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targaryenrealnessdarling · 4 months

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It's Who We Have | Part Four

Summary: After Nut's funeral, Billy and his estranged friend share some choice words | Word Count: 3.7k~ | Warnings below the cut!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Warnings: language, mentions of neglect, mentions of bullying and sexual assault, islamophobia

“Take those fucking sunglasses off, you look like a prick.”

Billy winced when he knocked his right hand, bandaged and bloody, holding it close to his body, the other pulling the sunglasses that Paddy hated so much off his face.

“Why didn't you call your sister?”

Billy scoffed, “Like I'm gonna be the first to tell her. She'll find out in her own time.”

Paddy simply sighed from behind the steering wheel, his fingers twitching with the need to say something, but unsure how.

“A fucking Halal butchers? Who put you up to do that?”

Now it was Billy's turn to sigh, “nobody.”

“Oh yeah? Nothing to do with these English Flag-fucking-Crusaders, whatever they're called.”

“Listen mate, please, I don't need this right now.”

Paddy simply let out a frustrated breath, concentrating on now tailgating the car in front of him. Billy slumped in the passenger seat of his friend's car, feeling that Paddy amongst the little remaining group of friends, would be the least judgemental.

Turns out that wasn't true.

Billy resisted to cringe when he heard Paddy's voice on the other line when he'd rung him from the police station, hoping at least that he felt worse than he looked. And he looked pretty shit.

He thought, Lana wouldn't be faring much better.

He could feel the deep, dark judgement and anger seeping off Paddy, in the way he gripped the gearstick and his grunts of annoyance at usual menial things.

God fucking help him if she ever found out.

She'd pretend she didn't want to kill him, but would work on a way to do it in her head before she ever said it.

If he was being honest with himself. He'd had far too much (albeit not as much as Lana) and was angry, upset, annoyed. And he wasn't even sure what at.

At the time, it was easy to be annoyed at anything.

Just so happens the Halal butchers was right in front of him.

“Not told your sister then?” Paddy prodded whilst stopped at a red light.

Paddy was usually so sing-songy in the way he spoke, something carried down through his Irish family. And though he was technically the first of his generation to be born in England, the few times Billy and their mates had gone down to his for drinks, you’d be forgiven for thinking you were right back in the bustling centre of Londonderry, with the statue of Mary placed ceremoniously on the mantelpiece, as well as every shelf in every bedroom.

Not that Paddy himself would describe himself as religious.

Since meeting him in the first year of College, Billy had always tagged him a sort of ‘class clown’. It was easy to laugh when Paddy was around. And whether he meant to or not, he was just funny.

But here, sat beside him, being interrogated very much like he had felt the night before by the police officers who’d picked him up, that aloof, silliness that Paddy most often wore, was nowhere to be found.

“Not yet,” Billy answered simply, trying not to fiddle with the damp bandages around his hand. “You gonna?”

Billy shrugged, feeling as if this were only the beginning of the questions that he was likely to get from those closest around him.

And Paddy need not even say what was on his mind, his fallen expression of disappointment was enough as he pulled up beside Billy’s flat and pulled the handbrake up.

“Get out my fucking car.”

The door opened a good ten seconds after she’d knocked, and when Libby’s bright, blonde hair appeared in the doorway, a phone in one hand, her friend looked nothing short of shocked.

“Come in, just on FaceTime with Ami,” she muttered, ushering her in without question and closing the door, “No, no, I’m still here, carry on.”

“So anyway, this old Chinese lady is like ‘oh my god, I love your hair, you’re so lucky’ but she wouldn’t stop fucking touching me!”

She couldn’t help but grin as she heard Ami’s ramblings over the phone and Libby’s dramatic replies, all while they filed into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“Oh dear, Ami, however will you survive. There’s worse things than people touching your hair.”

“Not fucking much,” Ami answered with a huff, “anyway I’ve gotta go. Hi and bye, misery-guts!”

Libby snickered and turned her phone so that she could at least wave goodbye on the camera. To which she gave halfway between a playful smile and a grimace, and stuck two fingers up at her instead.

Once Libby hung up she snorted, “sarky bitch. Milk, no sugar?”

She nodded, “Yup, please. As long as you’re not too busy acting like a proper sister-in-law.”

Libby scoffed, handing one of her Emma Bridgewater mugs to her and leant back against the kitchen counter, “Abi has yet to pop the question yet, friendo.”

She hummed a laugh, tapping her fingernails against the mug.

“So…you saw him.”

“Unfortunately, yes. At the wake…”

“Jesus Christ. Billy there?”

She huffed a mirthless laugh again, “Unfortunately yes again. Billy punched him in the face.”

Libby cocked her head, a sort of worried grimace on her face, “Cute, I guess? Or stupid.”

The tea burned her tongue, but she was eager to do something to occupy herself, otherwise her thoughts would, “Probably a bit of both.”

“What is the deal with you and Billy?”

There it was. The golden question. An answer she’d like to know herself.

She sighed, “Libs-”

“I mean, you two used to be thick as thieves and then bam suddenly he can’t talk about you anymore. And now that you’re back, which I love by the way, it’s like whenever he sees you he sees a fucking…ghost or something.”

Suddenly Libby’s bright eyes seem much too intense, and she has to look between her feet to get a grip of herself, sighing as she taps her fingertips on the mug of tea she holds.

“Listen I know he’s not always been there for you in the way you needed-”

“It’s not- I don’t know. I always had this feeling like…he didn’t really like me, just tolerated me.”

She doesn't need to look back up at her friend to know there's a sad expression there. And the moment is so utterly quiet, that she can hear the neighbour next door mowing their lawn, both the smell and haze of fresh grass drifting lazily through the air.

It reminded her of Cranstead Fields.

Fuck, why did everything have to circle back to him.

“Billy is a lot of things. Cruel is not one of them,” Libs sighed, “maybe just stupid.”

When they both gave an exhausted and yet relieved laugh, the tension somewhat shifted.

“I love him, Libs. I don't know if I should, but I do.”

Her friend opened her mouth, about to reply or add something. But her lips clamped shut immediately.

“God, you're both insufferable,” Libs laughed, crossing her arms, “you two need to be adults and talk it out. Or do some therapy on the NHS, I know that really helped you.”

She rolled her eyes, “knowing my luck I’d have fucking Becky as my therapist. If that happens I'm face timing you from the edge of a bridge before I jump off.”

“Dramatic.”

“And don't mummy me, doesn't suit you.”

“Suits Abi just fine.”

“Ew, Libs.”

Libby had tried her best to make her feel better, and for that, she was nothing short of grateful. Some good needed to work its way back into her life at the moment. And the way her loving friend deemed fit to lift the mood, with a small glass of white wine, was not such a bad thing either.

In truth, she can’t help but wonder, that if she’d met Libby while she was at secondary school, she likely would’ve walked right past her.

Libby had always been popular, not by some maniacal grasp to preteen power, but through her bright, happy smile, stellar sense of humour and ability to make friends with just about anyone.

If Libby was the explosive, firework-like presence in school, then she was like a ghost, merely living between planes of existence, enough to interact with things and people around her, but not enough to leave any lasting impression.

Or at least that’s what she thought.

They were through the second episode of Gogglebox and nearing the end of the little glass of white when her phone buzzed in her back pocket.

“Hang on, Libs. Lana’s calling me.”

Libs’ head pulled back as if in shock, “what she calling you for?”

She shrugged and pulled the phone to her ear. Lana sounded hurried and stressed, like she was holding too many things in her hands.

“Sorry to call you like this.”

“No, you’re alright, what’s up?”

“Listen, I know you and Billy aren’t exactly on great terms but do you mind checking on him? I was blackout last night and dunno what happened to him.”

“Uh- yeah, course.”

“Cheers. I’ll ping you his address.”

As soon as she hung up, Libby was instantly wide-eyed and nosy, asking a barrage of questions. All the while she tried to give any vague answer she could, scrolling her contacts for Paddy’s name.

“Jesus Christ, who you calling now?”

