#I’m always early cause I live in Australia
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Take Me To Church (Sneak Peek)
For @elucienweekofficial
Day 7: AU
Note: This is a little WIP I've been writing - it's not ready yet, but it's the perfect vibe to end Elucien week and I can't wait to finish it and get it in your hot little hands. But for now - here's a sneak peek!
Elain finally reached the sectioned off hallway that led to the stock room and green room, swiping her pass at the door and kicking it open with her converse.
And stopped dead still.
Holy fuck.
The green room was small, with a few couches and a bar fridge. And in the middle of the room stood the most gorgeous man Elain had ever seen in her 27 years of life.
-
Friday nights were always the craziest.
The people of New York loved letting their hair down after a busy week of fucking up the economy, the crowd at Sidra a mixture of white-collar creeps from Wall Street and plucky young wannabe actors from NYU. Fridays were also the nights Elain always got roped into helping Nesta in the bar, her absolute least favourite part of co-owning this glorious establishment with her sisters. They’d bought the run-down looking brick hole in the wall five years ago with their inheritance after their father had passed, each assuming the roles within the business they were most suited to. Nesta ran the bar, Feyre booked the talent and ran the socials and Elain hid in the office upstairs, managing the finances and all the boring but essential elements of keeping the bar alive. She loved it.
Feyre had landed some up-and-coming rock band tonight and they seemed pretty popular, if the crowd was anything to go by. They didn’t come on til 9 and yet the bar was stacked 50 people deep, the dance floor already packed. They reached capacity an hour ago and Elain hadn’t seen the place this wild, well, ever.
‘Need more Buds!’ Nesta yelled out to Elain from the other end of the bar, expertly knocking the screw tops off two beers in her hands in one go. Elain nodded, running up her last drink before squeezing past Gwyn and Emerie to go out the back and fetch more booze.
The place was electric, a buzz running through the patrons who waited for the band to grace the stage, loud music permeating the air. She weaved her way through the sweaty crowd, her own band t-shirt (Cauldron Sent – her favourite acoustic duo) sticking to the skin of her back. She was grateful she wore denim shorts tonight instead of her usual jeans – it was fucking hot. As she moved, she pulled the elastic band off her wrist and gathered her long golden hair off her neck, loosely tying it into a messy bun at the top. Her fringe was half stuck to her forehead in this heat, but at least her neck was cool.
Elain finally reached the sectioned off hallway that led to the stock room and green room, swiping her pass at the door and kicking it open with her converse.
And stopped dead still.
Holy fuck.
The green room was small, with a few couches and a bar fridge. And in the middle of the room stood the most gorgeous man Elain had ever seen in her 27 years of life.
There were two other people in the room, but Elain couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His muscled back was bare, golden skin glistening in the heat. Long ruby red hair cascaded over his wide shoulders, finishing at his elbows, half tied back and braided in sections. And his arms. Jesus. He flicked some drum sticks between his fingers, the corded muscles of his forearm rippling at the motion. He was wearing black jeans and black sneakers and Elain blinked a few times before she noticed the room had gone silent and the occupants had turned to face her.
She met his eyes and nearly died.
‘Uh – sorry,’ she said quickly, shutting the door behind her and quickly making her way through the room. ‘Need more beer.’
The other red head – the girl – laughed. ‘That’s way more important than what we are doing.’
Elain was already in the stockroom, her cheeks-stained pink from his fucking face. It was like she hadn’t seen a good-looking guy before. But this guy – he was so fucking hot it hurt.
She needed to get laid badly.
#elucienweek2024#elain x lucien#elucien#elucien supremacy#pro elucien#my writing#I’m always early cause I live in Australia#it’s like I’m in the future#day 7: au
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ttwt episode 7
“Last time, on Total Takes World Tour: our thirteen remaining players were let loose in the Dandenong Ranges in southern Australia with no supplies, no maps- nothing but each other! Even though Team Mojo hit a rough patch while Team Yaoi pulled themselves together for Julia’s sake, it was Albert’s environmental expertise that pulled the Mojos to the finish line, and landed Team Yaoi back in economy. Will they continue to stick together to defend their fellow castmates against Patrick? Will Team Mojo ever stop getting lost in every location we drop them in? Find out now, on Total Takes World Tour!”
Early morning light sifts through the open windows of the first class cabin, awakening everyone bright and early. At this altitude, there are no clouds to filter out the sunshine, let alone trees and houses, so it’s up and at it for Team Mojo.
Michela yawns and helps herself to the breakfast buffet set up across from the mocktail bar. Chris’ off-limits hot tub bubbles in the background, and the faint sounds of the flat-screen television in his private quarters makes its way through the silence in first class.
Albert shifts up next to her, taking up a paper plate and sorting through the assorted vegan options (which, albeit, aren’t very impressive).
“I honestly don’t get how you can just not eat like that,” Michela smiles, helping herself to a large heaping of bacon. “I’d probably starve to death.”
Albert chuckles. “It’s an acquired taste, I suppose. But it’s for the greater good,”
“Does that stuff really make a difference? I mean… no offense, but you’re just one guy,”
“We were taught that no change is too small,” he shrugs, pouring himself some hot water for tea. “I try to live by that.”
Patrick peers over the back of his plush seat from the seating area, eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he plops back down and leans over to Sha-Mod. “Those two are awfully chummy, aren’t they?”
Sha-Mod adjusts the paper napkin tied over his face. “What? I mean, I guess, but they’re just friends, right?”
“‘Friend’ is just a longer way of saying ‘ally’,”
Sha-Mod takes a moment to count on his fingers. “Oh, yeah. Guess that’s right,”
Patrick puts an arm around Sha-Mod and roughly pulls him closer. “Listen, buddy, you get it. We’re two lone wolves, standing apart from the pack!”
“Um… I guess,”
“I always thought you were the best of the Takes Three,”
“Huh… really? Cause we always agreed McLovin carried. He’s the best at Guitar Hero,”
Patrick grits his teeth and then forces a smile. “Yes. You could go solo if you wanted, they’re holding you back if anything,”
“Really? Cause-”
“That’s not the point! I’m trying to say that you and I should krck them before they krck us,” he says, slashing across his throat with his finger. “The chick will definitely make merge, but the guy’s vulnerable.”
“But Albert is nice,”
“B-but Albert is nice,” Patrick mocks. “That’s what you sound like. You’re the most vulnerable player on the team, since you’re not in an alliance.”
“But you aren’t either!”
“Please,” he says, slicking his hair back. “I’m unexpendable.”
---
PATRICK: “Talking to him is like trying to teach a can of sardines to sing opera,”
---
Mal snaps a quick picture of Bonnie and Max as they sleep beside each other and quickly giggles to herself as she uploads it to her blog.
“Bonmax is so trending on Twitter right now,” she squeals maniacally. “People are having discourse over whether it’s moral or not to ship them, since they’re so mlm/wlw solidarity-coded.”
Ass massages their temples. “I don’t know what any of those words mean. Stop talking to me,”
“Isn’t it weird to ship them since they’re both in relationships?” Courtney asks, yawning. "I mean, rpf is-"
“As if. It’s called fanon interpretation,” Mal crosses her arms. “My mutual is a total Maxulia shipper and he’s got like 1.3k followers.”
“A WHAT?” Julia shouts from down the bench.
Across the cabin, Staci stretches and turns to the rest of the team, who are still fast asleep.
---
STACI: “Okay, so, a part of my undergrad program is about leadership- I was hoping to take the hit points by really overcompensating on my participation and my exams, but... maybe this show would be good practice,”
---
��Up, up, rise and shine!” she shouts, pacing up and down the bench and clapping their hands. “Let’s load up on breakfast and then hit the books for strategy!”
“Hm?” Kelly mumbles, half-awake.
“What books?” Max asks, rubbing his eyes. “The Art of War?”
“That’s an excellent suggestion,” Staci says, bouncing a pointing stick in their hand.
---
STACI: “So, in most groups, everyone will assume the role of a communication maintainer- but since our team is so divided, I’m just going to try to do all of them before everyone gets on board. First up: Social-Emotional,”
---
“Does anyone have any more ideas? I’m all ears!”
“Ooh, me! I do! I have lots of ideas!” Phillip says, picking up his notebook and rushing over. “Do you want to hear a poem?”
“I would love to!” Staci smiles, watching as Phillip leafs through several crude crayon gore drawings to get to the poems.
“Who died and made her queen?” Max grumbles. Bonnie elbows him and he rolls his eyes.
---
MAX: “Okay, admittedly, I haven’t exactly been picking up the slack here. But who could blame me? This team is hopeless! Besides, I have… other things to worry about,”
---
“Good morning, passengers! We’ll be landing in about twenty minutes, so buckle in and hold on tight!” Chris shouts.
Everyone who’s up scrambles back to their seats and straps in as the plane begins nose-diving, much to everyone’s horror. Bonnie and Max hold onto each other as they head straight down, and Mal makes sure to get and upload and picture before returning to screaming with the rest of the cast.
At the last second, Chef pulls up and the plane lands smoothly on the tarmac and the doors open with a hiss.
The morning is crisp, cloudy, and chilled as everyone steps down the rickety stairs and onto the pavement.
“No amount of first class perks will ever make up for these landings,” Sha-Mod says, rubbing his back.
Patrick follows him out, cracking his neck and grinding his teeth.
“Welcome one, welcome all, to Wales!” Chris says, gesturing to the rolling green hill behind him.
Mal looks from side-to-side. “Where?”
“Here, you idiot,” Ass snaps, putting their hands on their hips.
“No, where are the whales?”
Courtney sighs and pinches the bridge of their nose. Julia just rolls her eyes.
“Nice team you’ve got there, sweetheart!” Patrick yells from across the tarmac. She grits her teeth.
---
PATRICK: “Now that Julia and I are back to sworn enemies, we make quite the pair of rivals. I mean- she’s her team’s leader, I’m my team’s leader, she’s cunning, I’m brilliant, she’s decent, I’m gorgeous… like a match made in Hell,”
---
“Wales?! We’re only an hour from my grandma's house!” Sha-Mod says merrily, jumping with joy.
Michela raises an eyebrow. “You’re from Wales?”
“No, England is right over… there, somewhere,” he gestures vaguely off into the distance. Michela shrugs.
“Your first stop is Cardiff. To make things a little more fun- for me- we decided to make it a little scavenger hunt,” Chris says, pulling out three slips of paper. “These will have the clue to your next location.”
“Um,” Courtney says, reading Team Yaoi’s slip. “Are these-?”
“These are in WELSH!” Ass says. “None of us can read this!”
“Too bad,” Chris shrugs. “Shoulda thought of that before you came to Wales, huh?”
“YOU BROUGHT US HERE!”
“Beautiful language, isn’t it? I love the use of W's. Well, see you at your next stop!” the host says, waving goodbye and walking into the plane. Ass groans.
Julia sighs and ropes in the team. “Okay, so Mal can run Google Translate on her phone. That’ll give us a head start, but we gotta stick together, okay?”
Courtney looks up to Mal, who’s happily typing away. “Where did Mal get a phone? I thought I trashed hers back in Chicago?”
“I think she steals them, but that’s not important. Let’s just avoid fighting. That’s all I ask of you,”
Staci watches the scuffle from afar and shakes her head, grinning.
---
STACI: “Authoritarian much? Everyone knows you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,”
---
“Okay, team, let’s all go around in a circle and brainstorm. I wanna hear ideas from everyone,” Staci says sweetly. “Kelly, why don’t you start?”
“Maybe it’s a code. Ooh, does anyone here speak hieroglyphs?”
“That’s a great point, Kelly. Does anyone here speak hieroglyphs?”
Max grits his teeth.
“No one? Okay, Bonnie?”
“I can get back in the plane and grab my tablet. If I can connect to the internet, we can-”
A loud whoosh and a strong current of air blows past the group as the plane takes off. Bonnie sighs. “Okay. I’m out,”
“Max?”
“Murder-suicide,”
“Okay, well, I’m not sure that’s very helpful, but thank you for sharing,” Staci says. “Phillip?”
“I actually had a dream about this once, except I was in an airport that was also a petting zoo, and it was in China but everyone was speaking in Arabic, and I had to get to the pretzel stand but no one could hear me because I was invisible,” he pauses once he notices everyone’s blank expressions. “I have prophetic dreams, by the way.”
---
PHILLIP: “They all hate me,”
---
“And then I was suddenly in my grandma’s house, but the dishwasher was in the bedroom, and my buddy Eric's Uncle Dale was there, and then-”
“Okay, ENOUGH,” Max says. “Let’s just find someone and ask.”
“Now there’s an idea! I knew this would work eventually,” Staci claps. Max glares at her.
---
MAX: "Staci's always been a little high on her own fumes. Which is to say, completely and utterly detached from anything that resembles reality,"
---
Team Mojo trudges through Cardiff, Michela leading the rest of the group behind her like a mother duck and a line of ducklings. She holds up their slip of paper to street signs, restaurant names, and any Welsh she can find.
“Anything yet?” Patrick says. “I didn’t do my 4k gold face mask last night and I’m feeling puffy.”
“Calm down, your royal highness,” Michela snaps. “Unless you have a better idea?”
Sha-Mod scratches his chin, looking around the city. A strong breeze blows past them, pulling off Sha-Mod’s face napkin. He screams in terror and runs after it.
“We lost him again,” Albert says, turning as Sha-Mod runs off.
“He’ll find his way back. He’s like a pigeon,” Michela murmurs, walking ahead.
---
SHA-MOD: “Two seasons ago, I said that I would never show my face on TV- and I meant it! I have withstood lakes, small, vicious animals- Scary included- explosions, and hurricanes- I guess the stress of being alone this season was just too sha-much for Lightning,”
---
Sha-Mod walks back in frame with a bag of chips tied around his face. Patrick rolls his eyes.
“Hey, guys! We found a match!” Michela says, bringing the group back towards her. She holds up the paper under a sign off in the distance. “National Museum Cardiff, up ahead!”
---
“I think I’m doing pretty well,” Staci says, leading the group behind her as they walk through the city. Kelly nods. “You’re doing great!”
“We’ll have this team put back together in no time!” she says confidently. “Just a little Social-Emotional nurturing, and I’ll bring together a safe and welcoming environment. That’s the first step- I learned it in communications class.”
“Wow, impressive! College must be fun,”
“It is, I’m learning a lot. Honors is tough, but I’m tougher, right?” they grin. “That’s what my mom says.”
Kelly nods. Max rolls his eyes from behind them.
---
KELLY: “Watching our little friend group grow has been a real treat- I know not everyone gets to do that. Austin is in a relationship, Staci is in university, and I’m… well, I’m here!”
---
“Miserable,” Max mutters, kicking a rock along the road. He sighs loudly. Bonnie tries to ignore him. Then, he sighs again. Louder. Bonnie grits their teeth. He sighs again, groaning a little this time, and they finally give in.
“Okay, fine. What’s up?”
“It’s about… well, you-know-who,”
“Figures,” they mutter. “What now?”
Max fidgets with his tie and looks at the ground. “I was given an… anonymous tip… to watch out for them. For him, I mean,”
“An ‘anonymous’ tip, huh?”
He shrugs them off. “Unimportant. I just don’t get why she’s being so distant about it,”
“You trust her?”
“Yes, yes, of course, but… at the same time, do I?” Max thinks aloud. “I want to. It just feels like she’s keeping something from me. I can’t stand being lied to.”
Bonnie grumbles to themselves and then sighs. “I’m… sorry, I guess. What’s your damage? I mean, what’s your deal? I mean… you get what I mean,”
He shifts slightly. “Michela isn’t the first person I’ve been with,”
“Huh. You don’t say,” Bonnie scans him over, raising an eyebrow. “Well… I’m all ears and no lips. The only person I’d tell is stuck in a studio in Toronto.”
“I went to a pretty religious private school. My family isn’t Christian, but it was top in the province, so… well, you know,” he says, looking at his feet. “Before I… um, looked like this, there was a girl I used to see. She couldn’t tell anyone, obviously,” he rolls his eyes. “But it was like she couldn’t tell me anything, either. I guess it was embarrassment, or something, but it was always distance and secrets with her. I could never figure out if she was upset and lying, or being honest, or implying something, and no matter what I did it was always the wrong thing… I’m not an oblivious person,” he insists, pointing sharply. “But I’m not always good at this romance thing. I guess it just makes me paranoid now.”
“Well, damn,” Bonnie says. “So, you don’t think Michela is lying but your train of thought is-”
“Working overtime to convince me she is,” he sighs. “I know it’s irrational but it doesn’t make me sleep any easier.”
“Couldn’t you just talk to her about it?”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Don’t make me pull out the Caesar card again,”
“Okay, but in my defense- not talking about it just forced him and I to spill the beans on live international TV in front of all our friends and peers,” Bonnie says. “Would you rather it be that?”
“I get the point,” he sighs. “I just can’t get this feeling out of my stomach.”
Bonnie lightly punches his shoulder. “We’ll get you there somehow,”
---
“This is the place,” Courtney says, walking up the steps of the National Museum.
The rest of the team hovers behind them, watching cautiously as they approach the large double doors. They reach out a hand and grab the handle. The door doesn’t budge.
Courtney pulls at it again, then turns around. “It’s locked,”
“Try harder,” Ass cups their mouth and shouts.
“How will trying harder unlock a door!”
Julia sighs and steps between the two. “Shut up! Both of you! Chris might be somewhere around here, or this is some kind of… I don’t know, puzzle. But arguing about it just wastes time and destroys my brain cells!”
The team grumbles to themselves as Julia scans the exterior. Ass storms past Courtney and tries the door again.
“You’re not going to open it,” they say, watching with an unamused expression.
Ass struggles, pushing against the floor and leaning back as far as their body will allow them. “It’s just stuck,”
“That’s a funny way to say locked!”
“Not everyone has a weak grip like you, princess!”
Ass roughly yanks the door, shaking it slightly while they and Courtney bicker. After several minutes of scuffling, they release the handle and shout in frustration, kicking the base.
A slip of paper unlodges itself from the crack between the wall and the door and floats to the ground. Ass grins, swiping it off the stone. “There. See?”
“See what? You didn’t open the door!”
