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#Wet welsh weather
the-official-wales · 16 days
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RAIN RAIN RAIN pitter fucking patter drip by fucking drip you will slowly get fucking soaked and the soul will be leached from your cold, half drowned body
Rain is where you fucking came from and fucking rain is where you will return
WeLcOmE tO wAlEs
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lesbicosmos · 7 months
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so i did a campus tour at cardiff university today and took photos of a bunch of the buildings
i knew at least one of them was used to film the university the doctor works at in dw s10 so when i got back to the car i googled it
turns out it was the main building, which i got a photo of, but i'm lowkey freaked out that my photo is at EXACTLY THE SAME ANGLE AS ONE OF THE SHOTS IN THE EPISODE
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official-wales · 10 days
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reblog until every person in wales votes. shouldn't be too hard, there's like 6 of us*
*3.2 million
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schweizercomics · 1 year
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As of this week, I'm back from the Welsh mountains of Snowdonia, where my family and I went three weeks ago for a harp festival in which my daughter was participating. We spent most of our time in the castle city of Caernarfon, where the festival took place, and stayed across the street from a really big, really lovely old church at the base of Twthill, “Wales’s smallest mountain,” site of a Yorkist victory during the War of the Roses.
One of the days that we were there, I took a bus to nearby Bedgellert, ostensibly named for a noble but unjustly murdered 13th century dog, and set out to reach the top of Dinas Emrys, which lay outside the town and near a defunct Victorian copper mine (which I also crawled around in).
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(outside the mines, before I started walking)
I wandered through a lot of countryside, woods, and sheep farms. The standard Welsh joke is "Don't like the weather? Wait five minutes," and that was the case - ten minutes heavy wind and rain, ten minutes sunshine, off and on for about four hours.
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In the next pic, you can see the hillock of Dinas Emrys from before it crests upwards...
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...and here it is from the top. The tree sits just outside the tower ruins (the pit to its immediate left).
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I've never had such a beautiful walk to such a satisfying end. Not only was the peak gorgeous, but it also had the bonus of being a historical/mythical destination right up my alley.
The top of Dinas Emrys is where the oldest English/British histories (the 9th century Historia Brittonum and Geoffrey of Monmouth's famous History of British Kings* place the tower of Vortigern (and subsequently Ambrosius, in many versions the older brother and predecessor of Uther Pendragon), which in the legends had to be rebuilt numerous times because of the red and white Dragons that fought at the pool below it and which were taken by a (then young) Merlin as an omen for Welsh/Briton victory over eastern invaders.
*My pal Benito Cereno is currently translating Geoffrey's book from Latin, with some commentary, on his Patreon, and you can read his translation of the story here.
The sun was finally (consistently) shining by the time I got to the top, so I took off my shoes and socks to dry them, lit my pipe, set up my easel, and did some sketches of both the tower ruins and, once I climbed down to it, the hidden pool below.
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I was quite happy with the travel easel I'd built and carried for the last eight or nine miles, until the heavy wind took it off the side of the mountain and broke it. It's fixable, but not without tools that I didn't have in the mountains, so that was that.
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I haven't finished most of the Dinas Emrys sketches - like a lot of my travel stuff, I pencil (and sometimes ink), throw a couple of spots of color, and take photos to use as reference, so that I can do more pieces on a limited traveling schedule. But I'm looking forward to finishing the drawings of the pool especially - it felt like I was in a fairy tale down there, and I hope I can convey it (although the leafless, windswept [I think] hawthorn trees, reaching toward the pool like hands, aren't like any trees I've ever tried to draw before this trip, and trying to get them right is part of the reason I ain't yet done).
The trip back down was less idyllic, partially because going down over wet rocks is, while less strenuous than going up, more demanding of care and attention, so I had to watch my feet more than the surroundings, especially having taken a fall up by the ruins. But I'd count the trek as one of the genuine high points of my life. I was elated and in awe for hours at a stretch, and absolutely overcome with the beauty of it. And, while the rain might've been unpleasant and chilly at times, it meant that the sun fought through water and clouds to create the most incredible vistas, and the rain meant that the colors of the mosses and grasses were at their most vivid.
I'll have castle drawings down the line, too, and some others from around the harbor town, and I can't stress how much we enjoyed our time in Wales.
I did take a few days to go up to Leeds, do a signing at Traveling Man, and visit the  Royal Armouries a few times to do drawings. One of the folks who came to the signing, Dr. Tzouriadis, is a currator at the armouries and was kind enough to give me a tour on my last day in Leeds, including getting to see the research library, which I now know to make an appointment for visiting the next time I'm there (I likewise learned about the British Library reading rooms and research collection, and got a card for it for the next time I'm in London).
Dr. Tzouriadis was incredibly generous with his expertise, and I learned or clarified a lot of really neat things that'll influence how I draw swords and armor in the future. And I've had some practice this trip thanks to the incredible collections with which I had a chance to spend some time.
Each day over the month of May, I'll be posting one drawing of a sword (or other edged weapon) from either the Royal Armouries, the Tower armory, or the British Museum. It's jumping the gun a bit, but here's a sneak preview of the first one:
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They're toned with a single color (indigo) so that I can collect them into a book in black and white and make both its manufacture and selling cost a bit less than I could were I to do color - it also cuts down on the time spent making them. I'll likely put them up for sale each day as I post them, likely for the same price (50 plus shipping?), as a means by which to recoup some of the (substantial) cost of the trip.
While in Leeds I also got to meet cartoonist James Lawrence, have dinner with cartoonist John Allison, and briefly stop by OK COMICS in the arcade, which was an incredible store with an amazing selection of books.
After Wales we went to London (Penny's first time), and Penny was unfortunately ill for a couple of days, so I spent time at the museum doing sketches, and visiting the library treasures gallery. We saw a couple of musicals that Penny was keen on seeing, went to Charles Dickens's house, visited the Tower, ate some cheap meat pie with jellied eels in Greenwich, toured Westminster and St Pauls (I went to a Eucharist service at the latter, as well as one in Wales in a lovely little church built into the castle wall more than seven hundred years ago), and a handful of other things, including seeing the Tempest at the Globe Theater - my first time seeing a play at the Globe, and my first time seeing the Tempest performed.
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I also got to visit a whole store devoted to Tove Jansson's MOOMIN, where I got a mug and a biography of Jansson, and it was next door to the Benjamin Pollock's Paper Theater shop. I went to London disappointed that the Pollock paper theater museum had closed only months before after decades of operation, and didn't know that there was an (unaffiliated since the 80s) shop, so stumbling upon it was a real treat (stumbling is how I like to do cities - I walked crisscrossed the town between the Euston and the river and found some great shops, including a lot of bookstores).
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Now that I'm home, I'm very keen to get back to work. I'll be doing Patreon commissions, coloring a book for my friend and frequent collaborator Kyle Starks, and just settling back into being able to work, which I missed an awful lot despite the wonderful trip.
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johnalexcooper · 2 months
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Discover the Thrill: Exploring a Premier Rally Test Venue in Wales
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Wales, a land renowned for its rugged landscapes and breathtaking scenery, is a dream destination for rally enthusiasts. The country's natural terrain, with its winding roads and challenging surfaces, offers an ideal setting for rally testing. Among the numerous rally test venues in Wales, one stands out for its exceptional facilities, top-notch tracks, and unparalleled experience it offers to both amateur and professional drivers. This blog explores the unique features and advantages of a premier rally test venue in Wales, making it a must-visit for rally teams and enthusiasts alike.
The Perfect Terrain for Rally Testing
Wales is known for its diverse landscapes, ranging from dense forests and rolling hills to open moorlands and coastal tracks. This variety of terrain makes it a perfect rally test venue in Wales, allowing drivers to experience a wide range of driving conditions. The combination of gravel, mud, and tarmac surfaces simulates real rally stages, providing invaluable training for drivers to hone their skills.
The unpredictable Welsh weather further adds to the challenge, preparing drivers to handle wet, slippery conditions as well as dry, dusty trails. This diversity ensures that rally teams can conduct comprehensive testing and fine-tuning of their vehicles, making Wales an ideal destination for rally preparation.
State-of-the-Art Facilities
A top rally test venue in Wales offers state-of-the-art facilities designed to meet the needs of professional rally teams. These venues provide extensive track options, including high-speed sections, technical corners, and elevation changes. The tracks are meticulously maintained to ensure safety and reliability, allowing drivers to push their vehicles to the limit.
In addition to the tracks, these venues offer advanced workshop facilities equipped with the latest tools and technology. Teams can conduct thorough inspections, repairs, and modifications on-site, ensuring their vehicles are in peak condition. The availability of secure storage for vehicles and equipment also adds to the convenience, making the rally test venue in Wales a one-stop solution for all rally testing needs.
Expert Coaching and Support
One of the standout features of a premier rally test venue in Wales is the availability of expert coaching and support. Skilled rally instructors deliver customized training sessions, sharing valuable tips and strategies to enhance driving skills. These instructors have extensive knowledge of the Welsh terrain and can guide drivers on how to tackle the unique challenges posed by the local tracks.
Moreover, the venues often have support teams consisting of mechanics, engineers, and technicians who assist with vehicle setup and troubleshooting. This comprehensive support network ensures that drivers can focus on improving their skills while the technical aspects are taken care of by professionals.
