#blocks of flats insurance

[drabblesandimagines]

Swingin'

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship, absolutely fluffy nonsense once again

“Stand here for me, ma’am.”

You giggle at the odd term of address as familiar hands maneuverer you forward into position by your hips, the owner of said hands stepping back in front of you when they seemed happy with your positioning.

“Now, put your left index finger on your nose.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t seriously be making your girlfriend take a field impairment test.”

Leon crosses his arms, trademark smirk on his lips. “Oh, I’m serious, sweetheart. Left index finger – go.”

You swallow down a hiccup as you follow his order, finding your nose with ease and smile, triumphantly.

“Now with your right.”

That one doesn’t go as smooth, your finger sliding down the side and prodding yourself in the cheek before you reposition, finding it at last. “Oops.”

“Arms straight down by your sides.” You comply at once, straightening your posture as you do. “Place your left foot directly in front of your right, heel touching toes.”

That one is a little more tricky to follow, you admit, but you think you’ve nailed it after a little bit of shuffling, though your boyfriend doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“Walk forward – heel to toe every step and count aloud.”

“Heel to toe…” You mutter, looking down at your feet. “One.” You swing your right leg round a bit too dramatically and your foot lands too far in front of your left but you persevere.

“Two.” Another big step forward has you throwing your arms out for balance.

“Arms straight down by your sides, sweetpea.” Leon chides.

You huff, dropping them back down and scoot your foot backward, before stepping forward with the other. “Three…”

Unfortunately, you step too far off to the right, nearly losing your balance completely before Leon steadies you with a firm grip on your elbow.

“Yep, you are 100% not riding on the back.”

“But I promise to hold on real tight.” You press your face into his chest then, wrapping your arms around his waist in demonstration and giving a firm squeeze to show off your strength.

“Not a risk I’m willing to take.” Leon wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your crown. All it would take was for you to let go around a corner and…

He shudders, can’t even bear to imagine any further. Nope, not happening.

“I’m sorry.” Your words are muffled, feeling like an annoyance. “I really didn’t think I’d drank that much.”

And you hadn’t, it had only really hit you when you’d exited the bar into the fresh air to meet Leon on the sidewalk. He’d parked his bike a block or so away from the venue and that short, stumbled walk had set alarm bells ringing.

“I’m sure you didn’t, little lightweight that you are.” He teases. “Come on, it’s not too far a walk from here anyway – might help you sober up.”

You pull your head back and look up at him, brows furrowed. “What about your bike?”

He looks at it – his prized Ducati, security lock already in place from when he left it to walk towards the bar – and shrugs. “I can get it in the morning.”

“Uh-uh,” you step back, Leon loosening his arms as you do but still keeping you close. “You take the bike and I’ll walk home. Ooh, I could jog alongside!”

Leon smiles in amusement, but shakes his head. “Not happening.”

You look down at your feet, double-checking you were in fact wearing flats and not heels when Leon doesn’t take you seriously. He’s in his military-grade boots, as usual. You’re not sure how they can be comfortable to walk in, steel-capped toes, but he never seems to complain.

“Okay, how about you wheel it home as I walk?”

“Why are you so concerned about me leaving my bike?”

“Are you kidding me? You have the worst luck with it. If you leave it here, it’ll get stolen or hit by a truck, or… struck by lightning.”

“And my insurance covers all of those.” He turns you, gently, one arm snug around your waist and encourages you to take a step forward. “Come on, let’s get home.”

You wrap an arm tentatively around his waist in return and only make it a few steps before your insecurities arise. “Leon…”

“Mm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip in reassurance. “Why would I be? You had fun, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” You nod, thinking back over the evening. You’d met up with your friends to catch-up over some cocktails, a rare evening where you’d all happened to be free. “It was so nice seeing them all. Tabitha’s been through two boyfriends since the last time we managed it.”

“She still dating jerks?” He frowns, familiar with her tales of dating woe.

“Sadly. Are you sure there’s no suitable guys at your work?”

“Oh, I’m one of a kind, baby,” he chuckles. “Don’t wanna set her up for disappointment.”

“Maybe this one will be diff… Ooh, look!” You point just up ahead, your attention span apparently at an all-time low. “They finally finished the renovations!”

The playpark had been taped off for a while – the equipment old and outdated and more than a little bit dangerous. You pull away from him and race through the gate, making a beeline for the swings. Leon jogs behind you, stopping a few feet in front of the swing-set and places his hands on his hips as you plonk yourself down and kick your feet against the fresh tarmac.

“I don’t think you’re the demographic they’re looking for, sweetheart.”

“Says you.” You tease, the agent having a handful of more years on you. “When’s the last time you sat on a swing anyway?”

“I dunno, 30 years ago?”

“Long overdue.” You jerk your head at the swing besides you. “Bet I can swing higher than you can.”

He tilts his head and smiles. “I’m sure you can.”

“Leon, come on.” You pout, scuffing your soles on the tarmac again as you swing half-heartedly back and forth. “Please?”

How could he ever say no to that face?

He rolls his eyes and walks over to the swing, sitting down heavily as instructed, wrapping his fingers around the chains. “Happy?”

“Uh-uh, not until you swing, Kennedy.” You kick your feet against the ground in demonstration, picking up some height and speed as Leon follows suit.

You look at him and grin as the two of you begin to swing in sync, getting higher and higher. Leon’s smile only grows wider as the wind rushes through his hair.

It takes him back for a moment – back to before he knew what Umbrella and BOWs were. He still has his jokes, of course, but it had been a while since he’d allowed himself to be a little bit silly.

You just make it far too easy.

He scuffs his boots against the ground to slow down his movement and watches as you follow suit, tilting your head in concern.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hm. Come here,” he pats his lap and you jump off mid-swing, somehow managing to keep upright. Leon rolls his eyes and stops his swing completely as you step over and drop yourself sideways onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability.

“I can’t ride on the back of your bike, but I can sit on your lap whilst you swing, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” he lets go of the chain and cups your face. “I just wanted a kiss.”

He closes the gap then with a soft kiss, one full of utter adoration – not too firm, but one that makes your scalp tingle as his lips caress yours, over and over.

He pulls away to lean his forehead against yours.

“I love you, sweetheart. Thanks for keeping me young.”

You let go of his neck to pat his chest, chidingly. “Come on, you’re not that old. You were swinging pretty high.”

“Yeah, guess I was.” The cocky grin crosses his face then. “Higher than you, actually.”

“Uh-uh”, you shake your head, adamantly. “You just think that cos you’re a little bit taller.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

But he’s lost you, your attention fixed on something over his shoulder. “Ooh, they’ve got a new slide too!”

You make Leon try every piece of play equipment before finally heading home, but his smile never drops.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

[ghostsy]

Addiction

yandere ! SUKUNA x READER

WARNINGS: yandere, substance abuse, dub/noncon

A/N: honestly just needed to rid myself of the writer’s block lol, hope it’s alright ^^

read at your own discretion.

❈ ◦•≫────≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫────≪•◦ ❈

Thinking about dirtbag drug dealer Sukuna corrupting some uptight good girl, spiraling into the most toxic codependent bullshit, and becoming addicted to her.

He doesn’t think much of it at first, some pretty little overachiever come looking for a little leg up on the competition. He’s seen it all before. Just for one test, she’ll tell him. And he barks out a laugh, right in her face, shameless as he looks her up and down, smoke curling out from under his cheshire grin.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Just this once.”

The simpering look on his face will tell her he’s mocking her, but he knows her type; she’ll still take what he gives her. Sliding the adderall into perfectly manicured fingers, he’ll wave her off without so much as a second glance. He only laces a little insurance in with those pills because he could use the extra clientele, and not because something in those bright innocent eyes makes his chest and cock itch. 

She’ll come back; he knows she will. Tail between her legs, and hands just a bit too jittery when she begs for a little something more. Embarrassed as the words stumble out, shifting eyes darting anywhere but that condescending crimson. 

It all kind of spirals after that.

Once a month turns to once a week, and then it's barely a day or two goes by before she comes crawling back for another fix. The first time her pockets come up empty, he’s oh so kind enough to offer an alternative form of payment. She’s a bit hesitant, but that nervous, sunken eye look that’s come to live on her face, so pathetically sexy, is easily convinced.

He’ll shove her over the ratty old couch in his flat with a giddy amount of force, and bury himself between her thighs, fingers prying her pretty jaw open, letting the drool drip from her lips to her chin as he slips a tab on her glossy tongue. 

“Fuck yeah, open your mouth–open that fucking mouth–pussy gets tighter with a little X.”

It becomes a sort of animalistic routine, where the pitiful thing lets him use her and abuse her like a grade-A sex toy, any and every hole open and eager to take him. He’s almost embarrassed for her, how quickly she abandoned dignity for a moment of bliss. 

Though, he supposes, he gives her more than a moment. And it’s convenient for him, he thinks. A tight pussy and perky ass wrapped around his fingers; it’s easy, there whenever he wants to fuck. And that’s all it is. That’s all she is. Holes to fuck. 

“Want another hit, sugar?”

He’ll try to convince himself it’s just an easy way to test new product when he lets her have more than she’d earned. But he finds that he likes the far away glassy glaze in her eyes when she slips away to somewhere hazy, all cloudy and cottony. A taste of heaven that only he can give her.

And she gets a little giggly, a cutesy tilt in her empty head as she lays herself over him, shotgunning the smoke from his lips. Where when the two of them drift off together to nirvana on the couch, he ignores the warm, content feeling of waking up to her snugly wrapped around him.

And really, it’s her own fault the illusion shatters.

Dipped her feet in too far, and fell face first into the deep end when she’s sat on his lap in the back corner of his favorite seedy bar only half listening to one of his under-the-counter meetings, and finds herself lured in by the flash of a little white bag in the hands of a passing stranger. 

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes of distraction, of finalizing his business dealings when he notices she’s wandered off and broken his one rule not to leave his fucking sight. And it takes him all of two minutes to spot her halfway across the room, bent over a table snorting a goddamn line.

And he can’t focus on how fucking sexy it is that she sniffs it down without so much as blinking. He can’t focus on that because there’s some ugly freak leering over her, arm wrapped around her waist, and eyes shamelessly wandering her body up and down like he fucking owned her. Like the nameless fucking loser owned something that belonged to him.

He doesn’t really remember what happened after that when he’s standing over the bloodied corpse of the lowlife creep in the dimly lit back alley, except for the fact that sticky red was staining his fists and face and her tears were really starting to piss him off. 

“You spread your dirty fucking legs for any dude who's got a line?” 

He mocks her when he’s got her shoved against the wall bent and spread, face scratching against the stone, fucking into her with a force hard enough to make her bleed. There’s a twinge of satisfaction that she’s crying, voice wet and pathetic and submissive when she begs his forgiveness, prays for mercy. The hair that’s not caught in his fist sticks to her cheeks and neck, and he feels the sudden urge to bite.

“Keep screamin’, sugar. Maybe that dead pig’ll come and save you from the big bad wolf, huh?”

He delivers a sharp slap to her ass, and hauls her back by her hair, other hand palming and squeezing just a bit too harshly at her breasts. And she squeals, something sort of squirrel-like but adorable nonetheless. Something just for him. 

And when all is said and done, with his mark, his claim, leaking out of her and onto the cold pavement, mixing with the pooling blood of a stranger, he leans in real close. He twists her around to face him, and he can see the hollow, vacant look in her eyes. Empty. Empty because she’s nothing. Nothing unless he says otherwise. 

And with a sadistically giddy laugh, and his hot breath raising the hairs on her neck, he’ll seal one final warning with a searing kiss.

“You’re my bitch, my whore, forget it again, and see what happens.”

[howmanyholesinswisscheese]

More Sherlock & Co Headcanons

Because y'all like the first ones so much.

Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.

John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.

When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.

John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.

Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.

Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.

You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.

@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.

John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.

Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.

Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.

Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.

John makes the cutest sleep noises.

Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.

SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE

Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.

AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.

Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.

[britcision]

Alright I’m still alive a day later so LOOK! First pass of Taaco from TV! Everything but the hat and the cape came from the closet and the shorts say IDGAF on the butt but the cape covers them 😔

My first magic trick of the day was taking off the bra I wore to drive down without taking off the corset or shirt

My second trick was applying kinesiology tape to bind the tiddies down again, without taking off the corset or shirt

Success rates??? Not great, I’ll grant you, but I got a couple inches off and they stayed in place with no bouncing even when I ran for the 5 hours of con! So still better than the bra

(You are not supposed to tape the tiddies for more than 4 hours the first couple times you do it apparently and this was attempt 2 so even that was pushing it, especially in 30 degree heat. I go hard or go home)

These boots also have the highest incline from toe-to-heel that I’ve worn to a con, since all my taller shoes are platforms and reasonably flat which makes them super easy to run in

Only had one minor spill while chasing down a t-rex but those photos are all on the camera so they’ll live on Insta when the time comes

The ding dang bracer that closed fine at home on two magnets decided if I was gonna move my hands it now needs 3 to keep it in place, so I’m fixing that today

The criminal in question:

Aaaand the purple and blue pouch I sewed at the con while waiting for passes, so I think I really had a very Adventure Zone day all around

The hat? The hat crushed it, 0 problems except one attempt to take flight on our way back to the car, which I caught by the curtain wire sooooo I gotta tighten the attachments on that before I put the curtain on cuz it pulled a lil bit

Worked like a charm though, held it above my head for the dealer’s room, weighed nothing (comparatively, hence taking flight), and for the first time in 4 years I spent most of a day outside without getting sun sick

For the first time I did need to bobby pin this wig, which I shoulda seen coming given the hat. It did also keep trying to eat my ears, the pin, my earrings, and anything else that came near my head though so she may also be getting rowdy

The cape jingled merrily all day so even if I was a lil slowed down no one had to worry about losing me! 😁 all in all………. Them boots ain’t coming to Yeticon I would PERISH on the hills, but I have a couple possible substitutes

I’m hoping to have the curtain on by then though! Soooo depending on some imminent updates, we’ll see if the hat comes to con again 👀

We also watched a truck hit a soccer mom ass van and crack the damn windshield in half literally right in front of us rather than wait for the van to move over another foot so it could get through, because some genius decided that if he had to get to the back of the con at 5pm on Sunday through THE MAIN PARKING LOT he didn’t have to show up early or anything

To arrive on time. At the end of the con. On the last day.

You could barely swipe a credit card between their bumpers with how close he was tailgating the van, and then when staff came to direct an opening to slide the truck down the middle he couldn’t wait 5 more minutes for the car to actually get out of the way, sooooooo hope he liked the extra 2 hours and insurance calls

Lucky for us, we could get out of the parking lot the other way and I warned everyone in line behind him that they’d had a crash blocking that lane so they’d have a chance to turn around

I’m never parking back there again I’ll eat the $15-$20 to park at the hotel across the street for Sunday and anyone wanting a ride home with me can chip in

We actually did alright though, only took us one hour to clear the parking lot, despite lots of assholes and some poor indecisive souls who all seemed to think indicating was a polite request, not a declaration of intent

[luvtonique]

I feel like my artist career might be nearly over.

Now mind you, not because I'm burnt out, or because of some kind of controversy, but entirely because I don't know how much longer I can keep trying to push forward with it.

I don't hate my art, I don't even dislike it. It's my passion, and I want my entire life to be a life or creating art and telling stories.

I love sharing what I create with the world and I love having support from my fanbase.

But as of right now, I just can't get anyone noticing anything I do.

I've been working on a video game for almost a full year now, have gameplay footage I've shown, sprite animations, story I've shown off, characters I've been drawing and describing and giving backstories, and I get like 20 notes tops on anything I post.

I do streams for an average of 5 viewers every Monday and Wednesday and Friday. 5 viewers.

I have had a fundraiser to get me out of California because I can't afford to live here, I'm disabled, and I have a 75yo mother and an autistic brother I'm trying to get out of here too, and I barely scraped together $3000 of donations over the last year.

I pour my heart and soul into music that I've been writing and I'm met with backlash or people flat out ignoring the songs I post because people say my lyrics I write aren't worthy of notice or a paycheck. Soundcloud outright denied my ability to monetize my music. Completely. I am no longer able to request monetization.

The state of California has spent the last 15 years denying my attempts to get SSI, state disability, any kind of social security for my rheumatoid arthritis, and I even got told by a disability lawyer that they had to decline my case because I don't take medication for my disability. When I told them I don't have medical insurance because I don't qualify for MediCAL, they said that isn't their problem.

I watch other artists with 170,000 followers on Twitter bashing me and saying I don't deserve my fanbase for reasons they're just making up, and when I try to defend myself they just bash me harder and block me while I'm over on Twitter with like 300 followers and not getting noticed by anyone.

I reach out to my friends to get retweets, reblogs, etc. and I get nothing. No help, no love, after literal years of me promoting them and doing multistreams with them and collabs with them to help them get noticed.

I've even been blocked by multiple friends of mine when I asked if they wanted to partner up for projects. Really! Blocked! Outright blocked because people want so badly to get away from me!

I am literally starving. I'm currently eating stale sourdough bread that my mom made 2 weeks ago because it's all we have in the house.

I'm sitting here suffering constantly and when I ask people if they wanna like do a collab or do an art trade they always tell me they don't have time, and then the next day I see them post 6-7 art trades they did with another artist.

I make fan-art or fan-music for my artist friends and they just completely ignore it.

I am planning to rework my Patreon into a game dev Patreon to help support my solo development on Melodi, and I guarantee with certainty it won't breach $300 a month.

I have spent my entire life from age 11 to age 35 just working hard to make a living off of my art and all I have earned is a reputation as "a shithead" who never gets given the opportunity to question or debate or be interviewed by the people who call me a shithead.

I'm on the verge of fizzling out.

I'm barely surviving.

And when my game comes out, some day, it may very well be the last thing you ever see from me. I may just leave the internet. I may give up and go find another life to live.

Because even though this is my dream, even though this is all I've ever wanted to do with my life, even though I'm talented and my few fans I still have love everything I make and constantly tell me that my creations are gorgeous, I just plain can't keep doing this forever. I cannot, and will not, continue to suffer alone and obscure.

Case in point: This post is gonna get 2-6 comments from the same people who comment on all my emotional posts saying "I wish I could help but I can't so here's a virtual hug," 16-25 likes and 2 reblogs. And then I'll delete the post.

[flowersandbigteeth]

do you have adulting adult advice for us newly adulting adults

Ummm hmmm I'm not a great role model but there are some good things to keep in mind, generally, but they are probably not particularly profound, but more pragmatic informed by some of my less than enjoyable experiences. Life comes at you fast 😭

TW: mention of domestic abuse

- opinions are cheap and people hand them out liberally. They have no idea what it's like to live as you day to day, so take them with a grain of salt, including mine!

- Don't let people rush you. Be thoughtful about your decisions. In romance, purchases, everything

- Keep a folder or binder with all of your important documents, you never know when you will have to leave a place abruptly and you want to be able to grab the important stuff quickly.

- Keep a "go bag" if you can with some useful stuff, toothpaste, travel bottles of shampoo and hair styling stuff, a brush, deodorant, some cash, tampons or pads if you use them, an outfit, etc either in your car or someplace easy to grab if you need to escape an abusive person, fire, etc.

- take a night to develop a plan in case you need to leave a job or shelter in the future. I know this sounds a little paranoid, but seriously shit happens! At least have a general idea of what you would do and who you can trust. Check what local shelters, camp grounds, motels might be available to you and their requirements and or prices.

- Jot down in a notebook all of your relationships, who you can rely on, and their phone numbers or addresses in case you need help. It's also useful to jot down the shelters or camp grounds you researched. Put it in your go bag for if you lose your phone or someone steals or breaks it. Memorize at least one phone number of someone you can rely on if you can.

- Try to brush your teeth regularly and limit super acidic drinks, dental work is very expensive even with insurance 😭

- Keep your eyes on your own plate, people and their lives are complex. You have no idea what's going on behind closed doors so don't compare your life to other people's it's a waste of your limited energy

- If you can, make a friend or two at your job that you can use as a reference who is NOT your boss, in case you need to leave the job abruptly or get fired. You can also use references from hobbies or volunteer work.

- If you can, put even as little as $10 in a savings account every paycheck, it will add up, even $100 in savings is something for an emergency (a tire, a motel room, some food, a bus ticket, etc.) If you can put a little bit of money aside it can be the difference between losing your job for an absence because you had a flat tire and not, if that makes sense. If you have more sporadic income, just put some money away wherever you can, no matter how small. I put any money I get as a gift from family into savings because it wasn't money I was even expecting to have, so I don't miss it.

- if you have a car, watch some YouTube videos on basic care. Learn how to add fluids and when to change them, and how to change them if you feel comfortable with that. Keep a full sized spare tire not the donut most cars come with if you can. Get some jumper cables and you can buy a battery charger that will jump your car without another car that you can plug in to recharge.

-if you have family that asks you what you want for Christmas ask for pragmatic stuff not treats 😅 a battery charger, a battery block charger for your phone, a warm jacket, etc.

- Sometimes you have to leave jobs abruptly for a myriad of reasons and you have to buy a new uniform (nonslip shoes or whatever) so it's good to have $50 put away for that.

- I lived in my car for awhile when I was younger, (which is why I have so much car advice, lol) so in regards to that, try to find the cheapest gym membership you can with a locker room so you can take a shower. Bonus points if it has a locker where you can store stuff. You can also find public showers at the beach if you live near one that is safe (usually during the day and during the season where the beaches are busy with families). I had a friend who lived in a campground which had a shower he could use.

- Storage units have gotten expensive, but if you can afford one, they can be useful to have if you find yourself without shelter to store your electronics and easy to steal stuff. PO boxes are around 5-10$ a month in the US to receive mail if you need that.

- If you are without shelter, be VERY careful with who you share that information with. Predators look for vulnerable people and they are really good liars.

- If you have resources to and can, get a different doctor if yours isn't taking you seriously. I went to a doc before I was diagnosed with bipolar and PTSD that literally laughed at me when I told him about my hallucinations. Fortunately, I went to a student hospital and he got swapped out with a new one when his semester ended who actually diagnosed me properly, but bad doctors exist. If they are not addressing your concerns, it's ok to "fire" them.

- I don't care what he, she, or they says, if you can, keep your own bank account even if you also have a shared one with them. Keep some money in it in case you need to leave...even if it's only for a night to go to a motel room and cool off or for a bus ticket home. Also, even if the partner is not romantic but a parent. I've had friends thrown out because someone outed them to their parents with nothing. If you can't get a bank account for whatever reason, stash cash somewhere safe and don't tell anyone.

- If you break up with someone or get kicked out change all your passwords immediately. Even if you think they don't know them, you might be logged in on other devices.

I think those were the most useful things I learned when I was younger 🤔 sorry if it's too pragmatic but the most important thing to know as a young person is that it's easier than you think to become unhoused or jobless. I grew up in the era where when you were 18 you were on your own, so I kind of internalized that you need to plan for the worst because no one is coming to save you and if they do it's a nice surprise not guaranteed 😅

There's no shame in it, either. I've been laid off because corporate decided to just close the store a few days before Christmas with 0 notice. You don't have to obsess about this stuff, just take a night and try to develop a plan to give yourself some peace of mind in the case something bad happens.

