretch toward the water as if it belongs to the lake itself. "It’s incredible."

A couple of cars are already parked in the driveway, including a sleek black truck and another vehicle she doesn’t immediately recognize, which means others are already here. A flutter of nerves stirs in her stomach—Jack's here, probably Quinn too, and the realization sends a sudden jolt of anticipation through her. Luke pulls the car in behind the black truck, cutting the ignition with a smooth motion before turning to her, his easygoing smile still in place. "I’ll show you your room, then I’ll give you the grand tour once you’ve settled in. Sound good?"

Scottlyn nods. "Yeah, sounds good," she says, trying to sound casual despite the sudden mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her.

As they step out of the car, the crisp summer air hits her, warm but with a cool breeze drifting off the lake. The scent of pine trees mingles with the faint, refreshing smell of water. It’s quiet here, serene, the kind of peace that immediately makes you want to exhale all the stress you didn’t realize you’d been holding onto. The only sounds are the gentle rustling of the trees and the distant calls of birds near the lake’s edge.

Luke grabs her duffle bag from the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder as he leads the way up the stone path that winds toward the house. "You’ll love it here," he says over his shoulder, his voice full of that easy confidence again. "Everyone’s already here, but it’s super chill."

As they approach the front door, there’s a part of her that’s excited, but there's a bigger part that feels nervous about stepping into unfamiliar territory.

As Luke opens the door, she’s hit with a rush of cool air that smells faintly of cedarwood and something clean, like freshly washed linens. The interior is as beautiful as the outside—open, airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an uninterrupted view of the lake. The living room has high vaulted ceilings with exposed wooden beams, and there’s a large stone fireplace that gives the space a cozy yet elegant feel. Sunlight pours in, casting soft, golden hues across the hardwood floors, making everything seem to glow with warmth.

Scottlyn feels a sudden rush of excitement—this is going to be good.

"Come on, I’ll take you to your room," Luke says, leading her up a wide staircase that curves toward the second floor. He moves with the kind of familiarity that only comes with years of knowing a place inside and out. As they reach the landing, he gestures to a door at the far end of the hallway. "This one’s yours. It’s got a view of the lake, so you’ll wake up to that every morning."

"Wow, Luke," Scottlyn says, her eyes widening as she steps inside the room. It’s spacious, with soft cream-colored walls and large windows that overlook the glittering water. A queen-sized bed sits in the center, dressed in crisp navy linens, and there’s a small reading nook by the window with a plush armchair and a stack of books on the side table. The room is simple but cozy, with the perfect amount of charm. "This is... amazing."

Luke drops her bag by the door, grinning. "Told you it’d be great."

Scottlyn smiles, her excitement bubbling over again. "I love it. Thanks for inviting me."

"No problem," Luke replies, giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder. "Settle in, and when you’re ready, I’ll give you the full tour.

Luke gives her a two-finger salute and heads out, leaving her alone in the room. She takes a moment to stand by the window, looking out over the calm waters of the lake, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting a soft glow over everything. This was going to be a summer of relaxation, of letting go of all the stress that had built up over the last few months, Scottlyn would make sure of it.

After the initial awe of her new surroundings begins to fade, Scottlyn turns her attention to unpacking, eager to settle in. She moves over to the dresser, methodically placing her clothes in neat stacks, organizing them by category—t-shirts in one drawer, shorts in another, and her more comfortable clothes stashed in the bottom. There’s something calming about the process, something that makes this unfamiliar space feel a little more like home.

Once she’s finished unpacking, she glances down at her travel outfit—sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that, while comfortable, still carry the stale feeling of a long day of traveling. She decides to change into something more fitting for the warm summer day. Sliding open the dresser again, she pulls out a pair of loose denim shorts and a simple, light gray tank top. Perfect for lounging by the lake or exploring the property.

She strips off her sweatpants first, tossing them onto the bed before reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. Just as she’s pulling the shirt over her head, arms momentarily trapped in the fabric, the bedroom door swings open.

The sudden burst of movement catches her off guard, and before she can fully comprehend what’s happening, she hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and the voice of a guy—slightly deep, surprised, and definitely not Luke.

A startled gasp escapes her lips, and she quickly yanks the shirt back down, her pulse quickening as she instinctively clutches it to her chest, trying to cover her exposed skin. Her heart races, caught between shock and embarrassment. Standing there, frozen for a split second, she blinks at the now-closed door, her mind catching up to the sudden intrusion.

On the other side of the door, the guy—whoever he was—slams it shut with a loud thud, followed by a hasty, deeply embarrassed "Sorry!" His voice is muffled now, but the mortification is clear.

Scottlyn's face flushes hot, her body still tense from the sudden intrusion. She stares at the door, half-expecting it to swing open again, but it doesn’t. Silence falls over the room, save for the rapid beating of her heart as she tries to process what just happened.

Who the fuck was that?

It clearly wasn’t Luke—she would’ve recognized his voice. No, this voice was a little deeper, a little rougher. Not Jack's either. Oh God, was it Quinn?

The thought makes her stomach do a strange flip. If it was Quinn, her nerves are already frayed. She hasn’t even officially met him yet, and now, he’s seen her half-naked? Perfect. Great first impression, Scottlyn.

Still clutching her t-shirt to her chest, she moves quickly to lock the door this time, her heart still hammering in her chest. She leans back against the cool wood, letting out a long breath, trying to calm the embarrassment that’s currently heating her face. She tries to shake off the mortification, reminding herself that accidents happen—whoever it was clearly wasn’t expecting to walk in on her changing.

Scottlyn lets out a nervous laugh, though it’s more out of disbelief than humor. "Welcome to the lake house," she mutters to herself, pushing off the door.

[arliedraws]

Go on about Sirius and Benjy I am listening

Well, I went down a Benjy Fenwick hc rabbithole and created a backstory, so thank you for that

Benjy Fenwick comes from a working class seaside town in North Yorkshire. His father is a mechanic and his mother works part time as a cashier. Benjy’s the oldest of five children—he and his youngest brother (born when Benjy is about twelve) are the only siblings with magic. But he almost didn’t go to Hogwarts because he could hardly afford any of his books or materials, but he worked his little eleven-year-old butt off to make extra money. A natural salesman, he finds scraps to sell to kids he knows, gambles, scams adults until he gets the money he needs.

He loves his parents, particularly his mum. He feels incredibly guilty to be leaving his family behind, convinced that he needs to take care of them, but his parents insist that he goes. When Benjy gets to school, however, it’s clear that he is Poor. The first person to point this out is Bellatrix Black, a particularly nasty Slytherin girl in his year who comes from a very old pureblood family.

But Benjy is the most shameless, charming, devil-may-care sort of boy. He’s decent at school, but doesn’t care about doing well—he just cares about doing what’s right. He’s a jock type without possessing a shred of interest in the jock activities—he doesn’t give a damn about Quidditch but gets bored sitting still, but he’ll fly a broom to see how fast it goes. Too clever for his own good—could talk his way out of anything. He doesn’t need to lie—he just tells the truth so plainly that you can’t help appreciating his candor.

All of this infuriates Bellatrix Black, and she’s determined to make this little Ravenclaw as miserable as possible by trying to turn people against him. But Benjy is a really difficult person to hate. He’s the sort of kid who, if he doesn’t get a spell correct, is the first to laugh at his mistake. He asks the “dumb” questions in class—the ones that people are too embarrassed to admit they don’t know the answer to—with a shit-eating grin. He’s the first to protest if a professor gives them an extra long essay or a pop quiz and give the most convincing argument why the teacher should spare them—and sometimes, he’s even successful.

He gets a few O.W.L.s and a couple of N.E.W.T.s but not enough for a job in the Ministry. He never really wanted to do bureaucratic shit anyway. When he finishes school, he goes back home to work with his father as a mechanic. His family has always been his first priority, after all. And he’s pretty happy! He’s probably gay and he has younger siblings who are happily married and having kids, so he feels no pressure to “settle down” and marry some girl.

Anyway, Bellatrix Black’s old rivalry with Benjy never faded, and his family is savagely murdered in one of the earliest massacres of the war. He was supposed to be killed too, but he happened to be elsewhere that night. Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick are murdered, as well as two of his siblings, their spouses, and their children. Benjy goes feral when the Ministry do very little to investigate. He decides to hunt down the perpetrators himself but accidentally ends up sabotaging an Order of the Phoenix mission led by Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore asks Benjy to join the Order, and soon, Benjy becomes a key player in the war. He’s an excellent duelist, he can make muggle explosives that evade magical detection, he hasn’t got a lot left to lose, and most importantly, he has to make the world a better place for his little brother who’s still at school.