She held a finger up, “Hiya, Pad. Yeah I'm alright. Listen, you've not seen Billy about have you? What do you mean why am I asking you, you've still got Billy’s live location from that time he got lost having a piss at the club like two years ago, remember? You're my private investigator.”

She shot Libby a glare when she loudly sipped her wine loudly, to fill the silence.

She furrowed her brows, “when you say don't be mad, it insinuates I'm going to be mad, Patrick.”

Libby watched her friend's face fall, nearly losing grip on her phone held at her ear, and a sudden eerie silence when she heard Paddy's low voice on the other end.

“No, I won't tell him you told me, Lana asked me to go check on him anyway. Cheers, bye.”

She didn't spare Libby a look, her body suddenly pent up and eyes aflame. And her friend knew she meant business when she polished off the last slither of her wine before pulling herself up.

“Well?” Libby asked as she watched her pull on her coat hastily, getting frustrated when the zip wouldn't do up the first time.

“I'll tell you later, just know, I want to fucking kill him.”

Year 8 seemed to exist in a realm suspended between the innocence of Year 7 and the weighty responsibilities of Year 9, ensnared in the relentless passage of time. School, once brimming with purpose, now felt hollow, as did much else. Yet amidst the drudgery of daily life, the mundane trek home stood out as particularly grating, a constant reminder of the mundanity that had settled in.

Her mother's refusal to heed the school's advice regarding HPV jabs only added to the melancholy of the year. It was Miss Slator, her form tutor, who provided a semblance of maternal care, just as Mr. Thornby had the year before, acting as a paternal figure. Their concern and support, though appreciated, couldn't dispel the sense of disquiet that lingered within her.

The memory of receiving her first HPV jab during lunchtime, accompanied by Miss Slator, was tinged with discomfort, both physical and emotional. The sharp sting in her arm served as a poignant reminder of her vulnerability, exacerbated by the absence of her mother's reassuring presence.

She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, jumping out of her skin when Billy’s bag slumped down on the spot next to her.

“Is it sore?” he asked, huffing down on the bench beside her, looking out at a group of teens playing footie at Cranstead Fields, despite the looming grey cloud hanging above them.

She rolled her eyes, “course it hurts, you twa-ow!”

It was light, and friendly, the way he punched her left arm, the way all the boys had been doing to all the girls at school after their jabs. But it still fucking hurt.

“Dick.”

Billy smiled boyishly, pulling a bar of chocolate out his coat pocket.

“That for me?”

He nodded, as if it were obvious, “for being so brave.”

“Don’t be sarky,” she scoffed, smiling albeit gratefully and snatching the chocolate from him.

She folded it over in her fingers, the bright purple packaging tempting her to eat it now. And she didn’t say it, but she thought she might save it for later, so that she’d be less hungry if her mum chose to not cook any tea.

It was a sad thought to have, that she might rely on it.

“How is safeguarding,” he asked calmly, not reacting when her wide, panic-stricken eyes turned to him.

“How-”

“Saw you in Mr Healy’s office,” he interjects, pushing the blonde strands of hair off his forehead, waiting for her to say something.

Billy was almost disappointed at her response.

The soft glaze of her eyes, wide and embarrassed, but near longing to lift the weight off her conscience. The way her shoulders dropped to make herself appear small. Crossing her arms, rubbing them lovingly, like she was desperate for some semblance of touch like this.

He saw the bob of her throat and braced himself for those large thick walls she’d built before she even said it.

In that moment, as the crushing burden of her secrets threatened to suffocate her, she found a temporary reprieve in the simple act of confiding, even if just for a fleeting moment. And wanted to, so readily to trust him. Despite her best efforts to fortify her emotional barriers, the ache in her heart intensified, a visceral reminder of the profound yearning for the connection she so deeply desired.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

One could be mistaken for thinking it was early afternoon by the time she pulled up behind Billy's battered Vauxhall, it was still so bright outside.

With a heaved sigh, she threw her bag over her shoulder and locked her car, having to take steady, easy breaths to calm herself as she crossed the road to Billy's flat. Cigarette smoke clung to her clothes as she crushed it beneath the heel of her shoe, the smoke burning in her lungs and the lingering nagging at the back of her head that at some point, she had to make a point of giving up.

With a click, a man in a tracksuit and a cap slid out the door that led to the flats behind the row of shops. His eyes were hidden under a shadow, taking wide, calculated steps as if to place as much distance between him and the property he’d just come out of as possible.

As if being caught doing something he shouldn’t.

A shiver crept up her spine when they passed one another, and his stark eyes lit up under the tip of his cap, peering at her in suspicion.

She couldn’t shake that feeling even as she ascended the stairs to Billy’s flat. The sizzling nerves didn’t even seem to replace it.

Her stomach felt sick with emotion when he answered the door in tatty looking clothes, his shirt pilled up from years of use, hair somewhat greasy and an old, bloody bandage around his fist.

Billy took up the doorway with his height, his arm stretched across it in a gesture of defence. But it seemed as if when he laid his darkened and tired blue eyes on her, she saw him shrink.

“Can we have a word?” She asks, her tone flat in a manner that tells Billy he knows exactly what she's here for. In a manner that was tired, disappointed and saddened in equal measure.

“Fuck’s sake…”

Billy’s flat smelled of mildew, proven by the fact his clothes were still damp on the airer and all his windows were shut with the curtains drawn. His shoes were piled up in the hallway, one on top of the other, clearly favouring a particular pair that sat above them, as if he couldn’t be bothered even with the choice anymore.

He offered her a cup of tea, no doubt in an attempt to calm the rocky waves of panic surging through him. It was clear Billy was embarrassed by the state of his flat, as he glanced at her every now and then to make sure her expression was not one of judgement. The only one he found was one of despair.

Billy looked at his friend as if she was other-wordly. The world he’d made within the tight confines of his flat, did not have space to fit the idea of her inside of it.

His shoulders slumped, and the words that came out his mouth did not seem like his own as he sat awkwardly on his sofa, even that, covered in old clothes and crap. And all she could do was shake her head and peer out through his thin curtains, not able to look at the person she thought she had known once upon a time.

Both of them felt it.

The surge of heat that flooded their veins before an argument.

“I don’t need you to parent me. I’ve had enough of that already.”

She wanted to laugh bitterly at that, but managed herself somehow, “maybe you need it, Billy. These new mates of yours don’t seem to be doing you any favours, do they? Was it their fab idea for you to do it? Hm?”

“Does it matter?” he replied dismissively.

“Can't you see you're being fucking groomed, Billy? Fucking hell, what would Ami and Abi think?”

Their friends.

Did it mean nothing anymore?

“They’re different.”

“Oh, are they? Until they’re not. Until they do something to piss you off and then all of a sudden it’s ‘people like them’. What about their mum? Because fucking newsflash Billy, she wasn’t born here either, you’ve not got a fucking clue!”

He is quiet. His jaw tight, body wound so tight that even she could see his frustration.

“What’s next? Lobbing a brick through Mrs Ahmed’s window?”

He scoffs, his hair slipping off his head as he shakes it, “I fucking hate when you’re like this.”

“Like what? Speaking fucking sense?” she laughs bitterly, “I'm alright with that if I'm the only one holding you accountable!”

“When you’re stubborn.”

Billy needn’t ever shout.

She could sense his deep annoyance in not only his gaze, but his voice.

And she thought with anger in her veins, burning with fury, that what did he have to be annoyed about?

“Who the fuck even are you Billy.”

It came out her mouth without even really trying. She didn’t know if she regretted it or not when she saw his expression. He was still defensive, that much was clear, but in the way he looked at her, it seemed as if he was grasping for something.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asked, almost desperately.

“Because I’m not used to this version of you.”

“Well, sorry Billy, I grew up. I of all people wish we could go back to the way we were, but here we are, fucking adults, avoiding each other like fucking teenagers!”

“There’s no need to shout.”

“Well give me something then!” she exclaims, “something, to let me know you give a shit.”

“Fucking hell, I punched the guy who broke your fucking heart, is that not enough?!”