[mariacallous]

Every so often along 99 between Bakersfield and Sacramento there is a town: Delano, Tulare, Fresno, Madera, Merced, Modesto, Stockton. Some of these towns are pretty big now, but they are all the same at heart, one- and two- and three-storey buildings artlessly arranged, so that what appears to be the good dress shop stands between a W. T. Grant store, so that the big Bank of America faces a Mexican movie house. Dos Peliculas, Bingo Bingo Bingo. Beyond the downtown (pronounced downtown with the Okie accent that now pervades Valley speech patterns) lie blocks of old frame houses – paint peeling, sidewalks cracking, their occasional leaded amber windows overlooking a Foster’s Freeze or a five-minute car wash or a State Farm Insurance office; beyond those spread the shopping centers and the mills of tract houses, pastel with redwood siding, the unmistakable signs of cheap building already blossoming on those houses which have survived the first rain. To a stranger driving 99 in an air-conditioned car (he would be on business, I suppose, any stranger driving 99, for 99 would never get a tourist to Big Sur or San Simeon, never get him to the California he came to see), these towns must seem so flat, so impoverished, as to drain the imagination. They hint at evenings spent hanging around gas stations, and suicide pacts sealed in drive-ins. But remember:

Q. In what way does the Holy Land resemble the Sacramento Valley? A. In the type and diversity of its agricultural products.

U.S. 99 in fact passes through the richest and most intensely cultivated agricultural region in the world, a giant outdoor hothouse with a billion-dollar crop. It is when you remember the Valley’s wealth that the monochromatic flatness of its towns takes on a curious meaning, suggests a habit of mind some would consider perverse. There is something in the Valley mind that reflects a real indifference to the stranger in his air-conditioned car, a failure to perceive even his presence, let alone his thoughts or wants. An implacable insularity is the seal of these towns. I once met a woman in Dallas, a most charming and attractive woman accustomed to the hospitality and social hypersensitivity of Texas, who told me that during the four war years her husband had been stationed in Modesto, she had never once been invited inside anyone’s house. No one in Sacramento would find this story remarkable (“She probably had no relatives there,” said someone to whom I told it), for the Valley towns understand one another, share a peculiar spirit. They think alike and they look alike. I can tell Modesto from Merced, but I have visited there, gone to dances there; besides there is over the main street of Modesto an arched sign which reads:

WATER – WEALTH CONTENTMENT – HEALTH

There is no such sign in Merced.

Notes From A Native Daughter – Joan Didion

[imsososolesbian]

Not cool man

Repost. Not stolen. Edits made.

Warnings: Hospital

Word count: 925

Summary: You aren’t fond of longer boarders.

There were two skate parks in town. One newer, which you hated going to, but it was closer to your house, and an older one. You’d always try to go to the old one but most of your skater friends hated it because according to them it was a ‘death trap’ sure there were nails everywhere and pieces of scrap metal but it was your favourite. The older skate park had more personality you would always try to reason, but your friends would just look at you like you were an alien.

Against your better judgment, and because one of your skater friends' girlfriends would bring snacks, you set out for the park. It was much bigger than the old skate park, which was nice but that means it was much more crowded.

You make it to the skate park, say hi to Akilah, and put your bag near where she is sitting. She greets you but goes quiet again, and following her line of sight you see her girlfriend Mari teaching Akilah’s nephew how to skate, which wasn’t going all that great, the skateboard that was being used to teach was far too big for the young boy.

Taking a deep breath you put your board down and hop on. Your warmup was always on flat ground, so you spent a few minutes doing tricks before you felt like you were warmed up enough to continue on. You skated the halfpipe, the bowl, and even some rails before your small group of friends met up on the side lines.

“We should play a game of skate,” Van says, laying down in the grass, “It’s been forever since we’ve played it.”

You nod your head as you take an offered pack of Goldfish from Akilah. Opening the pack you look out at the skatepark. There were a lot of people, and kids. You knew a game of skate would be hard with kids everywhere, riding in front of you as you try to do a trick. You were happy that Akilah's nephew was asleep beside her right now.

“I’d be down if my board didn’t break,” Nat scoffs, her board lay by her feet, broken straight down the middle. You know for a fact she’d never use any of the group's skateboards because they weren’t hers, so it would be hard to get comfortable on it.

Soon after everyone had some rest, they all got up and the first person did their trick, because Van suggested it, she went first. It was simple, just a backside nosegrind off of one of the blocks into a heelflip.

Everyone goes back and forth. Gaining letters and making tricks harder and harder till you wipe out completely.

A girl on a longboard had come into the skatepark a little after you and your small group of friends had started playing and you felt like she’d get in the way but you didn’t think she’d be the reason you would suffer a broken arm.

You groan in pain before sitting up and looking at your arm, “Fuck not again,” you sigh. Your left arm was always the arm you’d break, you don’t know why it was always your left arm but it was. In all your years of skating you’ve only ever broken the left arm, never the right.

The person on the longboard came skating back around, hopping off her board and picking it up, “That doesn’t look too good,” she says, and you look up and over to her.

“It’s broken of course it doesn’t,” was your response as you are helped up by Mari who leads you over to Akilah. The longboard girl follows the two of you over to the side line.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asks and you glare over at her.

“There is, watch where you’re going when on that thing,” you point to the longboard that was now under her arm.

She shakes her head, “I can pay for your hospital visit. I would rather not get insurance involved with this.”

“Fine.”

Soon enough you were in the ambulance. None of your friends at the skatepark had a car, and of course today was the day Shauna had to be busy and couldn’t make it.

For whatever reason your friends let the longboard girl go in the ambulance with you. You could feel her eyes bearing into the side of your head. You didn’t pay any attention to her as you just kept your eyes trained on one of the walls of the ambulance.

Hours later you were finally out of the cramped room they had brought you too once making it to the hospital and now had a cast on your arm. You walked through the waiting room and pasted the longboard girl who got up and followed you out.

You look over to her once out of the hospital and she smiles at you, “Everything is paid for,” she tells you, and she then looks through her bag and pulls out a few flowers and hands them to you, “Have a good day.”

And then you're left alone, walking back to your place.

Walking into your house, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the couch you notice a small piece of paper sticking out of the flowers, which you had thrown onto the table.

You read the small note. A name and phone number printed on it, “Huh, Lottie Matthews,” you mumble out and grab your phone, putting her number into your contacts.

[randomliverpool]

A large fire was witnessed by residents of Liverpool Student Lettings accommodation in the early hours on January 27 2024. #LiverpoolEcho

Village of the damned: Inside the Fox Street fire

Special investigation: For years, Matt O'Donoghue was told about major problems at a controversial development in Everton. Then the dire predictions came true. By Matt O’Donoghue.

“Block D is an inferno right now”, the first message reads. “Look what’s been torched.” More follow. “Not sure how other blocks are faring, they’ve been evacuated.” Some have video or photos attached. “Seen this. I feel sick.” One simply reads: “Fox Street’s final chapter.”

Block D at the stalled residential development of Fox Street Village sits on the edge of Everton. It is ablaze, and a lot of people want me to know. As the firefighters battle to hold back the flames that threaten to leap from block to block, frantic calls, dramatic videos, and heartbreaking messages light up my phone screen. Many of those getting in touch are people I met over the past five years I’ve been reporting on the sorry saga of Fox Street Village. They’re all saying the same thing: “It was only a matter of time.”

“Something like this had to happen,” says Chris Burridge, who owns one of the Fox Street Village apartments as he surveys the damage. It’s Sunday, January 28th and the day after the fire. Steel girders are bent and buckled like roller coaster tracks; the metal cools and creaks, and loose material flaps in the wind. “There’s been no decent perimeter fence for some time, even though we’ve been reporting incidents. We were lucky Block B didn’t go up. The flames and heat were ferocious. Mersey Fire saved those buildings.”

Lucky indeed. Fox Street Village was originally intended to be a 400 apartment complex spread across four blocks that were to be four or five stories tall. But Block D was never completed and has remained an unfinished shell for the past five years. The rest of the site, on the other hand, is home to a number of residents. Had the fire spread there, it would have been catastrophic. Letting agents are on-site to support tenants and help with the clean up, while insurance brokers and risk assessors mill about around them. Lifts, heating, and water are soon back on. Black debris litters the ground and the flat roofs of the adjacent blocks, while clumps of burnt insulation and wood continue to drift from above.

A team from Residence 365, the company that manages the Village’s interior communal areas, is helping to get residents back into their homes. “Unfortunately, as the fire started to take hold, many residents in Block A failed to evacuate,” says Carolyn Delaney, Residence 365’s managing director. “Police had to force their way into every apartment to make sure that building was clear and everyone was safe. Those doors and frames will have to be repaired.”

Outside, Block B’s walls and windows are warped from where it faced the fire. The cladding is buckled and wavy, like bad icing on an overbaked cake. Most of the glass is cracked and broken, and window frames have bowed out of shape. The fire breaks under the cladding will have activated and expanded. There will need to be a lot of work to put things right.

“The grounds and estate management company are nowhere”, says an exasperated Burridge. The last he was told, a company called Xenia Estates Limited were responsible for looking after the outside areas. “It’s outrageous. They’ve sent nobody down here to help or make things safe.”

Kevin Robertson-Hale is a local campaigner who set up the action group Everton Together. He was shopping at the ASDA on the Breck Road when he first saw the black clouds rising above his community. He knew straight away what was likely to be burning. “It’s just a miracle that nobody’s been hurt,” he says. Although Block D was not a finished building, homeless people have been sleeping there and using it as a shelter. “The way the place went up, someone asleep would never have got out.” Kevin is horrified by what has happened, but certainly not surprised. “We’ve been saying for years that something was going to happen. Either someone was going to fall off and break their neck, or it was going to go up in flames.”

Beneath the debris and behind the spectacular videos, the plumes of smoke billowing out and up from the bare bones of blazing Block D, are hundreds of stories of loss and despair. To properly understand what went wrong at Fox Street Village, to learn why things must be fixed, we have to understand why they were broken in the first place.

Between 1971 and 1991, Everton’s population dropped by 60% as the area’s fortunes and prospects charted exactly the decline of the British Empire. As Liverpool’s docks fell silent, the huge warehouses and the factories like Tate and Lyle and British American Tobacco were closed. Thousands of jobs disappeared and the communities that once relied upon those goods shipped from all corners of the Empire ceased to exist. An urgent need to improve the area’s housing conditions, the crumbling Victorian tenements, led to slum clearance and demolition on a massive scale. Those once solid communities were broken up with families moved out and housed in places like Kirby, Runcorn and Skelmersdale. It was the perfect storm; shops closed, tower blocks were pulled down and the city’s terminal decline was hastened by Margaret Thatcher’s vicious attempts to starve the upstart council controlled by Hatton’s Militant Tendency into surrender.

Fox Street Village followed the same controversial funding model that has dogged similar schemes across the city, known as ‘fractional sales’. Buyers — many based overseas — are enticed with the promise of a good rent and a solid investment in return for paying a large part of the sale price upfront. But as countless investors at other stalled sites in Liverpool have discovered to their detriment, there’s little or no protection should things go wrong.

When Fox Street Village Limited collapsed into administration, in 2019, it owed creditors £10 million and the city council nearly £700,000. The council told us that an invoice for over half a million pounds remains unpaid but that the building’s new owners will have to pick up that tab. Meanwhile, £6 million that investors had paid out for Block D was instead spent on a new fifth building the developers had added to their scheme. A search of records show creditors who had paid for apartments in Block D came from Birkenhead to Beijing and all points in between. With no money left to complete the job, and no cash to settle their bills, the steel frame and internal walls made of wood have remained open to the elements. The freehold to the site was sold to Manchester-based property investment company SGL1 Limited in 2020 for a reported £1.6 million. The site was split and a separate company run by the same two directors as SGL1 but called SGL3, took over the unfinished Block D. A series of complex court cases followed as buyers battled to gain control and finish the scheme. By 2021, the architect’s original drawings for Block D had been rebranded as “Park View” to be marketed at a new group of buyers. A one bed studio in the unfinished wood and steel shell was being advertised for £85,000. The Post is unsure how many people bought into this new scheme or whether their money is protected.