Comprehensive Testing Programs
A leading rally test venue in Wales offers comprehensive testing programs tailored to the specific needs of rally teams. These programs include track time, coaching sessions, vehicle diagnostics, and data analysis. By combining practical driving experience with technical evaluation, these programs provide a holistic approach to rally testing.
Data analysis is a crucial component of these programs, allowing teams to gather detailed information on vehicle performance. Advanced telemetry systems capture data on speed, acceleration, braking, and handling, which can be analyzed to identify areas for improvement. This data-driven approach ensures that every aspect of the vehicle's performance is optimized, giving teams a competitive edge in actual rally events.
Scenic Beauty and Local Attractions
Beyond the thrill of rally testing, a rally test venue in Wales offers the added advantage of stunning natural beauty and local attractions. The picturesque landscapes of Wales provide a serene backdrop for the high-octane action, making the experience even more memorable. Drivers and teams can take breaks to explore the surrounding areas, enjoying the tranquillity and charm of the Welsh countryside.
Local attractions such as historic castles, quaint villages, and scenic hiking trails offer a welcome respite from the intensity of really testing. Teams can unwind and recharge, ensuring they are physically and mentally prepared for the challenges ahead. The rich cultural heritage and warm hospitality of Wales further enhance the overall experience, making it a destination worth visiting.
Accessibility and Accommodation
Accessibility is another key advantage of a premier rally test venue in Wales. These venues are strategically located to ensure easy access from major cities and transport hubs. Well-connected road networks and nearby airports make it convenient for teams to transport their vehicles and equipment.
Accommodation options near the rally test venues cater to various preferences and budgets. From luxurious hotels to cosy bed-and-breakfast establishments, there is something for everyone. Staying close to the venue allows teams to maximize their track time and make the most of their testing sessions.
Conclusion
A rally test venue in Wales offers an unparalleled experience for rally teams and enthusiasts. The combination of diverse terrain, state-of-the-art facilities, expert coaching, and comprehensive testing programs makes it a top choice for rally preparation. The scenic beauty and local attractions add to the appeal, creating a perfect blend of adrenaline and relaxation.
Whether you are an amateur driver looking to improve your skills or a professional team preparing for a major rally event, a premier rally test venue in Wales provides everything you need to succeed. Embrace the thrill, challenge yourself, and discover why Wales is a top destination for rally testing.
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moreeverydaythings · 3 months
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Day 1847- Offa’s Dyke Llandegla to Bodfari
We had an early start on Day 1847. Taxis are not easy to find in North Wales and the latest pick-up we could arrange was 7:30 am! In the end, thank goodness for the early start.
We’d seen the weather forecast for the day which was basically torrential rain. The BBC Weather site prediction was for100% rain from early morning. Notwithstanding the BBC, our start was dry and the terrain for the first hour was relatively gentle. Behind we could dark mountains and even darker clouds. Despite this we congratulated ourselves on how our luck had held out and we were going to avoid the abysmal forecasted weather. Oh how naïve we were!
As we started to ascend Moel Famau, the rain started to get heavy and the cloud descended so, save for the path in front of you, there was nothing to see. Moel Famau apparently literally translates from the Welsh as “bare mothers” and is the second highest peak on the Offa’s Dyke trail. As we ascended Bare Mothers at regular interval we were met coming in the opposite direction by small groups of Liverpudlian teenagers, red faced, shivering and wearing t-shirts. Each small group usually had a cheery greeting for us such as: “Don’t go up there, mate”, “Have you brought your skis?” or “It’s f* snowin’ up there”.
I thought they’d been joking and when we did get to the summit, not that we could see anything, it was indeed snowing ..and this was July!. We did a quick photo to prove we had been there, but, of course, you could not see anything so we could have been anywhere. It was too cold and too windy to hang around so we started our descent.
By now it was absolutely tipping down with a mixture of frozen rain and sleet. It was a case of simply heads down and keep going. We were soaked through and cold. On the plus side, we had the benefit of the wind largely behind us. We saw a couple of other groups of Offa walkers heading up into the wind as we descended. They all had water running down their red faces which were totally frozen by the freezing rain, sleet and the wind. Each one of them looked exhausted. I guess we didn’t help by telling them it was even worse at the top! We eventually reached the car park for Bare Mothers on the northern side. Optimistically we’d hoped for at very least a mobile coffee van but there was nothing. We each found our own rock to shelter behind and tried to eat some energy bars. Neither of us could open the wrapping of the bars as our hands were numb from the cold. We had to keep reminding ourselves again that this was July! I eventually managed to bite my way through the wrapping before setting off for another sodden and cold climb up the next hill.
After what seemed like an eternity the path started heading generally downward towards Bodfari. There was no overnight accommodation in Bodfari and we had arranged for a taxi to pick us up from a pub called the Dinorben Arms in the early evening to take us to our overnight accommodation in Denbigh. Inevitably our talk focused on the pub. R was convinced it would have a warming open fire. I told him to stop being ridiculous because few pubs have open fires these days and, more importantly, it was July.
Frozen and dripping wet, we opened the pub door and there unbelievably was a roaring open fire….in July! Had I got hypothermia and was imagining this? There were a retired couple by the fire. “Pull up some chairs, lads” they said. “Take off your wet clothes and hang them by the fire. Nobody will mind.” And so we did. Even better the pub served a great selection of Purple Moose beers all of which I had to try.
The Dinorben Arms was indeed heaven but unfortunately Denbigh wasn’t. Everyone was nice enough but, and I’ll say no more, the town felt like it was stuck in the 1980s.
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sciencespies · 2 years
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First satellite launch from the UK set to go ahead in Cornwall
https://sciencespies.com/space/first-satellite-launch-from-the-uk-set-to-go-ahead-in-cornwall/
First satellite launch from the UK set to go ahead in Cornwall
By Alex Wilkins
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The first orbital satellite launch from the UK is due to take place at Spaceport Cornwall in Newquay tonight. If successful, Virgin Orbit’s LauncherOne rocket, carrying a payload of nine satellites, will be released from a modified Boeing 747 plane at 35,000 feet off the south coast of Ireland, from where it will continue into low Earth orbit to drop its cargo.
The UK has the second-largest satellite building industry in the world, after the US, but relies on public and private launches in other countries, such as those from NASA or SpaceX, to get its products into orbit. Many hope that success tonight will mark the beginning of an era in which the UK can launch its own satellites on home turf, as well as those from other countries.
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“It’s been a long road for us to get here, with lots of international agreements and working with countries like Ireland, Spain and Portugal, who are all involved in managing the airspace,” says Matt Archer, director of the UK space flight programme at the UK Space Agency (UKSA). “There’s been a lot of work behind the scenes.”
It has been a frenetic couple of days in the countdown to the launch in Newquay, with the plane, dubbed Cosmic Girl, which has the LauncherOne rocket attached under one wing, submitted to lashings of wind and rain on the runway as the Virgin Orbit team carried out last-minute pre-flight checks. Last week, the set-up passed a “wet dress rehearsal”, in which the entire launch procedure was run through, barring ignition itself.
The team hopes that, even if the weather worsens, the plane should be OK to launch. “The Boeing 747 is a well-proven aircraft. It can take off in very challenging conditions and land back in challenging conditions as well,” says Ian Annett, deputy CEO for programme delivery at UKSA. “Of course, having a rocket underneath its left wing means that you have to be conscious of that, but one of the advantages as well is you can fly above the weather in order to launch [the rocket].”
If the plane gets the green light to launch, it will take off between 9.40pm and 11pm GMT (4.40pm and 6pm EST) and head towards the Irish Sea, where it will drop the rocket about an hour later.
LauncherOne, a rocket that Virgin Orbit has successfully launched four times previously from its facility in the Mojave desert, California, will then start its first-stage burn, which will run for around 20 minutes and accelerate it to about 12,900 kilometres per hour, to initiate its solo journey.
The rocket will then drop its first stage and proceed using the second stage, accelerating to 28,000 kph over about 6 minutes as it passes above Antarctica. It will finally reach its orbital height, of around 500 kilometres, over Australia about an hour after being deployed, where it will release its payload of nine satellites.
This adapted Boeing 747, called Cosmic Girl, will take off from Spaceport Cornwall carrying a rocket under one wing
Spaceport Cornwall
The previous rocket launches in California have given the Virgin Orbit team confidence that tonight’s attempt will go smoothly, with the operation of the system being essentially the same, Dan Hart, CEO of Virgin Orbit, told New Scientist at a pre-launch press conference. The only difference with being in Cornwall rather than the US, he says, is “pasties versus hamburgers”.
The satellites aboard LauncherOne include Welsh company Space Forge’s test satellite – with which it hopes to manufacture materials in orbit – small military communications satellites from the UK Ministry of Defence, a pair of ionospheric monitors in a joint US-UK military collaboration, maritime sensing satellites from Scottish company AAC Clyde Space, a European Space Agency GPS tracker and an imaging satellite jointly launched by Oman and Poland.
Newquay might seem an unlikely place for a satellite launch, but its combination of a long runway, formerly used by the UK’s Royal Air Force, easy access to the sea and a relatively sparse civilian population marked it out as the top choice when the UK government selected it to be the UK’s first spaceport in 2018.
There is excitement in the town, too, both for the launch itself, which hundreds of locals will attend tonight, ferried from shuttle buses in town, and for what the spaceport might bring to the area – which lost out on money from the European Union after Brexit – in terms of jobs and opportunities, such as at the integration facility, which opened last year, where satellites set to be launched are installed in the rocket body.