“Now who’s the one shouting,” she claps back with venom, “And so what, you-”

She stops herself, her face falling somewhat. And when she’s quiet so suddenly, Billy’s bright eyes meet hers, hands clasped and rested on his knees, leaned forward on the sofa as if to appear smaller. His expression is confused and irritated in equal measure.

“What did you say?” she asks in a whisper, blinking slowly.

“I…punched the guy who broke your heart?”

She feels the lump form in the back of her throat, her eyes curiously flitting between either of his, trying to understand what he is thinking without having the courage to ask.

Billy shakes his head, “I mean- is that not what he did? He fucking dropped you like you were nothing.”

Silence envelops either of them for a solid few seconds. So long that it’s suffocating, like the walls are closing in around them for the first time in years. And for a split second, with her eyebrows furrowed in pain and hands shaking, she looks just as she did on the last day Billy saw her at college.

“You don’t know, do you?”

What she says then sends a full-body shiver that begins at the base of Billy’s neck and clatters all the way through his limbs. Blood turning cold immediately.

What does he not know?

He finds himself restless at the idea. That he was perhaps supposed to know something, but irrevocably doesn’t. That everyone else is aware of something so obvious.

He didn’t know it wasn’t just some nasty breakup.

He didn’t know that photos and videos of her in her most vulnerable moments were sent around the school, rumours circulating on MSN, hateful messages scribbled on her desk. And that she didn’t have the courage to tell anyone that the guy who had humiliated her and dragged her name through the mud, still had the indecency to rub it in her face.

He didn’t know that because of what happened, she nearly left school entirely, but that it was so late into the school year, she just waited it out before college. But that those few months, were absolute torture.

Billy never grasped the magnitude of her anguish—the nights spent in tears, the days clouded by despair. The sanctuary of school became a battleground, where every glance felt like an accusation, every whisper a condemnation. Yet, she soldiered on, clinging to the hope of escape, even as her spirit withered under the relentless assault.

He didn’t know that her mum berated her for weeks, even months. Didn’t give her bus money and didn’t wash her clothes, in what she perceived was fair punishment, thinking her daughter had purposely sent suggestive photos and videos to a random boy at school.

She had hoped he knew... but now faced with the daunting task of revealing her truth, she recoiled, sickened by the prospect of laying bare the depths of her suffering.

But in all that, as tears made her vision go blurry, a watery smile lifted to her lips at the memory of when he’d come to her at Cranstead Fields. He hadn’t been pushy and simply accepted that she needed comfort. And a friend. She remembered wetting his school shirt with her tears, and the smell of the detergent his mum used, with jasmine fabric conditioner pods. To which she thought now with delight, that he still smelled the same.

He was like home to her.

Home.

What was home now?

“Oh Billy…” she whispered through a choked, almost bitter laugh, “...it’s sweet…that you did all that just because you thought he broke my heart.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301@jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian@randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen

#billy washington x y/n #billy washington x oc #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington x you #billy washington fanfic #billy washington trigger point #trigger point fanfic #trigger point series #trigger point #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington smut #billy washington angst #trigger point billy washington #billy washington fic #billy washington fluff #billy washington x fem!reader

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terrorcamp · 8 months

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Terror Camp 2023's Panel Lineup Announcement is here!

We are so excited to hear from all of these amazing presenters over two days in December 🤩👏

Posters, artists alley tablers, and keynote speakers will be announced over the next few weeks, as well as the link to RSVP, so make sure you sign up for our mailing list on our website!

Without further ado:

Terror Day - Saturday, December 9

Panel A: Primary Sources

"old Harvey (a mulatto)": Sailors of Colour on British Arctic Expeditions (1848-1859), Edmund Wuyts

"Do attend to your orthography": spelling as history in Franklin Expedition Letters, Reg

Relic or Artefact; an Analysis of Polar Artefacts in Museum Catalogues, Ash

Panel B: Historical Persons

Thomas Holloway: Pills, Palaces, and The Accursed Bears, Verity Holloway

"Scarface" Charley Tong Sing: A Chinese-American on the Jeannette, In the Papers, and Afterwards, Han

Failsons of Hudson Bay, Jas Bevan Niss

“Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole”: Roald Amundsen as Shakespearean Tragedy, Ireny

Panel C: Cultural Understandings and the Arctic

How Fares the Raft of the Medusa?: Mutiny, Cannibalism, and the Portrayal of History, Brianna Lou

“This Place Wants Us Dead”: The Terror and Folk Horror, Allison Raper

Icebound, Not Down, Hester Blum

Erebus Day - Sunday, December 10

Panel D: Death and Narratives of Death

"Known to all the youth of the Nation": Scott's Sacrifice in Children's Literature, Branwell

What We Talk About When We Talk About Quest, Caitlin Brandon

Funny to think of it as coming home: football, exploration, and the stories we tell ourselves, Rach

Panel E: The Allure of the Antarctic

From the South Pole to the Stars, Emma

The Feminine(?) Antarctic, Sam Botz

There and Back Again: In the Antarctic with Ross and Crozier, Phil Mikulski

Antarctic Roundtable

Out of the Rookery: An exploration of science and survival on Shackleton's Endurance, with Rebecca, Meg, and Avery

#the terror #polar exploration #the terror amc #antarctica #the arctic

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zoestorm · 7 months

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Spider-Man verse in which Kraven hears about Spidey and thinks he would make for a very good prey, comes to New York, tracks Spidey down, and finds him on a rooftop, bleeding and winded because he's just spent the last six hours punching the Rhino or whoever.

K: "The Spiderman, I presume?"

S: "With a hyphen, but yes. And you are?"

K: "Apologies, Spider-Man. My name is Kraven. I am here to hunt you."

S: *weary sigh* "Look man I am so tired, can we do this another time?"

K: "...Very well. I shall wait until you're rested."

S: "Wait seriously?"

K: "There is no honour in hunting a prey that's not at full strength. Fare thee well! Until next time."

And then he just leaves. Spidey is weirded out, but goes home and sleeps.

The next evening Kraven shows up again and asks if Spidey's rested. "Uhhhhh no actually I had a terrible day at work and then I had to fight Mysterio." Kraven nods and goes away.

The next evening Kraven shows up again and he's carrying a bag. "What's in there?" Spidey asks. "Chinese takeout." is the answer.

S: "You bought me food?!"

K: "You seemed like you could use a break. Come! Let us eat."

This scene repeats the next night with Indian food, and the following night with Mexican, and the night after that with pizza. They talk while they eat and Spidey realises that shit, this guy's cool, even though he's a weirdo.

The next night Kraven doesn't show up. Spidey's a bit bummed but then hears about a villain attacking somewhere, he swings over and finds Kraven standing over a defeated Scorpion or whoever and he's like "wtf man?"

K: "This was one of the blackguards who kept injuring you time after time, preventing me from hunting you, was he not? Well then, I have decided I shall rid this city of villains so that I may finally have you as my prey!"

S: "You do realise there's like a million of them? This could take years."

K: "Then years shall it take! For the time being, I have heard there is a sushi restaurant just around the corner! Shall we dine?"

S: "Yeah sure."

And that's how they become the weirdest crime-fighting duo.

#spider-man #kraven the hunter

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fatehbaz · 1 year

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A devastating rail crash that left almost 300 people dead has refocused international attention on the importance of railways in the lives of Indians.

Indeed, to many Western observers, images of men and women crammed into overcrowded cars serve as a metaphor for modern India. Take, for example, a report by German newspaper Der Spiegel on India’s population surpassing China’s. Published just weeks before the accident in Odisha province on June 2, the now much-criticized cartoon depicted a shabby Indian train crammed with passengers rushing past a streamlined Chinese train with only two people in it.

Where does this enduring image in the West of Indian railways – and of India – come from? As a scholar of Indian history and author of 2015 book “Tracks of Change: Railways and Everyday Life in Colonial India,” I believe the answers lie in the gigantic infrastructure projects of the 19th century – forged at the intersection of colonial dictates and capitalist demands.