“I bought a three-bedroom apartment that cost £135,000, which was a really good deal. With hindsight, almost too good to be true. I’ve been firefighting one problem after another since day one.” November 8th, 2023 and I am rattling along the M62 with Chris Burridge. “It doesn’t look that good,” Chris says with detached stoicism and monumental understatement as Fox Street Village Block D comes into view. “It would be funny, if it wasn’t so costly and dangerous.” Chris is one of the apartment owners who have been battling over an £80,000 bill to install a transformer that would safely reconnect their electricity to the grid. The builders left a hot-wired connection into the mains, which Chris says the buyers only found out about after they’d secured the right to manage some of the site. It was just the latest in a long line of hidden surprises that have revealed themselves over the five years since tenants moved in. “The biggest block, Block D, is just a shell that should have been finished years ago,” Chris tells me as we pull up alongside what looks like a building entirely made of wood and wrapped in tin foil. “There should have been one large, shared entrance area, an underground car park for 170 vehicles, shops, a cinema room with communal laundry, and a bike store. All of those amenities were what made this site so attractive.”

Chris pauses to re-imagine what could have been, before reality kicks back in. “None of that exists. What we’ve actually got are great apartments next to the rat-infested fire trap of a mess that is Block D.”

By Matt O’Donoghue

“Block D is an inferno right now”, the first message reads. “Look what’s been torched.” More follow. “Not sure how other blocks are faring, they’ve been evacuated.” Some have video or photos attached. “Seen this. I feel sick.” One simply reads: “Fox Street’s final chapter.”

Block D at the stalled residential development of Fox Street Village sits on the edge of Everton. It is ablaze, and a lot of people want me to know. As the firefighters battle to hold back the flames that threaten to leap from block to block, frantic calls, dramatic videos, and heartbreaking messages light up my phone screen. Many of those getting in touch are people I met over the past five years I’ve been reporting on the sorry saga of Fox Street Village. They’re all saying the same thing: “It was only a matter of time.”

Chris Burridge on Fox Street. Photo: Matt O’Donoghue.

“Something like this had to happen,” says Chris Burridge, who owns one of the Fox Street Village apartments as he surveys the damage. It’s Sunday, January 28th and the day after the fire. Steel girders are bent and buckled like roller coaster tracks; the metal cools and creaks, and loose material flaps in the wind. “There’s been no decent perimeter fence for some time, even though we’ve been reporting incidents. We were lucky Block B didn’t go up. The flames and heat were ferocious. Mersey Fire saved those buildings.”

Lucky indeed. Fox Street Village was originally intended to be a 400 apartment complex spread across four blocks that were to be four or five stories tall. But Block D was never completed and has remained an unfinished shell for the past five years. The rest of the site, on the other hand, is home to a number of residents. Had the fire spread there, it would have been catastrophic. Letting agents are on-site to support tenants and help with the clean up, while insurance brokers and risk assessors mill about around them. Lifts, heating, and water are soon back on. Black debris litters the ground and the flat roofs of the adjacent blocks, while clumps of burnt insulation and wood continue to drift from above.

A team from Residence 365, the company that manages the Village’s interior communal areas, is helping to get residents back into their homes. “Unfortunately, as the fire started to take hold, many residents in Block A failed to evacuate,” says Carolyn Delaney, Residence 365’s managing director. “Police had to force their way into every apartment to make sure that building was clear and everyone was safe. Those doors and frames will have to be repaired.”

Outside, Block B’s walls and windows are warped from where it faced the fire. The cladding is buckled and wavy, like bad icing on an overbaked cake. Most of the glass is cracked and broken, and window frames have bowed out of shape. The fire breaks under the cladding will have activated and expanded. There will need to be a lot of work to put things right.

“The grounds and estate management company are nowhere”, says an exasperated Burridge. The last he was told, a company called Xenia Estates Limited were responsible for looking after the outside areas. “It’s outrageous. They’ve sent nobody down here to help or make things safe.”

Subscribe

Kevin Robertson-Hale is a local campaigner who set up the action group Everton Together. He was shopping at the ASDA on the Breck Road when he first saw the black clouds rising above his community. He knew straight away what was likely to be burning. “It’s just a miracle that nobody’s been hurt,” he says. Although Block D was not a finished building, homeless people have been sleeping there and using it as a shelter. “The way the place went up, someone asleep would never have got out.” Kevin is horrified by what has happened, but certainly not surprised. “We’ve been saying for years that something was going to happen. Either someone was going to fall off and break their neck, or it was going to go up in flames.”

Beneath the debris and behind the spectacular videos, the plumes of smoke billowing out and up from the bare bones of blazing Block D, are hundreds of stories of loss and despair. To properly understand what went wrong at Fox Street Village, to learn why things must be fixed, we have to understand why they were broken in the first place.

The building on Fox Street. Photo: Chris Burridge

Between 1971 and 1991, Everton’s population dropped by 60% as the area’s fortunes and prospects charted exactly the decline of the British Empire. As Liverpool’s docks fell silent, the huge warehouses and the factories like Tate and Lyle and British American Tobacco were closed. Thousands of jobs disappeared and the communities that once relied upon those goods shipped from all corners of the Empire ceased to exist. An urgent need to improve the area’s housing conditions, the crumbling Victorian tenements, led to slum clearance and demolition on a massive scale. Those once solid communities were broken up with families moved out and housed in places like Kirby, Runcorn and Skelmersdale. It was the perfect storm; shops closed, tower blocks were pulled down and the city’s terminal decline was hastened by Margaret Thatcher’s vicious attempts to starve the upstart council controlled by Hatton’s Militant Tendency into surrender.

Stand on the edge of Fox Street today and look towards the gleaming glass skyscrapers and modern penthouses and it’s obvious, the regeneration that has breathed new life into other parts of Liverpool in recent years seems to run out of steam as it creeps towards this area’s streets. According to the last census, Everton West — where Fox Street Village sits — has the third highest numbers of children on free school meals. This neighbourhood has some of the poorest health indicators, including the lowest life expectancy, across the whole of the city.

As Liverpool’s reputation grew as a great place to study, the last decade has seen residential housing for the influx of students become the city’s short-term planning solution and a way to kickstart Everton’s economy.

Fox Street Village followed the same controversial funding model that has dogged similar schemes across the city, known as ‘fractional sales’. Buyers — many based overseas — are enticed with the promise of a good rent and a solid investment in return for paying a large part of the sale price upfront. But as countless investors at other stalled sites in Liverpool have discovered to their detriment, there’s little or no protection should things go wrong.

When Fox Street Village Limited collapsed into administration, in 2019, it owed creditors £10 million and the city council nearly £700,000. The council told us that an invoice for over half a million pounds remains unpaid but that the building’s new owners will have to pick up that tab. Meanwhile, £6 million that investors had paid out for Block D was instead spent on a new fifth building the developers had added to their scheme. A search of records show creditors who had paid for apartments in Block D came from Birkenhead to Beijing and all points in between. With no money left to complete the job, and no cash to settle their bills, the steel frame and internal walls made of wood have remained open to the elements. The freehold to the site was sold to Manchester-based property investment company SGL1 Limited in 2020 for a reported £1.6 million. The site was split and a separate company run by the same two directors as SGL1 but called SGL3, took over the unfinished Block D. A series of complex court cases followed as buyers battled to gain control and finish the scheme. By 2021, the architect’s original drawings for Block D had been rebranded as “Park View” to be marketed at a new group of buyers. A one bed studio in the unfinished wood and steel shell was being advertised for £85,000. The Post is unsure how many people bought into this new scheme or whether their money is protected.

“I bought a three-bedroom apartment that cost £135,000, which was a really good deal. With hindsight, almost too good to be true. I’ve been firefighting one problem after another since day one.” November 8th, 2023 and I am rattling along the M62 with Chris Burridge. “It doesn’t look that good,” Chris says with detached stoicism and monumental understatement as Fox Street Village Block D comes into view. “It would be funny, if it wasn’t so costly and dangerous.” Chris is one of the apartment owners who have been battling over an £80,000 bill to install a transformer that would safely reconnect their electricity to the grid. The builders left a hot-wired connection into the mains, which Chris says the buyers only found out about after they’d secured the right to manage some of the site. It was just the latest in a long line of hidden surprises that have revealed themselves over the five years since tenants moved in. “The biggest block, Block D, is just a shell that should have been finished years ago,” Chris tells me as we pull up alongside what looks like a building entirely made of wood and wrapped in tin foil. “There should have been one large, shared entrance area, an underground car park for 170 vehicles, shops, a cinema room with communal laundry, and a bike store. All of those amenities were what made this site so attractive.”

Chris pauses to re-imagine what could have been, before reality kicks back in. “None of that exists. What we’ve actually got are great apartments next to the rat-infested fire trap of a mess that is Block D.”

Residents in this area have been complaining to me about the rats for as long as I’ve been investigating Fox Street Village. Back in April 2019, I broke my first story on the slow-motion car crash that has taken place here — months of work as part of an ongoing investigation for ITV’s Granada Reports. Back then, tenant Ross Lowey told me on camera: “We don’t feel safe. Every time we come back round that corner, we expect to see flames coming out of it.” He was far from alone in his unhappy prophecy.

Six months before that first ITV News report, in November 2018, I had been on a separate investigation into how developers duck out of paying the millions they owed to their cash-strapped council. It suddenly took an unexpected twist. While I ploughed through a mountain of conflicting planning documents that link to this case, a buyer tipped me off that their building was about to be the first on Merseyside to be shut down and issued with a Prohibition Notice. It was the last-ditch resort for a city council that had run out of ideas on how to make this site safe. “Serious construction issues will contribute to the spread of fire,” the Prohibition Notice reads. “Fire will spread quickly and possibly unnoticed.”

Put simply, the problems that the buyers had uncovered at their completed flats were so severe that they put lives at risk. While Block D remained unfinished, three of the four blocks that people had already moved into were so dangerous that everyone would be forced to move out — immediately. Judge Lloyd would later brand the project “disgraceful” as she fined the developers £3,120 for breaching planning conditions. She expressed sympathy for the residents and investors who had been affected. Planning inspectors said the development was “poorly finished” and failed to meet standards. Those problems have cost hundreds of thousands of pounds to put right.

3

By Matt O’Donoghue

“Block D is an inferno right now”, the first message reads. “Look what’s been torched.” More follow. “Not sure how other blocks are faring, they’ve been evacuated.” Some have video or photos attached. “Seen this. I feel sick.” One simply reads: “Fox Street’s final chapter.”

Block D at the stalled residential development of Fox Street Village sits on the edge of Everton. It is ablaze, and a lot of people want me to know. As the firefighters battle to hold back the flames that threaten to leap from block to block, frantic calls, dramatic videos, and heartbreaking messages light up my phone screen. Many of those getting in touch are people I met over the past five years I’ve been reporting on the sorry saga of Fox Street Village. They’re all saying the same thing: “It was only a matter of time.”

Chris Burridge on Fox Street. Photo: Matt O’Donoghue.

“Something like this had to happen,” says Chris Burridge, who owns one of the Fox Street Village apartments as he surveys the damage. It’s Sunday, January 28th and the day after the fire. Steel girders are bent and buckled like roller coaster tracks; the metal cools and creaks, and loose material flaps in the wind. “There’s been no decent perimeter fence for some time, even though we’ve been reporting incidents. We were lucky Block B didn’t go up. The flames and heat were ferocious. Mersey Fire saved those buildings.”

