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dioslesbianwife · 18 days ago

Note

ITS 🐠 ANON HERE!!

could you write headcanons for jofoes and how they act/acted like in school (as students or as teachers up to you!111$!11!)

hii 🐠! totally, it’s fun to think about these guys as students. for the teacher part, there’s a youtube vid that perfectly encapsulates how i think they’d be as teachers, here’s the link: https://youtu.be/3OB_uQh-78I?si=nGOQc85DrPq05gTW

Also sorry for taking a sec to get to these, ironically i just started classes again lol. I try to get to requests within 24 hours but im kinda late here haha. Anyways thanks so much for requesting, this is legit an interesting way to imagine these dudes lol.

••••School headcannons for jofoes! 🏫••••

Dio

Might’ve been homeschooled by his mother, growing up in late 19th century England. Receiving a basic education in core subjects.

Once taken in by the Joestars, acted more as an overachiever who excelled in academics and sports, partly out of his ambitions and partly to rise above his poor background. He would be charming to tutors but manipulative toward Jonathan if they were ever taught together.

Extremely sharp and quick witted. Both very street smart and book smart. Excelled in rhetoric, literature, and debate.

He probably had no patience for authority figures who didn’t respect him. Lessons would have been formal and rigid, following the time period’s emphasis on discipline. I think he would’ve done pretty well in this environment though.

Used his natural charisma to make tutors favor him over Jonathan. If a tutor corrected him or didn’t immediately praise his efforts, he would mask his resentment but stew over it later.

If he’d attended a school, he’d definitely be part of the debate team, rugby team, or cricket team.

Report Card: “An exceptionally bright student, but his attitude toward peers needs improvement.”

Kars

Obviously he’s received no formal education, but definitely self taught through centuries of observation and experimentation.

He’d be a know it all I think. Though he'd genuinely find joy in learning and furthering his understanding of the world. I don’t know how hed do with deadlines though, he’d want to take everything at his own pace.

If he were placed in a modern school when he was younger, Kars would be the intimidating genius who effortlessly aces every subject. He’s the student who reads advanced material for fun. 1000% reads ahead of the class and gets in trouble for it.

Very good in all sciences, especially biology, chemistry, and physics. Would impress everyone with his deep knowledge of history and philosophy.

Doesn’t see the point of school rules and might challenge teachers who he deems unworthy of their positions.

He would join a science club, robotics, or philosophy society.

Report Card: “Unquestionably brilliant, though his disdain for authority disrupts the classroom environment.”

Wamuu

Like Kars, no formal education, but his disciplined and curious nature would make him an excellent student in a modern setting.

The respectful and hardworking student who values fairness. He’d probably struggle at first but improve quickly due to his determination.

Best at physical education, history, and any subject requiring strategy or problem solving.

I think he would find theoretical subjects like advanced mathematics frustrating without practical application.

An absolute beast in track and field or the wrestling team.

Report Card: “A dedicated and disciplined student who leads by example.”

Esidisi

No formal education, though I do think he’d adapt quickly in a modern school.

The passionate student who talks a little too much. He’d be popular but occasionally disruptive.

Honestly I see him doing well in creative subjects like drama or art, where he could channel his energy.

Difficulty staying focused and a tendency to get too emotional when frustrated.

I think he’d somewhat enjoy a drama club or student council.

Report Card: “Enthusiastic, though he needs to work on channeling his energy productively.”

Enrico Pucci

He probably received formal education in a Catholic school his parents placed him and his sister in.

The quiet, disciplined student who always followed the rules. Pucci was probably the teacher’s pet and other students were told to be more like him- a role model for his peers.

Good in theology, literature, and any topics requiring deep thought and analysis.

I think his rigid adherence to rules might make him inflexible in creative subjects.

He’d be a very active participant in choir, the debate team, and/or volunteer programs.

Report Card: “An excellent student with strong moral character and a passion for learning.”

Diavolo

I would assume he might’ve attended a public school in Italy during his youth, though he wouldn’t have had much formal education.

The mysterious loner who rarely spoke and sat at the back of the class. His presence was unsettling to others, and he likely avoided extracurriculars.

Skips classes and often entire school days. There are rumours among the students that he’s part of some sort of gang.

I think he’d actually be good in mathematics and problem solving, as he’s meticulous and logical. Would he use his intelligence to ace his classes? Lmao no.

Definitely lacks social skills. He avoided group work and mistrusted his peers.

No clubs or activities. If he stayed the whole school day, he’s going straight home.

Report Card: “A quiet student with strong analytical skills but no interest in engaging with classmates or teachers. Shows potential but refuses to use it.”

Kira

Probably attended a private school, I’m pretty sure he’s lived in Morioh his whole life.

The quiet, unassuming student who always turned in assignments on time but avoided attention. Teachers liked him, but classmates found him odd.

Makes it a point to get slightly above average grades. Just “normal” enough to blend in.

Precision in subjects like mathematics, chemistry, and music.

Another one who’s poor at socializing. He was polite but distant, never forming close friendships.

I’d see him being part of a music club (piano I think), or chess club.

Report Card: “A diligent and talented student, though he rarely interacts with his peers.”

Diego Brando

I don’t think he had a normal education, if I remember correctly he worked on a farm as a kid and probably didn’t get to go to school at that time. Later on though he might’ve attended school. He might’ve been an outsider among wealthier students.

The competitive, ambitious student who excelled academically and athletically to prove himself. Diego was likely resentful of wealthier classmates and used his successes to spite them.

I think he’d be very good at most sports, sciences, and debate.

Prone to jealousy and conflict with peers. Probably gets in a lot of arguments and challenges his classmates.

Part of an equestrian team, fencing club, or debate society.

Report Card: “A highly capable and driven student, though his competitive nature occasionally leads to conflict.”

Funny Valentine

Likely received formal education in 19th-century America, maybe at a military academy.

The disciplined, patriotic student who excelled in history and public speaking. Valentine was a natural leader and respected by peers and teachers alike.

I can see him lecturing other classmates on how important and great America is. He probably bought into a lot of war and nationalist propaganda directed towards youths in his time. Often telling other students about his dream to become the President someday.

Great in history, government, and oration.

One weakness is how his single minded focus on his ideals sometimes makes him dismissive of differing opinions.

Part of the debate club or student government.

Report Card: “A dedicated and inspiring student with strong leadership potential.”

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mayblossomss · 4 months ago

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Whumptober Day 3: Set Up for Failure / I Warned You

Crickets chirped outside and the only light in the house came from the lamp on Ponyboy's desk. The boy sat hunched over in his seat, hair falling and covering his face as he scribbled away messily in his notebook.

Sodapop, who had been sleeping in Ponyboy's room ever since the younger boy's nightmares had begun, sat up from where he'd been lying and watched his brother scribble away relentlessly. After rubbing at his tired eyes, he addressed him. "You comin' to bed anytime soon?"

Ponyboy's pencil didn't quit writing away even as he replied. "Yeah, soon."

"How soon is 'soon'?"

"I don't know. When I'm done going over this lesson."

Soda sighed while Pony kept his back to him. He watched him with worry, knowing his brother was overworking himself. "It's late, kid. Is the studying at this hour necessary?"

Pony hummed, chewing at his lip as he hesitated to reply to a practice question. "I've got a quiz tomorrow, and exams are coming up."

Shaking his head, Soda frowned deeper. "Come on, Pony. I'm tired. Turn off the light, already."

"Yeah, I will. Just one more second."

"Pone, you're going to crash."

Ponyboy froze, pencil hovering above the sheet of paper he'd been writing on. "What?"

"The way you're going, I mean," Soda clarified, noticing how his brother's body tensed at his words. "You need to slow down or you'll crash out."

"I can handle myself," Ponyboy argued after a beat of silence, dismissing Soda's words with little care. "I'll be fine."

Sodapop's jaw tensed before shaking his head and lying down, facing the wall. "Don't say I didn't warn you, then."

- - -

Weeks passed and Ponyboy's workload intensified until it was too much for him to handle. The day of his exams was when everything went to shit. He entered his first exam's classroom with little sleep and a foggy mind, and his efforts grew lazier for the next three exams he took that day.

A few days went by before he got his tests returned. The marks he received made the boiling emotions within him burst with how poorly he'd done.

Soda got home after a slow day at the DX, ready to lounge around and hopefully gobble down the cake in the icebox, except that's not what would happen. He got home and spotted Ponyboy's backpack and school supplies discarded haphazardly around the living room.

On the table, Soda spotted a few papers and picked them up, noticing right away the bold 'EXAM' titles and their accompanying low marks. 50% on his math one, a 56% on his biology, a 62% in English, and worst of all a 34% in American history.

These were the type of grades Soda would bring home when he was in school, but not Ponyboy. In fact, Soda couldn't recall a time that Pony had ever gotten anything below an eighty!

"Ponyboy?" Soda called out, dropping the exams back onto the table and glancing around the house. He noticed the closed bathroom door and sighed, heading toward it and knocking lightly. "Hey, Pony. Let me in."

There was a shuffle from within the room before a stuffy voice shouted back. "Go away!"

Soda tried the handle, only to discover it was locked. "Pony, unlock the door. It's me."

"Leave me alone!"

"You know I won't do that," he said with a laugh. "Now, come on, unlock the door."

After a few seconds, Soda heard a faint clicking sound and pushed the door open to find his little brother on the floor. His knees pressed up against his chest, and his eyes red with tears.

"Kid..." Soda dropped down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and brought him closer. "You okay?"

