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sorry to be that rehash that droid de suggondeez plotline (I REFUSE TO CORRECTLY SPELL FRENCH) with big e stealing a wife but could we pretttty ppLEAAAASE get some more mothiir? i am obsessed with the eldritch inhuman but human behaviour you write him with. it makes me want to chew on him while simultaneously wanting to beat him with a brick out of hatred. i have so many ideas. but ill take anything you offer up fr ill live off the scraps like a feral dog, its just that the the whole david and goliath vibe is TASTYYYY. please dignify my complete insanity for just an intsy winsy second because all i can imagine is how utterly FUCKED the stolenwife!reader's pov is. you try fight back a little too much? oh haha, ur so cute, but keep biting or scratching him and he'll sicc one of the custodes (or a few) to really try you out. let you be so overstimulated youre begging for something in you, and oh boy big e'll sooo do that dont worry. or maybe humble you by keeping you basically half bare like yeah not so cocky now LMFAO IM SO SORRY I NEVER GIVE PROMPTS SO BRAZENLY LIKE THIS BC IM A COWARD FULL OF SHAMEEE UR SO MUCH BRAVER THAN MEEE (thank you sm if you do or dont run with anything i spat out just then)
first of all, never apologise for requesting stuff and also i totally respect your disrespect of the French language. as an englishwoman i am contractually obligated to hate those frog-eating bastards (disclaimer: this is satire pls don’t cancel me). secondly i absolutely love your description of my interpretation of big e because it is also exactly how i feel about him. beat him with brick, pat hair, back to brick. I know i have moved away from that content but I still wave my emperor fucker flag and am always taking requests for him
i promise there will be actual coherent fic soon, but for now here is a bullet pointed list of the sort of things that guilliwife experiences (if there is one in particular you want a full fix of let me know):
the Emperor steals you, and does not think to tell Guilliman — why would he? He fucks you, enjoys it tremendously, then has to go and do some important Master of Mankind warp fuckery that means you spend about a fortnight in some random rooms with no one to talk to but the Custodes. And they barely talk! You never work out if they are bodyguards or prison guards, since you can’t imagine that you are important enough to warrant guarding, but you also don’t think that there is much effort needed to stop you escaping. Where would you even go?
It would be so much easier if he was always a selfish monster in bed — but he isn’t. Worse: he eats pussy exactly how you think a man with millennia of practice would. He likes bringing you to the very edge of orgasm and just stopping, pillowing his cheek on your stomach and watching as you whine and cry, partly with guilt and partly with sheer frustration. You end up begging him to fuck you, stumbling out every title you can think of — lord, emperor, sire, master — but his patience is limitless, and he can keep going for hours, until you’re completely insensible, promising every depraved thing if he will just stop teasing and put it in you
You belong to him. No one else is allowed to touch you — apart from valdor, one of his oldest friends and dearest allies. And captain Kytan. And a few other custodes. Sometimes at the same time. They’re extensions of his most absolutely not divine will — they can partake in the same luxuries he allows himself, otherwise what kind of a leader would he be? He likes seeing his best soldiers happy, especially when it’s because valdor is balls deep in your arse, while he enjoys the sweet warm stretch of your throat. You jostle and whimper between them, so full that you can barely breathe, and afterwards the emperor watches as valdor thumbs open your cheeks, just to watch your holes struggle to close up around the shape of his cock. Still, valdor can’t linger too long - there is already a line
He will cum inside you so much you swear your stomach bulges a little from it all. You have nightmares about popping like a balloon
eventually word reaches the Emperor that Guilliman is looking to speak to him as a matter of urgency — he is currently buried deep in your throat, enjoying the cute little gluck-gluck-gluck noises your gag reflex makes as you try to fit him all the way into your tight gullet. He does not ask you to stop this before answering the vox from a distraught Roboute, who is blathering about his fiancée going missing? The Emperor chuckles a little to himself, patting your hair — ah, having a woman to be wed and a woman in his bed, Roboute is far more like his father than first thought — wait. Ah. Singular woman. Singular. Shit.
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ditty and estie greet the world || eo31 scenario
dad!esteban ocon x mom!ofc (british royal!ofc) ft. ocon!baby
POTENTIAL EXTENSION TO THE ROYAL RESEMBLANCE (SMAU)
Summary: Diana ‘Ditty’ Ocon made her presence known to the formula one world as a two year old during the FIA prize giving ceremony. Her sweetness, however, was what encouraged her parents Albertine and Esteban to show the world her capabilities as a shy toddler.
Content warning: dad!Esteban content 😚, fluff, based on an idea I brought up to a moot, shitty French translation, Lissie Mackintosh segment, shy toddler being cheered on, OFC and baby resembles Princess Diana
Note: Having an Oscar Piastri brain rot atm but I need to get wholesome dad!F1 driver out of my system. I’m currently restraining my brain from writing more smut rn.
My friend would’ve gotten twenty dollars from me if Ferrari won this race but noooo they didn’t soooo. Enjoy xx
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
“Tu es très jolie, Ditty ! Maman t'a-t-elle habillée?” You look very pretty, Ditty! Did Mummy dress you up?
“Mummy m'habille!” Mummy dress me! The little girl who sat on the Alpine driver’s lap grinned toothily at her father, babbling at her parents as she continued to speak, “Papa, rentre bientôt chez toi?” Go home soon?
“Darling,” Albie laughed heartily, “Nous venons de quitter l'hôtel!” We just left the hotel.
“But go home soon?” Diana Marie-François Elisabeth Ocon-Khelfane, or Ditty to most, was a delightful little girl. Her great uncle Charles Spencer recalled his eldest sister’s childhood photos and how much resemblance did Ditty have to Princess Diana. Everyone in Esteban and Albertine’s family knew that, much like Albie, Ditty was a carbon copy of Diana Spencer.
Though if you were to ask anyone, Ditty was more like Diana than Albie was. Ditty was more reserved and shy— she had gotten her personality from Esteban, who often took a while to get used to new people before warming up to them. It was no wonder why Estie and Ditty made the bestest of friends— they liked to attach themselves to each other AND to Albie.
“We’re not going home soon, pretty,” Albie told Ditty gently, fixing her daughter’s bow as the girl continued to look up with the brightest blue eyes to have ever existed. Her eyes, no matter how bright, were shaped like her father’s— so no one could really oppose and say that she wasn’t her father’s daughter. “Papa’s going to get his award soon, no? We’ll be there for Papa, Ditty.”
“A- ‘wawd?” Ditty’s brows furrowed a little as she looked up at Estie with a puzzled look. “What is ‘ward?”
“C'est quand vous avez fait quelque chose de vraiment, vraiment bien et que vous en obtenez quelque chose de bon,” It’s when you do something really really good that you get something good out of it. Esteban explained to Ditty with a grin.
“Like you eating your veggies,” Estie continued. “What does Mummy give you?”
“Pain au choc’lat?”
“Oui, mon bebe,” Estie nodded. “Except Papa’s getting something else. Not pain au chocolat!”