Benjy has been with the Order for five years by 1978. He’s still cheeky but a little jaded, battle-hardened, and a bit wary of the newest recruits who are too fresh out of Hogwarts. What is Dumbledore thinking bringing on these kids? And one of them is Bellatrix Black’s cousin.

This Sirius kid is charming and reminds Benjy a bit of himself when he was that age, but Benjy is also a bit suspicious of the pureblood heir. He hides his distrust, though Sirius can sense it. When a mission goes wrong, Sirius risks his own life to save his friends and finally earns Benjy’s respect. Others in the Order still don’t entirely trust Sirius because of his family, but Benjy sees something in him and takes Sirius under his wing as Sirius’s friends become more and more distant while the war pulls them apart.

Benjy spends more time with Sirius who constantly drops in unexpectedly at his house in Yorkshire. He’s worried about Sirius who begins behaving recklessly as James becomes more entangled with Lily. Benjy has to pull him back, insisting that he’s needlessly putting himself in danger.

When Sirius is furious that James and Lily are planning to wed, Benjy initially doesn’t see the problem—then he realizes that Sirius is in love with James. Benjy attempts to comfort him, but he discovers, to his surprise, that perhaps he’s always wanted to comfort Sirius. But Sirius is too young for him and in love with someone else…though he can’t deny he wants this kid very, very badly.

Meanwhile, Sirius desires approval from someone he respects, and Benjy has always praised Sirius in exactly the way Sirius likes—sarcastic remarks and a pinch of his cheek, winks, exasperated smiles. He likes how Benjy throws his arm around his shoulders like they’re mates; he likes that Benjy treats him like an adult when they’re on missions. They drink together, share the same kind of humor, etc. Benjy even brings Sirius to work in the auto body repair shop, etc. It’s hard to resist the older wizard—and it doesn’t help that Benjy is a fit, working class hunk.

Neither is sure who made the first move, only that Sirius came directly to Benjy’s house after James proposed to Lily. Benjy lets Sirius rage about it until Sirius, exhausted, settles down next to Benjy on the sofa, and Benjy just sort of…strokes his hair. And a lightbulb turns on for both of them.

From then on, when Sirius isn’t with his friends, he’s with Benjy. He doesn’t tell anyone about his relationship with Benjy (who warns that if Moody finds out, they won’t be able to partner up anymore). As they become more involved, Sirius can’t always explain where he’s been which looks…suspicious to people.

Anyway, if this were a fic, I’d probably add the plot of Bellatrix finding out about Benjy fucking her most eligible bachelor cousin, reigniting her old hatred of him.

Yada yada, Benjy dies to save Sirius—and no one alive knows they were ever together.

[bullet-prooflove]

A Perfect Night: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @anyamcdonald @elizabeththebat

When Roy first meets you it’s at an awards ceremony where he’s been nominated for Sports Person of the Year. He has a dozen of these fucking awards, each one collecting dust at the top of his wardrobe. The only reason he’s here is because he’s been strong armed into it, apparently, it’ll be good for the club, help raise it’s profile. He doesn’t fucking know. He hates these things.

The only thing that makes the event anywhere near bearable is you. When he bumps into you at the bar at the afterparty he’s fucking elated because he hadn’t just listened to your true crime podcast, he’s devoured it. He relistens to his favourite episodes during gym training, he immerses himself in the story because the way you tell it is perfection.

In the aftermath he realises that he fell in love with the sound of your voice long before he ever laid eyes on you.

“I fucking love your podcast.” He tells you after you let him buy you a drink. “The one about The Sandman had me up for fucking days, I mean it I was scared shitless.”

He’s not lying, he slept with the light after listening to that episode. He knows the guy is locked up in Broadmoor or somewhere like that but on a dark stormy night listening to the sound of the windows rattle…

Yea, he was fucking freaking out.

He’s never stopped to think about what you looked like, not until you got up on that stage and received the award for Podcaster of the Year. His brain couldn’t comprehend the intimacy of the voice in his ear to the woman standing before that podium, inviting her entire team up for making it happen. He likes that about you, that it’s not just your win but theirs as well.

“I swear I didn’t sleep a wink when I was researching it.” You inform him, jabbing at a piece of ice with your paper straw. “When I went to the place he grew up in Yorkshire, they still have all these weird little wooden stick things that he made hanging around on the trees there. It was like something out of the Blair Witch Project.”

“That’s fucking creepy.” He agrees as he leans back against the bar and takes a sip of his beer. “Please tell me you took a photo or something?”

You take your phone out from your sequined handbag and waggle it from side to side with a knowing smile. He finds himself grinning because the conversation the two of you are having, it’s grim, but he is in his element. You’re the first person he can talk to about shit like this and he is living for it.

You lean in close to show him the picture and he catches the scent of your perfume on your skin. It’s subtle, wild rose he thinks, with a hint of something a little edgy to offset the floral undertone. There’s a sensuality to it, he imagines his face buried in the curve of your throat, inhaling it as he makes love to you in that pretty lace dress that you’re wearing.

He’s drawn back to the moment when you tilt your phone towards him and use two fingers to zoom in on the picture. He sees what you’re talking about, weird shit made out of string and sticks, all different shapes and sizes, some of them are smeared with red.

“That is chilling.” He says and he fucking means it.

He can feel that odd little sensation chasing up his spine, it genuinely puts the shits up him. He has no idea why he chases this feeling; he finds the topic fascinating. He fucking loves puzzles. Trying to solve the mystery before the episode ends really gets him going.

“The hotel was literally right next door.” You tell him as you slip your phone back into your clutch. He notices that you don’t move away, that your arm is still pressed against his. You seem to feel as comfortable as he does in each other’s proximity. “My window literally looked onto them, I had to the sleep with the lamp on because I could hear them clacking together when the wind picked up.”

“Fuck me, I would have been out of there.” He tells you, shaking his head before he points his beer bottle in your direction. “You’re a brave one I give you that.”

He doesn’t expect to spend the entire night sitting at a table in the corner of the bar swapping stories. He usually ducks out early when it comes to these things, but he finds you captivating. Despite the fact you’re the storyteller, you actually turn out to be a pretty good listener. He tells you about Phoebe and the time he got called into her school because of her ‘drawings’. He was expecting some weird murderesque type shit from the way her teacher was going on, it wasn’t until he got there that he discovered that they were just really graphic drawings of breasts.

“And I mean unnervingly realistic charcoal sketches of them.” He explains, using his palms to empathise the shape. You take a sip from your drink to hide the pink that tinges your cheeks, because the thought of this man’s hands on you…

You don’t allow yourself to finish the thought.

It isn’t until the bar staff are starting to clean up around you that you realise how late it’s gotten, or rather how early. It doesn’t occur to you until now that you’ve spent the enter time discussing the world as you know it with a complete stranger. It sounds like the beginning of your own true crime podcast.

“I’m sorry.” You laugh as he helps you into your coat. “I didn’t even ask your name.”

Roy chuckles because for him, this is the perfect end to an absolutely perfect night.

“It’s Roy.” He tells you. “Roy Kent.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[reclusive-manwhore]

Well, before i go to bed I'll write something (i love to tease u with my non-creation😈😈)

You mentioned that you're supposedly a "hopeless romantic". But.. why then are you so harsh in bed, or does it seem to me? Idk. As a true hopeless romantic, i want to write something sweeter than that stupid, silly story about a housewife. Of course, you're not that age anymore and this story doesn't suit you, but I'll write. I just want to write you something kinder than the slutty nonsense (although that is also good in some ways).

First love is the gentle light of dawn breaking through the morning fog. It is the thrill of your heart beating in unison with a melody that only you can hear. It is like a flower blooming in a spring garden, enveloped in the scents of freshness and hope. These are looks full of promises, when the world around freezes, and only the two of you exist in this moment. Every word is like a whisper of the wind, every touch is like a spark that lights a fire in your chest. Your story is written on the pages of time, and every moment becomes eternity. First love is dreams that fly high like birds in the sky, and the fear of losing this fragile joy. It is laughter that sounds like music, and tears of happiness when you realize that you have found a reflection of your soul in someone. It can be fleeting or last forever, but its sincerity and purity remain with us forever, like a gentle whisper of memories of what it means to love for the first time.

In Yorkshire, where green hills smoothly turn into endless fields, there lived a sweet girl named Emily. Her parents were farmers, and she helped them with their work from an early age. Emily was kind and decent, always ready to help. She studied excellently and dreamed of a future full of adventures.

One day, when Emily was working on the farm again, she was sitting on a bench and combing the beautiful mane of her favorite horse named Nymph. The sun's rays softly illuminated her face, and the wind played with her hair. Suddenly she heard the sound of an approaching pickup. The car stopped at the gate, and a woman of about forty-five with a short haircut and a boy her age got out. The boy did not look the most tidy: his hair was disheveled, and his clothes seemed too big for him. He pressed his back against the car and began to look around the area. Their eyes met, and Emily felt something inside her tense. "What are you looking at?" the boy said roughly, his voice harsh and unkind. Emily quickly looked away and returned to her horse, feeling the awkwardness filling the air.