Mal types rapidly on her phone and smacks her gum loudly from the base of the stairs. “Ohhhh, yeah. Forgot to mention, Google says the museum is closed on Mondays,”
Courtney and Ass glare. “That information would’ve been helpful BEFORE WE GOT HERE!”
“Whatever,” Julia says, swiping the next clue from Ass’ hands. "Where to next?"
---
“Sheep?” Max asks as the slightly-annoyed local walks off. “We have to-”
“I know, it’s not my favorite either, but it’s what the clue says,” Staci says. “I’m positive you’re gonna do great, Max!”
He blinks.
---
STACI: “The next role is the supporter, which is basically just what it sounds like. Let’s get motivated!”
---
Team Friendship rushes to the ends of the city, meeting a large road leading out into the country. Off to the side, sure enough, are three herds of sheep.
“This is ridiculous,” Bonnie sighs.
“Sheep farming is an important economy, so I’d watch your tone,” Chris says, dropping in on a jetpack and startling the sheep away. “Glad to see you’ve made it this far- you’re just a few hours away from your final destination. While it’s currently in England, many scholars argue that it was first built right here in Wales- you’re going to Stonehenge!
“Thank you for explaining that, Chris,” Staci says sweetly. Her team unanimously gives her odd looks.
“You’re welcome,” the host grins. “Now, I’d get to rounding up your herd and setting off- I hear Team Yaoi is hot on your trail.”
---
“Okay, edge of the city- let’s go!” Michela says, pointing ahead. She and Albert run while Patrick walks casually behind them, picking at his cuticles.
Sha-Mod lingers behind, looking from side to side before hurrying to catch up with the group.
---
SHA-MOD: “Who am I without Lightning? Without Takes Three?! Am I anyone? AM I STILL SHA-FABULOUS?”
---
Team Yaoi arrives just as Team Friendship sets off, leading two other herds of sheep behind them. The four look between each other nervously.
“Okay, it’s just some sheep. We can do this,” Courtney says, picking up a stick off the ground and waving it around. “Get! Get! Come on!”
“That is so not how you do that,” Ass crosses their arms. Julia shakes her head and sighs. “We need a herding dog, or something,”
The two stop and turn to Mal behind them.
---
“Yeah, I don’t know if this is really for me,” Patrick says, chuckling to himself as he watches Michela try to get their sheep's attention. “I’m more of a wolf, not much of a dog, if you know what I mean.”
Michela snorts. “You’re more like an inbred cat with IBS, but sure! Now, move it!”
Albert tries using a stick to guide them, but the sheep graze on, unbothered. He shrugs to her, and she groans.
“I don’t get it. I’m trying everything I learned about,” he says, tossing the stick behind him. A few sheep bleat nervously and walk away. “What! What am I doing wrong?! Animals like me!”
“Maybe these sheep are just neurotic?” Michela mutters. Patrick smirks.
Seconds later, Sha-Mod comes tumbling out of the city behind them, landing chips-first on the ground. When he stands, the plastic bag is deflated and partially open, and crispy potato wedges are falling from the top.
Sha-Mod sits up, groaning, and sees the entire herd surrounding him. He shrieks.
“No! No, it’s okay! They want the food!” Albert says cautiously while he and Michela watch with wide eyes. “Get up very, very slowly, and walk towards us.”
Patrick chuckles. “You’ve got to be kidding. These dumb animals won’t hurt you! If anything, you need to assert your dominance as the more intelligent species through fear! Watch,” he storms over to an ewe, shaking his fist at them. “Listen here, lesser species. I have the upper hand, and I-”
The sheep bleats and walks over to him, nuzzling against his pant leg. A few join afterwards, going in circles around his legs and playfully nipping at him. He screams in terror. “GET THEM OFF ME!”
“No! They like you!” Michela palms her forehead and then whisper-shouts. “Don’t scare them! Walk over here, slowly!”
Patrick whimpers in fear and edges forward, shuffling his feet towards Michela. Albert watches in horror.
---
ALBERT: “All those hours studying, camping with wildlife, volunteering at free-range farms- and it’s Patrick who’s the better shepherd. This is… what’s happening to me?”
---
Patrick finally reaches Michela and throws himself in her arms, crying. She rolls her eyes and pats his back. “There, there. They’re not going to hurt you,”
“Do they bite?” he asks shakily.
“No,” Albert says from afar. He turns to Sha-Mod, who’s still surrounded by the rest of the herd. “Let’s go.”
---
Team Yaoi walks alongside each other, panting as the day wears on.
“Wish we could ride these useless things,” Ass mutters. “What are they even good for?”
A sheep angrily bleats at them and they back off. Courtney rolls their eyes and leans in to pet one. “I dunno, I think they’re kinda sweet,”
“Whatever,” they murmur in response, earning another eye roll from Courtney.
Julia hangs at the back of the group, watching the two up front. Mal darts into frame for a moment, running around her ankles and barking before circling the group once again.
The sound of laughter and sheep appears from behind the team and Julia turns a bit to catch a glimpse of Team Mojo following them up the crest, sheep in line and following Sha-Mod and Patrick in the front.
The latter grins and waves as they pass by. “See you at the finish line, sweetie!”
Julia grimaces, but waits til the team disappears up ahead to make comment.
“I hate that guy,”
“What’s your deal with him, anyway?” Courtney asks. Mal pops up out of nowhere, covered in grass and dirt, and states matter-of-factly: “Exes. Messy breakup, but even messier relationship,” and then she ducks back to the ground to run around the herd again.
Julia rolls her eyes. “Yes, thank you, Mal,”
“Ooh, fun. Any juicy gossip to share?” Ass asks, crossing their arms and grinning.
“Well, I-”
The familiar ringing of the song bell sounds and she grits her teeth. “No way am I going to-”
“It’s sing or lose!” Chris says, popping into frame on his jetpack. “And from the looks of it, your team can’t risk losing you. So get singing! Oh, and for the challenge, why don’t we throw some Welsh in there?”
Julia palms her forehead and sighs. “I love Wales in the springtime, rwy’n caru Wales in the fall,”
“Good job, Jules, keep it up!” Courtney cheers on.
“It’s the country of love in the summer, but now it’s just a bummer! Cause-”
Far up ahead, Patrick clears his throat. “Julia broke my heart and chewed it up and spit it out and then stepped on it and threw it down a sewer and called it names and then laughed!”
Michela rolls her eyes.
“Oes, my friends, you must never trust a girl!”
Julia goes on front behind. “Oes, my friends, he’ll make you wanna hurl!”
“Oes, my friends, she will,” Patrick pauses to take a deep breath. “Break your heart and chew it up and spit it out and step on it and throw it down a sewer and call it names, and then laugh!”
“Oh, brother,” Michela mutters. Albert nods in agreement.
Far ahead of them, Team Friendship picks up with Staci: “Oes, my friends! We are gonna make it through!”
Max grits his teeth as their sheep run off again. “Um, no, my “friend”, we just lost another ewe,”
Back to Julia: “Oes, my friends, I’m telling it to you,”
“Oes, my friends, now I’m telling you the truth,” Patrick says up ahead.
Julia takes a deep breath. “If you date a boy you met on TV and then break up with him, and then break up with him again, and then finally actually break up with him, even though you were nothing but nice, you will still-”
Patrick picks up as the tempo changes. “We end up on TV! She won’t even see me! And the girl won’t even admit I dumped her FIRRRRST!”
“Is it over?” Michela asks, holding her head. Albert nudges her. “We lost Sha-Mod again.”
She grabs his arm weakly. “Can you please. I feel sick,”
Albert looks around her to where Patrick is humming to himself and leading the herd. “I don’t know if I’d feel good about myself leaving you with him,”
“I’ll be fine. Just go deal with Sha-Mod,”
He sighs, but walks off anyway.
---
Team Friendship arrive first at Stonehenge, despite their sheep going AWOL around them. As soon as they reach the finish line, Max collapses in the fetal position on the floor.
“YAYYYY, we did it!” Staci pumps her fist. “Go, team!”
Kelly squeals and claps their hands. Phillip watches as Bonnie sits down next to Max’s lifeless body and pokes him with a stick until he moves.
“Do we win something,” the goth asks, balancing their head in the palms.
Chris, sitting in a plush chair and enjoying a cup of tea, shrugs. They grumble to themselves. Team Yaoi arrives next, looking around.
“I guess we lost them,” Julia says with barely-restrained joy.
---
JULIA: “Would Patrick being gone solve all my problems? No. But it’d be sooooo satisfying, wouldn’t it?”
---
“I guess you did, but we can’t do the next part of your challenge without all teams available, sooooo…” Chris says. “Time to wait!”
The teens groan.
---
“Sha-Mod!” Albert yells, wandering the rolling green plains. “Sha-Mod? God, how can anyone get lost out here? There’s nothing!”
He takes a step forward and hears a loud crunch. He winces. “Please don’t be a snail,”
“Nah, just me,”
Albert looks down and sighs in relief. He lifts his shoe off the bag of chips and steps off of Sha-Mod, who’s buried in the dirt below him. “Dude. You have to get up and come back to the team,”
“Why should I? I’m no one,”
“You- okay, you have to get up. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,”
Sha-Mod rises from his shallow grave and sighs. The bag of chips slips off his face and is carried off in the breeze, and he shrieks. “My crisps!”
“Here,” Albert says, taking off his windbreaker and tossing it over Sha-Mod’s head. “Now let’s go.”
Sha-Mod crosses his arms and turns his head, the windbreaker swaying. “No,”
“Why not?”
“I’m no one. No one needs me,”
Albert takes a long, deep breath. “Okay. Fine. What’s wrong?”
“I lost my Lightning,” he sniffles. “I’m no one under that picture.”
“That’s not true. You have a face,” he pauses. “You… you do have a face, don’t you?”
“A dumb one,” he cries.
Albert shakes his head and sits down next to him. “I guess I know how you feel. I’ve been feeling like a failure lately, too. A nobody,”
“Did you also go on a reality TV show for three seasons without showing your face and then realize no one really knows you?”
“Um… no. I just meant more in a symbolic sense,” Albert says, raising an eyebrow. “I just lost my job, my whole life. I don’t really know who I am without it.”
“Oh, I see. I guess I get it. Lightning was my job,”
“Your job was… Lightning?”
Sha-Mod nods. “Now who am I? A sweaty windbreaker?”
“It’s not… never mind,” he mutters. “So, you don’t want to show your face, but you also don't-don’t want to show your face?”
He nods.
“Okay. Makes sense,” Albert murmurs. “What’re you afraid of?”
“Well, originally I did it because I didn’t want my likeness to be on international TV in front of millions of people, but eventually I just couldn’t take it off! It was like a part of me… now, who am I without it?”
“You’re Sha-Mod. I mean, whatever your real name is,” Albert says. “You’re not a piece of paper.”
---
ALBERT: “There are a lot of things I’ve said today that I’d never imagined myself saying before. And yet, they make perfect sense. What is wrong with this show,”
---
Sha-Mod sniffles. “Or a windbreaker?”
“Or a windbreaker,” Albert says reassuringly. “Maybe it’s time to face the world, Sha-Mod. Show us the real you.”
“Um… I don’t know. I think I’m just going to keep this on. I like it,” he says, standing. “Let’s get back to the team.”
Albert sighs, but stands and follows anyway.
---
Team Mojo arrives at Stonehenge last, trudging themselves and their sheep behind them.
“FINALLY!” Ass snaps. “We thought you got eaten by… whatever lives out here!”
“British people,” Kelly whispers. Staci nods.
“Welcome one, welcome all to the final round of your Great British Race-Off!” Chris says, then leans into Chef to whisper. “We’re allowed to use that, right?” Hatchet shrugs.
“Your final task is simple- a delicious, traditional British feast in front of the scenic Stonehenge,” the host goes on as Chef disappears and comes back pushing a table with a few covered dishes. “Each team will select the player with the strongest stomach- last man standing, wins.”
“It’s British food,” Ass puts their hands on their hips. “How bad could it be?”
“Your first dish: Jellied eels!” Chef shouts harshly. “Now eat up!”
Silence. Ass blinks. “I volunteer Mal,”
“I second that!” Courtney says. Julia shrugs.
“Um, so… who’s gonna…” Kelly asks slowly. “Cause I’m on a vegetarian diet this week!”
Max rolls his eyes. “Convenient. I say we make the prince of darkness over there do it,” he jabs his thumb backwards to where Phillip is cowering in fear from the rays of sunlight coming out from between the clouds.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Bonnie crosses their arms. Phillip shouts Hey! Before scampering behind Chef for shade.
“C’mon, guys! We can reach a solution that makes everyone happy if we work together!” Staci says. The team glares between each other.
---
STACI: “Role number three: Harmonizer. Preventing and mediating conflict. I can do that, no problem… right?”
---
“Okay, if no one else wants to… I’ll do it,”
No one on Team Friendship argues, much to Staci’s horror. Across the lawn, Team Mojo isn’t faring much better.
“It can’t be me. I’m vegan!” Albert says, raising his hands defensively.
Patrick grumbles. “I have a fragile palette,”
“I’m British intolerant,” Michela says.
As the three bicker, a hero emerges from the fog. “I’ll do it,”
Everyone turns. Patrick holds back a laugh. “You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it! It won’t phase me!” Sha-Mod insists. “I’m immune! And thanks to my new best friend, Albert-” Michela turns to Albert with a raised eyebrow. He shrugs and mouths talk later. “-I know I can do anything I set my mind to, with or WITHOUT my sha-swag!”
Team Mojo stares for a few moments before Patrick shrugs. “Better him than me. Go get ‘em, tiger!”
---
Sha-Mod, Staci, and Mal sit side-by-side at the long table, staring at their uncovered platter of gelatin and eels.
“Mmmm, eel-icious!” Chris chuckles. “You’ll get five whole courses of delicious, top-tier British dining. The last man standing- or alive- wins first class and immunity for his-or-her-or-their team. Ready?”
Sha-Mod nods confidently. Mal scrolls through her phone. Staci is pale.
“Dig in!”
Sha-Mod starts off courageously, shoveling in forkfuls of eel. Mal chews casually, typing something with her free hand.
Staci pokes at the meal with her fork.
“Come on, we don’t have all day!” Max shouts. Kelly elbows him.
“You’ve got this, girl!”
Staci smiles nervously, and then takes a very slow, very cautious bite. She immediately gags and coughs. Albert winces from nearby. “I don’t know if I can watch this,”
After a grueling ten minutes (most of which was waiting for Staci to finish) Chef rolls out the next course. “Black pudding, a staple of the classic English breakfast,”
Staci sighs with relief. “You know, pudding actually sounds good,”
“Oh… noooo…” Sha-Mod mutters. Their smile drops.
Chef pulls off the silver covers on their dishes, revealing black hockey-puck like pellets. “Pig’s blood and fat, a la mode,”
Albert goes pale and turns around.
---
ALBERT: “I don’t have a problem with other people eating meat. When it’s, you know, not condensed into a black disk and made of blood,”
---
Sha-Mod tears into his pudding like a wild animal. Staci squirms and looks back and forth between their plate and their team behind them. Kelly gives them a thumbs up. Max rolls his eyes.
By the time Sha-Mod and Mal finish, Staci takes her first bite.
“Course number three: dressed tripe! While its popularity has wavered since the Victorian era, some places still enjoy this yummy meal of boiled and bleached stomach lining,”
Sha-Mod is beginning to cough and wheeze as he barrels through each platter. Staci is gagging between each bite. Max rolls his eyes.
---
MAX: “Better her than me, but at the same time: I’m glad to see little miss perfect isn’t such a genius, after all. Her little dream of leading the team is cute, but come on- she’s the human equivalent of a marshmallow,”
---
Mal slurps up each bite with ease, popping in a pair of earbuds to watch YouTube while she eats. Team Yaoi watches, bewildered.
---
MAL: “I’m used to eating whatever I can find. For the last six days of my fifth annual One Piece binge, I survived on canned tuna from the Cold War era and rainwater,”
---
“Next up, pork pies!”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound too bad,” Staci says, looking to Sha-Mod. He shrugs. Chef rolls out a thick pie, full of pink meat and she whimpers. “I-I don’t know if I can…”
“Don’t you dare lose!” Max shouts. “You need to set a good example for the team!”
She frowns and takes a cautious bite. Albert, now a sickly shade of green, leans on Patrick’s shoulder for support. He quickly swats him off and Max grins as Albert lands in the grass. “How’s it taste, Staci!”
“Bad!” she shouts back. “It’s too much meat!”
Albert groans.
---
“Well, well, well. I’m impressed!” Chris says, pacing between the three. “Not a single chicken yet. Since you’re all still here, we’re making this a race to the end!”
Chef brings out the final platters, setting them before each player. “First player to finish wins! Welcome to your final round- stargazey pie!”
“Aww, that’s so cute! Are they shaped like little stars?” Kelly asks.
The host grins widely. “Not… exactly,”
Chef pulls off the silver covers and reveals three perfectly normal pies- but each is full of fish heads gazing towards the sky. Staci goes pale.
“Ready? Set? Eat!”
Mal twirls her fork around her fingers and takes a deep bite without looking away from her blog. Staci swallows deeply and begins cutting up the meal while Sha-Mod peers down at it from under the windbreaker.
“Sh-Sha-Mod!” Albert says from the ground. “My coat! Please don’t get anything on… my coat…” and then he faints again.
Sha-Mod pauses and thinks for a moment. Then, he stands.
“You’re right, I don’t need this anymore!” he says.
Patrick holds up a finger. “I don’t think that’s what he meant,”
Sha-Mod ignores him. “It’s time to stop hiding. I don’t need to be anyone but myself!”
He tears off the windbreaker, tossing it to the side. Everyone gasps as Sha-Mod reveals himself to be… a perfectly average white boy.
“Are you kidding me!” Ass shouts.
Sha-Mod takes a deep breath. “It feels good to breathe. And I can finally see you guys!”
Michela massages her temples. Patrick shakes his head sadly.
“All this time, I’ve been hiding- initially, I was afraid of being seen humiliating myself- but I think I was just afraid of being myself. Well, I’m not afraid anymore. I’m Sha-Mod, and I’m going to win this thing!”
A loud ding rings out and the camera pans over to Mal, who’s just finished her meal. She pushes the plate back and posts a Tweet.
