#Hotel Bookings South Africa

[cheriladycl01]

So, you lied to me? - Lando Norris x Tourist! Reader

Plot: Going on a travel year you end up in Monaco, the plan wasn't too fall for the man who helped you to the British Embassy and gave you a place to stay when someone stole everything from you ...

You took a gap year before university and decided to travel you'd started off the New Year on a flight from London, to Qatar to New Zealand. You travelled around New Zealand and Australia for the majority of January, before moving on to Papa New Guinea, Fiji and Samoa.

You then travelled round the South Asian countries, like Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam and the Philippines and Taiwan all throughout February. You then moved onto China, doing both Disney Parks while you were there and sight seeing. You did South Korea and Japan.

Coming into April, you moved onto Sri Lanka and India, and The Middle East, doing Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Bahrian, Qatar, Oman and Saudi Arabia.

Afterwards, now having done 2 continents, you moved onto Africa, you spent the end of April and the majority of May travelling here, before leaving for Europe.

A nice 2 weeks island hopping around Greece, before a week travelling up the boot of Italy.

It was when you drove to Monaco in a rental car that things got difficult.

You were walking along the harbor where all the expensive yachts were docked wishing that one could be yours. You didn't have all your bags on you, the larger ones left behind in the hotel room you'd booked for the night. But you had your important stuff on you, like you passport, your drivers license and all your travel documents.

You were taking a picture on your nice Canon camera of the yachts and the street that had weird red corners rounding it that you put down to being measures to just help drivers slow down round the corners, but they were definitely an eyesore.

Every time nice cars drove by there was whistles and claps that made you look at what car it was, you could never tell what model it was but they looked nice and you guess you could say sporty.

As you were distracted taking your pictures a guy comes up to you with a small, parcel cutting knife in his hand. He slit the straps of what you thought was a really sturdy bag and the weight notifies you to the loss of the bag. You let your camera drop as you turn to see the guy now holding your bag and starting to run away with it.

"Hey! Stop" you shout before running after him.

"Aide, Aide" you shout as you continue to follow him, your minimal French not helping as people scold you for being a bustly tourist.

You aren't really looking where you going and you loose him at a busy intersection of people, you spin round looking at every possible direction he could have gone in.

"Shit!" you whisper to yourself quietly tears coming in your eyes. You spin round a little to quickly, bumping into someone who drops the bag that they were holding.

"Désolé, mon erreur" you try looking at the young gentleman you'd bumped into in a hoodie and jeans. He looks at you with a confused look, a smirk coming onto his face.

"Oh sorry, tu ne parles pas français? Maybe Italian, erm fuck scusa, parli italiano?" you ask with again the bare minimum of Italian you know.

"I speak perfectly good English" he smiles, laughing a little as your expression turns to shock.

"Oh! Oh I'm so stupid. Hello!" you smile looking at the very attractive man in front of you, you blushed a little looking up at him.

"You look panicked what's wrong?" he asks.

"I was tacking pictures of the harbor and some guy took my bag. It has everything in of mine and I don't know what to do" You say to him looking a little more panicked.

"Everything as in money ... because I can help with that" he says placing a hand on your arm.

"I don't care about the money, but he has all of my documents. My passport, my drivers license everything" you cry a little.

"Oh! Erm, I have a friend who was born here, and let me get him and he can help us file a police report. Then mmm the British Embassy is all the way in Paris and you cant get a flight so we'll have to drive there..." he starts to rant and your face turned shocked.

"We?" you ask, confused as to how this guy has just inserted himself into your life drama's.

"Oh yeah, I've gotta help you out now. You got that whole damsel in distress thing going on right now! Any way damsel, what's your name?" he jokes and you look over at him offended.

"I am not a damsel in distress! And Y/N" you retort.

"You so are, the tear stains, the wide, helpless eyes, the guppy fish face your pulling right now, the butchered French and Italian to a strange man who actually is British... Y/N" he laughs making you pout and push him a little.

"I don't even have a place to stay after 3pm today and I cant check in anywhere without ID" you say rubbing your head, looking around as if the man would randomly pop back up and hand you your bag back before saying how sorry he was.

"You can stay at my place, I have two spare bedrooms" he smiles and you look at him in shock.

"You live here, in Monaco ..." you ask.

"Yeah, I moved here a few years ago, for ...work" he offers, he phones his friend walking off for a few seconds alone before he pulls you along one of the side streets and too a quiet cafe he went to, to keep under wraps.

"Okay, Y/N this is my friend ... er Percy" he says pointing to Charles, so far you hadn't shown any signs of knowing who he is and he didn't want you to catch wind of that.

"Hello Percy, its nice to meet you" you smile and he looks at you with a vacant yet confused expression.

"Oh and whose this you are beautiful" you compliment looking at the girl behind him.

"Y/N this is my girlfriend Alex" Charles indicates to Alex behind him who smiles and pulls you in for a kind hug that you definitely needed. You could hear both of their strong accents as they introduced himself.

"Oh, I never got you name, what's your name?" you ask turning to look at Lando, who freezes for a second.

"Erm, my names Robert, but you can call me Bob" he smiles and you raise and eyebrow at him.

"Hmmm, you don't look like a Robert... or a Bob. Interesting choice" you voice your opinion making everyone awkwardly laugh.

Charles, Lando and Alex took you to the nearest police station in Monaco, Charles translated what they were saying and you answered to which he and Alex would help translate back.

Charles explained that they were escalating it because you are a tourist in need, but you picked up some words that made the sentence not sound like that at all.

You were asked if you had a place to say and Lando explained you'd be staying with him until everything was sorted out.

The Monegasque police got in contact with the Paris British Embassy for you, they explained that the police had sent over you information and if you wanted to hold off on a new passport for a few days to see if it would turn up you were more than welcome, but right now your passport was on lockdown.

And that was how you ended up spending the end of July and all of August with Lando, it was strange really. For a man who had and extremely nice collection of clothes and a very large apartment he didn't go to work often. There was one room you weren't allowed in which is where he often went, you assumed it was a man cave or gaming room where he played with his friends because you heard lots of shouting and aggressive banging.

He'd been so sweet, he took you on dates from going out to dinner, to picnics, to going swimming and lots more. It felt like more than a summer fling. Especially once he asked you to be his girlfriend, which you immediately said yes too.

But he got a lot more twitchy after he had.

Eventually, Lando or Bob as you knew him took you to Paris so you could get your passport. He explained that he travelled a lot for work and he would need to leave soon and you explained that before you bumped into him you'd been on a gap year travelling the world.

"Baby, why don't you come with me?" he asked randomly as you were both lying on the sofa, cuddling while watching a film.

"You wont even tell me what you do for work Baby! And besides I had a schedule that I'm already behind on. A week ago you said you didn't mind going our separate ways for a little bit until Christmas and then you'd come to England with me" you say playing with his curls.

"Okay, I'm going to be honest with you now... my name isn't Bob" he says shyly and you sit up at the speed of light turning to look at him.

"I knew it! So you lied to me?" you exclaim laughing.

"So, what's my boyfriends actual name?" you ask looking him dead in the eyes, he leans up on his elbows before sitting the full way up.

"Lando, I am Lando Norris" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, Lando... Lando. I could get used to that" you smile.

"You aren't mad?" he asks looking over you, brushing you hair back and tucking it behind your ear before kissing your cheek.

"I knew you weren't being completely honest when we first met... but I also knew you had your own reasons" you offer.

"I think its going to be easier if I just hand you my Instagram" he admits with a gulp as he hands you his phone. The first thing you notice is how many followers he had, there was around 10million and he had nearly 2,500 posts.

You look at the friends list, and one peeks your interest. Charles Leclerc, who looked exactly like Percy who Lando had introduced you too.

You then go back and look at his bio, that told you his actual job.

"So, I'm dating a super famous athlete?" you ask looking up at him away from the phone to see his head down in his hands. He turns to the side to sneak a look at your expression, his eyes a little glossy.

"To be specific, a Formula 1 driver" you ask again and he nods.

"You are such a muppet, my god" you laugh before pulling him into a hug.

"How aren't you upset with me?" he ask unsure.

"Well, I agreed to date you, because you are you. I doubt you change into Mr Hyde when you become a what was is Porsche race-car driver? I fell in love with you, not Bob, not Lando, you. So whether that is Bob, who kindly helped a crying lady on the street who just had her passport stolen from her, or Lando a cool and amazing race-car driver. Whoever you are is the person I love" you grin and he pulls you into a hug.

"So you want to join me for the last few races? Or you want to finish this world trip of yours?" he asks.

"Well, looking at your calendar, I can actually meet you at the rest of the races, While travelling. I'll continue to do Europe until you have the Netherlands, and ill go back to Italy, just for you. I'll miss Azerbaijan and Singapore because I did that, but I'll knock out some of South America, I'll meet you for Austin, then we can do Mexico and Brazil together, then we can do Vegas together! And by that point I can call it done with my trip!" you exclaim and he looks like he considers it for a second.

He's shocked, he cant remember the last time a girlfriend tried so hard to link up their schedules like this, and proved that they'd be able to work despite some potential scheduling issues.

"I love you. I fucking love you" he grins pulling you back down onto the sofa kissing all over your face making you giggle.

A/N: I've been doing a lot of Lando recently, I don't know if you can tell but I love writing about him, he's my fav to write about right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @viennakarma

[dozing-marshmallow]

I looooooooove the chris x wife! reader fic that you wrote!! It got me kicking my feet and blushing 😊 By any chance, could you write a chris x wife! reader going on their honeymoon?

Awww this is such a cute idea, thank you so much, I’m so happy to hear that you loved the last one! ⋆˙⟡♡  I had to get something out on the man’s birthday as soon as I could and this request was the one I was fixated on finishing the most, so do enjoy reading and McLean’s bday ~💗!

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! READER ON HONEYMOON HEADCANONS

Most newly wed couples go to just one location for their honeymoon.

Yet it was very poor of you to think that standard would apply to Chris.

You didn’t realise until he informed you that you were gonna go to two countries per continent(apart from Antartica, cuz what the hell): Barbados and Costa Rica for North America, Brazil and Colombia for South America, France and Italy for Europe, Thailand and (The) Philippines for Asia, Morocco and Tunisia for Africa, French Polynesia and Australia for Oceania.

The only reason why Chris cut it to two instead of four was because he suspected you would get sick of travelling, and didn’t want you to be complaining on holiday.

“Chriiis, we don’t need to, you know!” you’re verbal about your humble take on the honeymoon as Chris made his long list based on the notes he wrote from his and your opinions,“This is all so costly! We could really go to two continents instead!”

“Huh?” he looks at you, confusion scratching into the space between his eyebrows,“(Y/N), this is literally nothing. You seriously wanna spend our whole two months of celebrating marriage in one place like working class people?”

Harsh, but it’s fine because it’s Chris.

Before you left, he took you on a massive shopping spree where it had not even been the beginning of him pampering you with all the jewellery, the swimsuits and the candies.