The boy came closer, his expression still wary. Emily, gathering her courage, asked, "Are you new here?"

He frowned. "Yeah, we moved here a couple of days ago. I hate this place."

"Why?" Emily wondered. She found it hard to understand why anyone could dislike this natural idyll.

"It's boring here," he replied with disgust. "Nothing interesting. Just fields and cows."

Emily smiled. "But it's beautiful! You can walk around here, ride a horse…”

“Horses? I don’t give a damn about horses,” he said with disdain.

Emily felt insulted. “Why would you say that? Horses are great! They’re beautiful.”

The boy narrowed his eyes, but curiosity flickered in them. “Do you really think so?”

Emily nodded. “Yes! I spend a lot of time with them. They can be great friends.”

The boy thought about it. “I never thought of it that way. I’ve never had animals…”

“What’s your name?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Jake,” he answered, softening a little.

“I’m Emily. If you want, I can show you Nymph. She’s very friendly.”

Jake hesitated, but finally agreed. They approached the horse, and Emily gently stroked its neck.

"Nymph, meet Jake," she said with a smile.

Jake looked at the horse with interest. "She's beautiful," he admitted.

Emily felt a connection beginning to form between them. They began to talk about different things: school, life in the country, and how difficult it was sometimes to find common ground with new people.

With each word, Jake became more open. He told Emily about his life in the city and how he didn't like his new school. Emily realized that beneath his rough exterior was a vulnerable soul.

"Maybe you just haven't given this place a chance," she said. "There's a lot to see here, if you look hard enough."

Jake thought about her words. "Maybe you're right. I'm just not used to all this."

They spent several hours together, discussing their dreams and fears. Emily realized that Jake wasn't such a bad guy after all, and he saw her as a true friend.

The next day, Jake came to the farm again. Emily was happy to see him and offered to show him around. They rode horses through the fields and explored the woods around them. With each passing day, their friendship grew stronger. Jake began to feel more comfortable in his new surroundings and even began helping Emily around the farm.

"Thank you for showing me the world," he said one evening after a long day of work.

"I'm glad you're here," Emily replied with a smile.

Emily and Jake grew closer and their friendship gradually blossomed into love. One day, sitting by the pond at sunset, Jake confessed, "I feel like there's something special between us." Emily agreed, and they kissed.

Their relationship deepened, they shared dreams and supported each other. But difficulties soon arose: Jake was worried about his friends' reactions to their feelings. Emily assured him that the most important thing was themselves.

Over time, Jake became more confident in his feelings. On the top of the hill, he whispered, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Emily smiled and replied, "Me too." Their hearts were full of hope for a future together.

('m sleeping on the go and I don't even know why you need to read this childish nonsense, gn 😴😴😴)

the reason i'm so harsh in bed is, to put it bluntly, because of my parental issues. more specifically, my motherly issues; i was adopted as an infant, and only met my biological mother once. it was a horrendous experience and i never talked to her since. as for my adoptive mom, she wasn't really any better. people i've befriended through here know what i mean by that. i won't go into detail on it publicly, but i am willing to be THIS vulnerable on my blog and no further. these kinks saved me in many ways. they saved me from developing actual misogyny, giving up on sexual interests and exploring kinks entirely. it became an outlet for me to consensually channel my anger that i felt towards women through sex, release it, give it to a willing woman who wants it, to make me feel good by making her feel good, through pain and suffering. getting close with women taught me so much that i loved about them. it taught me that they are very complex, vulnerable, emotional people, and it taught me to not treat them poorly out of malice, solely for the fact that bad women shaped a part of my childhood. i don't let my past experiences with women who wronged me skew my vision of them or negatively impact my experiences with them now. i love women, and i always will, and it's largely in part due to this. and i guess that also largely explains why i'm such a hopeless romantic; i just wish women who raised me cared about me as much as some do now.

your story was amazing. i'm sorry i didn't really focus on it in this reply. i just never really had the opportunity to post about something like this on my blog before, and the opening to your ask kinda hit me hard. but i love your writing. hoping you can have the courage to DM me. would love to meet you.

[brainrotbrainrotbrainrot]

Captain John Price relationship headcanons that are rotting my brain. Mostly fem but can be read as male.

Also just little British things I don’t see much of?

sfw and nfsw (under the cut)

-

He still has a season ticket for his favourite football team despite not being able to attend any matches. He refuses to give up his seat.

Disappointed that he’s always deployed when the Ashes and cricket are on. Will teach you to understand cricket so you can keep him updated when he gets time to call you.

A man of simple pleasures, please take him to a Greggs when he’s home. Though he’ll complain about the price increase of sausage rolls for about five minutes.

Teaches you the differences between IPAs and stouts when you’re at the pub and likes your opinions on them, even if you hate all beers. It’s just a thing between you two that you do together when he’s home.

If you ever get McDonald’s, this man puts his chips in his burger and will hold the bun up till you rid his burger of gherkins. Only keeps them on his burger if you’re a fan of them, otherwise he’ll always order them without. He will not let you tease him about his hatred of gherkins.

Wants to adopt a retired police or army dog if gets to retire with you. On that note, he wants to settle down with you, but can’t commit to the idea till his enemies are gone and he knows you’ll be safe.

Absolutely makes the best gravy and Yorkshire puddings ever for a Sunday roast.

Loves nothing more than sitting on the couch with you with a drink, watching a TV show or movie. But he always falls asleep and his head rests on your shoulder. It’s like a little routine between you two.

Always buries his head in your shoulder for a good few minutes and holds you to decompress when he’s home.

Loves coming home with fresh flowers to see your reaction every time.

This man snores when he’s home. At first you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with it, but realising that it meant he was in such a deep sleep around you and was getting rest, you forgave the snoring. You know now that it means he’s having a good night. If he’s not snoring, then something is probably troubling him.

Builders brew, has to be Yorkshire tea. Absolutely hates PG tips. You know how to make his perfect cup and he always reminds you and gives you a kiss when you bring him a cup.

nsfw.

Loves putting his hand on your thigh when he’s driving. If you take his hand off for whatever reason, the glare he gives you immediately makes you instantly put it back.

If you ever say a bad word about your body, he’s instantly ready to worship you and show you that he loves every part of you. He loves to worship your body, especially thighs. He loves marking your thighs since you can hide the marks and only he knows they’re there. But your thighs? Did I mention thighs? He’s obsessed. He loves to bury his face in them and would happily let you suffocate him. Loves to fuck your thighs too (especially male partners).

Hand always on the small of your back when you’re out and about, not too much of a hand holder. He knows it makes you feel safe and he’s the only man you felt like that with.

Won’t fuck you till he’s made you come at least once. Hands, mouth, whatever it takes. Your pleasure first and always. He definitely knows how to use his hands on you but his mouth is divine. Will always eat you out like a starved man.

Loves good old missionary, loves making eye contact and being able to hold your thighs in that position. Also loves it when you’re on top for obvious reasons again. Cannot ever keep his hands off of your thighs. But he’ll make sure you don’t do all the work when you’re on top, he loves to help out. He hates feeling like you’re doing all the work.

Sleepy spoon sex before bed and in the morning if you’re in the mood.

Hand jobs, he loves hand jobs. Almost more than you being on his knees for him. Loves it when you press against him and put your hand in his trousers and jerk him off that way. Goes mad for it. Loves it when you make his knees feel weak.

Please squeeze this man’s balls more. It’s the only way he’ll whimper for you.

[marvelmaniac715]

Here’s what I remember about Modern Doctor Who episodes which I have never rewatched (it’s been quite a while since I watched all the episodes back to back at the end of last year and throughout this year) but there’s a character limit so I’m cut off:

The Unquiet Dead - Ghosts and Charles Dickens and Rose’s first trip to the past with Nine

Aliens of London/World War Three - Farting Slitheen family aliens, politics and Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North then Prime Minister (yes, I know who she is)

Dalek - I screamed when I saw a Dalek levitate up the stairs, Rose imprints on a museum Dalek, the Doctor tells a Dalek to die and we meet Adam

School Reunion - K9, Sarah Jane, brain boosting chips and kids who do coding

The Girl in the Fireplace - Reinette, “I’m the Doctor and I just snogged Madame de Pompadour”, banana daiquiri, ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’, fake drunk Doctor insulting Mickey with the adjective “thick” , a horse that the Doctor can’t keep and a spaceship (I’ve seen so many TikTok edits so I know more about this one despite only watching it once)

Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel - Rich Jackie in alternate world, living Pete, alternate Mickey, Rose the Yorkshire Terrier, Doctor and Rose as waiters, and the Cybermen

The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit - Satan himself, a possessed guy with pen on his face and introduction to the Ood

Love and Monsters - Absorvaloff, “wrong bucket”, LINDA, ‘Mr Blue Sky’, Jackie flirting with the protagonist and Elton John

Army of Ghosts/Doomsday - Cybermen, our first glimpse of modern day Torchwood, “I did my duty” and the devastating loss of Rose

Smith and Jones - Introduction to the BAMF Martha Jones, a platoon of Judoon on the moon and an old lady with a straw

Gridlock - Bad traffic, mood patches, Face of Boe says “You Are Not Alone” and a woman has a basket of cats with a cat man

Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks - Andrew Garfield, pig man, human Dalek, Empire State Building, Tallulah and the Great Depression (I distinctly remember sarcastically asking “is the Doctor going to stop the Great Depression?”)