---

A carrier of freight, not people

Railways remain the backbone of passenger traffic in India, transporting some 23 million people daily. In the pre-pandemic 2018-19 financial year, 7.7 billion passenger journeys in India. [...] Yet, when first planned in the 1840s, India’s railways were intended to primarily transport freight and livestock, not people. Indians were thought unlikely to become railway passengers by directors of the English East India Co., a merchant monopoly that gradually annexed and administered large parts of India under U.K. crown control. [...] However, early colonial railway policy was driven by pervasive Orientalist imaginings of a people rendered immobile by poverty, living in isolated villages [...]. The trope interlocked with colonial thinking that railways would foster greater industrialization which in turn would further a capitalist economy. They also aligned with the practical needs of a colonial trading monopoly which needed raw materials for English industries, such as cotton, to be moved swiftly and efficiently from India’s interiors to port towns [...].

---

Despite the doubters, the new Indian railways attracted an increasing number of passengers. The half-million passengers recorded in 1854 when tracks became operational increased to 26 million in 1875. By 1900, annual passenger figures stood at 175 million and then almost trebled to 520 million by 1919-20. By the time of the partition of India in 1947 it had risen to more than 1 billion passenger journeys annually. Indeed, images of overcrowded trains came to epitomize the upheaval of partition, with the rail system used to carry swaths of uprooted peoples across the soon-to-be Pakistan-India border. Third-class passengers, overwhelmingly Indians, comprised almost 90% of this traffic. These escalating figures did not, however, generate a lowering of fares. Nor did they result in any substantial improvements in the conditions of [...] travel. [...]

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The generally British railway managers seemed disinclined to remedy systematic overcrowding, which included transporting passengers in wagons meant for livestock. Rather, they insisted that such overcrowding was caused by the peculiar habits and inclinations of Indian passengers: their alleged [...] inclination to follow one another “like sheep” into crowded carriages. These attributes were soon rendered into a more public narrative, especially among Western mindsets. Journalist H. Sutherland Stark, writing for the industry publication Indian State Railways Magazine in 1929, stated that though “unversed” in railway administration and traffic control, he knew railway facilities were not the problem. Rather, Indian passengers lacked the mental preparedness, “self-possession” and “method” necessary to travel like “sane human beings.” Stark suggested passenger education as a solution to the perceived problem, making railway travel a tool for “self-composure and mass orderliness.” [...]

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More than a century later, this depiction endures, though, ironically, it now serves as a foil to understanding contemporary India. In a piece published in The New York Times on March 12, 2005, the author lauded the then-new Delhi metro, emphasizing that it had “none of the chaotic squalor of hawkers and beggars that characterizes mainline railroads in India, nor do desperate travelers hang from the sides of the trains.” As the debate rages on whether safety has taken a back seat to “glossy modernization projects” in India – early analyses suggest signaling failure might have caused June 2, 2023, accident – railways continue to represent India’s history.

In the heyday of empire, they were deemed the technology through which Britain would drag India into capitalist modernity. In 1947, they became a leitmotif for the trauma of the partition that accompanied the independence of India and Pakistan. As the coverage of Odisha accident reminds us, it continues to be a metaphor in the West for evaluating contemporary India.

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Headline, image, caption, and all text above by: Ritika Prasa. “Overcrowded trains serve as metaphor for India in Western eyes -- but they are a relic of colonialism and capitalism.” The Conversation. 9 June 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#ecology #colonial #imperial #abolition

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daddymilker691 · 7 months

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Well my darling readers and fans of the one and only Daily Milker paper Londons best kept secret , for the more deviant connoisseur with broader minds than the Daily shun it’s been a rather dank and dismal day here in our Holborn Studios , and of course it’s Guy Fawkes day so there have been lots of loud bangs and explosions outside but inside the studio it’s been a case of indoor fireworks and fortunately Dawn Green my wonderful Co Editor is health and safety mad so everything has been kept safely between these walls, as always I will pay tribute to the wonderful Dawn Green who helps me in so many ways to keep us going our first star today all the way from Canada was the lovely Canadiandoll also known as happy little Lucy looking fabulous as always I can still feel those green talons holding my head in place . Next to arrive the wonderful Jodie Hot Sauce celebrating in a rather wonderful outfit more apt the Chinese New year perhaps but when lifted oh dear readers Jodie’s rocket went off with a bang believe me dear readers it doesn’t take much to light page five star Jodie’s fuse . Next came one of our biggest page five stars and a staple star of the Daily Milker Janablack once seen never forgotten we all love Jana here . such a big and giving page five star . Then it was a bus ride for the lovely Sandra Clapham another London star and as always looking radiant and wonderful a staple star of the milker ( on the subject of staples Dawn darling we are running short i keep telling you just take that dress to the repairers ) next came the lovely Jessica another London star ⭐️ blimey so many in London looking great . Then it was IPra time to shine I pra is lovely and is another regular page five star and never fails to deliver next came the rather wonderful only monika I would have been happy to pay the taxi fare but what can I say I was bewitched , lastly Cindy Lace , lastly love and peace to you all gawd knows we could all do with it xxx

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sqewed0722 · 1 month

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Will I ever get over this drama? I just started rewatching from the first episode on Viki, with comments enabled. But I think it’s good to rewatch coz the first time, I was still overwhelmed by all the information even as I was keeping up with reading the subtitles. I also didn’t have any comments from other viewers on the other platform, which could sometimes help in understanding the context of a scene or dialogue better (especially since I’m not Chinese). Now, I’m more relaxed and able to take in the subtler parts, especially in the dialogues. I have the luxury of not paying attention visually all the time.

One good example of my having failed to catch the nuances during my initial watch is the part when Shen Li in her phoenix form asked Xingzhi (as the mortal Xingyun) what he was going to do in the market. I don’t know any Mandarin and the other platform I first watched this in didn’t give any side notes on such languange nuances so I had no idea of the double meaning behind the words Xingyun used in his reply.

Apparently, the words he used to say that he sells ginseng sounds almost the same phonetically as the words used to mean he was going to sell himself (i.e. prostituting himself). Hence, Phoenix Shen Li’s shock and initial disgust towards him. It made that scene doubly hilarious to me upon second viewing.

I’m also more appreciative now of Shen Li and Xingzhi’s initial interactions in their phoenix and mortal forms, respectively. I’m better able to understand now why Shen Li fell hard for him and how she grew on Xingzhi till she became very dear to him. His beloved, in fact.

As a phoenix in the mortal world, Shen Li was perceived as a chicken, albeit a weird looking one, an ordinary creature with little to recommend it in those days except as food for the people. She was one of the weakest creatures and her life very expendable. What a stark contrast from her life in the Demon Realm, where she is styled Lord of the Azure Sky, wielder of the powerful Red Plume Spear. She is a great general of their army, a princess for all intents and purposes. Here in the mortal world, she’s forced to rely on a sickly and impoverished mortal man for sustenance and protection.

As for Xingzhi, the disparity of his mortal life from his old life is even greater. He is poor and sickly Xingyun, living alone in a house quite far from the center of population. He’s forced to live on meager fare, whatever selling ginseng can bring him. And most of his small earnings go to his medicines. His body is frail so that it seems as if he can die anytime.

Yet in his true form, he is the last of the Ancient Gods in the Sky Above Heaven. He’s the most powerful being in the universe, and the lives of all three realms are in his hands.

As for why Xingzhi chose to live as a mortal in such state, it’s probably because he felt it would give him a more varied and intense experience of humanity and its challenges.

So here were these two beings, reduced to such circumstances, finding themselves living together and depending on each other. They got to know one another without the burdens and trappings of their positions, and it allowed their relationship to grow into something more authentic. In a way, one can say that this brief period where everything started between them was what allowed them to love each other just as themselves, as simply Shen Li and Xingzhi. Not as Lord Of The Azure Sky and The Divine Lord of the Sky Above Heaven and the Three Realms.