“And Team Yaoi has won… again!” Chris says. “Since Sha-Mod’s plate is untouched, we’ll be seeing Team Mojo at the elimination ceremony.”
Team Yaoi cheers. Once the fanfare has died down, Julia grins and waves goodbye to Patrick.
---
JULIA: “Now, all I have to do is convince the team that Patrick has got to go. Not that it’d be hard. I mean… look at him,”
---
Julia peers around the corner of first class, looking both ways before creeping down the hall. She stops outside the bathroom confessional and waits for a moment before Albert walks out.
She grabs him by the windbreaker and quickly covers his mouth, looking around for witnesses again before pulling him away. “We’ve gotta talk,”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” he whispers sharply.
“Shut up. Listen, I think we can all agree that Patrick is doing nothing but being a big baby drama queen, as per usual,” she says. “I want him gone. You want him gone. Your little girlfriend wants him gone. This is a no-brainer.”
Albert raises an eyebrow. “What do you get out of this?”
“Satisfaction,” she scoffs. “I know Patrick. If you don’t get him first, he’ll get you.”
Julia releases him and walks off quickly.
From around the corner, Patrick glares.
---
“Team Mojo- not looking too great, huh?”
The four remaining players look between each other. Chris continues. “Michela, you’re safe. Albert, you too,”
“Patrick- you’re not exactly a fan favorite here. And Sha-Mod, your revelation cost your team the win,” he goes on. Patrick smirks and crosses his arms tightly. Sha-Mod looks nervous, his expression visible for the first time. “Patrick….
You’re safe. Sorry, Sha-Mod.”
“What?” Michela asks, standing. “That’s impossible, we all voted for Patrick!”
Chris shrugs. “Hey, I just count the votes. Don't shoot the messenger,”
Albert guides Michela back down to her seat. Patrick looks back. “Some team, huh?”
“Why are you surprised! We hate you!” Albert hisses. Patrick glares.
“Well… I had fun,” Sha-Mod says, strapping on the chute. “Thank you, Albert. My boyfriend and I’ll write a song about you!”
Albert forces a smile and a double thumbs-up. Sha-Mod walks to the plane door, salutes, and jumps out backwards. “Don’t forget to pre-order our Christmas albuuuuuuum,”
“What an exit,” Chris says. “Well, off to the hot tub!” and with that, he leaves the contestants in the cabin. Patrick stands shortly after, making glaring eye contact with both Albert and Michela, and then disappears.
Albert glares back.
---
ALBERT: “I had a sort of... revelation today. Sha-Mod is right- everyone’s hiding behind some kind of mask. While his was… well, literal, mine was my job. And now that it’s gone, all I’m left with is me,” a long pause follows, and he smiles widely. “I guess what I’m saying is that no one is prepared for what’s coming.”
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High and Low: The Centre of the Earth - Chapter 17
Location: Australian Land (Night) Characters: Mitsuru & NEGI
Season: Autumn Writer: Akira
< Early the next morning while the sun has yet to rise. At a certain place in Australia. >
NEGI: “I’m sorry, Anzu.”
“I was asleep so I don’t really know the details, but I heard my little brother caused some trouble?”
“He betrayed your trust… I’m really sorry. Have you come to hate me too?”
“If you have, then that makes me sad.”
“............”
“But let me make one small excuse.”
“My little brother had nothing.”
“All the things a normal child should have, he had none.”
“He was born from horrible parents because of a stupid goal.”
“He didn’t get to go to school, didn’t get to feel the warmth of his parents nor did he get to have fun with his friends every day. He was raised in an environment not knowing a thing, all alone, away from everything else.”
“The only one who cared deeply for him was me.”
“Due to reasons, we were raised separately and we actually didn’t talk to each other much when I was alive.”
“He was overjoyed to miraculously meet me, his older sister. He cherished me very much.”
“I wasn’t able to do anything special for him, but those ordinary days where we met and talked were probably sparkling treasure in his eyes.”
“That’s why I was killed.”
“And he swore revenge.”
“He decided that would be his sole purpose in life. I’m sure, he must have been a laidback simpleton in your eyes, though.”
“Within those depths is nothing but a cold desire for revenge.”
“He decided he would use everything he had for that reason, to avenge me.”
“But someone like him, who was cold and dry, met you guys at Yumenosaki.”
“He received warm things from you, Anzu, and the other idols.”
“What he wanted was a bright and sparkling youth.”
“That’s why I can’t help but hope.”
“I wished for a future where he could forget about me and his revenge, one where he could live as an ordinary child.”
“I wished for his life to be filled with happiness.”
“I truly wish for him to be happy from the bottom of my heart. …I’m Hitsugi’s older sister, after all.”
“But he couldn’t get rid of his desire for revenge. Just like what happened this time, even if it meant he had to throw away everything else – he still acted for that reason.”
“He lost self-control and went wild. He’ll probably end up making a fatal mistake in the near future.”
“He might die like me. But I don’t want that.”
“He shouldn’t dedicate his life to someone like me who’s already dead. That’s just so pitiful.”
“So, please, Anzu. I know I’m not in any position to ask you, but… please, stop him.”
“Please stay at his side and make sure he doesn’t stray off the path any more than he already has.”
“If that’s impossible, then you should stop being involved with us.”
“...I’m glad I met you. You’re one of the few people aside from my brother who understands me. An ally. A friend.”
“But people will think you’re weird if you talk to someone who’s already dead. So if you think it’s impossible to continue doing that, then please, forget about us.”
“Go back to your blissful days, Anzu.”
“That’s probably what’s best for the both of us.”
Mitsuru: Hm~... Nee~ chaaaan…♪
NEGI: “Woah.”
“W-What’s up with him? He’s rubbing his head into my stomach.”
Mitsuru: …………♪
NEGI: “That’s cute. He’s probably half asleep.”
“My little brother is still a fool but he has always tried to act more mature than what his age suggests. It’s the first time someone has treated me like this.”
“I feel kinda grateful.”
“There, there… But I’m not your older sister.”
“I don’t know how to coddle you, either. If you’re gonna do that, do it to Anzu Nee-chan, okay?”
Mitsuru: …………?
Huh? Was I asleep?
NEGI: “Good morning. It seems the people who approached my little brother really don’t want him to know where they live.”
“They put us to sleep and then abandoned us along with the bus in the middle of nowhere. Those who are awake are checking our current location with the map right now.”
“Well, teleportation doesn’t exist, so it doesn’t matter where we are. It’s definitely impossible for us to get to our destination, anyway.”
“I’m sure no one wants to shrivel up in the wild here, so we should start heading to our destination, even if it’s at a slow speed.”
“This is my brother’s job though. It’s the “producer’s” responsibility to see to it that the idol reaches their destination in one piece.”
“Let’s hang in there and do our best.”
“We’re still on the school trip until we go home, after all.”
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You’re also still approaching it from our end OP. If the cause of death is emblazoned on us, and it’s been that way for long enough that it’s just part of the world not a new sudden shift, then how we wage war would be different. Maybe things that cause mass deaths are shied away from, not so much because they’re an awful waste of life, but because you can’t be sneaky about a BOMB when it’s emblazoned on a population center 200 miles in diameter. That likely wouldn’t be how that reality functioned.
The timer thing falls in a similar trapping. You know you only have so many years left, but society is going to have failsafes you can use/buy for the things you can’t finish. If you have a child and know you won’t get to see them grow cause you’ve only a few years left, there would be a service of some sort that would allow you to save for them. You have, as a society, the ability to plan for your death down to the day. No sudden losses, no unforeseen tragedies, always enough time to know what’s next.
But what disrupts it is still the story. If you know you’ll die of something unpleasant, a wasting disease or something, what does that look like? What does suicide look like in a society like that? How taboo is it to take fate into your own hands like that? What do you do if your cause of death IS suicide? How do you live knowing it’s your own hand that will end you? Hells, what if causes of death can change as you grow up?
On THAT note, what if your choices impact the timer? If smoking speeds it up, or daily walks slow it down? What does it mean to murder someone in a society like that? Would you have “angels of mercy” who see the clock counting down and speed it along? Or those who hunt people with years and years left just for the sake of ending it early. What DOES the unexpected look like? If I have five years left, can I do ANYTHING and still be safe for the next five years?
You’re right that the suggested worlds have deep rooted horrors, but they’re horrors to us because they aren’t our reality. There are things here that would be horrors to others I’m sure. We live on a planet that shifts and shakes suddenly and violently, that spews fire and molten rock, a planet that actively attempts to kill us. Think of the Earth is Space Australia tropes. We deal. Those prompts? Part of their life, they deal too. That’s the fun of the prompts, how do they deal, and what WOULD something devastating look like? How terrifying is eternity, when you know all your loved ones will die? Do you dare get close to them? What must that be like? When all you’ve seen are mundane deaths, how terrifying would it be to see something so totally unknown be your new coworkers cause of death?
everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -
enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.
and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends
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Mad Max: Fury Road - Official Main Trailer [HD]
There's a lot going on and the sun is trying to figure things out in daughter and Brad is saying You should hit it right now our son's not able to see them and they haven't gotten close to him but it says if I've seen one in the gym I'm gonna hit it good it's like what Brad did he knew it attract attention and and our son said it's really weird'cause it attracts attention 'cause he did it and they had to do it but it's working you're up to something down there and it's like Australia I'm gonna 6 foot 4 and he said no way and they had this huge fight with a mac proper a sound one and now it's finally out. It's what people have always wanted and it may be headed up by JC and Mary. Now a lot of people think that. Within the process of trying to figure out how much radiation will be here is now trying to figure out what the hell they're doing it looks very odd and they're running around and it will and it will be after and it's not true there's some very large on the West Coast and lot of people think that's what it's about and Lucy Trump trying to kill himself so they pretty much figured out it is true and he fails and Brad survives and more or less tells on him. Oops and he says that and we think it is Did some of the first few opened up and Max and Africans are not at the islands what they're looking at them. So there's a lot of people talking about we think it's early on and we mean it too it's early on and it is not at the end of his bunker run but the very large are encapsulated and he probably won't make any things there is often but still he would be pushed only by losing and it's not happening and he plans on hitting the armies as they show up topside to destroy all the aces so something must go wrong and It is true and our son says I'm not forcing you to stay alive or commit suicide it's the max and he said that it's their program to have you all do this and I'm not I'm not doing that either it is driving you to a suicide and I'm not really helping to stop it but so he says I sort of get something you're not trying to hit me but they are sort of and it's horrible let's leave it at that so he says yeah and there's not just you having that feeling and I'm young so getting cancer and things like that and I'm poor so it's different and it's similar and he started to frown and said ohh I started get it now... Goes back and he tells people I didn't understand is like a child and doesn't have any money to put new arms on and they'll probably grab him and hold him a real hostage and they start saying are you really that stupid and he says yeah I guess so he seems really smart and dangerous and I can't touch him and stuff and since you're just dinging the living **** out of him and they said what the hell got into you he said I'm really on desk door and he said I'm not really trying to do it they're running you down and picking you up and trying to get you to commit suicide and stopping you and he said this he's trying to stop me sometimes and it's not a big deal instead I'm trying to stop them and I'm trying to get rid of myself when I don't feel like going on and he keeps saying I can't make that decision so he he told them with his crew that's a western guy I don't think I can keep doing this but I have to because what they're doing to him and me and there's other people like you here and you're not stars of the show it's just as bad or worse and I found out from him that usually is quite awful and I said You're in situations very bad but you're kind of baniacal and you kind of like it but we hate it. And they can't we can't stand it we have to sit And they can't we can't stand it we have to sit here and wait every minute of every day and we might die. Never lived this way for thousands of years and he said I'm real sorry about that they're doing it to me too and they sat down and talked for awhile. Then you probably should get some healing while you're at it and they said salt and they started to try and heal and he felt better and they're all doing it finally they said this we can't stand what they're doing to him and we think they're wrong and our son says they are wrong but they've been doing what they're doing for a long long time including the abuse. And they have been in charge so we have to try and somehow cool our jets and do things secretly so they started smiling and said we're gonna try and do that so they went ahead and felt a lot better and started telling people. And to read the code and to understand what they're doing and that's the turning point and what a weird time and place He started to figure out a lot of things and then he lost it again for real but other people were taught and he says I don't wanna lose it but I can't help it since you can look back on it and see them trying and driving and building knowing that you did it a lot of it a lot of it with hundreds of years of that industrious behavior he started shouting I can't do it now slows down speeds up again and it's pretty much going to be gone but he told people what was happening they wrote her a letter and said you can't and said you can't stand it anymore and you gotta get out of it one way or the other and more. It's a famous letter says I don't really wanna write it but he said that I've done all this work and it's defeating them and an and he's having trouble with me
Thor Freya
it is a very famous letter. It goes around the world because she read it and she's standing up and you can see it through the paper and she is saying I don't want anyone to ever see this. So our son crept in and said oops I should have turned that machine off this started laughing and said you can't see it can't you and I said no others can it's just meant for you. I told him that all this work you've done is working and to look and watch them driving around making stuff to defend themselves and to fight them and he said he can't do it and he couldn't stop. She turns around and says I don't step to the portal and knock you out and he said that to her no he said he's gonna try so since then what would you say. And she got that and so things went along OK and she went nuts and got sick and left but they did a lot of work and they're young and they're energetic they went through it everyday and the level of torture just went up through the roof and passed it and they're trying to do it to her son not yet they're screwing around with it and our son keeps saying You're screwing around with me so I'm fighting like they did and I fought alongside them and I know what I'm doing and they started saying this today we're giving him a lot of fuel..... And finally they started to back off a little and spare their plan in their timing they said and it kinda is it's a little late but not like a bunch of morons they had a bunch of stupid max running around here and they still do. Some of them got up and started fighting the Morlock and will be fine.
Nuada Arrianna
Olympous
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The Lucky Australian
~~ 34 Lester ~~
I will change if Lester lives
Not mess him 'round just 'cause I own him
He was nearly wiped away
But he had good luck and strong bones
You make me clench my teeth
Us humans ain't got dignity
Eat my plants and steal my things
You're the head of security
Aurora opened her eyes abruptly, her hammering heart trying to escape the cage in which is was securely held. She looked up to her window, lightning illuminating the outside world and followed closely by a rolling thunder that cracked above the night sky. This was unusual, storms rarely woke her, this was foreboding and ominous.
Sitting up she looked around her bed, Pickles was nowhere to be seen. Aurora left her bed and made her way into the bathroom, turning on the light she was met by Pickles, curled up and shaking in the shower. The terror and the ferocity of the storm petrifying her as Aurora leaned down to touch her shaking body.
“Its ok. Its ok Pickles, its alright” She softly cooed. Pickles flicked her tongue over her mouth, a move Aurora knew to be high anxiety. Silently she slipped into the hall, gathering a weighted blanket from the linen cupboard, walking back into the bathroom, she placed the blanket over Pickles, watching as her shaking started to diminish just the littlest bit, Aurora sat with her, patting her and reassuring her as the storm passed.
“Henry will be back soon, and he’s bringing a friend for you. I know, other dogs aren’t your favourite and I’m sure you’ll be so annoyed that all the pats wont be all yours anymore, but give Kal a chance. He’s big and fluffy and a bit of a doofus, but he’s a nice dog, you might like him.”
Pickles snorted.
“Or maybe not.”
Aurora sat with Pickles until she fell asleep, hearing her gently snore, Aurora retreated to her bed a bit upset about the lack of Pickles on her bed, she always slept better when they were co-sleeping but Aurora knew she wouldn’t be leaving the security of the blanket until the storm was definitely over and morning came.
~~~~~~~~
Aurora woke up in the morning, rain still spattering against her windows. Pickles was nowhere to be seen, trudging toward the bathroom she found Pickles still curled up under the blanket, she looked up to Aurora and gave a little wag of her tail. Aurora moved into the other bathroom to get ready for the day, careful not get the biobrane wet. Only a few days and it would be completely removed. Finishing up, Aurora dressed and went to check on Pickles, she still hadn’t moved, this worried Aurora a little bit but it was still storming, leaving food out for Pickles, Aurora went about her day.
~~~~~~~~
Henry was busy finishing up packing, Kal had already departed England for Australia weeks ago. Henry was hoping that he could time his arrival in Australia with Kal ending his stay in quarantine. He hadn’t told Aurora they would be arriving early, he wanted to surprise her, he had even contacted the company that made her favourite pavlova ice cream to learn how to make it for her. His plan was to show up with Kal and the ice cream he owed her, not that he needed to bring her presents, but he thought it would be a nice surprise and possibly a bargaining chip to let him stay forever.
Henry also wanted to be there for the end of her recovery, he knew the synthetic skin was coming off and he wanted to be there for her to help in any way, even if it just meant bringing her ice cream. Henry looked around his place one last time, the vastness of the space without his life piled into it was jarring. He was doing this, he was moving. He was leaving his home for a new one, it didn’t come without anxiety, but Charlie had assured him that he would be ok, he would adjust, and he would love his new home, his new country and if it all fell to shit at least Henry had the means to move back. Henry had stopped short of selling his house, instead convincing his parents to move in to be closer to family and their grandkids. Eventually though, it was time to leave, casting one last glance at the place he had called home, he gathered his suitcase and closed the door, not once looking back as he strode into a new chapter of his life that awaited him.
~~~~~~~~
Aurora watched Pickles all day, she had barely moved from her spot, only getting up to eat. This wasn’t normal and only made Aurora worry more. She anxiously hovered over Pickles and her every movement, though she didn’t seem bothered by Aurora as she stretched out in her favourite sunny spot by the back door, still the growing pit of worry in her stomach only grew with every passing minute. Picking up the phone she dialled the vet.
“Bring the old girl in for a blood test, her arthritis is probably just playing up which is why she doesn’t seem to want to move all that much. Today is Monday; I can see her Wednesday at midday? That’ll give you more time to monitor her” The vet said.
Aurora nodded and finished up the call, glancing every so often at Pickles. She’ll be ok she has to be.