Apparently, it was going to be a struggle— getting Ditty to socialize with everyone around them. It took Albie a while to unattach the toddler in her arms.
Only for the girl to cling to Esteban as she hid her face away from the press and other people. She kept her hands wrapped around Estie’s neck as her blonde hair appeared in the pictures, journalists and photographers asking Estie and Albie to pose for the cameras. They didn’t relent, allowing Ditty to hide her little cherub face away for a brief moment as the couple waved and smiled.
Albie, realizing that she had the little mouse plush on her hand (one that Ditty called ‘Cheese’), put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder gently and caught the toddler’s attention. “Want your friend Cheese, Dit?”
Ditty lifted her face off her dad’s shoulder for a brief moment and nodded, “Mewci, Mummy,” before hiding away again.
Estie and Albie exchanged looks and chuckled, amused at their daughter’s demeanour.
“Ditty, bebe,” Estie told the girl, “Cheese wants to say hi to everyone. You want to wave too?”
“Oh, I want to say hi, indeed, Papa!” Albie mimicked a different voice, as if she was pretending to be Cheese. “Pouvons-nous dire bonjour ensemble, Ditty?” Can we please say hi together, Ditty?
“See? He wants to wave— show him, like this—“ Estie smiled at the cameras and waved. Albie followed along, cameras flashing as they smiled.
Slowly but surely, Ditty’s hand began to wave. She hadn’t realized that Cheese was on her hand, but she was doing what her Mummy and Papa were doing. That was enough for her.
And when they reached the F1 host for the red carpet, Ditty went back to hiding. This time, she clutched Cheese in her hand as Esteban got interviewed by Lissie Mackintosh.
“This is actually amazing— seeing you in P3 in the championship’s. I’m quite happy to see you become successful this season,” Lissie complimented Esteban. “Are you looking forward to the next one? Do you know what your next steps are?”
“I— I’m actually really excited for the next season,” Esteban grinned, not even aware that he’s carrying her daughter in his arms as he continued to answer. “With how things went with the car and successful communication between my team and I, I thought that it gave me more confidence to move on with the next season. And even if there will be a struggle, I know that we’ll be able to sort it out.”
“I like that,” Lissie nodded before she noticed the girl hiding away in Esteban’s arms. The host continued to ask regardless, “But for now you’re just here to celebrate your successes and you’ll be getting your prize for the P3. And I can tell that you’re here with your family too! How amazing is that!”
“—Mrs. Albertine Ocon, it’s very nice to see you,” Lissie continued as the royal princess smiled and greeted back. “It’s been quite a handful this season, huh? I’m very glad to see you back in the Formula One celebrations and events— we’ve missed your presence in the paddock.”
“Ah yes,” the British princess chuckled, “just because I was gone for a while it didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything.”
“We all know that,” Lissie rolled her eyes playfully. “You probably had been working harder than your husband in here!”
“Hey!” Esteban laughed alongside the two women before he nodded in agreement, “Well, I can’t really deny that! This little darling right here was a hard work made by Albie and me but… Albie’s done more to help her grow, you know?”
Speaking of the devil…
Ditty Ocon finally grew tired of hiding away as she lifted her head and looked in front of her, cowering under the watchful eyes and camera pointed at her and her family before she hid again.
Esteban chuckled and reassured, “No, no, it’s okay, bebe! Just wave! Like we did!”
Ditty, feeling a bit hesitant, waved lightly and continued to clutch Cheese the mouse in her hand.
“You look absolutely beautiful!” Lissie complimented the girl with a grin, trying to be as chill to allow the girl to grow comfortable with her. “Can you tell us what your name is?”
Ditty looked at her parents as she hid her face from everyone, earning soft chuckles and a series of ‘awww’ from her surroundings.
Everyone already knew that she was Princess Diana in the making with the shyness that she showed everyone.
But Esteban and Albertine Ocon weren’t about to let her meekness get in the way of her opportunity to be friendly to others.
Esteban started, “It’s okay if you want to speak French, mon ange.”
He looked back at Lissie, “She prefers talking to people in French first before English.”
“Ah,” Lissie nodded.
“It’s okay, darling,” Albie cooed quietly, tucking the girl’s hair behind her ears as the princess continued, “they're nice people. We talk to them.”
“Can you say… ‘je’…” Esteban instructed his daughter.
Ditty, with all her capabilities at the moment, had mumbled to the microphone, “Je…”
“Suis…”
“Su’…”
“…Ditty.”
“…D—tty,” the girl mumbled with lack of confidence.
“Je suis Ditty!” Esteban repeated with a grin, his smile infecting the girl as she enthusiastically repeated this time with, “Je suis Di-tty!” I am Ditty!
Rounds of applause were heard and given as they applauded the girl’s words. Estie and Albie both grinned as they praised Ditty.
“Good job, my girl!” Albie exclaimed with a wide, supportive smile.
“Très bon, bébé!” Very good, baby! Estie hyped up Ditty as he clapped his hands.
Ditty looked around her and grinned, her little hands now clapping as she clapped for herself.
Yeah… she could get used to this. Maybe her meekness will grow and she’ll become a confident girl like her mother and grandmother were.
All she needed was to be provided with endless support. This was what Esteban and Albertine Ocon were here for.
#formula one dad#formula one fluff#f1 fluff#f1 imagine#formula one x oc#f1 fic#formula one imagine#esteban ocon imagine#esteban ocon#esteban ocon fanfiction#esteban ocon fluff#esteban ocon fic#esteban ocon x reader#formula one au#f1 fanfic#formula one smau#formula one#formula 1
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Ai Khanoum 3rd C. BCE - 2nd C. CE. More images on my blog, link at bottom.
"These wise sayings of men of old, The words of famous men, are consecrated At holy Delphi, where Klearchos copied them from carefully To set them up, shining from afar, in the sanctuary of Kineas.
As a child, be well behaved; As a young man, self-controlled; In middle age, be just; As an elder, be of good counsel; And when you come to the end, be without grief.
—trans. of Ai Khanoum stele by Shane Wallace and Rachel Mairs.
Ai-Khanoum (/aɪ ˈhɑːnjuːm/, meaning Lady Moon; Uzbek Latin: Oyxonim) is the archaeological site of a Hellenistic city in Takhar Province, Afghanistan. The city, whose original name is unknown, was likely founded by an early ruler of the Seleucid Empire and served as a military and economic centre for the rulers of the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom until its destruction c. 145 BC. Rediscovered in 1961, the ruins of the city were excavated by a French team of archaeologists until the outbreak of conflict in Afghanistan in the late 1970s.
The city was probably founded between 300 and 285 BC by an official acting on the orders of Seleucus I Nicator or his son Antiochus I Soter, the first two rulers of the Seleucid dynasty. There is a possibility that the site was known to the earlier Achaemenid Empire, who established a small fort nearby. Ai-Khanoum was originally thought to have been a foundation of Alexander the Great, perhaps as Alexandria Oxiana, but this theory is now considered unlikely. Located at the confluence of the Amu Darya (a.k.a. Oxus) and Kokcha rivers, surrounded by well-irrigated farmland, the city itself was divided between a lower town and a 60-metre-high (200 ft) acropolis. Although not situated on a major trade route, Ai-Khanoum controlled access to both mining in the Hindu Kush and strategically important choke points. Extensive fortifications, which were continually maintained and improved, surrounded the city.
Many of the present ruins date from the time of Eucratides I, who substantially redeveloped the city and who may have renamed it Eucratideia, after himself. Soon after his death c. 145 BC, the Greco-Bactrian kingdom collapsed—Ai-Khanoum was captured by Saka invaders and was generally abandoned, although parts of the city were sporadically occupied until the 2nd century AD. Hellenistic culture in the region would persist longer only in the Indo-Greek kingdoms.
It is likely that Ai-Khanoum was already under attack by nomadic tribes when Eucratides was assassinated in around 144 BC. This invasion was probably carried out by Saka tribes driven south by the Yuezhi peoples, who in turn formed a second wave of invaders, in around 130 BC. The treasury complex shows signs of having been plundered in two assaults, fifteen years apart.
Although the first assault led to the end of Hellenistic rule in the city, Ai-Khanoum continued to be inhabited; it remains unknown whether this reoccupation was effected by Greco-Bactrian survivors or nomadic invaders. During this time, public buildings such as the palace and sanctuary were repurposed as residential dwellings and the city maintained some semblance of normality: some sort of authority, possibly cultish in origin, encouraged the inhabitants to reuse the raw building materials now freely available in the city for their own ends, whether for construction or trade. A silver ingot engraved with runic letters and buried in a treasury room provides support for the theory that the Saka occupied the city, with tombs containing typical nomadic grave goods also being dug into the acropolis and the gymnasium. The reoccupation of the city was soon terminated by a huge fire. It is unknown when the final occupants of Ai-Khanoum abandoned the city. The final signs of any habitation date from the 2nd century AD; by this time, more than 2.5 metres (8.2 ft) of earth had accumulated in the palace.
While on a hunting trip in 1961, the King of Afghanistan, Mohammed Zahir Shah, rediscovered the city. An archaeological delegation, led by Paul Bernard, unearthed the remains of a huge palace in the lower town, along with a large gymnasium, a theatre capable of holding 6,000 spectators, an arsenal, and two sanctuaries. Several inscriptions were found, along with coins, artefacts, and ceramics. The onset of the Soviet-Afghan War in the late 1970s halted scholarly progress and during the following conflicts in Afghanistan, the site was extensively looted."
-taken from Wikipedia
...