While tonight’s scheduled launch may be the only one that Cornwall sees this year, the UK government hopes to eventually have a network of spaceports, including a vertical launch facility in Saxa Vord in the Shetland Islands, where it plans to carry out a rocket launch later this year. In 10 years’ time, says Archer, the UKSA hopes to have around 15 launches a year, which will place it on a competitive footing with countries that have more established space launching industries, he says.
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caledfvvlch · 4 years
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Intro to Weather in Welsh
Gramadeg / Grammar
Sut mae'r tywydd heddiw? / What's the weather like today?
Mae hi'n ______ / It's _____
Adding "iawn" after a weather condition makes it "very" that condition:
Mae hi'n braf / It's nice
Mae hi'n braf iawn / It's very nice
Mae hi'n ddiflas, on'd yw hi? / It's miserable, isn't it?
Ydy hi'n sych? / Is it dry? (answer with ydy/nac ydy)
Dyw hi ddim yn braf iawn / It's not very nice
Past Weather
Sut oedd y tywydd ddoe? / What was the weather like yesterday?
Roedd hi'n braf ddoe / It was fine yesterday
Oedd hi'n braf? / Was it fine? (answer with oedd/nac oedd)
Future Weather
Sut bydd y tywydd yfory? / What will the weather be like tomorrow?
Bydd hi'n well yfory / It'll be better tomorrow
Geirfa / Vocab
diflas* / miserable
cymylog* / cloudy
braf / fine, nice
sych / dry
gwlyb* / wet
oer / cold
cynnes* / warm
twym* / hot
heulog / sunny
gwyntog* / windy
niwlog / foggy
stormus / stormy
bwrw glaw / raining (literally "throwing rain")
bwrw eira / snowing
bwrw cesair / hailing
gwell* / better
gwaeth* / worse
tywydd / weather
heddiw / today
ddoe / yesterday
yfory / tomorrow
* these forms need to be mutated (treiglad meddal) after "hi'n" - "braf" technically should mutate to "fraf", but colloquially it doesn't*
**as always, Welsh has many regional differences - this is South Welsh, and there are many correct ways to say these things!**
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fromrusttoroadtrip · 4 years
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Brewing up Turkish coffee in the Welsh mountains on a stormy day- the perfect antidote to a sleepless night.
⁣⁣Perhaps we should’ve expected the  inevitably wet British weather on our camping trip to Snowdonia, but not knowing what to expect was all part of the fun. We’d spent a rather long time trying to find a suitable camp spot that day, eventually settling in a small, untouched patch of pine forest that had not yet been logged unlike its surroundings.⁣⁣
We busied ourselves pitching the tent, lighting a fire and preparing some dinner, and it was only once we had just finished setting up camp that the heavens opened. As our campsite quickly flooded with rain and the fire crackled and hissed, struggling to stay alight, Ben and I frantically began lashing a tarp to the surrounding trees, cutting pieces of cord with an old hunting knife and tying them to whatever branches we could find as rain streamed down our faces and up my sleeves.⁣⁣
You’d think this would’ve been the last straw at the end of a challenging day, but somehow as we sat eating fajitas in the car by the light of the fire that glowed beneath our newly constructed shelter, we caught eachother’s eyes and couldn’t stop giggling. Sure we were wet and cold, our tent was damp and our socks were soaked, but we were having fun nonetheless. We were out here alone, not another human in sight, just battling with the elements and keeping each other company.⁣⁣
The fondest memories we make aren’t always of the best times, and even the best-laid plans often go awry, but we embrace every moment of freedom we can find. Where adventure waits, there lies challenge, and we are prepared to follow. ⁣
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coquillagean · 4 years
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GENDIES PT. 1/1 (54 gendies)
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Biscottaregender: a gender that feels slightly baked, small, warm, and toasty to the user. From Italian “biscottare” meaning “to bake”
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Coctagender: a gender that feels cooked, large, and expansive with dozens of other small baking-oriented genders incorporated into this one gender. Related to Biscottaregender. From Latin “coctus, cocta, coctum” meaning “cooked”
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Cuoceregender: a gender that feels related to Coctagender and Biscottaregender. These genders are considered in a group together, but they all have different components. Cuoceregender is a small, warm, and cozy gender that is completely revolved around cooking, baking, and cottagecore. From Italian “cuocere” meaning “to bake, cook”
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Cottogender: a gender that feels calming, related to baking, and overall small and sweet. It is a part of the group that Cuoceregender, Biscottaregender, and Coctagender is in. From Italian “cotto” meaning “cooked”
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Crudusgender: a masculine gender that feels raw, bloody, and hellish. From Latin “crudus, cruda, crudum” meaning “raw, bloody”
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Crudumgender: a nonbinary/agender gender that feels raw, bloody, and hellish. From Latin “crudus, cruda, crudum” meaning “raw, bloody.” A part of the Crudusgender system.
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Crudagender: a feminine gender that feels raw, bloody, and hellish. From Latin “crudus, cruda, crudum” meaning “raw, bloody.” A part of the Crudusgender system.
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Incinerogender: a gender that feels like it is constantly being reduced due to a “fire” in the overall identity. From Latin “incinero” meaning “I incinerate”
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Incineratagender: a gender that feels like it has been burned to ashes. From Latin “incineratus, incinerata, incineratum” meaning “burned to ashes.” Related to Incinerogender.
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Alghegender: a gender that feels small, aquatic, related to seaweed, summer, and plants. It is also slightly fluid, and feels slightly feminine. From Italian “alga, alghe” meaning “seaweed” (this gender is in the plural).
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Paisgender: a gender that feels peaceful, placid, calming, but full of love. It is a quiet, softly fluid gender that has little to it other than it is never too fluid nor flux. From Middle French “pais” meaning “peace.”
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Raccenderegender: a gender that feels like it had once went out, and went from being a gender to an aporagender/agender-aligned identity. It has been relighted and now is a somewhat fluid gender that is related to fire, the Sun, and weather. From Italian “raccendere” meaning “to relight, rekindle”
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Seccaregender: a gender that feels like it has “dried up” into being a skeleton of what the gender was before. This can be interpreted many different ways, it is up to the user. From Italian “seccare” meaning “to dry, dry up”
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Asciugaregender: a gender similar to Seccaregender in that it is dried up, but still has at least some kind of life or fluidity into it. From Italian “asciugare” meaning “to dry up, mop up, etc”
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Asciuttogender: a gender that is simply dry. It is related to deserts, summer, and sand dunes. From Italian “asciutto” meaning “dry”
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Spaziogender: a gender that feels so spread out and thin that it cannot be determined by a human mind, and is ineffable to the point that it is nearly useless. From Italian "spazio" meaning "space"
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Hodeitsugender: a gender that feels vague, cloudy, small, related to clouds, summer, and stormy days. From Basque “hodeitsu” meaning “cloudy”
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Stremefluid: a fluid gender that flows like a small stream. it is related to the seasons, streams, water, and rivers. From Middle English “strem, streme” meaning “stream”
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Ryverefluid: a fluid gender that flows like a river, it is powerful, related to summer, rivers, and water. From Middle English “ryvere” meaning “river.”
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Hyysfluid: a frosty fluid gender that feels connected to ice, water, and winter. From Middle English “is, hyys” meaning “ice”
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Hagolfluid: a fluid gender that feels cold, wet, and flows between small, water-aligned genders. It is connected to hail, summer, and winter. From Middle English (early Middle) “hayle, hagol” meaning “hail”
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Vlodefluid: a fluid gender that floods the identity with new, water-aligned genders that causes the gender to become more and more revolved around water. From Middle English “flod, vlode” meaning “flood.”
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Drygegender: a gender that feels like it is becoming dry and withering slowly. From Middle English or Old English “drye, dryge” meaning “dry”
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Botymfluid: a fluid gender that feels that it has no bottom, and that there are hundreds of millions of genders not discovered deep inside the identity. From Middle English “botym” meaning “bottom of something”
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Brynkegender: a gender that feels connected to both the land and the sea, and has a huge variety of feelings and connections. These range from a warm gender related to tropical summers and the sunshine to a cold gender that is frosted and cold like the ocean in winter. It is up to the user what they would like to use this gender for, I personally use it for the first definition, hence the flag. From Middle English “brynke,” an alternative to “brinke” meaning “ The coastline or shoreline; the place where land meets sea.”
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Drynchefluid: a fluid gender that feels submerged or taken in by the ocean. it is fluid between ocean, animal, and sky genders. it is also connected to summer, rivers, lakes, ponds, and oceans. from Middle English "drynche," a variation of "drenchen" meaning "to submerge, to put underwater"
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Lampic: a gender related to Lamphead OR a term for a system with a Lamphead alter.
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Sirenic: a gender related to Sirenhead OR a term for a system with a Sirenhead alter.