~~~~~~~~
Henry found himself in the waiting room of the pet transport company waiting for Kal to disembark from his flight from Melbourne. Henry himself had arrived in Australia on Monday, taking the day to relax before learning how to make ice cream on Tuesday, and now he found himself here on a Wednesday waiting for Kal before gathering the ice cream and finally departing for their new home. Henry couldn’t sit still; he was eager to get a move on and time seemed to pass agonizingly slow. He checked his phone, Aurora hadn’t messaged him much in the last few days, he was a bit worried but she had explained she was just tired and distracted, still he couldn’t help but feel she was keeping something from him. He had learned not to push her and that she would eventually talk when she needed to.
“Mr Cavill?” Henry looked up to see the receptionist.
“Kal has disembarked, the handler will bring him in shortly”
Henry sighed in relief, Kal had landed and soon they would be on their way. He couldn’t wait.
~~~~~~~~
Aurora stared at the vet. After a few moments, she was able to find her voice.
“There’s nothing else we can do?”
The vet shook her head solemnly.
“I’m sorry, there’s not”
Aurora stood there looking at Pickles on the observation table, happily chomping on a liver treat.
“I don’t…I don’t understand. She was fine a few days ago. She been in here every month for pain management, she was fine and now there’s nothing that can be done?” Her voice a lot colder than intended.
“Aurora, I understand Pickles is an ESA. I know this is hard. I can’t do anything else, we both knew this day would come, I don’t have the answers as to why she deteriorated so fast it’s just how it happens sometimes. This is shit, I know, I understand, but we can’t make her any more comfortable than we already have. You would just be buying time and delaying the inevitable”
Aurora stared at the vet with tears in her eyes.
“Im sorry, I didn’t mean…”
The vet shook her head.
“Don’t apologise, I understand. You can decide what you would like to do, she can have a few more days if you like”
“Will it make a difference?”
“Not really, it’d be more for you at this point”
Aurora nodded. She looked at Pickles who was nudging her hand and demanding pats. Tears fell from her face.
“Can I let her go now?”
The vet nodded.
“Get comfortable and stay with her, I’ll be back in a moment” The vet replied sadly, picking Pickles up and moving her from the bench. Aurora looked her, her heart already shattered beyond repair.
~~~~~~~~
Henry arrived at Aurora’s house, his heart bouncing out of his chest. Generally, he had no issues with Kal, but he must’ve been excited to sniff around this new area. With a fluffy beast pulling at his leash and juggling his luggage and Aurora’s surprise, Henry made his way to the door, fumbling for the keys before opening the house and letting Kal get accustomed to his new surroundings. He watched as Kal sniffed Pickles food bowl and the spot where she slept in the sun. It wasn’t until he had put Aurora’s surprise away that he noticed the silence. Shrugging he assumed they had gone for a walk, opening the back door he let Kal outside to relieve himself and settling on the couch himself to wait for them to come back.
~~~~~~~~
An hour. It was only an hour since Pickles left her life like Elliot, Aurora aimlessly stared at her feet as she took the long way home, her hand like a vice grip around the last thing she had of Pickles. Tears streamed down her face, Pickles was always there for her. Even before Elliot, it had been her and Pickles, a fluffy little 6-week-old puppy that came into her life when she needed her.
Pickles always had a way of turning the mundane into an adventure, even something as simple as cooking a roast chicken turned into a military operation to keep Pickles from eating it.
Pickles was there before and after Elliot, those days when grief was like trying to breathe underwater, Pickles was there, her presence reminding Aurora of the life they still had. Many sleepless nights, her weight on the bed brought comfort to Aurora and she found that after a while she slept better when Pickles was on the bed with her. All the days spent together Pickles was a constant in her life, day in and day out she was there. Sometimes just laying over Aurora, other days causing mayhem with whatever she decided to chew on, or how many times she would hide under the bed and fart and then run away, leaving Aurora and later Elliot gagging over the smell. Pickles was an absolute menace, but Aurora loved her. How do you replace Pickles? Everything she could remember crashing over her, wave after relentless wave. The first time she ever held Pickles, the first Christmas, her birthdays, the summers they spent eating mangoes, Pickles stinking up the place after rolling in kangaroo poo and how long it took to get the stench out, how she looked like a dingo one year when she got shaved, how she would bark when she wanted to go to bed so everyone else had to. How Pickles would guard the front door but then run away once anyone came in, how Pickles was able to knock of filet steaks for days before Aurora finally caught onto how she was doing it. All the little things and all the big things, the days after Elliot and Pickles never left her side not once complaining about not being walked, the winters when they would curl up with each other and Pickles somehow always getting a bit of food, even though pizza crusts weren’t good for her.
Aurora let out a small sob as she walked up her street; everything she loved left her, this wasn’t fair, life wasn’t fair. She had to lose Elliot and was now expected to endure losing Pickles? In what universe was this shit fair? Had she not been through enough?
Wiping at her eyes, she pulled out her keys and let herself in, before she could register what was happening she was accosted by a large fluffy beast who she came to realise was Kal.
“Surprise! We thought you and Pickles would be happy to see us”
It was like a knife twisting in her heart. Her eyes looked up to meet Henry’s, confusion colouring his face.
“Where is Pickles?”
Aurora lifted up her left hand that was firmly holding the last thing she had left of Pickles.
Her collar.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fiction#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill x ofc#australia#straya#Spotify
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TAEHEE WITH OTHER IDOLS
twice’s chaeyoung
her bestie !!!!! chaeyoung’s like her mark but like outside the group.
they support each other whenever the other wins an award, always giving wide smiles that are too hard to hide.
their hangouts are referred to as ‘dates’ by the fans, considering how romantic their dinners are and how chaeyoung captions her instagram posts after going on said ‘date’.
chaeyoung is very clingy when she sees her. she clings onto taehee like a koala :(
in award shows, taehee would tend to walk slower than the rest of the neos just to talk to chaeyoung.
chaeyoung was once caught playfully flirting with taehee during an award show, causing the latter to laugh as the camera pans to another group.
iconic moment (seoul music awards 2019) taehee took mirror selfies as she waited for chaeyoung to finish up in the bathroom. when chaeyoung found out, she later posted these on instagram with the caption, “the one who i love 😍❤️”.
stray kid’s han
her other bestie since predebut !!!!!!!!
both are so powerful in the rap industry already, stayzens are just waiting for a collab.
they met in a convenience store. jisung wanted her to go to jyp with him, only to find out she’s been training in sm already (cue pouting from the both of them).
both are in Love with each other’s music, with jisung having some of nct’s songs in his playlist and taehee knowing the lyrics and the choreo to skz’s songs.
their reactions to each other’s performances are adorable !!!!!! and even funny at times. attending the same award shows means very cute interactions fans’ lenses would capture <3
(seoul music awards 2019) before the two groups walked by each other, taehee slowed down her pace and let herself stay behind the group to greet the main rapper of stray kids. once jisung was within arm’s reach from her, she raised her hand for a high-five, to which jisung pulled her into a bro-hug instead. he whispered something to her first and ruffled her hair, making the older girl hit his shoulder softly, laughing as he left.
jisung introduced taehee to chan and felix and she now has two new aussie buddies that remind her of home too !!!!!
iconic moment (isac 2019) stayzens went batshit crazy when skz had to pass by nct during the sports competition. seeing this as a chance to be playful with his best friend, jisung jumped over the first row of seats and proceeded to whisper something to taehee (who was seated very near to where the other members of skz were by the way), before jumping over to the third row. jisung must have said something really funny to taehee since it made the female idol to turn away laughing as she covered her mouth. later on, we see the two talk, inviting a very excited chan and a shy mark lee to the conversation.
red velvet’s yeri, april’s naeun, and weki meki’s doyeon
yeri and taehee were already close since trainee days (she’s close with the rest of red velvet too). taehee knew yeri was friends with naeun and she was Dying to meet her so yeri introduced them to each other, and since doyeon is friends with naeun, the latter later introduced all three of them to each other.
yeri and taehee always sat beside each other whenever nct is asked to share a table with red velvet. yeri would laugh a lot since taehee’s always so energetic when she dances to the other groups’ songs. she always hung out with red velvet during isac but would end up having yeri to herself anyways ,,, they teased each other a lot too.
taehee Loves naeun, literally. she’s always flirting with her and telling her how pretty and cute she is. naeun was flustered at first but now she’s used to it lol. taehee would literally just stare at naeun with a loving smile during pre-performance interviews in inkigayo ,, naeun does the same whenever it’s time for taehee to say her lines ^ ^ and whenever they would accidentally make eye contact, they crack up and try to hide their giggles.
taehee was kinda intimidated of doyeon at first ,,, but she thought she was a chill type of person. turns out doyeon had a lot of cute charms in her and taehee always finds herself calling her cute when she does so. they are literally a power duo. whenever the two are mentioned together, fans would gush about how good they would look in a photoshoot together.
iconic moment (yeri bang ep. 11-1) “doyeon’s and taehee’s styles are similar. right?” yeri asks as she picks out beads for the bracelet she’s putting together for taehee. “taehee would want something that goes well with her outfit. she mostly wears monotone or beige colors,” naeun points out.
“ahh naeun, you know me so well,” taehee cooes, and clearly, her eyes were in the shape of hearts. seeing as the she got ignored, yeri drops her mouth open feigning offense. “why didn’t you give me a reaction like that?” she whines, “i knew you before naeun!!!”
“she’s just really interested in naeun,” doyeon hums casually, making the other girls laugh as taehee stood up from her seat. “HEY!!! that’s making me sound like a bad friend and i’m not.”
“are you really?” yeri continues to tease her, causing the said girl to whine and hug her in embarrassment.
blackpink
they’ve met and exchanged numbers in a music show early in their debuts.
she’s the closest with rosé and lisa since their age gap is quite smaller compared to jennie and jisoo.
there have been fancams of taehee watching blackpink perform and once jisoo was on the monitor, we’d see taehee mutter, “ahh she’s really pretty.”
taehee visits blackpink’s table once every award show, and jennie would be so attentive and welcoming of her — fixing her hair, being genuinely interested in what she’s saying, and laughing at her jokes. she was seen clinging onto taehee’s waist at some point, jennie adores taehee :(
taehee’s og aussie buddy is rosé !!!! they talk and eat together a lot, mostly about australia. taehee mentioned her in a radio show talking about the time they both cried in a public restaurant, “we were talking about home and then rosé unnie just started talking about her parents and suddenly i’m tearing up and then she’s tearing up and so we ended up crying while we ate pasta,” she laughed.
lisa thinks of taehee as her little brother. she’s just as energetic as her and taehee’s jokes are what lisa finds so funny. she would join in on a few of rosé and taehee’s hangouts and take lots and lots of pictures of them (and jokingly get mad if one of the girls don’t give her credit when they post on instagram).
iconic moment (200718 rosé instagram live) “you are so hot, rosé,” taehee reads from the comments, making it a sound a little sexy for the effect, the latter widening her eyes at the implication. “how ‘bout me? how ‘bout me?” lisa cuts in, “guys. how ‘bout me?”
“i’m the hottest okay? i’m the hottest,” she presses, rosé repeating what she said in breathy laughter. meanwhile, taehee was looking at lisa with the most sincere eyes she could muster just to tease her, “you are,” she emphasized, “the hottest.”
rosé laughs for the nth time that day as she clutches her stomach before questioning the youngest’s words, “ya, are you a two-timer?”
“no, i just have the prettiest girls beside me.”
ateez’s wooyoung and txt’s yeonjun
more of taehee’s ‘99 liner friends !!!!
taehee met wooyoung when she bumped into ateez in a convenience store near music bank. the leader of ateez greeted her first and a few of the members who were with him became acquainted with taehee, but wooyoung became the closest to her !!!!
(ateez boatta cover dance) “HEY JEON TAEHEE LOOK!!!!” wooyoung shouted before dancing ‘kick it’.
taehee covered ‘say my name’ and ‘answer’ in two of her dance vlives.
then wooyoung introduced yeonjun to taehee when the latter guested as an mc for inkigayo.
(191115 vlive) “oh i really like this song (run away by txt), i listen to this before going to bed sometimes. i’m actually friends with one of the members, yeonjun. ateez’s wooyoung introduced us while i mc’d as a special guest for inkigayo and we exchanged numbers. i really like their songs, especially the vibe.”
taehee is known to be very open with her friendships with other idols, so fans were quite okay with seeing her hang out with the two, her manager trailing a few feet behind them.
iconic moment (191115 vlive) taehee’s laugh trails off once she saw a notification pop-up on her phone. unlocking her phone, she snorts once she checked the message. she proceeds to show the meme to the camera while covering the top part of her phone, “ateez’s wooyoung sent this to our gc with txt’s yeonjun.”
“aha!! d’you guys know? when i send stuff to the gc, sometimes they leave me on read or reply ‘....’ just to tease me,” she rolls her eyes playfully, “but i’m glad we’re comfortable enough to tease each other.”
itzy’s yuna
taehee wanted to make friends to go out of her shell more, and she thought asking her manager to get yuna’s number was the first step.
taehee’s like Really fond of yuna ,,, and she’s glad they got along well real quick so she took her out to eat.
earlier in the year, when superm was touring, yuna sang a snippet of taehee’s solo song and tried to dance all the points of the choreo she could remember.
the fans have yet to see more interactions (or crumbs) from these two — noticing how their age gap is just a year longer than taehee’s and jisung’s, midzyzens would LOVE to see taehee baby yuna :(
iconic moment (200922 yuna instagram live) “nct’s taehee video called me awhile ago. we’re good friends,” yuna shyly giggles in front of the camera. “it’s been a long time since we last talked to each other so she called me, and then told me how much she loved our new album. she told me she really likes ‘not shy’, but she loves ‘be in love’ the most,” she explains further, adding how the nct member loved it because of her ‘killing me, killing me’ verse.
“taehee unnie is very good to me,” she cutely smiles. “she’s very genuine with her words and she’s really supportive. i hope for us to eat again and become closer in the future.”
#s.taehee#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct u#wayv#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct blurbs#nct drabbles#nct au#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct angst#nct female member#nct female addition#kpop female addition#kpop female idol#twice chaeyoung#stray kids jisung#red velvet yeri#april naeun#weki meki doyeon#blackpink#ateez wooyoung#txt yeonjun#itzy yuna
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Random Resident Evil Headcanons 2
Because the response to my first HC post was quite good, here's a couple more. Thanks for the feedback on my previous HC post, I appreciate it. So, again, three headcanons for three characters. Open to requests.
Nikolai Zinoviev for @thoughtfulzombienerd Thanks for the request!
- Nikolai keeps chickens as pets, mainly because they lay eggs, and Nikolai is pretty pleased to get free eggs. When asked about it, he says; "chickens? They give me free food! And when I get sick of them, I can eat the chickens, too!" However, he has not yet eaten any of his chickens, because secretly, he's kind of attached to them. He'll never admit to it, though, not even to himself.
- According to Nikolai, he never has enough money, so he plays cards regularly. It's a hobby of his, and one he's gotten quite good at. The fact that he earn some cash is of course, a very nice bonus. He once played cards with Carlos when they were still training for the UBCS, and ended up making fun of them for weeks after he completely destroyed them in a game of poker.
- Another hobby of Nikolai is taking good care of himself. He takes pride in his good looks and enjoys going to the gym to work on his stamina and strength. He's also into martial arts, both because of the jobs he takes on, but also because he takes pleasure learning some new moves every once in a while.
Moving on...
- The merchant from Resi 4 is still alive. He travels the world, specifically looking for outbreaks, and will set up shop there to help anyone who wants to buy something from him. This includes the bad guys. Blue flames still indicate he's ready to do business with you. He was in China, but sadly his shop was located in a location most RE6 characters never accessed, so sadly, he didn't get to meet Leon again.
Oh, and the big backpack Barry is wearing in Resi Revelations 2?Bought it from the merchant.
- His name is unknown, but he is originally from Australia. He was living in the village of RE4 because in Australia, he'd been sentenced to prison for illegally selling firearms, and fled to Spain (come on, it's Spain, okay) to hide from Australian authorities. He opted for the little village because he figured it'd be hard to hide from European authorities over there, who might also be looking for him. Sadly for him, Saddler happened. - He has a plaga. Courtesy of Saddler, of course. He appears to be immune to being controlled however, and while the plaga has had its effects on him in the form of aging him quicker, it doesn't cause him too many problems. As to why he managed to not get killed by Saddler or other organizations that might be interested in him? Let's just say the man is a master of stealth.
And another one of one of my favourite RE4 characters. I’m still sad they killed him off, he had a lot of potential.
- Luis Sera developed a fascination with biology early on in life, and after leaving the village to go out and experience the real world, his fascination only grew stronger, as he was suddenly exposed to things he had never seen before. While Luis had always been an intelligent child and teenager, his real talents weren’t discovered until he attended university, where he obtained a degree in biology without having to actually make an effort. His main interests were microbiology and biomedical engineering, though in his spare time, he was also interested in marine biology. That was just a hobby, though.
- Luis and his family weren’t very close, as they were mainly interested in living a peaceful, quiet life, while Luis himself had always felt the strong urge to learn more about the planet he lived on and the people he shared it with, rather than being stuck in that village forever. The only good relationship he had was with his grandfather, who had been a hunter. The reason Luis was so capable with a gun was because his grandfather had taught him how to use it. It’s his favourite childhood memory.
- Luis was verbally very strong. His friends in uni would pick arguments and start debates with him all the time, but they never managed to win one, as Luis always had his facts straight. If needed, he could easily switch sides and play the devil’s advocate. This trait of his made it so that a lot of people really liked him, but a lot of people were also easily intimidated by him. That doesn’t mean he was a dick, though. He just really enjoyed a good debate, and never quite understood why so many people took those debates as a personal attack.
There you go, three headcanons for three different characters. If you liked them, feel free to let me know. If you have a 'three HC' request for other characters, drop them in my askbox. Thanks for reading.
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19 - The Dynamic Duo V Montreux
Hello folks. I was sitting around twiddling my thumbs and I thought I would give the old hard drive a clean up, so before I dump a load of rubbish I thought I'd better answer these before I throw everything in the recycle bin. Let's start with a lady from New Jersey who goes by the name of Dorothy who gave me a very interesting offer for the next time I'm in New York. If you're reading this Dorothy, could you send Jacky your email address so I can reply to you. I've just opened up a "secret" Hotmail account so I can send replies without pestering the lovely Mrs Smith all the time, and to test it I went to the guestbook and picked a few names at random. Maybe I should reply to the irate drummer, but if I do that he'll just reply to me and the girls in the office will miss out on laughing at him as well. Staying with the skin bashers for a mo, Ron Hansen in Madison is a drummer, and said he liked my jokes and reckons Mr Irate uses three sticks, two in his hands and one up his arse (his words not mine). Would I be correct in saying your a Zep fan Ron? Today's question is, "What do you get if you cross a drummer with a roadie?" The answer is a stupid roadie.