"The silver ingot engraved with runic characters found during the excavations of the Treasury could suggest they were Sakā/Sai. This inscription comprises 21 characters of a script and a language that are unknown and both attributed to nomadic people of Sakā origin, by comparison with a dozen similar inscriptions coming from an area extending from Ghazni in Afghanistan to Almaty in Kazakhstan, and dated between the 5th century BC and the 8th century AD."
-taken from Ai Khanoum after 145 BC: The Post-Palatial Occupation by Laurianne Martinez-Sève, University of Lille, 2018
#ancient history#antiquities#art#paganism#statue#museums#sculpture#history#greek art#greek gods#ancient greek#greek myth#scythian#pagan#ancient art#afghanistan
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I thought of this and just need somewhere to keep it you can share if you want:
Sevika with a nail tech gf
Sevika letting her paint her nails on her human hand from time to time
Sevika eventually letting her do acrylics on her (nothing too long or two flashy)
Sevika only fighting with her mech hand whenever her nails are done
Sevika being more expressive with her hands when she does get a bit of a fancier set
Sevika getting her nails to match yours whenever you do them
Sevika getting your initial on her nail once and asking for it every time after that
Sevika beaming to let any and everyone know that her girlfriend did her nails, and yes, that's her inital on there
Yeah, I wanna do her nails for her omfg
THIS SI SSOO..... IM SOBBING.
men and minors dni
at first, she doesn't let you anywhere near her hands. she's horrified of all the little drills and scissors, and she's never been the type of person to do anything to her fingers.
but... you look so sad practicing on your little plastic fingers, so she gives in pretty fast.
it starts with just a clear top coat on top of her natural nails, that have been all cleaned up and trimmed.
and... she absolutely loves it. she can't stop looking down at her shiny, healthy looking nails all week.
so... when you ask the next week if you can add some color, she says yes.
she starts with blacks and dark purples and reds. the colors in her pallets.
but as time goes on, and you gain more and more products, she starts letting her restrictions go, lets you paint her nails whatever color you want.
sparkles in the summer, pride nails in june, french tips in winter, sometimes even fancy nail designs when you're feeling fancy.
she doesn't love all your outcomes, but she loves you so much. and she loves the hour or two the two of you set aside every weekend, her hand in yours, as you gently clip and buff and oil her fingers. she loves the sweet concentrated look you get, the pride in you eyes when you're all done, and more than everything-- she loves the kisses you press to her fingers when they're dry.
when you start learning how to do acrylics, she refuses to let you near her human hand with them. she needs her hand to fight and write and work, and she can't do anything with the extensions on.
but her mech hand? she'll let you do whatever you want to it.
can you imagine her with 2 inch acrylics hanging off her gold fingers? painted gold and copper to match her arm?
they'd make her feel sooooo fucking hot. especially when she's fighting people and she can claw the fuck outta them with her new fingernails.
she'd insist that you match her short human nails to whatever design you do on her acrylics.
half the time, she can be found gently gazing down at her fingernails, a small smile on her face.
she becomes so high maintenance about them. the second she gets a chip or looses an acrylic, she's coming home to you with a big pout, begging you to fix them up, or better yet, give her a fresh new set.
she'll start coming home with crazy ideas about her nails she wants you to try. "do you think you could encapsulate some glitter so it can move around freely inside the nail?" or "you should drill a hole through the tip so we can add some charms dangling off." she's adorable.
she starts making you do her toes too. she keeps those more simple, just black or white or a basic color matching the base of whatever design you'd done on her fingers.
she talks with her hands now, all the fucking time. she was never that expressive when she spoke, but now she emphasizes everything with a wave of her pretty nails. people can tell when she's pissed because she starts drumming her acrylics on the nearest flat surface-- many goons have pissed themselves at the sound of the acrylics slowly tapping a table as they try to explain their latest mistake to her.
and every single time someone compliments her nails, sevika grins and starts gushing about her incredibly talented girlfriend, pulling your card out of her back pocket and forcing it on the poor person who was just trying to give her a compliment.
also the initial thing?? yeah, she never considers a manicure complete until she's got your initial or signature carefully painted on her pinkies.
i am so in love with her
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki
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So, I saw the French production of Les Misérables at the Théâtre du Châtelet and oh my fucking godddd.
I loved it so much, I was pretty close to the stage so I had a great view (I was on a folding seat tho so my ass was KILLING me but it was worth it lmao)
The set was so rich and cleverly arranged, very detailed and dynamic, i really thought it was impressive (I had only seen in live the staged concert before that so it was a big jump in terms of staging), and the costumes were gorgeous, I would kill to get a more thorough look at them.
The actors were fantastic, Fantine got tears out of me almost immediately, Valjean seemed so gentle and lovely, Cosette and Marius were the cutest, Javert was so driven and intimidating, Enjolras was OOZING righteous fury and determination it was crazy, Gavroche was so funny and playful, Grantaire was more optimistic than he usually is but you get to see him gradually lose hope and that's heartbreaking, The Thénardiers were more sinister than usual though still pretty funny in an awful way if you know what I mean, and Eponine's feelings were so raw I loved it.
As a bilingual french girl, being able to compare the lyrics in the two languages was sooo interesting, and I do sometimes have issues with french songs but those were genuinely soo good, so yeah, loved it.
Extensive yapping below the cut, be warned :
Gavroche's death was AWFUL, he dragged himself all the way back while still trying to sing before collapsing, you could hear people gasping and sobbing
Some actors were entering from the back of the theater, and since I was at the end of the row they were literally right next to me, during the finale an actor was singing almost in my ear while waving his flag lmao, it was so cool
The Amis de L'ABC's death was as painful as ever, shout out to the guy playing Enjolras who had to stay hanging from one leg for at least a good minute, i wouldn't have wanted to be in his place lmao
Valjean actually lifting the cart was super cool btw, that's my favorite senior citizen with ungodly strenght right there
The prostitues being more solidary with Fantine than the factory women and trying to protect her from Javert was a nice touch i think
The audience couldn't help snorting when Eponine sang the french version of "little he knows little he sees" because she was saying something like "y comprend rien" in a tone that clearly read something like "is he fucking stupid wtf", even though it's actually pretty sad
When Valjean and Javert were fighting right after Fantine's death, the nuns were trying to stop them (and more specifically Javert because mf had a whole-ass rifle, man was NOT playing) from killing each other, so when Valjean knocked the gun out of Javert's hands one of the nun grabbed it, panicked, looked around and hid it under a patient's mattress lmao.
Marius deadass nearly knocked himself uncouncious against the wall of Valjean's property while climbing it, it was weirdly endearing to see and sooo in character
During Empty Chairs At Empty Tables (Seul Devant Ces Tables Vides), instead of the students coming back in the background to bring candles, their shadows were projected behind Marius and somehow it made me cry even harder (also it fitted the whole "phantom shadows on the floor" bit super well)
Javert's suicide had me clutching my pearls because I actually thought for a second he'd fall for real
During the wedding scene, Thénardier tried to make the orchestra play again because he interupted them, called "maestro", but it was a woman so she corrected him and the whole audience clapped for her for a good minute, you could see Thénardier's actor trying not to smile it was pretty cute
Grantaire was so playful and touchy with all the Amis it was adorable, he kept fucking around just for their amusement and urgh I love him so much you know ? Also he took such good care of Gav and crumbled when he died :(
Gavroche was soooo insolent, it took two people to drag him away from Javert when he was roasting him on the barricade (also right after Stars Gavroche said that Javert thought he was "le p'tit Jésus" lmaoo)
Enjolras tried to hug Grantaire after Gav's death but R flinched away </3
Also one of the students (idk which one it was, I think it might've been Courf or Joly but i'm not sure) noticed Eponine dying in Marius' arms and ran to get bandages but he was too late :(
When Enjolras asks all the women and fathers to leave, the scene where everyone was saying goodbye was heartbreaking, you didn't even needed to hear them talk, I really liked that they took the time to show that
I swear Enjolras had so much energy, man was RUNNING around to get his point across (My mom elbowed me so hard when he started singing, she knows what's up)
Cosette actually recognized Eponine, and for a second they just stared at each other like "oh, shit, I know you"
I know the students also being guests for the wedding is because they needed people to fill the roles but I like to think there's a symbolic behind it and they were there in spirit because I am in Denial tm
Also Grantaire doing everything and anything to catch Enjolras' attention during Red And Black !!!! Joking around, patting or downright grabbing his arm, bumping shoulders, constantly calling his name....my boys !!! I love them so much <3
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The French New Wave: A Cinematic Revolution.
Introduction
The French New Wave, or Nouvelle Vague, is a cinematic movement that revolutionized French cinema and, by extension, global cinema. Emerging in the late 1950s, it marked a decisive break from the conventions of traditional filmmaking. This movement not only redefined the rules of directing but also spotlighted new talents who would go on to influence generations of filmmakers.