This guy doesn’t need to book reservations: the best hotels, air BNBs, holiday homes, you name the one you want to stay at the country and baam. Availability opens a door and charm hands over the keys.

He also hired a chaperone for each country, but most of the time, only for the arrival and departure; he wanted more alone time with you.

At this rate, you wondered if he needed to pay to enter the countries asides from paying the fuel and landing runway.

That’s right. You were getting there by his jet -he ended up upgrading- to each location.

Since it wasn’t meant to carry fifteen contestants this time, Chris abolished the loser and first class section in the new version of his plane to be furnished completely into his headquarters.

During each jet ride, you and Chris would review helpful phrases and attractions that would enhance the experience.

“So in France, we will have to remember to say “bonsoir” from 6 PM onwards.” you reiterate.

“That’s doable.” Chris comments, leaning back in his chair.

“And they don’t like smiling a lot.” you add, doing it yourself.

His relaxation ended,“Bummer. D’you think they can make an exception for me? My resting face is a smile.”

They did- in every place.

The honeymoon was an epoch for Chris to meet his fans from all over the world. If you had a dollar for every autograph he signed the entire getaway, you would have enough money to have your own jet.

Weirdly enough, Chris lost genuine pleasure to greet his global admirers and increasingly rushed the interactions.

“It’s okay to be more attentive to your fans, Chris.” you insist, with your head on his bare body, laying around somewhere on the warm Tunisian beach.

“Nah.” he differs with his hand scrubbing sand on your back,“I came on holiday with you, not them. I couldn’t leave you by yourself.”

Aw. You love your husband,“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He bought you anything that caught your eye. Clothes, hats, rings, ice cream, souvenirs.

Chris had also bought five cameras. He wasn’t letting a single moment of a scenery or pose go to waste.

Be prepared for the day when he eventually gets them all printed out and stuck in fresh albums and wants to reminisce with you.

He took you to the best restaurants, never settling for one less than five stars (maybe four if you persuaded him enough).

“To another exceptional night of our honeymoon!” he raises his glass of happiness.

You copy, both clinking and declaring cheers.

Going back to your accommodation, Chris would have you carried until the first descent onto the fine duvets.

Let’s just say that, by the time you do get back to Canada, both husband and wife’s necks have never been more wine red.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Another Pattern: She's a Saboteur

I can't stay here, it's off brand-London

I can't stay here, fire hazard-South Africa

I can't stay here, security threat-Nigeria

Conclusion

When she's pre-booked for "complimentary" hotel accommodations that are beneath her standards, MEgain (Queen Jezebel 2.0) pretends to go along with "their plan," but all the while she's taking deliberate steps to undermine the reservation.

Palace aides observed a similar pattern during her 72 days of "work" in the BRF---she set-up the "role" to fail from the very beginning. #conartist

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 12 - Romantic Getaway

Miguel steals you away to the Canary Islands, specifically to Tenerife. What sort of adventures will you share together?

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Word count - 3697

Minors DNI

Contains : Mentions of sex, nothing too graphic. Mostly fluff and perhaps a moment of confrontation.

AND - Yes, the photos included are from my trip there. My husband and I took these pictures.

AND- Yes, the spectacle that happened at the end did in fact happen. Probably one of the most amazing things I've seen in my life.

Enjoy! xx

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

If you enjoy this fic, please consider liking, commenting or re-blogging. Many thanks xx

The summer sun beats down on Playa Paraiso, a south-western part of Tenerife. A large island owned by Spain off of the west coast of Africa. It is just one of seven of the Canary Islands.

You feel like you’re back in paradise with Miguel; you have a sea view from your balcony and palm trees littering the beautiful hotel gardens.

The food is amazing, there’s always a wide variety and the main restaurant has a different theme each night. Peter would be in absolute heaven if he was here, you consider letting him know this place exists.

There’s three swimming pools, tennis courts, an archery range, a large play area for children, a couple of bars, three restaurants, a spa, a pool table and ping pong table too. All spread out over the vast hotel grounds.

Of course Miguel booked an executive room, which is spacious and nicely decorated. You would have been happy having a cheaper room but your boyfriend enjoys the finer things especially when you’re concerned.

When you’re not out and about in the hotel’s public areas, you’re in your room, being fucked by Miguel. You kind of lose your first couple of days of your holiday to mainly sex as you try to get over jet lag - not the worst way to spend time, let’s be honest…

He has taken you in every part of your room. You have a bedroom, living room area and bathroom. If there is a surface he can fuck you on, he’ll use it.

There’s not a time in your life before meeting Miguel that you can recall having so much sex. Never in your life have you met anyone like Miguel too. His strength and stamina blows your mind and so do the orgasms he gives you.

It’s safe to say, you’ll never be satisfied with another man. The way he fills you, the attention he gives you. No sexual request is too much to ask or too taxing on him. He’ll eat you out, suckle on your breasts, fill you with his fingers or rock-hard shaft; he’d even play with your ass if you asked him - but you’re not quite brave enough to go there yet.

You adore his passionate face as he makes love to you, his eyebrows knitting together and slanting downwards as if he’s lost in the moment, pleading with you to let him keep going, desperately promising you more pleasure that he’s sure to deliver on. All the while, you lay underneath him, legs wide apart and taking him exquisitely deep inside.

During the times between passionate lovemaking, there’s the wholesome moments too where you cradle his handsome head against your chest as he rests on you in bed.

Long, tanned fingers dance over your breasts and stomach as he watches your sensitive buds and goosebumps rise to his delicate touch. He fails to resist latching onto one of your erect nipples and sucking on it tenderly as his hand slides down to between your legs as if it has a mind of its own. Starting the heated intimacy all over again.

“I’ve booked us an excursion,” Miguel announces over breakfast before taking a gulp of slightly cooled coffee.

You both eat outside as the warmth of the morning sun embraces your skin.

“Oh? Where are we going?” you ask just before you bite into your sweet pastry.

Tiny finches flit about the dining area. Occasionally, you feel the brush of their wings against your legs as they fly under your table, picking up crumbs of food from the white tiled floor.

“You’ll need something warm to wear because we’re going up Mount Teide this evening.” (Teide rhymes with Lady - if you want to know how to pronounce it)

Miguel gets his phone out to read an email containing the information of the excursion he booked.

“It’ll be a coach tour, but we'll be taken to the observatories up there to watch the sunset, with a glass of champagne in hand.”

You listen intently, watching him smile as he looks exceedingly pleased with himself for booking this for the both of you.

“Aww, that sounds very romantic,” you comment, thinking that is all the excursion consists of.

“That’s not all, chiquita,” he pauses before reading the next bit.

“We’ll be taken to a restaurant up there and be served dinner. Then, once it’s totally dark, we’ll be stargazing.”

Now you know why he said you needed warm clothing. Mountains can get considerably colder than the rest of the land below, especially at night. You won’t freeze at this time of year, but it might not be comfortable.

The trip sounds incredible and romantic. It’ll be nice to get out of the hotel, and going on this excursion sounds perfect.

“I can’t wait to go. Thank you for booking it.”

You flash him an excited smile. This is sure a precious day you’ll commit to your memory and reminisce over in years to come.

“I expect you’ve seen the night sky a lot haven’t you?” you ask Miguel before taking a sip of your orange juice.

He puts his phone down on the table and picks up his cup of coffee again.

“Quite a bit of it, yes,” he replies before taking another gulp.

“What things have you seen up there?”

Your eyes look up at the sky as you ask him, while leaning against the table with your elbows, supporting your head with your hands.

Miguel thinks for a moment to remember what he’s witnessed.

“Plenty of Aurora Borealis or northern lights - whatever you want to call them. And I’ve flown over countless thunderstorms - I’ve even seen sprites.”

He flashes a charming smile as if he knows this will spur an interesting conversation.

“Sprites?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, these are things you’ve never heard of.

An image of a creature from some fantastical world where fairies exist pops into your mind, but surely he doesn’t mean that…

“I don’t know the science behind them,” he begins as he places his empty coffee cup back down on the table.

“They’re largely not very well understood, but they appear high over the top of thunder clouds. Some sort of red electrical discharge up in the earth’s atmosphere. They’re quite beautiful, but surprising to see for the first time. I had no idea they existed before I started flying at higher altitudes.”

You find his flying stories fascinating, but you feel like he’s pulling your leg with this story.

“Oh - whatever,” you reply with a smirk, “are you kidding?”

“I’m not! I swear. Here, I’ll find a video of one, give me a sec...”

Miguel picks up his phone again, but before he can open up Google, his phone buzzes in his hand. A text message from Xina…

“Where are you? You’ve not been home for a few days.”

You notice Miguel’s expression fall when he sees what’s on his screen.

“You okay, Miguel?” you ask as you wonder what he’s seen that’s upset him.

“Uhh, it’s nothing. Just some irritating mail I have to respond to, I’ll find a video in a moment.”

Your lips press into a thin line. He’s lying. You’ve noticed over the last couple of weeks that something has been bothering him.

His thumbs tap against his phone-screen as he types a message back to Xina while he endeavours to keep his cool.

“Over three-thousand miles away from you and having a great time.”

He puts his phone in Do Not Disturb mode and looks for the video to prove the existence of sprites.

Sure enough, they do in fact exist, and they’re stunning - just rare to witness and hard to see with the naked eye. From what you can see in the video, they look like red columns of light with thin tree roots sprouting below them. You consider Miguel lucky to have seen this phenomenon.

The Captain leaves his phone on Do Not Disturb. The silence that follows is bliss - no more irritating buzzes dampening his fun with you.

Sitting at the back of the coach, Miguel stretches his long legs out down the middle. The poor guy has to bend to walk all the way to the back. You’re happy to get the window seat as he sits beside you.

Thankfully the coach isn’t full during the trip and other passengers are situated more towards the front, allowing you to have private conversations without being overheard as the bus weaves its way up the volcano.

A low layer of cloud is now below you, lapping against the slopes of the mountain like a foamy sea. You slide your phone out of your pocket to take a picture of the breath-taking view.

“That’s a great picture,” Miguel compliments you as he leans over, instantly warming you up.

His closeness gives you the opportunity to sneak a kiss, pressing your lips against his cheek. You feel his arms wrap around you, making sure you can’t escape. He needs more of your affection. Soft giggles fill the back of the bus as he nuzzles into you and plants a few tender kisses of his own against your lips and around your beautiful face.

The coach takes what feels like the hundredth turn on the road that snakes its way up the volcano. All you can see for the next few minutes is rock and yellowing grass. It’s clear this part of Tenerife doesn’t get much in the way of wetter weather.

You lean against his chest, as he rests his head against yours, you both sit in silence for a little while, until you decide to confront him about the business with his phone.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s really been going on?”

Miguel’s body stiffens slightly at your question and his arms tighten momentarily. A gentle nuzzle against your head indicates he’s uncomfortable, or feeling unsure about what to say.

“What do you mean?” he asks, but it’s a feeble attempt to pretend to not know what you’re talking about.

“Something’s bothering you on your phone, what is it?”