42 - “Burn with me”, the sun and a quiz, aside from that I really don’t remember (hated this episode)

Blink - The Weeping Angels who give me the creeps, peeling off wallpaper to reveal a message from the Doctor, the Doctor’s dvd messages and Sally Sparrow (I physically cannot rewatch this because I instinctively stop blinking whenever I see the Angels and I don’t want my eyes to dry out so I’ll give this one a skip even though it is great)

The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End - Missing planets, Shadow Proclamation, insane vortex Dalek, Davros himself, a major epic team up with everyone from all over the Whoniverse and the devastating loss of Donna Noble’s memories

Planet of the Dead - “Hello, I’m the Doctor, happy Easter”, a bus, “He will knock four times” and Lady Christina (I think that’s her name anyway) being a thief and turned down flat when she tries to be a companion

The Beast Below - Happy and sad robot things and a very young looking Queen in space

Victory of the Daleks - Human Dalek guy, “Would you care for some tea?” and Winston Churchill being involved in a fight against Daleks

The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone - Return of River Song my QUEEN, Weeping Angels again, “That which holds the image of an angel becomes an angel” and the church army

The Vampires of Venice - Fish vampires, Venice, “then we will take your world” and the Doctor jumping out of a stag-do cake

Amy’s Choice - Dream pollen, Peruvian folk band with ponchos, pregnancy and sinister old people

The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood - Silurians, Amy being dressed for a much warmer country and a young boy who I affectionately dubbed ‘Exposition Child’ and promptly forgot the actual name of

The Lodger - Fake upstairs apartment, my city being the setting (not filmed there btw) and James Corden being… himself

The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang - Big villain team up, River becomes the sun, a fez is yeeted into the distance never to be seen again, plastic Roman Rory, Cleopatra River and the Doctor gives an epic speech

The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon - Child River, the Doctor dies and it’s very creepy

Night Terrors - Creepy dolls singing nursery rhymes, an old lady eaten by a bin, a man swallowed by his floor and an alien child overreacting to an extreme level

The Girl Who Waited - Old Amy and the Doctor lying to Rory to kill a version of Amy (not a cool thing to do)

Closing Time - Cybermen, Stormageddon, the Doctor working in a shop and James Corden 2: The Cordening

The Wedding of River Song - The Doctor doesn’t time so time goes weird, the Doctor gets hitched and I really can’t remember much else

The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe - Narnia ripoff with trees and Matt Smith falls out of a hammock then attempts to play it off like it was part of the scene in the script

Asylum of the Daleks - Dalek eye stalk on humans, Amy hallucinates whilst becoming a Dalek, a pointless divorce and Clara Oswin the soufflé making Dalek

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship - Dinosaurs and Rory’s amazing dad who has a trowel (also the Doctor has a Christmas list)

A Town Called Mercy - A horse called Susan who wants their owner to respect their life choices, the Doctor in a brand new hat and general Western vibes

The Angels Take Manhattan - Weeping Angel Statue of Liberty, more River and we lose Amy and Rory forever but there’s a nice mystery book with a foreword from Amy so it’s all okay

Cold War - Submarine and an Ice Warrior

Hide - 1970s ghost plot (didn’t like it)

Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS - FINALLY we see much more of the TARDIS!

Nightmare in Silver - Cybermen, ungrateful kids and Warwick Davis

Into the Dalek - Rusty says “You are a good Dalek”, Clara meets Danny Pink and cares so the Doctor doesn’t have to

Listen - Orson Pink, Dan the Soldier Man, the Doctor whips out his dad skills and fear is a superpower

Time Heist - Big bank heist and people with flat heads

Kill the Moon - Courtney from Coal Hill (glad she didn’t come back) and an uncomfortable allegory involving the moon being an egg

Mummy on the Orient Express - A train with a killing Mummy and Clara in a great outfit and bob haircut

Flatline - Rigsy, graffiti, tiny TARDIS with the Doctor trapped inside and scary vibes

In the Forest of the Night - Danny leads a school trip, there’s trees, one of the kids is played by the girl that used to voice Peppa Pig and I think at one point it tells kids not to take their medication? I got a bit confused with this one

Last Christmas - Santa and murdering dream worms

Under the Lake/Before the Flood - Bootstrap paradox monologue straight to camera (“Google it”), and the Doctor’s apology cards

Sleep No More - ‘Mr Sandman’ and eye crust

Oxygen - Capitalist space suits, a blue guy and the Doctor goes blind

The Pyramid at the End of the World/The Lie of the Land - The scary Monks rewrite history, Bill’s mum inadvertently changes things, Missy is iconic as always and Bill makes a bad deal

Empress of Mars - Ice Warriors and “God save the Queen” written on Mars

The Eaters of Light - Crows can talk, and Missy CRIES

The Woman Who Fell To Earth - We meet Thirteen and there’s a guy with teeth in his face

The Ghost Monument - Race and sunglasses

Arachnids in the UK - Spiders and Trump

The Tsuranga Conundrum - Pregnant man

Demons of the Punjab - Yaz’s grandmother and racism to aliens

It Takes You Away - Norway, Wooly Rebellion and talking frog

The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos - Teeth Guy

Resolution - Human woman possessed by a Dalek

Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror - Boredom

Fugitive of the Judoon - Fugitive Doctor and Judoon

Praxeus - Boring mould

Can You Hear Me? - Nightmares

Ascension of the Cybermen - Irish boy is the Doctor

Revolution of the Daleks - Captain Jack!

The Flux - Boring aside from Dan

The three specials - Timeloop, Sea Devils and regeneration

[radiokathryn-if]

Hola amigo (amiga). It’s me again. I’m in class, slaving away my life and with my newfound brain juices, I decided to spend it on something worthwhile like expanding your own brain juices.

The ROs decided to play Monopoly (because that’s where brain power works more effectively). Who loves it, who hates it, how do they play, and who ultimately wins against one another? Also, have a good day (or night depending on when this is.)

Hello friend! Just for you and your slaving brain power, I shall gift you with a little bonus!──long answer! +I just finished cooking(&eating) supper so it has indeed been a good night lmao, I hope you have one too! ++I may have way too much fun trivia about monopoly just rattling around in my head, so I apologise if I start rambling! +++also! I'm acting as if they're all playing together... which would never happen but is still fun to think about!

Which little mascot token thing do they choose/get/fight for/end up with?──in 1972 there was only: the shoe, the hat, the dog, the iron, the car and the boat... so I've added more such as the thimble, the lantern (retired in 1950) and the rocking horse (retired 1950)

NATE──is picky and also very narcissistic, he has to pick first and he always gets the dog (a yorkshire terrier!) because it's "objectively the best one" no one really objects because they don't want to deal with his whining.

EVA──she always gets the lantern. when she's not at the table to claim it first, it's gets set aside for her. unlike with Nate, everyone else lets her have it because she simply asks nicely. Eva just thinks it's pretty─she calls it her good luck charm! (she has a nice winning streak!)

MICA──does not care for their token at all, and is usually the last to gain it, often getting the one no one went for or wanted... which mostly ends up being the iron... Mica thinks it's rad though so they don't mind!

DETECTIVE HAN──doesn't really play board games and is subsequently a bit slow to the battle royale of the token picking... they end up with the shoe because it's only of the only two left and they'd rather not pick the iron...

JOSÉ──they're not going down without a fight! they are pretty competitive, especially when it comes to board or card games─curtesy of their many siblings─and they will bargain for the token of their choosing... which is the the thimble... but they usually lose out to Ji Han, in which they fight Fauve for the boat!

JI HAN──he wins the thimble from José but he only goes for the thimble if the the plane is gone and considering its the one token lost to the void, well...

FAUVE──she watches José and Ji Han fight it out for the thimble with glee and then when José sets their sights on her and the boat its quickly wiped away... she knows when to take her losses and resigns the boat to them after she can feel a ten minute debate forming, leaving her with the car!