Lucky indeed. Fox Street Village was originally intended to be a 400 apartment complex spread across four blocks that were to be four or five stories tall. But Block D was never completed and has remained an unfinished shell for the past five years. The rest of the site, on the other hand, is home to a number of residents. Had the fire spread there, it would have been catastrophic. Letting agents are on-site to support tenants and help with the clean up, while insurance brokers and risk assessors mill about around them. Lifts, heating, and water are soon back on. Black debris litters the ground and the flat roofs of the adjacent blocks, while clumps of burnt insulation and wood continue to drift from above.

A team from Residence 365, the company that manages the Village’s interior communal areas, is helping to get residents back into their homes. “Unfortunately, as the fire started to take hold, many residents in Block A failed to evacuate,” says Carolyn Delaney, Residence 365’s managing director. “Police had to force their way into every apartment to make sure that building was clear and everyone was safe. Those doors and frames will have to be repaired.”

Outside, Block B’s walls and windows are warped from where it faced the fire. The cladding is buckled and wavy, like bad icing on an overbaked cake. Most of the glass is cracked and broken, and window frames have bowed out of shape. The fire breaks under the cladding will have activated and expanded. There will need to be a lot of work to put things right.

“The grounds and estate management company are nowhere”, says an exasperated Burridge. The last he was told, a company called Xenia Estates Limited were responsible for looking after the outside areas. “It’s outrageous. They’ve sent nobody down here to help or make things safe.”

Subscribe

Kevin Robertson-Hale is a local campaigner who set up the action group Everton Together. He was shopping at the ASDA on the Breck Road when he first saw the black clouds rising above his community. He knew straight away what was likely to be burning. “It’s just a miracle that nobody’s been hurt,” he says. Although Block D was not a finished building, homeless people have been sleeping there and using it as a shelter. “The way the place went up, someone asleep would never have got out.” Kevin is horrified by what has happened, but certainly not surprised. “We’ve been saying for years that something was going to happen. Either someone was going to fall off and break their neck, or it was going to go up in flames.”

Beneath the debris and behind the spectacular videos, the plumes of smoke billowing out and up from the bare bones of blazing Block D, are hundreds of stories of loss and despair. To properly understand what went wrong at Fox Street Village, to learn why things must be fixed, we have to understand why they were broken in the first place.

The building on Fox Street. Photo: Chris Burridge

Between 1971 and 1991, Everton’s population dropped by 60% as the area’s fortunes and prospects charted exactly the decline of the British Empire. As Liverpool’s docks fell silent, the huge warehouses and the factories like Tate and Lyle and British American Tobacco were closed. Thousands of jobs disappeared and the communities that once relied upon those goods shipped from all corners of the Empire ceased to exist. An urgent need to improve the area’s housing conditions, the crumbling Victorian tenements, led to slum clearance and demolition on a massive scale. Those once solid communities were broken up with families moved out and housed in places like Kirby, Runcorn and Skelmersdale. It was the perfect storm; shops closed, tower blocks were pulled down and the city’s terminal decline was hastened by Margaret Thatcher’s vicious attempts to starve the upstart council controlled by Hatton’s Militant Tendency into surrender.

Stand on the edge of Fox Street today and look towards the gleaming glass skyscrapers and modern penthouses and it’s obvious, the regeneration that has breathed new life into other parts of Liverpool in recent years seems to run out of steam as it creeps towards this area’s streets. According to the last census, Everton West — where Fox Street Village sits — has the third highest numbers of children on free school meals. This neighbourhood has some of the poorest health indicators, including the lowest life expectancy, across the whole of the city.

As Liverpool’s reputation grew as a great place to study, the last decade has seen residential housing for the influx of students become the city’s short-term planning solution and a way to kickstart Everton’s economy.

Fox Street Village followed the same controversial funding model that has dogged similar schemes across the city, known as ‘fractional sales’. Buyers — many based overseas — are enticed with the promise of a good rent and a solid investment in return for paying a large part of the sale price upfront. But as countless investors at other stalled sites in Liverpool have discovered to their detriment, there’s little or no protection should things go wrong.

When Fox Street Village Limited collapsed into administration, in 2019, it owed creditors £10 million and the city council nearly £700,000. The council told us that an invoice for over half a million pounds remains unpaid but that the building’s new owners will have to pick up that tab. Meanwhile, £6 million that investors had paid out for Block D was instead spent on a new fifth building the developers had added to their scheme. A search of records show creditors who had paid for apartments in Block D came from Birkenhead to Beijing and all points in between. With no money left to complete the job, and no cash to settle their bills, the steel frame and internal walls made of wood have remained open to the elements. The freehold to the site was sold to Manchester-based property investment company SGL1 Limited in 2020 for a reported £1.6 million. The site was split and a separate company run by the same two directors as SGL1 but called SGL3, took over the unfinished Block D. A series of complex court cases followed as buyers battled to gain control and finish the scheme. By 2021, the architect’s original drawings for Block D had been rebranded as “Park View” to be marketed at a new group of buyers. A one bed studio in the unfinished wood and steel shell was being advertised for £85,000. The Post is unsure how many people bought into this new scheme or whether their money is protected.

Fox Street after the fire. Photo: Chris Burridge

“I bought a three-bedroom apartment that cost £135,000, which was a really good deal. With hindsight, almost too good to be true. I’ve been firefighting one problem after another since day one.” November 8th, 2023 and I am rattling along the M62 with Chris Burridge. “It doesn’t look that good,” Chris says with detached stoicism and monumental understatement as Fox Street Village Block D comes into view. “It would be funny, if it wasn’t so costly and dangerous.” Chris is one of the apartment owners who have been battling over an £80,000 bill to install a transformer that would safely reconnect their electricity to the grid. The builders left a hot-wired connection into the mains, which Chris says the buyers only found out about after they’d secured the right to manage some of the site. It was just the latest in a long line of hidden surprises that have revealed themselves over the five years since tenants moved in. “The biggest block, Block D, is just a shell that should have been finished years ago,” Chris tells me as we pull up alongside what looks like a building entirely made of wood and wrapped in tin foil. “There should have been one large, shared entrance area, an underground car park for 170 vehicles, shops, a cinema room with communal laundry, and a bike store. All of those amenities were what made this site so attractive.”

Chris pauses to re-imagine what could have been, before reality kicks back in. “None of that exists. What we’ve actually got are great apartments next to the rat-infested fire trap of a mess that is Block D.”

The author Matt O’Donoghue on ITV. Photo: ITC/IMDb.

Residents in this area have been complaining to me about the rats for as long as I’ve been investigating Fox Street Village. Back in April 2019, I broke my first story on the slow-motion car crash that has taken place here — months of work as part of an ongoing investigation for ITV’s Granada Reports. Back then, tenant Ross Lowey told me on camera: “We don’t feel safe. Every time we come back round that corner, we expect to see flames coming out of it.” He was far from alone in his unhappy prophecy.

Six months before that first ITV News report, in November 2018, I had been on a separate investigation into how developers duck out of paying the millions they owed to their cash-strapped council. It suddenly took an unexpected twist. While I ploughed through a mountain of conflicting planning documents that link to this case, a buyer tipped me off that their building was about to be the first on Merseyside to be shut down and issued with a Prohibition Notice. It was the last-ditch resort for a city council that had run out of ideas on how to make this site safe. “Serious construction issues will contribute to the spread of fire,” the Prohibition Notice reads. “Fire will spread quickly and possibly unnoticed.”

Put simply, the problems that the buyers had uncovered at their completed flats were so severe that they put lives at risk. While Block D remained unfinished, three of the four blocks that people had already moved into were so dangerous that everyone would be forced to move out — immediately. Judge Lloyd would later brand the project “disgraceful” as she fined the developers £3,120 for breaching planning conditions. She expressed sympathy for the residents and investors who had been affected. Planning inspectors said the development was “poorly finished” and failed to meet standards. Those problems have cost hundreds of thousands of pounds to put right.

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The council say that it was only after the buildings were largely constructed that it became apparent there was a failure to comply with conditions or the plans that had been passed. When the new owners submitted another application to make up for the missing car park, a fresh deal was struck for them to pay towards a cycle route and parking scheme. But planning approval was refused when no money was forthcoming.

Two companies were involved in the development of Fox Street Village: Linmari Construction Limited and Fox Street Village Limited. Both were run by company director, Gary Howard. In 2013, Howard was left as the sole director of Fox Street Student Halls Limited after his business partner, Lee Carroll, was forced to step down. Carroll had been found guilty of being a gang master under legislation brought in to tackle labour exploitation after an investigation into a recruitment company that Carroll ran with John Howard. Carroll was banned from being a company director for 12 years.

While nothing should be inferred from Gary Howard’s previous business history, six companies where he was a director and shareholder have a County Court Judgement against them. Just like Fox Street Village Limited, seven firms that Howard also once helped run have gone into administration owing money to creditors — two of which were also residential developments in Liverpool designed for student living. We’ve been unable to contact Mr Howard for a comment.

“The frameworks that are supposed to deliver safe buildings, protect their owners and keep those inside safe are not up to the job,” says Dr Len Gibbs, whose doctoral thesis focused on the problems with unfinished developments in the Liverpool area.

That regulatory framework — to get a building through from an architect’s drawings to the point of being occupied — can be roughly broken down into two stages: planning and building control. The first part is strictly controlled by rules and regulations that must be met and followed to the letter. A council department controls the planning process, and everything has to be approved by a committee after a rigorous assessment by trained officers. Once it passes and everybody agrees that the buildings are what the council and community needs, the proposals are said to have ‘gained consent’.

When developers have their planning consent, a building control team comes on board to oversee every step of the construction. Site inspectors visit to approve stages such as the foundations and drains, and the relevant paperwork is filed with the city council to confirm everything has progressed according to the plans that were submitted and in accordance with the required regulations. In theory, these two functions operate independently but in support of one another to deliver a building that doesn’t kill the people who move in.

That’s something of a simplification, but these are incredibly complex areas that require years of training to properly understand. Only when every step has been followed can a completion certificate be issued against the building and each individual apartment. These final pieces of paper confirm that everything is up to standard and legally ready for tenants to move in. If all these steps are followed correctly, then a development of buildings that were once judged to be a threat to the lives of residents should never be occupied. Yet they were occupied.

[prosperdemeter2]

Teaser Tuesday - collision

Softly, Chim whistled and Hen, from where she was standing just a step in front of Eddie (maybe it was a protection instinct, because Bobby didn’t consider himself all that protective of Eddie but he too wanted to shove him far enough behind him that Shannon’s words could stop piercing his skin), raised a perfectly straight brow. “Shannon this isn’t… this isn’t a divorce, this is -.” Eddie tried again, his voice rising with his emotions. 

Wordlessly, Bobby watched Hen’s hand land on his elbow and her thumb draw a steady, straight line in his skin. 

He was shocked that Eddie didn’t shake her off. “My son has almost died twice in the past year, Eddie.” 

“So you want to put him through a custody battle?” 

They shouldn’t be doing this here. Bobby should have been interrupting it, stopping it from happening before it could get out of hand. “He watched a man die!” 

“He didn’t see anyone die!” Buck had made sure of that. Bobby would always remember the way they had all shifted, as a team even then, to block Buck’s friend’s body from view, even as Eddie had stuffed Christopher’s head in his shoulder to keep him from seeing when he edged him out of the bathroom and down the stairs. 

“And then he almost died -!” 

“In a natural disaster!” 

“Because you won’t get rid of the common denominator!” 

The common denominator. 

Buck. 

It had to be Buck, because Eddie’s eyes only did that when one of them said something about Buck that Eddie considered off limits. Bobby felt his own emotions spike - what had happened with Doug Kendall was no more Buck’s fault than it was Bobby’s fault that he was in the engine when it exploded. Eddie had held him responsible for his part in it, but Buck had held himself to a standard that was higher than it ever needed to be. The implication that Eddie should have thrown Buck to the side because he had tried to keep both Christopher and his sister safe, and that he had, somehow, willingly gotten Christopher in a tsunami was one that had Bobby seeing red. 