"Darry's going to kill me," Ponyboy hiccuped, dropping his head against his knees. "Soda, I only wanted to please him."

"You were only setting yourself up for failure with how you were studying, Pony," Soda murmured, squeezing his shoulder somberly.

Ponyboy sniffled and peeked his head out from where it was buried. "I only wanted to succeed."

"I know, honey."

"I'm sorry," Ponyboy managed miserably. "I'm so sorry."

"I warned you," Soda reminded him as he leaned his head against Pony's. "I told you this would happen. You didn't listen."

"I'm sorry,"

"I know you are."

Ponyboy rested his head against Soda's and closed his eyes, a tear dripping down his cheek. "Are you mad?"

"I could never be mad at you," Soda informed him. "Only disappointed you couldn't listen. Now look where you are."

Another tear slid down Ponyboy's face as he glanced up at his older brother and murmured. "I'm so tired."

Soda's heart clenched in his chest as he frowned. Placing a quick kiss to his head, he repeated tiredly, "I warned you."

#whumptober 2024 #no.3 #set up for failure #i warned you #the outsiders #fanfic #crashing out #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy's tired #overworked #posted this four minutes to midnight but it counts!!#couldnt think of a better idea today yall sorry :(

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autismtana · 9 months ago

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so you wanna write a heartbreak high fic, but you're american (part 2)

Back in November, I wrote this after reading a bunch of Heartbreak High fics. I always planned to write a part 2 featuring some more aspects of Australian schooling, but my own writing, work and personal things (aka mental illness) got in the way.

As with part 1, this is NSW/Sydney specific, as that's where I'm from and where Heartbreak High is filmed and set. People from other states might have different experiences (I know a little bit about Queensland for example, because my parents are from there and most of my relatives went to school there).

If there's anything not covered here that you're curious about, please check part 1 as I may have covered it there, or send a reply.

Extracurricular activities: these are not timetabled during lesson times (some schools have things like Friday afternoon rewards but those don't really count). They're generally just for fun and a way for kids to socialise. What extracurricular activities are available depends on what the teachers at the school are able to run but aside from competitive and social sport, these are things like debating, mock trial (fake court cases, highly recommend, very fun), music ensembles like choir/jazz band/orchestra, then there are some academic things like Tournament of Minds, coding, streamwatch. The more academic activities are generally more selective, especially if there's a competition aspect like ToM. Extracurricular activities have absolutely no bearing on whether or not a kid will get into uni, although depending on what they are, they can be good to put on a CV for jobs. There are also no limits on how many extracurricular activities a student can do (there's no "oh he chose basketball instead of orchestra as his extracurricular" ... he can do both, they're also usually not running at the same time). Sydney schools tend to run more activities than regional/rural schools because the public transport system means that it's easy to get to and from places outside of school hours. Non-metropolitan schools tend to run things during recess/lunchtime so there's a limit on how many things kids can do.

Sport: most Australian kids participate in some form of sport. The most common ones are: soccer, cricket, netball, rugby league, AFL, touch football, athletics, swimming, basketball and tennis. Private schools often offer things like golf, rugby union and sometimes even skiing, rowing and equestrian. Hartley High has a group of cheerleaders and, like with the uniform thing, this is extremely rare. Cheerleading is a thing in Australia, but it mostly happens through clubs, kind of like gymnastics. It's more common for girls here to just be involved in a more conventional sport instead (usually netball, which, in my opinion, is the most boring sport in the history of the universe, but is pretty popular in Australian schools; league tag is also extremely popular in more regional areas). Depending on how big the school is, Aussie kids who play sport either get involved with school teams or local club teams, and they tend to range from more social/fun to more competitive, particularly as kids transition from the juniors into the older age groups. Some schools might not necessarily have school teams but will scrounge up a representative team for inter-school competitions (so this would be like if the inter-school basketball competition team wasn't necessarily the school basketball team but was just made up of the best 10-12 basketball players that tried out or signed up). Other schools have more competitive teams that compete against other schools. Schools in NSW have to do a mandatory amount of hours of physical activity, so some schools will let kids choose a sport for a certain amount of time to do during that time (this might be when the competitive teams compete). Club sports generally happen on Saturdays and Sundays (for me, AFL was Saturday, soccer was Sunday, rowing was Saturday morning if we didn't have a regatta that week). Kids who excel at a particular sport might get to participate in NSW combined high schools (CHS). Some of the more "prestigious" schools are part of athletic associations like GPS and CAS. In terms of post-school, I know very little about how it works, but all I know is that it's nothing like any of the American systems. We don't have a system like the NCAA here; I know a little about the AFL draft but it's too complicated to explain so here's a Wikipedia article about it (I know nothing about how NRL players go pro so don't ask me that). An Australian kid might attract a scholarship to an American university to play sport overseas, but our universities don't work like that.

Student leadership: Generally, all schools have one or two School Captains and one or two Vice Captains (some schools let the whole school vote for captains, but usually they limit it to teachers and the older grades). Then there are House Captains (kind of like the prefects from the transphobic lady's book), and they're usually elected by all the students in that house. They're involved in inter-house competitions which I'll touch on later. Some schools have captains for things like different extracurricular activities. Schools generally have a student representative council with one or more elected representatives from each grade, depending on how big the school is. My school was a Catholic school, so I got to be a Liturgy Representative (and I absolutely put that on my CV when I applied for my first shitty bakery job).

Carnivals: pretty much every Aussie school has a swimming carnival and an athletics carnival. This is where there's a bunch of races (and field events for athletics) and you participate in as many as possible to get house points. Sometimes swimming is only open to more competitive students but generally more people participate in athletics. Most Australian kids have swimming lessons as part of mandatory PE in primary school and in years 7-10 (I got my bronze medallion as part of mine and I'm now a member of my local surf lifesavers group). The house captains rile up their houses and get them to sing war cries to cheer everyone on (my personal favourite was 'how funky is your chicken'). The winning house gets ultimate bragging rights and is pretty much always the red house (they tend to put all the sporty kids in red and the dweeby nerdy kids in yellow for some reason). You get house points for going in events, but you also get them for cheering the loudest or having the cleanest area. Really, it's just a fun way of getting out of classes.

#heartbreak high #fanfic advice #how to write australian characters #how to write about sydney australia #basically a guide to how to write about school in australia if you're american #don't give aussie kids “college scholarships” we don't have those things here

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apoptoses · 11 months ago

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would you be so kind as to explain Daniel as the latin bro tiktoker and how it affects the household dynamic

okay SO off the back of your excellent Marius Discovers Tiktok posts-

Sometimes I like to think about how he originally got on the app because of links that Daniel or Armand or even fuckin Benji sent him, and he'd be patting himself on the back when he figures out how to stitch videos and make his own tiktoks 'correcting' historical information. And ofc because it's Marius he thinks he's the first vampire to be sneaky posting on there and he takes great pride in how modern he's being, doing right by his old Roman ancestors spreading the truth about history, etc etc

Until he finds Daniel's account scrolling his for you page lmao And for those NOT IN THE KNOW there's this dude on tiktok who's studying ancient linguistics and constantly getting stoned and like, rapping in old Egyptian lmao Or translating memes in ancient Sumerian and generally making ancient language shit posts in between actually making education videos where he gently reads people down for spreading incorrect linguistics facts.

and I JUST THINK that would be Daniel lmao He's learned all this history from Marius, all these old dead languages and how they were pronounced and he's bored and wants to do something with that. And he's just so personable that people eat it up, he's got like minimum 60k views on every post.

And it just eats Marius alive hahaha Like on one hand he taught Daniel all that he knows, right?? He's proud that his fledgling's fledgling actually absorbed his lessons and is out there able to put knowledge into the world.

But ON THE OTHER he's burnt up inside about how Daniel gets so many fuckin views and people praising his account in the comments when TECHNICALLY Marius is doing the same kind of stitches correcting people and getting crickets half the time, or horny comments from booktok people who are hot for what a cold, harsh professor he is and aren't actually taking in the facts he's trying to put out there😂

And like he's too proud to ask Daniel how to game the algorithm or what he's doing wrong, and just texts him links to his old Egyptian rap videos with disapproving emoji, and sometimes when they're on the phone he chides him for making a mockery of the great cultures of the past.

(Daniel isn't dumb though, sometimes he throws him a bone and stitches one of Marius's videos being like 'yeah this dude nails it, you guys should follow him'. And Marius doesn't acknowledge the thousand extra followers he gets from that, just tells Daniel he's not required to promote him simply because of their relationship, but Daniel knows that means 'thank you' in emotionally constipated old man)

So YEAH, Daniel's success causes a little tension at first but it settles into something nice because he knows posting something real dumb gives Marius an excuse to gently scold him when they're apart. And like when they're together maybe he takes a sneaky video of Marius trying to set up a fuckin ringlight or something so he can get better video of some old text he has, and Daniel holds onto that draft for blackmail purposes lmao

(Meanwhile Armand is off making 'watch me restock my guest room drawers' videos and everyone in the comments is bewildered by the lack of hygiene items and consumables. Like vampires don't need toothpaste and deodorant and mints, so it's all weird shit like the little toys you get from gumball machines and ink for fountain pens for the vampires who visit who prefer to use tools from the time when they were mortal)

Whew who knew I had so many thoughts on that, I could go for days on this subject lmao

#apoptoses answers #vc headcanons

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marisramblings · 2 years ago

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Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio is a Mess

(Did no one reread the script?)

The Good

The animation is lovely. Let’s get that out of the way. I love stop motion. Pinocchio’s design is fantastically creepy, he’s an annoying little shit, and I liked the death aspects. Positives are done.