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Obtenebrogender: a gender that feels darken, gloomy, uncomfortable, and cold. It is infinite, but still never fully discovered what lies inside of it. From Latin “obtenebro” meaning “I darken”
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Offuscaregender: a gender that feels darkened, quiet, and infinite. Related to Obtenebrogender. From Italian “offuscare” meaning “to darken”
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Annebbiaregender: a gender that feels cloudy, uncomfortable, and nebulous. It is almost ineffable, but still has some use to it other than that. From Italian “annebbiare” meaning “to cloud” 
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Otttenebraregender: a gender that feels dark, hellish, and small. From Italian “ottenebrare” meaning “to darken” (again)
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Tepefaciogender: a gender that warms up, becomes fiery, and is as hot as the Sun, stars, and the seven hells combined. From Latin "tepefacio" meaning "I warm up"
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Teporgender: a gender that feels gentle, warm, and loving. it is related to small candles, warm weather, and summer. From Latin and English “tepor” meaning “gentle warmth”
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Tepidagender: a gender that feels tepid, lukewarm, and related to autumn days, falling leaves, and pumpkins, as well as campfires, fireplaces, and hot coals. From Latin “tepidus, tepida, tepidum” meaning “tepid”
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Tepescogender: a gender that grows warm, is related to summer, spring, and fire. It is a slightly masculine gender, which is different than others. From Latin “tepesco” meaning “I grow warm”
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Intepeogender: a gender that is lukewarm, it grows slightly warmer under certain circumstances, but eventually cools off and becomes essentially unknown. From Latin “intepeo” meaning “I am lukewarm or tepid”
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Tepeogender: a gender that feels warm, tepid, or even lukewarm. It is large, fiery, and loving. It can also be slightly fluid, but is also flux. From Latin “tepeo” meaning “I am warm, lukewarm, or tepid”
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Epeltasunfluid: a fluid gender that feels fluid like warmth, is related to summer, autumn, and fireplaces. It is also connected to forests, evergreens, and mountains. From Basque “epeltasun” meaning “warmth”
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Berotasunfluid: a fluid heat-aligned gender that feels connected to summer, fire, furnaces, and flames. From Basque “berotasun” meaning “heat”
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Lainotsufluid: a gender that feels misty, fluid like water, and slightly masculine, but most nonbinary. From Basque “lainotsu” meaning “misty”
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Zerugender: a gender that feels expansive, infinite, and almost impossible to see all at one time. it is connected to the sky, summer, rain, winter, and clouds. From Basque “zeru” meaning “sky.”
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Kolorefluid: a fluid gender that is connected to all colors and is fluid based on what color is most prominent at the moment. From Basque “kolore” meaning “color”
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Eurigender: a gender that feels rainy, small, and cozy. It is related to rainy days, storms, and summer afternoons. From Basque “euri” meaning “rainy”
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Euritsugender: a gender that feels rainy, large, and calming. It is related to rainy afternoons, summer, and winter. From Basque “euritsu” meaning “rainy.”
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Eguzkigender: a gender that feels sunny, large, connected to the sun, summer, and tropical environments. From Basque “eguzki” meaning “sun”
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Elurgender: a snowy, frosty gender that feels connected to snow, winter, forests, and frosted mornings. From Basque “elur” meaning “snow”
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Selvaggiogender: a gender that seems to be more wild than other genders, and can simply disappear into a wilderness of other genders. From Italian “selvaggio” meaning “wild, savage”
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Posebangender: a gender that feels alienated, special, and weird. It is connected to outer space, exoplanets, and aliens. From Serbo-Croatian “poseban” meaning “special, particular”
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Barranigender: a gender that feels foreign, alien, and unknown. From Maltese “barrani” meaning “foreign”
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Gharibgender: a gender that feels alien, weird, strange, foreign, or odd. It is connected to aliens, summer, and the planet Saturn. From Maltese “gharib” meaning “strange”
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Rhyfeddgender: a gender that feels weird, odd, and out of kilter. It is connected to the genders above, and is synonymous with each other. From Welsh “rhyfedd” meaning “strange, odd”
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Endeleasfluid: a fluid gender that is endless, ineffable, astounding, and wild. From Old English “endeleas” meaning “endless”
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Txikigender: a gender that feels small, tiny, related to candy, candles, and sweetness. From Basque “txiki” meaning “small”
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When I fall in love with you
The rain fell hard around her, seeping into the mushy earth, as she walked fastly from the Forbidden Forest, feet sinking into the wet grass. She clutched her books tightly in the crook of her arm, covered by her black cloak, protecting them from the incessant torrents of water falling from the dark sky. Lily and the girls had told her to come back to the castle with them, but she had insisted on staying longer to help Professor Kettleburn with the escaped Nifflers, using the occasion to ask a few more questions about the lesson. Unfortunately, the weather had turned for the worse, resulting in her rushing through the Hogwarts Grounds, soaked to the bone. She was already nearing the castle, walking along the greenhouses, when suddenly a hand shot out of the door of Greenhouse number 3, pulling her into the warmth and moisture of the glasshouse brusquely. The unknown hand wrapped itself tightly around her throat, cold, bony fingers digging into her soft skin. Another arm wound itself around her waist, restraining her and impeding any movement whatsoever. Thrashing and kicking against her assailant's firm grip, she attempted to free herself, in vain.
"Now, now, Miss Cattermole, there's no need for such violence," hissed Malfoy's voice in her ear.
"What...do you...want?" she choked, barely managing to force the words out of her mouth.
Another foreign, freezing hand slapped her across the face, long nails scraping her skin, knocking off her glasses, which fell on the floor.
"Do not open your mouth, unless spoken to, you filthy little mudblood," seethed a high-pitched, slightly crazed voice: Bellatrix Black.
Straining to see, she finally distinguished four blurry figures, all dressed in black.
"The Dark Lord is rising, and someone like you has no place in the Wizarding World. Unfortunately for you, that means eliminating all of you mudbloods, one by one, until no one remains standing. Consider yourself...collateral damage, if you will," whispered her attacker.
"You...can't do...anything...to me. You will be...sent to...Azkaban," said Finn in a raspy voice.
She was nearly suffocating now, throat raw, as she continued struggling to try and escape.
"You're right," he continued. "We may not be able to kill you, but we can certainly inflict pain upon you..."
***
Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she painstakingly peeled them open. Memories of menacing, blurry, dark figures, cold, cruel voices, and a chokingly tight grip around her throat flashed through Finn’s mind, yet she did not remember much more. She did recall feeling an intense wave of fear though before darkness swallowed her. Her body felt sore and exhausted, searing white-hot pain bursting in sporadic spurts along her rib cage and hips. She whimpered feebly as another sharp pang of pain stabbed her head. Suddenly alert and aware that she might still be in danger and that her assailants probably weren’t far, she scrambled for her glasses. They had fallen somewhere near her, she was sure of it, but only dirt and gravel rolled under her palms. Palming her cloak rapidly, she found her wand instead.
“Accio glasses,” she whispered, waving it briefly in front of her.
The familiar shape of the spectacles glided smoothly into her palm, having been laying seemingly close to her. As soon as she put them on, the world sharpened around her and came into focus, the black spots and kaleidoscopic spectrum covering her surroundings disappearing abruptly. The greenhouse around her was filled to the brim with lush plants with waxy leaves and bright, blossoming flowers, strange spindly bushes, vibrant potted plants with twisting tentacles, and other bizarre species of magical herbs and fungi. No one was in sight, she was thankfully alone. She attempted to stand up, but her weak, shaking legs, nearly buckled under her and she stumbled forward, nearly flying face-first into a cactus covered in purple berries. More pain flooded her knees as she slowly took a few tentative steps. Groaning in pain, Finn propped herself up against a wooden worktop. Her blurry reflection stared back at her from the misty glass of the greenhouse, covered in millions of water droplets. The crystal was barely clear enough to reflect her unusual, stark paleness, her brown grimy locks hanging limply over her eyes, and the reddish, rapidly bluing bruises on her neck left by rough fingers. The same bruises were probably blossoming on her hips too now, judging by the pain emanating from there and spreading through her body. Angry, scarlet, crescent-shaped nail marks cut across her cheek, and a deeper gash sliced through them, blood pearling at its edges and steadily trickling down her cold, clammy face. She rummaged briefly through her pockets, hoping to find a napkin leftover from lunch to slow the blood flow but they were empty.
“Fuck!” She swore loudly in frustration.
The pain appeared to stem not only from superficial wounds but also from magical wounds terror deeply inside her organism. She could not go to Madam Pomfrey even though she probably should as she would ask questions, which would inevitably lead to consequences, and more trouble with whoever her attackers were was the last thing she needed. She did not know any healing spells for this or Glamour Charms strong enough to cover all the damage up and neither was she in a state fit to perform them. Her best bet was thus Marlene, the one with the most magi-medical experience since her mother was a Mediwitch. But that meant facing her friends, and Merlin knew what they would do if they found out about the whole story, especially Sirius. With a heavy sigh and wand at the ready, she cautiously slipped out of the greenhouse, resolving to wait a bit until everyone was at dinner to sneak back into her dorm and speak to Marlene alone.
Outside, curtains of rain kept falling and hammering against the glass roof of the greenhouse, sliding down along the fogged-up panels, but they were thinner than before. The sky, a murky shade of gray when she left class, had darkened considerably, now ink black. Not a single star or ray of moonlight was insight, and the vicious cold seeped past her clothes. She must have been unconscious for half an hour at the very least. With a deep sigh, she began making her way between puddles of sombre water and mud. The Hogwarts’ shadow loomed over her threateningly, and the entrance door seemed so far away, a pale golden brown blur in the distance. Clutching her wand tighter, she finally stepped between the fleeting, lurking shadows of the Courtyard’s columns. A single, lonely silhouette stood in the center of it, near the fountain, appearing anxious as they frantically looked around themselves. All of a sudden, she heard it, like a nervous whisper cutting through the roaring wind and water in her ears, and the pain clouding her brain, her name, being called over and over again.