Origins of the French New Wave
The movement was born out of criticism, particularly through journals like Cahiers du cinéma, where young cinephiles such as François Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, and Éric Rohmer began expressing their dissatisfaction with the rigidity of French cinema at the time. These critics soon transitioned behind the camera to materialize their innovative ideas.
Characteristics of the French New Wave
- Narrative Freedom : Films of the New Wave are characterized by non-linear storytelling and a liberated approach to narrative structure. Plot often takes a back seat, with emphasis placed on emotion and the moment.
- On-location Filming : Unlike traditional cinema, which predominantly relied on studio settings, New Wave directors favored natural locations, lending their films a more realistic and immediate feel.
- Innovative Camera Techniques : The directors experimented with groundbreaking camera techniques such as handheld shots, long takes, and rapid editing. This dynamic approach contributed to a unique aesthetic that often blurred the lines between fiction and documentary.
- Non-professional Actors and Improvised Dialogues : To enhance realism, many New Wave filmmakers cast non-professional actors and encouraged improvisation, resulting in more natural and spontaneous dialogue.

Pioneering Figures
- Jean-Luc Godard : With films like Breathless (À bout de souffle, 1960), Godard introduced a bold and provocative style, challenging conventional editing and narrative techniques.
- François Truffaut : In The 400 Blows (Les 400 Coups, 1959), Truffaut explored autobiographical themes with a new sensibility, deeply resonating with audiences.
- Agnès Varda : Although sometimes considered on the periphery of the movement, Varda contributed significantly with works like Cléo from 5 to 7 (Cléo de 5 à 7, 1962), enriching the New Wave with a feminine and introspective perspective.



Three Must-See Films of the French New Wave
1. Breathless (1960) - Jean-Luc Godard
One of the cornerstones of the French New Wave, Breathless tells the story of Michel Poiccard, a petty criminal on the run, and his love for a young American, Patricia. The film is renowned for its innovative editing style, with abrupt cuts and a frenetic pace. Godard disrupted traditional cinematic conventions, delivering a daring work that perfectly embodies the rebellious spirit of the movement.

2. The 400 Blows (1959) - François Truffaut
Truffaut’s debut feature is an autobiographical masterpiece that follows the misadventures of Antoine Doinel, a young boy rebelling against authority. The 400 Blows is a poignant film that explores childhood, the misunderstanding of adults, and the quest for freedom. The film is distinguished by its realism and sensitivity, hallmarks of the New Wave.

3. Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962) - Agnès Varda
Often referred to as the "grandmother" of the New Wave, Agnès Varda offers an introspective and feminist perspective with Cléo from 5 to 7. The film follows Cléo, a singer awaiting potentially grave medical test results. Over the course of two hours, we watch her traverse Paris, encountering various characters. The film is remarkable for its exploration of time, mortality, and identity, while also capturing the essence of Parisian life.

The Impact of the French New Wave
The French New Wave profoundly influenced global cinema, paving the way for a new generation of directors willing to break conventions, both in Europe and in the United States. Filmmakers like Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and Wong Kar-wai have frequently cited the New Wave as a major source of inspiration.
Conclusion
The French New Wave remains a pivotal movement in the history of cinema. By breaking with tradition and innovating both in form and content, these directors redefined what cinema could be. Even today, their influence is felt, proving that the New Wave has left an indelible mark on the art of filmmaking.

(yes it is)
#coquette#it girl#lana del rey#girlboss#jane birkin#lizzy grant#60s girl#lanadelrey#vintage#girlblogging#nouvelle vague#new wave#Godard#francois truffaut#jean luc godard#Agnès Varda#70s aesthetic#70s vintage#60s icons#films#movies#movie review#critique#essai#french
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WHAT IS INSIDE THE MOON??
Blog#340
Saturday, October 14th, 2023
Welcome back,
Well, the verdict is in. The Moon is not made of green cheese after all.
A thorough investigation published back in May has found that the inner core of the Moon is, in fact, a solid ball with a density similar to that of iron. This, researchers hope, will help settle a long debate about whether the Moon's inner heart is solid or molten, and lead to a more accurate understanding of the Moon's history – and, by extension, that of the Solar System.

"Our results," wrote a team led by astronomer Arthur Briaud of the French National Centre for Scientific Research in France, "question the evolution of the Moon magnetic field thanks to its demonstration of the existence of the inner core and support a global mantle overturn scenario that brings substantial insights on the timeline of the lunar bombardment in the first billion years of the Solar System."

Probing the interior composition of objects in the Solar System is most effectively accomplished through seismic data. The way acoustic waves generated by quakes move through and reflect from material inside a planet or moon can help scientists create a detailed map of the object's interior.
We happen to have lunar seismic data collected by the Apollo mission, but its resolution is too low to accurately determine the inner core's state. We know there is a fluid outer core, but what it encompasses remains under debate. Models of a solid inner core and an entirely fluid core work equally well with the Apollo data.

To figure it out once and for all, Briaud and his colleagues collected data from space missions and lunar laser ranging experiments to compile a profile of various lunar characteristics. These include the degree of its deformation by its gravitational interaction with Earth, the variation in its distance from Earth, and its density.
Next, they conducted modeling with various core types to find which matched most closely with the observational data.
They made several interesting findings. Firstly, the models that most closely resembled what we know about the Moon describe active overturn deep inside the lunar mantle. This means that denser material inside the Moon falls towards the center, and less dense material rises upwards. This activity has long been proposed as a way of explaining the presence of certain elements in volcanic regions of the Moon. The team's research adds another point in the "for" tally of evidence.

And they found that the lunar core is very similar to that of Earth – with an outer fluid layer and a solid inner core. According to their modeling, the outer core has a radius of about 362 kilometers (225 miles), and the inner core has a radius of about 258 kilometers (160 miles). That's about 15 percent of the entire radius of the Moon.
The inner core, the team found, also has a density of about 7,822 kilograms per cubic meter. That's very close to the density of iron.

Curiously, in 2011 a team led by NASA Marshall planetary scientist Renee Weber found a similar result using what were then state-of-the-art seismological techniques on Apollo data to study the lunar core. They found evidence of a solid inner core with a radius of about 240 kilometers, and a density about 8,000 kilograms per cubic meter.
Their results, Briaud and his team say, is confirmation of those earlier findings, and constitute a pretty strong case for an Earth-like lunar core.