The Bad

The plot of this movie is terrible. The story beats and characters aren’t fleshed out, the plot progression is clunky, and the music was unneeded. This movie is about 2 hours long, more than enough time to tell a wonderful story with characters that are good. I felt nothing during the finale because the relationships were not developed.

Let’s start at the beginning. We have a younger Geppetto and his first son, Carlo. The mom and wife? Dead. It’s a cute opening, skip some stuff, Carlo gets blown up and only Carlo, I think. Maximum sadness, etc.etc. Geppetto, understandably, becomes a drunk and is miserable for 5-10 years. A tree grew in the time between Carlo’s death and Pinocchio existing. No one in town seems to have consoled him in any way, but that’s not really a criticism of the movie. He goes all Victor Frankenstein and a creepy blue fairy thing brings our puppet to life. There’s also a talking cricket who I think is just there because the original had one. He’s not magic. There’s just a walking, talking cricket that reads, writes and plays violin. The monkey can also talk, through puppets, but mostly speaks in monkey gibberish. I’m more okay with that than the cricket; I can’t tell you why. It’s a “kids’ movie” but that is doing the work of gods.

The movie sets itself up to be a story of Geppetto working through his grief and accepting that Pinocchio is not Carlo. Pinocchio is learning how to be a real boy. We have one day of him going to school. He is then picked up by an evil carnie. We spend more time with that than developing the relationship between our protagonists. I’m not against this plot point, I just think it could’ve been shortened or been the main focus. I didn’t get a sense of time progressing with Pinocchio and Geppetto interacting in close proximity. Pinocchio dies, we get an interesting death sequence, and then runs away to join the circus because of a contract. I’m paraphrasing. Geppetto misses Pinocchio and I don’t know why. It’s been a week. Am I supposed to believe that this man cares about a living puppet this much so quickly? He travels Italy to find him. With how much history plays a role in the background, you’d think a talking puppet would be burned by the catholic town. Anyway, a whale eats him. The cricket is eaten as well, but I don’t care. He gives a few unearned speeches. He’s trying to live inside Pinocchio. That was a thing.

The movie still has an hour at this point. All of this could’ve been stretched out so we could truly experience this journey.

Anyway, Pinocchio makes fun of Mussolini and is killed. Then the secondary villain kidnaps him so he can fight in the war. We have a brief interlude where Pinocchio spends one day at a training camp and Candlewick, son of 2nd villain, has his character arc. Then the camp is bombed. Candlewick seems more concerned for the puppet he first attempted to incinerate than his dead dad and falls of the face of the earth. Evil carnie comes back, dies, Pinocchio and his new monkey pal get eaten by the whale. The time wasted on fridging Geppetto and Pinocchio’s foray into war would’ve been better spent developing their relationship. While I enjoy the historical perspective, shoehorning in a lesson on “facism is bad” was unneeded. You don’t have the time. The whale is there because of the original story. It could’ve have worked.

Anyway, they escape, Pinocchio dies blowing up Brendan Fraser, and sacrifices his immortality to save his dad. I don’t mind this, I just wish we had a little more focus on the afterlife aspect of the film. It’s really interesting. For some reason, Pinocchio dies despite having no lungs or a heart. Cricket gives an unearned speech to make the fairy bring him back. Seriously, what did Sebastian actually do? He spends most of the film with Geppetto. He taught Pinocchio two things??? At least they were self aware enough to mention it.

The Opinion

I like the movie, and I see it’s potential, but nothing was earned. If its time was better distributed, I think this movie would be a fantastic adaptation with a beautiful story. We spent time on a side character who was barely relevant and literally disappears with no resolution. Fascism also disappears. No one came for the talking puppet? Pinocchio fosters no relationships with the townspeople, he has no discernible arc because immortality wasn’t something he desperately wanted, so…

No one read this damn script. We are thrown lessons that aren’t learned by the characters, plots are dropped like stones and once again, what happened to Candlewick? Did he die? Why don’t we see him grieve over his father?

Score: 4/10 this might’ve worked as a limited series.

Post Script:

Fuck the cricket. What did he actually do? Why is he such a major part?

Don’t give me shit about Pinocchio trading his life to save Geppetto. He was alive and drowned. How does that work???

#pinocchio #guillermo del toro #pinocchio netflix #Candlewick #can Mari spell fascism?#no #mari’s rambles #movie review #this wasn’t spell checked because I’m not paid for this #ps Guillermo supports Roman Polanski #fun to learn

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news365timesindia · 3 months ago

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[ad_1] Daryl Mitchell celebrating with others (PC: BLACKCAPS/X) Subhayan Chakraborty in Mumbai For New Zealand’s men’s cricket team, their topsy-turvy tour of the sub-continent will come to an end with the third Test against India at Wankhede Stadium. It started with a 0-2 series defeat in Sri Lanka, followed by a headline-making washout against Afghanistan in Noida, and is set to conclude with a historic, first-ever Test series win against India. The Mumbai Test presents New Zealand with the opportunity of a clean sweep on Indian soil, something not achieved by any team since 2000. Daryl Mitchell, who kicked off the sub-continent tour with a punchy 57 against Dhananjaya de Silva, Ramesh Mendis and Prabhath Jayasuriya, is looking to end the series on a high. This is the same venue where he scored a stunning 134 off 119 in the ODI World Cup semi-final, albeit to a losing cause. A match-winning, history-making knock here would offer sweet closure to what has been a gruelling couple of months on the road. Some players travel with their families, but for Mitchell, a Manchester United fan, hobbies are crucial. “I wouldn’t say I’m very very good at it but I enjoy it (playing FIFA now EA FC). There are plenty of guys that are better than me at that,” Mitchell tells RevSportz in an exclusive interview. “I’ve enjoyed (gaming) since I was a little kid. Playing those sorts of games like NBA 2K, FIFA, that’s good fun. It’s really important to have a balance,” Mitchell adds. “For me, obviously being a dad of two little girls as well, having my family on tour, as much as we can, around school, that’s important. We make a big effort with the coffee room and have coffee with each other and some boys play PlayStation. When you can’t leave the hotel as much as you could in New Zealand, when you’re over here in the sub continent, you’ve got to find ways to make it fun.” Football is popular among cricketers, and Mitchell is no different. “Devon Conway thinks he’s good, but he’s not great at FIFA. He’s an Arsenal fan, which I’ve got to hold against him. I am Manchester United fan. So it’s been a tough few years for me,” says Daryl, whose father is a former New Zealand rugby union player and coach John Mitchell. In India, New Zealand’s batters have displayed courage and technique to counter the likes of Ravichandran Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja. Players like Rachin Ravindra, Devon Conway, and Will Young have stood out. Despite not having similar conditions back home, the Kiwis have thrived in testing conditions. Mitchell attributes this to observing top players and applying those lessons in international matches and during his IPL stint with Chennai Super Kings. For the Latest Sports News: Click Here Daryl Mitchell and his teammates after series victory (PC: BLACKCAPS/X) “For me, being a Kiwi, growing up and you know, as kids, we got a lot more grass, a lot more bounce. We don’t face a lot of spin. For us, as overseas players coming over, it’s learning in the early part of our careers and trying to work out a game plan. For me, it was watching some of the world’s best players of spin and how they go about it and how I can add to the strength that I’ve already got as a player and try to adapt that to my game,” Mitchell explains. “That’s how I guess I’ve looked at playing spin. We spend so much time over here in this part of the world now with IPL and other series and tournaments that I guess you’re learning (from) and you’re adapting as you go. And the more experiences you have, the better you get,” he adds. Mitchell has taken inspiration from players like Kane Williamson and former Aussie opener Matthew Hayden. Chemistry among the batting unit is also the key. “First and foremost, our own Kane Williamson. I think he’s probably one of the best going around. I’m lucky enough that I show up to work each day and I can learn from the likes of him,” Mitchell says. “Within our own group, we talk a lot about the way Tom Latham sweeps and we all use our own little strengths that we’ve got.