“Finn! FINN!”
And then it hit her. That tall, lanky frame and those short, brown curls she could barely distinguish in the dim light coming from the castle, it was Remus.
“Remus!” she shouted.
Instantly, the figure turned around, and walked rapidly towards her, almost running.
“Finn,” he exclaimed loudly. “I was...I mean we were worried about you, you disappeared after class.”
His voice was unexpectedly ear-splitting, sending pangs of pain through her brain, making her wince with pain.
“Finn,” he repeated cautiously, more quietly. “Are you alright?”
His Welsh accent, which he usually managed to cover up, cut through his words worriedly.
“I’m fine,” she replied shortly, swiftly backing away into the darkness, wrapping her cloak around herself tightly.
“No you are not,” he chided. “What happened?”
“I said I’m fine.”
Her tone was hard and cold, bordering on mean.
“Nothing happened, I swear, I’m alright,” she whispered. “There is no cause for worry.”
“I am not blind, Finn. I see the cut on your face and don’t tell me you fell,” Remus added, seeing that she was about to protest. “Unfortunate accidents do not leave bruises like that.”
He stared sharply at her neck, a dangerous glint playing in his warm brown eyes speckled with green.
“Who was it, love?” He inquired quietly.
Love. He only used that nickname when he was furious, and every time it shook her, sending shivers down her spine.
“I can’t remember,” she sighed.
“What happened? Please tell me, I just want to help.”
His voice had softened once again, concern written all over his face as he raised a gentle hand and brushed a stray strand of hair covered in dirt from her face.
“I was walking back from Care of Magical Creatures class, and someone attacked me near greenhouse number 3, dragged me inside, and…”
“And?”
“Oh Merlin, I remember now,” gasped Finn. “Please don’t tell anyone, not James, not the girls, and especially not Sirius. Regulus was with them and it will only rile him up, things are already𑁋”
“Finn,” he stopped her. “Just explain to me what happened, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“I...I can’t...I don’t want to Remus,” she breathed.
“You know you can trust me right?” He asked, putting a soft but heavy hand on her arm.
The young witch trembled lightly, the small touch sending heat and sparks coursing all over her body. He loomed tall over her, almost dangerously, yet she had never felt so safe.
“I will tell you, I swear. Just...not to now, please.”
“Okay.”
She exhaled sharply, before sitting down on the cold stones. Remus kneeled next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly, as if to shelter her from any possible harm. On an impulse, she began to hum, her hushed voice barely hearable over the thundering rain falling around them.
When I fall in love
It will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love
In a restless world
Like this is
Love has ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun
She was very much aware of the fact that the tall boy was staring at her, while she watched the raindrops fall onto the cobblestones, but she kept going.
When I give my heart
It will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart
And the moment I can feel that
You feel that way too
Is when I fall in love
With you
And the moment I can feel that
You feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you
“Michael Buble? When I fall in love with you?” He smiled.
“You know it?” She said, surprised.
“Yeah, my muggle aunt used to put some on from time to time.”
He paused.
“You sing beautifully, Finn.”
fanfic written for Finn, the lovely @marauders_aesthetic on Instagram
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anthropocore · 4 years
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in 5 years I want to be:
- living in a little cottage in mid-Wales with my boyfriend, some dogs, some cats, maybe chickens, possibly a kid!!! scary - a teacher! I would love to teach in a primary school - driving!!! I would love a small 4x4 for snowy and wet weather, and going down muddy trails on adventures - more proficient with the Welsh language - more knowledgeable about Tarot
where do you want to be in 5 years?? send me a message or reply!!
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jaydejohnson-writes · 3 years
Text
30
Taylor was a fish out of water. He knew nothing about Wales or the Welsh, outside of the knowledge they were somewhere in Europe. His geography skills evaded him. It was cold and wet. He was told that was typical weather for winter. It would start becoming sunny again in the spring. Was that how it was in California? No, they had sun and warm weather year-round. Though, they also had their sporadic cold days and rain. Winter, usually fell to the upper sixties.
That was sweatshirt and sweatpants weather. In the summer, it could get really warm. A lot of people liked to go to the beaches for the day or just for an afternoon. How many beaches were there? Fifteen. He couldn’t name them all. The therapist laughed. They had beaches, as well. About a hundred fifty. Wow! He would have to come back sometime and check out a few of them!
The other patients asked him about America, California, and what his life was like. He enjoyed living somewhere warm and being able to spend an afternoon driving around, though he spent his time with his best friend and his wife. Why was he in rehab? Depression and unresolved childhood trauma. He told them that before he had come to Wales, he had a mental breakdown from stress and had tried taking his own life. One of his friends found him unconscious in his bathtub and called 911, their nationwide emergency number.
He spent a week in the hospital for his attempt. Could he share his childhood trauma? He jokingly asked how much time they had. They picked up on the joke and laughed. They had about an hour. He replied he used humor to work through his trauma and he often made jokes about it or his mental health. They understood. He then told them everything.
“My birth parents were negligent. They were only around to bathe me, put me to bed, and get me up in the morning. They had the financial resources to take time off work to take care of me. instead, they chose to work and attend Hollywood events. I was raised by babysitters. When I was 18, the legal age in America, I came out to them as a gay transgender man. My birth father told me ‘We didn’t raise our daughter to be one of those people.’ It was because of that, I cut them out of my life.”
Between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, he was sexually abused by a family friend. He learned that he wasn’t his only victim and they were bringing a lawsuit against him for psychological damages. His abuser also gave him HIV, which he found out about a year ago. Before his mental breakdown, he had been sexually assaulted by an older man who was mentoring him. He also sold his body to men for money before his HIV diagnosis. Did he have a family? Yeah, he had been officially adopted by another set of family friends.
They were the first people he came out to and they took him in as their son after his birth parents disowned him. His parents took him to his appointments and they paid for his transition. They were also the first people he told after his HIV diagnosis. He owed everything to them because he would otherwise still be selling his body for money.
That was a story! Someone asked what HIV was. The therapist leading the group asked him if it was ok to talk about it. Yeah, go ahead. She then described how it was a disease that attacked the immune system. It could be contracted through unprotected sex, sharing needles, or from mother to baby in pregnancy or through nursing. What was his outlook? It was good. He had to take care of his body by eating right, working out, managing stress, and quarantining when he didn’t feel well.
His friends and family helped him out whenever he needed it. Whether that was checking up on him, spending time with him when he was sick, or asking about doctor’s appointments. He had to be careful about not getting sick and managing his mental health.
His family was mixed because he had an older half-brother, an older half-sister, a brother the same age, and a brother younger than him. He was somewhere in the middle.
It’s not just about Ava but you guys, too. It was Richie’s fuck up but the press will jump all over you. Please let me decide this. As much as I hate him and want him in prison, I still love him as the man I thought he was. I know you guys don’t understand that but he treated me well. Even though it wasn’t a romantic relationship, he loved me. I can’t let go of that or be convinced otherwise. I loved him as I love you. I just can’t see him as a rapist. He made a really horrible mistake. – Taylor
Jon wanted to argue as he read the text message but he decided it wouldn’t be worth it. Phil and David came over to him. They could see something on his face, though he couldn’t read his expression. What’s going on? Once everyone was gathered, he told them that he and Taylor were discussing pressing charges against Richie for the assault. He then read his reply.
No, it wasn’t a mistake. He knew what he was doing and Taylor was a victim! Manipulation. He had convinced him he loved him and he believed it. That wasn’t loving.
taylorjhanks: “And he said, someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying”. Maybe I’m just rambling but I need to get this out. Depression sucks but coming here has completely changed my life. For once, I’m part of a group of people struggling with mental illness and/or addictions. It’s made me reevaluate my perspectives on both. Before, I had dreams of becoming a musician. While that’s still true, I also want to become an advocate for mental health and HIV awareness. It’s not about wealth but people knowing who I am and my story and letting other abuse survivors know they’re not alone. I want to leave behind something to be proud of and I want to know that I did the best I could. Btw, I’m fully aware I quoted a country song! Don’t at me!
How was he going to become an advocate? He didn’t know yet but it was something he wanted to do. When he died, he wanted to leave behind something he was proud of. With his HIV, he didn’t know when that would be. It depended on medicine, technology, and his physical health. He could be thirty, forty, fifty years old. Though, his goal was to live until forty-five, at least. Why did he choose that age?
“Freddie Mercury was forty-five when he died of AIDS”, he said with a laugh.
“You’re a fan of Queen?”
He shook his head. “No, I just admire the person Freddie was. He was unapologetic, yet humble and reserved. On stage, he didn’t care. I almost changed my name to Freddie but then I decided that name didn’t really fit me.”
“How old are you now?”
“I’m twenty but I’ll be twenty-one in a month.”
“A lot can happen in twenty years. You could make it to forty-five or even beyond.”
“I hope so. There’s a lot I still want to do and I want enough time to do it all.”