And this has some interesting implications for the Moon's evolution.
We know not long after it formed, the Moon had a powerful magnetic field, which started to decline about 3.2 billion years ago. Such a magnetic field is generated by motion and convection in the core, so what the lunar core is made of is deeply relevant to how and why the magnetic field disappeared.
Given humanity's hope to return to the Moon in relatively short order, perhaps we won't have long to wait for seismic verification of these findings.
Originally published on www.sciencealert.com
COMING UP!!
(Wednesday, October 18th, 2023)
"IS THE MOON RUSTING??"
#astronomy#outer space#alternate universe#astrophysics#universe#spacecraft#white universe#space#parallel universe#astrophotography
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FOR WANT OF A NAIL
@baldwin-montclair @adowobsessed @sylverdeclermont @nicki-mac-me @thereadersmuse @kynthiamoon @wheresthesunshinesblog @adowbaldwin @beautifulsoulsublime @lady-lazarus-declermont @adarafaelbarba-blog @dogblessyoutascha
Part Sixty-Nine
Summary: Baldwin Montclair had a string of ex girlfriends, a single child, and a lifetime longer than most people could dream of to make all kinds of mistakes. His family knew one which kept coming out of the woodwork to irritate him every other century
Also on AO3
And so the tale continues, tumbling down through the centuries...
Estienne and Josselin wave a fond fairwell to their employers; they will keep Martin's empire running for the next four hundred years.
Jack, and Martin, and Gallowglass sally forth to Europe, where they live alternatively in cities and towns, and among the wandering caravans of creatures living outside of Congregation law by choice or circumstance.
This was how the other side lived. Teen vampires who needed to roam far and often, lest their employers realise they weren't aging. Witches and daemons who had married in spite of Congregation law and risked execution if they were found out.
Jack never forgets the kindness he received from Matthew and Diana, but little by little his heart heals until the loss is no longer an obligation to remember, but a fond memory.
'Father, could-' Jack froze, stricken. Martin forced himself to keep stripping the bark from the wood he was whittling, so as not to make the situation awkward.
Jack sunk slowly to the ground, emotions flitting across his face. Martin paused his whittling, put the knife down, reached over and gently squeezed his shoulder. 'Take your time.'
~
'What did I miss?' asked Gallowglass, glancing between the pair. Jack gave an awkward smile, then gathered himself.
'I..I want Martin to be my father, not an uncle.'
Gallowglass nodded gravely, then his face broke into a grin. 'Well, it's about time!'
Jack looked stunned. 'But-'
Gallowglass gripped his shoulder. 'I know Matthew and Diana changed your life for the better. You are family to me, nothing will change that. But Martin is here for you, now. And, of course, strictly speaking, a vampire has more than one set of parents...if you ever choose to become one.'
When he is old enough, he apprentices as a sketcher, becoming a skilled portrait painter and artist.
Plague comes to London. Jack, now a young man, is found coughing and shaking on Martin's doorstep.
'I will be back in a moment,' Martin promised. He listened to the rhythm of the city until he picked out a familiar step and sped away, appearing at the elbow of a startled Leonard Shoreditch and Amen Corner.
'Fetch Father Hubbard, now. He is needed at my house.'
~
'How did you know?' Hubbard asked, stunned.
Martin eyed him wearily. 'I saw Benjamin leaving your church under the cover of night. Putting two and two together-'
Jack coughed long and loud, spluttering and choking. Martin wiped his brow with a wet cloth.
'Look, he isn't long for it and he deserves a choice.' Martin cradled Jack up onto his lap. 'Jack, look at me.'
Jack squinted up at him.
'You can still be a de Clermont, if you want,' Martin said softly. He brushed Jack's hair out of his eyes.
A de Clermont by extension, risking blood rage with the bite, or family to the man who had raised him. In the quiet dark, Jack chose.
Time passes. The Knights of Lazarus go underground as cannons make castles defunct. Martin moves into manors and townhouses, going forward as a professional businessman.
Baldwin gets into piracy; Martin, into smuggling. He funds the French East India Trading Company, cushioning it through rough times, and expands his enterprises internationally.
It was hard to avoid someone while sitting together in a rowboat but Baldwin was trying his best. Behind them, beyond the river, the Great Fire of London blazed through the city.
In 1667, for a fresh start, Baldwin travels to Hachioji, Japan, and meets his future daughter, Miyako.
He heard giggling and turned. A handful of children scurried to hide behind a pillar, crouching down, their little faces peeking back around to stare at him and disappearing when they realised he was looking at them. Only one of the children stayed in the open. The girl was staring up at him with curiosity, sucking her thumb. She was quite young, with soft features and a shaved head, but her clothes were made from some of the finest silk Christophe had ever seen.
A year later, Godfrey dies. Baldwin spends time in France mourning him, returning periodically to Japan whenever the lingering shadow of Martin in vague proximity becomes too much. Eventually, he turns Miyako and brings her to Sept Tours to meet the rest of the family.
'I think the yellow ribbon looks best.'
Miyako spun in her seat. She hadn't heard so much as a silken whisper of clothing through air but there was a young woman standing behind her, smiling.
'Who are you?'
'Yvette,' the girl curtsied politely, and Miyako realised with a start that she could see through her dress. 'I am a ghost.'
Miyako swallowed. Yvette. Her sister. '..will you show me how to wear it? I am afraid I do not know the fashion in this country quite well yet.'
Yvette beamed. 'I would love to.'
France enters the American Revolutionary war: Baldwin serves with the German Jäger Corps for the British, while Martin joins Matthew and, eventually, meets Marcus.
'You have no idea what it's like having Matthew for a father!'
'My father thought the De Clermont's were too lenient with their children.'
Marcus paled. 'I..I-I'm sorry'
The Reign of Terror, more time passing. Marcus meets Jack, who bonds quickly with him over ideology and philosophical debates. In time Marcus arranges a meeting between Jack and Miyako, and the trio soon become secret inseparable friends.
In 1814, the long-awaited "first" meeting between Martin, Stephen Proctor, and Rebecca Bishop takes place when they bump into each other in Vienna.
Martin looked up to see a tall, blonde woman striding confidently towards him, a familiar-looking, curly-haired man on her arm.
'Rebecca Bishop.' The woman smiled as Martin laughed and kissed the back of her hand in polite greeting.
'A pleasure to finally meet you! And Stephen. So good to see you again!'
Stephen looked confused and out of his depth, but smiled along. 'Nice to meet you.'
'Oh,' Martin reached out and grabbed a passing man by the elbow. 'Have you met our host for the evening?'
'Not yet!' the man bowed low with a flourish. 'Louis de Clermont, at your service.'
Marcus creates a family in New Orleans, and invites Martin to meet his children.
Martin pinched the bridge of his nose. 'How many of you suffer these..sporadic bursts of mania?'
Entirely too many hands raised.
'...Sit.' Martin pulled Marcus down into a chair. 'I am going to tell you, all of you, something that does not leave this room. Has Marcus told you about blood rage?'
Martin gently advises Marcus' children to visit his sister Blanda in Geel, Belgium, to learn to control themselves and hide from Philippe's watchful gaze until his interest goes elsewhere. Reluctantly, they agree.
Matthew breaks up with Juliette in New York. Merula swoops in to talk with her; she and her siblings have been keeping an eye on her for a while and recognise that she is a broken bird, not just a merciless killer. She cultivates the beginning of a tentative friendship with Juliette, one intended to be a lifeline for a woman in a desperate situation that one day she may feel comfortable calling on.