Watching Hayden as a bigger guy, how he went about playing spin although he’s left-handed. Little things here and there and you try and adapt it to your game and see if it works. “It’s something we pride ourselves on. It is the way we adapt to different conditions around the world. It’s not always going to go your way. You understand that. But we’re very clear with how we prepare for these tours and how we want to go about our plans when we’re playing out there,” Mitchell elaborates. “We also talk a lot between each other and bounce ideas off each other. I think that’s what makes us such a close batting unit. We all understand each other’s games inside out. And we can ask, why are you doing this? How do you do that? There’s no judgment. We’re all working together for the same goal, which is really, really cool and (it) makes it a cool group to be a part of.” Mitchell’s IPL experience, even if limited with Rajasthan Royals in 2022, allowed him to refine his game against spin during training. This preparation shone through in 2023 ODI World Cup where he amassed 552 runs at an average of 69. Before that, he had tallied 318 runs at a strike rate of 142.60 in 13 games for Chennai Super Kings. “For me, firstly, to get the chance in Rajasthan (Royals) a few years ago, though I didn’t play much. I was allowed to train a lot and experiment with some things. To take that into the one-day World Cup over here, and as well with CSK and that sort of role at 3-4-5, of having to manage spin in those middle overs. That’s something, I pride myself on and I enjoy,” Mitchell states. Daryl Mitchell and others during the Test series in India (PC: BLACKCAPS/X) Playing at the MA Chidambaram Stadium in Chennai, where dominating spinners can be challenging for a middle-order bat, was a highlight for Mitchell. “It’s an amazing experience to be part of that IPL and then to be part of, to play at grounds like Chepauk. It’s a beautiful ground. A lower and slower wicket which creates its own challenges. It’s about adapting as quick as you can to the different surfaces around the country and trying to find ways to put pressure back on the bowlers,” he says. For all-format cricketers like Mitchell, adapting between white-ball and red-ball cricket is a significant challenge. Shuffling between minor technical tweaks and mentality is crucial. How is tackling spin in white-ball and red-ball different? “That’s an interesting question. I pride myself on for playing all three formats. It means a hell lot more to play Test cricket, but also with the two white ball formats as well. It’s adapting your game. You don’t want to go changing too many things within your game,” Mitchell says. “It’s adjusting your risk-taking, your options and weighing up your times to put pressure on them and when not to. In T20, you take more risks than in Tests. But you still try and put pressure on them when you can. So, yeah, being able to play all three formats is something I’m very proud of and hopefully I can keep doing for a long time to come.” Discussing what makes the New Zealand batting unit special, Mitchell emphasised their cohesiveness and playing with the ‘minds’ of the bowlers. “I think you can see the way that we played as a unit in the first two Tests and hopefully we continue to do in the next Test as we want to keep trying to find ways to not let their bowlers bowl good balls for long periods of time. We want to keep finding ways to put pressure on them and ask them to adapt as well. Yeah, they are going to bowl good balls and you got to trust your game. But at the same time, you want to keep trying to score runs as well.” While the focus is on potentially whitewashing India, New Zealand players celebrated their historic series win after the victory in Pune. “It is nice to create history for our country. It’s something we’ve never done. So, we enjoyed each other’s company that night in our team room, but we also understand that we got a Test match to go and we’ve got another

chance to go about doing what we do out in the field and hopefully, that brings a win and we’ll see what happens.” The IPL retention deadline day became a topic before the Mumbai Test. Mitchell, who had been a consistent performer for CSK in the previous IPL, reflected on the thrill of being part of the biggest T20 tournament. “It’s an amazing experience. It’s something I’m very grateful to have been a part of in the last few years and hopefully I get many more chances in the future. We’re taking on the best players in the world in what is such a massive tournament and the crowds that come with it is pretty special. It’s a pretty cool experience to be a part of.” Observing India’s World Cup-winning captain and CSK’s MS Dhoni has been a learning experience for Mitchell, particularly off the field. “I just really respect how he goes about his business. The amount of pressure that he has on him as the face of a franchise in the country, how he can go about being such a humble, nice, quiet guy and so down to earth. I respect him very highly and I was very lucky to share a changing room with him,” Mitchell concludes. Also Read: A RevSportz Exclusive || “I enjoy the pressure that comes with the job” – Nicholas Pooran on being retained for 21 crores The post Mitchell and the art of mastering Indian conditions appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

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news365times · 3 months ago

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auswalk · 1 year ago

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THE GREAT OCEAN WALK & A GREAT AUSTRALIAN STORY

The story of a place is often lost in time, leaving us to drift through unaware of the past. Or we’re left with names and dates, that don’t really tell us very much.

Which is a shame, as there are lessons to be learned from the past, and behind every dry historical fact there’s often a genuine human story begging to be told. If only we knew who to talk to, and what questions to ask.

On the Great Ocean Walk, for example, when you finally reach the remote, and beautiful, Milanesia Beach, you may notice a little house nestled comfortably into the landscape. Just beyond the grasses at the edge of the beach, it’s white stone walls in stark contrast to the dark green forest rising steeply behind it.

And you may, with a little imagination, be able to see a family spending time there.

“…digging up worms in the sand, using them to catch trout, or eels that dad used to catch sharks while mum was off looking for crayfish. Everything cooked over a bonfire at night, and a game of cricket the next day before heading back to the homestead up the hill, where normal life resumed…”

Yes on looking at that picturesque little cottage, you can easily picture those idyllic family moments playing out in front of those cheery white walls. And you’d be right. That is what happened there, and still does.

What you’d never guess, however, is why that little house was built in the first place. You’d never guess that it was built by a father, to honour his son, who died on the battlefield at Gallipoli when he was only 22 years of age…

A young man goes to war

Eliot Gratton Wilson was working on a cattle station when the first world war began. He was 21, and, you can imagine, full of adventure, as only seven weeks later he signed up, enlisted in the Army and joined the 8th Australian Light Horse Regiment.

On the 25 February 1915 he boarded the Star Of Victoria and sailed to Egypt, and soon after his Regiment was sent to Gallipoli, where he led one of the first waves of attack in the infamous, and deadly, Battle of the Nek.

War correspondent and official Australian historian, Charles Bean, described the fact that anyone reached the enemy trenches in that initial assault, was a miracle. Yet two soldiers did exactly that, and one of them was Eliot.

‘On the other flank, near the seaward cliff, Lieutenant Wilson of the 8th [Light Horse Regiment] also reached the enemy’s trench and was seen sitting with his back to the parapet, beckoning to others to come to him. Shortly afterwards he was killed by a bomb from the Turkish line.’

Lieutenant Wilson died on the 7th August 1915, twelve days short of his 23rd birthday, in a battle that came to be known as ‘one of the bravest actions in the history of the war’. He died along with nine other officers in that charge, and by the time it was over, 154 of the 300 men in his Regiment were dead too. Gone too soon, every single one of them.

A father follows him

John Gratton Wilson was a doctor, politician, farmer, husband and a father, and he was 50 years old when he heard of his son’s death. And, while you never know what goes through a person’s mind when tragedy strikes, perhaps, the fact that he enlisted himself a couple of years later, even at that age, provides some indication of his mindset.

Doctor Wilson served, and survived two years of active duty in the war, and then returned home to build a humble beach house to honour his son. He went on to live a long and full life, passing on at the age of 85, and he’s buried in the Moonlight Heads Cemetery that you’ll also pass, on the Great Ocean Walk.

Now there’s no way you could know any of that, of course, and neither would we if it wasn’t for Georgie Beale, who spent her childhood running around Milanesia Beach, whose great grandfather built that little house, and who we’re very thankful to, for sharing her stories with us.

Growing up on the beach

Her family has lived there for six generations now. They’ve witnessed the changes through time, and often been active participants in the events that have shaped the landscape.

Growing up in a place like that, it seems, sends you in a certain direction in life. Georgie has spent most of her time in conservation and coastal management. She created education programs, bringing school groups down to the coast, showing them what there is to protect in this wild and rugged place.

And now she’s a guide for Auswalk. Taking people along the Great Ocean Walk, sharing the knowledge gained over a lifetime on the coast, and little bits of family history too.

“I feel like this is an accumulation of everything I’ve done, it’s just perfect and I love it.”

“The natural beauty of the place, and the ocean has a strong draw for me. Growing up we quickly learned to both read, and respect the ocean, as it could be very calm and soothing one minute, then wild and dangerous the next.”

The shipwreck coast

Of course, it’s been a wild and dangerous ocean since long before Georgie came along. When sailing to Australia from the ‘old world’, you’d head south along the coast of Africa to begin with, perhaps re-provision in Cape Town, and then prepare yourself for a wild ride as you drop into the roaring 40s, and fly east towards Australia.

When you finally popped out of this highway of the sea, if you were heading toward the east coast you’d be faced with a choice. Go north of King Island, or keep it to your port side and approach the continent further along.

Heading north became known as threading the needle, and it’s a decision that sent 638 ships to the bottom of the sea, that we know of anyway. Indeed Matthew Flinders, who’d seen a fair few things in his day, said he had ‘seldom seen a more fearful section of coastline.’

The Great Ocean Walk takes you along this particularly brutal stretch of water, and there are reminders of the shipwrecks all along, from place names and cemeteries, to actual anchors sticking out of the rock.

Once again there are stories behind it all, and you’ll discover many of them on your way as you walk the 104kms from Apollo Bay on the East, to Port Campbell on the West. And, surprise surprise, Georgie’s family were involved too…

The wreck of the Fiji

The Fiji left Hamburg on the 22nd of May 1891, bound for Melbourne with a cargo of dynamite, whisky and 400 pianos – amongst other less interesting items. Almost four months later Captain Julius Gebauer was the first to swim ashore after she sank, just off Wreck Beach, ironically enough.

Georgie’s great, great grandparents, Christopher Hodgson and Emily Bowker, had obviously witnessed the event and were there to help rescue the survivors.

The good Captain took a shine to their daughter, Ada, and later on referred to her as ‘the girl who first set his heart aflutter’. Unfortunately his advances were not welcomed by the family, but he was infatuated with Ada, and it must have been reciprocated to some extent as they corresponded over the years, sending letters back and forth until the end.

Letters that Georgie still has to this day, a reminder that history is made by ordinary people, doing extraordinary things, driven by love, honour, duty, family and sacrifice. The same emotions that move us today, and, I think, help us connect to history, and truly bring it to life.

As Rudyard Kipling said, “If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.”. I couldn’t agree more.

Cape Otway Lighthouse

Eventually, and not before time, someone decided it would be a good idea to build a lighthouse at Cape Otway, to try and prevent all of these disastrous shipwrecks that were happening on a frequent basis.

You’ll reach it only a few days after starting the walk, and to get there you’ll make your way through the Great Otway National Park, surrounded by some of the most magnificent trees on the planet, the enormous Eucalypts known as Mountain Ash.

Standing tall, and straight, the highest Mountain Ash reaches almost 100 metres into the sky, and only the Coastal Redwoods in Northern California can put them in the shade.