You re-adjust your head position so you can look up at him while your fingers run over the soft material of his shirt.

He pulls you closer and nuzzles against you more firmly.

“I don’t want to ruin the great time we’re having, baby.”

His hand caresses your cheek before he gives you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Please tell me.”

Your pleading breaks his resolve. It’s not fair that he’s keeping this from you, but he worries about the impact it will have on you. Eventually he pulls away after steeling himself to admit what’s been happening.

“Remember Xina? The woman who tried to visit the other week?”

You cast your mind back to the mid-length, black haired woman who was standing at his penthouse door when you opened it.

“Yeah?” you reply, raising a curious eyebrow.

The coach’s engine revs louder for a moment as it powers on up a slightly steeper incline.

“She’s my ex-wife.”

Miguel’s voice is quiet, full of concern as to what you’re going to make of this bit of news.

A booming-like feeling thuds in your chest as your heart skips a beat. Your hand takes his, squeezing his fingers slightly.

“What’s she doing visiting you?”

He shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are. She’s been texting me since that evening, but I’ve been pushing her back every time.”

“Pushing her back? Why? What’s she been saying?” you ask as your eyebrows knit together with growing concern.

Your worried expression breaks Miguel’s heart. If only you know just how upset Xina’s unexpected interference is making him.

“She claims she wants me back, but sweetheart, you have to understand I do not want that.”

He raises your hand to his lips and delivers a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“She had her chance with me - she had it all, but she rejected it. I have the tendency to never revisit old relationships, no matter how important they were to me at the time.”

Miguel then reaches for his phone.

“For complete transparency, look at the messages so you can see that I have no interest.”

You nearly back out of looking at his phone. For some reason, hearing that Xina is pursuing Miguel again hurts you more than you thought it might. The blood in your veins runs cold as he opens up the conversation, but he hesitates as another text comes in. One that he received earlier but the Do Not Disturb feature silenced it.

“Are you with her?”

The text simply reads, however you can’t help but detect the venom behind the last word.

He shows you the whole conversation starting from the night she knocked on his door. You notice Miguel’s attitude towards her in his texts are blunt and to the point. There’s no way his responses could be misconstrued. He’s not interested and that’s that. End of story.

“She hurt me a great deal when she no longer wanted to cooperate with me in keeping our marriage alive. It’s dead in the water now, and there’s no way I’m going to waste my time reviving it on a whim.”

You believe him; the sincerity in his eyes is compelling. You may have only been seeing him for a couple of months but that time has been well spent being up close and personal, getting to know his character.

“I understand,” you tell him, putting on a smile; a brave face in which he notices immediately.

Miguel wraps his arms around you, desperate to reassure you.

“Tu eres todo lo que quiero. Nadie se compara contigo. Nadie importa más que tu.” (You are all that I want. No one else compares to you. No one else matters but you.)

Your recent Spanish lessons on an app on your phone hasn’t quite extended to the level in which he speaks. But you can tell his romantic mutterings are heartfelt as he squeezes you and strokes you with his strong, manly hands.

Surrounded by several buildings belonging to the local observatory, standing tall at the crest of a hill on Mount Teide; you and Miguel clamber down from the coach. It’s quite comical seeing a six-foot-nine-inch man with broad shoulders descend the narrow aisle and steps.

The air is already slightly colder than it is closer to the sea. You suck in air through your teeth as a chilly breeze whips around you. The excursion leader hands a blanket to you and Miguel to wrap around you, before passing you a glass of champagne.

The sky is set alight in a blazing orange as the sun nears its time to vanish below the horizon, drawing another day to a close.

Standing atop the hill, Miguel places his arm around you as you cast your gazes to the west. The bright, orange orb burning brightly in the sky, gradually sinking lower, and lower.

Taking out your phone, you decide to capture the stunning moment that follows.

The bubbly liquid brings a warmth to your insides while Miguel remains by you, holding you close.

“I meant what I said earlier, chiquita. No one else matters but you,” Miguel purrs in your ear.

A sweet smile grows across your face.

“So that’s what you said, huh?”

He chuckles at your response as he realises he said it in a language you didn’t understand.

“Sorry, chiquita. I guess I got carried away with the emotion of the conversation,” Miguel replies and whispers to you exactly what he said to you earlier, giving you further reassurance; making your heart flutter like a butterfly in the breeze.

As the golden disc kisses the horizon, Miguel draws you in closer to press his lips against yours. His blanket wraps around you snugly as well as himself while he has you pressed against his large, muscular frame.

You and Miguel had a delicious meal in the restaurant. There was slight hesitation when he discovered that everyone on the excursion were to share tables, but once the ice was broken between your neighbours, the conversation flowed nicely, while Miguel sat and listened. Once again, he returned to his usual straight-faced demeanour however he toned down the intimidating expression so as to not weird out your fellow excursion companions…

Now, you both are the last to get off the coach as it’s parked up next to a vast plane of an old lava flow from the volcano.

Stars twinkle and planets gleam against the black canvas that is the sky. You don’t think you have ever seen so many stars. Your current location has much less light pollution than you do at home.

The atmosphere and scenery is enchanting. Feeling on top of the world with nothing but dazzling lights blinking millions of lightyears away. The landscape before you makes you feel you could be on a totally different planet.

The tour guide begins his talk about the twinkling display above you. You learn about the differences between planets and stars. How the orbiting worlds in space shine constantly while the incomprehensibly large burning balls of gas sparkle in the night sky.

“There are eighty-eight constellations that can be seen all over the world, but only thirty-six can be seen in the northern hemisphere…” the tour guide starts to explain.

A sharp shiver shoots down your spine as the much cooler air chills you to the bone. You came prepared, but the cold still manages to seep through your multiple layers. In the dark, you hear a zip before feeling a large jacket wrapping around your shoulders.

The tall, dark figure beside you pulls you close, keeping you warm in his embrace as you both listen to the tour guide as he points out the Orion constellation.

Despite being surrounded by a handful of people, looking up into the black, glittering sky, you feel like the only two existing in that moment. You’re transfixed - hypnotised even, as you learn about things far bigger than you, or Miguel. Things even bigger than your planet and it boggles your mind finding out just how small you are in comparison, but that’s not a bad thing. It fascinates you and humbles you.

As the talk continues, you feel gentle kisses against your head and hair. Miguel gives the impression that he’s not exactly listening and is more interested in the attention he’s giving you. Maybe he already knows this stuff? You don’t put it past him.

Back in the coach for the final time as it snakes its way back down Mount Teide, the passengers are quietly conversing with one another.

Looking out of the window, it is almost nothing but the purest of black, apart from the twinkling of golden lights in Playa de las Americas.

The fresh air and the large meal has made you sleepy and your eyelids feel heavier by the minute. That is until something suddenly catches your attention, making you startle and grab Miguel’s hand while your eyes remain fixed on the stunning object that comes into view.

A large entity burning in the earth’s atmosphere, rips across the dark sky. A flaming, orange tail streaks behind it as the front burns a brilliant, electric blue.

“What the hell?” you gasp in pure surprise, turning to face Miguel.

The thing in question disappears as quickly as it came, fizzling out into nothingness over what you assume is the Atlantic Ocean.

“That, (Y/N), was a meteorite.” (Yes this really did happen to me IRL)

Your jaw drops as you look back out of the window, picturing the spectacle in your mind's eye. What a beautiful sight, and simply the perfect ending to an amazing day. You try not to let what Miguel told you earlier affect you. The romantic day you have shared with him has certainly outshone the unpleasant discussion of Xina. And that meteorite will last in your memory until the end of your days.

The last two weeks have flown by and you return home to your apartment. You’re exhausted, but you have a dreamy smile plastered on your face. Your holiday in Tenerife has been an unforgettable experience.

You both did some amazing things, creating many memories that you’ll cherish for the rest of your life. Dolphin spotting as the pair of you sat on a catamaran will be forever one of your favourites; watching the joyful creatures rushing alongside the boat, leaping out of the water as the warm sunlight glistens along their backs.

Another memory you’re fond of is when Miguel took you to Siam Park; the biggest water park in Tenerife. Your favourite moment is when the two of you canoodled in the deepest part of the wave pool that released a powerful wall of water every five minutes. The rise and fall of the water almost got the two of you carried away. The temptation to let him slip your bikini bottoms to the side and enter you was overwhelming at one point.

As you enter your home, you’re greeted by Ashley, fretting over a letter that she’s reading in the open plan kitchen. Her fingers run through her hair as her mind races.

Closing the door behind you after dragging the suitcase in, you look concerned at your friend as she reads a letter again.

“What’s up?” you ask as you approach your roommate, trying to peer at what she’s reading.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Ashley’s voice cracks as he shakes her head, the paper in her hands shakes as her hands tremble.

“Ashley, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

Eventually, her gaze rises up to meet yours, tears threaten to well up in her eyes.

“The landlord is pushing our rent up - we can only just afford it as it is (Y/N), I don’t know how we’re going to manage this…”

All of a sudden, the beautiful holiday is sucked out of your mind, lost in the dark vacuum of space as it’s replaced with thoughts about what’s going to happen about your little home that you’ve built with your best friend…

I hope you enjoyed Part 12.

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Botany…Of Course, Pt 2

Summary: Peyton is the new botany teacher at Nevermore. They are a telepath. They find themselves on a trip with Principal Weems. They discover what happened the year before they came to Nevermore, amongst other things. Tw: alcohol consumption, description of Larissa's poisoning?

Note: I'm so glad you all liked the first part of this fic! I can start a tag list if anyone wishes to be on it :) @alder-saan ~3700 words

Link to Pt 1

Friday

You were in your hotel room getting ready to explore the scene. Last night when you arrived Larissa went to bed and you stayed up and watched a movie. Larissa was at her conference bright and early this morning, and she would be finished around 5pm. You put on your maxi skirt and crop top. It was warm but not too hot, you loved the weather here. You took your notebook and set out to the conservatory. The whole hotel was nothing but botanical gardens and restaurants. There were beautiful waterfalls, huge rocks, ponds with fish and lily pads, and an abundance of different trees and plants. It was gorgeous and calming. Although it felt like you were outside, everything was covered by a skylight. It smelled so good, fresh almost. You got to the coffee shop and ordered an iced chai tea latte and a soft pretzel. You walked around until you settled by a waterfall underneath a large rock. It was a bit hidden, like a cave, which you loved. As you ate, you wondered how the conference was going. You wanted to surprise Larissa with something, or plan something fun to do. You knew this was a work trip, but that didn't mean she couldn't also have fun. She deserved it. Walking around the conservatory, you figured you would go through one garden a day and scope out some interesting plants that might be good additions to Nevermore. You loved the palm trees and banana trees, some were 60 feet tall, reaching to the second level. Unfortunately, those would never fit in the conservatory at Nevermore. There were rare international blooms and southern species, many that you hadn't heard of before. You sketched a banana tree from Madagascar, a huge Bird of Paradise from South Africa, some succulents, and Physostigma venenosum from tropical Africa. For a good part of the day you sketched plants and researched them, taking notes in your book. At 2pm, you figured you would go for a walk outside. It was a beautiful day, you wished Larissa could walk with you. You found some thrift shops and headed into one. They had antique houseware, clothing, jewellery, everything you could think of. You ended up buying a ring and pants for yourself, and a vintage scarf from the 60s for Larissa. There were so many things you thought she would love, but you couldn't choose what she would like most. You set out again and ended up in a liquor store. You bought some red wine, you knew Larissa's favorite, and some rum then headed back to the hotel.