This initial arc goes on for several episodes before Shen Li finally returns to the Demon Realm and they meet again, this time with Xingzhi in all his understated glory as Divine Lord Xingzhi, and she as the Lord Of The Azure Sky. I think it was the perfect foundation for the relationship that they developed later on. It was a love so strong that it literally shook all the Three Realms and eventually led to the destruction of the Sky Above Heaven, ending the age of the ancient gods.

Some of the fans complain that the development of some arcs took a chunk out of the series, that some arcs were dragging and they saw little sense in it. For me, those viewers are probably the types who got used to the instant gratification that’s usually seen in Western dramas or those who don’t have the patience to finish reading a book. They always want to skip to the good parts and then they keep pestering other viewers with questions on why this happened or why that is so.

Anyway, whatever else these foolish viewers may say, TLOS will remain one the best CDramas ever. Almost all its characters, especially the ones who portray key roles, were well rounded and developed. And the execution of the story was top-notch, from the first time Xingzhi’s eyes fell on this weird chicken, until the end, when he and Shen Li return to the mortal world to live their life together happily and peacefully in that house where their love first blossomed.

#the legend of shen li #cdrama #zhao liying #lin gengxin #shen li #xing zhi #cdrama analysis

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southeastasianists · 18 days

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Penang is well-known for its vibrant Straits Chinese Peranakan culture, but if you know where to look, there’s another chapter to its history. While the focus is often on the marriage between overseas Chinese traders marrying local Malay women, the truth is, the Chinese were not the only traders conducting business in George Town. Merchants from around the region were familiar with Penang, having already flowed through Penang on various trading missions.

Between the 10th and 18th centuries, traders and migrants from India, Persia, and the Middle East arrived in Penang. Their marriages with local Malay women gave rise to a new branch of the Peranakans, known as Jawi Peranakan, with Jawi denoting Southeast Asian Muslims, and Peranakan taking its meaning from the Malay word ‘anak’, or child. Over time, this group expanded to include those who had Arab-Malay ancestry. In Penang, they were also once known as Jawi Pekan.

The Jawi Peranakan cuisine, much like its Chinese cousins, draws on cultural exchanges between Malay cuisine and its Indian, Arab, and Persian influences. Jawi Peranakan dishes tend to feature ingredients from India and the Middle East, including ground almonds and cashews, saffron, and rosewater. The cuisine of the Jawi Peranakan was generally recognized to be more lavish, and was often served during feasts and special occasions.

To get a taste of this chapter of Peranakan history, visit Jawi House, located on Armenian Street in the heart of George Town’s downtown heritage district. The house was recently renovated in 2012 according to UNESCO World Heritage Guidelines, but it has existed for six generations. It was established by the Karim family of Punjabi-Jawi Peranakan history, and today functions as not just a restaurant showcasing a modern take on Jawi Peranakan cuisine, but also as a small gallery charting the family’s history as well as classic handcrafted art. Helmed by Chef Nurilkarim Razha, a descendant of the Karim family, the restaurant offers up iconic Jawi Peranakan fare. Popular dishes include lamb bamieh, a fragrant, aromatic Persian-inspired okra and tomato-based lamb stew; serabai, a Malay kuih which resembles a tangy, spongier pancake made from fermented rice batter and served with caramel kaya (coconut jam); and nasi lemuni, an herbaceous rich rice dish cooked with butterfly pea flowers and the herb Vitex trifolia.

#Southeast Asia #Malaysia #Penang #Jawi Peranakan

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alectoperdita · 8 months

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Oh hell, I am all about them drugged confessions. If/whenever you’re up for it. 💕

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

Jumped this one ahead in the queue since it's someone's birthday. 💜💜💜 Enjoy, my friend! I hope this has enough of the stuff you dig about them.

13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions

content warnings: referenced non-consensual drug use and mildly spicy because Seto is thirsty

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The city lights stabbed into Seto's eyes. The city's heartbeat—a frantic cacophony of bumper-to-bumper traffic, music spilling out of late-night shops and restaurants, and an overwhelming pulse of humanity—pulsed against the back of his head like a second migraine.

He lifted his heavy head and tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Not an easy feat when the world wouldn't stop spinning. Seto could feel the planet's rotational force itself.

In the sky, a bloated, sickly yellow moon hung on the black canvas, a dim bulb when compared to the Oriental Pearl Tower's neon blue and magenta on the opposite riverbank. The phalanx of lit skyscrapers behind the landmark formed a blinding wall that threatened to lighten the night sky.

No wonder they were sitting at a standstill in traffic. He was in the Bund. Shanghai. He was in Shanghai. Not for the first or second time, but the city's nightlife never failed to overwhelm.

It came back to him in bits and pieces. The Pan-Asia Duel Monsters Championship was in China this year, which KC was a sponsor of, along with a dozen international and domestic corporations. Seto wasn't here to compete, though. He was here to do business and build guanxi.

Which meant night after night of hard drinking and tedious back slapping as Seto endured their patronizing compliments about his passable Mandarin. Endless rounds of maotai until his blood must be 90% alcohol. That was the preferred poison of the old-school elites, the ones who built their wealth on the backs of a rapidly booming economy that outpaced everyone's wildest imagination. Not even Japan had sustained that kind of boom in the post-war years.

Potential liver failure was the price of doing business in this country.

That was last night, though. Seto was sure of that much, even if the passage of time seemed theoretical at best. Tonight, he'd been swept into a gaggle of their children, mainly the sons of the previous night's party officials and business moguls.

The fuerdai. His "peers."

Ha! Gozaburo had handed him nothing. Everything Seto owned, everything he accomplished, was through his own sweat and blood.

Seto will give them one thing: their tastes were decidedly less provincial. While their fathers drank baijiu like fish drinking water, they preferred cocktails, or at least pitchers of iced green tea mixed with Crown Royal.

Maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated how fucked up he could get on such a simple mixture.

That was the last thing he could remember. He drew a yawning gap between the afterparty at the club and this taxi cab.

Seto sank into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach lurched. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were stuck in traffic. He might not be able to keep it down in stop-and-go traffic.

An abrasive—a familiar abrasive voice—encroached from the fringes, though. An equally combative voice shot back in a different language.

Seto's head lolled to the side, away from the window and toward the other passenger in the backseat. Reluctantly, he pried his heavy eyelids open. God, why was he so tired? It felt like he'd pulled several all-nighters in a row.

His fellow passenger was Jounouchi, locked in a heated conversation/argument with the cab driver.

Right. Jounouchi was also in Shanghai this week. Except he was here to compete in the tournament. And unlike Seto, he didn't speak a lick of Chinese.

Not that his laughable grasp of English fared any better.

"Fuck, I'm telling ya, it's the other Marriott!" Jounouchi groaned in Japanese, running a frustrated hand through his bird's nest hair. It looked softer than it had any right to be, though. The strands ought to be bleached to hell and back after this many years.

But Jounouchi had been updating his wardrobe and his deck in recent years. Every victory advanced his look and style, and even netted him some media training like someone deserving of media notice, which was why he was playing in the Pan-Asian championship. Seto couldn't ignore him like he once did, like he still tried to in vain sometimes.

(And sometimes, he very much didn't want to ignore Jounouchi, wondering if he could catch the other man's attention in return...)

None of that explained why they were in the same cab, though.

Jounouchi tried again to communicate. It hurt to listen to him butcher English to that extent. The cab driver appeared to grow even more irate, threatening to eject them entirely.

Giggles spilled uncontrollably out of him. Of course! Of course, Jounouchi's incompetence got them stranded on the opposite end of the city from their hotel.

Fortunately, he was a snack to look at, even if his brains were nothing to write home about.

Seto's words croaked out of him, repeating in Mandarin what Jounouchi had been trying to convey. God, why did it hurt so much to speak? But even his drunken slur sufficed, earning a grousing retort from the driver that Seto should've just said so sooner while shooting a death glare at his other passenger through the rearview mirror.

At the sound of Seto's voice, Jounouchi jolted in shock, releasing the driver's headrest he had been clinging to. After several awkward moments of staring, he inched closer to Seto, stopping short of touching him. But the proximity and the tight enclosure made Seto's skin crawl. Not in an unpleasant way, though. His body tingled and felt a touch flushed.