That might not always have been the case though. It’s possible a Mountain Ash was once the tallest tree in the world, but unfortunately, many of the true giants were cut down in the 1800s. They were so big, in fact, that many of their stumps were simply too big to remove. Keep an eye open, you might be able to spot one slowly disappearing into the undergrowth as you head to the Lighthouse…

Built in 1848, the Cape Otway Lightstation was the second lighthouse built on the Australian mainland, and although it was decommissioned in 1994, it’s still the oldest working lighthouse on the mainland too.

There’s an interesting museum that’s worth a visit when you get there, however if you’re completing your trip anytime between June and September, nature puts on a much better show out to sea.

Cast your gaze to the horizon, and chances are you’ll see Southern Right Whales on their way to the warm waters of South Australia, and, if you’re lucky, Humpback whales breaching in the distance.

Now we couldn’t possibly leave the lighthouse, without more of Georgie’s family getting a look in. This time her grandparents, Bill and Ada Gratton Wilson, who were the first to take a car out there, following the Old Coach road that the bullock team used to take supplies out to the Cape.

They drove their Model T Ford on the rocky road, carrying a picnic, car chains and an axe, and when they made it there they were given a nights accommodation in the lighthouse for their troubles.

A natural wonderland

Of course, when you take a week or so to complete the Great Ocean Walk, most of the time you’ll be surrounded by a wild, enduring landscape that simply doesn’t care about history, or the people who once lived there.

A wide variety of native species continue to go about their business, and you’ll see koalas, kangaroos, echidnas, cockatoos, snakes, lizards, eagles, seals and penguins. The natural environment is the overriding wonder in this Great story of the Southern Ocean, but you’ll get to know that story when you walk here anyway.

Some other stories, well, you’d never find out otherwise, and then you’d never learn from the past. And the lesson for me, at least, rests in the walls of that little beach house. All I can think of, is, what a lovely way to honour the fallen. Not with a memorial that you visit sombrely once a year, lay a wreath and pause for a minute’s silence.

Instead, build a house by a beach. Fill it with your family whenever you can, and spend a lifetime creating memories. A house that’s handed down over the generations – creating a space, in a beautiful place, for years to come. Surely that’s a legacy we’d all like to create.

Eliot Gratton Wilson. Born on the 12th August 1892. Died on the 7th August 1915. Lives on forever in the walls of a beach house, and in the hearts of his family. So the next time you walk past that idyllic setting, spare a thought for Eliot, and all the soldiers who gave their todays, for our tomorrow.

#groupguided #selfguided #tours #australiawalks #trails #nature #walks #great ocean road #great ocean walk #great ocean tours

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wiredsearchnetwork · 2 years ago

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Sports: Uniting Nations, Fostering Passion, and Inspiring Greatness

Sports hold a universal appeal that transcends borders, cultures, and languages. They have been an integral part of human history, dating back to ancient civilizations. Today, sports continue to play a pivotal role in society, captivating the hearts of millions worldwide. From fostering teamwork and discipline to promoting physical fitness and mental well-being, sports offer a plethora of benefits that extend far beyond the playing field. In this article, we will explore the significance of sports, their impact on individuals and communities, and the reasons why they hold a special place in our hearts.

1. The Universality of Sports:

Sports news Today headlines as a common language that unites people from different backgrounds and beliefs. Whether it's football, basketball, cricket, or any other sport, the thrill of competition and the passion of fans resonate with individuals across the globe. Sports have the power to transcend cultural barriers, fostering a sense of camaraderie and belonging among people who may otherwise have little in common.

2. Physical Health and Fitness:

Engaging in sports is an excellent way to promote physical health and fitness. Regular participation in sports helps individuals develop strength, endurance, and agility. It encourages an active lifestyle and can be an effective means of combating sedentary habits and the associated health risks.

3. Mental Well-being:

Sports not only benefit the body but also nurture the mind. Playing sports can reduce stress and anxiety, boost mood, and enhance overall mental well-being. The sense of accomplishment and camaraderie that comes from being part of a team or achieving personal goals in sports contribute to positive self-esteem and confidence.

4. Life Lessons and Values:

Sports provide a fertile ground for learning essential life lessons and values. Through sportsmanship, fair play, and respect for opponents, athletes cultivate a strong sense of integrity and ethics. They also learn the importance of perseverance, determination, and resilience in the face of challenges.

5. Community Building and Social Impact:

Sports have a remarkable ability to bring communities together. Sporting events create a sense of excitement and pride among fans, fostering a strong sense of community identity. Additionally, sports can be a catalyst for social change and awareness, serving as a platform to address important issues and promote inclusivity and diversity.

6. Professional Sports and Economic Impact:

Professional sports have a significant economic impact on local and global economies. They create jobs, stimulate tourism, and generate revenue for various industries, from broadcasting and advertising to hospitality and merchandise. Sporting events also promote the growth of infrastructure and facilities, benefiting host cities and regions.

7. Inspiration and Role Models:

Sports icons serve as role models for aspiring athletes and enthusiasts alike. Their stories of dedication, hard work, and triumph over adversity inspire individuals to pursue their dreams and strive for greatness in their own lives. Sports heroes often become symbols of hope and inspiration, transcending generations and cultures.

8. Entertainment and Spectacle:

Sports offer unparalleled entertainment, captivating audiences with moments of triumph, heartbreak, and sheer athleticism. From the Olympics to the World Cup, major sporting events become global spectacles that bring joy and excitement to millions of viewers.

In conclusion, sports hold a special place in the hearts of people around the world. They foster a sense of unity, promote physical and mental well-being, teach valuable life lessons, and inspire greatness. Whether played at the grassroots level or witnessed on the grandest stages, sports continue to impact individuals and communities in profound ways. They remind us of the incredible power of human potential, teamwork, and the enduring spirit of competition that enriches our lives and brings us together as a global community.

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sheetmusiclibrarypdf · 2 years ago

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Galuppi Baldassare Piano Sonata Nr 5, C Major with sheet music

Galuppi Baldassare Sonata Nr. 5, C Major with sheet music

https://vimeo.com/478236673

Galuppi Baldassare biography

Baldassare Galuppi, a key figure in the history of Italian comic opera, was for some time known only through his mention in Robert Browning's poem "A Toccata of Galuppi's." Galuppi's father was a barber and violinist who gave his son elementary music lessons. By the age of 16 he had composed an opera, La fede nell'incostanza ossia Gli amici rivali. It was a spectacular failure; the curtain had to be brought down before the audience rioted. The puzzled young man went to the composer Benedetto Marcello to try to find out why. The mentor took him to task for daring to write an opera before he was ready, and made him promise not to compose anything for three years, but to undertake study with Antonio Lotti, who called Galuppi his best pupil. Galuppi went to Florence to work as a harpsichord player in the orchestra of Teatro della Pergola in 1726. He returned to Venice and formed a partnership with a writer friend of his from school, G.B. Peschetti. His second attempt at opera, Dorinda (1729), was a major success. For the rest of his life he averaged about two operas per year, and they were played of Italy's major theaters. In 1740, the Ospedale dei Mendicanti (which included a conservatory) hired him as music director; he established a superb orchestra and church music for the institution. Meanwhile, Galuppi accepted an offer in 1741 from the Earl of Middlesex to write opera seria for his theater in the Haymarket, London. His first effort was moderately well received, and each successive opera was more popular than the last. On returning to Italy in 1743 he took note of the cutting-edge Neapolitan innovation, opera buffa, and tried his hand at it. After some initial failures these comic operas, too, started to catch on. In 1748 he was appointed maestro of the cappella ducale at St. Mark's cathedral (and in 1762 was promoted to the head position, maestro di cappella, considered the top musical job in Venice). In 1751 the pressure of these positions led him to give up the position at the Mendicanti. His first comic success was L'Arcadia in Brenta, to a libretto by Carlo Goldoni, with whom Galuppi forged a partnership. Galuppi's best operas were played widely in Europe, and he was hired to go to Russia as music director of Catherine the Great's chapel. There he inaugurated an Italian dominance of Russian operatic life that lasted until Glinka's time; in addition, he introduced Western counterpoint into the music of the Russian Orthodox Church. Galuppi returned to Venice in 1768, resumed his duties at St. Mark's, and became chorus master at the Ospedale degli Incurabili. He phased out theatrical work, writing more keyboard music, sacred works, and oratorios. Small in stature, he was described by the touring musical scholar Burney as an "agile little cricket" of a man. Burney also considered Galuppi one of the best operatic composers of the age, and the twentieth century's revival of interest in that era tended to confirm that opinion. His comic operas in particular are built of short, varied vocal phrases, with a strong melodic line and lively rhythms. He was adept at musical characterization and situational thinking. His orchestration was notable; winds mark important moments, and in finales he allowed the flow of string writing to carry the main melodic material while the voices exchange dialogue realistically. Galuppi's keyboard music, including over 130 sonatas, shows a bright, idiomatic, and lively style of writing, and establishes him as a major Italian composer for harpsichord and piano after Domenico Scarlatti. Read the full article

#noten #sheetmusicdownload #sheetmusicscoredownloadpartiturapartitionspartiti楽譜망할음악нотыnoten #spartiti

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xtruss · 2 years ago

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Leaders | Soldiers, Go Home! Pakistan’s Perma-Crisis. Imran Khan, Pakistan’s Most Popular Politician, Must Be Free to Contest Timely Elections

— June 1st, 2023 | The Economist

The One & Only, The Legend of Legends and The Most Honest Politician in The History of Pakistan: IMRAN KHAN!

