#doesn't reflect the UK

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Unlike the rip-off, *Inspector Spacetime* never went to the trouble of creating fake snow for holiday specials.

It actually better reflected the reality in the UK during these warmer times.

[moralesmilesanhour]

pretty

hobie x reader

summary: you wake up with a nasty hangover. you know the rest.

wc: ~500

A/N: if I'm using UK slang wrong pls beat my ass about it I tried 💀

Edit: made minor edits bc I did, in fact, use UK slang wrong 👍🏾

The light from the morning sun bounces off of the peeling white paint on the surrounding walls of the tiny apartment, forcing you to open your eyes. You squint as they adjust; It feels like someone is currently inside your head and repeatedly taking a sledgehammer to your skull.

The familiar cracked corners of the ceiling tell you that you're at Hobie's place. You grunt as you lift yourself into a sitting position, which doesn't help the headache.

What does, though, is the smell of cinnamon and cornmeal wafting beneath your nose from the kitchen. The sudden rumbling in your stomach makes you curious enough to swing your legs off of the couch and rise to your feet.

Bad idea.

Hobie enters the room just as you stumble backwards onto the couch, and barely holds back a loud cackle so that he doesn't drop the two bowls of porridge he'd just made.

You don't see it, of course, because the ceiling is currently spinning.

"Not so fun dealing with those fourteen shots the morning after, eh?"

Hobie's diamond-shaped face came into view, his wicks sticking out from every direction like the halos in those medieval paintings he liked to make fun of. He'd replaced his vest and usual get-up with a white tank top.

You groan, "How long was I out?"

" 'Bout twelve hours,"

Hobie set the two bowls down on the coffee table in front of you. "Had to call a cab just to get you here all in one piece."

You finally look down once you feel the couch sink next to you. He smells of hard soap and nutmeg.

"You cook?"

He shrugs, picking up his bowl and shoveling the contents into his mouth. He nods, deeming his work satisfactory.

"From time to time," he glances at you from the corner of his eye. "You don't get over a hangover on an empty stomach, yeah?"

He chuckles when you immediately grab your bowl without a word, and soon begin to absolutely destroy it.

Just as Hobie said, the hammering has begun to subside by the time you scrape the last bit of golden liquid from the bowl. He still has yet to finish his own meal, so you watch him.

You silently admire the way his lashes almost brush his cheek when his eyes are downcast. The sunrise reflected off of mahogany-smooth skin, and you envy how he did almost nothing to it to get it that way.

"You're pretty," you think out loud, and Hobie nearly chokes on his porridge before his head snaps to face you.

"S-sorry, who?"

Your brows shoot up on surprise momentarily, unaware that he'd actually heard you. There was no one else you could have possibly been referring to, giving you no choice but to double down.

You laugh nervously, “Well, you are.”

His full lips quirked up at the corners, as if he was trying to figure out if this was a bit or not. But you kept staring at him, no joke in your expression.

“Yeah, I think you’re still hammered, man.”

[wonryllis]

★ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN AS KDRAMA LEADS AND THEIR LOVES.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen on the screen with you 𖥔 ݁ fluff, suggestive LIB? fem!reader requested word count `1715 PLS REBLOG!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ❝ they tried to take what was mine, so i will show them what i have. ❞ jang uk, alchemy of souls.

the forlorn hero cursed by fate to bear the weight of being the most powerful person in the world. and for one that withstands death and destiny; you are the light that embraces his shadows of darkness when he embarks on the path to save the world.

"you look pretty," heeseung eyes glance over your dolled up figure as he enters the room. "well no one's going to notice me anyway, they're all interested in your past lover," you scowl in an adorable pout that tingles heeseung's inner desires to eat you up. "that's why sit where everyone can see you, show them who my actual bride is," his fingers reach out to hold the side of your face in a gentle caress, gaze locked with yours, the atmosphere heaving with tension. "then i'm going to wear the family ornament," he hums inching closer,"then i'm going to tell them we get get along very well," he hums again, nose brushing against yours,"then i'm going to brag that you light up the path for me at nigh-" this time heeseung's lips find yours in a tender kiss, sucking softly almost in a nibble as he pulls away in a moment,"show me off however you want, i'm all yours," because he's sure you are his light in the dark.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ❝ even if other people say it is not, if you say it is love, then it is love. ❞ lee jun ho, extraordinary attorney woo young woo.

the secure and dependable soul who is left navigating through a love that confronts the pitifully vile sides of society. and for who wishes to be the one for you; you help his muddled worries come to the ultimate realization, to love and to fight for it till the end.

"jay, can i.. touch you?" jay is dumbfounded at your words, frozen at his spot for a momentary instance," he looks at you trying to avoid to his gaze,"i want to check whether i like you in that way," you clarify and jay curses his tainted mind for going places they absolutely should not be going. "oh, i see," it takes a few seconds for it all to sink in, and as soon as he does he's approaching you in a confident stride. "can you only check by touching me?" one step forward, one step back. "i need to see if my heart races—" caging you with your back against the couch, hands on each side,"so your heart doesn't race if we're not touching?" jay whispers, grinning at your eyes looking everywhere but him. "even when you're with me, doesn't your heart race?" his own heart pounds hard in his chest, just being with you has him weak,"that's disappointing," breathing fast as he leans in. you test him against all that he has ever known.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 ❝ does my dream have to be success? can't it be a person? ❞ nam do san, start up.

the ridiculously gifted and capable protagonist on his journey of growth, struggling between reality and dreams. and for one whom love, self worth and truth is conflicting; you provide an elysian abode of validation and acceptance of who he can be despite everything.

"a rainbow doesn't make your wish come true," jake smiles to himself, fiddling around with the pebbles at his feet,"it's just light reflecting and refracting," looking up he finds you staring at him in a sulk. "so you're not going to pray? because you don't believe in it?" your words are one of sorrow albeit you hardly sound upset and more in spirit of challenge. "there's no objective evidence," though he'll admit he'd take every chance he could to make a wish about you, even if it's superstitious. "let me show you then, evidence," you pull him by his collar into a messy, sloppy kiss, one that takes his breath away,"see, i prayed i'd kiss you and i did," his cheeks warm up at your bluntness,"you're the one who kissed me, the rainbow has nothing to do with it," "just the way liking you has nothing to do with reasons to like you, i like you because you're you, you're my reason" you make it so easy to fall in love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ❝ even if my feelings for you make me insignificant and weak, you are my fate that i cannot defy. ❞ jung gu won, my demon.

the immortal infernal superbeing caught in a web of events that go against his very existence, piercing through the root of his beliefs. and for one whose emotions have been shut for the longest time; you open the doors of his hell, where his throne shines for you.