Every time you post something on Instagram, I’m blown away at how mature you are! How on earth are you younger than me? You’re my younger brother but you’re also my equal. I can’t wait to see you! Call me when you get home, so we can hang out. – Elizabeth
That is one of the best compliments I’ve ever received! Thank you! I will definitely call you when I get back to LA! – Taylor
@astrotravelingg @zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @born-to-lose
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countessklair · 5 years
Text
hands - goblet of fire
in which the triwizard tournament goes very differently than anyone expects.
the lone champion dies, but the group survives.
maybe it shouldn’t have been like this.
but ever since the first task, when Fleur pulled out the Welsh Green, a newly realized fear set in around them. eyes darted over, hearts pounded as one as tiny figurines representing very real threats were cupped in too-young palms.
the cannon had sounded and Cedric was shaken, just standing at the exit with trembling hands, the roaring crowd and the roaring dragon beyond.
then, a hand wound through his, small and cool and trembling just as much. Fleur.
another hand landed on his shoulder, heavy, warm, a tremble in the palm. Viktor.
a third at his elbow, smaller, clutching, certain without any tremors.
Cedric looked over at Harry and wondered how awful the last three years had really been for the boy to give him that grave awareness in his eyes, eyes that were far older than any fourteen year old had a right to have.
three hands squeezed, and an equilibrium wove through Cedric’s gut.
he walked out of the tent and into the dragon's lair. 
Cedric was never certain, and yet he was certain that the others had the same kind of experience going to face the dragons. hands supporting, giving ease. 
all but harry, who had to face it all alone.
then the second task came around, and the four of them were standing on the platform above the black lake, looking for people who weren’t there, standing under the watchful eyes of adults who were using them to play out old feuds.
the look on Harry’s face threatened to kill Cedric. like none of this surprised him. like he was used to the threat of death and ruin, of the threat of a crowd turning against him at the slightest provocation.
Viktor had the same sort of look.
Cedric had to wonder if he was the only one who saw it, but then he looked at Fleur and knew she saw it too.
the adults had to back off as the four of them got ready to go up to their marks.
instead, the four of them drew in close together. Fleur reached for Cedric’s hand first, then Viktor’s. Viktor took Harry’s hand, and without even hesitating, Harry took Cedric’s.
for a few heartbeats, everything else fell away. the crowd, the onlooking school and ministry officials, the freezing weather, the lapping of the lake pushing closer and closer onto the dock in sickly beckoning waves.
for a few heartbeats, they all breathed as one in the silence between them. hands shook, knowing now what was at stake, the danger they were in. 
for a few heartbeats, they were fine. safe. whole.
then it was over when Karkarov ripped Viktor away, hissing something in Bulgarian that made him flinch.
the four of them took their marks and dove into the water.
Cedric was there second, only just after Harry, who was looking between Ron and Hermione with a panicked expression like this wasn’t a choice he wanted to make. Harry reached for Ron first only because he was closer, and then reached for Hermione as well and the merfolk charged
Cedric readied his wand, speeding forward towards them and ready to strike when suddenly Viktor charged through and chased them off, grabbing Hermione without a second thought.
and wasn't that horrible, that among three schools Hermione Granger was the one person he cared most about. people Viktor had known his entire life didn’t hold the trust and love that a girl he’d known five and a half months.
Cedric freed Cho and tapped his watch at Harry, who nodded in understanding. Viktor spared a moment to look Harry over, checking he was alive and relatively well, and then the two of them started speeding off towards the surface. 
quietly, Cedric was impressed with Viktor and Harry. the shark head charm was short-lived, and Viktor was lucky it’d lasted this long. and whatever Harry had done was, frankly, simply, impressive.
Cedric and Viktor raced to the top, something like relief and playful competition between them as the water got brighter, lighter.
neither of them looked behind them. 
why would they?
Harry was Harry Potter. and he was right behind them.
Fleur had proved she was capable, she wouldn’t be long behind them either.
Cedric reached the surface just before Viktor, Viktor’s charm expiring just in time for the Seeker to give Cedric a bright, playfully mock-angry laugh.
Hermione and Cho came to on the docks, coughing up lake water and a gag of herbs from their throats.
Cedric and Viktor were laughing, relieved and lightheaded. and then that ended when Fleur dropped down to her knees next to them with desperate eyes and no Gabrielle in sight.
Fleur never laid eyes on her sister before the Grindylows got her. Hermione’s eyes were wide and wet with tears as Cho tried to shush her, Ginny climbing down from above to join them.
Fleur and Viktor and Cedric huddled together at the very edge of the docks, hands winding together, hearts pounding as one, searching searching searching as Fleur keened in French.
Dumbledore wouldn’t let them die at the bottom of the black lake...right?
the clock had almost run out, the seconds ticking by closer and closer to the finish, and with three minutes to go Ron and Gabrielle breached the surface.
alone.
Fleur nearly dove right back into the water to get her sister, only held back by Viktor and Cedric’s hands and shushing words.
Gabrielle was wrapped in three towels as she reached the platform, teeth chattering in the wind and frigid water, and she was immediately sent to the medic tent when Viktor’s hand came away wet with blood and Cedric ripped back Gabrielle’s sleeve to reveal a nasty Grindylow bite.
and yet, even though her sister was lead away, Fleur fell right back in between Viktor and Cedric, hands finding each other and shoulders pushing together as they watched the water for Harry.
Hermione and Ron were muttering under their breath, things that made Cedric’s head spin.
“he survived Voldemort down in the dungeons first year”
“he survived the basilisk”
“he survived Tom Riddle and the diary”
“he survived rogue bludgers and falling from ten thousand feet”
“he survived a werewolf on the full moon”
“he survived the dementors at the black lake”
“he survived a dragon”
“he survived”
“he's fine”
“he's fine”
“he's fine”
one minute to go, the water surface broke sharply up and suddenly Harry landed, heavily, gasping, coughing, bleeding, on the deck.
as one, the three of them snatched towels and bandages from the people around them, wrapping them around Harry and shushing him when he could not bite back the pain any longer.
Fleur’s hands were white-knuckled, her fair skin almost blue from the chill, and she pressed her thanks into Harry’s temple, tears falling down her cheeks while Cedric shielded them from Rita Skeeter’s wretched camera and wicked tongue as Viktor barked an order at the Durmstrang students to shut her out.
Cedric grinned at her squawking as they complied.
Harry barely had his breath back when he asked, “Ron. Mione. Cho. Gabrielle.”
“Fine,” Viktor said beneath the roar of the crowd and the arguing of the judges, rubbing circles over Harry’s back to warm him, head dipped low so no one saw his mouth move. “All fine. Safe.”
“Thanks to you,” Cedric said, and Harry met his gaze.
Cedric’s throat went dry at the cautious hope in his eyes, the sheer exhaustion, the pressure to do everything, everything, the pressure of the Boy Who Lived living in those eyes and Cedric wondered how no one else had ever seen it.
and then Ron and Hermione pushed in beside them, their hands running over Harry, checking his body for injuries like they didn’t trust Harry to tell them about them, like maybe he would hide them from them, Ron and Hermione muttering darkly about the tournament and trading insults for the occupants of the black lake even as their voices softened when they spoke to Harry.
maybe it wasn’t just Cedric who saw those things weighing on Harry, dragging him into the dark like Grindylows into the muck at the bottom of a scottish lake.
the third task came around. 
the stands shook with the noise of the cheering crowd, the band, the happy scream of cannon fire.
and yet the four of them shook in fear.
Harry had warned them something was coming, something awful, something dark.
maybe if they hadn’t looked at him in these last few months they wouldn’t have believed him. maybe if they hadn’t seen him, really looked and seen him, seen in his eyes what had been done to him, what he had been forced to endure without breaking or bending or complaining, they might not have believed him.
but they had.
and they did.
and so they stood together, alone in the roaring crowd.
breathing.
shaking.
fearing.
Harry reached out first, and the rest of them followed through soon after, pulling in close enough they rested their heads together. 
“whatever happens,” Harry said solemnly, “don’t let your guard down. be ready to Apparate if necessary. just be ready.”
Viktor nodded, slow and steady. “be safe,” he growled as each of them met his eyes.
Fleur blew out a shaky breath, her veela eyes blinking rapidly to clear away the threatening tears. she pressed firm kisses to each of their temples and ordered them not to die.
Cedric held on tighter for a moment. “some game.”
Harry laughed bitterly, sending Dumbledore a look that Cedric didn’t even begin to understand. “some game.”
they were pulled away from each other then, and barely given a moment to breathe before the cannon sounded and Cedric and Harry were shoved inside.
Cedric encountered everything from acromantuals and redcaps to a sphinx and rapidly changing hedge pathways.
but nothing compared to when he turned a corner and stumbled on Harry and Viktor and Viktor turned to him with fogged over eyes and a deadweight stance and hurled a curse in a voice that didn’t sound like his.
Cedric managed to hit him with a stunning charm, and Viktor dropped to the ground.
Harry turned Viktor over to check his pulse and eyes and breathing, calling to Cedric as he approached, “he was bewitched”
“i know” Cedric said, panting, watching the hedge for threat and movement. “Fleur?”
"here” she panted, emerging from the other corner, blood dripping down her left cheek, eyes wild and fierce. 
Cedric swallowed, looking at the two of them. “how do you want to play this?” 
Harry looked up at him in confusion, head tilted oddly.
he didn’t get to ask whatever he was about to when all of a sudden the hedge around them came to life and tried to swallow Viktor whole. the three of them made noises of protests, reaching out and picking Viktor’s bulky body up, but they had no time before they were forced into action, running ahead of the hedge nipping at their running heels. 
they dodged newly forming corners and turns that suddenly closed off as they approached.
formulaic.