You had a few drinks and walked around the conservatory again, admiring the fountains and the lights that covered the ceiling and trees. The rooms all had balcony's overlooking the conservatories, it reminded you of a painting. You settled down at a table under a pavilion next to a large fountain. You got out your notebook and started sketching the scene in front of you. A beautiful building to your left, a pond and fountain to the right, pretty sky lights and a pathway littered with plants on both sides. Walking down the pathway was Larissa. She was adorning her matching cream colored outfit with her lip brooch and kitten heels, admiring the plants as you were admiring her. She wasn't really there of course, you were imagining her, drawing her. You looked to the time, she would be done in 30 minutes. You ran back to the room, cleaning yourself up and cracking open some wine. You had in mind some fun things you and her could do around the hotel if she was up for it, you hoped she was. You were flipping through your notebook and you felt giddy about her return. You liked being alone most of the time, but you really liked being in her presence.

She returned to the room after what felt like forever, looking pretty tired. "Long day?" you said trying not to be too obvious that you were happy to see her. She put her things down then turned to you and smiled, she looked adorable. "Yes, it was very eventful, but it was a lot" she let out a huff and plopped down on her bed across from you. You sat on the edge of your bed and looked at her. She was wearing the cream coloured outfit you had thought of earlier. You took a minute to admire her as you knew her eyes were closed. You started smiling big, ear to ear. You couldn't help yourself, you were a bit drunk. She heard you giggle and opened her eyes, catching you staring at her. She sat up and kicked at your foot with hers, "What are you giggling at?" she laughed, knowing you were admiring her. You pretended you weren't just looking at her, you turned your head and quicky said "nothing" in a joking manner. Larissa looked to her feet and huffed and you realized she wanted to rid her heels. You knelt to the floor and took them off of her feet, placing them away. This surprised and flustered Larissa, like you knew what she was thinking. She was taken back by you doing this, nobody cared for her in such small but meaningful ways before. You knelt back down by her feet, you knew this could look weird, like you were worshiping her. You didn't want her to think that's what you were trying to do, although in reality you would. You took a chance, "Do you want a foot rub? Not in a weird way" you laughed. She blushed and looked down at you, "Well, if you're offering" she said shyly. You did so, coming to learn that her toe nails were the same color as her fingernails. You got up and poured her a glass of wine, "Wine for you my dear" you said while handing it to her. She looked up at you, eyebrows raising questioningly. "Yes, I bought your favorite wine, and yes, I may have had a few drinks while you were gone" you laughed, grabbing your wine and sitting on the bed next to her. You opened your notebook "But, I also did some work. I sketched some plants, I think a couple of these would be good additions back home." She viewed all of your sketches and notes from the day as you explained what you had learned. "These are amazing Peyton, I wish I could have come with you." You looked up at her, eyes lit up. "Well, we can walk around tonight, it will probably be even more beautiful." She smiled and placed her hand on your back, it felt nice. You quickly got up, remembering the scarf that you got her. It was a cream color with some neutral brown tones and small blue flowers. You held it out to her grinning, proud of yourself for finding something you thought she would like. "I went to an antique shop across the street, they have so much stuff that I think you would love. We should go if you have time." She took it from you and admired it, "Is this for me?" "Of course, the blue matches your eyes perfectly." You were shy now, nervous that she would think that you thought of her too much, or that you were being too interested in her. "I mean, I think your eyes are blue, right?" you said while tucking your hair behind your ear in an obviously sarcastic manner. Larissa let out a loud laugh, and your heart filled with joy. "Thank you so much darling, I love it." Larissa would never let on, but her eyes were watering at the thought of you buying this for her. She didn’t get gifts often, and she cherished that you thought of her when she wasn't with you. You saw her eyes glisten, but you didn't say anything. You were happy that she appreciated it. Sitting back on your own bed, you fell down onto your back and stared at the ceiling. Larissa watched you, she knew you had something on your mind. "What are you thinking about love?" You absolutely loved when she called you cute names, you blushed and rolled away from her so she couldn't see your face. "Are you hungry? Maybe we can get dinner and go for a walk?" you said as you sat up to face her again. "Sounds like a plan."

You went to a restaurant in the middle of the hotel. It was surrounded by a pond with fish, lily pads and a waterfall, and trees of course. It did look more beautiful in the night, it was all lit up and you could see the stars through the skylight. Larissa started, wanting to get to know you better. You seemed to know a few things about her, but she felt like she didn't know you. "So Peyton, I saw you with a handsome man the other day at the Weathervane. Boyfriend perhaps?" You looked at Larissa, mouth full of pasta, and almost started laughing. Keep it together Peyton, don't spit your food out. The only man you could remember being with was…OH Cal, your cousin. For some reason you decided to mess with her, "Oh Cal? Yea me and him were together, but he cheated on me with a man, so we broke up." Larissa's eyes went wide, her hand covering her mouth in total shock. Her expression made you laugh, you could only be serious for so long. "LARISSA I'm joking! He's my cousin, he's having trouble with his boyfriend, we were just talking." She let out a breath you saw her holding in, and hung her head in relief. "Oh my god, you had me for a minute there." You both laughed, you were so geeky sometimes. "Yea, I don't have a boyfriend. I like-" you stopped yourself, you didn't really know if you wanted to tell her that you liked women. "You like what?" "Nothing, um, so do you have a boyfriend?" you said looking down and picking at your pasta. She looked down at her food as well, "No, I'm not really interested in that sort of thing." That sort of thing? Like a relationship? "I get it, relationships can be hard, and tiring" you tried to be reassuring. "Very true, the most serious I've gotten was with this girl once, but that was so long ago." Sorry, did she just say girl? Larissa Weems, the Larissa Weems likes girls? A huge smile crept on to your face, and you looked up at her, she was still looking at her food, thank god. "Did you say a girl?" you stuttered by accident, voice low and raspy. She looked to you, worry now written on her face. "Yes, I- I did" she said in an unsure tone. You didn't mean to sound like that was a bad thing, you were just really surprised. Maybe that joke about Cal wasn't the best idea, you weren't trying to make fun. "Well Larissa, maybe we should find a new girl for you" you said with a smile looking at her pretty face. She smiled back, and nodded slightly. You wanted to scream, you weren't the only one at Nevermore who liked girls! You still didn't want to tell her though, not right now. Changing the subject, she started, "What do you like to do for fun?" "Well, lately I like to mess with my powers honestly. I keep finding out I can do things that I didn't know about." Larissa was intrigued, but you didn't know why you told her this. You had hobbies and liked to do things, but you found them rather embarrassing. "Oh, like what?" she prodded. You knew she wouldn't let this go now, so you told her. "Um, well I can give someone a piece of knowledge, or I can erase knowledge or a memory from someone's brain. I can see other peoples memories if they have strong emotion, but only if they allow me to. I also recently obtained the ability to know if someone is lying, but it just comes on at random." She was in awe of your abilities, these things could be a lot of responsibility. "So, if I allow you, you can see my memories?" "Yep, if it's very joyous, traumatizing, or emotionally strong enough." She thought for a second, "Can I see it too? When you look at it?" This was the upside, you thought, to seeing peoples memories. They didn't know what you were seeing, just that they allowed you to see it. "No, you can't see it in time that I do. I don’t do it a lot though, there's no point." She looked like she wanted to say something, had something on her mind. There was silence for a minute, then she just looked away. "Do you want to show me the plants now?" she said excitedly.

As you walked around the conservatory, you showed her every plant that you knew something about, and jokingly told her that she was as tall as one of the trees. Larissa smiled at how cute you were when so caught up in something you loved. She used to love hearing Marilyn talk about the conservatory plants, but unfortunately, who she thought was a real friend turned out to be an enemy. She didn't know if she would ever get over that. "This one is Alsophila latebrosa from Singapore, and this one is Physostigma venenosum from tropical Africa. It has Physostigmine, which is a highly toxic parasympathomimetic alkaloid, it can cure deadly nightshade if taken in the correct dose. I thought that might be good to have in the conservatory.." you cut yourself off as you looked up at Larissa. She was staring into space, not listening to you anymore. "Larissa, are you okay?" you said, really worried about her blank expression and even more pale than usual skin. A minute later she snapped out of it, looking down at you, who was holding her hand staring up at her. "Oh, sorry love. What were you saying?" You were confused, but you continued. "I was saying that I think we should have this in the conservatory at school. It’s the antidote to deadly nightshade." "We don't need it, we don't have Atropa belladonna anymore" she quipped quickly and seriously. This made you more confused, "Yes we do, it's just a small plant. I found it in a locked cabinet behind the desk." Larissa's mouth dropped open, they must have missed it when they searched through the conservatory last year. "Oh, um, Peyton, can you do me a favour?" "Sure Larissa" you were worried about what the favour was going to be. "When we get back to Nevermore, can you bring that plant to me, and if you ever find more in the conservatory, get rid of it immediately." Her tone was strict and demanding, you felt like a student who did something wrong. "Oh, sure Larissa, I can do that" you said quietly but sure. She then realized that you were new to the school and had no clue what this was about, or why you couldn't have this plant. She drug you back to your room, not saying a word.

You were sitting on your bed. Larissa had instructed you to sit and stay as she went to the bathroom. You were wondering if she was mad at you, or if you did something wrong. Searching in your notebook for Physostigma venenosum, you thought of something. She said to get rid of the deadly nightshade, like we weren’t allowed to have it anymore. Something must have happened when Marilyn, or Laurel, went crazy. Why would it be locked up otherwise? Larissa came out of the bathroom in her satin pajamas and sat on her bed. She just sat there, looking down at her lap. When you noticed her staring at nothing again, you sat up to face her. "Peyton, I want you to consider doing me a favour." "Sure Larissa, I'll do you a favour" you said with a hopeful smile. She looked at you, sadness written on her face. "Will you consider erasing a memory for me?" You went wide eyed, you had only done that once before. "I, um, I've only done it once before Larissa, I don't know if it's a good idea" you said in a nervous and sad tone, you felt sorry for her. If she wanted you to erase a memory, it must have been a bad one. "If you consider erasing it, I'll show it to you first, if you want." You pondered for a minute, was it the memory you think it was? "Larissa, is the memory from last year? You know, Marilyn?" Her eyes met yours and she nodded her head. You got up and sat beside her, taking her hands in yours. "I'll see it if you want me to Larissa, but maybe it's better that we don't dig it out any further." In reality she wanted you to see it, she wanted someone else to see it, to feel it. She wanted Marilyn to feel what it was like. She wanted someone, you, to tell her she wasn't crazy for being scared. "I want you to see it" she said in the lowest whisper you had ever heard. You moved closer to her and with an "Okay," you were in her mind. This was the only memory available for you to see, she really did want you to see it.