"is this what you're trying to get?" sunghoon's figure presses into your back as he reaches above you to bring down the book from the shelf,"my demon guide, really?" moving to the side he leans against the tall furniture, waving the heavy book in your face. your eyes fall to the exposed skin of his torso, toned chest and glistening abs, staying there a second too long,"ay ay ay, you pervert!" sunghoon immediately pulls his loose dress shirt together buttoning it up in a hurry as you look away. "why are you here anyway?" for once you have been the first to come to him. he feels something is wrong with him to be so elated over a mere thing like this,"i was just worried," you make him feel human, you make him feel vulnerable, you make him want to rewrite the stars with you. "about you," it is scary yet it feels like a kind of freedom that relieves him of a load he never knew he carried.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 ❝ if you really want to express something you will find a way. ❞ ha yi chan, twinkling watermelon.

the ever merry fellow, overflowing with a shinning soul and a sparkling heart, choosing to see only the bright side of everything. and for whom shortfalls have been a sign of misery; you show him a new world where flaws exist to give meaning to what you have.

"here, i got you a cat," sunoo gestures to the cat snuggling in his arms, getting closer to let you pet it. "i was worried you'd be bored alone," he speaks slow, moving his fingers just the way he practiced as you take the little fluffball from him,"i made sure to pick out a kitty that looked like me," he points and when your eyes crinkling into an adorable smile, sunoo feels all his efforts of learning to communicate with you to be fruitful. "a name based on your face?" he questions when you talk about naming the cat,"do you have a name like that too?" he never thought there'd be a time when he'd sit with you in the woods like this, talking in a language of your own as you taught him how to call out to you in a way only you two would understand. there was so much beauty in silence and he only realized it now,"that's a pretty name, i will call you by that from now," the simplicity of life he forget, you remind him.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ❝ i'm a terrible liar and i don't have the ability to fool the one i love. ❞ kim do ha, my lovely liar.

the honest yet constantly condemned guy doing his best to fall back into the rhythm of life, having lost the last hopes of happiness. and for one who has always been doubted and criticised; you bring reason, to survive the dark into victory.

"lie to me," jungwon looks up from his bowl of soup, bewildered at what you ask of him,"what?" he mumbles slowly, trying to make sure he heard you right."just once please? try telling me i'm pretty," the insistent tone of your voice persuades docile jungwon to give in, brown eyes gazing at you in a dazed stare. one that lasts a little longer than a moment necessary,"you're pretty," and it's not a lie, you are so much more than just pretty in his eyes, it could never be a lie,"of course, i would say you're pretty," when jungwon looks at you he sees love in a new light, he sees all these positive emotions in a new light. in a light that gives him hope of escaping the hideous cage his mind has him trapped in. "because you really are pretty," he returns back to eating, trying to avoid the flush of butterflies he feels in just that one acknowledgement. it had been years since he felt them, such a normal emotion of love.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ❝ when you miss me, you can go to a bookstore and see me in a comic book. ❞ kang chul, w two worlds.

the tragic struck, defined by his past character thriving into a position of power and influence to uncover the truths of his comical life. and for one that battles against injustice, fictional between dimensions; you are the key to his long awaited peace.

"this one looks good on you, you should get it—" your hand slaps across riki's cheek in a snap making everyone in the room gasp in horror. to be hit like that out of the blue, riki should have been outraged, instead all he felt was confusion but not so much as to end the chapter. "what, is it?" he asks, his brows raised in question. "why am i getting slapped for buying you clothes?" stepping closer to you,"t-that, i'm sorry—"your lips crash against his for a fleeting moment before you rush off into the fitting rooms leaving everyone in shock. riki's fingers linger over the spot you kissed, feeling his heart skip multiple beats for some reason. you are pretty for sure, but you're also idiotic in way that attracts him out of pure amusement. he knows you don't belong here, and he knows it'll be reckless to try and find your world, but you make him feel there is a way out despite all obstacles and absurdities.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[theorahsart]

Hello, apparently it's Banned Books Week and I wanted to say something about it.

It's makes me sad that my book has become one of MANY to be banned in libraries. It doesn't affect me much personally or financially, but its scary/worrying because Ive been watching this ripple effect over the last few years, it's a reflection of increasingly visibly hateful attitudes in recent years, and we're starting to see similar protests against books and libraries here in the UK, along with the transphobic and queerphobic violence against those trying to stop these bans.

Pls help to stem misinformation. Pls go to protests. And support authors of banned books/share their books with teens and kids who might no longer have access to them!

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

----

To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

[mistydeyes]

what's in 141's pockets and bags: simon "ghost" riley edition

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊

In Ghost's denim jeans and leather jacket pockets, you can find this collection of items. He carries the bare necessities with him and keeps all the extra items (loose change, paracetamol, lighter, random tea bag) organized in an empty Altoid's tin. Although some of his items have been "decorated" by a certain Sergeant, his items are a reflection of his stoic, serious life.

an extra black face mask - never goes anywhere without an extra! it helps to be prepared

airpods pro + case - a bit of a splurge but he likes the way the ear buds fit in his ears rather than the original airpods. plus they're noise canceling!

paracetamol - for the constant aches and pains when he’s off duty

cigarettes - similar to the mask, simon always has a pack on him. he’ll cynically laugh at the warnings all uk packs have before he takes one out. he smokes marlboro golds like all hot people do :)

a lighter - constantly is losing them, probably picked this up at the convenience store last week and when he let soap borrowed it, got it returned with stickers that he can't remove

cash - despite having a wallet, he mostly uses his card but for the off chance he needs cash

earl grey tea bag - not sure when this ended up in his pocket but he keeps it just in case

iphone 11 - a phone that functions well enough is good for him, he doesn’t need a fancy camera or all these gadgets (bonus: he does not have face id turned on). when he wasn't looking someone added a ghost sticker and for the life of him, he can't remove it

same black leather wallet he's had it for years and still uses it even though he should really get a replacement

credit cards - simon doesn't have one but two cards, he doesn't buy much but his credit score is amazing from his frugal spending and well paying position

military id card - one of the only items where you can see the real simon riley's face (no one has seen this card before)

altoids can (empty) - he keeps most of his items organized in the case (the earl grey, loose cash, paracetamol, and lighter)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊

link to Part I - Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

a/n thanks for all the love on the last one! by popular vote here's what's in ghost's pockets :) next will be soap and finally we'll end with everyone's favorite captain!