JACKSON──used to picking last when playing board games, though most times Cilly just gives him a token she seems fit... he'd end up with the hat (a top hat!) because even though he doesn't particularly care, he's still quicker than Mica or Detective Han to scoop up one of his favourites!

???──they like most of the tokens and are usually the first to pick, in actuality, they're the one who set aside the lantern for Eva and make the dog easy to see for Nate to claim 'first' after which they swoop in and collect the rocking horse! much like Eva, the token is a bit of a good luck charm for them─the only time they've ever gone bankrupt was when they were playing with the boat instead!

actual game play! who loves it, who hates it, who's winner and who's a sore sore loser baby?

Nate says he likes monopoly but he is quick to change his mind as soon as he loses his money... honestly, if he didn't fixate on the money side of things and strategise like i know he can he'd probably give Eva, ??? and Ji Han a run for their money! (sore sore loser, losing loser baby, sore loser baby)

Like most things outside of her personal life, Eva stays winning. She loves strategy games and she's very good at interpersonal tactics (and she doesn't get greedy or blind sided by fake money.) She's on a winning streak... but there are a couple that give her a run for her money! (somehow she always manages to get one or both dark blue's on her first circle of the board...)

The ever unbothered Mica could honestly care less about monopoly──that is to say that they get surprisingly intense around two thirds in! Something about monopoly specifically ignites the competitive fire under them. They're strangely protective of the train stations and the utilities. They always somehow end up going bankrupt though, and sell out to Eva or Ji Han (or ???) depending on who can give them the most appealing sales pitch... Mica just likes hearing what they'll come up with!

Detective Han is a baby at playing board games... that aren't chess or checkers that is. The first time they play they're too caught up in the rules to realise all the spaces are slowly being taken up. The next time they buy every space they land on and were the first to go bankrupt so quickly in a while! They're a bit of a rules lawyer but have since mellowed out to enjoying the game without getting worked up about losing.

José is competitive and they love a classic board game. Playing with their siblings, they're known to be one of the winners more often than not... playing with the other ROs? That's a whole different ball park─a whole different weight category! Especially with brilliant players like Eva, Ji Han and ??? (when they're in the mood to win)! José can admit when they're out of their depth but that doesn't mean they aren't going to go down without a fight. They're the most... involved player, often propositioning places or money with literally anyone if they can see it coming out advantageous for them. (Not many of their propositions are accepted, though some are for the sheer audacity and the entertainment value they bring!)

As opposed to his older sibling, Ji Han is actully quite well versed in the ways of the game... Given that he's only played it while half drunk in university halls at 3 in the morning while they wait out for a 5am lecture... playing it with the rest of the ROs is only a little different. (that and he plays with a clear mind and thus remembers the rules and can get into the manipulation tactics!) He's won almost as many times as Eva has, and it's usually the two of them as the final two! He's a gracious loser, even if he's a bit of a show off winner (that's mainly spurned on by Eva's taunting and the final overcoming of her as an opponent.)

Fauve has a competitive streak in her, but it's mainly for bragging rights. She actively tries hard to beat at the very least José and then sets her sights on Ji Han. (The sexual tension between them when she does is quite, palpable... if the teasing barbs and lingering looks are anything to go by) She has yet to win over Eva though and is hedging her bets on a team up with The Trio as a means to an end. (She loves the bragging rights... is winning bragging rights over Eva in monopoly of all things super important? Yes. She already reigns supreme in Uno, this is the next step in her bragging rights empire!! She's up for the challenge!)

Jackson is an easygoing run of the mill average player. He's used to going easy at these kinds of games since most of his experience playing them is with his daughter and her friends... That being said, Jackson is an excellent banker! He's very strict about the money, especially after they found out that Nate was sneaking money when he would designate himself as banker! He bankrupts quite early, but his heart nor his pride is hurt by it, he takes losing like a winner!

Secret mastermind, ???. They're actively the best at playing the game however, they don't have the competitive flare or heart to actively secure more than third place. However, when ??? is in a competitive mood, or a mischievous mood (or just wanting to impress a certain MC or Eva) then all the cards are down and all the bets are off!

bonus round! common team ups!

Eva and ??? are unstoppable when they're both playing together and playing to win! Not that a team up trio of Ji Han, Fauve and José won't give them a run for their money. Nate refuses to team up with any of them, not like they're dropping everything to offer. Mica is a lone island of overconfidence and chilled cockyness... (MC over their shoulder like an angel(or devil) during a poker game...) In a shocking turn of events, Detective Han and Jackson team up as Rules Lawyer and Banker after they declare bankruptcy and are kind of terrorfying to defy... which leads to people trying to loophole their way through the game and providing many moments of laughter inducing entertainment!

lmao i started this at like 8pm... it's taken me like 8 hours to finish and if that doesn't tell you what my mental states been like then idk what will

[aneurinallday]

Green Eyes

Chapter 25: Decorative

Once Charlie had departed from Arrow House, the mood brightened. Alec was palpably more relaxed - he smiled more, spoke louder, and lived his life with more gusto. He played the piano and sang without a care in the world, and fell into Thomas’s bed with renewed vigour. He would never say a word against the family, but Thomas could tell that he was relieved - sorry at how things had ended, but relieved.

It impressed upon Thomas how much their world had changed in the past three years without either of them even noticing. Once upon a time, Alec Cobb had been an interloper in Arrow House, out-of-place amid all the trappings of wealth and authority. It had seemed impossible for a Cobb’s Boy to ever be welcome among the Shelbys. But now Arrow House was his home and Charles Shelby was the unwelcome stranger, disturbing the peaceful idyll with his intrusion.

It was a cold realisation that left Thomas feeling unsettled. Nothing and no-one was supposed to come between the Shelbys, and he’d always been swift to punish disloyalty among the ranks. Yet here he was, siding with his adopted family instead of his own kin. Every night he tucked someone else’s daughter into bed and kissed her goodnight, while his own son - the son whom Grace had blessed him with - went to sleep hating him.

One family had blossomed while another had deteriorated, and Thomas couldn’t help but feel like he’d sat by and let it happen, too busy enjoying himself to care about the consequences. He loved Clara like his own child, and he loved Alec despite all the strife they’d been through; but he hated the power which that love exerted over him.

On an evening when Thomas was sitting in the library, flipping through a volume of Greek philosophy, Alec entered and lounged beside him in a state of casual disarray. He’d refrained from wearing dresses or make-up or anything other than conventional while Charlie was around, but now he’d regained his sense of style, along with his confidence.

“Mister Shelby?” he said as he draped himself across the chaise longue.

“Mhm?”

“I was reading the newspaper the other day, and there was an article about this new building they unveiled in Paris - they call the style ‘Arts décoratifs’. And it got me thinking, maybe we should go there.”

“To Paris?”

“Yes!” Alec said excitedly, “I was thinking we could take Clara and spend a few days there. Walk around the city, eat the food. See the cathedral and the tower and that museum - oh, what’s it called…?” He waved his hands, groping for the word.

“The Louvre.”

“Yes! They have paintings there, you know.”

“I know…”

“I’d like to see them.”

“What do you care about paintings?”

“Well…” Alec frowned slightly, “It’s not the actual paintings, it’s the…it’s the idea of paintings. The Louvre is where all the clever and rich and important people go, so…so I can go too, can’t I?”

“You want to be cultured, is that it?”

“No - yes. I suppose so? And I want to go to a café, too.”

“You’ve been to plenty of cafés.”

“I mean a proper French one! You know, with all the tiny pâtisseries. Anyway, what do you think? Would it make a nice weekend?”

“Why France, though?” Thomas said half-jokingly. “We could go somewhere quiet in England. A little Cornish village that nobody’s ever heard of, or a cottage out on the Yorkshire moors. Then it’ll be just us. No crowds, no noise, nobody to bother us. We could even - ”

“Mister Shelby, I’m not fucking you outdoors, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I don’t care if nobody sees us except sheep, I’m not doing it.”

“That was…not my suggestion. But it would be nice to sit somewhere quiet, and listen to the birds, and feel the grass...”

“I suppose we could do that. But only after we’ve done Paris. So, when can we go?”

Thomas closed his book, setting it aside.

“Not yet,” he said, “I’ve got a lot of work on. Business is…difficult at the moment. I’m needed here.”

“That’s alright. It doesn’t have to be this month. We could go next month.”

“I’ll still be busy then.”

“Well, how about - ”

“Alec,” Thomas interrupted, “I can’t just fuck off when people are depending on me. I’ve got a lot of businesses to run, without which, we wouldn’t have this big house or all these nice things that you love so much. You understand that, yeah?”

“There’s no need to be short with me. Come on, please! I’ve never been abroad before. And Paris looked so grand in the photographs. I still have the newspaper somewhere, I’ll show you - ”

“I’ve given you an answer. Why keep asking?”