Imran khan was a terrible prime minister(Bullshit). In office from 2018-2022, the Pakistani cricket star turned populist leader appointed corrupt ministers, locked up his opponents and hounded the press(More Lies and Bullshit). As Pakistanis rapidly went off him (Bullshit.), he peddled desperate anti-American conspiracy theories (Bullshit. He didn’t become American Puppet likes Corrupt Politicians, Army Generals and Judges). Had his government limped on to the general election due later this year, his Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (pti) party would probably have been trounced (More lies).

That is how democracy is supposed to work. Bad governments get summarily ejected. Fear of a reckoning encourages politicians to do better. One government’s failures are a lesson to its successors. Yet Pakistan, tragically, has experienced little if any of that. Its Arrogant Corrupt to Their Cores Army Generals, the Real Power in the Country of 240 Million Since Its Independence in 1947, Have Not Permitted a Prime Minister to Complete a Five-Year Term. Mr Khan, an erstwhile military favourite, was handed power after the generals toppled his predecessor, and was then himself Dismissed last year following an Army-orchestrated No-confidence Vote. Thereby, the generals helped turn a failed politician (Bullshit) into a Populist Hero (Because He is an Honest Man, Not Corrupt like Generals, Politicians and Judges. He Refused to Become a Puppet of the US and the WEST), whose rabble-rousing (Bullshit) has become a threat to order (Again Bullshit), even as Pakistan faces a balance-of-payments crisis (It’s not his Fault). It is a textbook example of the incompetence, as well as power-hunger, of the men who presume to run the world’s fifth-most-populous country.

Were Mr Khan’s party allowed to contest the scheduled election, he would now probably be swept back to power in Islamabad. So the army intervened again. It had him charged (Illegally) with ‘Multiple Crimes, From Blasphemy to Terrorism, and Placed Under de-Facto House Arrest’, and then set about dismantling his party. Thousands of pti activists have been arrested and most of the party’s senior leaders (Under Corrupt Generals’ Gunpoint) leant on to renounce Mr Khan. Whether the Corrupt Generals will even let the election go ahead is unclear.

Pakistan’s woeful governance is a direct consequence of such military meddling. The country’s political parties, as the pti is now demonstrating, are shifting bands of opportunists, their members united by little more than an appetite to capitalise on whatever brief opportunity to get rich the generals afford them. Its governments, formed at the army’s behest and in the knowledge that they are unlikely to last a full term, have little incentive to take tough political decisions. No wonder the current administration of Shehbaz Sharif has balked at the eye-watering tax rises and subsidy cuts that the IMF is demanding for its latest bail-out of Pakistan, which would be the 23rd. The courts, an instrument of army control, are often intimidated and corrupted by the generals’ fixer-spies. Ditto the media.

The cost of the dysfunction is incalculable. Dominated by the agriculturally rich state of Punjab, Pakistan was for a long time a match for its much bigger Indian rival. Its army arguably lost four wars against India, but narrowly. Its cricketers were better than their neighbour’s. In 1990 the two countries’ average income per head was almost the same. Now Indians are, on average, 50% richer than Pakistanis. And whereas India is fast becoming a global power, Pakistan, beset by economic, environmental and social crises that its governments scarcely seem to comprehend, has become a global menace. It is abysmally governed, violent, unstable and nuclear-armed. Owing to the public anger Mr Khan is whipping up, it is now also at risk of civil strife. All this in a country whose population is projected to be more than 100m bigger in 2050 than it is today.

This mess has only one solution. The generals must, once and for all, get out of politics. Pakistan otherwise has no chance of getting the better governments it needs and deserves. The time for this is now. The election should be held to schedule and Mr Khan and his party—unimpressive though they are (Not True, again same bullshit)—be free to contest it. It is for Pakistani voters to choose who should govern them. They could scarcely choose worse than their Turkey-cocking Corrupt to their Cores, Arrogant, Schizophrenic and Boak Bollocks Generals. Those self-appointed guardians of Pakistan have done little except lower, weaken and immiserate it. ■

This article appeared in the Leaders section of the print edition under the headline "Soldiers, Go Home"

#The Leaders #Sodiers Go Home #Rogue and Corrupt Pakistan’s Army Generals #Political Turmoil #Pakistan’s Elections #Imported Government Backed By War Criminal USA #The Economist

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sabraeal · 4 years ago

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House of Stone (Preview)

The fourth and final fic of the Holiday Rare Pair series...or is it? The vote originally selected a full chapter of this fic, but unfortunately...there’s a prequel fic I have to write to really nail down what I want to do. There’s no Zihal in this preview, just some HINTS...and so post-bingo (maybe even post-obiyukiweek?) I’ll be writing an ACTUAL Zihal fic. But until then...enjoy this little sneak peek of a fic series that should be upcoming next year...

In the annals of the kingdom’s histories, before they become the North’s warden, it is said the House of Bergatt once served as its kings; a long uninterrupted line from Dai the Iron-Handed to Kenzo Bent-Knee. Zen would never doubt the words of the court historians-- not where his tutors could hear, at least-- but Tomo classified dolphins as fish, and Kohi was notoriously beneath the thumb of the Wisteria king of his age, and by extension, his Bergatt wife. A little embellishment went a long way over a few centuries.

But he believes every word of it now.

Tariga glares at the boat with such icy derision, Zen half expects the rail to rime over, no matter how humid the sea air. “I don’t understand. Yuris has to have a port. It’s a major part of our trading routes outside the continent.”

“It does.” It sits in the distance, a gentle mound bristling with trees, hunched on the horizon. Kihal told him that from the air it looked like a bird nested in sleep, but on the map it’s just another craggy oval, larger than the others in its chain. “But that’s on the other side of the island.”

“Then why aren’t we going there?” The row boat rattles on the winch, and Tariga’s face blanches a shade whiter, like the snows of Wilant themselves. “It’s better to dock than leave the ship anchored out at sea, isn’t it? The crew would probably appreciate--”

“The crew will be heading back to the port city as soon as we’re off.” By the new shade of pale Tariga discovers, this is not the sort of assurance he’d been hoping for. “The port is on Brecker’s side of the island. Who I’d like to avoid, otherwise he’ll have to invite us to dinner.”

Tariga casts him a dubious glance. “Would that be so terrible?”

“No,” Zen allows, “but then we’d have to go.”

It’s the sort of joke that, in his humble opinion. merits at least a chuckle. Obi might have delivered the line with more aplomb, a little more colorful sarcasm, but his timing was at least solid. At least worth more than the crickets it gets. And it certainly didn’t earn the wide-eyed wariness Tariga aims at him now, as if--

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Mitsuhide says, so mild, from just above his shoulder. “But I was under the impression that Izana asked you specifically to dine with the viscount while we were here. As a courtesy.”

“Ah...” Mitsuhide might never get really, truly angry, but the weight of his disappointment has smothered better men than him. “Yes, he did. But he didn’t say we had to do it right away...”

Even with nearly a decade of service, it will never cease to surprise him how easily his aide can move. A head taller than nearly any man besides his brother and twice as wide in the shoulders, Mitsuhide still springs to his side with a cat’s grace, catching his shoulder before he can slink away.

“But you won’t forget, I hope?” His hand might as well be a yoke for how heavy it sits on him. “Zen?”

“Ah...” If he doesn’t look at him, then there’s no possible way Mitsuhide can see him sweat. “Of course. I would never disappoint my esteemed brother. I just think...it’s better to meet with the Yuris first. You know, for...diplomacy.”

Tariga’s mouth bent into a stubborn frown. “Protocol dictates that you are to introduce yourself formally to the lord of a land before taking up residence.”

If Obi were here, he’d have some choice remarks to make about that. I wouldn’t expect you to know about that one, your grace, he’d probably say, all limbs and sly smiles, considering how easily your brother forgot that little bit of politesse.

He would have had to scold him of course-- one didn’t spout truths with such blithe impunity in the company of lords-- but that would at least save him the trouble of these impromptu etiquette lessons.

“And since you’re the prince royal,” Tariga continues, warming to the subject, “wouldn’t it would be rude if the viscount didn’t also offer to house you and your--?”

“Right, but this is different.” He’s not quite sure how, but surely he’ll be able to invent a reason between the start of his next sentence and the end of it. “The Yuris are a, ah, sovereign tribe, who provide a vital service to the crown, and they would take it as a personal insult if we were to meet with Brecker before coming to greet them.”

Tariga’s pale brows draw tight over his nose. “Sovereign tribe? I thought Yuris as a whole was beneath the viscount, not foreign allies...?”

Mitsuhide’s dark eyes pin him with the sort of look that says, now how do you plan to get out of this one? Zen bites his cheeks to keep from scowling back. Of all the things he’d like Kiki to answer for, leaving him with a suddenly pedantic and intently rules-abiding aide would be at the top.

“Semi-sovereign,” he corrects. “They handle themselves on the whole, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the interests of Clarines.”

His aide shifts, the sternness in his expression turning to the fainest ghost of humor. “I don’t think many of the Yuris would appreciate the insinuation they owed anything to the viscount besides what he earns.”

Tariga, guileless, asks, “And that would be...?”

“Why don’t you ask them when you get there?” Zen suggests. He could use the entertainment after the last few months cooped up in Wilant. “I’m sure the chieftain’s granddaughter would be happy to give her opinion.”

It is a herculean effort not to grin, especially under Mitsuhide’s warning gaze. He keeps it down to a twitch of his lips, easily buried beneath his hand. Kihal would certainly have a long list of ideas, starting with a swift kick in the posterior and possibly ending with being tossed out his own tower, this time not sea-side.