[iid-smile]

acne , suo hayato

x gn!reader ! the reader has acne and pimples, you and suo are in an established relationship, reader is kinda lactose intolerant, not proofread

author's note: im not even lactose so idk where milk came from??? but anywayz, uk weather sucks, the economy sucks, my sleep schedule sucks, so i wanted something i could relate to a lil yk?

"go away..." you mumble into your pillow, cuddling it impossibly closer to your body.

"it's concerning how you're not going to school, love. you never skip." suo's had remains on the door handle, but he doesn't make an attempt to open it. "are you that sick? should i get you medicine?"

"'m fine."

well, now he knows you're not. "i'm coming in, okay?" he calls out to you, opening the door at a painfully slow pace so you still have time to object. yet, as he expected, you don't, your figure still on the bed. with a quick glance around your room, he makes his way to the edge of your bed. "talk to me. you trust me, right?"

always such a tease, this guy... "don't say something like that right now."

he chuckles, taking a seat. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry. i thought you'd enjoy the inside joke." it's silent for a while, and a small shift of fabric catches your attention. "can i see your face?"

"no!" your response was instant. "i mean... no, no... i don't– mh..." that small sound leaves your lips as you seem to run out of things to say, wrapping your legs tighter around your pillow.

"why not? is there something wrong?" a gentle hand comes up to touch your hair, but it only ghosts over the strands slightly before pulling away. "bruise, rash, infection? any of those?"

"no..."

suo doesn't like to pry, but he knows that if he wants to get an answer out of you, then he's going to have to work for it. "i don't see why you won't let me look at you. is there something else?"

"yes, there is!"

"but you already said no to what i listed. nothing could possibly be wrong." 'or at least something i'd have to be worried about...' he thought to himself. his voice becomes more audible as he leans closer to you. "right? can i please see you?"

"don't say please like that either!"

"it's only good manners." the feigned innocence in his voice was evident.

"sneaky bastard..." you mutter, sitting up a bit. "fine. but don't be disappointed with what you see."

once you lifted your face from the pillow, suo was half expecting you to look completely different, but you just looked like... you. "huh?"

"it's bad, right?"

"what's bad?"

"do you not see them? i thought the spots are obvious..." you pick up your phone that was beside you and open up the camera. "even the smaller ones."

"oh, those?" so now he's just realising them? the pimples that were literally burning on your skin and were so big you could see them through the screen of your phone when you woke up this morning? "what's wrong with acne? it's natural."

"i don't like them, suo. don't wanna get mad fun of at school..." you poke and prod a bit at your skin, but not too much in fear of irritating it more. "messed up my skin all 'cause i wanted some cereal and hot chocolate at night. and then sat on the toilet for another hour. i seriously hate genetics."

"you still look pretty."

your mind was itching to give him a deadpan expression, but you knew he actually meant what he said. he's only ever honest with you, after all. "you're blinded by love, huh?"

"maybe. but you had me so worried you broke your nose or got a wisdom tooth pulled out." slowly, he places one of his hands over yours that was resting on your lap. "i'm not going to force you to go if you don't want to. but you really don't look any different, believe me."

"i don't know..."

for a while, suo just analyses your expression. furrowed eyebrows, pouted lips, and you're avoiding eye contact, busying yourself with your reflection. as much as you appreciate his kind words, it couldn't really make up for your before and after transformation, and he knew that. "face masks and cucumbers then?"

as he expected, your face immediately lit up. "really?!"

"really." finally, a genuine smile returns to his face, and he stands up. "you stay here until i get back and don't touch your face. we're going to have a full self-care and skincare session together."

he really does get you, even if it's something you'd never thought he'd do with you.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[dduane]

...This ebook sales promotion is going to go live in various places starting tomorrow evening, but I thought I might as well drop it here first. :)

Briefly—you can get 20% off all the ebook bundles at Ebooks Direct through this weekend. Which means the prices drop like this:

The Feline Wizardry Bundle (3 books) drops from $11.99 to $9.56

The LGBTQ Pride Bundle (10 books) drops from $18.99 to $15.20

The All The Wizardry Bundle (19 books) drops from $38.99 to $31.20

and the Whole Store Bundle (35 books) drops from $69.99 to $56.00

So there are two ways to get at the discount:

(a) Use this link to get at the Bundles page at Ebooks Direct. The link has the discount baked in. Pick a bundle from there—don't forget to click on the format you want first, they're right below the price—put it in your cart, and go to checkout. You'll see the discount reflected in the price there.

Or: (b) Click on one of the links above, put the bundle you want in your shopping cart, and on the checkout page, add the discount code 20OFFBUNDLES to the box that says "Add discount code here." Then finish your checkout.

These come with all the usual stuff. Everything's DRM-free; we replace your files for free if you lose them or switch platforms. And when you buy an ebook from us, you own it. We're old-fashioned that way. (And pleased to be.)

UK friends, please note: as usual, we can't sell to you any more because of the Brexit paperwork. We're so sorry about that.

For those who stop in to take advantage of us: thanks, all! (And if you feel like reblogging this for other people's attention, we'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance, if you do.)

*Oh ffs, Ith still has his Zabar's bag, doesn't he. (headclutch)

...Never mind, I'm leaving it there. Knowing those two boys, they'd probably stop in for pastrami on the way home anyway. (Or somewhere closer...)

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 11 - Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none really... a little bit of kissing interruptus.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is a slightly transitional chapter after the seismic events in Chapter 10. Our couple have no regrets but cannot get time alone as our intrepid trio journeys to Aubrey Hall. Yes, here beginnith our latest trope: secret relationship! Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Portsmouth, UK, September 1939

Waking up in Benedict’s arms for a second time is a thoroughly different experience, a handsome smile creasing his face.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, and you feel it buzz in your cheekbone resting on his pectoral.

“Good morning,” you whisper, tilting to kiss his lips.