“it’s leading us somewhere!” Harry yelled.
that was what concerned Cedric.
Fleur spat something in French, her wand lighting up, and Viktor came gasping back to reality, falling into running step with them like it was second nature.
then, suddenly, they turned a new corner and the maze went silent and still.
they stood there, panting, eyes darting over one another critically, looking for injuries and the sources of the blood on their clothes.
“you” Fleur gasped, “were bewitched”
Viktor spat out blood. “Karkarov.”
Harry and Fleur snarled in fury, reaching for him to steady him when he wavered slightly.
Viktor wiped more blood from his mouth, meeting Cedric’s eyes. “you have a mean stunning hex.”
Cedric grinned wide.
they were nearly done now. they’d found one another, as planned. they just had to find the cup and get the fuck out.
that was when Cedric finally noticed an odd blue glimmer in the corner of his eye.
“Harry”
it was the cup. 
they ran for it as one, and Cedric had no doubt it was because they all wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
they skid to a stop in front of the cup, looking at each other.
“together,” they said as one. just like they planned.
“one,” Fleur said
“two,” Viktor said
“three,” they all said as they reached for the cup at the same time.
Cedric didn’t know what he was expecting, but the hook sinking into his gut and wrenching him back, his hand welding to the surface of the cup as the four of them were sent spinning into the air was not it. they landed hard, the cup falling away.
Cedric expected the cheering of the crowd or the trumpeting of the band.
nothing.
he looked up, freezing in place.
they were in a graveyard.
a very dark, creepy graveyard.
a ramshackle building and a large cold cauldron were the only things other than graves in sight.
something was waiting for them here.
“it’s a portkey,” Viktor said from where he was studying the cup, not touching it.
Fleur studied her surroundings very carefully, her head swiveling in an eerie way.
Cedric stood, motioning Viktor closer, something terrible in his gut. “keep close.”
“fuck,” Harry cursed.
Cedric looked over, and to his horror, Harry was shaking.
Harry, who didn’t tremble under threat of death or dragons, was shaking as he looked at a grave.
“Tom Riddle” he gasped, and the rest of them drew their wands, closing ranks.
a man melted out of the shadows, carrying a bundle.
the bundle in the man’s arms stirred as the cauldron suddenly came to life, fire flaring beneath its base.
“capture the spares,” a raspy voice called, although the man in front of them’s mouth did not move.
“no!” Harry screamed, leaping in front of them all, but he was tossed away by a curse from the man. 
three more men melted out of the shadows behind them, their eyes fogged over like Viktor’s had been, and all too quickly Viktor and Fleur and Cedric were on the ground without their wands, a strange man’s foot pressing heavily on each of their throats.
Harry was captured up against the largest grave, the one with the Reaper that the cauldron was positioned in front of. 
the first man unwrapped the bundle in his arms, revealing a horrid, unrecognizable, pale creature which muttered, “do it now, Wormtail!”
and the creature was put into the boiling cauldron.
The man, Wormtail, approached Harry.
“get away from him!” Cedric screamed, Fleur and Viktor also renewing their struggling against their captors.
Wormtail only gave them a glare before flicking his wand at them, and their voices went silent.
Wormtail began an incantation.
“Bone of the father unwillingly given.” a bone was lifted from the grave with the Grim Reaper, dropping into the cauldron.
“Flesh of the servant willingly sacrificed.” Wormtail drew a silver knife and cut off his right hand. he screamed in pain as his severed hand fell into the now roiling water.
then, Wormtail turned back to Harry with that same bloody silver knife. 
they all started to struggle, but could not throw off their captors.
“Blood of the enemy forcibly taken.” Wormtail cut open Harry’s sleeve, then dragged his knife deep along the veins in his forearm, the blood spilling free as Harry thrashed, unable to move away, screaming, the scent of burning flesh carrying over to them as Wormtail flicked the blood into the cauldron.
“The Dark Lord will rise again.”
the cauldron exploded, transforming into a dark fog that curled wickedly in on itself, something forming from within.
the mist settled, revealing...
Voldemort.
He Who Must Not Be Named.
The Dark Lord.
You Know Who.
the creature who stalked Harry’s every step, haunted his dreams.
Voldemort reached out and took Wormtail’s last whole arm, pressed his wand to the same forearm that Wormtail had mutilated on Harry, and called out a curse Cedric didn’t know.
the same symbol that had appeared at the world cup twisted into the sky, the maw of the skull opening as the snake writhed. from the open jaws came nine black trailing shadows that shot like comets towards the graveyard, and where they landed, revealed a Death Eater.
one by one, Voldemort named, berated, and unmasked them, cursing them and their line, twisting their bodies with his magic, laughing.
and then he caught sight of Harry.
at Voldemort’s mere touch, Harry screamed in pain, thrashing as violently as possible in his captured position, blood still dripping down his body and soaking the ground and grave beneath.
the spell Wormtail cast was too strong, though, and as much as they struggled, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor could not get free.
Voldemort released Harry, forced him into a dueling position, hissing, serpent-like, that he would take back the fame and glory and power Harry had stolen.
Harry was tortured, toyed with, tossed between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, still fighting back.
he was shaking, bleeding, twitching from the last of Lucius Malfoy’s Crutiatus. 
then Voldemort caught sight of Fleur. 
“ah,” he sneered, floating like a wraith over to her, pressing death white, grimy, too long fingers to her blood-stained hair. “a little tarnished, perhaps, but still a good example. shall i show you, Harry, how i killed your filthy muggle mother?”
he lifted his wand to strike but Harry reacted first and Voldemort was forced back into the fight.
a silent pop echoed in Cedric’s ears and he looked over to meet Fleur and Viktor’s eyes in the glow of the duel.
“do nothing!” Voldemort screamed at his followers, and they froze in their steps, unable to move. “he is mine to finish!”
“one,” Fleur whispered.
“two,” Viktor hissed.
“three,” Cedric finished. 
as one they threw off their captors and took back their wands.
Fleur opened her mouth, her wand pointed at her own throat, and sang, something so terrible and dark the Death Eaters fell screaming to the ground, clutching at suddenly bloody ears.
Viktor pounded against the barrier between them and Harry, eyes furious and desperate.
blue ghostly figures stood beside Harry, their mouths moving with words they could not hear, Fleur still screaming as she backed up to join them, but Cedric could feel it would not last.
Harry met their eyes.
‘together’ he mouthed, and they nodded, ready.
Harry gave a decisive nod and the dueling lights, green and red, ceased, the blue wisps darting forward and swallowing Voldemort.
it took less than three seconds.
Fleur stopped screaming. Viktor and Cedric and Fleur caught Harry as he came towards them, their hands weaving together.
“accio!” Cedric called for the cup. 
it met his fingers and engulfed them all just as the blue wisps disappeared.
they landed even harder than they had landed in the graveyard, gasping, bleeding, shaking.
the fanfare of the band started up immediately, the roaring crowd soon after.
Fleur was the first to straighten up, her hands shoving at Viktor and Cedric’s.
“off off off” she called desperately, and they obeyed, panic bubbling in their chests when they realized Harry was not breathing.
Cedric’s knee accidentally came too close and he realized with a sickening sinking feeling that that sharp thing poking his knee was one of Harry’s ribs.
“POMFREY!” Cedric screamed as Viktor gently cradled Harry’s head in his lap and Fleur kept checking him for other injuries.
the crowd quickly went silent as the head nurse came forth from the crowd that had been descending on them.
“everyone stay back!” McGonagall called, but even she didn’t dare try to stop Ron and Hermione when they pushed through the crowd to fall next to Harry, sobbing, shaking, gasping.
Madame Pomfrey knelt down beside Cedric, reaching out to Harry.
as one, Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric covered his body with their own, and Fleur snarled, her face shifting features, going angular and cruel like her ancestor’s other forms. blood stained her chin and mouth, running down in rivulets over her throat, and Cedric wondered how horribly she’d ripped her vocal cords to give them time.
Madam Pomfrey met their gazes. “i need to see him,” she said softly.
they still didn’t move.
a soft hand fell on Cedric’s shoulder. “come on,” Hermione gasped wetly. “she can heal him.”
Ron was murmuring to Fleur, too low for Cedric to hear, though he could tell Viktor was listening as well.
but it was enough.
by inches, the three of them backed off, though only enough that she could work, pulling potions and bandages and splints from her bag and Harry didn’t respond once.
he didn’t respond when she relocated his left shoulder, or when she poured essence of dittany onto the deep cruel wound in his left forearm to seal it before he bled out, or when she pulled shards of glass and metal and bone from the cauldron and the graveyard from his body, one shard in his side so large it was a big as Cedric’s fist.
he still didn’t stir.
until she got to the broken rib poking through Harry’s side and raised her wand. “episkey.”
Harry came awake screaming, his hands clutching.
but they were there to catch him.
Fleur wiped blood from Harry’s cheek, Viktor rumbled words soothingly in Bulgarian, and Cedric clutched at Harry’s hand.
Harry’s eyes were wild. “he’s back”
the crowd was silent.
tears spilled over Harry’s cheeks. “he’s back. Voldemort’s back.”
then, Harry looked over them wildly. “you, are you...are you?”