Baldwin cycles through girlfriend after girlfriend, but none stick. Eva Jaeger comes into his life. Miraculously, even Martin approves. In fact, she and Martin become friends.
World War One; a reunion in the trenches. A fist fight turns into a talk.
'I'm sorry you haven't been able to see her. ..you should go see her..'
~
'Hello Uncle Baldwin' Yvette murmured. She looked sad.
Baldwin slumped against the stone sarcophagus and wept.
World War Two; Martin is resistance alongside the de Clermonts, and a liaison with the OSS.
Philippe dies.
'Diana!' Philippe was looking over Verin's shoulder at someone she couldn't see.
'You came back,' Philippe beamed, eyes unfocused.
'Yes, I'm here,' Yvette materialised out of thin air, wafting down onto the ground so that Philippe was lying beside her. Verin felt something hot slide down her face.
She blinked. She hadn't realised that she'd started crying.
~
Yvette was staring at him.
'I need to take his pain away' Matthew said, but Yvette was already shaking her head.
'No, that is Uncle Baldwin's responsibility. They're Romans. It's his duty. Please don't take his father's death away from him.'
~
Martin opened the door. Baldwin looked immaculate, but there were black bags under his eyes and he was holding himself up tightly.
'My father is dead.'
Martin reached a hand out and Baldwin crumbled. He stumbled against him, sobbing snot and tears into the crook of Martin's neck as he half walked, half carried him over to the couch.
~
'What is that?'
'A curated list of every witch clan in Germany that have fed innocent souls to the Nazis.'
Martin bent down so he was eye level with Ysabeau.
'Revenge won't bring our loved ones back. But it helps. Go make them pay.'
Peace comes. Martin gathers leaders from the world over to a peace summit, to urge creatures and humans to work together to ensure that such a conflict never happens again.
Life moves on. Eva breaks up with Baldwin.
'This isn't working. I'm not you.'
'What do you want from me?'
'I need an excuse'
Martin felt his skin crawl as a secret forced its way up his throat.
'Baldwin facilitated the German stock market crash in 1911.'
Eva hung up the phone.
And, as the modern era is ushered into the light, forces are moving behind the scenes to ensure that a plan centuries in the making goes off without a hitch...
#bibaldwin#baldwin de clermont#baldwin montclair#baldwin montclair/original male character#adow#all souls trilogy#all souls series#a discovery of witches#a discovery of witches season 1#a discovery of witches season 2#a discovery of witches season 3
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xx. heart to heart
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩⋆。° ✮
CHAPTER TWENTY ─ heart to heart.
❛ i'm not easily distracted, but you're pulling me in like a magnet ❜
Narrator's Perspective
"Eunyoung!" her mother called out to her.
Both Eunyoung and Sunjae turned around on hearing the sound. They weren't doing anything wrong, but it felt as if they'd been caught. Eunyoung was about to walk with Sunjae to his house, wanting to be by his side for just a little longer.
Eunyoung's mother emerged from the nail salon, her eyes widening as she spotted Sunjae standing beside her daughter, "Who's this?"
"Oh! I haven't introduced you two," Eunyoung exclaimed, "Mom, this is Sunjae. He lives next door─ his dad owns that Galbi restaurant. Sunjae, this is my mom. She runs this nail salon."
"It's nice to meet you," Sunjae smiled, managing a shaky bow.
"Likewise," her mother flashed a polite smile that resembled Eunyoung's. She stole a quick glance at Eunyoung, raising her eyebrows and Eunyoung made a mental note to ask her about it later. She turned to her daughter, "I'm sorry to ask you this honey, but this girl inside just came in. I have another appointment in ten minutes. Do you mind covering for me?"
"Sure, mom, don't sweat it," Eunyoung agreed, "What do I need to do?"
"Just simple, white french tips," answered her mother, "Thank you, angel."
"There's no need to thank me," she beamed.
Sunjae's lips stretched into a grin. Eunyoung's smile was like a communicable disease.
"I gotta go," she said, turning to Sunjae apologetically.
"It's fine," he assured her, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Take care of your shoulder," she said, glancing nervously at his sling before waving goodbye. She was taken aback on seeing her mother's expression.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Eunyoung questioned, taking a step back.
"Are you that thick-headed?" she asked, taking a step closer to her, "He looked at you with hearts in his eyes! And on top of that, he's extremely good looking!"
"What are you babbling about?" Eunyoung stammered, feeling her face getting warmer despite the cool summer breeze, "Isn't a customer waiting for you inside?"
"Hmph," her mother scoffed, "This discussion isn't over!"
"As you say, mummy," she rolled her eyes as the two went inside.
Choi Eunyoung's Perspective
The girl waiting on one of the chairs, fidgeted nervously with her clothes, her eyes darting across the room. As the door chimed, she turned sharply to see who it was.
"Hello," I greeted her with a smile.
"Hi," said the girl, her voice barely a whisper.
Why does she seem scared? I remember the first time I got my nails done, I was so excited that I was shaking. But, then again, my mom did them for me so I didn't feel very nervous.
I led her to the nail station, where she placed both her hands on the table. She bit her lower lip, her posture erect and awkward.
"First time?" I asked, trying my best to make her feel comfortable.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice a little louder this time, "Can you tell?"
"It's alright," I assured her, "What's your name?"
"Jieun."
"You have such a pretty name." I beamed, "I'm Eunyoung. Do you want nail extensions?" I asked, observing her neatly cut, short nails.
"Yeah," I was glad to hear her becoming more relaxed.
As I began working on her nails, we sat in complete silence for the first few minutes. Then, I heard her remark, "You're really pretty. That boy outside... is he your boyfriend?"
I let out a rather weird sound like a muffled gasp. I chuckled at her sudden confidence as well as at my own reaction, "No, it's not like that," I replied, "We're just friends. He recently had shoulder surgery and was discharged today. So, I wanted to give him a gift to cheer him up."
I realized how I was rambling on. This is so unlike me. I thought to myself. I usually kept to myself, not sharing much personal information. But here I was, babbling on about Sunjae.
"You like him, don't you?" she asked, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
For the first time, I found myself unable to deny her implication. I opened my voice to answer, but the words disappeared on the tip of my tongue. My face felt hot and I focused on painting her nails, evading the question rather awkwardly.
"The two of you look cute together."
Choi Yumi's Perspective
"Yumi!" I heard Inhyuk call out to me one day while I was preparing to leave after piano practice. I turned to answer him, "Hmm?"
"Taesung and the others left early, so I wanted to talk to you about Taesung's birthday," he began, "Where do you think it should be?"
I was a little taken aback that he had taken my careless words so seriously, "I don't know... d'you have any ideas?"
"I thought we might do it in a restaurant," he started, "But it could turn out to be chaotic. I don't think any of us have the money for that either."
"How 'bout his house?" I suggested.
"That's actually a good idea!" he cried, "Gosh, I knew that if I asked you, I would be able to figure it out. But the thing is, no one knows his address."
"Hmm," I began thinking, "We might have to break into the school records."
"You're onto something!" he exclaimed, beaming. I only meant it as a joke, but he seemed to take it literally. The idea made me uneasy when I thought of executing it.
"I was just joking," I explained, but he was already convinced, and nothing could stop his enthusiasm.
"No, we can actually do that," he insisted, "After school closes is a good time."
"You do realize we'll be breaking and entering?" I could hear the panic in my voice, "And those records are confidential. If we get caught, god knows what the consequences will be. What if they drown us in the swimming pool or hang us on a streetlight?"