You want to burrow into his warmth, his naked body, curl around him like a vine. Forget the world; just exist with him here in this warm cocoon. His hand slides up your back, pulling you snugger into him as you kiss - languid, sensual, tongues touching, a stirring you can feel between your legs and in him where your thigh is draped over his lap.

Just as you are about to get lost in this, in him, there is a rapid-fire knocking on the door.

“Wakey, wakey, lazy bones! Let me in!” Eloise’s voice calls, muffled in the corridor outside.

You both swing your heads towards the door, then back to each other in almost comic unison, jumping apart as if burned, exchanging panicked looks as you scurry out of bed.

“Give me a minute,” Benedict grouses loudly for her benefit.

Then, there is a flurry of hushed movement as you fling open suitcases and rapidly throw on the nearest clothing. ‘Bed!’ you mouth, signalling for him to help. You work together in unison to make the bed, not to the point it doesn't look slept in, but certainly not the tangle of sheets from tumultuous lovemaking that it was. Belatedly, you realise you should have put a makeshift pile on the floor as if he slept there.

It's less than a minute from when you were naked in each other’s arms to Benedict opening the door to Eloise, you on the other side of the room attempting nonchalance. She wanders in, looking blissed out but also a little worse for wear, an apparent hangover clinging to her edges as she retrieves a hairbrush from her suitcase. You want to ask how her night was, but her frown stops you. 

“Doesn’t look like anyone slept on the floor…” she comments suspiciously as she pulls up to the mirror. 

“I am, in fact, capable of tidying away blankets and pillows after I use them, sister,” Benedict sighs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window. “It is what I was doing when you so rudely woke up half the hotel, in fact,” he lies.

Eloise sticks her tongue out at him in the mirror, which he roundly ignores.

“Your brother is a true gentleman,” you defend, staying intentionally vague, standing behind her and using the mirror as well to touch up your appearance. 

It's your turn to receive the Eloise look of scornful derision before you steer to a new, safer topic. 

“So, how was your night with Phillip?” you tease affably.

“Oh, he’s wonderful,” a wistful look claiming her face. A secret little smile you have never seen before. “We had such a memorable night.”

“Aaaand I don’t need to hear this,” Benedict deadpans. “I’ll see you ladies downstairs for breakfast…” is his parting shot as he heads for the door. 

But as Eloise leans down to grab a hairpin, launching into a whole story, he winks at you in the reflection, and your heart skips a beat.

——

“So, ready to party your life away in London?” Eloise chirps as the train trundles through rural Hampshire a few hours later. “It's not Paris, but it will do….”

“I thought we were going to your country home?” you frown.

“Well, yes, for a few days. But we can head back up to Bridgerton House for the weekend,” Eloise grins. “Phillip might be in town by then….” You chuckle at her lack of subtlety. “And we can find you a nice man!” she adds.

There is a scrunch of a newspaper diagonally across from you as Benedict’s grip tightens on the broadsheet he is holding, his face wholly obscured behind it.

“Oh, I don't know..” you attempt to laugh it off. “I think I might give that whole party lifestyle a rest.”

“Nonsense! You are not really a married lady, you know,” Eloise withers, rolling her eyes. “And you can take that off now,” she nods to your ring finger.

“Oh…” you fumble, touching it instinctively, the soft lamplight within the compartment making the gold glint brightly. “I thought it safer to wear it while we are still in transit,” you bluff, knowing Benedict is paying full attention to your conversation now, even as he hides behind The Times.

She frowns. “You have your residency now. The British government will not bother tracking you down with this war effort. You could get divorced tomorrow, and literally, nothing would happen,” she opines imperiously as if suddenly an expert on immigration matters.

“Better safe than sorry, Eloise,” Benedict pipes up, folding down the paper and removing his reading glasses with that lecturing elder brother air. His ring catches the sunlight as he does, making something bloom in your ribs to see it.

Just as Eloise goes to dispute it, her face instead lights up from the passing trolley service. “Oooh, snacks!” she exclaims distractedly, craning to look out into the corridor, allowing you to smile your thanks softly at Benedict unseen. His responding lopsided smile has your stomach vaulting.

Then Eloise is on her feet, chasing the attendant that rumbled past your compartment, apparently keen for refreshments. As soon as she is out of sight, you reach a hand across to him. He leans forward and grasps it with both of his.

“We will have time alone at Aubrey Hall, I promise,” he whispers earnestly, his eyes imploring, bringing your hand to his lips and making you stutter as he brushes warm lips over the back of your fingers.

“I want to touch you, Benedict…” you confess ardently, “all the time. So very much…”

His face is a storm of bridled intensity at your words, his pupils dilating rapidly. “As do I….” his words impassioned, even as his expression clouds wincingly, and you know where his thoughts have slid.

“But, Eloise…” you nod, understanding, reluctantly withdrawing your hand and sitting back, a tingle still on your fingers from his lips.

There is no way either of you wants to raise what is happening or what has happened yet. Neither of you is sure of anything except this magnetic pull between you—yearning to be together, alone.

“Yes…” he sighs, pained, slumping back into his seat just as the lady in question twirls back in, hands full with Cadbury's bars and a Fry’s Peppermint Cream.

“I thought you hated Peppermint Cream?” Benedict frowns as Eloise hands you both a Cadbury and immediately unwraps the Fry’s bar for herself, taking a big bite.

“I may be reassessing its merits,” she sniffs before leaning in to whisper to you, muffled around her mouthful. “It’s Phillip's favourite,” she divulges before staring dreamily out the window.

You have never known Eloise to change her mind about anything in the time you have known her, especially not from a man’s opinion. You just shrug at Benedict, conveying your equal surprise. Clearly, this one might be a serious contender.

—

Walking the connecting overhead path to Waterloo Junction for your onward train to Kent, you are startled when Benedict grabs your hand and places it into his coat pocket. You soon realise in the glass reflection ahead that the swish of the open fabric means the connection of your hands is unseen. 

Your heart pounds in your ears as you walk beside Eloise, her none the wiser as your palms grip each other, fingers laced. When you glance up at him briefly, you see the ghost of a smile at the corner of his lips, but he keeps looking ahead as if nothing unusual is happening. 

You want to kiss the little dimple right there at his sheer genius.

—

The onward leg only takes an hour and is filled with amiable chat, mostly about books and films. Soon, you are alighting the train at a charming rural village stop, the platform ablaze with neatly potted late summer plants of reds and yellows.