Shannon had just made a mistake, Bobby noted, to bring up Buck so cavalierly in front of his entire team (his entire family, whether Bobby wanted to admit it or not. Whether they were close enough to call each other that or not. They were all a family, they just had to learn to let each other in). “You -.” 

“He’s scared of you, Eddie!” Shannon continued, throwing her words in his face like daggers. “You have nightmares where you wake up yelling! You shuttle him off to your grandmother or your aunt or your friend -.” 

“His home health aid?” 

“And you’re never around! What with your work schedule?” She scoffed with a laugh. “The only thing you have going for you is your health insurance.” 

“I’m never around?” Eddie echoed and Shannon’s fiance, the one Buck had called boring with his flat mousy blonde hair, placed himself in the middle of the two of them, his jaw set as he tried to intimidate all that Eddie was with all that he was. It wasn’t going to work, even to Bobby the other man looked like he was showboating - puffing up his chest in an effort to defend but like he would crumble down like a paper plate the moment Eddie put even the slightest of pressure on him. “Shannon, you haven’t seen your son for longer than three hours without me having to rearrange a schedule since his birthday.”

[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

Chizome Akaguro x Chiropractor Reader

Chizome x GN!reader

Warning: back and joint cracking

Word count: 553

His posture is some of the worst out there. The way he perches on building tops could make hawks blush.

Really it's due to multiple bad injuries that never healed properly. But it's not like villains have health insurance.

So rather than going anywhere to get treated and risk being turned over to the cops, he just puts up with it.

But he does suffer for it. He's almost constantly in pain, and his bad posture is only making his injuries worse.

When you try to help he's skeptical at first. He will not let you talk him into going to a physical therapist. And he refuses to see you at work. But he will relent and let you work on him at home.

You have him lay down flat on the floor. As he stretches his legs out infrount of himself you both hear a loud crack from both his hips.

You give him a look before stating that his hip flexors are too tight. He rolls his eyes but lets you continue.

You pull one leg over, rolling his hips, and you haven't even put any pressure on before he's cracking like a fist full of dried pasta. Finally you twist his spine and you swear that all your neighbors heard that crack.

You let him relax and he looks mortified. You look at him and just smile while wondering how he can still walk.

After doing the other side with similar results. You flip him on his frount. Running your hands up and down his back, you finally feel the true extent of the damage. You know full well that he needs more help than you can give him. But you do what you can.

Gently but firmly you push on the muscles on either side of his spine, from the top of his pelvis to the base of his shoulder blades. And now for his neck.

Flipping him back over, you hold his head in your lap and gently run your hands over the nape of his neck. You can feel all the damage done overtime, your heart aches, but you press on.

Gently adjusting his head you find the perfect spot and twist. The sound is so loud that people down the block turn to figure out what that was.

Chizome shoots up and holds his neck. You ask if he's OK, and if you hurt him. But he assured you that he was just startled. Honestly you were surprised he even got startled after all he's been through.

He slowly leans back into your lap and you do the other side, much to the same effect. Again he shoots up holding his neck. Again he insists you didn't hurt him.

Pulling him up off the floor, you find that he's at least an inch taller. Asking how he feels, you can see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He won't get too emotional, but his pain is so much better he could almost cry. Almost.

You'll show him some stretches and exercises for him to do, and of course you'll do adjustments as needed. Over time he does feel better.

His posture is never perfect, and his body has suffered irreparable damage that even surgery couldn't fix, but he's getting better. And he loves you for it.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Igor Bobic at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON ― Last month, GOP presidential nominee Donald Trump surprised almost everybody in the nation’s capital by floating a plan to require insurance companies to pay for the costs of in vitro fertilization for women who need it. On Tuesday, Senate Republicans blocked a bill that would do just that. It’s the second time in recent months that the GOP has filibustered the Right to IVF Act, Democratic legislation that, in addition to ensuring insurance coverage for such treatments, would also enshrine into federal law a right for individuals to receive IVF treatment as well as for doctors to provide it.

The vote fell largely along party lines, 51 to 44, short of the 60 votes the bill would’ve needed to advance. “Republicans want people to think they support IVF because they know how unpopular that position is. They want to keep their true agenda hidden from the public,” Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) warned during a press conference on the steps of the Capitol. He was flanked by his Democratic colleagues, who held up large photos of families who have used IVF. Democrats initially forced a vote on the bill in June after a ruling earlier this year by the Alabama Supreme Court that declared that frozen embryos can be considered children. IVF providers in the state responded by ceasing to offer services for fear of being held legally liable if embryos were destroyed. The GOP state legislature later passed a bill extending liability protections for IVF providers.

Republicans have insisted since then that they support IVF ― even if some in their evangelical base are opposed to the treatment ― as they seek to appeal to women voters ahead of November’s elections. “We are going to be, under the Trump administration, we are going to be paying for that treatment,” Trump said in August when asked about IVF. “We’re going to be mandating that the insurance company pay.” Republicans have long opposed insurance mandates (spending years railing against the Affordable Care Act’s individual mandate, for example), and few in Congress expressed an interest in the former president’s suggestion. Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), a Trump ally, said flat out he wouldn’t support it, while others voiced concerns about the cost of such a proposal.

Republicans, many of whom claim to support IVF protections, voted to block the Right To IVF bill from advancing on the Senate floor.

The only two GOPers who did vote in favor were Susan Collins and Lisa Murkowski.

This vote is why Republicans cannot be trusted to deal with IVF in a serious manner.

See Also:

The Guardian: Senate Republicans block bill to ensure IVF access for second time

Daily Kos: After all that talk, Senate Republicans block bill to protect IVF

[joideka]

To Attract Blue Eyes and Ivory Bone (Centaur Swap!Sans x Reader)

This was requested by a lovely anon! I was super excited to get a request so I decided to jet this out real quick! I already had a character in mind too!

This is part of a bigger project called the Conservatory! A secret land facility that studies and treats mythical or hybrid monsters, either for release or for general study. Warnings: Mentions of blood, minor injuries, you are hunted in the first bit

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

You were officially and unofficially screwed. 

Already the image of the report was coming into your head, the analytical method of how each paragraph would be formatted tormenting your brain. 

Y/N L/N, Junior Zoologist 

- Killed In Action while filling in zoologist position for specimen Dust. - Usual zoologist for Dust was pulled from location due to legal issues outside of organization - L/N was found in [LOCATION], with- 

You cut yourself from imagining the description of your own death. 

But really.... 

What else was going to happen? 

You stumbled over rock and turf, dust springing up behind you as you scrambled down the mountainside. The angry roars of Dust echoed from behind your back, a chorus of screams, growls, and yowling. 

It was certainly motivating you to keep running. 

Run. 

Run. 

RUN! 

The ground started to turn springy underfoot as the landscape changed from dusty rocks to green fields, long grass scratching at the tears in your legs as you kept running. 

The facility was a long way off, but if you could catch a patrol, you had a chance to live, a chance to get free. 

Really though, it was your fault.

You shouldn't have tried to press Dust, to try and do his physical when he had made it very clear he didn't like you. 

That purple and red eye light slit with hate and fear, a warning growl as he backed into his cave, wings outspread. 

He had even tried to warn you through riddles and tasteless puns, but your serious nature hadn't take it, well, seriously. 

Now, you were reaping the cost. 

Dust was no one to trifle with- the sphinx was a fierce hunter, able to  glide from mountain to the flat plain you were now on- fast as a lion too. You had the advantage of your team trying to tranquilize him, but judging from the fact you could hear his screams of rage from above indicated that they had had no luck. 

The only other being that Dust couldn't run downhill very well... 

But you knew better than to think that would stop him. 

After all, like you had mentioned to yourself earlier, he could gli-

...

He could glide.

Glide. 

Glide. 

GLIDE!!! 

You turned, realizing your mistake when the sphinx dropped from the sky, landing in front of you to pat you away with a single paw. You cried out in pain as your back hit the ground hard, your head knocking against dirt as you rolled. 

Your hands grasped the dirt to find purchase as you tried to crawl, feeling the sting of the dirt in the scratches already placed in your legs from an earlier swipe. 

A paw slammed into your back, claws barely pricking your skin. 

No room for apology in those eye lights as he turned you over, forcing your terrified eyes to meet his insane ones. 

You hoped your life insurance payout was good enough for your family to have a nice little boost on their savings, because you weren't coming out of this one alive. 

Dust raised his other paw, claws longer than your hand sliding out as he raised it above your head. 

You braced yourself for the pain, knowing he wouldn't be merciful in your torment. 

A battle cry, a neigh, a scream really, echoed from behind you as Dust's skull snapped up, the crest of feathers circling his neck and head flaring in warning. 

A shadow blocked your vision as hooves slammed into Dust's chest, knocking him away, stamping around you angrily, but being cautious enough to avoid your body. 

You knew that dappled grey body, patches of white surrounded by darker hairs. The elegant white tail flicking with anger.

Admiral stamped above you, his hooves nearly the size of your face as he glared down Dust. The feathering on Admiral's legs was fluffed, intentionally or unintentionally, you didn't know, even if the zoologist in you was freaking out.

Dust snarled angrily, a strange language pouring out his mouth as he seemed to yell at Admiral. 

Admiral snorted, answering in the same strange tongue. This went back and forth, with Dust trying to get closer and Admiral whinnying angrily, stomping.  Dust sprang forward, but Admiral was ready, turning to back kick Dust, forcing the sphinx away from you. This happened several more times, Admiral refusing to let Dust get close to you.

In the end, you knew who would be the victor. 

Unlike Dust, who kept himself low to the ground, and only stood at full height at around 7 ft, Admiral towered at a staggering 9 ft, his torso helping to add to his already immense height. That, and Admiral had the advantage of actual arms, not legs like Dust. 

Dust growled, but slunk away, back up the mountain. He seemed very disgruntled, giving you one last hate-laden look before disappearing.

You let out a wheeze of air, as Admiral stepped back carefully, looking down at you. 

Admiral was a centaur, affectionately nicknamed Blue by some of the younger scientists. Admiral was his chosen name, but he answered to both. 

You opted to be polite and call him Admiral. 

"Thanks, Admiral," you sighed, taking a deep breath. 

"Are you alright, human?" Admiral adjusted his footing, looking nervous. He, or at least half of him, was Percheron, and his torso, starting at the hip bone, was all skeletal, thin and elegant. The pristine bone was admired by every zoologist or doctor in the facility, as it was carefully maintained by the centaur. But he did have an image to fill as one of the longest-standing residents here at the Conservatory.

"Yeah.. just... processing it all." 

"Dust really doesn't like you," Admiral observed. 

"Gee, you think?" You couldn't help but snap. 

Admiral either didn't notice or didn't comment. 

"Where's your squad?" He asked, tilting his skull. "You should be with them, not down here.. or they should be coming down soon. Are they taking the normal route back down?"

You always forgot how much more intelligent Admiral was from the rest of the monsters here at the Conservatory, excluding a few others. He lacked that monstrous quality that scared so many, instead holding onto a clever and witty manner that charmed many who met him. 

Or so you had heard from others, namely gossipers in the barracks. 

You had met him only once, officially, as he was one of the few allowed to roam around the Conservatory unheeded. The only thing inhibiting him from restricted areas was the shock band on his wrist- an unhappy necessity, as your supervisors had described, rather sadly. 

You had seen him several times as you would drive past the main field where the centaur herd resided, waving politely, the centaurs often greeting you back. 

"Probably on the main route down..." you winced as you sat up, feeling the pain in your legs.

"Oh, are you hurt, human?" Admiral knelt onto the knees of his front legs, bending his torso to plant his hands on either side of your body, inspecting. His eye lights widened when he saw the damage. You craned your head to look as well, slight panic blooming when you saw the red of blood streaming down your legs onto the grass. You couldn't see bone, which was the one good thing about this situation.