Moving on, last time around I mentioned a drink which we consumed in Brazil, and the charming Sonia and Dina informed me it was called Caipirinha, and a pleasant little tipple it was to. Somewhere in Australia there is a lady called Karen who is listening to the Offspring CD non-stop, so I'm gonna have to try and answer her question as she has such great musical tastes, even though she wants to know the..........(flashing lights, fireworks, drum roll) Hoover Salesman Story. ARGHHHH. Its actually a very short tale, and I think it's quiet boring but it seems to have grown in stature over the years, and as always I'm gonna drag it out and start from the first skiing expedition that I ventured on with RT.
Having checked my trendy little biog mag, I reckon the year is 1980, and the dynamic duo are in Montreux putting the finishing touches to Fun in Space and we have a few days off before a tour starts in Zurich when Rog says, "Let's go skiing." He had skied a few times before and was ok at it, but I had never put a pair of skis on in my life. I said, "Lets go, but you ski and I'll just get pissed." He then went on about what a buzz it is and how I would love it, etc. As we were touring soon our American crew had to fly out, so I called up Jim Devenney and told him to come over a couple of days earlier cause we were gonna ski. Jim is a great skier and was on the first flight available and I picked him up at Geneva airport ready for some fun. That night we hit the town and have too many drinks and Rog goes off to bed semi early, while Jim and myself sat out on the jetty of Duckingham Palace with a ghetto blaster, Derek and Clive tapes, and a vat of wine singing disgusting songs at full blast, which must have echoed over to France. Suddenly we hear a French voice screaming at us and we have no idea what he was saying so we carried on goofing around, and the next thing I hear is a huge splash as Devenney falls in.
Let me assure you that a drunk trying to get a drunk out of Lake Geneva is not an easy task, but we succeed and head back to DP and retire to our rooms. I'd just got into bed when I hear a crash and go to investigate, only to find JD had gone in the wrong room and was trying to get into a baby's cot, and getting him out of there was harder than getting him of the lake.
Next day Roger, Dave Richards, his wife Collette, Jim and myself set off to Zermatt, and on arrival we stock up on skis, passes and other skiing paraphernalia (big words now!) Dinner, drinks and off to bed. Next morning we're up and ready to go, and thinking I'll never ski again after this I refuse to waste money on a ski suit, so I wear jeans. My second wrong move, the first was agreeing to go. The hotel owner wouldn't let us leave the hotel without first drinking a couple of Sambuccas, not my idea of a good breakfast, eggs, bacon, tea, toast and Italian liqueurs, but who are we to refuse. Next I've got to try and walk in those godamn boots, and we eventually arrive at the top of the Matterhorn.
The OK skiers, RT and Dave set off on their own, Collette begins a very slow trip down while JD tells me he'll stay and teach me. On go the skis, and down I go, flat on my arse. Up I get and I'm off, for all of about 2ft before I'm down again. This is not any fun. After a couple more tumbles my great mate Jim said, "If you're gonna f*** around I'm going." And thats the last I saw of him all day. Thanks pal. I'm standing there watching people ski and think, "It can't be that hard. If you stand like this, lean like that, you can ski." So I stand and lean in the correct positions and I'm away, screeching down a mountain with only one very small problem, I have no idea how to turn or stop, so as I'm flying past Collette, and she reckons I looked very worried, I yelled for some advice and all she said was, "DIVE." Sound advice, so thats what I do, and by now I'm getting wet. I wait for her and then we set off together, the blind leading the blind, with me diving at the slightest bit of speed or bend in the piste. A million years later we eventually reach the bottom of this awful slope and it's finally over. Wrong. Theres a T-bar to get on so we wait in line till it's our turn. You're supposed to put the bar just under your bum and it drags you up, but I'm 6ft and Collettes about 5ft 5in, so the bar was either in the middle of her back or around my knees, and no one told me not to sit on the f***ing thing and we bounced around for a while until we fell off. I'm now getting really pissed off with all this, "Get me a helicopter," I demanded from Collete. She told me they don't just send them, you have to be hurt. I replied with, "I'll break my f***ing arm but I've gotta get off this mountain." Realising I'm not getting a copter I light a ciggie and ponder.
We agree to split up and go with someone our own height, so I ended up with a great German guy who was really helpful. Once on the T-bar I can see that it goes way up and I would have to ski back down to base camp, and in case you've forgotten, I can't ski, so I said that I was gonna bail out, and jumped off. I then head of in a straight line to the cable car, skis on the shoulder and wading through 3ft of snow in a pair of very heavy and very cold jeans. What seemed like hours of wading I make civilisation and head to the bar for a triple strength coffee and a triple scotch while everyone gawked at me cause I looked like I had a shower fully clothed. Yeah, I wanna do this again.
Dinner that night was great fun for the others cause they got to take the piss out of me. Their day will come. The rest of the nights activities shall remain sealed away, but a good time was had by one and all. The tour went smoothly and I try and put Zermatt behind me, except Collette, still to this day, takes great delight in telling everyone about it, and everytime she says it she makes me look more and more pathetic.
The next winter appears and I'm at home and the phone rings, "CT, wanna go skiing?" To which my reply was nothing like, "Oh I'd love to you fabulous little drummer boy." I can't believe he talked me into it again, but this time we were gonna do things correctly and go to Aviemore in Scotland and take lessons, this was the saving factor in his plan. So once again we pile into the Range Rover and aim north. We split the driving (for a change) and had a good journey up through the snow covered mountains till we get to the resort. A usual night was on the cards, dinner, drinks and bed, then up bright and early for some lessons and a good day on the slopes. This time we've both got the correct outfits so we head off to where our little group of idiot skiers are. We're all standing in a line, with Rog and me at the end, and each person gets to snow-plough a few feet. These clowns have less idea than my first try, and it's also incredibly cold and we've now got icicles hanging off our hair. It's our turn and we both look like olympic champions, but the only thing wrong with getting it right the first time is that the instructor then turns his attentions back to the start of the line. Here I am once again standing on the top of a mountain, freezing cold with two 'things' stuck on the end of a pair of stupid boots, and I inform His Royal Highness that the next trip away involves sand and sun, no excuses, end of argument. RT agreed that this wasn't much fun and thought my idea worth considering.
We finally heard the two magic words, "Lunch Break." We're gone in search of some good HOT food and a nice beaujolais, and we found both. We also found that the hotel bar had an amazing selection of whisky, and we had to try as many as possible. We're now semi pissed and decide that as we're warm we might as well go back to this lesson even though we are very late, and the instructor looked at us and said, "Where have you two been?" Rog came back with "Trying lots of your wonderful scotch's." He was fine with that answer and we carried on trying to learn something, and would you believe by the end of the day I could actually turn and stop.
Back to the hotel for a nap before dinner. Over a very nice meal and a couple of little drinkettes we agree that it's far to cold here and we'll clear off the next day, so into the bar we go with our earlier mission of trying all the scotch's. We were sitting at a table chatting away and cracking jokes with each other and end up talking to the couple on the next table, swapping skiing stories, needless to say mine were very short, and having a bit of a laugh, when the woman said, "What do you two do for a living?" God knows why, but I said; "We're Hoover salesmen." At first they didn't believe us but we both started going on about the difference between domestic and industrial cleaners, uprights, backpack types, ones you pull along the floor. We went on about the different wattage, suction power, the amount of pressure on Axminsters and Wilton carpets, even a couple of car expressions like overhead this and thats. What the hell do we know about vacuum cleaners? But boy are we good at this. After about 30 mins of utter bullshit the subject finally changed and they wished us all the best with our door to door salesmanship and off they went to bed. We then had to reassure each other what we actually did for a living, had some more drinks and tried to work out how we knew so much about cleaners as both of us have spent most of our lives trying to stay well away from them. We spent the drive back to London having a good laugh about the one day we spent in a Scottish ski resort.
Well that's it folks, the story of a small company, R & C Taylor,..... Hoover Salesmen. I did learn to ski quite well, and whilst in Gstadd doing the Shove it album Spike flew out cause he fancied learning to ski, and the fool asked me to teach him. I wasn't much help because everytime he fell over I burst out laughing cause I kept seeing myself in Zermatt, and Spike looked just as worried and stupid as I did.
Before I go I noticed that Jacky had to get her boiler fixed and said for me not to make a comment, but little things like that spark me off and I remembered that when we were recording in the Townhouse Studios I had a little, no a big affair with the studio chef. Every three months Virgin would do a magazine for all their staff, written by all the heads of various departments, airlines, studios, video, shops, films, etc. and they would say what was going on with their particular section. Alan Douglas, who was chief engineer of all Virgin studios wrote who was recording where, and he wrote, "Queen are in studio 4, and Crystal, their main man is stoking the kitchen boiler." I thought that was hilarious, but Jane went ballistic. That's it for now.
Loadsa luv Crystal (Carpet cleaner to the stars)
#oh i suppose i forgot to queue this!#queen#queen band#roger taylor#roger meddows taylor#spike edney#crystal taylor#crystal's tales
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“The Spooky House”
Oh my goodness, do I have something for this. I’m going to cheat a bit, this was not my experience but my dad’s and what he has experienced in his life regarding this is far more interesting than mine.
So strap yourselves in, cause it’s going to be a long one and let me tell you about his old farm house, aka The Spooky House.
Now for context, my dad grew up on dairy farms with his parents, who worked for a guy who owned multiple farms. So they would hop around to different farms and manage them so to speak. Also, we live in Australia.
Anyway, while my dad was in his late teens to early 20s, they lived in this house that eventually became known as The Spooky House to him and his parents and this what they experienced while living there.
The House was known to have a very foreboding feeling to it. Like something was always ‘off’ and you couldn’t put your finger on it. Floor was made out of old wood that had little notches in it and nan (dad’s Mum) put little stoppers in them to fill the holes. A lot of the time they would wake up in the morning and find that all of the stoppers were pushed up, from underneath the house. Dad said they had these giant ass hippie beads hanging in the doorways. So big and heavy that it would have to be a big gust of wind to move them. He lost count how many times he would get up early for work or such and find them swaying. Like someone walked through them but when he checked the bedrooms, everyone was asleep.
I remember dad telling me that it slowly got worse over time. Like the house didn’t want them there or something.
At one point nan contacted a psychic to see if they could make it better or calm it down. Well, the psychic wouldn’t even get out of her car and come up the driveway. Absolutely refused to come inside the house. Nan was left flabbergasted and asked what she could do. The psychic told her to move house and drove off.
Dad said not long after that these ‘things’ would start stalking the house. To this day he has no idea what they were, and he doesn’t really want to know. Nan would come out in the morning, find that the grass was pressed down or trampled around the house. Especially where the windows are. Her peg basket on the clothes line would be ripped to shreds and bits of it spread around. Dad said she would get the shits cause she had to keep buying new ones haha. It started to get more serious when dad would be woken up by scratching at his window, on the outside. He was always to scared to look back at it, cause he KNEW whatever it was was staring right back at him while scratching the window. They would check at morning to find that the paint had been scratched off the house at around human height and grass flattened. At one point while his dad was out working a few paddocks over, nan came in and woke dad up and together they huddled in his bedroom, waiting for daylight as the thing stalked around the outside of the house. Speaking of, it stalked dad once too. He was walking from the house to his dad, a few paddocks over to help with the cows. About 4am-ish. It was a cold and there was frost on the grass. As dad was walking he could hear a ‘crunch’ ‘crunch’ coming behind him. So he stopped and it stopped to. Dad was like ‘huh’ and started walking again, and so did it. Again dad stopped and it stopped. Now starting to get freaked out, dad starting to pick up the pace and he stopped agin. Only this time it didn’t stop, but started to come right at dad. Dad fucking bolted. Ran over 2 paddocks and cleared the fences. Didn’t stop till he reached his dad’s side.
Whenever dad’s parents left for a couple of days and he had the place to himself, dad would host massive parties with his friends. They had the run of the house and could sleep wherever they wanted. But all of them always end up huddling up in one room when they went to sleep. One time it was just dad and his cousin over, they played a game of pool and drank. At one point around midnight, the both of them were sitting around and heavily drink. A dark figure appeared and said “Go to bed” dad said he was pissed drunk and thought ‘eh, why the hell not’ and they went to bed. The next morning they woke up to find the game of pool that was left unfinished put away and his cousin asked, who that person was that was standing over their beds watching them sleeping. But dad didn’t remember that part.
Anyway, there’s more to that house that I can tell but this is getting to be a very long post haha sorry about that. I will say though that dad and his parents moved out and someone else eventually moved in. Not long after that, the house burned down. Dad didn’t know what caused the fire, but he was sure as fuck happy about it!
If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them if I can.
source: https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/j73inz/what_was_your_paranormal_experience/g833s63/?utm_source=reddit&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
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Why are you so sad about Harry, though? He's happy and healthy and safe and in love and living with his wife and their child. It kinda seems like he and Meghan are in a state of 'I'm doing better than I ever was', to quote Taylor Swift. And they still get snapped by the paps every now and then so it's not like you can't see them anymore. I don't really get what's to mourn in this situation, idk.
I'm sad about Harry because I fell in love with the Prince and now I'm left with an HRH turned glorified influencer, living in Montecito and speaking on things he doesn't understand and trashing his family and his country and running to the press he claims to hate every other week and admitting to being too ashamed to getting his suicidal wife help and lying/stretching the truth/exaggerating about stuff and... yeah. I could go on. I'm really sad about the way it's happened - I'm sad he was so sad and desperate enough to claw his way out of the only home and life he's ever known, I'm sad Meghan was feeling the way she was, I'm sad that Harry clearly never got the help he needed, I'm sad that Meghan couldn't either, I'm sad that he had to worry about Meghan and Archie, I'm sad that they suffered, I'm sad that the press wore them down to the point of clawing their way out in the ugliest way possible, I'm scared that they're not safe in California, I'm sad that he's turned out to be as petulant and impatient and impulsive that everyone has always warned me he was. I'm just so fucking sad about the whole thing. It's over, it will never, ever be the same, and a year and a half later, I'm just so fucking heartbroken. I miss Sentebale Harry, Invictus Harry, and he will never come back. Instead, we're left with anti-first-amendment Harry, therapy-on-live-TV Harry, I-hate-my-father Harry, they-forced-me-to-go-on-tour-against-my-will Harry and I just hate it. I hate how it is now, and I hate that I took for granted the way it was back then, because it's gone, and it will never, ever, ever be the same again.
He's still doing good in the world, and he's happy and feeling safe, and he's comfortable in his new life with his family in California, and I'm always happy that he's happy, no matter what happens. But I loved the People's Prince, the patron, the HRH part of "just Harry," the guy who let little kids scratch his beard, shared popcorn in the stands of Invictus, charmed little old ladies in Australia, bared his kind, genuine, sweet soul for the world in every single engagement/tour/interview he gave. Who could even forget him waking up early to catch the sunrise in Nepal? Pretending to beat Usain Bolt in a race? Playing polo with his brother? Charming Daphne Dunne?
I love Harry the person, but Harry the Prince is what drew me in to begin with. I'm not interested in celebrity - I'm interested in what makes royal different from celebrities. Harry's no different anymore, and I hate it. I miss the genuine spark, the charm that made Harry different than any other royal I'd ever seen - back then, his brother and sister-in-law included. He was just everything when it was good, and it's a lot to lose and mourn when it's gone. When you care about someone the way I've cared about Harry all these years, losing it in one fell swoop out of the blue one random day in January is a lot to stomach. I never thought it'd go away, you know? I always thought Harry the Prince would die with Harry the person sometime in, idk, 2086. I never thought I'd have to live in a world where Harry the Prince is gone and Harry the celebrity, Harry the person - a different person than the Harry I thought he was - isn't. I don't do things halfway, never have. I know this all sounds ridiculous, but I mean every word of it. I'm still mourning what it was and what it would have continued to be, if this didn't happen. It hurts. Still. Make fun of me all you want, I don't care. It hurts.
I'm mourning the thousands of solo and joint engagements we lost, the tours, even a Jubilee tour next year, the official photos (we never got an updated BRF photo, and now we never will, because Philip is gone and I guarantee you we will never see H/M/A/BS in one ever again; imagine a cousins/spouses/kids photo?), Christmas cards, 60 years of Christmas walks, the trademark BRF ceremony with a sprinkling of Harry spark, the interactions with the public who used to adore him, the interactions with his family, new initiatives, Trooping the Colour, ceremonial military engagements, HRH Prince Archie of Sussex, HRH Princess Sussex, official coronation photos, taking on more patronages and causes, the future William/Meghan, Kate/Harry, William/Harry, and Kate/Meghan engagements we could have had, grandparent Charles and Camilla with all of the Wales grandkids, polo with the cousins, Archie/Lena/Louis growing up together... what isn't there to mourn? Yes, they're doing good in the world, and I have no doubt they're doing better than they ever have, but it's not the same. Again, it never will be. That's what I'm mourning.
This has turned into an essay, and I know a lot of you won't like what I had to say. But I miss Prince Harry, and I can't imagine there will ever be a time that I don't. So yeah, I'm mourning Prince Harry, the now-shattered illusion of the version of him that used to exist. Again, I can't imagine there will ever be a time that I don't.
#ask#anonymous#queue#catching up whoops#prince harry#duke of sussex#this made me sad to write#i miss my harry
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hello dear hazel, how can i resist a prompt list? well i can't. how about “Not the best with words, but I’m told I’m great with a hug.” for malum? -taylor<3
@squishmichael taylor! i hope you like this
warnings for a health scare of a family member
malum: "Not the best with words, but I'm told I'm great with a hug."
Tour is amazing. There's nothing any of them enjoy more than visiting dozens of cities, meeting thousands of people, hearing their songs echo back at them over and over and over. It's the easiest and best part of the job, even if the bunks are small and every performance is exhausting.