But you are struck with a sudden wave of nerves as a sleek car awaits you. You are not long away from meeting the rest of the Bridgerton family. Strictly, your family now too.

“Does anyone know?” You ask Eloise as the driver loads your cases into the boot.

“Know what?”

“That Benedict and I are married…?” You spell out, surprised she didn’t follow your train of thought. 

“Oh. Well. I didn’t call or telegram,” she twists to look at Benedict as he places your day bag on top of his. “Did you tell mother?”

He scoffs. “God, no. Not something I could begin to explain over the phone.”

“So what do we say? Or do?” You ask, subconsciously toying with your ring.

Benedict walks over and places comforting hands on your shoulders. It takes all of your willpower not to lean into him. “Don't worry. Follow my lead. I don’t think we can or should lie.” 

Less than a minute into the car ride, you sandwiched between the siblings, Eloise’s eyes flutter closed, face lolling against the glass. You signal to Benedict, and when he twists to see, his hand grabs your kneecap, fingers wrapping around and caressing the ticklish skin near the crease at the back of your knee. Something about this stolen moment is exciting, elicit, and endlessly arousing.

“I cannot go more than an hour in your presence without wanting to touch you,” he whispers, leaning close, his words a hot gust into your ear that has you melting.

“Same,” you murmur back, your hand sliding over his, mapping the raised veins with your fingertips, memories of the last night tumbling through your mind, those strong hands running over your naked flesh, grasping. It makes your breath hitch audibly.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice is a honeyed rumble that makes every hair on your forearms stand on end. He probably knows, but you confirm it anyway.

“Last night…” you mouth, turning your face into him so his lips brush your cheek. His grip tightens, and his breath rags into your hair.

“It's all I have thought about since…” he confesses; your chest flutters as his hand slides a fraction higher on your leg, playing with your hem. Every fibre of your being is calling for him. You want him to keep going, slide all the way up your thighs and touch you… but Eloise stirs, and instantly, his touch is gone, and you are left bereft. 

—

To call Aubrey Hall a country house is ridiculous. Your jaw drops as the car sweeps up a long gravel driveway to an enormous, handsome pile of a manor estate.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you smack her arm lightly. “How rich are you!?”

She laughs. “What, that my brother is a Viscount doesn't give that away?” she guffaws.

“Well, I thought maybe it was an honourary title or something…” you mutter, feeling slightly embarrassed you don't know the full ins and outs of the British aristocracy you have clearly married into, entirely without knowing.

“Don't be intimidated,” Benedict soothes. “We are just a large family who inherited a big pile. I promise we aren't stuffy or cold.” You want to squeeze his hand for being so empathetic and reassuring.

“Or inbred!” Eloise cackles as the car stops, and you notice a beautiful, elegant middle-aged woman waving from the steps.

“Our mother,” Benedict elucidates before Eloise throws the door open and jogs up to hug the lady, who looks overjoyed to be reunited with her daughter after months away. You can tell Eloise is happy, too, even if her joy is more understated.

Benedict is by your side when you are out of the vehicle. A pillar of support, even if not touching you.

“Mum…” Eloise pulls her down the steps. “This is y/n!”

“Oh, it's wonderful to meet you!” the lady greets, pulling you into a welcoming hug that smells lavender and lilac. “I have heard so much!”

“Same!” you chime back.

Then it is Benedict’s turn to hug her; you swear there is an extra glint in her eye as if he is her favourite. However, you notice he keeps his left hand in his pocket throughout.

“Thank you for bringing them back safe, darling,” she reaches up and pats his hair affectionately as if he is still a child, not a grown man in his late twenties.

“We would have made it home perfectly safe without him, mother,” Eloise gripes with her trademark mettle.

“Eloise Bridgerton, you would have absconded to Saint Tropez if your brother were not there. Don't even lie about that,” Violet chides lovingly, and you can't help but giggle.

“Don't take her side!” Elose decries.

“Come on, it's true,” you laugh, bumping her gently with your shoulder as you walk in through the doors.

It is a beautiful stately home, but at the same time, it seems less imposing on the inside; it looks lived in and loved. A house that is full of family and life.

“You will meet the rest of the family later today,” Violet advises. “Well, minus our brave Viscount, who is in London with Churchill, and Daphne, who lives with her husband.”

“And Fran,” Eloise adds.

“Yes, Francesca is staying with her cousins in Bath,” Violet counsels as she guides you into their parlour.

“She’s barely my sister,” Eloise jests, dropping onto a sofa and grabbing a glass of water from a carafe on the coffee table.

Violet just shoots her an exasperated look while offering you a seat, too. “Eloise told me you were engaged, not already married,” Violet addresses as you get comfortable.

Benedict springs from across the room. “Ahhh, about that….” he placates with his left hand aloft.

“Is that also a ring I see on your finger, Benedict Bridgerton?!” Violet splutters.

“Mother, I can explain….”

And thus, he recounts the events of the last few days. Violet listening intently, looking, in turn, shocked, dumbfounded and proud. Of course, Benedict omits the whole part of the fact you are together romantically. Well, sort of. You think. You are dying to be alone with him so you can talk. Or perhaps do other more exciting things. That idle thought makes your cheeks flush.

“I am so very grateful to your son, Viscountess Bridgerton,” you jump in as much as to steer your own wayward thoughts away from dangerous waters. “Without him, I would likely still be stuck in France, all alone.”

His eyes dance with warmth as you glance at him, wanting to grab his hand and lace your fingers. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Violet has the most intrigued look as she observes her son carefully—the all-knowing eye of a matriarch.

“Well, I am so grateful you are safe, my dear,” she turns to you. “And please, for goodness sake, call me Violet. You are welcome to remain with us as long as you need or desire. You are family now, after all. At least for as long as you wish to be considered such,” she concludes, seeming to choose her words very carefully.

“Thank you, Violet,” you murmur, so grateful, already feeling a warm glow from her hospitality. “I could not be more honoured to be here for as long as you will all have me,” your eyes drifting back to Benedict as you say it.

The tender look on his face makes you touch your wedding ring idly with your thumb, and your heart leaps as he does the same. Although you swear you can feel the weight of Violet’s stare as you do so.

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[matan4il]

Daily update post:

On Friday, there was yet another Palestinian terrorist attack. Terrorists started shooting at Israelis near a yeshiva, and as security forces gave chase, an explosive device was set off through remote control, which shows just how sophisticated some of these terrorists are getting. Seven Israeli soldiers were injured. The explosives were homemade, and I heard one estimate that if they had been "proper," the number of casualties would have been much higher.