“And all this,” Tariga says after a long moment, “is why we have to go ashore in...these?”

The wind knocks the row boat against the ship’s side, earning a dubious glare from Tariga, the sort that only a lord born land-locked and frozen could.

“Yes.” Zen gives it a pat for good measure, biting back a grin as his aide’s knees quiver. “Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”

No matter how many times he makes he trip to Yuris, Zen can never remember how long the actually crossing takes. In his memory, they are hanging from the ship’s deck one moment, Yuris a hunched, jade shell in the distance, and the next they are at the dock, the tribesmen clapping them on the back. But in truth, well--

“Two hours,” Tariga reports to him as they arrive, salt-soaked and pink, at the dock. “We’ve been rowing for two hours.”

“The crew has,” Mitsuhide corrects, so gentle. “It’s not a short trip.”

“No,” Tariga agrees, “just long enough to boil us for dinner.”

Ah, and that had been another thing he’d forgotten-- as nice as the sun felt on the ship’s deck, wind ruffling through his hair, on the open waters it was no better than a mirror, reflecting the heat a thousand ways. When the wind wound to a lull, cooking seemed an apt description for what occurred in the confines of their vessel.

Zen leaned back in his seat, letting his fingers trail in the bay. The water is clear this close the the islands, like looking through glass.

“Do you see them?” he asks, smiling down at the colorful shapes swimming below. “All those fish, off on their own business, not even aware we’re here. A whole world beneath our feet, and not an inch of it explored by man.”

His newest aide tilts, just slightly, head turning to gaze out mildly across the water. It is the only concession he makes before saying, “Were you bringing that to some point?”

Zen’s mouth twitches; he hides it in the crook of his arm. “It feels like freedom, doesn’t it?”

Tariga sits quietly as the boat bumps the pier, mouth pressed to a thin, white line.

“I’m not sure how to break this to you, Highness,” Tariga says finally, trembling wretchedly in his seat. “I know you believed I would enjoy this excursion, but--” his mouth wrinkles with displeasure-- “I do not love it.”

“But it’s an adventure.” Zen gives him a wide grin. “More fun than sitting up in that old, drafty castle in the middle of the winter snows, at least.”

Tariga lets out a sniff. “I think that perhaps you and I do not see eye to eye on what makes a good time.”

“Oh.” He casts a long glance back at Mitsuhide, who is making a valiant effort to stay sober and stalwart even as his mouth twitches. “I think you’ll come around.”

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #fic: house of stone #ans #I was going to try to at least get to some part of getting on yuris #maybe even some kihal #but 1.5K is a good preview #and now you can see how much fun we're going to have with the Tariga-Zen-Mitsuhide Team Zen #ONE DAY #there's actually two prequels #a mitsukiki one #and an obiyuki one #and i'm hoping to get to the mitsukiki one by the end of the year #WE'LL SEE

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

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Wonderland by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda

Notes: I hope to add a new aesthetic for each chapter because...well work sucks and I need a way to unwind. :)

Substance abuse is a serious issue. If you need help with an addiction, please call The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHS) National Helpline – 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Killian Jones

2 weeks ago

The hotel room was littered with empty bottles of rum and beer, it smelled of smoke, leather, and sex. The naked girl strung out on the expensive leather couch had passed out hours previously from too much drink.

“Lass, do share!” Killian tipped his glass back, the sting from the alcohol had been dulled six drinks previously.

The brunette gyrated on top of his lap, rubbing her center against his naked form. She passed the $100 bill to him and then began slithering a trail of wetness against his skin with her tongue. He pushed her out of his way to lean forward, rolling the bill and inhaling the white powder into his nose, his head fell back against the chair. His eyes closed, letting the feeling wash over him.

The girl continued her duty, eagerly sucking his cock while her hands caressed his chest. Her fingers trailed the flesh on his left arm, and he reached out with his right hand, grabbing a fist full of her hair and yanking her away from him. She stared at him wide eyed. “No, you can touch me anywhere but there.” He growled, shoving her back down to his groin.

He closed his eyes again, getting lost in the swirls of her tongue and the euphoric sensations of her mouth gloriously working his cock. “Mm, Milah.” He groaned.

“Who the hell is Milah?” The girl stopped her eager work.

His eyes blew open, looking down at the dark-haired girl who was staring at him angrily. “Mary?” He said warily. “Nancy?” He pressed his fingers to his head and squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember the damn woman’s name. “Janice?” he said snapping his fingers.

“It’s Abby.”

“Who cares.”

The girl got up from his lap and walked toward her friend who was passed out on the couch. “Fuck you.”

“I already did that, twice, and I don’t seem to remember any complaints, darling.” He leaned over and took another snort. His vision distorting slightly. “Get back over here, it’s not going to suck itself.” The girl reluctantly walked back toward him. “Abby love, please.” He added.

He took another shot of rum as the girl reluctantly returned to continue her task of pleasuring him. “You’re damn good at that love, my heart is absolutely racing.” He groaned, sweat pouring off his forehead.

She stopped her task, “You sure you’re ok, Mr. Jones?”

“What are you bloody stopping for?” He yelled, grabbing the bottle next to him, and tipping it into his mouth. His hand slid onto his erect member, tugging himself to try and reach the release he so desperately needed. “Do I have to do this for you?”

His heart really was racing. The girl stepped back from him, retreating to the couch to try again and wake her friend.”

“Who needs you.” He growled angrily. “I’ll do it my damn self.”

He closed his eyes. Dark hair invading his thoughts. Images racing across his lids.

“I love you Milah.” The scenes played out like a movie on fast forward in his brain. “Why would you do this?” Blurring, bright lights, his headache was blinding him. “Killian, you shouldn’t…” His heart was pounding out of his chest. “Oh God what have I done?” Red lights and rain?

Wait. Was it raining in his room?

Darkness was threatening to swallow him, he was screaming into the night.

“Killian, wake up.”

He could faintly hear someone speaking to him. He tried to respond; words didn’t come.

“Call 911.”

Present Day

Killian watched the land come into view, a bright patch of green over a sea of blue. It was a beautiful sight that he would surely have welcomed if he were here for pleasure.

“At least you’ll have a gorgeous view during your stay.”

Killian glared at the man sitting across from him, gripping the leather handle on his seat. “Yeah, I’m sure sightseeing is the first thing they sign you up for, right after racquetball and cricket.” He grumbled sarcastically.

“I know you’re upset with everyone, KJ, but you know we had no other choice, right?”

Killian looked away, glancing out the window again to focus on the ground as the wheels touched down.

He stood when the plane came to a stop and walked toward the exit. Robin got up and followed him. When he got to the steps he turned around and faced the man. “I think I can turn myself in Dad.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to be here for you.”

“I think you’ve done enough Rob. Go home.” Killian turned and bounded down the steps, grabbing his bag from the pilot, and storming toward the car waiting for him.

“Killian Jones?” The man asked.

“Yup, I’m the lucky bloke!” He said mockingly and climbed into the backseat.

“Welcome to Wonderland.”

“Wonderland? You can’t be serious. What a bloody stupid name.” He mused but the man simply shut the door behind him.

The trip from the small airport only took five minutes, Killian watched the beauty of the island zoom past through the darkened windows of the limo. He slammed back against the headrest and squeezed his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Killian, this has to stop, you almost died this time. Do you think this is what mom would have wanted for you?” “And yet I’m still here.” “Is that what you want? To not be here? Because I can’t decide if this is a death wish or you are just fucking stupid.”

The car came to a sudden halt, he let out a long groan and peered through his eyes. The door opened and he stepped out into the sunlight.

“Welcome to Wonderland Rehabilitation Center, Mr. Jones.” The moment he left the car, he was greeted by a man in a security uniform. “Names Graham, Pleasure to meet you. I happened to hear the call that you were arriving and wanted to greet you personally. Can I just say how much I loved “Seasick”? That song changed my life, man.”

“Oh good, a fan. Splendid.” He said sarcastically as he brushed past the man and up the walkway to the entrance.

He heard the guard’s footsteps behind him. “I checked you in, but you’ll need to meet with Regina.”

“Well point me in the way of this Regina then and let’s get on with it.”

“You’ve found her.” A dark-haired woman was standing at the front desk, her dark suit and heels told him that this was a woman who liked to be in charge. “Regina Mills. I’m the Manager here at WRC.”

“I suppose this is where you read me the rules and tell me how its going to be, scared straight or something, right?”

“Something like that.” She grinned and gestured for him to follow her.

“So, you’ve met Graham, he’s my head of security, so if you step out of line, break any of my rules, I’ll know about it.” She opened the door to her office and sat at her desk, waving her hand to the chair across from her.

“Just tell me what I need to do to get out of here.”

“Ready to leave so soon?” She mused.

“No, just eager to get back to my life.”

“Ah yes, Killian Jones, Mother died when you were four. You lived with your father, Brennan and brother, Liam until you were 17, dropped out of high school when your dad died and started a band with your high school buddy Robin Locksley at 18.” She turned the page in his file. “How am I doing so far?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not here for a history lesson.”

“I wasn’t finished.” She cut him off. “Let’s see, got your lucky break playing in a bar when you were 22, signed to a 1-year contract with Capitol Records. What’s the name of your little band?”

“The Sea Dogs and it’s not exactly little.”

“Ah that’s right. Your 1-year contract turned into a multi record deal, didn’t it?”

“Aye, we won a Grammy, actually.”