The excitement disappeared, and Alec’s face darkened. He leaned back against the upholstery.

“Don’t give me that look,” Thomas said.

“What look?”

“The fucking sad look you always give me when you don’t get your way. It doesn’t work, you know.”

“I’m not doing anything! You’re seeing what you want to see. This happens every fucking time. Whenever you get angry, you start seeing the worst in me..”

“I’m not angry. But you’re being unreasonable. Besides, the last time I went to France, I didn’t particularly like it.”

“Three years,” Alec snapped, “Three years and the furthest you’ve taken me is shopping in London. And you know what I realised? I realised you only take me to London when you have business down there. You never make a trip just for me.”

“And?” Thomas said, “Why pay twice for train tickets when you can pay once? Is it wrong to be economical?”

“We’re never been on holiday together. You’re always too busy.”

“I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t need to know. We’ll go on holiday at some point, eh? Just not yet.”

“Tell me what’s so important that you can’t take a weekend off. Is business going that badly?”

“Business is never bad. It’s just…tricky.”

“Then maybe you need to run things better.”

“Alec…”

“I thought you were the king of Birmingham. The king of Birmingham doesn’t know how to delegate?”

“Alec,” Thomas’s voice was cold now. “I don’t mind you teasing me. I don’t mind you giving me the cold shoulder. I don’t even mind you rolling your eyes when you think I’m not looking. But don’t insult me.”

“Or what, Mister Shelby? What’ll you do? Throw me out again? Me and Clara?”

“Do you understand what I’ve told you?”

“Yes. I understand that your priority is your work, not your family.”

“Family?” Thomas said sharply.

Alec fell silent.

“Look, if it makes you happy, I’ll write ‘Paris’ in my diary in big fat fucking letters so I don’t forget. Will that make you feel better?”

“I just want to spend more time with you, that’s all,” Alec muttered.

“Oh, is that it? Well, in that case, you should be happy staying home, shouldn’t you? If my companionship is all that matters, then it shouldn’t matter whether we’re in France or in fucking Warwickshire, should it?”

“That - that’s not what I meant. I want us to do more things together, and go more places…”

“And we will. But I can’t just drop everything when you want me to.”

Subconsciously or not, Alec leaned away from him on the chaise longue, folding his arms to remove any risk of accidental touch.

“You could at least pretend to be sorry.”

“Alright. I’m sorry,” Thomas sighed, “I’m sorry I’m not the romantic you want me to be. I’m sorry I’m a businessman and a miserable bastard. But you already knew who I was when you hitched your wagon to me. Why you expected me to change, I have no fucking idea.”

“Maybe I thought - ” Alec hesitated, then ploughed on recklessly. “Maybe I thought I’d be the special one. The one who could heal you. The one who could make you laugh. But clearly I can’t - nobody can.”

“You’re right about that.”

“You’re beyond help! I don’t know why I even bother trying to please you.”

“You’ve been trying to please me?” Thomas scoffed, “You could’ve fooled me.”

“Never mind,” Alec snapped as he rose and walked out of the library - done exchanging verbal swings. “I don’t want to go to Paris anymore.”

“Well, that problem’s sorted itself out, then,” Thomas said to his disappearing back.

No answer came, and he listened to Alec’s footsteps fading down the corridor, leaving him alone with his Greek philosophers.

Alec was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the evening. Thomas drank whiskey alone in front of the fireplace, half-expecting - or perhaps half-hoping - that the door would open and Alec would come creeping in to apologise, like he would have in the early days. But it wasn’t the early days any more, and the door stayed coldly shut.

As Thomas ascended the stairs and crossed the dark landing to bed, he saw the light under the door of the guest room, and knew he would be sleeping alone that night.

Sleep evaded him, and he stood at the window, gazing out across the darkened gardens, the moonlit hedgerows - the same gravel driveway which Alec had been forced to walk down three years ago, half-clothed and in tears, after being banished from the only place he’d ever felt happy.

Despite all the declarations of love and promises of devotion they’d made since then, it was a trauma which Alec still hadn’t recovered from, and probably never would. Thomas had proven that he was capable of cruelty, and it was a lesson that couldn’t be unlearned. If he could abandon Alec and Clara once, there was no guarantee that he couldn’t again.

Thomas was startled out of his musings by the sound of the door creaking open.

“Daddy?” Clara whispered, peeping inside.

“What is it, darling?”

“Daddy, I’m awake.”

“Can’t you sleep?”

“No.”

“Come here, then.” He reached down, and she clambered into his embrace.

“What are you looking at, Daddy?”

“Nothing. Just the moon.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s pretty. Listen, how would you like to go on holiday?”

“Holiday? Like when we go on the train?”

“That’s right. But this time, when we get off the train, we’re going to get on a big boat, and the big boat is going to take us across the sea to France. What do you think of that, eh? Does it sound like an adventure?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like boats.”

“Me neither. But we’d only be on it for a couple of hours. It’s a very small sea.”

“What’s in France?”

“Lots of things. Big buildings and cakes and chocolate éclairs. Your Daddy’s been wanting to go. I was thinking we could buy the tickets and surprise him, like how we surprise you sometimes.”

“Then I want to go too!”

“Alright. But we’ll keep it a secret until then. Otherwise it won’t be a surprise. Swear?”

“I swear.”

“Good girl.”

Turning away from the window, Thomas lay down on the bed. He nestled his daughter safely in his arms, and closed his eyes - only to open them again a moment later.

“Did you and Daddy have a fight?” Clara asked, “Is that why you need the surprise?”

“What? We don’t fight.”

“Yes you do. You fight all the time. Isn’t that why Daddy’s sleeping in the other room?”

“Well...Sometimes we like to sleep in different beds. That doesn’t mean we’ve had a fight.”

“It does! Don’t lie. When you fight, he goes to the other room and cries.”

“How do you know?”

“I know because I hear. He shuts the door so I can’t see, but I’m clever.”

“Oh.” Troubled, Thomas held her closer. “I’m sorry, darling. Does he do that a lot?”

“Yes. Sometimes, he asks me if I want to go and live somewhere else. But I say no. I don’t want to go somewhere if you’re not there.”

Thomas kissed her forehead, and lay staring at the darkness. Every shred of sleep had fled, and his mind was whirling in frantic circles.

He thought of all the mornings he’d sat silent at the breakfast table, indifferent to Alec’s attempts at small-talk. All the afternoons he’d shut himself in his office, among his papers and books, while Alec had gone out horse-riding by himself. All the nights he’d rebuffed Alec’s advances because he was too busy thinking about Grace.

He thought of all those countless little rejections - each one a tiny chisel, slowly chipping away at Alec’s confidence - and how they must’ve felt to a young man who was already plagued by fears of abandonment. And all those moments had been for what? For loyalty to a dead wife? For spite? For an unconscious desire to keep Alec in his place?

“Clara?”

“Yes?”

“I promise your Daddy and I will never fight again. I promise I’ll be nice to him every day, so he won’t cry anymore.”

“Good. I don’t like it when he cries.”

“Neither do I.”

Thomas felt something he wasn’t accustomed to - a tightening in his face and a telltale stinging in his eyes. He resisted the urge to slap himself, and pursed his lips tightly until the feeling went away.

Thomas Shelby hadn’t cried in fucking years. He wasn’t about to start now.

“Frances, have you seen Alec?” Thomas strode through the second-floor gallery on a sunny Saturday, a few days after the argument.

“He’s downstairs, Mister Shelby,” answered the housekeeper, “I think he’s heading out.”

“Thank you.”

With the ferry tickets in his pocket and an uncharacteristic energy in his step, Thomas descended the stairs. He was greeted by the sight of Alec standing in the entrance hall, dressed for the outdoors, busy putting on his gloves.

“Morning,” Thomas said.

Alec glanced up before looking away. He didn’t smile. For the last few nights, they’d been dining at separate times and sleeping in separate beds, and Alec’s frosty demeanour showed no sign of thawing.

“Got a moment?” Thomas asked, “There’s something I wanted to - ”

“I can’t talk right now,” Alec interrupted, “I’m going into Birmingham for a job interview.”

Thomas slowed to a standstill, and they regarded each other with uncertainty - him waiting for an explanation, Alec waiting for a reprimand.

“You don’t need a job,” Thomas finally said. “I look after you.”

“Well, I want one. Every time I start to get too comfortable, you remind me that I can’t depend on anyone. Besides, I want to set a good example for Clara. I don’t want her to grow up thinking she needs to find a benefactor. Not like her stupid father who can’t get by without a rich man’s charity.”

“It’s not charity, Alec. It’s love.”

“Is it?”

“What else would it be?”

Thomas reached for Alec’s hand, but the young man pulled away with a bitter laugh.