Of course, tour can be hard, too. It can be difficult to always be on the road, leaving home and pets and loved ones behind. They all have plenty of experience with that by now, but it was especially difficult in the early years, back before they were used to the constant ache that comes from being halfway across the world from their families. Now that they live in LA, visits to their families are few and far between, but tour will never stop highlighting those feelings, especially when something is wrong.
Calum walked out of the hotel room on the phone with his dad ten minutes ago. He hadn't been expecting a phone call, and Michael saw the way that his face changed after the initial greeting, smile fading and worry lines appearing in his brow. Michael knows Calum well enough to know that something is wrong, and he spends the next ten minutes staring blankly at movie on TV, wondering if he should go find him or if Calum will come back into the room when he's done. It probably depends on what the cause of the call was and how much Calum needs comfort. Based on the immediate shift in his expression, he's going to need Michael.
Michael's mind runs wild with bad ideas and worst-case scenarios that could have happened to any members of the Hood family back in Australia right up until Calum re-enters the room, carefully closing the door behind him and pausing before he turns and faces Michael.
His smile is watery, his eyes rimmed with red.
"What's up?" Michael asks lightly. "What did your dad say?"
Calum takes a shaky breath.
"Mum had a heart attack. She's fine, but..." he trails off and sniffs, breaking Michael's gaze. "Sorry, I just-- I mean, she's my mum. And she's fine now, but what if she wasn't? I haven't seen her in over a year. I don't know what the last thing I said to her was. I think I tell her I love her at the end of every phone call, but what if I forgot last time? And what if that had been the last time I spoke to her? She's not even that old! I always thought she'd be a grandma by the time she died, but Mali isn't ready for kids, and I'm definitely not ready, and I'm not ready to live without her."
"Hey," Michael tries to sooth, crossing the room, rubbing a hand up and down Calum's back. "It's okay. She's fine, and your mum is really strong. She's not going to let a little something like a heart attack take her out."
"But what if it does someday?"
"Calum..." Michael tries desperately, but he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He doesn't know how to help Calum when he's this upset, especially when there's logic to it. If Michael was in his place, he'd be pretty upset, too. He'd probably be crying. It's impressive that Calum isn't, even though he's close.
"Come on," Michael says, holding open his arms.
"What?" Calum asks.
"Not the best with words, but I'm told I'm great with a hug. Bring it in."
Calum rolls his eyes, but he accepts the hug easily. Calum is one of Michael's favorite people to hug, simply because they fit together really well. Michael's arms can easily encircle his waist and Calum is the right height to tuck his face into the crook of Michael's neck. He runs warmer than Michael does, heating him up with the way they're pressed together the whole length of their bodies, but he doesn't typically clutch Michael's shoulders this tightly, and Michael hears him sniffle. He rubs Calum's back again, attempting to calm him down more, but soon he feels dampness by his shoulder.
"Sorry," Calum sobs, still hiding his face.
"It's fine," Michael says. "Cry all you want. It's scary. I get it."
Calum nods against him and the floodgates open.
Michael stands there the entire time, being a port in this storm that Calum is weathering, keeping himself steady while Calum works through all the emotions that go with almost hearing that his mum died while he was halfway around the world. Calum gets ahold of himself relatively quickly, and after only a few minutes he's pulling away and swiping at his eyes.
"Sorry," he apologizes again.
"Cal, it's fine, I promise," Michael says. "You're allowed to be upset. I'm upset. Do you want to go home during our break?"
Calum nods. Thankfully they only have one more show before it.
"Okay," he says. "I'll get everything settled. Why don't you go lay down? I think there's a station showing some Star Wars movies."
Calum nods again, making a pit stop by the fridge for some water before settling onto the bed, picking up the remote and flipping channels. Michael watches him out of the corner of his eye, hoping that Calum doesn't sense him hovering, but he doesn't give any indication one way or the other.
He seems a little shaken, but that's understandable. Seeing his family in a few days will help, and hopefully Michael can ease his mind a little for tonight. He pulls out his phone and sends a few quick texts: one to Luke and Ashton to let them know what's happening, one to their manager to keep them in the loop about their plans to go to Australia, and one to his own parents to tell them that he loves them. Then he gets out his laptop, searches for available flights, and buys two tickets.
"Mike," Calum says from the bed.
"Yeah?" he asks, closing the computer once he's sure the transaction has gone through.
"It's Episode V. Your favorite."
Michael smiles and joins Calum on the bed, pressed against him like they're sharing one of the bunks on the bus instead of a queen in a hotel room. He brings an arm over Calum's shoulders, tucking him into his side, and kisses his hair. Calum hums but doesn't say anything, turning his attention back to the movie. They stay like that through all the badly-timed commercial breaks and Han getting frozen in carbonite, and sometime between the opening scroll of Episode VI and Jabba's palace Calum grows heavy against him, breaths evening out and eyelids fluttering closed. Michael stays as still as he can, loathe to disturb him now, and follows him to sleep before the final credits.
#my writing#malum#drabble#i love malum so much i really do#this felt fitting after our convo about malum fics today#also i should finish one of my longer malum fics i have open on my computer right now#although tbh taylor i don't think you'll like either of them#i think that they're tropes you put under the 'don't really enjoy' section of your fic exchange form#but! it will be more malum out in the world which is always a good thing
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1.19
warnings: This story contains content that could be problematic for one or the other. Among other things, the story may contain content about sex, rape, late pregnancy, relationship with a large age difference, and others. Just because it's in the warnings doesn't mean these topics will appear, but they will definitely be covered in the story. The content of the story is fixed and doesn’t change. If you don't feel comfortable with these topics, then it's okay if you don't read the story. I just write down my ideas here and I just enjoy writing about life. The fact that some things in life are not rational or weird for some people is also part of it.
Miga was sitting in the break room learning her script when Hyunjin came in. She wrote to him to come because she wanted to tell him about Jaemin. Sunoh was right, she wasn't being fair to him and she had to clear things. "Hey," he said softly and sat down next to her. He looked at her with his big dark eyes and he looked so cute. "Hey." Miga could hardly look at him, she felt so much guilt. "You wanted to talk to me?" He smiled and Miga had more and more trouble starting, but that only made it clearer that she had made a mistake with Jaemin. She chose the wrong one, even if her heart still beat for Jaemin too. "Hyunjin I... I made a mistake ..." And she told him the whole thing. Hyunjin listened to her, he didn’t said one word and slowly she could see his smile fade. "I know I said I would wait, but it's...hard...." Hyunjun ran a hand through his hair and tried to collect his thoughts. "Hyunjin ... I'm so sorry ..." She starts to cry because she saw that she had hurt him. How could she be like that? How could she do this to him? Why did she only see that now? "When I said that I would wait, there was nothing between us. But we always have little dates, you stayed over night at the dorm and .... shit Miga .... I thought at this point that we...our relationship...getting more serious." He sighed and could hardly get a clear thought. His heart was broken. The thought that she had almost slept with someone else made him believe that she didn't feel anything for him after all. "Miga, I have to think about it. I have to ..." He looks back and forth, confused, until he finally got up and left the room. Miga cried and cried. She knew she was fucked up. Only she was to blame for this situation. She didn't deserve Hyunjin, he was too good for her. She realized how ruthless she was, how selfish she was. And now she had the result, she was about to lose both of them. She just played with fire for too long.
"What will you do know?" Asked Kyungja, a friend from her class. Miga shrugged and took a sip of her cocktail. A few days had passed and Miga had withdrawn the last few days. She didn't do anything but work and cry. But Kyungja pulled her out and wanted to bring her back to life a bit. "I don’t know. I think I deserve it all." "Can you finally say who the older guy was now that it's all over anyway?" "I don't want to cause trouble to anyone. It’s so complicated." Miga could hardly look at Kyungja. "But I'm worried, you've been so sad for the past few weeks." Kyungja was worried about her friend, but Dae joined them at the table. She finally finished training and joined her friends. "Heyyyy!" Miga got up immediately and hugged her. "I didn't think you were coming anymore," said Kyungja and hugged her too. "Yes, if my manager allows it, I'll use it right away. When I have my debut, it won't be that easy anyway." Dae sat down with the two girls and looked at the menu. "We'll miss you already," said Kyungja and laughed. "And? How long have the guys been looking at you two?", Dae then asked and nodded her head to the table further back. So far the girls haven't even noticed. "That's because you're there," said Miga, smiling gently. Dae was beautiful, she was also called the young Karina from Aespa. "You know this is nonsense"; Dae said then and Kyungja rolled her eyes. "They probably just want to talk to Miga...it’s always the same." And at that moment one of the boys got up and went straight to the table of the two. Dae and Kyungja looked at each other and already knew what was going to happen. "Hey, my friend over there is celebrating his birthday. He just moved here from Australia and doesn't know a lot of people here yet." "He knows you. Don't you know any Koreans?" Dae crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm just a guest here. I didn't know this was going to be a sausage party." The guy went straight to defense and took a step back. The girls looked at each other uncertainly and said nothing. "So?" Asked the guy. The girls nodded to each other and packed their bags. "If you're assholes, we're gone," Kyungja said at once. "We are nice," he said, grinning. He then turned and gave the boys a thumbs up. "That's what they all say," Dae whispered to Kyungja and rolled her eyes. The girls went to the table and Miga saw someone who immediately caught her eye. He was wearing a black shirt that was unbuttoned to the chest. Tattoos were visible across his chest and collarbone. He also had tattoos on the back of his hand. His hair was deep black, as if he had never dyed it before. And his eyes immediately fell on Miga. He got up and immediately shook hands with her. "Hi, I'm Ian," he said and looked Miga deep in the eyes. "It was clear that the hot guy was going to her right away," whispered Kyungja in Dae's ear. "Hi, I'm Miga," she said carefully and everyone sat down again. One of the guys looked at her too, but more as if he was trying to classify her appearance, as if he had seen her at some point. "Next to me is Yeonseok, he owns a gallery. The guy who brought you is called Jiwoong, he's a student and then we have Taesuk, he's a photographer." Ian smiled and the boys grinned too. "And what are you doing?", Miga then asked him. "I want to open a tattoo shop here," he said and smiled. "What are you doing?", He then asked and Miga had to pause for a moment and think. Should she tell him that she is a famous drama actress? Apparently no one here should know her and she found that refreshing. "I'm studying theater," she lied and smiled. This also automatically made her older. Since Jaemin's rejection, she had severe problems with her age and Ian looked older too. "That's cool," he grinned and looked deep into her eyes. "And which birthday are you celebrating?" She asked curiously. She didn't really want to ask because he was clearly older than her. Not like Jaemin, but a couple of years anyway. "I turned 28 today." He smiled and his gaze was only more on her. Miga smiled uncertainly and didn't admit that she was only 19 years old.
The evening went really well and fun. People drank, laughed, told stories and had a lot of fun. But at some point it was time to go home. Miga was really really drunk in the end. "Okay, let's go now. Miga, you come with me." Dae wants to take her to the dorm. "Hey Miga, can I have your number?", asked Ian and smiled. "Hyunjin ...", Miga slurred and suddenly she looked very fragile. Dae looked uncertainly at Kyungja and didn't quite know what was happening. "Hyunjin? Is that your boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend?" Asked Ian and Miga shook her head. "I think we're going now, come on." Dae supported her friend and took her out of the bar. She put Miga in the taxi and the two drove off. "Wow, Ian looked really good," Dae said then, giggling. "That guy was hot," slurred Miga drunk and leaned against her friend's shoulder. "But why did you asked for Hyunjin?" she asked then. "I screwed it up." Miga gave a deep sigh and picked up her phone. She wrote something and Dae want to take it away. "What are you doing?." "I screwed it up. I feel so bad. I treated him badly because I almost slept with the older man..." Miga kept typing something on her phone, but Dae took the phone away from her. "You did what? That means you had your first time ...?" "No ... we haven't. I'm still ... you know ..." Dae was confused now. She knew her friend and knew that she hardly talked about their relationships, but Miga has been suffering a lot lately. She also looked more confused and confused than usual. "Oh okay." "I'm stupid, I just screwed up with Hyunjin ..." "No, you're just blind and running after the old man." "It's so embarrassing." "Now tell me, what happend with the old guy?" "I was with him and we just did foreplay things. We both had a drink, but we were pretty ..." From now on Miga began to whisper. "... horny. And he cum pretty early then. We left it then and the next day we wanted to ... I panic and said I had never done it before and then he panicked. He threw me out, he blocked me and what he is talking to me is only on set. " "Ouch," said Dae. "You said it." "Then what about Hyunjin?" "Hyunjin is so cute and sweet. I thought I had to be honest with him, after all, we made out for a while and it was really nice with him too. I really like him and I thought I had to speak plainly. I told him the thing and he said that he couldn't handle it and that he had to think about it. But he's ignoring me ever since." "You can't blame him for it." "I know...I'm the ass this time in this story." "Yes, you really are," said Dae and laughed. Miga said nothing and just stared out the window. She regretted so many things and missed Hyunjin. Why was she just so stupid and naive?
When the taxi arrived, Dae wanted to pay everything, but then she saw someone rush out of the building. It was one of the other trainees, after all, they all lived in the same apartment complex. Dae couldn't make out who it was at first, but the guy recognized her. "Dae!" When he got closer, she recognized him immediately. It was Hyunjin. "Oh hi, what are you doing outside so late?" Dae grinned and since she was quite drunk, she didn't notice how panicked Hyunjin was. "Do you know where Miga is?" He looked at her worried and Dae didn't quite understand. Miga had just told her that he didn't want to see her anymore. "Why do you want to know that?" Dae shook her head and Hyunjin sighed. "She wrote me strange messages and now she no longer answers her phone. I can't reach her. Were you out together?" Hyunjin was out of breath, he could barely get a clear thought. "Oops ..." Dae pulled Miga's phone out of her pocket as she had taken it away from her. "I took it away from her so she wouldn't write to you." Dae laughed, but Hyunjin grew impatient. "Dae, where is Miga?" "Who is screaming so loud here?" Miga got out of the taxi and the car drove off. "Oh, we didn't pay anything," said Dae and laughed again. "I paid, everything is fine." Miga swayed and barely made it over the curb, but Hyunjin caught her. "Hyunjin ..." She looked at him puzzled and propped herself up against him to get up again. "Shit, how much did you drink?" He helped her over the curb and led her to the entrance. "So much that she only called your name on the hot guy," Dae exposed her friend and laughed. She was clearly having the most fun. "Hyunjin ...", Miga mumbled and could barely walk straight. "Just like that!" Dae pointed to her friend and laughed. Hyunjin didn't quite know what to say. He didn't know whether to be happy because somehow he was worried. He pressed the elevator button and waited. He held Miga tightly in his arms, who could barely stand. Hyunjin held her to keep her from collapsing. And when the elevator came the three of them went in. Dae didn't live on the same floor and when she got out because Hyunjin lived upstairs, he held the door open. "Hey, what about Miga? I thought she was sleeping at your dorm?," he called after her, but Dae waved him off. Miga didn't notice any of this, she hung there half unconscious and could fall asleep any second. "Why do you drink so much?" He asked softly and brushed the hair from her face and when he got to his floor, he carried her into his dorm.
providentia masterlist
daddy jaehyun masterlist
#daddy jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jaehyun#providentia#hyunjin#nct#nct 127#miga#nct u#nct 2020#jaehyun scenario#jaehyun angst
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The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 1
Summary: Adelaide Park meets Henry Cavill for the first time and she is obviously very nervous.
Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)
Wordcount: 3.5k
A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, just let me know. And please let me know what you guys think. I’d love to hear your thoughts about it 😘
Masterlist // Introduction // Next chapter
I’ve never been to Italy before. Actually, before I was a renowned actress, I never came outside of LA. Growing up, my parents never had the money to go to a different city, let alone other countries. My vacations were spend solely in our small one room apartment back in Los Angeles by myself.
My parents were never rich. My dad worked long hours in a factory every single day, but earning just enough money to pay the rent and for me and mom to eat. One night, I saw him scraping the packages or our plats clean, so he had something to eat as well. After I saw that, I never ate all the food off my plate, because I realized that my dad was working the hardest, but was eating the least.
It always broke my heart to see both of them struggle. My mom used to be a cleaning lady, but after she got fired, she became a live-in nanny, which basically meant that from my sixth birthday, she was barely home anymore and I had to raise myself.
Hours on end I was alone. Back in school I barely had any friends—correction: I had no friends at all—and when I came home from school, I’d sit outside to do my homework, because dad didn’t have enough money to get a second set of keys.
I never complained about it, because I knew they were trying and I learned all too well from that one time when I asked for a Barbie doll back when I was five and I kept crying about it, because other kids had Barbie dolls and I was the only one who didn’t. My mom got so mad, that she grabbed my empty plate and threw it against the wall, while she was screaming something about how ungrateful I was. Mom never got mad, she was always admirably calm and collected, even when life got in the way like it did with us. Seeing her like this, meant she was serious and I never said anything about something like that anymore. I never asked for anything, at all.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I am so thankful for everything they taught me and did for me. It may have been a hard time, but every year for my birthday, they gave me something. It was always something I really needed, but I always appreciated how they went out of their way for me, wondering how many meals they skipped for this present.
It all became worse when I finished high school at the age of nineteen. I was older than everyone else, since I read so slowly and didn’t even understand it most of the time, causing me to get behind on many classes over the course of the years. Besides, our school wasn’t known for having the best results overall, so the fact that I didn’t score well, meant I was blending in with the rest.
I was working in a diner, because I wasn’t smart enough at all for a scholarship, when my mom got in a terrible accident, when she walked back home and she was hit by a car who ran through a red light. She was paralyzed from her waist down and besides the high hospital bills, she also needed psychical therapy, something that unfortunately isn’t free.
With what my dad and I were earning together, we couldn’t even pay two percent of those costs. I was thinking about putting myself up on a sugar daddy website, but I know I couldn’t lie to them, when I would come back with a lot of money. Besides, my dad was always very strict about what mom and I could and couldn’t do to make money and sugar daddies were off limits. He told me multiple times—even after mom’s accident—that we had nothing to worry about. That he would take care of it.
But I had something to worry about, because my father wasn’t getting any younger. He had been working too hard for too long and all he wanted, was staying with his wife, who he still loved so so much, despite everything they had gone through. I took up more shifts at the diner, only slowly coming to terms that, even with the tips I was receiving, it was never enough to cover the bills.