*The Nevermore Conservatory, last year*

You were in the conservatory, a red head a couple feet in front of you and Wednesday by the desk. You looked down at yourself, you weren't Larissa. You looked like a, boy? "I never made it to the station, heard enough?" Wednesday said, eyes switching from the read head to you. The read head, who you suspected to be Marilyn, turned around to look at you as well. Her face dropped as you felt yourself getting taller. You looked down at your body, jacket and jeans turning to a matching dress and coat set. You were, shifting? You weren't a boy anymore, now you were sure you were Larissa. "Your slave is probably still at the station" Wednesday chirped. "Please don't make this more difficult than it already is, Marilyn" your voice, well Larissa's, sounded with regret. You felt sad, betrayed, like you just lost a friend. Like you failed at bringing the outcasts and normies together, you were stupid for letting a normie in the school, an idiot for not seeing the danger. "My name is LAUREL" the red head belted before bringing a needle to your neck. You had no time to run, you felt a sting, and then you couldn't move. You fell to the floor, you couldn't breathe very good all of the sudden. You could feel your heart beat fast, vision going blurry, and you were gasping for air. Your mouth started foaming, and the last thing you saw was Wednesday over you, calling your name. When you looked up at Wednesday, all you could think about was her mother. How you two had drifted apart, how you two fought, how you loved. You spent most of your life with no partner, no friends, just taking care of the school, and recently taking care of Wednesday. You didn’t regret it, of course, but you still had so much more to do. You were scared, then everything went black.

You opened your eyes gasping for air, heart pounding. You realized you were in your hotel room, Larissa was beside you holding your shoulders steady, staring at you in concern. She didn't want you to be burdened by her memory, she just wanted to get rid of it. The thing about taking memories or knowledge from a person is that by taking it from them, you got it. The memory  had to go somewhere, right? Of course, they aren't your memories, so it wasn't as traumatizing for you to see them. You looked at her, your eyes watering, you tried to blink the tears away. You didn’t believe she lived through that. Marilyn had stabbed her in the neck with nightshade?! What the hell! You were glad she was dead, you would've killed her yourself. Larissa noticed you were crying and pulled you into her arms. You cried into her shoulder for a minute, then took her face in your hands when you cooled off. You were so shaken that you spoke unevenly, you couldn't even talk loud. "I'm so sorry Larissa, I didn't know. I'll consider erasing it for you." She pulled you against her again as a tear fell down her face. "I'm sorry too little one, I didn't know how much that would hurt you." In truth, it hurt you so much because you cared about Larissa. Some peoples memories weren't that bad because you knew they weren't yours, but hers, hers felt real. You connected with her so easily, and you wanted to help her. You pulled away, "Wait, you're a shapeshifter?" She let out a quiet breathy laugh. "Yes, I suppose you learned two things about me tonight, please don't say anything though, not many people know." You nodded, you wouldn't tell her secret. "Can we lay together?" you muttered, praying that she would say yes. "Of course love." You both laid in her bed, you felt way better being in her arms. You were so glad that she didn't die, but how did she survive? You wanted to ask her more questions and say that you were glad she was alive, but you didn't. "That's so cool" you mumbled, turning to face her. "What is?" she questioned, eyes meeting yours. "Being a shapeshifter. What can you shift into? People? Animals? Does it feel like anything when you really do it?" She smiled, stroking your hair, "I can shift into people. And no, it doesn't feel like much." You looked in her eyes, she was still adorning her makeup, and her lips were still painted red. Her eyes were so bright and daunting, her lips looked so soft, her skin so smooth, the little creases in her mouth and eyebrows were so cute. Uh oh, you thought. Turning back over, you took her hand and put it to your chest, then you closed your eyes. You felt her pull you closer, a soft "Goodnight Peyton" was the last thing you heard.

Link to Pt 3

[thevoidstaredback]

January 2025 Songs

Bummerland by AJR

So This Is Love by Ilene Woods and Mike Douglas

God Is Really Real by AJR

That's How You Know from Enchanted

Can't be Erased by JT Music

OK Overture by AJR

I Wanna Be Famous from Total Drama

The Flying Dutchman by The Jolly Rogers

Castle of Glass by Linkin Park

Into The Unknown from Frozen 2

Piano Man by Billy Joel

Don't Cry For Me Argentina from Evita

Son of Man from Tarzan

Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie

Mama I'm A Big Girl Now from Hairspray

You Didn't Know from Hazbin Hotel

If I Didn't Have You from Quest For Camelot

Real Man by Tomska

Luck Be A Lady from Guys and Dolls

It's Raining Somewhere Else by Toby Fox

Smile Like You Mean It by ParanoidDJ

Stuff Is Way by They Might Be Giants

A Gay Disney Prince by Thomas Sanders

Drama Club by Melanie Martinez

Bikini Bottom Day from Spongebob the Musical

Shine A Light (Reprise) from Heathers

I Wanna Waa by CG5

Hips Don't Lie by Shakira

Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

Cell Block Tango from Chicago

Rain Is A Good Thing by Luke Bryan

Swim by Alec Benjamin

Space Age Bachelor Man from Ride The Cyclone

Sugar Cloud from Ride The Cyclone

One Short Day from Wicked

Reflection from Mulan

listen before i go by Billie Eilish

I Wanna Be Your Slave by Måneskin

Stronger from Finding Neverland

I'm Ready by AJR

My Blanket And Me from You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown

We Own The Night from Finding Neverland

Play (acoustic) from Finding Neverland

Not Getting Married Today from Company

Son of Poseidon from The Lightning Thief: The Musical

Birthday Party by AJR

One Day More from Les Miserables

The Pirates Of Kensington from Finding Neverland

Sweet Child 'o Mine by Guns and Roses

Sexy Drug by Falling In Reverse

To Be A Princess from Barbie: Princess and the Pauper

I Can't Fix You by The Living Tombstone

Put On Your Sunday Clothes from Hello, Dolly

Main Character, Will Wood

Sarcasm by Get Scared

Troublemaker by Olly Murs

Fairytale by Alexander Rybak

7 Years by Lukas Graham

I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry

La Seine by Matthieu Chedid and Vanessa Paradis

Revenge by XXXTENTACION

Africa by Toto

Get Along by Megumi Hayashibara

Tell Your Story by Derivakat

I See A Dreamer by CG5

It Took Me By Surprise by Maria Mena

Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood

Plastic Promises by Set It Off

Tír Na Nóg by Celtic Woman

I See Fire by Ed Sheeran

Cooking By the Book (A Lil’ Bigger Mix) by Mastgrr

Skid Row from Little Shop of Horrors

Until I End Up Dead by Dream

Thneedvile from The Lorax

You And I And George by Rowlf the Dog

Lord of the Rings in 99 Seconds by John Cozart

Stick it to the Man from School of Rock

Hymn For The Weekend by Coldplay

All That Jazz from Chicago

Still Alive by Jonathan Coulton

Want You Gone by Jonathan Coulton

My First Kiss by 3OH!3

Rewritten in Stone by Amanda Fagan

Fancy Dress from The Drowsy Chaperone

My Time by Bo En

Middle Finger by Bohones

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

I Will Wait by Mumford and Sons

Stay, I Pray You from Anastasia

Beggin’ by Måneskin

Could Have Been Me by The Struts

Daughters of Triton from The Little Mermaid

The Entertainer by Scott Joplin

Slumber Party by Ashnikko

Revolting Children from Matilda the Musical

What The Heck I Gotta Do from 21 Chump Street

MUFFIN by BadBoyHalo, CG5, and Hyper Potions

Hello from Book of Mormon the Musical

eBay by Weird Al

Fat by Weird Al

Bad by Michael Jackson

I Know It's Today from Shrek the Musical

Don't Let Me Go from Shrek the Musical

Battle Scars by Paradise Fears

Sober Up by AJR

Don't Say Goodnight by Hot Chelle Rae

Roadtrip by Dream

Let Me Be Your Wings from Thumbelina

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John

Just The Girl by The Click

Perform This Way by Weird Al

Song of the South by Alabama

Little Wolf from Epic: The Musical

Pocket Full of Gold by American Authors

Beautiful from Heathers

Other Friends by Caleb Hyles

Go Big or Go Home by American Authors

Treehouse by Alex G and Emily Yacina

Im Too Sexy for My Shirt by Right Said Fred

City of the Dead by Eurielle

Shout by Tears for Fears

Opening Up from Waitress

Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen

Paranoia by Neoni

Art Is Dead by Bo Burnham

Another Irish Drinking Song by DaVinci's Notebook

Colonel Hathi's March from The Jungle Book

For The First Time In Forever from Frozen

Killer Queen by Queen

Rhapsody of Youth by Seishun Kyousoukyoku

What's Up, Duloc from Shrek the Musical

[kruemel8]

For the Australia thing, I have a speculation and it’s a big one. So during the press tour for season 2 of white lotus, creator mike white mentioned that he would like to shoot a season in Australia. Also there were rumours from employees working in four seasons Australia saying that the hotel has been booked for the filming of season 4. We know that hbo has green lit season 4 and casting has began. So maybe Omar is auditioning in Australia for a role? This is a super big speculation and may not be true though, as there’s also conflicting rumours that filming will start in South Africa soon with Paul mescal playing the token gay character

👀👀 I know nothing about White Lotus but there is a Four Seasons in Sydney.

[kisavatore]

My 2025 Sims 4 Wishlist* for base game updates and packs

*I don't expect to see all this next year obv and I want bug fixes like everyone eles,I'm doing this list purely for fun! (I may add more later)

Fairies

Hotels

Being able to completely customize the apartments and hallways in san myshuno-changing the front door,moving/deleting the rat hole,moving/deleting the pipes and electrical box,and getting ride off lot challenges if we want to (I'm glad we can delete/move windows but I hope for a little bit more customization in the future)

Spiral stairs (base game)

Eye color & hair color slider (the same as the make-up one,base game)

New hair in pastel colors (base game)

Pastel color eyes (base game)

Pastel skin colors

More Black hairstyles (base game)

Gamer/geek decor (more headphones,controller,figurines,plushies,art prints,pillows,pen holders etc.)

Decor and functional manga & comic books

New consoles

Anime inspired (or colab) cas or/and b&b kit or stuff pack

Ado song/s added to s-pop station (base game)

Aimer song/s added to s-pop station (base game)

Graves for chickens,cows and llamas from cottage living EP

Bassinet for mermaids

Reptile Pets

Baird Pets

Disability aids (base game)

More/New Clutter-slippers,robes,small candles,cutting boards,mugs,small standing picture frames,make-up,cereal box,makeup,ingredients-flour bag,sugar pack,egg packaging,milk carton etc.,tray (empty with slots),tray with different types of decor e.g.w/ candle,books & mug,laptop & mug,breakfast etc.