“Even after all this time, there’s still part of you that’s ashamed of me. You say I’m your family, but deep down, you still think of me as that whore from the Arcadia.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

Flustered, Alec pulled out a small pocket mirror, flipped it open, and checked his face. He attempted to smooth out his expression, but was unable to hide his anger.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he snapped the mirror shut, “What respectable business would hire Alec Cobb? An illegitimate brat, born on the floor in the back of a dirty brothel? A low-end prostitute who never went to school, and whose only skill is persuading drunk men to spend more money on fucking him? What kind of job can he get that doesn’t involve getting on his knees?”

“That’s not how I think about you.”

“Then how? As your pet? As your property? As decoration? Just like all the other shiny, pretty things in this house? Because you certainly don’t think of me as a partner.”

“Well, since you seem able to read my mind, you should already know the answers to your questions. Here’s a question of my own: how are you getting into Birmingham?”

“By car.”

“And who’s driving?”

“The chauffeur. Who else?” said Alec, confused.

“So, a member of my staff? A man whose wages come out of my pocket? You spend my money while saying you don’t want it.”

Alec’s face flushed. He abruptly turned and headed for the door.

“I need to go,” he said.

“What happens if I tell the chauffeur not to drive you? What then?”

“Then you’ll have proven me right,” Alec snapped. “You’re awful, Mister Shelby.”

Without saying goodbye, he disappeared, leaving the door open behind him so that Thomas was forced to close it.

Barely a moment passed before Thomas heard the familiar sound of Clara pattering down the stairs.

“Daddy?” she was calling.

“I’m here,” he answered, wincing at how curt it sounded as it left his mouth.

“Not you, Daddy,” she laughed as she reached the foot of the stairs. “I’m looking for my daddy - my first one!”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Is he gone already? I saw the car. I wanted to say bye.”

“Did you know he was going out?”

“Uhuh. He said he’s going to work,” she said innocently, “He’s going to work like he used to when I was small.”

“Do you remember being small?”

“No.”

“Good. Things weren’t very nice back then. But now, everything’s nice.” Thomas scooped her up. “I have an idea. Shall we put our boots on?”

For the child’s sake, he pretended that nothing was amiss. He took her out to the stables, and let her sit on the horses and braid their manes, though he gently refused her pleas to go out riding in the fields. She was still too small, and he knew that if she fell from the saddle while in his care, Alec would never forgive him.

“Did you tell Daddy about the surprise yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, darling. I didn’t get a chance to. But I’ll tell him soon, alright?”

“Tonight?”

“No, not tonight. But soon.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed, but then Monaghan Boy flicked his black hair and she giggled, happy again.

He played with her for a while longer, then took her on a walk around the fields to name all the different flowers and grasses and trees, before they headed back to the house for lunch. Holding her little hand as they walked, Thomas’s thoughts remained with Alec - wondering what he was doing and feeling at that moment. They’d spent the last three years repairing their lost trust, building up Alec’s self-esteem, piecing together a happy life - and now they were unravelling again. Was their love so weak that it threatened to crumble at every obstacle?

His brooding was interrupted by one of the maids greeting them in the hallway.

“Mister Shelby!” she said, “Mister Shelby, there’s a telephone call for you. It’s from Shelby Company Limited.”

“Thanks, Ruth, I’ll take it in my study. Clara, go with Ruth and wash your hands before lunch.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As Thomas headed to the library, he realised he still had the tickets in his pocket. He pulled them out and considered them for a moment, weighing whether he could salvage this relationship before they expired. He almost threw them in the nearest fireplace, but thought better of it, and stashed them in the bottom of his desk drawer instead. Out of sight, out of mind.

He sank into his leather chair with a sigh, and sat for a moment, gazing at the rows of bookshelves stretching up to the ceiling. It was peaceful here. No Alec, no family, no fucking fighting. Just a comfy chair and enough books to last a lifetime. Then he looked down at the piles of papers in the desk in front of him, and remembered that the work never stopped.

Picking up the phone, he dialled the Shelby offices’ number and waited. After a few seconds, he heard the handset on the other end being snatched up, and John’s voice came crackling down the wire.

“Tom, finally!”

“You called,” Thomas said, more a statement than a question. “What do you want?”

“Bragg’s in hospital. He got shot.”

“What?”

“Bragg’s in fucking hospital. He got shot at one of his properties. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

“Fuck.” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose hard, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again, trying to focus his thoughts. “When?”

“No idea. I only just heard.”

“Do we know who did it?”

“Not yet. Seems like they don’t know, either.”

“For Christ’s sake.” Thomas rubbed his face. “Alright. This isn’t something we want to get involved in. We’ll wait and see if he gives up the ghost or not. If he does, we’ll get a feel for the new man in charge before deciding if we want to continue our partnership or not.”

“Understood. I swear to God, Tom, we can’t have a moment’s fucking stability in this shit-hole.”

“I know. But we’ll prosper. We always do.”

Thomas was about to hang up, but then he remembered.

“Fuck! John, listen. Alec went into the city this morning and he’s not back yet. I don’t want him getting caught up in this. If Bragg’s Boys think we had something to do with his shooting, and then they see my lover walking around…he’ll have a target on his back. Do me a favour and make sure he gets home safe, alright?”

“Sure.”

“I mean it. If anything happens to him…”

“Relax, Tom,” John sighed, “I care about him too. I’ll send men to keep an eye on him. He’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Tell them to keep a distance and don’t cause him any alarm. We’re going through a rough patch, and if he finds out I had him followed…that’s the last thing I need.”

“We’ll be discreet, don’t worry.”

Somewhere in the distance, Thomas heard a bell chime.

“Johnny, I need to go. Anything happens, ring me.”

Thomas hung up, and only then realised his heart was pounding.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Looking back the basis of the premise of the all out unprovoked 'terrorist mentality' style attack on the royal family was psychopathic and insanely stupid and fraudulent by u/ElectricalAd9212

Looking back, the basis of the premise of the all out unprovoked 'terrorist mentality' style attack on the royal family was psychopathic and insanely stupid and fraudulent Today, Prince William travelled up to Leeds to present the CBE to Rob Burrow and his best friend Kevin Sinfield. Rob is a former Rugby player who has Motor Neurone Disease and he and Kevin have raised millions for research into the illness and to help those with the disease. Rob is paralysed and Kevin carried him in his arms over the finishing line of the London marathon. Prince William presented it in Yorkshire in person.Today, it was also revealed that one of the innocent postmasters wrongly accused of theft in what is emerging as the greatest miscarriage of justice in modern British history, the Post Office scandal, was a guest at Catherine and William's wedding, because he was the local postmaster of her family village. He revealed that she had stood beside him because she knew he was innocent. Despite corruption and the evil failure of the system, the future Queen is the noble protector of the British people in the face of our political and judicial failings.These are just two snapshots on one day of what the Monarchy represents, and how William and Catherine are fulfilling their duties as our future King and Queen.Meanwhile, as time has passed, as things become clear to all but the most stupid, prejudiced, insane and blind (ie: everyone except Markle and Harry's online cult of idiots), Markle's 'strategy' was utterly insane, and could only 'succeed' through a deliberately stoked storm of noise, venom, hate, distraction, abuse, hysteria and victimhood, which is what she did achieve for a while. It was the mentality of an unprovoked terrorist attackShe engaged in the largest example of fake PR lying, spending probably millions, to create a 'narrative' that she was persecuted and discriminated against by an oppressive institution, and placing a target on the head of William and Catherine in particular.And she expected America in particular, but elsewhere too, to take her side against them, so that she could bring the monarchy to its knees and bow down to her, and monetise and commercialise herself in America, Hollywood, and liberal political and NGO circles, to become rich as some kind of saint figure fighting against injustice, whilst flying in private jets and living a billionaire mean girl lifestyle.But she ran of time, and she ran out of money, and she ran out of excuses. The lies never stopped, and she was only winning for as long as the explosion she created, against good people, could be maintained by fear. Fear of the mob she controlled online, fear of being accused of 'racism'. Time defeated her. Her New York hoax was the pathetic attempt of a psychopath to bend truth to her psychosis.Its really simple.Markle and Harry have only succeeded in making the monarchy, and William and Catherine in particular, appear more noble, more decent, more compassionate, more vital, more precious in a world of the cynical, the predators, the liars, the cruel, the malevolent.At the end of the day, its a message that is good for our time. Just like the post office scandal has shown that justice eventually can prevail. The exposure of Markle and her morally evil schemes and the continuing elevation of William, Catherine and our monarchy shows goodness does prevail over dark hearted evil and cruelty. post link: https://ift.tt/Zdh3zYo author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: January 11, 2024 at 07:57PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[antifainternational]

February 18, Rotherham - Counter-demo Yorkshire Against Hate

[heatherfield]

Heather I am such a matilda -> Matty supporter but I just saw someone mention how matilda -> tilly is possible and thats so cute that I could cry. I def think Matty is more fitting but I'm thinking about her as a young child being called tilly 🥹🥹

AwwwwWWWW! First of all, THANK YOU for sharing your Matilda headcanons with me!! Not a surprise, but she is one of my favourites.