“Never really understood your band honestly, the sea doesn’t have dogs. Never the matter, where did I leave off, ah your aspiring acting career. Three picture deal, isn’t that correct?”

He nodded. “Yes, the last film starts production in 6 months. Hence my need to finish this up.”

“You can’t rush recovery, Mr. Jones.”

“Then does this little story have a point, or should we continue wasting my time?”

“The point is, I don’t care who you are. You’re not here on vacation, this isn’t a spa. If you want to leave WRC, I expect you to work for it. You’ll find that we have many special people here. Movie stars, musicians, billionaires, the fact of the matter is, I don’t give a damn who you are. You’re all the same here.” She tossed his file onto the desk. “Addicts.”

His jaw was tense.

“The sooner you realize that’s who you are, that’s when your recovery can start and not a second sooner. Until then you’re just another rich guy hiding from his problems on my island.”

“Well, this was uplifting. Are all the sessions going to be this inspirational because I want to make sure I get my money’s worth.”

“You’ll have individual therapy sessions 3 times a week and group session once a week with Dr. Hopper. There is a cafeteria where you will have all your meals, any medication will be provided to you by Dr. Whale. I understand you are still in the process of physical therapy since the…”

“That is correct, I assume my physical therapy will continue with Dr. Whale also?”

“Yes. There is a gym where you can work out on your down time, as well as yoga classes that are hosted by our recreational therapist and dietician Zelena West.”

“Yoga sounds most interesting.” He mused sarcastically.

“Lights out is at 10pm. No sex of any kind.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“No sex. I would assume that is self-explanatory, Jones or do I need to provide you the rules in a book with pictures?”

“No Ma’am. But 10pm? Honestly, I’m going to miss Big Brother After Dark, and who doesn’t love a good reality show with drama, am I right?”

“I think you’ll find that the sooner you take things seriously, Mr. Jones, the better your stay here will go for you.” She glared at him. “Now if I can just get you to sign some paperwork for me and turn in your cell phone and any personal items into this bag. I will have it locked up so you can gather them when you leave.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tossing it into the bag.

“Did you need to check your messages or send any before you turn it over?”

“Nope, don’t have anyone I care to communicate with.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you are permitted to make your first phone call after completing 14 days of treatment. After that you will have access to the phone in the lounge during the hours of 9am to 9pm.”

“Am I scheduled for restroom breaks as well or am I allowed to take those as necessary?”

She stared a hole through him. “Dr. Hopper is going to have a field day with you.” She chuckled dryly.

There was a knock on the door and a fair skinned man in a white coat poked his head into the room.

“Did you call me for a patient meet and greet?”

“Ah yes, Dr. Whale, may I introduce you to Killian Jones.”

The man stepped into the room and extended his hand, withdrawing quickly when he looked down at his missing limb and swapping the hand he extended. “Nice to meet you. How long has it been?” He asked, pointing to his lack of appendage.

“Long enough to not want to talk about it.” Regina cleared her throat and Killian internally groaned. “Three months.”

“I got the notes from your previous physical therapist so we will continue strength exercises three days a week starting tomorrow.”

“I can hardly contain my glee.”

Dr. Whale exchanged a glance with Regina. “Oh, Dr. Hopper is going to love him.” She nodded with a smirk on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He remarked before turning and leaving him alone with the abrasive woman on the other side of the desk.

“So, when do I get to go to my room to sit and reflect on my life.”

“Ah yes, let me take you to your room now.” She stood, depositing his items in her desk drawer, and locking it behind her. “This way.”

He followed her down the corridor, noting all the windows lining the hallway with views of the ocean. He wished again that he were here for a different reason. “Here you go Mr. Jones.”

He stopped before entering the room. “Jones is fine, Mr. Jones is my father, and he’s no longer among the living.”

“Alright Jones, home sweet home.”

He stepped into the room, more windows looking out onto the island. His eyes settled on the two beds in the room. “Um, I’m pretty sure this is costing me a hefty penny, but care to explain why I need two beds?”

“You must be the new guy.” A man pushed past him into the room.

“This is your roommate, August.”

“Roommate? I thought this place allowed privacy and solidarity.”

“Did I forget that rule, sorry about that. For the first 2 weeks, all patients are paired with someone who has already completed their first 14 days.”

“I don’t need a bloody babysitter.” Lowering his voice and turning toward Regina.

“Think of him more as a buddy.” She appeared to be taking joy in his discomfort and anger.

“I don’t need one of those either.” He growled.

She turned on her heels and started off down the hallway. “Dr. Hopper will see you in 20 minutes. Don’t be late. Your buddy can help you find your way there.”

He clinched his fist, watching the woman click her heels on the tile until she turned the corner and disappeared. He spun around and stepped into the room.

“It goes by quickly.” His new babysitter was sitting on one of the beds reading a book.

“Not quick enough.” He tossed his bag on the empty bed.

“You’re that guy, aren’t you?” He stood up and pretended to look off into the distance. “Ahoy Matey there’s land ahead.” Killian groaned and tossed his clothes into the empty dresser. “Sorry, but you’re pretty recognizable.”

“Fantastic.”

“Secrets safe with me. No one cares who anyone is here anyway.”

“How long have you been here?”

“24 days. You get used to the way things work around here after the first week.”

“Not bloody likely.” He grumbled.

“Hey, don’t fight it, trust me, the first guy I stayed with when I got here has been here 6 months and still keeps breaking the rules, at this rate, he’s never leaving.” Killian thought about his situation. He knew the more he resisted the longer he would be stuck on this island and he wanted nothing more than to leave this place and get back to set.

“Perhaps you have a point. If you would be so kind as to show me to Dr. Hopper’s office, I would much like to get a start on getting the hell out of here.”

He followed the man down the hallways, a maze of rights and lefts until they exited the building and crossed a lush green lawn to a small building on the other side of the complex. “First door on your right.” August pointed toward the building. “Good luck.”

He stepped through the doors and was greeted by a friendly, curly haired man, “You must be Mr. Jones, I’m Dr. Hopper, but you can call me Archie.”

“Killian will be fine, Archie.”

“Alright, Killian, please join me in my office.”

Killian walked into the room, not at all surprised to see the long couch and leather chair. He nervously took a seat on the couch and looked around. “So, uh how does this work, do I lie down, or can we skip that part?”

The man laughed. “None of that is necessary, unless that makes you comfortable. Our sessions will happen three times a week, sometimes I may ask you questions, other times you may feel like sharing, but really, the most important part at WRC is that we make sure you don’t ignore the mental part of your recovery.” Killian shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He had no idea how he was supposed to sit here and share anything with this man, a man he had just met. “What exactly are we supposed to talk about?”

“How about we talk about what brought you here.”

Killian looked at the ceiling. “My bandmate, Robin brought me.”

“Not who, but what was the reason you chose to come to Wonderland?”

Killian laughed loudly. “Chose, that’s an interesting way to put it.”

“And how would you put it?”

“Forced, not given much choice, ordered to come, your pick I guess.”

“And yet you’re here.”

“Yeah, did you know that there’s a moral clause in contracts?” He clicked his tongue in his mouth in annoyance. “Guess I should have read the fine print.”

“So, you’re here because your behavior was deemed to be in breach of contract?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“And do you think your behavior was acceptable?”

“I think my behavior was no one’s business but my own.”

He nodded and then wrote a few sentences in his notebook.

“What? Was that the wrong answer?” Killian said dryly.

“I’m just taking notes, it doesn’t mean that I agree or disagree with anything you have said. I’m merely here to observe your response.” He put down his pencil and looked back at Killian. “Tell me about the night of the accident.”

Killian’s jaw clenched and he formed a fist with his right hand. “I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

“Interesting response. You had attended a premiere for your first movie, is that correct?”

“What were you doing talking to him?” “We were just talking, Killy. He’s your co-star.” “Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.” “Killian, would you stop acting like this.” “I’ll stop acting like this when you start telling the goddamn truth.” “I’m not going to talk to you while you’re drunk.” “No but you’ll fuck him when he’s drunk, isn’t that right Milah?” “Fuck you.”

Killian flinched when he heard the man sit forward in his seat. “This is fucking pointless.” He growled.

“Neverland? That was the name of the movie, right?”

Killian stood up suddenly and began pacing. “How much longer do we need to talk about this today?”

The man shut his notebook. “This is your time, if this is too overwhelming for you on your first day, we can pick this back up in our next session.”

“Thrilling, I can’t wait.” Killian raced out the door, almost sprinting across the lawn before he found a spot against the wall underneath a tree and paused. He leaned against the building trying to calm his breathing. He said he would come here after his detox in order to satisfy his director, but he would be damned if he was going to spend his days baring his soul to a stranger about things he hadn’t even shared with his brother.

He agreed to lay off the drugs, he begrudgingly swore off rum to make everyone happy, but this went too far.

He was going to have to find a way around this therapist BS if he was going to get out of here.

He shoved off the wall and walked back toward his room, pausing as he passed the front desk. Blonde hair and gorgeous legs capturing his attention. “Name, please.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Emma.” She glared at Graham. “Swan.”

“Say’s Nolan in my logbook.”

“Listen asshole, it’s Emma Swan. Update your damn records.”

He licked his lips, working his eyes down to the curve of the woman’s ass. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

Notes:

Here we go again... I will try and post an update once a week. This one will be longer than my last fic and requires a lot more research, so it may take a bit longer to update than MHFLB did.

#wonderland #wonderland fic #stacy's fics #captainswan #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #emma x killian #killian jones #emma x hook #emma swan

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