How would Jounouchi's skin feel against his?

"You alright there, Kaiba?" asked Jounouchi, seemingly floating closer. He waved a hesitant hand in Seto's face.

Base urges welled up in him. He wanted to grab Jounouchi's hand and bite it, no better than a dog, as he once mocked the other man for being. Better yet, he could drag his tongue across the rough palm and lap at his knuckles. Suck his thick fingers into his mouth and learn contentment from how they could fill his mouth.

Seto was never drinking green tea mixed with whisky ever again.

He managed a small noise of confirmation before he twisted away, curling as best as he could around the seatbelt. Something like a whimper pushed at the back of his throat, but he refused to release it. He wouldn't humiliate himself any further. Just as he wouldn't crawl across the middle seat and cuddle into Jounouchi's lap.

But god, he wanted that so much it hurt.

A warm hand landed on his back, and he nearly surrendered as Jounouchi rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

"It's okay." Jounouchi spoke softly, but somehow it rang louder than the many decibels of Shanghai traffic. "We'll be back at the hotel in time. Just hang in there."

Seto spent the rest of the journey folded into himself, wedged firmly against the side of the taxi, trying and failing not to tremble under Jounouchi's caring touch. With a hushed tone, Jounouchi explained what had happened. It was pure coincidence that he ran into Seto and his "party" at that particular club. (Coincidence is giving chance too much credit. There were only so many high-end nightclubs in the city.) Jounouchi had wandered over to say hi before rejoining his own group. But out of the corner of his eyes, he'd noticed that Kaiba was acting unlike himself. In fact, the entire group seemed a bit off.

Seto was coming to his own conclusion before Jounouchi shared his.

Seto had been drugged. And since he knew better than to take random shit handed to him by strangers, it must've been slipped into his drink. Or maybe it was in the communal cocktail pitcher to begin with.

"They were trying to drag you off to someplace else. Don't ask me where. But you didn't look like you wanted to go, so I stepped in," Jounouchi trailed off. He'd yet to remove his hand, but it sat unmoving, a steadying weight on Seto's back helping to ground him to reality.

"I can't imagine they were happy," Seto muttered.

Jounouchi chuckled. "Not one bit. Acted like I was trying to kill the party. One chick threatened me with her stiletto heel."

"My knight in shining armor." Seto found himself laughing, then regretted it when his head throbbed.

"Don't worry, I didn't hit any of 'em. Mighty tempting, though. I just kinda threw you over my shoulder and high-tailed it outta there. That was how I knew you were really outta it. You barely cursed me out."

Heat associated with both shame and arousal rushed through him. It turned out those biceps he secretly admired weren't just for show.

"Finally, we're here!" exclaimed Jounouchi. His hand also regrettably retreated.

Seto watched blearily as Jounouchi overpaid the driver and leaped out the door. He didn't go far, though. He jogged around the vehicle to Seto's side and yanked open the door. As he leaned in and over Seto to undo the seatbelt buckle, the woody scent of Jounouchi's cologne flooded Seto's nostrils. And his strength was plainly evident as he braced his arms around Seto's shoulders and hip.

"Alright, up we go," urged Jounouchi.

Under any sober circumstance, Seto would've never allowed this to happen. To let Jounouchi touch him, especially as a caretaker. But Seto was the farthest thing from sober, fucked up on whatever combination of alcohol and party drugs he had been unwittingly fed. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet.

So he relied on Jounouchi and his strength. Clung to the man's sweat-slicked neck.

The doorman didn't give them a second glance. Why should he? Seto was simply the latest in an endless stream of drunken guests stumbling back into the five-star hotel.

A lobby concierge approached and tried to help, though. Both Jounouchi and Seto waved him off. Jounouchi likely because he didn't want another stressful not-conversation, and Seto didn't want anyone but Jounouchi touching him right now.

"Hey, what floor?" Jounouchi asked after propping him against the wall of the elevator carriage.

Seto patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his wallet. He didn't expect the fuerdai to rob him blind like a common mugger, but you never knew. He tossed the leather wallet to Jounouchi and croaked, "Key card."

The tournament competitors were provided with single-bed guest rooms. Seto, on the other hand, occupied the Vice Presidential Suite for the week. Their elevator shot toward the top floors, bypassing the dozens of floors between the ground and the suites.

As they ascended, Seto snuck covert glances at the other hand. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast, Jounouchi was still huffing and sweating. Who could blame him? Summer in Shanghai could be blistering.

"Can you walk?" asked Jounouchi when the elevator doors finally parted.

Struck muted, Seto shook his head. His heart raced as Jounouchi wrapped a burly arm around his waist, and together, they hobbled down the hall to the suite's door.

The lights flicked on automatically as they entered, drawing an impressed whistle from Jounouchi as he took in the room.

"Yeah, guess I should've known. You wouldn't be caught dead living like us commoners. Where's the bed in this joint?"

The mention of bed caused something hot and heavy to coil in Seto's navel. Without meaning to, his arm tightened around Jounouchi's neck, which only prompted the other man to grip him tighter, mistaking the action as a plea for more support.

"Bedroom," he moaned, knocking his head against the side of Jounouchi's. He might be imagining it, but he swore Jounouchi shivered and pink flooded down to his neck.

Seconds later, they stumbled into the adjoined bedroom. The spacious room apparently didn't warrant any comments, because Jounouchi deposited Seto on the bed and disappeared from sight.

To say Seto was disappointed was an understatement.

It may be a blessing in disguise. Jounouchi had already done the "decent" thing: extracted him from a dicey situation and brought him to safety. Seto didn't need to embarrass himself in front of the other man any further.

He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, kicking a leg out blindly.

"Relax, it's me."

Silly though it was, Seto did relax as soon as he registered Jounouchi's voice. His firm but careful touch.

"Here. I got you water from the minibar and a cool towel. It's unopened. I promise."

Seto stared helplessly at the two items being offered to him. Jounouchi made no moves, either. They were at a stalemate. At least until the other man sighed and pressed the moist towel to Seto's sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, and he unleashed a faint moan at how good and chilly it felt.

"C'mon, you gotta drink the water, too. The whole bottle, then I promise to leave you alone."

Panic spiked through Seto's system. Being alone, something he never minded before, suddenly sounded unbearable. He didn't want Jounouchi to leave.

He reached out. Not to take the proffered bottle, as refreshing as its content may be, but to grab Jounouchi's forearm. Jounouchi froze under his clutch.

"You can't leave. I won't let you," said Seto before he could stop himself.

Jounouchi's breath hitched. As he stared at Seto's face, his eyes darkened with something unspeakable. He licked his lips. "Okay, not leaving. Not tonight. Guess someone's gotta keep an eye on you and make sure things don't take a turn for the worse. But you gotta at least let go of my arm. I'll take the couch outside."

Seto slid closer. "I want you—"

Jounouchi gasped. Seto could kiss him at that instant, but his head spun.

He wanted Jounouchi in every conceivable way. Wanted to feel his naked skin against his skin. Wanted to feel his weight pressing down on him as his cock pushed into Seto's hole. Wanted to shatter apart and then let Jounouchi piece him back together in the afterglow, warm and content.

He thought Jounouchi might grant him those things. If only he'd ask for them. But the words remained stubbornly lodged in his throat as sobriety started to creep in on the edges.

"I want you to stay with me," he whispered, holding Jounouchi's shell-shocked gaze.

Tonight and tomorrow. Maybe even for the rest of their lives. One day, Seto would give voice to the whole truth.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

#yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #joukai #ygo #replies #saiikavon #my fanfiction #writing prompts #phew i didn't expect this one to end up this long when i started writing this morning #definitely just let the vibe carry me on this one #my knowledge of Shanghai nightlife is at least 15 years out of date but i remember drinking so much green tea and whisky #it's a good drink not too overly sweet #but the easier the drink goes down the easier it is to get shitfaced #gonna take a break from tackling more today but I have a long weekend so looking forward to working on more of your guys' requests #watch this space!