Secondly, I've thought about this too! Although full disclosure, I'm a bit biased against Tilly for Matilda because my coworker bestie's little Yorkshire terrier is named Tilly so I associate that name with her baby and it feels so opposite to Matilda.

BUT I can still see it! Like, I think she has a special relationship with her dad so I've thought that maybe he is the only one that uses that nickname for her and it's something special between them. But she hates if anyone else uses that name.

She does like when Brom calls her Matty, though. But maybe Brom is the only one that can call her that, and maybe Kat?

(I've also written Brom and Matilda having a conversation about nicknames when they start dating to get to know each other more.)

I do love the idea of Matilda being a secret softie, though, or having secret childhood nicknames. ❤️❤️❤️ I feel like she generally wouldn't like nicknames but certain people can get away with certain nicknames and she won't glare at them.

[haggishlyhagging]

I have been writing about male violence for decades. I first addressed it in my book Misogynies, published in 1989 and still in print, which was inspired (if that's the right word) by my experience of covering the ‘Yorkshire Ripper’ murders as a young reporter. Vastly outnumbered by male detectives and crime reporters, I was shocked to the core by the casual sexism I encountered. While the men laughed and joked with each other at press conferences, I thought I could easily become the next victim of a killer who so obviously hated women. While they behaved as though they were looking for a monster, something between a pantomime villain and Jack the Ripper, I thought they couldn't find him because he wasn't that different - on the surface, at least - from other men who thought some of the victims 'deserved' what had happened to them. Sometimes I couldn't believe what I was hearing, such as the senior member of the Ripper squad who casually observed that the killer had begun to target ‘innocent girls’ instead of prostitutes, demonstrating that he was now - though not, presumably, before - in urgent need of medical attention. Peter Sutcliffe, a lorry driver from Bradford whom none of us would have looked twice at if we passed him on the street, was eventually convicted of murdering thirteen women and trying to kill another seven, although the final toll of victims was almost certainly higher.

In a precursor to the arguments I'm making in this book, I pointed out in Misogynies that Sutcliffe had grown up with extreme domestic violence, terrorised (along with his mother) by his violent, drunken father. The term ‘ACEs’, which I've used several times in these pages, hadn't been invented in the 1970s and while Sutcliffe's experience would no doubt score pretty high, nothing that happened to him as a child goes anywhere near excusing his terrible violence. What my experience of reporting the murders did do was open my eyes to a vein of misogyny I'd been aware of in literary and popular culture, without ever realising how deep and dangerous it was. The casual way crime reporters and cops talked about some of the victims made me think about something I hadn't previously put into words, which was the normalisation of male violence. Evidently some of it didn't count, if it was against the ‘wrong’ sort of woman, and there were lots of those: poor women who sold sex for a living, 'nagging' wives or young women who changed their minds about having sex at the last moment. I mean, you can't really call that rape, can you?

-Joan Smith, Home Grown: How Domestic Violence Turns Men Into Terrorists

[variousqueerthings]

Into the canal with the rejects

it's! The Crimson Horror! they're in Yorkshire in Victorian Times

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 4/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 4/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 6/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 5/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 5/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 7/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 6/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 4/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 6/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 5/10

FULL RATING: 52/100 (if I can count….)

ohhh this episode. OOOhhhohohooo this episode. it COULD have just been a fun little romp that was a bit silly, but ooh nonono. it had to do a THING. infamous THING!

OBJECTIFICATION: this is the episode that includes one of the most infamous fucking bits of sexism in the show

this being the Doctor grabbing Jenny, a lesbian, and kissing her without her consent (then when she slaps him, he says "you have no idea how good that felt") OH BOY

this episode also includes another between-the-legs shot of Jenny, and the Doctor reacting by his screwdriver pointing upwards (get it, like he's got a hard-on *fucking siiiiiiiiiighs*)

it's actually not more than this on the whole, but my goodness! bad and bad, this episode was written by Mark Gatiss, why did he think that was a good idea?

PLOT-POINT: Clara is mostly there to be captured and saved and then the others are like *gasp* it's Clara, who should be dead and the Doctor tells them nuh-uh-uh she's a different Clara. I'm not sooo much against this, considering there are quite a lot of female characters in this episode, including Jenny and Vastra, who lead a lot of the action part, and Ada and her mother, who lead the other action and the emotional stuff, including one great scene of Ada discovering her mother experimented on her and going Absolutely Ham, whacking her with her cane and screaming that she'll never forgive her

COMPLEXITY: it's kind of an over-complicated plot for what it is, but I don't hate it technically. it's a bit silly, but Doctor Who can be a bit silly

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: sooo we get more Vastra, Jenny, and Strax which will matter for later in the season (in that the Doctor cares for them)

and at the end of the episode Clara finally has a little moment of wondering if something isn't going on, because the two precocious kids she cares for have discovered pictures of her from all over the past! but there's one she doesn't recognise, from Victorian London! who is that??? we wonder...

COMPANIONS MATTER: ehhh Clara doesn't do much, although she does get to smash a rocket control thing with a chair, good for her, but Jenny in particular does, and so does Vastra to an extent, and also Ada

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the Doctor also doesn't do so much, he also gets captured and then saved by Jenny, and then Jenny and Vastra save the earth, and Ada finishes off her mum

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: uhhh not that I noticed, but it's not really an episode for Stuff

“SEXINESS”: THE AFOREMENTIONED KISSING SHIT! AND THE LEGS SHOT! AND THE SCREWDRIVER SHIT! listen, should this one bit of sequence judge the entire rest of the episode? maybe not but fuck iiiiiit

INTERNAL WORLD: it's not... reaaaally entirely... sensical. it's Doctor Who sensical, so it's fine, but this little town of perfect people encased in glass, it's yeah. it's fine

POLITICS: technically I feel like this episode ought to be political, considering it's set in Victorian Yorkshire (did it say where in Yorkshire, I'm trying to remember. me being lazy for a second and not just checking) and its themes of "purity" and luring desperate poor people in... but it's kind of not really important in the end

we do get some great female characters on the whole, but yeah. feels like a missed opportunity

FULL RATING: 52/100 (if I can count….)

this episode is not on the whole super offensive, it's mainly That Fucking Scene! it's mostly just a There episode. However I think it's elevated by genuinely quite fun female characters on both the good people and the villainous side

[charmantevamp]

Audrey’s “attachments” as dogs...

Inspired by this post.

For any of this to make sense you must understand that Audrey and their admin are dog owners and lovers and Audrey is 100% Marie from Aristocats.

1. Claude (oc) - first husband, emotionally abusive, “put down” out of mercy due to old age. - Anatolian Shepherd Dog - imposing and rugged capable of tearing apart coyotes, relatively understated.

2. Désiré (oc) - second husband and second cousin, all forms of abusive, strangled with his own rope. - bull dog - known for their violence and outward “ugliness” I actually like bull dogs just fine, I wouldn’t want to own one. Known to be possessive and violent, capable of brutality don’t live terribly long.

3. Gustave (oc) - third husband, emotionally abusive, more subtle in the physical abuse. Artist, court royalty, aspiring for higher things and a wife. Audrey’s sole love marriage. - Persian mastiff - pretty, known hunting dog, knows what they want and how to get it.

4. Désirée (oc) - sapphic lover at French court - Bichon Frisé - French and relatively harmless, wouldn’t hurt a fly.

5. Maximilian (oc) - a bastard (derogatory) and Audrey’s sire. - Cavalier King Charles Spaniel - a bastard dog, not supposed to happen or occur. They were a “mistake” so to speak. - historically upper class auburn haired lap dogs they’ve been to war and survived what’s more, can tear you up.

6. Lucas (oc)/Lestat de Lioncourt - childhood sweetheart - an actor turned vampire against his will, titled but broke, downright scary sometimes. - golden wolf/golden mastiff.

7. Benjamin Fisher (oc)/Benjamin Tallmadge - Beagle (Tallmadge) and Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever (Fisher). - Clever, generally “good” and “calm” but if they hate you they can and will track you down and destroy you.

8. Anne Lister - Yorkshire Terrier - technically a “toy” dog - capable of being fierce despite stature, playful, high energy, and usually amiable.

9. Ferid & Blake (ocs) - doberman - dark, downright scary sometimes - loyal to no end if you indulge them.

10. Not a dog but reminder Audrey is 100% Marie from Aristocats.

Tagging: @honorhearted @gentlejack @the-brat-prince-1760 & @lvsteternal. 💖