Tattoo artist career

Ballet Career

New instruments-drums,accordion,flute,harmonica,cello,harp,trumpet (base game)

Pool table

New playground equipment-slides,carousel,rocking horse (base game)

Burglars (base game)

Separate bank accounts for sims,saving account (base game,I would personally like a bank system similar to SNB mod)

New hobbies-skateboarding,glassblowing,pottery,scrapbooking,soap making,golfing,sewing clothes,ballet

Making a bed like in the sims 3 (base game)

Carnival Pack

New toys for kids (toy kitchen,toy laundry set,cashier toy set,band toy set,tea set,small plushies)

New toys for toddlers (toy kitchen,toy telephone,basketball hoop,Rock-a-Stack,Xylophone)

Public Swimming Pool Decor

Arcade machines

New make-up (cas,base game)

New piercing

Pillowfort for kids

Princess themed furniture/bedroom

Safari themed bedroom

Boho b&b kit

Visual kei CAS Kit

Cyber Goth CAS Kit

Active elementary school

New beds for cats/dogs

Updated textures for older base game hair

Screenshots we are taking appearing in our sims inventory as photos (so we could frame them)

Firefighter Career

Daycare Career

Police Career

Mangaka Career

Police in the game (so our teens can be pick up by them,if they are out late at night and also if we get burglars)

South Korea inspired world

Africa Inspired world

Poland Inspired world

Another Japan Inspired world (I was thinking Tokyo Inspired City)

Traditional Slavic Clothes (base game or/and kit)

Slavic Home Decor (base game or/and kit)

Traditional Polish Food (base game)

Garage Cutler Kit

Tennis Court

60s/70s fashion kit

80s/90s fashion kit

60s/70s build kit

80s/90s build kit

Glassblowing

Pottery

Infant Stuff Pack

Multi-purpose lot

Tosters

Smoothie/Shake Blender

Air Fryer

Fryer

Built in oven

Built in microwave

Burn Scars (base game)

[rhetoricandlogic]

My Review of “Firewalkers” by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Posted on March 15, 2020

My Take On Firewalkers

When you’re offered double-double danger pay to do a job with no other information, you know it’s not something you particularly want to do. But when you pause to consider this fact and the boss instantly ups the offer to double-triple … well. That’s a lot of money — and a whole lot of something to avoid — but if you live in a scorching, apocalyptic hellscape and your family depends on you for survival, literally, need trumps want. Every time.

Such is the thinking of Mao, one of the main characters in Firewalkers, an outstanding dystopian sci-fi thriller by Adrian Tchaikovsky. I was hooked from the very first page and tore through the book, reading in every spare moment and late into the night. This review is based on an advance copy provided by the publisher through NetGalley for that purpose. The book will be available on May 12, 2020.

Firewalkers is set in a climate-change devastated future, in a part of equatorial Africa where human survival relies on avoiding the daytime heat and sun. Mao and his friends Lupe and Hotep are Firewalkers, part of a select group of young men and women (Firewalkers don’t survive long enough to get old) who journey out into blasted wastes to repair the infrastructure keeping their boomtown settlement of Achouka scratching along.

Achouka exists in a land otherwise devoid of life because it is an anchor point, the terrestrial landing point for a cable to space. At the other end of that cable, a long elevator ride away, is a space ship where some of the planet’s most wealthy and powerful continue to live lives of comfort. Alongside the anchor point is a hotel where those lucky enough wait for their turn to ride the elevator to salvation. The great demand for power to keep these fortunate guests comfortably air conditioned is supplied by automated fields of solar panels connected to Achouka. When the power supply is disrupted just before a large group of guests is scheduled to arrive, Mao and his crew are sent Far South to locate and fix the problem.

Far South, where mysterious things are said to exist, and double-triple danger pay may not be enough.

I can’t say more without spoiling the fun for future readers. The pace is quick but not rushed, and the author does a great job of setting the scene without excess words. Mao and the other characters are well developed and interesting. There are some twists that took me by surprise, and some very thought-provoking ideas about inequality, the environment and family. While this doesn’t appear to be the opener of a series (and I’m not advocating for it to be), the ending is somewhat open-ended and I spent some time wondering what would happen next. There is a realistic uncertainty at the end of Firewalkers, and that made me enjoy it all the more.

[rainbowreactt]

Ride the Wave: A Global Guide to Surfing Paradises

Whether you're a seasoned pro or a curious beginner, the allure of riding the ocean's waves is undeniable. From towering barrels to gentle rollers, there's a perfect wave out there waiting for everyone. To help you plan your next surf adventure, we've compiled a list of some of the world's most iconic and lesser-known surfing destinations.

North America

Hawaii: As the birthplace of modern surfing, Hawaii offers a diverse range of surf spots for all skill levels. From the legendary waves of Oahu to the pristine beaches of Maui, Hawaii is a surfer's paradise.

California: With its iconic surf culture, California boasts numerous world-class surf spots. From the classic waves of Huntington Beach to the rugged coastline of Big Sur, there's something for everyone.

Costa Rica: This Central American gem offers a mix of tropical rainforests, volcanic landscapes, and stunning beaches. Costa Rica is home to several surf breaks, including Playa Tamarindo and Playa Nosara.

Mexico: With its long coastline and diverse surf conditions, Mexico is a popular destination for surfers. Puerto Escondido, Sayulita, and Tulum are just a few of the many surf spots to explore.

South America

Peru: Peru's Pacific coast offers a variety of surf breaks, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Popular surf spots include Mancora, Chicama, and Punta Rocas.

Brazil: Brazil is known for its beautiful beaches and vibrant surf culture. Rio de Janeiro, Florianópolis, and Jericoacoara are all popular surfing destinations.

Ecuador: Ecuador's coastline offers a mix of tropical rainforests, volcanic landscapes, and stunning beaches. Popular surf spots include Montañita, San Clemente, and Canoa.

Europe

Portugal: Portugal has emerged as a popular surfing destination in recent years. Ericeira, Peniche, and Nazaré are all known for their world-class waves.

France: France's Atlantic coast offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Hossegor, Biarritz, and Anglet are popular surfing destinations.

Spain: Spain's coastline offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Cantabria, Asturias, and Galicia are popular surfing regions.

Africa

South Africa: South Africa's coastline offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Jeffrey's Bay, Cape Town, and Durban are popular surfing destinations.

Morocco: Morocco's Atlantic coast offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Taghazout, Essaouira, and Imouzzer des Idaougan are popular surfing destinations.

Asia

Indonesia: Indonesia is a surfer's paradise with countless islands and surf breaks. Bali, Lombok, and Sumatra are all popular surfing destinations.

Philippines: The Philippines offer a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Siargao, San Juan, and Baler are popular surfing destinations.

Sri Lanka: Sri Lanka's southern coast offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Arugam Bay, Mirissa, and Weligama are popular surfing destinations.

Australia

Gold Coast: The Gold Coast is one of Australia's most popular surfing destinations, with numerous world-class breaks. Snapper Rocks, Kirra, and Burleigh Heads are all iconic surf spots.

Western Australia: Western Australia offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Margaret River, Rottnest Island, and Trigg Beach are popular surfing destinations.

Tasmania: Tasmania's rugged coastline offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Hobart, Strahan, and Bicheno are popular surfing destinations.

Oceania

New Zealand: New Zealand's coastline offers a variety of surf spots, from beginner-friendly waves to challenging barrels. Raglan, Piha, and Mount Maunganui are popular surfing destinations.

Fiji: Fiji is known for its crystal-clear waters and world-class surf breaks. Cloudbreak, Teahupoo, and Tavarua are iconic surf spots.

Tips for Your Next Surf Adventure

Research your destination: Learn about the local surf conditions, etiquette, and culture.

Choose the right time to visit: Consider the peak surfing season and weather patterns.

Pack appropriately: Bring your essential surfing gear, including a wetsuit, board, and leash.

Be mindful of the environment: Respect the local marine life and avoid polluting the beaches.

Consider a surf camp: Surf camps offer a great way to learn from experienced surfers and meet other travelers.

Have fun! Surfing is a great way to relax, connect with nature, and challenge yourself.

Remember, the best surfing destination for you will depend on your skill level, preferences, and budget. With so many incredible places to choose from, there's no shortage of opportunities to ride the waves and experience the thrill of surfing.

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 11: Somewhat Normal

“This is us.”

Q gestures to the next door and opens it to let me in. The room is simple, somewhere one might picture a family taking their kids on holiday. 2 beds and a small bathroom. In the back there’s a giant window displaying a gorgeous view of the mountains.

“Nice choice, Q. Your selection in hotel bookings is just as tasteful as your interior design choices.”

“Um, thanks?” Q drops his bag down on one of the beds and sets his laptop up on the desk. “Do you know what this is?” He holds out the ring Bond gave to him and I see a strange symbol on it.

“An ugly octopus?”

He chuckles dryly. “Charming. No, it's a symbol.”

“No doubt for whoever’s behind this mess,” I wonder out loud. “Maybe it’s like the Hydra.”

Q frowns. “How could you connect it to something like that?”

I sit up on the table and cross my legs. “As Einstein said, ‘intuition is nothing but the outcome of earlier intellectual experience.’ The Hydra’s always been a symbol for perseverance, with the whole ‘cut off one head, two more grow back’ meaning. Maybe this octopus is a symbol for different members of this plot?”

I’m cut off when Q points to me with a look of eureka. He clicks another link and another image pops up.

“You’re absolutely right. This is-”

Knock knock.

We both turn towards the door.

“I’ll check it out,” I say softly as I get up. “You grab my grappling equipment and get ready to run. If it’s not Bond, we make a quick exit out the back window.”

I carefully step to the door and pull my pistol out. One, two, three-

“Hello, Levie.”

I roll my eyes at Bond’s laid-back tone, returning my pistol to its holster and walking back to the table. Bond walks in, along with who I think is the Dr. Swann he was talking about earlier. I can already tell she’s Bond’s type. Stubborn, pretty, and full of attitude.

Q goes to close the door and Bond nods in greeting. “Dr. Swann, Q. Q, Dr. Swann.”

Dr. Swann eyes him cautiously. “Hello.”

“Enchanted,” Q returns with the same tone.

“Dr. Swann, meet 0011.”

I hold out a hand for us to shake but she doesn’t budge. “Pleased to meet you. I hope Bond’s been treating you well?” She gives me a look of deep annoyance. “I’ll take that as a temporary no.”

“Bond, we need to talk. Alone.” Q emphasizes

“She knows,” he responds.

“But Bond-”

“She knows,” Bond repeats. “What have you got?” Here it goes.

Q lowers his head. “I owe you an apology, 007. You were right. Oberhauser is still alive, the ring proves it.” He pulls out his laptop and brings up a chart shaped with the same symbol on the ring. “And it seems they were all part of one organization. Silva, Sciarra, White, Patrice, Greene, and Le Chiffre. And do you know who links them all?”

“Him.” Bond points to the screen.

“Exactly.”

“The organization. Do you know what it’s called?”