"You need medical help," he exclaimed, his skull turning to yours. From this angle you could see little dark freckles on his skull, like the Percheron pattern had sprinkled onto his face as well as his horse body. 

"I know, I'll just wait for them to get down here.. I'll radio them over." 

"No time." His hands scooped you into his arms, pulling you and himself up as he stood. You gasped, resting several feet in the air, held securely in Admiral's grip. 

"Whoa! Admiral, I'll be fine, I swear-" 

"Nonsense," he snorted. "If Hunter or Dust smelled you again, they are not above finding you and making sure to finish the job."

You couldn't prevent a shudder at the mention of the resident naga, or of Dust. 

He began to walk, careful not to jostle you as he strode through the grass. You watched the landscape, before turning to look at him, the zoologist in you examining him. His bones, as you suspected, were clean and pristine, the monster magic in his body sustaining the hardiness of the material. They had the small dark freckles there as well, the bone not quite as white and pure as you had suspected. They were more of an ivory color, slightly more dark than his dappled horse coat.

His rib cage did press against your torso a bit harshly, digging into your own flesh as he seemed to tense a bit, feeling your stare.

"Is something wrong?" He asked. 

Part of you felt a bit puzzled. He wasn't anything like how the others described him... not as bold and boisterous as was often complained (affectionately.)

"You're not as loud as the others said you were," you commented, tilting your head. "And it's puzzling that you would help me." 

Admiral laughed. It was a strange noise, half human, but with a whinny mixed in. "Come now, you don't believe all the gossip that goes around, do you?" 

"I-" 

"And frankly, it's part of my job to assist the humans of the Conservatory. I don't play babysitter to the other centaurs all day long. Besides," He paused, a slight blue flush crossing his cheekbones. 

"I saw you and your team going up to Dust's area and knew that something was probably going to happen. Dust is a.. fickle monster." 

"Tell me about it," you grumbled. 

Admiral laughed again. You took the opportunity to study his eye lights, half fascinated by the color. 

His eye lights were slightly translucent, the blue color faded through, a ring of white within the blue. They swam brightly within a pool of black, slightly glowing with in the interior.

That blue rivaled the sky itself, brilliant and curious, inquisitive, and... 

Oh, he was staring right at you. 

"Well, thanks anyway," you crossed your arms a bit. 

"You're very welcome," he answered. "As for loud, I can be, but I'd rather not when you already seem in a delicate situation. Ah, here comes my handler." 

You turned to see a sleek grey horse gallop up, a human riding barebacked. She had a cowboy hat on, a long braid falling down her back.

"Admiral?" She asked warily.

"Espe, you know I prefer Blue when it's the herd and you." 

Espe rolled her eyes. You knew this woman, one of the few to have lived here longer than three years. She had been Admiral's handler for two of those years, having experience with riding and horses. She looked tough enough for the job. You wondered if she had worked with any other monsters here in the Conservatory.

Belatedly, you realized that she must be also the lead mare of the herd- something you had read about in Admiral's file. The lead mare was an important part of centaur life, and Espe had been assigned the position after Admiral became the unofficial leader of the centaur herd. 

"You need assistance?" She asked you, eyeing your legs. 

"Yeah, just a simple patchwork till I can get back to the barracks. I might need stitches..." 

Espe nodded. "Right, we'll just jet back to the outpost to give you that patch job." 

Admiral steadied you in his grip as he strode into a canter, following Espe. The outpost was a tall weather station in the middle of the Conservatory plains, hosting the weather analysts and the 'stable', a term for the structure that hosted a medical station, showers and other items for the upkeep of the centaur herd. 

Admiral strode into the stable, ducking his head as he knelt again to place you on a couch. He then rose, going around to the back of the couch to lay down, his arms and head resting on the back of the couch to look down at you. 

"Can I help you?" You couldn't help but ask. 

Admiral shrugged. "I want to make sure you're okay." You hummed, choosing not to comment or think too much into his words. It didn't help that his eye lights dragged up and down your body, as if examining every single inch.

Espe walked up with a first aid kit, breaking the odd tension. "Blue, would you mind not ogling our visitor?"

Ogling? 

Espe made a shooing gesture at Admiral. "Go on, scram." 

"It's okay if he stays, I don't mind," you quickly broke in. Both looked surprised... 

Before Admiral's expression melted into one of soft gratitude and.... 

Adoration? 

Before you could comment, Espe was peeling away your bloodstained trousers. 

You hissed, before a skeletal hand came to pet your hair.

Admiral comforted you, playing with your hair as Espe worked on your legs. She was quick, finishing her work, before leaning back and patting your shoulder. 

"Nice job, kid. You'll heal up nicely.." 

She paused.

Then spoke to Admiral. 

"Blue, mind giving us some space?" 

Admiral looked mildly upset but not surprised, standing to trot outside. His eye lights met your eyes before he closed the barn doors, respecting your space. Espe turned to you, her eyes flickering up and down your figure, like how Admiral had done so recently. 

"Know how to ride a horse?"

You frowned, perplexed, and a tiny bit addled from the pain that had shot through your body.

"Yes? I mean, I'm not good, but I could learn... why?"

"Would you be interested in becoming lead mare of the centaur herd?" 

You stared at Espe. "What gives?" You finally asked. Was this a bad joke?

Espe shrugged. "I'll be leaving here soon, I have a job opportunity outside the conservatory.. and Blue likes you. The board was considering replacing me anyways for a natural lead mare, and you, so far, fit the category of meeting Blue's standards."

Confusion bloomed in your mind. "What are you talking about? I thought you-" 

"Assigned, not chosen. A natural lead mare dynamic is one chosen by the lead stallion. You obviously have caught the fancy of Blue, so you would be a good candidate." 

"... Are you wing-manning Admiral?" 

Espe laughed. "Yes. He would never admit it, it's not in his typical language to do so. Centaurs have very different expressions of love." 

"Whoa..." you couldn't process this. The fact that Espe was hinting, or downright telling you, that Admiral fancied you was a concept and an idea that never occurred to you but in your craziest of dreams. 

"I know it's a lot to process, but I'd rather ask outright." Espe patted your knee. "I know it can be daunting, the thought of a monster liking you.. happens more often than you think. Speaking from experience." 

Espe winked at you as she stood. "A patrol will be done to fetch you in an hour or two... perhaps you want to get more acquainted with Blue, er, Admiral before they arrive?" 

You considered, but your mind was made up...

"I wouldn't mind that... can I call him Blue?" 

"I think he would really like that." 

And just like that, beaming blue eye lights were once again staring into yours, a broad grin on Admiral's- no, Blue's face as he eagerly began to ask you questions.

____________________________________

Fact Dump!

Admiral is the stallion of the Ebott Conservatory Centaur Rehabilitation Program (ECCRP). He works in conjunction with his brother Marshal (Honey). Both took on human-like names to work better with humans. Admiral is a permanent fixture at the Conservatory, being the most docile and the most trained in helping centaurs adapt to living alongside humans.

The program focuses on teaching centaurs basic English, and human skills. They are working to have Centaurs recognized as a sentient species, since they are the most easy to communicate with. That's not saying the centaurs are better than the rest of the monsters at the Conservatory.

Admiral runs a small herd, patrolling his land. Centaur herd dynamics are close to that of a horse. A chosen lead mare, with a bunch of mares. There are 10 mares and 2 stallions besides Admiral. Mating is forbidden in the Conservatory, unless approved, by Blue, the lead mare, and the board.

The lead mare is a human, Espe (my OC!). She has been working with Admiral for two years, and was selected by the board, not Admiral. She is looking for a replacement, one chosen by Admiral to instill a more natural dynamic. She rides a horse to get along with the other centaurs.

Thank you so much for reading! You can also find this story at my Ao3!! writefromtheheartandsoul!

[weaver-radio]

As a radio show host, you probably have heard an infinite amount of stories. Would you be interested in telling me a story of your choice in exchange for a custom garment?

Sincerely, Ariadne.

@orbweaver1010

Why I would love to, after all I do admire your work, truly.

I have a story in mind, a recent one at that. 

There was a woman, being driven home by her partner, the two having left work for the day a few minutes earlier. 

The car radio plays a radio show called ‘Weaver Radio’, it’s one she’s heard about in passing and it sounds familiar but she can’t seem to place it, unaware that she’d heard the name in a few statements before.

The host seems to be talking about identity theft but she cares not to pay attention to it. But then suddenly a song plays, when did the host stop talking?

‘The Stranger’ by Billy Joel plays. The woman turns to her partner to see if he noticed the oddness, but he seems to be paying it no mind, and so does she.

Soon, the car comes to a stop and the woman gets out of the passenger seat. The way to her flat block is not exactly a place to properly park in.

Her partner asks if she wants them to walk with her the rest of the way. She declines, says goodbye, and the two go their separate ways.

As she walks, her mind drifts to the radio show, to the song. How odd the topic being discussed was and how the song almost seemed to match it in a way. Then she wonders why she declined her partner’s offer? she would usually enjoy the company and chat with him.

Then, she gets a feeling, like she’s being watched by something. She gets that feeling a lot at her work but she’s typically used to it, yet this feeling is from something else. She knows it is but doesn’t know what.

Her pace quickens, as she types a post on her shared blog, just as safety insurance.

She’s being followed, she knows it, yet there is no sound or anyone behind her to indicate that she is.

The woman pauses in front of an alleyway entrance, turns and sees a silhouette of a person? No that can’t be right, can it?

She types and posts again, though she’s cut off by the sound of the silhouette moving, walking, approaching her.

She calls out to it, ‘Who are you?’ she asks.

Then she screams, a terrified scream. She drops her bag and phone, and she is gone.

From within a shadow of the alleyway, A Stranger walks out, wearing the same clothes as the woman, fixing her blonde hair as she does so.

She picks up her phone and bag, types a quick post on her shared blog, a reassurance that she’s fine, then continues walking home to her flat.

Does this story suffice?

[heyitsmetonid]

Lemons Into Lemonade

Word Count: ~1,800

Reading Time: ~7m

Warning: Foul language

Note: Based on one of @creativepromptsforwriting’s prompts. Prompt #74: I’d rather be alone right now.

         Today was the roughest day of my life. Well, maybe not the roughest. I’m being a bit dramatic, I suppose, but it was pretty damn close. Nothing went right! I was on the struggle bus for much of the day. Yet, despite how my day started, it’s definitely not going to end badly now that he’s here.

         First, I kept forgetting things. I had to go back into the house three times after starting my car. Each time I buckled up, I would remember something.

         “Shit! My lunch!” I retrieved it and got back into the car. “My umbrella!” Once again, I went inside the house to recover the missing item and returned to the car. “Oh boy! I left my keys in the house. Can’t leave without those!” I got to the front door and found that the door was locked.

         I’m sure my neighbors were rudely awakened this morning when I screamed damn near at the top of my lungs, tugging the doorknob of my front door more so out of frustration than attempting to enter. I couldn’t believe I locked myself out of my own house. Just as I was about to give up, I remembered that one of my kitchen windows was unlocked. The one above the deep freezer. So, I made my way around the side of the house, opened the kitchen window, and hopped through it. Oh, the regret! I landed on a ladle, an empty soda can, and a fork, the prongs making contact with my left thigh. I hollered and rolled off the deep freezer and landed on a cardboard box I had ignored from last night because I was too lazy to toss it out.

         “Son of a bitch! I need to clean this kitchen!” I said, outstretched on the floor.

         I allowed a few minutes to get myself together and stood up to make my way to the front of the house. As I approached the front door, I saw that my keys were in the door's lock.

         “How in the fuck did I manage that?” I asked aloud.