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year

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Reality TV

~*~

🧡 After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian, modern, reality show au, secret relationship, fluff & angst, happy ending, bachelor LWJ, cameraman WWX, smut, The Bachelor)

🧡 I Don't Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX, Tencent's 2021 Idol Producer, [Podfic] I Don't Want to Debut! by PandaReads (DrPanda99))

❤️ Knight Hunt! Phoenix Mountain by travelingneuritis (E, 51k, wangxian, modern, dating show, Modern Cultivation, but in the silliest way possible, Reality TV, the juniors are interns, Smut, Illustrations, low-stakes pining)

Wangxian Strictly AU Series by Selenay (E, 135k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Dance, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Dancer!WWX, Violinist LWJ, Pining While Dancing, Oblivious WWX, Gratuitous Costume Descriptions, Gratuitous dancing descriptions, Slow Burn, Ballroom dancing, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff, [Podfic] Falling to the Rhythm by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

❤️ Welcome to the Great Gusu Bake Off! by BlackWiresOnHerHead (G, 60k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, the great british bake off au, humor, [Podfic] on your marks, get set, bake! by meilanmeilan (avawtsn))

🧡 don't threaten me with a good time by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 60k, WangXian, Modern AU, Great British bake off AU, Script format, Fluff and Crack, Reality TV, Social media, [Podfic] Cold read of don't threaten me with a good time by kisahawklin)

The Great Chinese Cook-Off by aubreyli, cafecliche, etymologyplayground, mme_anxious (G, 20k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, The Great British Bake Off Fusion, sort of; it's more of a cooking show, because most Chinese people use their ovens for pot/pan storage, Collaboration, Screenplay/Script Format, Humor, Baking, Cooking, Stress)

Hide Away by sassybluee (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern: No Powers, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, straight boy WWX, straight boy LWJ, everyone's convinced they're straight tbh, LWJ FUCKS, WWX fucks, referenced but not shown for both of those, Reality TV, Love Island, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Drunk kiss, Shower Sex, Ambiguous/Open Ending, POV Alternating)

Call me out by your name by Asparmagus (E, 60k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality Show, Paradise Hotel, First Meetings, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Pool Sex, Oblivious WWX, Rough Kissing, Biting, Bisexual disaster WWX, Unnegotiated Kink, Handcuffs)

🧡 shoot your shot -- hot or knot by defractum (nyargles) (E, 51k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Reality Show, Hunger Games Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, shoot your shot -- hot or knot [PODFIC] by Opalsong)

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes (T, 206k, XiCheng, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality TV, Slow Burn, Romance, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF JYL)

Killers on Board by Vodkassassin (G, 9k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Science Fiction, Space, Reality TV, futuristic AU, space-faring voyage, Fake Character Death, hand-wavy science)

Love at Second Sight by flowerofgusu (E, 49k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality TV, Musicians Wangxian, Comphet WWX, Coming Out, Demisexual WWX, Rated E for the Small Amounts of Smut, Eventual Smut, Romantic Comedy, Falling In Love, Misunderstandings, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Arranged Marriage)

Keeping Up with the Cultivators by thetrickisnotminding (Not Rated, 1k, Cultivation Sect Politics, Reality TV, Modern with Magic)

and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, wangxian, modern, fantasy, reality tv, angst w/ happy ending, survival, blood & gore, self-harm, animal death, slow burn)

start getting real by azurewaxwing (T, 21k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Reality TV, POV Outsider, Golden Core Reveal, (sort of), Appropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Silencing Spell, Getting Together, End Racism in the OTW | [Podfic] start getting real by kalakirya)

Untamed Sects by ChaoticRamblings (E, 50k, WIP, WangXian, NingSang, XiCheng, Fluff and Humor, Slow Burn, Relationship(s), Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Flirting, Reality TV, Kissing, Texting, Drunkenness, Drunken Kissing, Explicit Language, Nosebleed, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Mild Blood, Biting, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, It's just pot, Minor fighting, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Second Wind: An Idol Survival Show by moeblobmegane (T, 25k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Idols, Social Media, Chatting & Messaging, Fluff, Reality Show, Twitter, Tumblr, Embedded Images, POV Outsider)

Battle Chefs by sami (T, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality Show, cooking contests, Format - Recaps, Humour, [Podfic] Cold read of Battle Chefs by kisahawklin)

The Gusu Lan Rift Healing Show by SecretName3000 (G, 3k, WangXian, Crack, Comedy)

Queer Eye for the Bisexual Guy by Hopeworldiangirl777 (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Makeover, WWX is a Mess, Fluff, I think?, Mild Swearing)

we’re dancing around the kitchen by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 22k, WIP, WangXian, HuaLian, Reality Show, Modern AU, Worst Cooks in America AU, Cooking, Bad Cooking, war crimes committed in the form of cooking, Crack, Fluff, content warning for absolute unhinged chaos, XL Can't Cook, Simp HC)

How to Accidentally Court a Prince by Alliandra (T, 13k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Reality Show, Royalty, arranged marriage contest, Modern Cultivation, meet fight, swordfighting as flirting, queer normative, No Homophobia, POV Alternating, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn)

End Racism on the OTW || Yesterday Once More by Sweetlittlevampire (T, 22k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Modern AU, Reality Show, Long Lost Family AU, Adoption, Family Reunions, Reunions, Lost Love, Getting Back Together, Family Feels, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

love on the small screen Series by DizziDreams (T, 11k, WangXian, ChengSang, Modern AU, Love is Blind AU, Reality Show, Millionaire Matchmaker AU)

Gusu's Drag Race by DizziDreams (T, 55k, WangXian, Drag Queens, Drag Race AU, Modern AU, Nonbinary Character, Gender Changes, Reality Show, whistleblower, There Was Only One Bed, Alcohol Abuse, ambiguous setting, American political system)

Mo Xuanyu's Drag Race by TriviasFolly (Not Rated, 7k, WangXian, Drag Race AU, Modern AU, Drag Queens, LWJ and WWX are couple goals, A-Yuan is adorable, WWX is hopelessly in love with his husband, mental health discussion, wwx has self-esteem issues)

一见结婚 (mafs) Series by adeleblaircassiedanser, deepbutdazzlingdarkness (E, 41k, XuanLi, WangXian, past XianQing, past XueXian, Arranged Marriage, Modern AU, Reality Show, First Meetings, Awkwardness, First Kiss, Strangers to Lovers, Communication Failure, Unreliable Narrator, X2, Relationship Negotiation, married at first sight au, Sharing a Bed, Honeymoon, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Marijuana, Mildly Dubious Consent, Arguing, Party, IKEA, Casual Sex, Childhood Trauma, Substance Abuse, Mutual Pining)

Gusu House by oikkawa (E, 1k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, Reality Show)

Searching for a Heart by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, married at first sight au, this is basically modern arranged marriage, Getting Together, Reality TV AU)

Graduation season by glyphsinateacup (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Getting Together, queer eye AU)

Blind Date by lionfish13 (G, 6k, XueXiao, Modern AU, Blind Date, Matchmaking, Light-Hearted, Silly, Fun, Choose Your Own Adventure)

Don't Say No by Lunarwriter75 (E, 59k, SongXue, XuanLi, MianQing, A-QingZhenYi, XueQing, SongXiaoXue, Modern AU, Single's Inferno AU, Reality Show, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Light Angst, Making Out, Vaginal Fingering, Misunderstandings, Hand Jobs, Coming In Pants, Getting Together, Blow Jobs, POV XY, XY is Bad at Feelings, SL Has a Big Dick, Past SongXiao, or is it in the past?, Gay Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex)

Love in the Jianghu by LiangFUNzun (M, 12k, WIP, 3Zun, LXC / Others, The Bachelor Fusion, Modern AU, baxia is a cat, drunk!LXC, Crack Treated Seriously, Background Relationships,background wangxian)