“SPECTRE,” Dr. Swann says from across the room. “Its name is SPECTRE.”

Q looks between us with confused eyes. “How does she know?”

“Because my father was part of it,” Swann explains.

“Well then you ought to see this.”

Q clicks a TV remote and a news report shows the headline: Cape Town In Chaos. He must have just gotten an alert from M. The story goes on to report a massive terrorist strike in South Africa; something that will no doubt stress for the Nine Eyes program to be pushed through.

“Q, go back to London,” Bond says while still watching the TV. “M’s going to need your help. And keep tracking me.”

Q nods. “I will. And Bond, you have to find L'Américain. He’s our only link to Oberhauser.”

“It’s not a person,” Dr. Swann speaks up. “It’s a place. In Tangier.”

“Then that’s where we need to go next.” Bond heads for the door and checks to see if it’s clear. 

“I can help-” I start to follow.

Bond holds up a hand to stop me. “You go with him, Levie. You’ve already risked your 00 status by being here. You need to go back. I can handle this.”

It’s best not to argue. Bond’s far more experienced and he’s right. M needs anyone he can trust.

“Best of luck, Bond. Don’t hesitate to call.”

We shake hands and Bond escorts Dr. Swann out, leaving me with Q again. He’s still typing away on his laptop so the only helpful thing I can do is continue to survey the outside premises.

“Are you upset?” Q asks from behind.

I shake my head as I stare out the giant window. “Just disappointed that I’m going to be stuck in London again. It doesn’t help that C keeps trying to pry into everything- Wait a minute, why aren’t you packing?”

Instead of gathering his belongings, Q is instead setting out the contents of his travel bag.

“It would be a shame to waste my savings on a room and not use it. Besides, I’m due for a small holiday even if it is one night.”

Did I hear that right?

“Are you, the workaholic Quartermaster, taking a break? Do you feel light-headed?”

“Very funny,” Q replies dryly. “Between C’s interference and the headache Bond’s giving me I want to try and feel like a normal human being.”

I can’t say I blame him. He deserves a break from everyone, including me. It’s too late and too expensive for me to book my own room so I should go report back to M-

“Where are you going?” Q asks as I start to walk towards the door.

I frown. “You’re taking a night off. I thought I’d go back early and not be a bother.”

Q gets a disagreeing look and he gestures to the other bed. “This is why I booked a double-bed, 0011. This room is for you too.”

He’s not joking? How has Q become my new favorite co-worker?

“You’re serious? First you send me on a solo mission, then you build me my own motorcycle. Now this!” I smile and shake my head. “How am I supposed to pay the tab?”

“Nothing to worry about.” Q waves it off. “You’ll probably repay me later by saving me from another assassin.”

“It would be my honor.” I do a dramatic bow. “So what now? What do you do for a holiday? You don’t take me as someone who skis.”

Q laughs nervously and scratches his neck. “No, I’d rather not do that. I’m not so adaptable when it comes to physical activity.”

“Then how do you meet the requirements?”

“By hard perseverance. Meaning I work myself until my body nearly collapses.”

I smirk. “Sounds like me. So if outdoor recreation is not an option…” I walk over to the TV and check the channel guide, coming up empty. “No good channels. And none of us are into drinking so the bar’s out of the question.”

Q picks up a hotel brochure and flips through it. “There’s a whirlpool outside.”

I snort. “You said to pack warm clothes. Swim attire didn’t exactly make it onto my list of warm clothing.”

“Are you wearing proper undergarments?”

This catches me off guard. I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that.

“Obviously,” I scoff.

Q shrugs. “They’re basically the same thing as a bathing costume. If you’re against it then you can rest here.” He stands up and grabs a towel from the bathroom. “You know where to find me.”

I arch a brow. “I’m not hiding in a hotel room. Fine, I’ll go too.”

I triple-check the room to make sure it’s secure. After grabbing my own towel Q opens the door to let me pass and we both head down the dark hallway. By now it’s too late for much activity. No families with screaming kids, no lost elders looking for a map. The second I open the door to the outside deck a stiff breeze slaps me in the face.

“Alright, let’s find this whirlpool before I change my mind and book the next flight to Italy.”

I make a beeline to the tub and strip my boots, jacket, bulletproof vest, knickers, and jumper. All that’s left is my less-than-traditional ladies boxers, sports bra, and the knife holster around my thigh. It does feel strange to be more- revealing during a time like this. Yet this small scenario is nothing compared to all of Bond’s escapades. 

“Why Italy?” Q asks, avoiding looking at me directly.

I hustle over to sink below the soothing water, allowing my stress to melt. “Of all places I’ve been stationed to, I’ve never been sent to Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going. Not for a mission, but as a civilian.” I open my eyes and stare off, remembering my old dream. “Bond says the views there are stunning.”

Q’s been out of my sight for the past minute. When he sits down in the water across from me he reminds me of an icicle. Skinny, white, and shivering. He’s wearing boxers as well. What surprises me most is his physique. Not buff by any means but not a complete broomstick. 

“You look like an athletic sprinter,” I wonder out loud as I unpin my hair.

Q’s eyes seem to be searching for somewhere to focus. “Like I said, I work myself until my body nearly collapses. Um- I think that's the first time I’ve seen you with your hair down.”

I chuckle. “It’s a rare thing, Q. The only times I let it down is when I sleep or I have to do undercover work.” I scrunch my nose. “I’ve always hated having hair in my face.”

“Then why keep it long?”

I think for a minute, twirling a lock on my finger. “You know, I'm not sure. I suppose it’s because it adds to my femininity.” This makes me huff. “Which doesn’t help when my femininity is exploited for lying. Every time I need to show a pretty face I have to lie to somebody.” We sit in silence while the jets lull my thoughts numb. Q was right, this holiday was very well-needed.

“You should be grateful,” Q says after a while. “You are a high-ranking 00 field agent who can use her features to her advantage.”

Is he saying I should-!?

“I’m not just talking about a pretty face,” Q cuts off my thinking. “You’re quite clever and witty, which are some qualities that most everyday pretty faces don’t have.”

My eyes stare into him so hard I feel I’m about to burn a hole in his face. Never before has my Quartermaster said something so… uplifting.

“Did you just compliment me?” I get a cheeky smile.

He rolls his eyes and the moment’s gone. “Don’t get used to it, 0011. I’m only speaking as an impressed co-worker.”

So he did, but just doesn’t want to take credit. I’ll buy that. 

“On a lighter matter, where did you learn how to invent?” I ask. This should be interesting.

The geek’s eyes light up and his tense body language shifts. “I started out at Cambridge University-”

“Jeez Louise!” My jaw drops. 

Q simply holds up a hand. “Please hold all applause for after the lecture. Anyways, after I graduated I wanted to work with electronics. I was supposed to be sent to Scotland to work for a private company, but a few MI6 agents stepped in and offered me twice the salary. Granted I’d never been asked to merge mechanics with my expertise but I was willing to learn.”

This makes sense. Any level-headed chap wouldn’t overlook Q’s genius. It’s no wonder the government wanted him on their payroll.

Now I try a deeper subject. “Do you have family?”

Q nods. “For confidential and safety reasons I’m not allowed to visit them. They still send letters through the mail.”

“Sounds old-fashioned.”

He shrugs. “Sometimes old-fashioned is the most reliable.”

I snicker. “Says the man who said we should trust the future.”

“Haha. Since we’re on the subject of family, do you-?”

Beep! Beep!

The alert jerks my senses awake and my hand flies to my phone tucked under my jumper.

“Hold up. It’s M.” I answer the phone while Q gives me a jittered look. “What’s the news?”

“There’s been an emergency meeting of the security heads of state. The Nine Eyes program has been sanctioned unanimously.” I hear M sigh. “It goes online tomorrow night. He also informed me of you and Bond’s little trip to Austria.”

My eyes narrow. That little rat.

“Sir, Q is taking a small holiday to clear his thoughts,” I speak evenly. “I myself witnessed him having a terrible mental breakdown and chose to escort him to his resort personally. He has been gathering more information regarding a lead from Bond.”

A few seconds go by (while Q gives me a befuddled look) and then M answers:

“Just get back here. I expect you both at noon tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

His tone lightens. “And do tell Q to relax.”

The call ends and I replace the phone underneath my clothes. 

“I wouldn't call my small conflict with Bond a 'mental breakdown.' Let me guess, we’re fired?” Q asks anxiously. “No, wait! Don’t tell me!” He scrunches his eyes closed. 

“Hey, Nervous Nate.” I pat his shoulder. “We are not fired. In fact, M specifically said for you to relax. So relax!”

He slowly opens his eyes and leans back in relief. For a brief moment I swear Q actually becomes a normal person. No talk of missions or gadgets, just 2 chums hanging out. I hope Bond’s keeping his mental health intact too-

“Should we head up?”

Q’s voice stirs me from my thoughts. “Hm? Why’s that?”

“Because my brain feels like it’s melting and you look like you’re about to fall asleep, and I do not feel like dragging your unconscious self up 5 flights of stairs.”

I give an annoyed grunt. “Very well. All pleasure must come to an end anyways.”

The whirlpool did work wonders, both mentally and physically. My whole body feels soft and fatigued, while my mind is steady and relaxed. It all comes to a halt the instant we step out of the water and the freezing air speeds up my heart rate. After scrambling to redress and get back inside, Q and I head to our room.

“You can shower first,” Q offers. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

Once I’ve checked the room to be sure it’s clear I shut all the curtains, then retrieve my bag and enter the bathroom. It’s fairly sized with a decent tub, but I won’t waste any hot water for a bath. Instead I take a quick shower, scrubbing off any dirt that wasn’t washed away by the whirlpool. It must be the hotel that’s making me feel this relaxed; considering I’ve never taken a normal holiday it’s hard to adapt to it. When I finish up I open the door to find Q (no surprise) typing away on his laptop.

“Your turn,” I say. “I’ll check the news for any updates.”

Q seems to have gotten over his awkwardness. His body language makes him appear like we are two old friends rather than distant colleagues. He grabs a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom. I pull out a granola bar, hoping to satisfy my growing hunger, and turn on the TV. All I can put together is that all the news channels keep advertising the Nine Eyes initiative. Swell. C’s corrupted the media to work his will too.

“Alright?” Q asks when he returns.

I’m holding my head in my hands, rubbing my temples in hopes to block out the disturbing reports. 

“You can mute the television, you know.” I hear the TV noise die.

I sigh. “It doesn’t make a difference. No matter how far I bury my head in the sand there will always be bad news. That’s how my job works.” I lift my head and see Q settling down in his bed; wearing the usual sleep shirt and flannel pants with messy wet hair. It’s unclear why but the simple sight makes me smile.

Q catches me looking. “What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Just nonsense. Probably going mad from all this mess.”

He nods respectfully and waits for me to sit down in my own bed before turning off the light. We lay in eerie silence. This is completely different than the noise from home, leaving me to wonder if I’ll be able to sleep.

“Q, do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you hadn’t joined MI6?”