         I grabbed my keys and locked the door from the outside. I finally got into the car and drove about a block from my house, only to discover that my front driver’s side tire was flat. Carefully, I went back to my house and parked. Instead of calling AAA or my insurance company to address the tire, I summoned an Uber and headed to work. I just couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment.

         Work wasn’t much better. My manager added her workload to mine because she "overbooked" herself. I called bullshit and argued with her, but it didn’t work. I ended up staying two hours past my shift.

When I left, it was pouring rain, so I attempted to use my umbrella to shield myself from the rain. However, the wind had other plans and whisked it several feet away from me, causing me to chase the umbrella around the parking lot as my Uber driver waited for me. Once I got into the car, I was soaked and felt the need to apologize to the driver for ruining his backseat for the following passengers.

         Today was terrible, and all I wanted to do now was relax and drink some wine. On my way home, I texted my friend and told her about my day. She told me she had a bottle of Merlot and wanted to know if I wanted some company. I said no. Honestly, after the day I’ve had, I’d rather be alone right now.

         I hiked upstairs to my room, stripped myself naked to dry myself off, and put on fresh, comfy clothes. A pair of well-worn sweatpants and my old, oversized university T-shirt. I moseyed downstairs and headed straight for the wine bar when I heard the doorbell.

         “Who – did she decide to come anyway?” I wonder with a tight-lipped smile.

         I peek through the peephole to find someone else in a blue raincoat standing at my door.

         “Woo? Hi,” I greet my neighbor.

         Woo Chung Ae is the handsome man who lives directly across the street from me. He’s tall and lean, has pretty brown eyes, and is the gentlest soul I’ve ever met. Truth be told, I secretly lusted for this man. However, I did my best never to flirt because I didn’t want to jeopardize our neighborly bond or make him uncomfortable.

         “Hi, Samantha,” he responds. “I saw you getting out of an Uber and your flat tire and wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you need anything?”

         “Oh, you are so sweet!” I tuck my coily hair behind my ear. “I don’t need anything but thank you. I’m just glad to be home after …” I faltered because I didn’t want to burden him with my tale of horrific events, “… it’s good to be home. Besides, it’s rainy.” I point behind him as if he didn’t just walk across the street through the rain to get to my front door.

         There was a moment of silence between us. Woo always gave me his undivided attention, so I should have known he’d also be very observant and insightful. During this moment, I noticed him unashamedly scanning my body from head to toe, undoubtedly taking in my less-than-perfect but cozy appearance. The heat that spread through my cheeks could probably be seen from outer space!

         “Are you sure?” he questions. “Truly, I don’t mind. It seems like you haven’t had the best day, and you probably need to get your spare on, at the very least, so that you can drive to a nearby shop to replace the tire.” He gives me another once over and says, “Even if you don’t replace the tire today, tomorrow, when you are ready, all you have to do is get in the car and go to the nearest shop.”

         His endearing eagerness chipped away at me. Who am I to turn down my hot neighbor when I’m in need?

         “You know what?” I nod and can't help but smile. "Yes, I could use a little help. Do you know how to change a tire?”

         Woo smiles. My heart stops.

         “Yes, I do,” he answers. “I’ve changed many tires in my lifetime, unfortunately. I just need to grab my tools, and I’ll be right back. It won’t take me long.”

         “Okay. Oh, wait!” I walked over to the wall key holder and grabbed my keys. “You’ll need the car key.”

         “Thank you,” he says as I place my keys in his hands. “Ten minutes tops. Promise!”

         “Okay! Thank you, Woo!”

         I smile and watch him make his way from my front porch to the street to his house. After he disappears inside his home, I close the door and go to the wine bar. I immediately go for the 2020 Jam Jar Shiraz and crack it open, then pour a generous amount into my wine glass. I swirl the dark red goodness around in the glass before I sniff it.

         “Mm! Sweet!” and take a swig. The wine is so delightful. With a bottle in one hand and the wine glass in the other, I make my way to the sofa and flip through the channels on the TV until I find an animal documentary.

         Ten minutes go by, and I hear the doorbell ring again.

         Impressive, if that’s him.

         I peek through the peephole for the second time today, and sure enough, it is Woo.

         “Hey, you! You’re done already? That’s impressive!”

         I step out onto the porch and look toward my car. My spare tire is on, but I don’t see the damaged one anywhere, so I scan the area.

         “It’s in the trunk,” Woo states.

         “I’m sorry?”

         “The busted tire, it’s in the trunk.”

         “Ah!” Seems he can read my mind.

         The biggest smile spreads across his face. “You thought I’d leave it for you to struggle with later?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’d like to think I am a gentleman, so I strive to be thorough and thoughtful.”

         “Yes, and you’ve definitely proved that today. Thank you so much!”

         “It’s no problem at all. I wanted to help.” He smirks and looks me in the eye. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

         “Really?” slips out of my mouth, and I cringe internally to avoid further awkwardness.

"Mm hm," he says, nodding.

         This man is so genuine and kind. He made me feel as if he really cared about me. I decided that I didn’t want him to go just yet. He opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to the punch.

         “Please come inside and have a drink with me. Have you eaten? I am going to order something from Mama J’s for dinner tonight. They’ve got the best soul food in Richmond. It’s my treat.” I place my hand behind my back and cross my fingers.

         Now, I know I don’t have perfect vision, but it looks like Woo’s cheeks are starting to turn pink. Poor thing is so sweet and shy.

         “I – uh-“ he stumbles.

         “Pretty please. Let me thank you.”

         “I – I would love that,” he nods. “Thank you.”

         I grin from ear to ear as I walk into the house with Woo on my heels. I hang his raincoat up while he takes off his shoes. Then, I take him into the living room and gesture toward the sofa, letting him know he can make himself comfortable. We both have a seat, and I point to the bottle of wine and the TV.

         “I was watching this animal documentary and drinking some Shiraz. We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.” I reach for the remote.

         Woo holds a hand up to stop me. “It’s fine. I like animals.”

         “Oh, good. Also,” I reach a shaky hand for the wine bottle, “do you like Shiraz? I have other wines and some liquor. I’ve got whiskey, gin, some white wines, and other red wines.”

         He grins. “I’ve never had Shiraz before, but I’d like to try it.”

         Now, I’m standing in my messy kitchen in front of the wine bar, grabbing a wine glass for my fine-ass neighbor, who I’ve had less-than-pure thoughts about plenty of nights, sitting in my living room. My heart is racing, so I need a second to calm myself. Act natural, is what I keep telling myself, but who am I kidding? I typically have such a hard time hiding my feelings. Hopefully, he doesn’t read me like a book and run away. Maybe he’ll realize what’s up and feel the same way. I don't know, but there's only one way to find out.

Author’s Note: This isn’t the best, but I like the overall story. Besides, I need to get my confidence up and start really putting my writing out there. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read this, and as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are welcome.

  Toni D

Dividers by @cafekitsune 💜🖤🩷

Visit my bookshelf to read more!

[skippyv20]

Our Prayer List🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is suffering from anxiety.

Prayers and good thoughts for Joe and family.  It has been decided that Tuesday 6am Central Time in Indianapolis, Indiana he will undergo surgery to have a LVAD put in his heart. His last open heart surgery he flat lined 45 minutes into the surgery and was kept on machines for 5 days til he came awake, and then had to go back under to continue the surgery. So he is frightened.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has arthritis in her ankles and feet.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend Ann.  She had bowel cancer, they missed her 5 year checkup and when she went for another minor operation her scan showed the bowel cancer has now spread to her liver so she is classed now as Stage 4 (terminal) cancer.  Prayers also for her dear grandson and his mother.

Prayers and good thoughts for my friend who suffered broken C5C6 in a freak home accident.  She has complete loss of her hands, and can only stand with an apparatus.  She has a very long journey ahead of her.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter, who has many health issues and is feeling very overwhelmed.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who suffers from anxiety and has terrifying nightmares that she fears may be back.  Praying for peace in her heart and mind.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend.  Her dermatologist has started her on rosacea treatment.  If she doesn’t see results in two weeks to a month she will need a biopsy.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother  (Spain) who had vascular bypass in an effort to save his leg.  The surgery was a success.  Please pray for a quick recovery free of complications.  He is doing so much better.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend.  She was her father’s caregiver until his passing and now is her mother’s caregiver.  She is feeling very overwhelmed and is having difficulties with her family.  She struggles with her faith at times.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s nephew who is mending a broken heart.  We pray he meets his special “one” and finds love.

Our friend needs prayers.   I found out in February I have uterine cancer. I am having trouble to get all of my doctors approval to get the DNC and hysterectomy. The DNC is scheduled for June 19th. My Cardiologist in Texas would not approve the surgery. Because of the divorce I had/ have no place to live. My sister, God Bless her, has taken me in, in Indiana. The struggle I continuously have is my health. I have been hospitalized at least 8 times since January 10th. I black out and fall- and ended up with a broken back. They discovered cancer, and I continue to battle my water pills and my potassium levels. So please pray for my heart, and my kidneys. Please pray I can find new doctors here in Indiana. My doctors in Dallas will no longer help me. Pray I can get 3 years of Cobra insurance in the divorce. Please pray I don’t have cancer. And please pray God will show me why I am still alive. My 2 daughters have blocked me in every way, and have told my sister to take care of me when her husband is dying of heart failure. I pray I can save enough to pay attorneys, and my health needs. Thank you so very much for all the prayers. Losing a husband of 33 years and both my daughters all at the same time is a great trauma in my life right now. I pray they will come back to me. And please pray for my sister and mom who are taking care of me.

Our friend’s BIL can barely eat and is exhausted. He has to strengthen his heart muscles, so he can have heart surgery. They have not scheduled it and won’t until they are sure he will survive. He died on the table his last open heart surgery and was in a coma for 2 weeks, so he is understandably scared to have the surgery. Please pray for him and my sister.

Our friend is mourning the loss of her mother, and facing financial problems.  She is very overwhelmed at this time.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend that is struggling with faith.  She feels God isn’t with her.  She is lost and frightened and feeling alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband is very, very ill.  Prayers for the whole family.  They are facing many obstacles for healthcare at this time.  Her husband’s pancreas is all but dead tissue but it keeps swelling and then going down, this has caused his liver to start failing.  He is facing many medical issues. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s friend and her daughter and her husband.  The daughter has lupus, and risked her own life to have a baby as she so wanted to be a mother. Their little son was born prematurely weighing 500 grams on Friday and sadly he died on Monday evening. They are absolutely heartbroken.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s former sister in-law and brother in-law.  She was diagnosed with tongue and throat cancer in January and in March he was diagnosed with lung cancer.    Also for their 2 daughters who are taking care of them.  

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is mourning the passing of her beloved mother.  Prayers for her mother’s journey home

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend.  She is suffering from an anxiety and fear.  She is in desperate need of another job, and is worried about her finances.  She is being bullied and stalked.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby Roy’s family as they mourn his loss.  Praying for them to have peace and to feel God’s loving presence as they continue to mourn.

Prayers and good thoughts for our dear friend, who is suffering from severe back pain & pain in other hip

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been facing many trials, and is in need of prayers. The last 18 months have been hard, and things still not what they should be.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family friend who had a stroke. His right side is paralyzed, but he has some sensation.  He is very down at this time.  He will now face new trials because of his condition.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s family member who we pray will join AA.  We pray for success.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is in financial despair.  She is really struggling as she has no one to turn to in real life.  She is out of work, and there are no jobs to be found.  All of her savings are almost gone and she is afraid she may lose her home.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has severe iron deficiency and the treatment is very harsh and makes her sick.  Her husband has been unfaithful during her illness and her family is ignoring me. She feels very alone.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has been battling depression long-term due to trauma and the resulting difficult circumstances. 

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s daughter who is struggling.  She is in much pain mentally. We prayer for her family as well as they try desperately to help her.

Prayers and good thoughts for Baby James and his heart brother Matthew.  Also their heart brother Conrad