An Idiot's Guide to Reality TV / 笑傲醬壺 by Irrelevancy (T, 17k, WIP, SongXiao, Modern AU, Reality Show, bachelor!au, Ensemble Cast, Humor, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, bachelor!XXC, first AD!SL, director!NHS, everyone else is cast and crew)

Previously, on LEGO Masters by trippednfell (M, 55k, WangXian, Reality TV Show Contestants/Judges, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Forced to compete together, strangers to reality show contestants to lovers, there's only one bed, Platonic Cuddling, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Grief/Mourning, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Alternating, Lego Masters AU, Not Madame Yu friendly, Dysfunctional Jiang family dynamics)

#wangxianficfinder #long post #wangficfinder compilation post #reality tv compilation #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian

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psychotrenny · 11 months

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People who are against both fossil fuels and nuclear really need to read up on their early modern history. Even at a bare minimum subsistence level humans need energy for cooking and (in a great deal of the world) heating and if you want to support a certain level of population (I.e. a level that most of the world passed by 1900 and and the rest by 2000) in most of the world you're gonna need the products of industry to produce sufficient food (like have fun doing earthworks on heavy soil without metal tools). By 1800 much of Western Europe and Eastern Asia (especially the more densely populated parts like like England and France in the former and Shandong and the Yangzi delta in the latter) were facing severe ecological stress due to the high wood demand for both household and industrial uses(even while they imported large amounts of it from less dense areas like the Baltic coast, North America and South East Asia). This loss of forest lead to a range of issues like soil erosion, rising water tables, increased flood damage and even localised climate change (many people believe that the "European Monsoons" of the late 18/early 19th century were the result of deforestation while forest loss is used to explain north Chinese rainfall patterns to this day).

Southern China was only barely able to stabilise the situation through developments in cooking/hating fuel use efficiency and the use of a range of alternative fuels like dung and crop residues (and maintaining this level of crop and livestock production required yet more imports like beancake fertiliser from Manchuria) while the situation in the North continued to deteriorate into the 20th century. Meanwhile forest cover and soil health in Europe only began to recover when use of coal both fully displaced wood as an an energy source and allowed the development of other technologies to reduce the level of land clearance necessary to support society. That's not to say this solution was perfect of course (I'm sure we all know what effects this use of coal has had on the global climate, while part of the return to forest in Europe was the result of Europeans importing land intensive commodities from other parts of the world; essentially exporting the forest clearance) and we are in desperate need of an alternative, but when deciding on which alternative you need to reckon with this. Flat out "de-industrialisation" is not only an intensely cruel solution in human terms but simply isn't environmentally viable either. Wind, water and biofuel could barely support a planet of 1 billion people how well do you think it'll fare with almost 8 billion. And if you think modern renewable technologies can make up the difference you're gonna need the number to back that up; good vibes is no substitute for the quantity of kilojoules humans needs to survive

#Stella Speaks #I'm sick of seeing not only full on anti-civs but similar sentiments articulated by a range of people #Fossil Fuels are not pleasant but there are very important reasons why they were adopted #and we need to reckon with that if we want to move past them

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anonduck07 · 2 months

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2024 Chinese GP: Recap + Results

Another one! Fair warning that it's the longest one so far, but I blame that on the 3 safety cars

P1 is Max Verstappen, who takes his first Chinese GP win, leading by about 14 seconds!

Yes the car is great, but the guy behind the wheel is also having to deliver - Crofty about Verstappen post-race

Red Bull also sets the fastest pit stop of the race, double stacking Verstappen and Perez under the full safety car and setting 1.9 and 2.0 seconds respectively.

Lando Norris is P2, his best finish since 2023 brazillian GP. He was also voted DOTD, winning just ahead of Hamilton and Alonso, who were also fan favourite picks. He was a little unhappy after he missed out on pitting under the safety car, but all ends well for him.

He [Norris] is not a happy bunny - Crofty, probably, about the missed pit stop

Woop Woop! I told you we would get past the Ferraris. - Norris, after crossing the finish line

Checo Perez places P3, yet another Red Bull double podium! There was an interesting 5 second gap from him to Norris, likely due to Norris having fresher tires. At the beginning though, he pulled some nice moves, regaining his position from Alonso within a few laps of him losing it.

P4 and 5 were the two Ferraris, Leclerc finishing in front of Sainz for the first time this season. They had a bit of a clash at the start, but nothing that the broadcast really focused on.

P6 was George Russell

P7 was Alonso, who was placed on an interesting strategy for the last several laps. He pitted for mediums, allowing him to overtake Ocon, then Hulkenberg, then Hamilton and Piastri.

P8 was Piastri who, keep in mind, has never driven at this circuit before

P9 was Hamilton, who is DOTD in my heart. He struggled with his tires at the start, being only one of four drivers on softs (everyone else on mediums, except Magnussen). He seemed to fare better after pitting for mediums, making his way to finish P9 after starting P18 :)

We also got a few moments of Nico Rosberg trying to be on some sort of wavelength with Lewis while commentating:

He's Lewis Hamilton, so yes he can…get into the points…im sure he'll move up fine - Nico Rosberg

I'm making no ground with this tyre - Lewis Hamilton That's not what we want to hear - Nico Rosberg

I can't even catch him, Mate. This car is so slow. - Lewis Hamilton That's exactly what I was going to say - Nico Rosberg (Lap 17)

P10 was Hulkenberg, yet again managing points for HAAS

P11 was Esteban Ocon

P12 was Alex Albon, who had a complaint about Ocon "moving like a ---- everywhere on the breaks." on Lap 1

P13 was Gasly, who set the slowest pit stop (19.3 sec) after an incident in the pits where a loose tire hit a mechanic when he was set to be released.

Is he okay? - Pierre Gasly All good here Pierre - Alpine

An unfortunate no-points finish for Zhou, who places P14 at his home GP, but still a very emotional day for him.

This is a dream to me as a kid, so thanks for all the Chinese fans here and back home watching TV and thank you to my team…let's keep working. - Zhou Guanyu, after he gets out of the car

Sauber, as always, had issues with their pit stops. Zhou's first one was quick compared to their previous ones, at only 3.0 seconds, but his stop under the physical safety car was the second slowest at 5.3 seconds.

He had a short fight against Sargeant and picked up some damage after contact with Magnussen near the end, losing his front wing end plate in the process, which couldn't have helped his position.

P15 was Magnussen, who always seems to be at the scene of the crime. He also picked up a 10 second penalty for infringing on the safety car.

P16 was Stroll, after picking up a 10 second penalty for causing a collision. He also had a battle for 16th with Magnussen, which was pretty interesting.

P17 was Sargeant, who was doing pretty well for the most part. Then, he stacked up a 10 second penalty for the same reason as Magnussen.

DNFS

The first yellow flag was also the first DNF of the race, caused by Bottas whose engine reportedly failed. The FIA changed the yellow flag to a virtual safety car, then a full safety car, all within a minute or two. Truly a testament to their amazing decision making skills.

The second yellow flag was caused by Yuki Tsunoda's spin out at lap 27, after contact with Kevin Magnussen that led to Tsunoda having to DNF and Magnussen going into the pits for a punctured tire.

Just minutes later, his teammate also DNFs, as Stroll collides with the back of Daniel Ricciardo's RB under the safety car. This was likely due to the fact that Ricciardo was the only one who hadn't pitted for fresh tires during the last safety car, as well as the fact that he was trying to avoid bumping Piastri, who was trying to avoid Russell, who was trying to avoid Alonso. Stroll recieved a 10 second penalty for causing a collision, but Daniel retired on lap 33 after reporting floor damage.

This idiot just slammed on the brake! Check wing damage - Lance Stroll

I've got no fucking rear on exits - Daniel Ricciardo

Before that though, his drive was going "superb" (in the words of Nico Rosberg), as he was P9 and had made a switcheroo overtake on his teammate at turn 3.

#race recap #formula 1 #chinese gp 2024 #f1 #max verstappen #red bull racing #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #kevin magnussen #zhou guanyu #sauber #fernando alonso #checo perez #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #brocedes #lowkey

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