A few seconds go by before he answers. “More often than I’d like to. But most of the time the benefits outweigh the setbacks.”

“Agreed. I love serving my country, and can’t think of anything else that could have outdone this.”

My life was a trainwreck until MI6 gave me something to fight for. After meeting M, Bond, and everyone else, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Do you regret it?” Q asks after a while.

Staring off into the dark I shake my head. “Not a damn thing.”

And that includes working with Q.

[b4n3n4]

Since i still love fish day memories by ryu murakami im copying by hand what is on the book since i cant copy paste, and putting it here! enjoy!!

""Michiko kon's photographs stimulate the memory. Its not that one recalls a specific memory, but rather, her images dredge up the fields of memory. As an image in itself, a photograph should not ordinarily possess the power to conjure other images. But Michiko kon's photographs change substance the moment one looks at them. They become something like the slow- working matter of nerve transmission. And, as concrete images, they unexpectedly assail me as time passes. It's not that i experience them as daydreams, but, like computer software compressing and thawing visual information and the monitors pixels filling with color, Michiko kon's images rise up in the crack between reality and unreality, like what follows:

My palm has been bitten by something - its not clear whether what bit me is an insect or something else. There is a sharp pain, and when i look at my palm something small and black falls like a drop to the ground, and a hole like that made by the stab of a needle opens up at the base of the middle finger of my right hand. The pain remains for a long time, and the area around the hole reddens and swells as time passes. This occurs on the very day i arrived in town, before i even check into my hotel.

The town seems foreign but i have no memory of having gone on a trip. My memory is usually reliable about such things. For example : some days ago, the wife of a friend informed me that my friend had come down with a contagious disease closely resembling Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, and i still clearly remember feeling relieved at the time that I myself was in good health. So my memory functions normally. Until only just a few minutes ago i was in a room of the hotel in Nishi-Shinjuku that i always use for writing ; it was not an hotel in a foreign country. Two minutes before being bitten on the palm, I was in a room of this familiar hotel in my own country. I can clearly recall the name of the hotel but ruminating over its name now won't get me anywhere because, having turned up in a different town, totally out of the blue, i first have to think about where i am and what am i to do here.

The important points are that i was bitten on the palm by an insect, and the unknown town i am in. A sloping road lies ahead of me. The atmosphere is similar to that of southern France, somewhere like Nice or Monaco. However the language and the fashions of the people walking about the streets is not European. Instead, they remind me of the poor resort areas of North Africa, Central and South America, or even Spain that are visited by tour groups from the former communist bloc. And then, As i walk slowly down the sloping street from whose end one can see the sea, I realize for the first time that a woman I know is standing right next to me. I dont know whether she has been there from the start, or she has suddenly appeared like i did. She says something to me like, "I wonder how it is that so many brand-name boutiques can be in such a poor country ?"

Although i hadnt realized it until she mentioned it, the sloping road certainly is lined on both sides with famous boutiques. Cartier, Ferragamo, Chanel, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and other stores continue down the sea at the end of the road. The walls of the buildings are covered with such shop signs. The latest products are displayed in the large show windows, and although all the salespeople are women, every one of them looks like a reptile. I dont know where these people from, but they do look reptilian. Furthermore, a real reptile wearing a salesperson uniform actually works at one store selling bag. I try to look into the stores interior. Since the sunlight is strong, its impossible to see into the store, unless you bring your face up close to the window and cup your eyes with the palms of both hands. A child is feeding the reptile minced meat from a metal bowl.

"why is that child all wrapped up in bandages?" The woman has asked this question. An old man passing by tell us "This kid was bitten by the salesperson who looks like a lizard." The old man is wearing a dark-blue jacket, the kind that sailors often wear, and he is carrying an ivory-handled cane. If you look closely at the ivory you can see its in a shape of a curved penis. The woman finds this amusing.""

Continuing to write tomorrow!

[ahmadsayrafi14]

Cape Towm South Africa A New Year by the Sea

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[archivist-crow]

On this day:

AGATHA’S AMNESIA

On December 3, 1926, Agatha Christie, the famous British mystery writer, dressed in a green knitted skirt, a gray cardigan, and a velour hat, climbed into her much beloved gray, bottle-nosed Morris Cowley and drove off into the night. The next morning the car was found empty at the bottom of a slope, and its front wheels hung over the edge of a 120-foot chalk pit. The brakes were off, the gear lever was in neutral, and the ignition was switched on. Agatha was thirty-four at the time, and her seventh book, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, was on the bestseller list.

Headlines cried out opinions of abduction, murder, publicity stunt, and suicide. Bloodhounds were brought out. The Silent Pool, a natural, spring-fed lake near her abandoned car, was dredged and thousands of people from four countries joined the police as they combed the countryside. Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes, initiated some psychic sleuthing on the case and gave one of Agatha's gloves to a noted psychometrician. Agatha's husband, Colonel Archibald Christie, who was having an affair with another woman, Nancy Neele, was watched by the police.

Meanwhile, at the Hydro Hotel in Yorkshire, a woman registered as Teresa Neele from South Africa was shopping, playing billiards, hiking, and dancing the Charleston in the evenings. Ten days later, the hotel manager, suspecting she was the missing writer, called the police. Colonel Christie arrived at the hotel and identified her. When Agatha saw him approaching her table, she remarked to her companions, "Fancy, my brother has just arrived.”

Amnesia was diagnosed by her doctor, though most people refused to accept that explanation. Agatha never referred to her disappearance and would only grant interviews if it was understood that the incident was off limits.

Text from: Almanac of the Infamous, the Incredible, and the Ignored by Juanita Rose Violins, published by Weiser Books, 2009

[unwelcome-ozian]

Nathaniel 'Nat' Nakasa was also brought to Harvard by Jack Thompson in 1965, on a fellowship funded by the Farfield Foundation.? He had already been funded by Farfield to establish a literary magazine called The Classic, which featured writers such as [Ezekiel] Mphahlele and Can Themba. Soon after his arrival in the US, he became the subject of surveillance by South African intelligence and the FBI. On one of his student assignments, he stayed at the Hotel Theresa in Harlem. When a Harlem shopkeeper showed him a photo of the burned body of a lynching victim surrounded by a crowd of grinning whites he was shocked Thad had never known such personal fear, not even in South Africa, he told The Harvard Crimson.

One night, Jack Thompson invited Nakasa to spend the night at his Central Park West apartment. The next morning, the twenty-eight-year-old writer was found dead on the street, seven stories below Thompson's apartment. The death was reported as a suicide, and it was noted that Nakasa had been depressed at the time. However, many questions have been asked about what happened that night, and members of his family are convinced it was not a suicide.  The fact that he had spent the night in the apartment of a CIA official suggests that any sinister explanation for the death would point to the agency, but it is unclear why the CIA would wish him dead. The apartheid government of South Africa had identified Nakasa as a communist, but this had not prevented Thompson from facilitating his move to the US. One can speculate that Nakasa had discovered the source of his financial support and was planning to expose it.

The nature of Nakasa's death recalls the method of killing advocated in the 1950s CIA manual referred to in Chapter 20 of this book: 'the contrived accident', the most efficient of which was a fall of 75 feet or more onto a hard surface. Elevator shafts, stairwells, unscreened windows, and bridges will serve'. Grabbing the victim by the ankles and 'tipping the subject over the edge' was recommended. Similar questions were asked about the death of Frank Olson, an American scientist working in the CIA's secret biological warfare laboratories at Fort Detrick who fell from the thirteenth floor window of a hotel in New York in 1953. The death was ruled a suicide, and he was labelled as depressed.

Source

[opera-ghosts]

Fanny Moody – The Cornish Nightingale

Dame Fanny Moody (1864-1945) of Redruth was known as ‘The Cornish Nightingale’. Her father could, it was said, play any instrument he had ever seen. Her mother was a pianist, and their large family were exceptionally musical, in particular the daughters Fanny (Francis), Lily (1867-1950), Mabel (1874-1952) and Hilda (1876-1961). Newspaper reports show that all the sisters performed locally as young women. Fanny went on to become one of the great singing stars of her age. Hilda joined the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company in 1896, and later toured with her elder sister’s opera company. Lily, mezzo soprano, sang with J. W. Turner’s English Opera Company (1887-1902).

Fanny, allegedly seen dancing on a shop counter when young, became a pupil of Robert Heath of Redruth. Her first reported performance was in Ponsanooth on 26 March 1879 at the age of 14.  Later that year Fanny’s mother died and her father was left with seven children. Nevertheless, in the winter of 1879/80, Fanny performed over a dozen concerts, mostly in Redruth, but also in Penzance and Falmouth. This intensive pattern was repeated in the next two winters, during which she built a large local following.

Her talent was recognized by Lady Mary Basset of Tehidy, who in late 1881 paid for her to train in London at the Vocal Academy of the renowned Mme. C. H. Sainton-Dolby. Fanny made her London début at the Steinway Hall, Seymour Street in June 1883. In April 1884, with other students, she gave a concert in Newcastle. All was loyally reported in Cornish newspapers.

In Newcastle she was heard by Charles Hallé, who offered her a series of return bookings.  Through these she met Carl Rosa, manager of a prestigious opera company, and when asked by him to sing a ‘top C’ she gave him a ‘top D’. She made her début with the Carl Rosa Company in Liverpool on 15 January 1887, in The Bohemian Girl.  Later that year Fanny’s father James died, but having seen three of his daughters on their way to operatic success.  In 1889 Fanny, her fiancé, the noted bass, Charles Manners, and her sister Lily made a triumphant return to The Druid’s Hall, Redruth.  The packed event was a both a celebration of Fanny’s success and of her Cornish roots.

In 1892 Charles Manners and Fanny were married. Fanny went from success to success as an operatic soprano. In 1892 she and her sister Lily sang in the first English performance of Tchaikovsky’s Yevgeny Onegin. Fanny sang many roles, including Wagner, but she was most suited to those like Cio-Cio-san, the tragic heroine of Puccini’s Madam Butterfly. Later, she and her husband formed the Moody-Manners Opera Company which operated from 1898 to 1916.

Most of Fanny’s performing life was spent touring Britain but she also travelled abroad, notably to North America and South Africa. There in 1897, after a concert, expatriot Cornish admirers followed her back to her hotel. A newspaper reported ‘There was an assemblage of enthusiastic but strangely silent and peaceful Cornishmen; this congregation of robust Romeos waited for their Juliet to appear upon the balcony…To the silent she sang Cornish songs. And as she sang, these big men of Cornwall wept.’ She was presented with a tiara with the Cornish coat of arms picked out in diamonds, which was donated for auction in the Second World War with the proceeds going to the Red Cross.

Although she travelled the world Fanny was still seen as a ‘Cornish maid’ and regularly reported in a positive, almost avuncular way by Cornish papers. Her reputation, repertoire and audience were international, but her identity was Cornish, and her success, and that of  Lily and Hilda, grew from the Cornish musical environment.

Laura Alex Smith published an interview with Fanny Moody in the Cornish Magazine in 1898 which provides an insight into the singer and her world.