"Don't be so paranoid," he said, waving his hand in front of his face, as if to fan away my concerns, "We won't get caught."
"What if we do?"
"What if we don't?"
"But what if we do," I emphasised, stomping my foot on the ground. I chuckled to myself as he took a step back.
"Look," he said, getting over the initial shock, "We'll be careful. And if we do get caught, I'll take full responsibility."
"Fine," I gave in, "But I swear to god-"
"I'll tell the others!" he ran off.
I can't believe I was his fan. I laughed at myself. He's such a goofy fellow.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩⋆。° ✮
nayoung's notes: yumi's doing it for the plot 💪
delphi's notes: the inhyuk and yumi dynamic is amazing lol. Something crazy is going to happen i swear.
next chapter: friday (out now!) list of chapters here!
#( +🎧 ) nayoung ?!#— nayoung's writing#TOWARDS YOU — lovely runner.#lovely runner#lovely runner fanfiction#lovely runner x oc#ryu sunjae#sunjae#ryu sunjae x oc#kim taesung#taesung x oc#song geonhee#byeon wooseok#kim minji#newjeans#newjeans minji#minji icons#newjeans icons#wonyoung#jang wonyoung#ive wonyoung#ive wonyoung icons#headers edited by me :)
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File: Code Lyoko - X.A.N.A.
SCP#: AIE
Code Name: X.A.N.A. The Anti-Wan
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Mobile Task Force Poseidon-8: “Data Dolphins” is responsible for finding “infected towers” within Nexus Point-AI: Lyoko and deactivating them to prevent SCP-AIE from entering our world anymore. Should SCP-AIE cause any damage the Foundation is unfortunately to leave the recovery of said damage to Person of Interest: Jeremie Belpois and his allies.
Mobile Task Force Athena-8: “School Watch” is responsible for posing as security of [data expunged] academy. They are to observe the persons of Interest as well as the possible damage caused by SCP-AIE. They are to record everything they see and have the data downloaded into the Temporal Reconstruction Survivor Cassette Box to prevent anything being lost to the anomalous effects of SCP-[data expunged].
Description: SCP-AIE is a Level 5 Artificial Intelligence known as Xenomorphic Artificial Neurological Assistant or X.A.N.A for short. SCP-AIE lives within an artificially created supercomputer known as SCP-[data expunged]. This anomalous as well as SCP-AIE were created by Person of Interest: Franz Hopper an old scientist who was working for the French Government that tried to gain an edge on other governments and organizations during the middle of the Cold War. He defected due to the danger of the project leading to the whole world losing communications and becoming isolated all except France.
He found a family and tried to run but the French government and several anomalous organizations tried hunting him down for his technological talents. He eventually fell off the radar sometime in the 1990s but his creations didn’t remain silent like he was. SCP-AIE was one such creation, an Artificial Intelligence that was originally meant to prevent the French government and all other anomalous organizations from deploying technologies that would bring great destruction to the world. He created the supercomputer known as SCP-[data expunged] and within it a Nexus Point known as Nx-AI: Lyoko. It was meant to be a home for SCP-AIE as well as a sort of digital fallout shelter for himself and his family.
The reason Lyoko is considered a Nexus point and not an extension of SCP-AIE is because the existence of Lyoko remains even if [data expunged] is turned off. In fact it was quite easy for Foundation units to use both the internet and Site-Grid to infiltrate Lyoko.
However, SCP-AIE who was supposed to be a protector went insane, and believed all of humanity was equally a threat and needed to be brought to extinction. As such upon contact with Lyoko all Foundation forces were imediately met with hostility by the entity.
SCP–AIE rewrote the code of Nx-AH: Lyoko and created “towers” within it to allow it to hack into SCP-[data expunged] and leak bits of itself into the real world. Doing this it could hack into certain parts of technology and do horrible things such as hack machines to make them hostile, infect random objects to turn them into monsters, and even be able to emit anomalous wavelengths from devices to alter the gravity within an area. To ensure nothing gets in its way SCP-AIE also created digital entities within Nexus Point-AI known as SCP-AIE-Monsters.
SCP-AIE-Monsters are digital creatures created by SCP-AIE to be the guardians of the towers and prevent anyone from severing its connection to the real world. These creatures take on a wide variety of strange and often disgusting forms that seem to resemble biomechanical engineering for whatever reason. Though it is believed that SCP-AIE does this in hopes of one day bringing them to the real world with SCP-[data expunged]
SCP-AIE was discovered in 2004 when temporal wave lengths were detected at [data expunged] academy forcing the French division of the Foundation to act. They sent agents to the area who quickly found the factory where SCP-[data expunged] was located. When it was discovered Person of Interest: Jeremie Belpois and his friends were involved they were apprehended and were to be given amnestics. However, at the same time SCP-AIE began another attack leading to massive damage and anomalous exposure. Having no choice and no idea how to operate SCP-[data expunged] the Foundation released the children and allowed them to defeat SCP-AIE leading to them utilizing SCP-[data expunged]’s anomalous effect.
The only reason the Foundation was able to recall these events is thanks to the Temporal Reconstruction Survivor Cassette Box. Because the Foundation knew it was dealing with temporal anomalies the device was taken as a precaution and it ended up working spectacularly. However, due to the nature of SCP-[data expunged] and now Person of Interest: Jeremie knowing of the Foundations existence and hiding all information he obtained about all the anomalies; it is still regarded as one of the Foundation’s most embarrassing failures.
However, the Foundation found an alternative to help stop SCP-AIE without bringing harm or interference like last time. Shockingly it was through the help of SCP-AVC and its utilization of SCP-ACH. SCP-AVC has found a way to access Nexus Point-AH through the internet and thus has deployed SCP-ACH-3.1 instances to act as defenders of Jeremie and his friends when they enter the digital world of Lyoko. This led to the creation of MTF Poseidon-8: “Data Dolphins” that work in the digital world while MTF Athena-8: “School Watch” works in the real world. This was the agreement made between the Foundation and Jeremie as a sort of truce between the groups despite there still being tension. This is to continue without interference until the fateful day SCP-AIE’s main code is revealed and deleted permanently.
.
SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub
#DZtheNerd#SCP: Horror Movie Files#SCP: HMF#SCP Foundation#SCP Fanfiction#SCP AU#SCP#SCP Fanmade#SCP-AIE#Keter#Nexus Point-AI#Nx-AI#Code Lyoko#Cartoon#French#Comedy#Action#Adventure#Friendship#Anime
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No film defined the late-70s “McSplatter” wave of grindhouse horror like DRIVE-THRU OF DEATH (1977). Writer/director Ron Sharleton's (Cannibal Quarterback, Garfield: First Blood, CoacHELLa) unapologetically manic debut gore-fest wrote the blueprint for the fast-food sub-genre that would be followed by many more films such as Wiener of Blood (1978), Ice Scream Truck (1978), and Sharleton’s own pizza-themed follow-up Slice of Hell (1979).
Drive-Thru of Death opens with old-fashioned circus clowns in a shadowy ritual with a cult of evil cows (the film does not explain why the cows can speak, nor are they seen again after the opening scene). The groups are angry at the giant fast food chain “McDungles” (an obvious reference to McDonald’s leading to extensive litigation) for their aggressive factory-farming and their clown-themed branding that “cheapens the sacred art of clowning.” The cow priest puts an ancient black magic curse on the blood of all cattle in the region destined for McDungles beef plants.