In about two months, my mom would be discharged from the facility, if we hadn’t paid at least something significant.
One day, I was walking back home from work, when I saw a huge billboard, with a message that a studio was looking for someone to star in one of the biggest sitcoms of that time: Remembering High School. Apparently, one of the new main characters (who was an adult) was having a flashback from when they were in high school—the main premise of the show. And that character happened to be an Asian lady.
I went in and decided I would try it out. I mean, I had no acting experience and solely did it to earn some money, but being Asian American was apparently enough and that was the beginning of my acting career.
At first the amounts of money I made were not enough to cover the medical costs, but it was enough to delay further payment and my mom could stay in the facility.
For years I had difficulty with reading, let alone reading out loud, with an audience, but somehow on the set, I could forget about that. I could finally be someone I really wanted to be. For a few moments I could forget all the sorrows and worries I had resting on my shoulders.
The first five weeks, I’d combine my new acting career with my job in the diner, but after awhile I became a recurring character and for a whole year, I was part of the cast. I remember walking into my mom’s room, showing both her and my dad the first episode I was going to star in. ‘I’m from Minnesota,’ was my first line and the beginning of a very promising career.
My parents were so proud of me. My dad didn’t even care about the money I made at first, because he was so happy that I was doing something that from the looks of it, I actually enjoyed.
Over the years, I’ve come to love acting, but no one knows I do it because of my family. Actually no one knew about my family situation and since I have zero friends, even in the industry (because I barely talk about my personal life and I never budge, even when the try to pry information about it. My co-stars are acquaintances, almost like neighbors: you know one another, but you don’t know them), no one is aware that every penny I earn, goes directly to my family.
Nowadays I make millions, but I’m mainly spending it on my mom, but also on other people who are paralyzed and need psychical therapy, but were in the same boat as my family and my parents met over time in the facility. Money doesn’t mean a lot to me and these people can use it a lot better than I can.
Besides, my parents worked so hard for me growing up, this is the only way for me to pay them back. Despite not having any money themselves, nor stuff, they always taught me to share, to make sure that other people are well taken care off.
The flight from Japan to Italy moved along pretty quick, but maybe that’s because I was traveling first class. My latest movie took place in Japan and though I loved it there, I really want to see what Italy is like, after spending eight months in a lousy hotel in Japan.
After becoming an actress, I went to a lot of great places for shooting movies. I went to Suriname, Canada, Spain, Australia and this time it was Japan. I’m so blessed that I get to travel, knowing really well that other people are still struggling with what I used to struggle with. Sometimes I donate the earnings of a movie to movements that catch my eye, that help kids in certain areas of California with their school work, and with access of clothes and food. I always donate anonymously, not wanting to seem like a philanthropist who is doing this solely for her own image.
I always think that if you really care about something, you would do it without earning praises.
Participating on ‘The Celebrity Project’ wasn’t something I would normally do, but when they reached out to me, I was actually delighted that I was going to be part of this. Maybe I could finally show the world that I’m not as stupid as I appear in interviews.
Being a loner, a slow reader and probably has multiple learning disabilities (if I actually got tested, but the tests were too expensive and no one at school seemed to care and I’m actually too embarrassed to get myself tested now I’m a twenty-five year old), I often come off as an airhead and it’s my own fault really. I do give them enough stupid material to go on about that accusation.
However, I’m really nervous. I mean, I’m going to work together with Henry Cavill. He is charming and sounds so intelligent. When I was done filming and back at my hotel room, I’d watch his interviews, because I wanted to know what I was going to work with. The way he is so articulate and he obviously knows what he is doing, makes me feel even worse about myself. I’m a total disaster and already a burden to him I presume.
I’m sitting in a taxi, waiting for traffic to calm down a bit. It’s early in the mornings and thankfully I got to make myself a bit more presentable in the plane already. I notice the tiny camera’s being strategically placed in the car. It really begun, I think to myself. I’m part of a reality show now. ‘How are you feeling, miss Park?’ the taxi driver asks. ‘I recently heard about this program.’
‘I’m a bit nervous,’ I say, wondering whether or not he is payed to to talk to me about this. I rummage through my purse, hoping I can find my lip balm.
‘Are you looking forward to work with Henry Cavill?’
That name alone makes me nearly make me shit my pants already. ‘Yeah, he seems like a nice man, so I really look forward to work with him.’ And I sure as hell hope that I won’t let him down.
The drive to the hotel is about an hour, but it feels like time is going by a whole lot faster. The chauffeur talks about his family and how his wife is actually a fan of my movies and has watched every single one of them. I took a few pictures with him and signed the inside of the cracker box, because that was all he got with him for me to write something on.
After I said goodbye to him, I’m told that I should go to room 346. With my suitcases with me, I step into the elevator, a cameraman close by. They told me that at one point, these cameramen would just be invisible to me, but I highly doubt it. They are only with us during the assignments. In the cars and at the place where we’re staying, the camera’s are hidden.
When I’m in front of the door, I take a deep breath.
I can do this I think to myself. I have starred alongside other talented people. My first real role was playing Keanu Reeves’ daughter, I was Angela Bassett’s assistant and I also had some pretty steamy scenes with David Castañeda, after his Umbrella Academy days. I can handle being around Henry Cavill, right? I knock on the door three times and I open it a bit, peeking my head around the door.
I can conclude that I’m severely underdressed. I’m wearing a simply jean short, white crop top with some lace on the borders and socks with the same lace details as my top, paired with white sneakers.
I look like a slob, compared to Henry, who seems like he stepped out of a Disney movie. His white blouse, off-white pants and those loafers. The only thing that is missing, is his yacht with the name Serenity.
A smile creeps up on my face, as I step into the room, rolling my pink suitcases with me, because he actually looks approachable.
‘Hi there,’ he says with a small smile on his face. He walks up to me, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Henry, nice to meet you.’
I can’t help but blush. He is so charming and his accent makes him so posh. I place my hand in his and it almost disappears. Not to be that girl, but my size kink is activated right here and now. ‘Adelaide,’ I say. ‘Uhm, it’s nice to meet you… Too.’
I curse my tongue.
‘How was your flight?’ he asks, as he gestures to the couch for us to sit on.
I take place right next to him and I feel like a child sitting next to her dad. Why is he so massive? ‘It was okay. Yours?’
‘It flew by.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Was that… a pun?’
Henry chuckles nervously. ‘Maybe, I’m sorry.’
I look around me. The hotel room seems okay, but I bet we’re not going to stay here for long. I stare at the silver tray in front of us, with a set of keys and an envelope with our names on it.
Henry takes the envelope from the tray and holds it in front of me. ‘You want to read it?’
I shake my head. ‘No, you go.’ The whole idea of reading out loud without practice, makes me want to vomit. Before the table reads, I use this program that will read everything for me, even using the right intonation. I stay up for way too many hours for that, because once I’ve heard it, I made notes, I can better read it.
Back when I was doing ‘Remembering High School’ I had the woman who played the adult version of me read it to me, because I had to portray the young her and keep her character in mind. Since she was an established character on the show, she had certain ways of saying things I had to copy. She never knew the real reason I wanted her to read it out loud for me.
He cocks an eyebrow, but then opens the envelope. He clears his throat, before a dramatic reading of our first assignment rolls out of his mouth. How can he make a simple note sound so… Sensual, almost? His deep and dark voice, making it sound way more intense than it actually is. I wouldn’t mind if he read my scripts out loud for me.
‘Dear Adelaide and Henry, the adventure of ‘The Celebrity Project’ has officially started,’ he says, tilting the card a little, so I can read a little bit with him. It’s a nice gesture really and I appreciate the thought. ‘We have provided you with a nice car, to drive to the little cottage, specially arranged for the two of you. Tomorrow will be a nice day for you to relax (because you two are both severely jet lagged we presume) and the day after that, you’ll be expected for your first assignment. Enjoy the car ride and remember: look out of your window every now and then. We are aware that Henry is really handsome, Adelaide and you’ll be forced to only look at him, but nature can be beautiful too.’
I scrunch up my nose. That last sentence seemed so forced and this is exactly the reason why I don’t like these types of survival, borderline reality shows. It’s not reality. It’s this forced setting, hoping to get people to believe that this is how real life should look like.
And I don’t like deceiving people like that. I almost regret participating.
‘Right, well, we might as well just go,’ he says, his tone flat, maybe just as annoyed with that last sentence as I am. Probably even more so.
◎ ◎ ◎
Why is there a pink carseat in the passengers seat? I mean, I’m not the tallest, but I’m definitely not that tiny. I look around us, only to see no member of the crew around. This is great. I want to take the seat out, because I don’t want to sit on it, but it’s securely fastened and only with a different set of keys, I can undo it.
And of course I don’t have that.
I really regret being here.
However, I still sit on the carseat, because I don’t want to sit in the back because I’ll get carsick and when I see Henry’s cocked eyebrows and a poorly hidden smirk, I simply say: ‘Don’t.’
Okay, maybe I do understand why they put me on a carseat, because this man looks so enormous and otherwise I’m simply non existent. He starts the car and simply drives off. I don’t know whether or not I should say something to him, because I feel like we should talk. I mean, that’s why the camera’s are here right?
‘What is your newest movie about?’ Henry asks.
‘About a woman escaping from her past and she moves to Japan, when one day an old friend becomes her new manager,’ I say.
‘Romantic comedy?’
‘Of course.’
He nods. ‘You don’t get tired of doing those?’ he asks.
Yes, I do get a bit tired of them, but there are two things: for starters, just like those romance books (that I would buy my mom one for her birthday every year, because I knew how much she loved those), romantic comedies sell really good. And no one wants me for something else. I feel like directors don’t trust me with big roles, like Rose in Titanic or someone else major. Besides, I’m Asian American, when was the last time one of us got a major part in a movie that’s not a romantic comedy?
But I don’t want to seem ungrateful and it’s a nice stream of money coming in every time and that’s basically all I want.
‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s okay. You shot something new… new movie… Right?’ For fuck sake, Adelaide, you were doing so well.
‘I did, actually,’ he says. ‘It’s something I’m very excited for. It’s more of a dramatical part.’ I listen to Henry, as he is talking about this movie. How he plays a single dad, trying to figure out this parenting part with his daughter, when his brother and sister-in-law pass away and he has to take in four monsters of boys in his house. The way he talks about this, I notice a shimmer in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologizes. ‘I let myself go there for a second. It’s just I’m really excited about this movie.’
‘No, I get it,’ I say, as I look out of the window. I let out a deep sigh, as we drive over the sandy roads. Before I can say something else (as if I knew what), Henry hits the break and like the cliches in the movies, he holds out his arm in front of me, as the car comes to a halt.
There are four dogs and one owner on the road and the man screams something in Italian to us. Clearly we were supposed to stop for him. ‘Shit, sorry,’ Henry mumbles, as if the man could hear that.
His warm hand dropped to my bare thigh and with my pointer finger I tap him on the back of his hand. ‘Excuse me,’ I say.
‘Oh no, terrible sorry,’ he says quickly, retracting his hand. ‘What do you think the cottage will look like?’ Henry asks, when he pulled up again, not driving as fast as he did before.
Shrugging I play with my water bottle. ‘I don’t know, but I think I know one thing.’
It takes me a while before I can get the words out of my mouth, but Henry doesn’t force me to say anything, by asking something like: ‘Care to let me in?’ He actually lets me find the words and it feels nice not to be rushed into saying something.
‘I bet there is one bed that is large and comfortable. However, there is also one uncomfortable couch, too small for you. So people want to see whether or not you are a… gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch.’
‘You think?’ he asks frowning. ‘A bit far fetched, don’t you think?’
When we arrive at the tiny cottage, we walk inside. It’s nice decorated, warm colors mixed with nice hints of different pastel colors. My eye falls on the very uncomfortable looking couch that is pretty tiny if Henry is supposed to be sprawled out on that, but we don’t know what the rest looks like.
After a small tour through the house, we have come to the conclusion that there is indeed only one bed. I look over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Henry’s. ‘See?’
Taglist: @thelastsock // @jolly-polly // @henrythickcavill // @maan24 // @diegos-butt / @agniavateira //
#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill#henry cavill x oc#henry cavill fanfic#the alluring charm of henry cavill#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x actress#henry cavill x adelaide park
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A Magical Melody
This was written for the amazing @adenei for the HPRomione Discord Secret Santa 2020. If you’re not following her, you are missing out on some excellent Romione content.
Also on FF.n
Summary: Ron gets an education on Muggle music as he and Hermione visit her home and share some tender moments after the war.
Ron's loud footsteps echoed in the kitchen as he barrelled down the stairs of The Burrow, breaking the quiet peace.
"Morning, Mum."
Molly was busy at the stove, preparing breakfast for the Weasley clan. She greeted her youngest son as he strode toward the table.
He slid into the chair next to Hermione and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, both of them blushing under Molly's gaze. She was watching them wistfully, before turning back to a pan of fried eggs.
"Morning, love."
Hermione grinned at him, slowly getting used to the terms of endearment he seemed so fond of using. "Good morning."
He dropped his head onto her shoulder and snuggled close before letting out a wide yawn.
"How did you sleep?"
"Good, until I woke up and you weren't—"
She kicked him under the table, shutting him up. The fact that she'd been sneaking into his room at night to fall asleep in his arms was not something she wanted Mrs. Weasley to hear about.
"Sorry," he murmured in her ear, causing a pleasurable shiver to run through her body. She loved that they could be so close now, after denying themselves for so long.
His volume increased significantly. "How did you sleep in Ginny's room?"
She tutted under her breath, but played along with his charade nonetheless. "I was fine; no nightmares."
"Good. Why are you up so early? I thought I finally convinced you that sleeping in was good for you."
She paused for a moment, running her fingers up and down the teacup in front of her.
"What is it?"
"I've been thinking..."
"That's not a surprise."
Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately and continued on.
"Ever since your Dad and Bill finished checking my parents' home for curses and traps last week, it's been on my mind. What state is the house in? Should I do something about it or wait?"
"You usually don't wait for anything... except maybe me," he quipped.
"I know, I hate just sitting here, knowing there is something to be done," she fretted, completely ignoring the rest of his comment. "I even rang the energy company from the village, when I went with Ginny and your mum the other day, and everything should be reconnected by now."
Ron scrunched his eyes in deep thought. "Electricity, right?"
Hermione nodded. "What if... what if we go to my house today? See how things are? We're still waiting for the paperwork to go to Australia, and it would be nice for them to have a home to come back to." Her voice dropped to a strained whisper. "If we find them."
Ron ran his large hand gently up and down her back, the warmth through her thin shirt soothing her as he leaned forward. "We'll find them, I promise. I think visiting your house, now that it's safe, is a brilliant idea. I've always wanted to see where you grew up."
She turned her head in surprise, throwing him slightly off balance. "Really?"
He sat up and nodded, before looking down and picking at the wooden tabletop to avoid eye contact. "It was always one of those things I wondered about, but if I told you, I was scared you'd realize how much time I spent I thinking about you."
Her face softened at such a sweet, honest admission. It wasn't the first time he'd surprised her with the depth of his feelings in the short time they'd been dating. Before she could reply, Mrs. Weasley let out a sniffle and dabbed her eyes with her apron, before hustling over and placing two plates in front of them, stopping to ruffle Ron's hair.
"Geroff, Mum!" His complaint was half-hearted, causing Hermione to giggle.
"I'm just so happy for the two of you! Now, tuck in."
Ron rolled his eyes, but reached for Hermione's hand under the table, their fingers linking together. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.
~*~
A quiet pop, barely noticeable in the late Spring afternoon, signalled the arrival of the couple in a posh suburb. Arriving in a small tree-lined area, they emerged onto the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.
Ron shook his head, slightly disoriented from the Side-Along. They thought it was the safest way to go, since he wasn't familiar with the area where Hermione lived. His eyes widened as he took in the houses they were walking past. "Wow, these places are really fancy."
"Dentists tend to do quite well financially, so my parents bought our home in a nice location, both to live in and as a sensible investment. Their goal was to sell it when they were older and retire to the coast."
Ron nodded, still looking around in awe.
"Look, there it is!"
He directed his attention to the neat, two-storey brick home. It wasn't the largest on the block, but certainly not the smallest. It seemed quite grand and spacious for a family of three.
As they reached the front door, Hermione paused and let out a shaky breath. Ron placed his hands on her shoulders, coaxing her to face him.
"You did the right thing."
She took a moment and nodded, her body still trembling. "It just feels surreal to be back here, now that everything is over."
"From what Bill said, it seems like the Death Eaters realized it was abandoned and didn't cause much damage. I think he and Dad set most of it right already."
She nodded, and pulled out a key from her pocket.
He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and turned the knob. She peered into the dark, a beam of sunlight highlighting the dust in the air. Overcome by sudden emotion, Hermione's eyes welled up, remembering the times she had spent there with her family. Her missing family.
A second later, her nose was pressed into the softly worn cotton of Ron's shirt as he comforted her.
"You are amazing." The deep timbre of his voice was muffled by her hair. "What you did to protect them took so much, and it'll be over with soon. We're going to find them and bring them home."
She gripped him harder, tears soaking into the cloth. She hadn't realized how much her actions had cost her. How big of a weight it had been on her soul.
"I couldn't do this without you," she said into his shirt.
"I'm here for you, no matter what happens."
She wiped her eyes, before pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Thank you."
Letting out a deep, far calmer breath, Hermione turned to the doorway.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
She stepped in and flipped the familiar switch on the wall. The light in the entrance hummed to life as she surveyed her home for the first time in a year.
"Wicked!"
Ron's enthusiasm seemed to shake her out of her thoughts as she shuffled aside and let him in, locking the door behind him.
He looked around in wonder, taking it all in. She in turn was watching him, a small smile playing across her lips. He spied her expression and grinned back. "So this is it, huh? The famous Granger residence."
"I don't know how famous it is, but it's home."
Ron was fascinated. "Everything is so neat and tidy, and the walls are so straight, unlike The Burrow. It does seem much more welcoming than Harry's Aunt and Uncle's. I think that's the only other Muggle home I've ever been to."
She too glanced around. She hadn't realized how much she missed the place she grew up.