Cedric watched Viktor and Fleur’s hands curl tight into Harry’s body. 
“fine.” Viktor said softly. “we’re alive.”
“Mione, Ron-”
“here,” Ron said, his hand wrapped tight over the sticky bloodslick skin of Harry’s left forearm, his palm covering the worst of the resulting scars from the cursed knife. “safe.”
Harry nodded, relief flooding his eyes before they rolled back into his head and he passed out.
“it’s nothing,” Madame Pomfrey said before anyone panicked. “this is normal. i have to get him to the hospital wing.”
but she didn’t move, not until Ron and Hermione, their hands dug deep into Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor’s clothing, pulled them all back from hovering over Harry.
Madame Pomfrey gently levitated Harry, and when his ripped, blood-soaked form rose into the view of the crowd there were gasps and screams and the flash of a camera.
Cedric’s blood boiled.
he stood, feeling Fleur and Viktor behind him as he stalked over to Rita Skeeter and ripped the camera out of her stupid photographer’s hands.
he threw it to the ground, and Viktor spat, “bombarda!” at it, making it explode in a shower of sparks.
Cedric met Rita Skeeter’s beetle-like gaze. “you stay away from Harry Potter,” Cedric snarled, “or so help me God I’ll kill you.”
Rita sputtered, mad as a hornet, until Dumbledore very calmly said, “i think the Daily Prophet has enough information on what has transpired for the moment. do feel free to retire to your rooms at hogsmeade.”
Rita Skeeter looked over the crowd, but found no one to support her. she jabbed a finger at Cedric. “you don’t know what an enemy you’ve made.”
Cedric felt a bloody smile curl over his teeth, relishing the way Rita paled. “oh yeah? try me.”
she scurried away, her photographer following.
silence reigned for a moment, and then a heavy hand fell on Viktor’s shoulder.
“you-”
Cedric and Fleur had spun around and shoved between Viktor and Karkarov at the same time, that same shift coming over Fleur’s face.
“you bewitched him,” Cedric spat, ignoring the look of genuine shock on Karkarov’s face. “you don’t get to touch him.”
“or what?” Karkarov sneered. “i do not fear you, boy.”
“no?” Cedric felt that same smile curl over his face. “do you fear her?”
Fleur snarled, an echo of that same energy she had when she’d screamed at the graveyard thrumming in the sound.
Karkarov went white and stumbled back, right into Alastor Moody, who’s grin was just as lethal as Cedric’s felt. “well now, Karkarov, what’s this i hear about a bewitching?”
“i will tell you later,” Viktor said, voice perfectly level, his hands twining through Fleur’s and Cedric’s. “tomorrow.”
Cedric grinned as Moody hauled Karkarov off.
suddenly, his father was in front of him, and most of the fight left Cedric. “hey, dad.”
his father was crying, looking at the blood, but he pulled him into a fierce hug regardless of it.
over his father’s shoulder, Cedric watched his mother approach Fleur, looking over her and Viktor. “you saved my son?”
“no” they answered together, voiced severe.
“Harry saved us all.” Fleur’s voice was raw, and new blood spilled over her lips as she spoke. 
Cedric thought it was a little funny how everyone but he, Viktor, Ron, Hermione, and his mother flinched as it did.
Viktor met his mother’s eyes. “Harry saved us all, and we saved Harry.”
there was a bit of a blur after that, movement and color and voices, time passing rapidly, but one constant was their hands finding each other’s over and over. 
until they were in the hospital wing, and Fleur was glaring at Ron for already stealing the spot on the small hospital bed next to Harry. Hermione and Viktor were speaking in low tones from their chairs next to Harry’s head, and Cedric was sitting on the other side, his chest draped over Ron and Harry’s legs.
one of his hands held Viktor’s and the other held Fleur’s. Fleur’s other hand held Ron’s, who in turn held Harry, whose other hand was in Hermione’s whose other hand held Viktor’s.
“honestly,” Ron murmured sleepily from his undoubtedly awkward position curled around Harry’s slightly snoring form. “just want one quiet year at hogwarts.”
Cedric chuckled, exhaustion pulling his eyes low.
there would be a reckoning.
he’d pissed off Rita Skeeter, who held the Daily Prophet in the palm of her hand.
Karkarov was at innocent, apparently, because Alastor Moody wasn’t Alastor Moody.
and Voldemort was alive.
but so were they.
so Cedric closed his eyes, focusing on the hands holding his, the heartbeats he could imagine beating in time with his own, and slept.
safe.
sound.
whole.
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johnalexcooper · 3 months
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Unleashing Adrenaline: Discover the Ultimate Rally Test Venue in Wales
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Rally driving is one of the most exhilarating motorsports, offering a unique blend of speed, skill, and precision. For rally enthusiasts and professional drivers alike, finding the perfect test venue is crucial to hone their skills and achieve peak performance. Nestled in the picturesque landscapes of Wales, a premier rally test venue offers the ideal environment to experience the thrill of rally driving. In this blog, we will explore why Wales is a top destination for rally testing and what makes this particular venue stand out.
The Appeal of Wales for Rally Testing
Wales has long been a favourite among rally drivers and for good reason. The country's diverse terrain, ranging from rugged mountains to dense forests and winding roads, provides a variety of challenging conditions that mimic real rally stages. The unpredictable weather, with its mix of rain, mud, and occasionally snow, further enhances the authenticity of the testing experience. This combination of factors makes Wales an excellent training ground for both novice and seasoned drivers looking to sharpen their skills.
Diverse Terrain and Challenging Tracks
The rally test venue in Wales is renowned for its diverse terrain that includes gravel tracks, forest trails, and tarmac stages. This variety allows drivers to practice different driving techniques and adapt to various surfaces. The gravel tracks are perfect for mastering car control and handling, while the forest trails test the driver's ability to navigate tight corners and narrow paths. The tarmac stages, on the other hand, offer high-speed sections that demand precision and quick reflexes.
Authentic Rally Conditions
One of the key advantages of the rally test venue in Wales is the ability to replicate authentic rally conditions. The unpredictable Welsh weather means that drivers can experience a wide range of conditions, from dry and dusty to wet and muddy. This variability is crucial for drivers preparing for real-world rally events, where weather conditions can change rapidly and dramatically impact the driving experience.
Scenic Beauty and Natural Obstacles
Beyond the technical aspects, the rally test venue in Wales is set against the backdrop of some of the most stunning scenery in the UK. The lush green valleys, rolling hills, and dramatic mountain ranges provide a visually spectacular setting for rally testing. Natural obstacles such as rivers, rocks, and trees add to the challenge and excitement, making each run a true test of skill and concentration.
Facilities and Amenities
The rally test venue in Wales is not just about challenging tracks and beautiful scenery; it also offers top-notch facilities and amenities to ensure a comfortable and productive testing experience.
Professional Grade Tracks
The venue boasts professionally designed tracks that meet the highest standards of safety and performance. These tracks are meticulously maintained to provide optimal driving conditions, ensuring that drivers can push their limits without compromising on safety.
Comprehensive Support Services
In addition to the tracks, the rally test venue in Wales provides comprehensive support services to enhance the testing experience. This includes on-site mechanics, technical support, and vehicle maintenance facilities. Drivers can benefit from expert advice and assistance, ensuring that their vehicles are always in top condition.
Accommodation and Hospitality
For drivers and teams staying for extended periods, the venue offers excellent accommodation options and hospitality services. Comfortable lodges, catering facilities, and recreational areas ensure that visitors have everything they need for a pleasant stay. The hospitality staff are experienced in catering to the specific needs of rally teams, providing a seamless and enjoyable experience.
Training and Development Programs
The rally test venue in Wales is not only a place for experienced drivers to fine-tune their skills; it also offers a range of training and development programs for drivers of all levels. 
Novice Training Programs
For beginners, the venue offers novice training programs that cover the basics of rally driving. These programs are designed to build confidence and competence, with experienced instructors providing hands-on training and guidance. Drivers can learn essential skills such as car control, braking techniques, and navigating different terrains.
Advanced Coaching and Performance Analysis
For more experienced drivers, the rally test venue in Wales provides advanced coaching and performance analysis. This includes one-on-one coaching sessions with professional drivers, video analysis, and telemetry data review. These advanced tools and techniques help drivers identify areas for improvement and fine-tune their performance.
Team Building and Corporate Events
In addition to individual training, the venue also offers team building and corporate event packages. These packages are designed to provide a unique and exciting experience for groups, combining the thrill of rally driving with team-building exercises and competitive challenges.
Conclusion
The rally test venue in Wales is a premier destination for rally enthusiasts and professional drivers alike. Its diverse terrain, authentic rally conditions, and top-notch facilities make it the ideal location for testing and training. Whether you're a novice looking to learn the basics or an experienced driver aiming to refine your skills, this venue offers everything you need to unleash your adrenaline and achieve peak performance. The breathtaking scenery and comprehensive support services add to the appeal, making it a truly world-class rally test venue. So, gear up and get ready to experience the ultimate thrill at the rally test venue in Wales.
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Day 162. Wet, wet,wet. #damp #wet #rain #raining #England #englishweather #weather #grey #greymare #mare #Welsh #welshcob #cob #equestrianism #equestrian #equine #animals #animal #animalpics #mammals #mammal #horse #horses #365days #365 #photodocument365 #photodocument365days #photodocument #photodocumentary
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