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#British
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Morris Oxford
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theworldofwars · 1 day
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British soldiers tending the graves of the fallen near Blangy, 3 May 1917.
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keirstarmerhateblog · 9 hours
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Had a guy in today with works in the gov, and he was telling me how he had a meeting the other day about the potential blackouts in the new year so they know the protocol
Basically the info is there on the gov site, but the blackouts are 3, 6, and upto 9hrs potentially and go by postcode areas, moving from one to another for 3hr/whatever stints. So they won't be three hours countrywide, and there'll likely be a local news broadcast a few hours in advance to let people know, if it get to the point that blackouts are necessary
Figured it's worth mentioning here, what to kind of expect, just as talk of blackouts seems to have dropped off the radar and its good to have some preemptive ideas
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whoetoshaw · 1 day
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Hi! I absolutely love your writing and am so happy that there's another person writing for the sidemen. I was wondering if you'd write something with Calfreezy, where when out with the troops for dinner or something, everyone kind of notices that Cal and his girlfriend are being really affectionate, and Cal reveals that they're now engaged.
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HINT, HINT | freezy
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summary: you’re engaged to Freezy. [4k words.]
pairing: calfreezy x reader
notes: i hope you like it anon(s) 💗 (and thank you so much for your compliments 🥲) i decided to put both requests together and i think they worked pretty well, i hope you don’t mind! this was so fun to write, let me know what you think! p.s. thank you for all those who have sent requests so far! 🥰 i have received them all and are in the progress of being written!
YOU STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. You couldn’t take your eyes off it, the massive, glistening rock on your finger you’d been given not even a week ago.
Sitting comfortably on the sofa in your flat, you were already reminiscing back to your days abroad where you’d spent the last week and a half, soaking up in the sun and wandering the streets lined with palm trees. Callum and yourself had booked Mallorca as a couple, wanting somewhere you could relax but explore during the day but also provide good nightlife in the evening if you were in the mood to go clubbing.
You’d been with Callum for years, meeting him shortly after moving to London yourself, you were intrigued by his nature at the club, sending the extrovert into an introvert in minor seconds after challenging his cocky demeanor at the bar.
Why, he was smitten by you by the end of the night, managing to grab your name and your number to text you the following day to meet up somewhere less packed and full of drunk bodies and somewhere he wouldn’t be drunk enough to embarrass himself. You’d given the stranger a chance and met up with him for dinner, struck by his charm, his humor, his adorable appearance and shy persona now that he wasn’t being loud and obnoxious in front of his friends, but hey ho, later in the years, it became something you loved about Callum. He made you laugh without even trying, even if his friends found it annoying. The years went by in the blink of an eye, one minute you were celebrating entering your twenties, and the next, you were dreading the thought of being thirty in a couple years, but you were reminded that getting old was a blessing, especially when you got to do it alongside your boyfriend.
You’d booked your couple’s holiday and jetted off months later, excited as it was your first couple’s holiday in a long, long time. Usually, you were accompanied by his friends which usually resulted in a drinking holiday, or with your families, which meant you two acted on your best behavior . . and then ending up drinking again, anyway. But, the couples aspect had you excited as you knew you’d have Callum all to yourself without fighting Chip off him in the club or kicking Harry out of your side of the bed. You absolutely adored his friends and you wouldn’t change a thing about them, the only problem was, around them, there was like an unwritten law everybody followed: nobody showed PDA in front of each other. Callum was your boyfriend and best friend in one but it could be questioned what boy belonged to you when you were all gathered around together, drinking pints and having banter. No indication of who you were romantically involved with. You completely understood, knowing they were a bunch of lads and the sight of any form of affection to their girlfriends, they’d be branded a simp and a complete suck-up: an absolute cringefest, waiting to be slandered by the boys. You didn’t care, you weren’t big on PDA anyway, but sitting at a table outside a pub with the boys, you did wish Callum would at least throw an arm around the back of your chair for when girls walked in and out of it, glancing his way.
Getting older, they seemed to mature and realise it wasn’t such a big deal and as embarrassing as they made it out to be, as you girls knew all along. They could sit with their arms around the back of your chair now, give a subtle kiss on the cheek or keep a hand on your thigh, but even still, whether they got stick for it or not, you were never one to rub PDA in anyone's face. You didn’t like the sight of couples being like that in front of you so why would you do it on someone else? You were an affectionate person but you would absolutely never dare tongue Cal even amongst crowds in a club! PDA was not your thing and it wasn’t his either.
