Caféklanten in Casablanca gearresteerd voor eten tijdens ramadan
Caféklanten in Casablanca gearresteerd voor eten tijdens ramadan
De Marokkaanse politie heeft vandaag een inval gedaan in een café in de stad Casablanca. De agenten arresteerden alle Marokkaanse klanten die aten en dronken.
De inval kwam nadat media aandacht schonken aan cafés in Casablanca die overdag eten en drankjes serveren aan Marokkanen.
Volgens het artikel 222 van het Marokkaanse Wetboek van Strafrecht wordt ‘elke persoon waarvan bekend is dat hij/zij…
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Gaz and Price taking care of each other (they r in love and this can be soft or horny whatever u want) 💈💙
Nothing but the softest for these two smooshes!
Fracture
Words: 1k
It was not the first time that John Price had broken bones, not by a long shot, but it was the first time that the healing was being so annoying.
The pain of a fractured shoulder he could about live with, but not being able to do anything properly was driving him up the wall. His clumsy left arm was doing a piss poor job of trying to look after him, especially given that his right was in a sling meaning even his hand was fully out of commission.
He had stubbornly refused to ask for help obviously. He was a bleeding Captain in the SAS, he did not need coddling. When the muppet of a medic had suggested he get help in, some large arsed matron to do his cooking and cleaning and fuss over him, he had promised them that his left hook would work just as well if they didn't drop the issue, give him his meds and send him on his way.
It had been a week and he was living on take out. He was no stranger to being a little grotty out on mission, but never in his own home. He hated not being able to be as meticulous with cleaning both his space and himself, but every stretch was agony on that right shoulder and ran the risk of fucking it up worse if he wasn't more careful.
There was a knock at the door and he wondered if he had ordered food and forgotten about it, possible with the cocodamol even if he was only taking half the recommended dosage (he had seen how Simon had baulked when they gave him all that heavy medication, when they told him how long he should be on it for. There was no way John would ever risk picking up the phone to him and being loopy from pain meds, not when he knew how much it could hurt him and when the pain wasn't so dreadful he couldn’t cope).
It was not a food delivery.
“Gaz?”
“Well invite me in Captain, it's bloody freezing out here.”
Price stood aside in bemusement as his thoroughly bundled up Sergeant politely toed off his shoes and put them neatly to the side before taking off into the house like he owned the place.
Gaz hadn't ever been here before but he hardly waited for the grand tour, instead doing a full sweep with Price trailing after him.
“Trying to find treasure or something Gaz?”
“No sir, just getting the lay of the land.”
“Uh huh. Care to enlighten me as to why?”
Gaz had at this point poked his head in everywhere and they had settled back in the kitchen. Price was sore and tired and a little gross, but none the less he had enough energy to be somewhat embarrassed by the state of the place.
“Junk food is for garbage people.”
Price had the sense to not argue. It was something he always told his team anytime they ordered food to base. If there were facilities to cook, then John Price was damn well going to have a home cooked meal.
“Messy room, messy head.”
Yes ok, technically he used that one pretty often as well. He was always on at them to keep the base tidy and clean.
“Nothing better than a proper soak after a long mission” Gaz finished with a gentle, lopsided smile.
“Gaz…”
“Let me help old man, that's what your team are for.”
So he let him help. The first thing was getting put into a hot bath. Gaz helped him settle, macgyvered a little shelf to sit over the tub for Price to rest his arm on. And then he softly and carefully washed Price's hair.
It was such a strange thing, Price had never really had someone do this for him before. Gaz was gentle, his nails scratching his scalp pleasantly. This felt more vulnerable somehow than being under fire, sitting in the bath with someone he loved paying him such careful attention.
“I might not be the best person to help with the beard, but Soap could probably do it. Did you know he grew one out when he was last on medical leave?”
“That your way of telling me I'm a mess?”
“Oh the rugged look fully does it for me sir, just incase it doesn't for you. Would hate for you to use the sad invalid method that Keller does to lure a nice lady back here and then give her carpet burn.”
He couldn't smack Gaz in his current state, but he did make a valiant attempt at splashing water at him.
“You're a fucking muppet.”
“That's why you like me so much.”
He was almost sad when his hair was rinsed and he was left to soak alone for a bit. He could hear the whirlwind of tidying and cleaning happening around his house and Price couldn't help but enjoy Kyle Garrick being in his space. The man was his home whether Price wanted to admit that or not, so with him here this house had never felt more right.
Christ it was a good thing he wasn't taking full dosage lest it make him say something he might regret.
Gaz returned right as Price was starting to prune and helped him out, fluffy towel at the ready. Honestly he did not need this level of attentiveness, but when he tried to protest Gaz just brushed him off.
“Your job might be to take care of people, but right now you're on leave. It's time for someone to take care of you John.”
Oh. Oh that name sounded wonderful coming from him. Turned out he was a decent cook too, having managed to make a hearty soap from what he could find in the kitchen. For the first time since the fracture John Price felt human again. He was eating a good home cooked meal, the place was tidy and he was clean. The words came easy.
“Love you Kyle.”
“Love you too John.”
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Crosshair: Hey goggles, think you can fix my datapad?
Tech: Depends, what's wrong with it?
Crosshair: Well, let's just say a uh... a friend and I were trying to film something; And to film what we were filming we had to tape the datapad to the ceiling above the bed. NOTHING WEIRD!
Hunter: Ugh, I'm gonna barf.
Crosshair: So anyway, it fell, hit my friend on the head and now it's all messed up.
Hunter: It's not the only thing that's messed up in this equation.
Crosshair: Shut up Hunter, why are you even here?
Hunter: 'Cause you're not gonna know what the hell he's talking about!
Crosshair: I will too!
Tech: So did you back it up?
Crosshair: What, like the dance move?
Tech:
Hunter:
Tech: Right, I'm just going to direct all these questions to Hunter.
Hunter: Yes, I backed up the datapad and it invaled me accidently getting a glimpse of what he was filming and let's just say no amount of bleach in the galaxy will wash those visuals out of my mind.
Crosshair: Question, would the datapad be acting weird if I split some liquid on it?
Tech: How much liquid?
Crosshair: Like a whole bottle of Whyren's Reserve.
Tech: Was this before or after the sex tape?
Crosshair: WHAT SEX TAPE!? NO ONE MENTIONED A SEX TAPE!
Hunter: Just, can you fix it?
Tech: Honesty, I'd rather just take it and salvage what I can out of it, but mostly I feel dirty touching it so I elect to just burn it.
Hunter: I second that.
Crosshair: What a waste of a perfectly good afternoon.
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hello again,back to the AU ive been working, maybe her special power as the soul king blood is like her father, sharing a piece of her soul via her blood to a person to turn them into a quincy like her father, completly independent of yhawch but tied to her instead and without beign able to forcibly recall the fragment to prevent an invalance of power. Is how i was planning introducing zoe earlier.
Oh! The drama!
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