((sorry i'm not sorry))

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In case you haven’t watched Wizards of Waverly Place (you missed out), but there was a magic necklace that glows only if you’re in love with the person who put it on you. And of course my heart was screaming klance. So here’s Keith being insecure about Lance’s feelings about him but feeling really happy that his bf loves him.

Chavs & Lads (Wikipedia Defined)

This is what they’ve tried so hard to portray Louis as…a caricature of this classist bullshit, all while portraying Harry as the posh, exclusive, designer-beloved darling. 

It’s like they went through Wikipedia and made a marketing plan for Louis.

Chav (/ˈtʃæv/ chav) is a pejorative epithet used in Britain to describe a particular stereotype

The Oxford English Dictionary defines chav as an informal British derogatory, meaning “a young lower-class person who displays brash and loutish behaviour and wears real or imitation designer clothes”.

Besides referring to loutish behaviour, violence, and particular speech patterns, the chav stereotype includes wearing branded designer sportswearThey have been described as adopting “black culture”, and use some Jamaican patois in their slang.

Lad culture (also laddish culture and laddism) is a British subculture initially associated with the Britpop movement. Arising in the early 1990s, the image of the “lad” – or “new lad” – was that of a generally middle class figure espousing attitudes typically attributed to the working classes. The subculture involves young men assuming an anti-intellectual position, shunning sensitivity in favour of drinking, violence, and sexism.

Lad culture… present images of laddishness that are dominated by the male pastimes of drinking, watching football, and sex.

Louis likes football. Harry likes designer clothing. But they do not exist in vacuums created solely by Adidas and Saint Laurent. These images are intentionally divisive, and, in Louis’ case, insulting! 

We can’t stop the portrayal of these images (at least right now). But we can recognize them, recognize their intentions, and call them out.

One Last Thing

12x12 coda almost a week late (oops)

When they get back to the bunker, Dean is surprised to see Mom head toward the room they’d assigned to her all those months ago. He assumed she’d leave as soon as they were safely back underground. He’s still staring down the hallway after her when he hears Cas sigh.

He turns to find him slumped in a kitchen chair, his hands in his lap and his coat closed enough to cover the blood and black…goo on his shirt. He’s staring down at the table with a crease between his brow.

“You OK?” Dean asks gruffly as he takes a tentative seat perpendicular to him.

“No.”

Dean balks at the honesty but doesn’t say anything. He leans forward and folds his hands on top of the table. Somewhere in the direction of Sam’s room, a door opens and closes.

“I shouldn’t be alive,” Cas continues, still staring at the table. “I would’ve never…”

Suddenly Cas’ eyes pop up and past Dean as Sam enters the kitchen.

None of them say anything as Sam grabs a cold cup of coffee. Dean and Cas look at each other. When Sam leaves, Cas’ eyes find the table again.

“I wouldn’t’ve…said what I said,” Cas continues, hesitance clear in his tone, “If I had known…”

A couple of seconds pass before it clicks for Dean. “That you weren’t actually gonna die?”

Cas nods minutely.

Dean leans back, runs a hand up through his hair and then drops it to his knee. “Look, man, you know I ain’t good at this. But you are family, so…what you said…it’s not–it doesn’t–you’re not trying to take it back, are you?” What the fuck–that’s not what he meant to say at all.

“No, of course not.” For some reason, Cas sounds angry. “It’s just that I–nothing.” He quickly turns his head to the side, the way he used to do when Dean had hurt his feelings.

“Cas,” Dean says softly. He waits until Cas looks at him. “I was scared to death when I saw that…what that spear did to you. I can’t lose you, man. So, uh, tell me. Whatever’s on your mind, spit it out.” It’s too harsh, too casual, but anything else wouldn’t be Dean.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“What?”

Cas squints at him. “It was a declaration made because I thought it was the last chance I would get to tell you. I couldn’t die without telling you that I…that.”

Dean leans forward again and wipes his hand over his mouth. “You, uh, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. You know I’m not–I’m not very good at the whole, uh, love thing, but I know it’s there. I know we’re–you know, we’re good.”

Cas squints harder and leans forward so they’re only inches apart. “You knew I was in love with you?”

Hold on.

“That’s not–you didn’t–that’s not what you said, man. You didn’t say that.”

“Dean.”

That’s his “quit being a dense idiot, Dean” voice.

Dean huffs a nervous laugh and stares at the table. “Yeah, uh, this would be a hell of a lot easier if you had died.”

Now Cas is laughing, too. “We are terrible at this.”

Dean lifts his eyes shyly. Cas is studying him.

“Do you remember…” Dean stops and sucks in a breath. He shouldn’t be talking about this. “That day in the cemetery, when we all thought I was gonna die.”

Cas nods once but doesn’t say anything.

“I wanted to, uh, say something.” Dean smiles and scratches the back of his head. “Actually, I didn’t. I wanted to–to kiss you.” He winces in embarrassment.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Dean looks sharply over at him.

“If you waited until you were on the brink of death to kiss me, I would’ve killed you myself.”

“You waited until your deathbed to tell me you lo–”

Cas cuts Dean’s argument off with a kiss. It’s just a tentative press of lips, but Dean still lets out a needy, embarrassing whimper as it happens. When Cas pulls away, Dean mumbles, “Nuh-uh,” and grabs him by the cheek to pull him back in. His hip is digging into the edge of the table, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

It’s sloppy and too fast and Cas is breathing heavy and whispering, “I love you,” over and over right against Dean’s mouth and it’s all too much and not nearly enough.

Later, in the pitch black of his room, lying breathless next to an angel, Dean tells Cas that he loves him, too.

I just rewatched the episode, and the scene that just slayed me, was when Aaron told Paddy he was happy.

Aaron didn’t think he could be happy, and probably never felt that magnetic, all-encompassing love that he feels with Robert. Imagine Aaron having these moments, where he just realises that he is happy, moments where it hits him that all the things he thought he could never have are now his reality 

Waking up next to Robert, limbs entangled, smelling of sex and Robert, breathing it in and just laying his head on Robert’s chest and feeling at home.

Coming down to see Robert and Liv having breakfast, his toast ready and the kettle newly boiled for his cup of tea, and knowing he has a family.

Robert giving him a kiss on the cheek as he leaves to go to work and Aaron just smiling like an idiot because Robert Sugden chose him.

Meeting Robert for lunch at the Woolpack, and chatting about anything and everything, and their fingers touch under the table and Aaron just feels good and right and like this is something he could do for the rest of his life. 

Robert getting home late from a meeting, and Aaron has saved him some food, Robert circling his waist with his arms, because they are alone and he’s a soft git, and thanking Aaron before he has dinner, and Aaron not only knowing that he is happy, but that he makes someone else happy.

Lying in bed and listening to Robert brush his teeth, playing with the ring on his finger, waiting for Robert to join him, and feeling completely safe in the knowledge that he will always have Robert to come home to.

Feeling the reverence with which Robert presses kisses to his jaw as they have sex, moaning and touching in all the right places, until they are both undone and Aaron’s mind is completely free of worry, completely blissed out as he pulls Robert to him and lays his arms around him, and he just knows that this is the way he always wants to spend his evenings.