In Majorca, you never had your hands to yourself. Whether it was the fact that you knew none of your friends were around or being in the company of people you knew you’d never see again on this holiday, you were loved up to the max and able to smother your boyfriend in as much lovin’ as you wanted. The holiday made you realise just how in love you still were with the blond even after so many years together. You appreciated everything he did for you and couldn’t fault him for being a good boyfriend. He was still besotted by you to this day, wolf-whistling and biting his knuckles when you walked out of the bathroom dressed to the tens for dinner, sundress and sandals on show for all. Even when you woke up in the morning with a bare face, banging headache and stinking hungover attitude, he still thought how lucky he was to have bagged you, patting himself on the back each day. Even if you did have your days when you shouted at him for leaving the house a mess or shouting so loud at the TV, he knew he was blessed to come home each day to you, to someone who never let a dull day go by. You were his girlfriend and best friend in one (not that he would ever say that out loud for his friends to hear).
You’d grown to see Cal go from a childish 20-year-old to a mature and wise man, as shocking as it was to say, making it through the days where he tried to be relatable by complaining about you online on being a naggy girlfriend (of course kidding . . ) to talking about you in the highest manner and revealing to all how much he was really grateful to have found a woman like you. His friends had noticed the difference in Cal’s maturity also the last couple years, how he seemed really settled and fearless of the future and what it would bring. In fact, he seemed ready head-first to take it on, counting down the days to tick off those milestones.
And then you were in Majorca, when he felt now was the perfect time to make a start:
You’d been trailing in front of him walking the path of the city, fascinated by the lights lighting the way both in the ground and from the fairy lights wrapped around the palm trees. Callum was steps behind you, unable to remove his eyes from your figure pondering the path, hair tied back from your face as your dress lightly blew with each small stride, tight on your curves but loose around your calves. It was your last night. You were here until lunchtime tomorrow then heading straight to the airport to catch your flight home. He had to do it now, when else would he? Everything was perfect.
Well, everything had been perfect up until the moment you’d sat at the most romantic venue outside a restaurant by the beach when it began to lash from the heavens. You’d shared a bewildered look with the boy, wondering how the hell it was raining cats and dogs now in Majorca, having had nothing but days of sunshine since your arrival. It wasn’t so surprising as locals had claimed a storm was coming, but it was still a surprise. It was still a nicer rain than back home, it was still warm and humid and you were protected by the waterproof sheet hanging above the decking of the tables outside. You had just finished your drinks and meal when you had ordered dessert and looked longingly over at the view in front of you. Although it was raining, there was still a stunning little path leading up to a waterfall also lit up alongside other art deco pieces that just added to the romantic aura, capturing anyone’s attention on the beach. “Cal, I really wanted a photo in front of that.” You tutted like it was his fault, sipping the rest of your cocktail.
Callum was in his own world, bubble popped as you addressed him. “Huh?”
“I said I would have loved our photo in front of that. Look at it!” You looked out to the centerpiece, your head on your hand as you could see the stunning pictures on your head that would make it to the gram.
He shrugged. “Go take it.”
“Not in the rain, you moron,” you scoffed obviously.
“Why not? Come on, we can take it,” he sat up from the table, taking you by surprise. Surely he wasn’t being real. There was no way! Your hair would go frizzy and your makeup might run! No, no, no.
“No, it’s okay,” you changed your mind. You didn’t want one that badly.
“Come on, Y/N. So what, you get a little wet? You gonna melt?” He patronized you, holding a hand out for you to take, about to leave without you. “Who cares, your hairs already frizzy.”
“CAL THAT’S NOT FUNNY!” Your hand flew to your head stressfully.
“Come — come here,” he trailed you out of your seat, and without being able to argue him, you were laughing at his adamance, shrieking and still laughing as the rain soaked your skin. He laughed, leading you to the decoration. Although the rain wasn’t stopping, it wasn’t harsh and pelting off you, but light and smothering. You starred at each other with the water dripping from your lashes, you shaking your head at him while throwing your arms around his neck. “You’re a dickhead,” you mumbled against his lips, giving him a sweet kiss.