Friday was also International Women's Day, when we asked people to remember Israeli and Jewish women, including the ones still being abused by terrorists in captivity. Here's a small round up of a few related global events... In South Africa, Jewish women marched, asking their president and government to condemn Hamas' sexual violence, protesting against the extra burden of proof demanded of Jewish women. Similar protests were held in other places around the world, among them in front of the UN headquarters in NYC. Following an Israeli request, the US, the UK and France have asked the UN's security council to have an emergency session on the UN report regarding Hamas' sexual crimes, Israel's Foreign Minister and the families of the hostages are meant to attend. But maybe the most poignant news come from the Norwegian capital of Oslo, where protesters holding up signs in support of the Israeli women held hostage by Hamas were barred from participating in the International Women's Day March by its organizers, after other participants of the march were physically stopping the group supporting the kidnapped Israeli women.

Biden's recent MSNBC interview, where he's said that "there has to be another way to deal with the trauma caused by Hamas," has managed to piss off even left wing journalists here. I'm gonna pass along what one said... Biden doesn't get it. We're not fighting in Gaza to deal with trauma, this is not the equivalent of going to therapy. We're facing a terrorist organization that massacred us, rules an entire strip of land, and has turned it into the world's biggest base for terrorist activity, turned its 2.1 million people population into a human weapon, and if there is another way to make sure Israeli civilians are safe by destroying Hamas, with less casualties on the other side, let him present it in practical matters. So far, all he does is to give the vague, abstract, "Israel needs to do better," which is not a practical plan of action, and it's especially condescending, when we don't actually have historical examples of any country doing better during fights conducted under the conditions created by Hamas in Gaza.

I have written about the incident in northern Gaza, where over 100 people were killed in a stampede, as they were storming humanitarian aid trucks. It was a complex situation, in addition to those who died from the pushing and trampling (something we've seen in lots of tragic disasters around the world, which were by no means a massacre, such as a fairly well known stampede of Liverpool soccer fans), apparently some of those who died, were ran over when the (Arab) truck drivers were scared and tried to drive away from the mob, while a small number of suspicious people advanced menancingly on the soldiers. An IDF investigation report confirms the Israeli soldiers only fired at this smaller group, suspected of being terrorists, not at anyone else, and certainly not at the aid convoy itself. Of course none of this complexity was reflected in any anti-Israel propaganda posts, which labeled this a massacre. But now the size of the stampede has been confirmed as well, which in itself says a lot about this tragic chain of events: no less than 12,000 (!) Gazans were storming those aid trucks. Given the size of that crowd, it's almost a miracle that not more people were killed. Just compare the Liverpool fans stampede, where the size of the involved crowd was smaller, the situation less complex (no moving trucks or terrorists around), and the number of fatalities was practically the same, at 97 people killed.

This has got to be one of the worst things I've heard since Oct 7 brought new focus to the antisemitism problem on American college campuses. One of the morally clearest voices against this Jew hate has been a Jewish Israeli professor at Columbia University, Shai Davidai. Now apparently the uni has started an investigation into him, instead of... IDK, learning from the criticism he has raised regarding their failure to address antisemitism. They sure are doing a great job, showing Jews they're listened to and cared about, and protecting Davidai's freedom of speech, that last line of defense that all the college presidents fell back on when they had to address why calling for the genocide of Jews is not considered bullying or harassment on their campuses.

This is 100 years old Yocheved Gold (on the left, obviously).

Yocheved was born in 1923 in Germany. In 1936, as a Jewish teenager who was mistaken for a Christian girl, and despite her fear, she refused to hand a bouquet of flowers to Hitler at the Berlin Olympics. Two years later, at the age of 15, she was among the last Jews to flee Europe before WWII. She managed to make it to the Land of Israel, which saved her life. On Oct 7, she was in kibbutz Sa'ad, one of the southern Israeli communities attacked by Hamas terrorists. Eighty years after antisemites first forced her to flee her home, she had to do it again, and is maybe the only Israeli evacuee to be over 100 years old. Now she has returned to kibbutz Sa'ad, even though most still haven't (as they don't feel safe from Hamas), because she said she doesn't want to die away from home.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[inchidentally]

Lando's eyes always sparkle when he looks at Oscar and it captures my heart every time. You can see that Lando likes Oscar very much and his eyes don't even hide it. God, their relationship is so intimate that sometimes it's hard to watch without feeling like a third wheel. Oscar, I don't know how you did it, but as a Lando fan, I'm grateful that I get to see this version of Lando every time he's around you.

straight up anon, the shift in Lando when he got a teammate who exists on the same natural wavelength as him has been a thing to behold ??

like, Lando is someone who goes through life looking for romance and he so easily gets a crush on anyone who populates his world with something special or beautiful. that's what has made Oscar such a unique relationship for Lando because Oscar doesn't consider himself or his life at all in the world of romance or fantasy. he considers himself extremely practical, "low frequency" and enjoying the simple things in life. he's not at all a typical heroic figure like Carlos or a big camera-ready personality like Daniel. Lando's interest in Oscar has been a slow but steady curiosity that has grown even without Oscar initiating a joint hobby or going on outings together or playing up a bromance for fans. Lando was definitely a little unmoored by the lack of all of that for a while!

the only two aberrations in Oscar's calm and cool are his pursuit of F1 and his fascination with Lando, which we know to have been intertwined as early as him moving to the UK at 14. there is serious romance in the way they ended up as teammates and major drama of Oscar's determination to get that seat.

but! then there's Lando saying how he sees them as similar to each other back in July 2023! bc Lando had always used self-mockery to interrupt his moments of earnestness and in a lot of ways was always striving to be Just A Guy to fit in with the guys in his life. his creativity would pop out very occasionally but mostly he became known for being naturally funny and able to click with just about anyone by matching their energy and adapting to their humor. he even took great pride in The Lando Effect - which ironically was more about Lando changing to suit Carlos and Daniel, who he has almost separate versions of himself with. he was the baby brother as always, wanting to hang out with his older brothers and wanting to fit in.