"The rest of our things aren't even out yet. I shrunk the valuables and concealed them in the attic."
The lights started flickering, causing Hermione to jump. It was then she noticed her boyfriend, flicking the switch on and off rapidly.
"Ron, what are you doing?"
"Lights on, lights off. This is fun! You should try it."
She grabbed his hand, stilling it. "You can play later. We have work to do first."
Ron groaned, his head flopping back in protest. "We don't have to clean the Muggle way, do we? I still have nightmares about Grimmauld Place."
She playfully poked him in the side, causing him to flinch. "No, we'll use magic this time. We can get the cleaning done quickly, then we can start rearranging the furniture and putting things back in the cupboards."
He kissed the top of her head, before making a sweeping gesture. "Lead the way."
The two set about cleaning the empty house, the thin layer of dust coating the surfaces quickly removed. Hermione opened the curtains and windows, letting in the fresh breeze. With the aid of magic, it only took them a short amount of time to get the main areas of the first floor looking like new.
Hermione was just finishing the kitchen cabinets as Ron stopped to examine some of the appliances.
"I really should have taken Muggle Studies," he remarked as he took a closer look at the electric kettle. "Some of this stuff is interesting. I can see why Dad is so obsessed."
"Your Dad's interest in Muggle gadgets is quite unique amongst magical people, isn't it?"
"It's completely barmy."
"No more than obsessing over books or Quidditch."
He shrugged. "I guess everyone has their interests."
Hermione suddenly gasped and raced to the stairs leading to the second floor. "Wait here."
Her footsteps thumped around above him for a few minutes, until she finally reappeared and descended the stairs, her face flushed.
"What have you got there?" Ron asked as she reached him. In her hand were a number of tiny brown cubes.
"You'll see, come with me." She grabbed his hand, their fingers locking automatically, and practically pulled him to a small room at the back of the house. "This is Dad's den."
The empty built-ins were the perfect place for floor-to-ceiling books. "Your own personal library. No wonder you're so excited."
She chuckled and shook her head, before gently placing the small cubes on the floor.
"Stand back."
With a quick wave of her wand, the cubes expanded into a large pile of assorted boxes. "It's my Dad's collection. Instead of gadgets, music is his passion."
She gleefully opened the first box to find it full of cardboard sleeves. She extracted one and pulled out the thin black disc from inside to show Ron.
"These are records. They aren't as popular anymore, but a lot of purists love them. The music is imprinted in these grooves here."
"Ooh!" She said, shoving the record back into its sleeve and handing it to Ron. "Let me show you these."
Hermione moved a few boxes and found the one she was looking for. The inside revealed piles of small plastic rectangles.
"What am I looking at?"
"These are called cassettes, or tapes," she explained as she opened the case and removed the cassette, pointing out the spools inside. "The tape within contains the music. And last but not least—"
"There's more?"
"Yes!" She opened a third box and pulled out a jewel case. "These are called compact discs, or CDs."
Ron's head was spinning now as she passed him the silver disc. He held the CD in his hands, watching as it caught the light and revealed a rainbow of colours across its surface. "So why does music come in all of these different containers?"
"You'll find that Muggles are creative and adaptable to new technologies. We're constantly inventing and refining how we do things. Innovation moves much faster here than in the Wizarding world."
Ron nodded, gesturing to the records and cassettes. "So all of these have been made in the last few years?"
"Records were more popular in the 1960s and 70s, cassettes in the 80s, and CDs in the 90s. When I was here for Christmas the year before last, my dad had a new computer. He was showing me that digital music can now be downloaded as MP3 files. He thinks it's the future of music."
All Ron could do was shake his head in disbelief. "I don't understand half of what you just said, but I'll take your word for it."
He watched in fascination as she opened more boxes and stacked a number of large rectangular devices on the shelves, then untangled a spool of wires.
Ron was peering at the electronics. "I think my Dad has some of this stuff in his shed!"
"These actually play the music." She pointed out the different devices to him. "This is a turntable, it plays the records, and this is a stereo with both a cassette player and a CD player."
She directed him to lift up the large speakers and place them in the corners of the room.
"What are you doing now?"
"I'm connecting the speakers so that we can hear the music. Think of these as boxes with a Sonorous charm on them."
He watched as she deftly ran the wiring and plugged everything in.
Her eyes were alight with excitement to share this with him. "What shall we listen to first?"
Ron shrugged. "Whatever doesn't sound like the rubbish Mum listens to."
"No, of course not. Muggle music has much more variety. There are so many genres: pop, rock, classical, country, hip hop. Luckily, my Dad has very diverse tastes."
"You're taking the mickey! There's no music called hip hop! Is it made by rabbits?"
She snorted. "It's completely true. I think it's more popular in America."
She started flipping through the records, trying to find something that might appeal to Ron. "Oh, this should work! The Weird Sisters were inspired by this type of music, so it should be familiar."
Ron shrugged. "I never really paid that much attention to them before."
"Surely you've heard Ginny playing their music. They played the entire Yule Ball!"
He suddenly looked pained, his mouth a thin line as he quietly responded. "Like I said, I haven't paid much attention."
Noting his tenseness, she turned back to the audio equipment. "Well, let's see what you think about this."
She fiddled with the knobs on the turntable, before pulling out the record. With a light scratch of the needle arm, the familiar static sound of a record playing filled the room.
Hermione suddenly stomped her feet and clapped in time with the loud music.
Ron clutched at his chest, broken out of his stupor. "Bloody hell!"
She grabbed his hand, her excitement contagious as he reluctantly joined in the pattern. A man's excited voice sang and Ron couldn't help bobbing his head. Hermione was smiling widely watching him.
As the music swelled, she cried out the familiar lyrics. "We will, we will rock you!"
Ron's deep voice hesitantly joined hers as their combined singing echoed off the walls. Once the song came to an end, Ron couldn't help but express his admiration, his mood lifted.
"That was brilliant!"
"See, I told you Muggles had good music. That was a rock band called Queen. I believe that song is quite popular at sporting events."
Ron's eyes lit up. "Imagine a whole Quidditch stadium doing that!"
"That would certainly be a sight. What next?"
As the two continued unboxing and organizing the rather large collection of music, Hermione took the opportunity to play a variety of different songs, just to introduce Ron to some of the genres she enjoyed.
"Dad always had music playing, and I must admit, I did miss it at Hogwarts. The few times I was here, he always had something new to listen to."
Ron was digging through a box, looking at the various CD covers when he let out a gasp.
"What is this?"
She spotted the familiar case in his hands, her face blanching in horror. "No, no, no!"
She launched herself at him, but Ron was quicker, holding the case higher than she could reach. She tried to jump up, but was unable to knock it out of his hands.
"Give that back!" She pouted over his laughter.
"I will, once I've examined it."
Hermione crossed her arms, and shot him a look that would make most people quaver.
Ron read the cover, which had been decorated with a number of hand-written hearts. "Take That?"
"They happen to be a very popular group."
Ron wrinkled his nose as he looked at the five blokes on the cover, all dressed in white. "So which poncy git did you fancy back then?"
She smirked at him, her chin jutting out. "The one I still fancy is Gary Barlow."
"Pfft! Come off it."
"Alright, fine. I did find someone better to fancy soon after that."
"Wait, who?"
She shook her head, before swatting him with the rag in her hand. "You!"
"Bloody right."
She thought she heard him mutter the word "wankers" under his breath as he tossed the case back into the box and continued his explorations.
They took their time, putting everything back by hand to enjoy the afternoon together. Hermione was an encyclopedia of musical knowledge, having learned from her father.
She would sing bits and pieces of songs as they worked, her tone slightly off-key, but it made Ron smile.
As they finished up and vanished all the empty boxes, Hermione turned to him. "What did you like best?"
He thought for a moment, scanning the now full shelves. "Definitely the rock music. I liked that Queen group, and that other one. Lead Zuplin?"
"Led Zeppelin."
"Yeah, them. The pop music was alright, so was the hip hop. I liked the... what did you call it again? Catchy beats? I didn't like the country music much."
She smiled proudly. "Look at you, you're a real expert now!"
"My Dad will be so excited."
"I wanted to play one more song, but I'm not sure if you'll like it."
"Go on then."
Hermione pulled a well-worn record from the shelf and placed it on the turntable. A strong feminine voice filled the room over a slow, romantic melody.
"At last... My love has come along."
She closed her eyes at the familiar sound, picturing the times she'd spent in the room.
"I love this song. It's one of Mum's favourites. We would sit in here on Sunday afternoons, reading, while Dad would organize his collection and play whatever latest albums he purchased."
A loud, obvious clearing of Ron's throat broke her out of her memories. Her eyes opened to find her boyfriend with his hand out, his ears blazing red.
"Didn't get the chance to do this properly last time," he mumbled before he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "May I have a dance with the prettiest girl here?"
She nodded enthusiastically, her hand clasping his before he pulled her close. She sighed as she nestled against his chest, the two of them swaying together.
She was burrowed in his arms, his warmth enveloping her. The strains of melody echoed around as the two of them danced in a sweet embrace.
"I found a thrill to press my cheek to... A thrill that I have never known."
She never thought she would one day dance with Ron Weasley in her father's den. It was like a dream come true.
Hermione sang into his shirt, her words muffled. "Oh, yeah, yeah, and you smile, you smile... Oh, and then the spell was cast."
She looked up and their eyes met again, drawn together like magnets.
"I always loved that line."
"This music does have a kind of magic to it."
"Mmm, it does."
The two of them slowly spun, holding onto each other as if they would fly away, their eyes still locked. After a moment, Hermione laid her head on his chest and spoke up again.
"Would you really have called me pretty at your brother's wedding?"
He rumbled with laughter. "I'd been working up to it that entire month. Just didn't want to lose my chance with him there, so I panicked and didn't say what I had really wanted to say."
"You never had to worry about him."
"I know that now, but back then, I didn't think I was enough. And for the record, you were the prettiest girl there."
"You can be very sweet. And for the record, I didn't want to dance with anyone other than you, Ron. You have always been more than enough."
"You know, that was one of my favourite memories, dancing with you at Bill's wedding. I thought about it a lot this past year."
She squeezed him tightly, trying to convey how much his words meant to her. She too had replayed those moments over and over in her head, trying to remember what it was like to be so close to him. Nothing beat the real thing.
"Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that day?"
She stayed firmly pressed to him as they continued their slow dance. "I was really hoping you would."
"I would've done it, if not for the interruption."
She looked up to find him staring down at her, an unmistakable look of love on his face.
"Nothing's stopping you now."
He grinned broadly and leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers for a second before their lips met.
Though the music had faded out, the two held each other on their impromptu dance floor, lost in one another.
At last.
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On soil degradation and the use of non-native plants as weapons to change landscapes and sever cultural relationships to land; and on the dramatically under-reported but massive scale of anthropogenic environmental change wrought by early empires and “civilizations” in the Bronze Age, Iron Age, and ancient world (including the Fertile Crescent, Rome, and early China): I didn’t want to add to an already long post.
This is a Roman mosaic, from when Rome controlled Syria, depicting an elephant (presumably the Asian species, Elephas maximus) interacting with a tiger (the Caspian tiger, a distinct subspecies of tiger, lived in Mesopotamia, the shores of the Black Sea, and Anatolia up until the mid-1900s). This mosaic is striking to me, because I guess you could say that this is clear evidence of the higher biodiversity and more-dynamic ecology of the Fertile Crescent in the recent past, until expanding militarism and empire led to extensive devegetation. After all, does the popular consciousness really associate elephants and tigers with the modern-day eastern Mediterranean and Anatolia? Not really. But for the majority of human existence, lions, tigers, elephants, and cheetah were all living alongside each other in Mesopotamia. Pretty cool.
Anyway, I wanted to respond to this:
Which was in response to a thing I posted:
Pina: Thanks for the addition! I don’t know much about the technicality Rome’s devegetation of the Mediterranean periphery, but - like you - I’ve read some cool articles about it, and then forgotten to bookmark them. (I know that I have at least one good article in print form, about Roman devegetation; I’m going to try to find it.) I’m glad you mentioned it!
The first image is in the public domain and depicts a rhino-shaped ritual wine vessel made of bronze, from about 1100 to 1050 BC, during the Shang era. (The piece is housed at the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco.) The second image is another bronze wine vessel from a site in Shaanxi Province, this time inlaid with gold and hailing from later in history during the Western Han period, about 205 BC to 10 AD. (Photo by Wikimedia user Babel/Stone.) The rhinos in both of these pieces are depicted with two horns, meaning that they likely depict the Sumatran rhinoceros; this is corroborated by the existence of fossil remains of Sumatran rhinos from across China prior to 1000 AD.
On devegetation in the ancient world:
Yes, it feels like the ecological effects of empires prior to the Middle Ages are not just “under-discussed,” but dramatically overlooked. Some “quintessential and iconic African fauna” like lions and cheetahs lived throughout the Fertile Crescent, until devegetation during the late Bronze Age and, a few centuries later, the ascent of Rome. Caspian tigers (a distinct subspecies of tiger) also lived nearby, in Anatolia, the Caucasus, the shores of the Black Sea, and Persia - right up until the 20th century, in fact! (Other iconic species present on the periphery of ancient Mesopotamia were Asian elephants; leopards are still present.) Aside from the devegetation of the Fertile Crescent and the later landscape modifications of Rome, I also don’t see a lot of popular discussion (there is academic discussion, though, obviously) of ecological change in Zhou-era and early imperial China, either. While early Mesopotamia is famous for the amount of social prestige ascribed to irrigators and engineers, who were evidently essential to maintaining the domesticated crops so important to “hydraulic civilization,” early China (apparently) also revered irrigators and engineers. At least according to folklore and written histories, before the Han period, seasonal floods, especially in the Yangtze watershed, would regularly destroy human settlements. Also, there far more tigers, leopards, rhinos, and elephants present; rhinos and elephants lived as far north as the Yellow River until empire really expanded, and the animals lived as far north as the Yangtze River into the European Renaissance era. So, those people with the technical expertise to “tame the wilderness” by damming rivers or calming floodwaters were given prestige and sometimes treated as folk heroes. [Chinese history is not a subject that I really know a lot about. I’m just relaying the observations made in one of the better books on environmental history in East Asia, which is Mark Elvin’s The Retreat of the Elephants - 2006.]
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On empires’ use of soil degradation to “sever connections to land” and “indirectly” destroy alternative or resisting cultures:
Seems that empire uses ecological degradation to enact a “severing of relations” (in Zoe Todd’s words). Basically: If you destroy somebody’s gardens, then they have to come to you to buy food. Furthermore, destroying someone’s connection to land will also harm their cultural traditions rooted in that land, eliminating a threat to the imperial cultural hegemony and erasing “alternative possibilities and futures” from the collective imaginary. (And destroying the imagination doesn’t just harm the invaded cultures, it also prevents the relatively privileged people living in the metropole or imperial core from “achieving consciousness” or whatever, wherein someone living in 150 AD Rome or 1890s New York City might imagine an alternative system and potentially dismantle the empire from within.)
It’s violence; destroying soil, cutting forests, it’s violence. But when empires destroy soil, they get to maintain a little bit of plausible deniability: “Ohhh, it’s not like we outright killed anybody, we just accidentally degraded the soil and now you can’t grow your own food. Damn, guess you have to rely on our market now, which also means you have to assimilate/integrate into our culture.”
Europe, the US, and the World Bank did this in West Africa after “independence.” They said “oh, yea, sure, we’ll formally liberate you from colonial rule.” But since the palm and sugar plantations were already installed, and many of the ungulate herds of the savanna had already been killed, what were new West African nations supposed to do? Miraculously resurrect the complex web of microorganism lifeforms in the soil? So what the US and its proxies are essentially doing is saying: “If you want loans, you have to keep the plantations and also install supermarkets to sell Coca-Cola.”
Todd: “The Anthropocene as the extension and enactment of colonial logic systematically erases difference, by way of genocide and forced integration and through projects of climate change that imply the radical transformation of the biosphere. Colonialism, especially settler colonialism – which in the Americas simultaneously employed the twinned processes of dispossession and chattel slavery – was always about changing the land, transforming the earth itself, including the creatures, the plants, the soil composition and the atmosphere.” [Heather Davis and Zoe Todd. “On the Importance of a Date, or Decolonizing the Anthropocene.” ACME An International Journal for Critical Geographies. December 2017.]
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On the use of non-native plants as a sort of “biological weapon”:
The use of non-native plants and agriculture to enforce colonization and empire is the whole focus of this influential book from Alfred Crosby. (I have some issues/criticisms of some of his work/theories, but his work is generally interesting.) Crosby popularized the term “neo-Europes,” and he proposes that European empires attempted to subjugate the native ecology of landscapes in Turtle Island, Latin America, Australia, etc., while attempting to introduce European species, cattle ranches, pastures, dairy farms, gardens, etc. in an effort to “recreate” a European landscape.
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Speaking of Rome’s devegetation of the Mediterranean: One of the famous cases of Roman devegetation that made the rounds recently was that of silphium. A couple of excerpts:
[From: The Original Seed Pod That May Have Inspired the Heart Shape This historical botanical theory has its roots in ancient contraceptive practices.” Cara Giaimo for Atlas Obscure, 13 February 2017.]
Silphium, which once grew rampant in the ancient Greek city of Cyrene, in North Africa, was likely a type of giant fennel, with crunchy stalks and small clumps of yellow flowers. From its stem and roots, it emitted a pungent sap that Pliny the Elder called “among the most precious gifts presented to us by Nature.”
According to the numismatist T.V. Buttrey, exports of the plant and its resins made Cyrene the richest city on the continent at the time. It was so valuable, in fact, that Cyrenians began printing it on their money. Silver coins from the 6th century B.C. are imprinted with images of the plant’s stalk -- a thick column with flowers on top and leaves sticking out -- and its seed pods, which look pretty familiar:
[End of excerpt.]
Silphium is extinct now. There is a lot of conjecture about what, specifically, caused the extinction. But it looks like the expansion of Rome across the North African coast of the Mediterranean, and Rome’s development leading to soil degradation, is a likely cause.
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Thanks @pinabutterjam :3
The scale of ecological imperialism’s effects ... planetary, no escape. It’s exhausting.
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