“Your dickhead,” he smiled, taking a hold of your wrists to hold them in a waltz position, leading you in a dance to match the gentle strings coming from the restaurant’s live band. You laughed even harder, seeing just how laidback Callum had been this entire holiday with no shame in being his stupid hopeless-romantic self.
“You are a cringeball, look at the state of me!” You laughed, letting him have his moment as you slow-danced on the sand, twirling you around. The music and waves of the beach had a nice harmony going, and Cal waved someone down from the decking to take your pictures. “MATE! You wouldn’t do me a favour?!”
You were embarrassed now, wishing you hadn’t even mentioned wanting your picture taken, now that the rain had turned your entire figure damp. Again though, it was a light shower and comfortingly warm, but still - you hoped your makeup meant it when it promised you it was waterproof. “Cal, you’re actually an idiot.” You watched this poor man get the perfect shot of you both on the beach.
“She wanted the photo!” He pointed to you, and your jaw dropped. Is he serious?! Before you could argue, he only turned to you with a joking smile and planted another kiss on your lips, unknowing if your photographer had gotten it or not. “You know I love you, don’t you?” You shook your head into his shoulder, closing your eyes in a bliss, proceeding with your sappy slow dance that was secretly making your heart burst. Of course you knew he loved you. And you loved him just as much back, and even more. Who else would get you to dance out in the rain, in public? Swaying side to side to the soothing tune, you didn’t want the moment to end. You were so in love with this boy. You didn’t want your holiday to be over.
“Will you marry me?”
You didn’t realise at first. Your eyes shot open at the muffled sentence you'd heard in your ear and tried to replay what you thought you’d heard. Callum felt your body tense at what you thought was a misinterpretation, but he’d been clear as day, and he meant it. He let his hands slip from your back as you pulled away and felt his hand grab yours. You looked up at him nervously, not wanting to be embarrassed if he was playing a trick on you. He did not say that. “Callum.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, fingers shaking a little bit as they reached for the pocket of his shorts, and your jaw went slack. Your hands flew to your mouth in shock as he got down on one knee, rain still spraying down on you as his knee hit the sand. You were shaking your head in disbelief, unbelieving this day was happening. “Cal!”
“Y/N, will you marry me?” He laughed, the look on your face something he would never forget. He opened the box to reveal the the most beautiful jewel you had laid your eyes on, mesmerized by the sparkling of the stone. From the colour, to the shape, to the size, it was perfect. It was just what you would’ve wanted. It was just you.
Rain or no rain, droplets streamed down your cheek as you nodded ecstatically, overwhelmed with shock this was happening. “Yes!” You nodded, “yes! Of course! Obviously!” You threw yourself around him, squeezing every bone in his body as you embarrassingly sobbed with happiness, shaking when he slipped the silver on your finger. The smile couldn’t be wiped off his face, he was almost surprised he hadn’t welled up at your reaction. You were the most sweetest, most adorable, most funniest and most lovable person he’d ever met, and he wanted to make you all his. You were all his.
“It’s gorgeous, Cal,” you sniffed, back under the protection of the canopy of the restaurant, already drying from the breezy fans and heaters.
“You’re gorgeous,” he leaned over to place a loving kiss on your cheek, a great overwhelming feeling of love and devotion washing over him every time he seen that smile on your face. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
You were crying again, just in time as the restaurant brought out your dessert celebration with a sparkler in it.
Now you were back in London, dressed up and waiting for him to finish getting ready himself as you were headed out for a few drinks with the troops after being away. Nobody knew about what had gone down in Majorca (the both of you), Callum hadn’t even talked to the boys about thinking of proposing to you, so it would be a great shock to everybody. You'd only phoned your Mum and your family, as well as his, and shared the news over FaceTime, the stunning ring and your tear-stained face on full display. They were (of course) over the moon.
You wanted to tell few of your friends first before posting it online, although you’d been discussing with Cal how you would drop the bomb:
“I say just see how long it takes for them to notice.”
“Are you serious? They’ll never notice with their drinking rate,” you replied, half-serious and half-joking. Although, it would be fun to see who would catch on first.
“I know. But don’t make it obvious!”