and then he gets Oscar as a teammate who seems content to just stay back and watch Lando and observe Lando and learn everything about Lando he doesn't already know. who seems to have no limit when it comes to handling the full range of Lando's personality and never tells - or even jokes - that Lando should change a single thing, even when it directly impacts Oscar. Lando doesn't have to match Oscar's energy and it turns out! they both like it best when Lando doesn't try!

which is when we started seeing lando.jpg reemerge and 7 podiums and a new hunger for even more and higher expectations of himself and a calmer, more authentic - less cartoonish - Lando on camera in challenges and social media. he even said how Oscar taught him by example the importance of "keeping calm and being yourself". of course silly, fun Lando is still there! he's still little brother to Carlos and Daniel and George and Alex! but those are now some of the many facets we've gotten to see in the past 14 months!

the winter break was a revelation because Lando spoke to fans solely through his camera lens and the reflections of the beautiful world he saw as he traveled. no goofing, no pretense, no corporate. his chosen pose for all his photos was partly in fun, partly symbolic of his confidence that he didn't need to sell these photos as selfies for them to blow up all over social media.

and all the while Oscar was quietly on his own down time and training, liking Lando's posts and saying "you went everywhere!" and listening to Lando recount it all.

then Lando came back to work this year and everything about him wore a new sheen of beauty and romance to it, including him having grown more beautiful. he's used his beauty more consciously when modeling and even LN4 and Quadrant took on a more stylized look. his new McLaren contract announcement was an entire aesthetic complete with a short film.

like, obv this whole post is me going off on a whole stupid thing but just. Lando was always meant to live his life in a unique way and he was always meant to see things through romance and art and music. he wasn't supposed to apologize for enjoying racing as a means of attaining perfection one day. and there's Oscar who reflects back to Lando all the quirks and things that make Lando unique that he's memorized over the years, listening to Lando's music in place of the usual silence in his own driver's room, helping Lando navigate unknown food and new lengthy words and knowing when Lando is comfortable to take the lead in public speaking and when Lando needs Oscar to step in and handle it. pushing Lando all the time as a teammate and the whole friction creates the pearl analogy.

idk it's just not as huge a leap as I thought last year to say that Oscar's comfortable, placid life has long had a splash of color in it at last in some part because of Lando and that Lando has become the most authentic and brilliant version of himself at least in some part because Oscar is there to always appreciate it.

like this little moment of Lando giving Oscar a nickname and Oscar finding it the best thing he's ever heard and Lando's half-stunned and delighted smile at being able to do that to Oscar is just all of that distilled:

Oscar's confidence has returned and he's smoothing over the awkward PR duties while Lando is relaxed and confident and the little quips like this just come so naturally. (the way Lando actually wriggles in his chair with delight over Oscar's reaction !!) like, Lando doesn't have to try ! he doesn't have to try to be anyone but himself ! there's someone here at work with him all day and every day who is delighted by him no matter what !

and what's even better is apparently! now that they both understand and exist on that wavelength together, they've returned from winter break circling around each other and looking for each other more than they ever have <3

[simpingforcys]

New addition to the collection! Villains Slipcover Case for Disney's 51th Animated Classic, Wreck-It Ralph. A whole slipcover dedicated to King Candy, it's so BEAUTIFUL<3

Had to get this from a UK eBay auction because Amazon had it for $50+ USD. 🫠 He's so GORGEOUS in the slipcover even if it's just his default image, I love him so much. Camera doesn't do it justice, but his eyes and jacket are reflective in the art. And there's a mini version on the side! 🍬

[saintmeghanmarkle]

William and Harry meet again at the funeral of Lord Robert Fellowes. Harry was able to go to the UK privately without problems. by u/Human-Economics6894

William and Harry meet again at the funeral of Lord Robert Fellowes. Harry was able to go to the UK privately without problems. A family friend, who was at the event, pointed out that William and Harry were at the funeral of their uncle, Lord Robert Fellowes. https://ift.tt/xYk0g9o both arrived separately, sat separately, and arrived discreetly. Which is very rare in Harry's case. But this totally contradicts the position of certain journalists such as Daniela Elser who accused William of not being adult enough to tolerate the presence of his brother, following Hugh Grosvenor's wedding. Well, William is adult enough to tolerate Harry's presence, but he has no intention of talking to him at all.Now, Harry with this continues to ruin his own appeal for safety and also his own whining. If he is able to travel privately, without even the press finding out, to go to a funeral, he could travel to the UK for any other reason without needing extra security. The press is not going to follow him every step he takes, as he paranoidly believes.But, if this apparition is true, there is definitely no way for Harry to force William to change his position. William doesn't want to talk to him, William is going to ignore him if he runs into him, and that must make Harry furious. post link: https://ift.tt/r2wZSRn author: Human-Economics6894 submitted: August 29, 2024 at 11:44PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[rashfordxbruno]

"Today, we female fans of Manchester United are demanding that the club to abide by their duty of care towards their female fans and employees and demonstrate a zero tolerance approach towards acts of violence against women by refusing to bring Mason Greenwood back into the squad."

"The situation is clear - taking Greenwood back legitimises and normalises sexual assault and domestic abuse. It tells other players, and the men and boys that look up to them, that abusing women is acceptable, without consequence, and won't affect you or derail your career."

"It also tells us, as women, that we don't matter. It tells female MUFC employees that their employer is happy to make them work alongside an abuser, and tells hundreds of thousands of female fans that supporting the team we love involves supporting men who abuse women like us."

"It tells us that our safety doesn't matter, our experiences don't matter; that the 1 in 4 women who experience domestic abuse and/or sexual assault in the UK don't matter. It tells us that men who make the club money matter; not us, our fellow fans, mothers, sisters or daughters"

"The club has launched all sorts of initiatives in recent years to allegedly promote inclusivity and diversity at the match, but "All Red All Equal" means nothing if the rights of those who have perpetrated gender-based violence are more equal than those who have lived through it"

"We know there are currently multi million pound PR firms spinning narratives to go along with his potential return. "Repentant father who has turned his life around and just wants to support his partner and child." "Young genius who made a mistake but deserves a second chance.""

"Threatening your partner with sexual violence isn't "a mistake", it's deliberate, targeted abuse. The lockdown parties and police warnings were apparently "a mistake", getting dropped by England and sent home from camp for breaking the rules was also apparently "a mistake"."

"The problem here isn't a player who has "made a mistake", it's a player who has consistently demonstrated an attitude of extreme arrogance, entitlement and exceptionalism; and who has shown nothing but disregard and contempt for what it means to represent this great club."