You were outside, sitting at a table at your friend group’s personal favorite pub, waiting for the others to arrive just as you sat down. Not before long, they started to arrive, one by one and in pairs: Harry, Chip and Theo, Lux, Chris, Gib and Behz and possibly more on their way. Each greeted you both, little handshakes, pats on the back and a hug for you, nothing unusual. “Good holiday mate?”
“Phenomenal, my guy. I cannot recommend it enough,” he nodded, setting down the handful of pints he’d managed to carry. Behz placed the other lot down as you all lifted one and clinked glasses, hoping you didn’t look too smug as you smiled. “Yeah, it was so good. Definitely be back.” It was now a very special place.
“I can tell, that smile on your face is hiding something I don’t know if I want to know!” Harry said, erupting laughs from the table. You rolled your eyes at his dirty mind as you felt Cal shift next to you and throw his arm around your shoulder, and then placed a kiss on your cheek which took you by surprise. You smiled and took another gulp of your drink.
Chip asked what activities you were able to do there and Ethan quizzed you on the nightclubs and how good their nightlife was. Soon after your holiday talk was over and done with (no longer wanting to be depressed by your sensational stories) the conversation switched from football, to work drama, to future hang-out sessions and more. You had missed the lot and it was fun to be around them, especially when everyone started getting tipsy pretty quickly.
And then drunk.
“Y/N. You’re a bore. You’re a bore. What I’m sayin– Y/N. Shut up. Nobody even likes you, why’re you here,” Chip was waving you off as you sat there with an ache in your stomach, laughing so hard at his absolutely peppered state. You loved getting under his skin.
Cal watched you handle yourself amongst them all, being the target for the night as nobody seemed to bring their girlfriends, pinning you the loner who didn’t have their own friends. But you got your own back and had them silenced with your insults, all the more reason he was so in love with you. He had been pressed to you all evening: arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, and constantly mumbling questions in your ear if you needed anything. “Do you want another drink?”
You turned to him quietly, the others too preoccupied by Chip’s vicious arguing against Theo now, and shook your head. “No, I’m alright. You drink yours, though,” you nodded to the half-touched glass. It was unusual to see Callum pace himself, you knew there was nothing more he loved to do aside from you was getting pissed with his boys. Tonight, he’d been drinking but in the span of the two drinks his friends would have, he’d only be seeing off one. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding. He just didn’t feel the need to get drunk — for the first time ever. It was like he was still running off a buzz. “I’m fine, are you?” Your eyes dropped to his thumb stroking your hand, running over the rock on your finger and smiled knowingly at him. God, he was so cute. He smiled at the sight of you, and leaned in for a kiss.
“Alright, alright, you two. Jesus Christ. Don’t be so bloody disrespect—” Chip couldn’t finish his yapping when Cal threw the boy’s wrinkled hoodie in his face, knocking the glass in his hand and splashing it slightly on his shirt. He was getting tired of his interfering with you.
Everyone laughed, seeing how drunk Chip was and clapped at Freezy, seeing him slouched on your shoulder. Even looking at him, there was a difference about his aroma, like he was happy but, he wasn’t even tipsy. Like, he wasn’t happy-drunk. He was clearly thrilled just as himself. It was strange. Anyone who passed them would think Harry had an issue as he starred at you both most of the night, trying to figure out what was going on and why his best mate seemed such a clinger. He’d even asked Ethan if he’d heard of him mentioning if he was unwell and Ethan agreed he wasn’t his usual self. Not that it was a bad thing, it was just like . . something was too good to be true. Freezy was planning something.
“Maybe if you didn’t live by your fucking self, you’d fucking know,” you’d retorted something smart back at Theo, earning cackles from the group, including high-pitched shrieks from Gib and your boyfriend. Callum smacked his hand down on your thigh comically and pulled his arm hypingly around your neck, pressing a smooch to your head. “GOD, I LOVE YOU!”
Everyone was still laughing while he went and got the next round and you smiled with pride, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
When he came back, you were convinced this was the last round before you felt like heading him, personally. Everyone else was pissed and you didn’t know if you could do a bar crawl with Chip and Theo pesting you. Callum was slouched low in his seat; his hand still on your leg despite his eyes being on Gib necking his pint, and your arm hung around his shoulder, fingers tingling to smooth out his hair on top his head if he hadn’t laced them with his.
“Y/N, can I try this?” a drunk Behz was already reaching for the dish you’d ordered earlier as you nodded encouragingly, moving the fork out his way.
“Yeah, let me get a bit,” you heard from next to you, so doing him the favour, you twirled the food around the fork and held your hand beneath as you guided it to his mouth, Cal’s face displaying confusion as he made the decision whether he liked it or not. “It’s alright you know?” He looked to his friend for an agreement.
“‘Make me sick looking at you two,” he chomped down on it anyway, finally getting his dig in.
You raised your brows, having never heard that before and looked to Harry beside him who sniggered as well. You looked around, raising a brow, “what?”
“You two are vomit this night.” Another piped.
“WOULD IT KILL YOU TO BE HAPPY FOR US?!” Calfreezy yelled obnoxiously loud, trying to be funny as he lay still in his slumped seat, just about revealing his head from under the table.
They pulled faces at that, and Cal (slightly tipsily) clawed for your hand near his shoulder, and finally, he squeezed your fingers, drawing attention for everyone to look at your hand, and finally see the massive stud on your ring finger.
“NO FUCKING WAY!”
“GET FUCKED!! MATE!!”
“What’s ‘appenin’ now? What’d she say?”
“JOSH, LAD, THEY'RE FUCKING ENGAGED!” Theo shook his body.
Laughs filled your stomach as they all responded in different ways in disbelief, Harry had nearly flipped the table he stood up so quickly in shock and Chris had paced away with his hands on his head. Gib looked like he was going to cry and Lux sat with his eyes covered by his palms.
“NO WAY!”
“YOU'RE KIDDING! YOU'RE KIDDING!” Behz cackled.
“OI! I’m best man.”
“I’m so alone.”
“Oh, Harry,” you rubbed his back as he finally came to hug you. You both received your congratulations and hugs of happiness, the emotions getting high again as each one embraced you, stating their happiness for you both.
“I hate you,” Chip said with the biggest smile on his face, shaking his head at you whilst squeezing you in the most heartfelt hug. You squeezed him back. “Congrats, fella.”
Ethan shook Cal’s hand over the table, “smashed it mate. I am screaming for you both.”
“Y/N, can I try on your ring?”
“No, Chris!”
“It’d probably fit him to be fair.”
“Harry, that’s so mean.”
“I’m not lying!”
“What charity shop you’d scrape that up in?” Callux joked, eyeing it on your hand. “D’you pawn it?”
“You’re a prick.”
They all laughed at that and demanded another round for celebration, cheering you both as you blushed at the attention.
“YOU'RE GONNA BE MRS AIREY!!!!!” The sound of Chip’s squealing voice deafened your ear, shaking of your body made you laugh, and although the sound irritated and almost burst your eardrum, you couldn’t deny your liking of the sound of that.
Mrs Airey.
You were going to be Mrs Airey.
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cinemablogs · 2 days
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Blackadder Goes Forth
Starring: Rowan Atkinson, Tony Robinson, Hugh Laurie, & Stephen Fry UK, 1989
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A little something made by me in honor of this momentous occasion
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theonewiththesoks · 3 months
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“The Queen has d-”
*Opens tumblr*
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thebctman · 3 months
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Everybody cheers to my great grandpa, he has now outlived dear old Lizzie and is OLDER than her mashallah
He’s lived through colonization, the partition, traveled from India to Pakistan, the rise and fall of many governments and has now lived to see 3 British rulers.
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monkeyfishgirl · 3 months
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If I find out the Queen has died from the news and not Destiel crab raves can I still consider myself terminally online?
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classiccarsincyprus · 20 hours
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MG BGT
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theworldofwars · 2 days
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British soldiers firing a field gun 1914. Note the men covering their ears. It was common practice to cover your ears and open your mouth when artillery guns were being fired, due to the pressure. 
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keirstarmerhateblog · 3 months
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mayor-swana · 3 months
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I think the queen personally possessed this screenshot to scew the numbers.
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illustratus · 4 months
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King Arthur's sword Excalibur and the hand emerging from the lake
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loz37 · 1 month
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flimflix · 2 years
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‘’Prince Phillip’s up there with good ol Maggie now!’‘
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