"Everyone makes mistakes, but not everyone does so while in the position of power and privilege Greenwood is. If you want to play at the highest level at the biggest club in the world, your behaviour will be held up to the highest level of scrutiny, accountability and expectation."

"The decision of senior management at MUFC regarding Greenwood's return will tell us fans everything we need to know about their ability to run this club, and about whether they have any genuine willingness to listen to, engage with, and support fans on issues that matter to us."

"Is this club for them just a vehicle for commercial success, trophies, sponsorships and revenue? Or do they genuinely share our vision of Manchester United as a great institution that exists as a place of belonging and community for those who care about its values and traditions?"

"We are calling on the club to do the right thing. For their fans, for their employees, for the millions of young boys and girls across the world who look up to our players as heroes and role models, and the millions of women whose lives have been blighted by violence and abuse."

"To the decision makers at the club, remember; this goes beyond football. This decision is a reflection of you, your morals; of who you are as individuals, and as humans. Will you stand with abusers, or with the abused? History will judge your choices. Make sure you choose well."

[wejustvibing]

There's loads of different reasons. In the past, or earlier in the year, it's been through making relatively big changes. So, you change the mechanical balance between high and low speed, for example, by a good chunk or you do big camber setup changes or you do just a ride—rear suspension or the front suspension heave unit—for example. The last race was like 'I love the car, don't change too much.' The really, really small changes that I made. But one of the components, as I said before, did completely opposite to what it was supposed to do. And we didn't find out till the end of the day. So, that day we're then trying to like... I got in the car on Saturday morning and I was like 'I've got massive understeer. This doesn't feel normal.' And they're like 'It should be fine. We set it up normally.' It's not till the end of the day you find out that's not the case.

I think these past couple of days having to reflect on last weekend, it started off so positive, you know, I was in the UK, at the factory doing the sim, which I don't do a lot, preparing, arrived, and first lap I was on it from the moment. And then all of a sudden it just slipped through our fingers. And it was a miserable rest of the weekend. And you can put it down to so many different things. But we all care so much, everyone's working so, so hard. So I think, more so it's coming into this weekend and we're just gonna give it absolutely everything. And whether it goes well or not, it is what it is. We're in that period of time I think, in the season, where we just gotta give absolutely everything. And if it doesn't go well, not necessarily not given that thing but not letting it beat us down and trying to stay positive. We've got seven more shots at it so we're gonna bowl our hardest. - Lewis Hamilton

[herejusttosufferalong]

As per the anon's ask about the People Magazine and A's insta I did a lil investigative journalism and let me tell you this: it doesn't seem like the common practice to give so many redirects to the instagram profiles of the subject of their articles.

I looked up 3 random & recent "who is xyz's girlfriend" articles and also searched any other People articles about the said gfs and compared them with the ones on Luke and Antonia.

1. Cara Delevingne & Minke: 

https://people.com/who-is-minke-cara-delevingne-8668520 --- only 1 redirect to Minke’s insta

https://people.com/cara-delevingne-girlfriend-minke-second-anniversary-8659081 --- just once, gf’s

https://people.com/cara-delevingne-girlfriend-minke-second-anniversary-8659081 ---  just once, gf’s 

Also I think it’s worth noting that Cara has been a very known celeb and Minke is an artist too. So this is a celebrity couple and they’ve been together for 2 years, yet People covered them only for three times.

2. Usain Bolt & Kasi Bennett

https://people.com/who-is-kasi-bennett-usain-bolt-8385871 --- 3 to Usain’s insta, 4 to Kasi’s x, 3 to Kasi’s insta

https://people.com/parents/usain-bolt-girlfriend-welcomes-first-child-baby-girl/ --  just once, gf’s

This couple seems like they have been together for many years and gf is a known person too, but I could only find these two People articles about the gf.

3. Liam Hemsworth & Gabriella Brooks

https://people.com/who-is-gabriella-brooks-liam-hemsworth-8664644 --- 0

https://people.com/liam-hemsworth-gabriella-brooks-date-night-furiosa-a-mad-max-saga-premiere-photos-8650729 --- 0

https://people.com/liam-hemsworth-gabriella-brooks-date-night-furiosa-a-mad-max-saga-premiere-photos-8650729 --- 0

PS: There are tons of articles on this couple, because, you know, it’s Liam and I think gf is famous too. I just chose these random 3.

4. RJ Davis & Deja Kelly

https://people.com/who-is-deja-kelly-rj-davis-8620790 --- 2 times gf’s insta & 2 tiktoks

I’ve never heard of this couple but apparently they are both basketball players.

5. Luke Newton & Antonia Roumelioti

https://people.com/who-is-antonia-roumelioti-luke-newton-8663182 --- 6 times gf’s insta (lol)

https://people.com/luke-newton-packs-on-pda-with-girlfriend-antonia-roumelioti-italian-vacation-8686426 --- 1

https://people.com/bridgerton-luke-newton-holds-hands-with-rumored-girlfriend-antonia-roumelioti-8662726 --- 1

L and A have been together around a year, and it’s known to the wider public audience for about 3 months now. Yet we have 3 People articles about them.

I also checked the traffic these articles get. 

Usains’s Who is.. Article gets around 1700 organic clicks from the USA, and 700 clicks from the UK

Luke’s Who is.. Article gets around 220 clicks from the USA and around 15 from the UK

Liam’s Who is.. Article gets around 60k organic clicks from the USA and 100 from the UK. 

These are all monthly estimations.

My first reaction when I saw the latest article about A was to think it’s only natural L and her gets covered on media since his popularity has grown massively this year but looking at these insights, I realized that yes he is a lot more popular compared to before but still doesn’t get that much attraction from the general audience, outside of our small fandom.So I don’t know if those magazine/gossip platforms’ goal is to get clicks when they are putting the effort to get these articles done. Also I don’t know much about the entertainment industry and how it works so I honestly have no idea if there could be a deal in place like some people claim.

I should also note that I used a free SEO tool to check these analytics so I cannot 100% be sure that these reflect the correct data but I believe it may give us an overall idea. Please note that these kind of insight tools usually cannot promise real data, they only provide estimations. (here is the tool if you wanna check: https://app.neilpatel.com/en/traffic_analyzer/overview)

These are all just my take :)))

Wow very interesting!

Thank you for doing the leg work and sharing 💜🥃