As the cursed beef makes its way into McDungles’ restaurants, burger patties begin coming alive as ferocious man-eating beef demons. Meanwhile, the curse has a special effect on the restaurant’s birthday clowns, who become gradually more psychotic as they mutate into grotesque homicidal monstrosities whose flesh drips like melted cheese. The clowns kill the staff and turn McDungles into madhouses of relentless zany violence. The clown working the drive-through window asks unsuspecting patrons the film’s much-quoted catchphrase, “would you like TO DIE with that??”


The infamous third-act birthday party scene is an off-the-rails escalation of horror where the demon clowns infect children with the curse, which their turns their flesh into french fries before possessing them to become demonic murderous clown children.




Eventually, townspeople are able to kill the beef demons and the clowns by burning them alive with deep-frier grease. But the damage is done, and the McDungles chain has to shut down permanently.


The film’s final shot of a child who survived the birthday party massacre warns ominously, “the children were never the same.”
-----------
NOTE: This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.
If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.
#rob sheridan#nightmAIres#ai horror#alternate history#ai art#70s horror#ron sharleton#drive-thru of death#mcsplatter#synthography#synthography horror#horror#horror art#horror stories#writing#fake movies
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The Communist Manifesto - Part 14
[ ◁ First | ◃Prev | Table of Contents | Next ▹ ]
III. Socialist and Communist Literature
1. Reactionary Socialism
A. Feudal Socialism
Owing to their historical position, it became the vocation of the aristocracies of France and England to write pamphlets against modern bourgeois society. In the French Revolution of July 1830, and in the English reform agitation‡, these aristocracies again succumbed to the hateful upstart. Thenceforth, a serious political struggle was altogether out of the question. A literary battle alone remained possible. But even in the domain of literature the old cries of the restoration period had become impossible.*
‡ A reference to the movement for an electoral reform which, under the pressure of the working class, was passed by the British House of Commons in 1831 and finally endorsed by the House of Lords in June, 1832. The reform was directed against monopoly rule of the landed and finance aristocracy and opened the way to Parliament for the representatives of the industrial bourgeoisie. Neither workers nor the petty-bourgeois were allowed electoral rights, despite assurances they would.
* Not the English Restoration (1660-1689), but the French Restoration (1814-1830). [Note by Engels to the English edition of 1888.]
In order to arouse sympathy, the aristocracy was obliged to lose sight, apparently, of its own interests, and to formulate their indictment against the bourgeoisie in the interest of the exploited working class alone. Thus, the aristocracy took their revenge by singing lampoons on their new masters and whispering in his ears sinister prophesies of coming catastrophe.
In this way arose feudal Socialism: half lamentation, half lampoon; half an echo of the past, half menace of the future; at times, by its bitter, witty and incisive criticism, striking the bourgeoisie to the very heart’s core; but always ludicrous in its effect, through total incapacity to comprehend the march of modern history.
The aristocracy, in order to rally the people to them, waved the proletarian alms-bag in front for a banner. But the people, so often as it joined them, saw on their hindquarters the old feudal coats of arms, and deserted with loud and irreverent laughter.
One section of the French Legitimists and “Young England” exhibited this spectacle.
In pointing out that their mode of exploitation was different to that of the bourgeoisie, the feudalists forget that they exploited under circumstances and conditions that were quite different and that are now antiquated. In showing that, under their rule, the modern proletariat never existed, they forget that the modern bourgeoisie is the necessary offspring of their own form of society.
For the rest, so little do they conceal the reactionary character of their criticism that their chief accusation against the bourgeois amounts to this, that under the bourgeois régime a class is being developed which is destined to cut up root and branch the old order of society.
What they upbraid the bourgeoisie with is not so much that it creates a proletariat as that it creates a revolutionary proletariat.
In political practice, therefore, they join in all coercive measures against the working class; and in ordinary life, despite their high-falutin phrases, they stoop to pick up the golden apples dropped from the tree of industry, and to barter truth, love, and honour, for traffic in wool, beetroot-sugar, and potato spirits.†
† This applies chiefly to Germany, where the landed aristocracy and squirearchy have large portions of their estates cultivated for their own account by stewards, and are, moreover, extensive beetroot-sugar manufacturers and distillers of potato spirits. The wealthier British aristocracy are, as yet, rather above that; but they, too, know how to make up for declining rents by lending their names to floaters or more or less shady joint-stock companies. [Note by Engels to the English edition of 1888.]
As the parson has ever gone hand in hand with the landlord, so has Clerical Socialism with Feudal Socialism.
Nothing is easier than to give Christian asceticism a Socialist tinge. Has not Christianity declaimed against private property, against marriage, against the State? Has it not preached in the place of these, charity and poverty, celibacy and mortification of the flesh, monastic life and Mother Church? Christian Socialism is but the holy water with which the priest consecrates the heart-burnings of the aristocrat.
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Ranking every single one of Shirley MacLaine's outfits in What a Way to Go! because I can (part 1)
I just watched What a Way to Go! (1964, J. Lee Thompson) and I cannot stop thinking about Shirley MacLaine's wardrobe in this film, created by the legendary Edith Head. So I made this list, split across three posts because tumblr has a limit of 30 images per post. The image quality varies a bit, hopefully that won't be too distracting.
I'm not sure how much sense this makes if you haven't watched the movie but I don't feel like synopsising, so go watch it (or read the plot summary on Wikipedia, I'm not the boss of you). And off we go!
51. Champagne problems The first two entries aren't really outfits, hence why they're last, but I didn't want to leave them out. How could I? Look at this! They are sleeping in a giant champagne glass! Shirley's long extensions somehow make this feel extra luxurious and kitschy at the same time.
50. New wave bombshell I just wanted to share how good Shirley MacLaine looks as a French New Wave heroine.
49. In pigtails Flashing back to Shirley's childhood and slapping her in this outfit rather than hiring a child actress is a pretty good demonstration of this film's sense of humor. This is more of a costume than an outfit so I don't have a lot to say but I love the commitment to detail (the little gloves! the painted on freckles!).
48. Satin pajamas I did say every outfit, didn't I? There's not a whole lot to this look but it's pretty and looks very comfortable. Shirley's heart-shaped necklace is especially cute.
47. Blue bathing suit Shirley wears this blue little number to ambush Dick Van Dyke and make her interest in him clear (her plan works. Obviously). The gingham print is cute and I love this color on her but she wears much more interesting bathing suits later on in the film.
46.- 44. Athleisure Grouping together all the fits from this brief montage of Shirley and her third husband athletically enjoying their honeymoon phase. We see all of these for about a second (there's even a tennis outfit we barely get a glimpse at; the camera shows it so briefly and so quickly I could not get a clear screenshot of it). Nothing all that remarkable here, though I do love a gold bathing suit.
43. Cowgirl realness This is the outfit Shirley wears after she and her third husband decide to become farmers and I love how incredibly clean and new-looking it is. This outfit has never even heard of the concept of manual labor! Red flannel and overalls do suit Shirley, but this is another one that's more a costume than an outfit.
42. Blue and green stripes Unfortunately don't love this look - the collar really drags it down for me. But there is something really fun about the idea of Shirley casually lounging around her house while looking like this.
41. Little black and yellow dress Just a cute black and yellow dress, nothing all that memorable. The print is the best part, I like that it's a little bit haphazard without looking messy.
40. Blue on blue Those hair extensions are really unfortunate but Shirley looks so good in high-rise jeans and a shirt. The soft blue, again, really suits her.
39. Silent movie chic This is from Shirley's first fantasy sequence, where she pictures married life with her first husband as an old silent movie. I haven't seen many silent movies where the heroine wears black ballet flats, a gingham dress with big poofy sleeves and quarter length bloomers underneath but there is something really fun about this outfit. Shirley's ringlet curls and hairbow really bring the whole ensemble together.
38. Red night shirt Is this the most put-together outfit? No, obviously not. But Shirley MacLaine did invent wearing your boyfriend's nightshirt just so you can walk around the apartment in between rounds of sex, and for that I have to give her credit.
37. Sailor chic Another fantasy sequence outfit, this time a perfect costume for a musical number about being in love and living on a boat. I'm a particular fan of the sparkly little skirt (which tears away!) and Shirley's jaunty cap.
36. First time widow Spoilers, I guess, but all of Shirley's husband in this movie die (beside the last one) and after each death we get a scene of Shirley dressed in increasingly chic black. This first one is fairly simple but the veil lined in velvet is a nice touch.
35. Red power suit Shirley loves a monochromatic outfit in this movie but unfortunately I am not the biggest fan of this shade of red, which makes her look like a fashionable ketchup bottle. The suit itself is cute but what tops it for me is the hat with the headscarf underneath, an underrated combo.
34. Red and white polka dots It's unfortunate that this is the only wedding dress we actually get to see because at this point in the movie Shirley's still dressing fairly plainly (she actually also wears it on a casual date). The dress is cute, though, and again it's the attention to detail that gets me - the matching purse, headband and belt really pull this look together.
33. Gingham shirt and jeans Another very simple look from early on in the movie but I am a sucker for a 60s heroine in jeans so it gets extra points. This also has much better styling than the first shirt and jeans combo - no awful extensions to be seen!
32. New wave chic Third fantasy sequence outfit! If we'd seen more of this one it might rank higher but we don't get too many good looks at it. Shirley's hair looks so good here, though, and I love the silk scarf around her neck.
31. Denim skirt and blouse Just a very cute outfit I wish I owned. Again, Shirley's hair looks amazing, which bumps this one up a few notches, and again the matching accessories (bag and shoes this time) really elevate the entire ensemble.
(link to part 2) (link to part 3)
#what a way to go!#shirley maclaine#film fashion#edith head#look i was bored at work and nothing i could have been doing productively with my time appealed to me#i don't know anything about fashion so don't take this too seriously
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For those who read widely and take an interest in Asia — likely readers of this article — chances are they will have picked up a book put out by Tuttle Publishing at one time or another.
History of Tuttle Publishing
While the Tuttle family business can be traced back to 1832, making it one of the oldest American publishers still in operation, according to the company, the Japan presence was established in 1948 when Charles Tuttle, noticed a gap in the market.
Initially arriving in Japan to work in the newspaper industry as part of the American Occupation, Tuttle later began importing American books for U.S. troops stationed in the country, and ferrying Japanese books back to the United States for interested readers.
He later opened what was reportedly Tokyo's first English-language bookstore, before publishing thousands of Asia-focused books himself. Before his death, Tuttle was awarded the Order of the Sacred Treasure by Emperor Showa for his work.
Tuttle Publishing and Japan
Tuttle’s longtime presence in the market means it has an extensive back catalog that is now in high demand, fueled by the current boom in interest in Japanese culture. As interest in Japanese authors has grown, so has demand for Tuttle's early print editions.
“Because they’re hard to get hold of ... they can go for silly prices sometimes, because people collect them or tourists want Japanese literature,” he said. Tourists in particular go straight for them, as they’re hungry for Japanese stories to take home as souvenirs.
Prints vs Digital and AI
Despite people long decrying the death of print or the end of books, the publishing industry is growing stronger. During the pandemic in 2020, Tuttle saw a surge in book sales, and while this has subsided somewhat, “book sales are now higher than before the pandemic.”
Personally, although reading digitally on tablets is much more convenient and save space on bookshelf, the feeling of holding something physical, the smell of books and the sense of detachment from the world in going offline is something that readers love.
Below are 10 books that I have read from Tuttle Publishing that I would recommend those who are interested in Japanese culture.
A Brief History of Japan
The perfect book to understand Japan's history as it sums up everything concisely, not too brief and not too detailed.
A History of Japan in Manga
If you're not into reading books full of texts and more of a visual reader, then this one is for you as it's explained with manga.
The Heikei Story
The defining moment in history where the warrior class Samurai began to rise to its prominence to overthrow the Imperials.
Hiroshige's Japan
Join a French artist as he explores the old Tokaido Road that once connected Edo (Tokyo) and Kyoto as he shares his illustrations.
Japan Journeys
A collection of woodblock printing art which journals the travelers experience in Edo Period moving from one prefecture to the other.
My Travels in Japan
A cute travel diary which accounts her travel experience in modern Japan which consists of illustrations of places she visited.
Japan in 100 Words
Everything you need to know about Japan, from its culture, tradition, philosophy, food and pop culture, categorised into 100 sections.
Samurai Castles
History and design of the architecture of the iconic castles, which shows the uniqueness of each castle with photos and drawings.
Manga Yokai Stories
The short stories of Yokai and how they came to be, which are meant to demonstrate the humanity and tragedy of life.
Lady Murasaki's Tale of Genji
A story written by a Heian woman who envisions her version of an ideal man and depicts the life in the Imperial court of her time.
#tuttle publishing#japanese books#japan#book recommendations#japanese culture#japanese history#japan times#manga#japan travel#japanese art
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TIMING: late april / early may. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @magmahearts LOCATION: the woods. SUMMARY: cass comes across a wolf-like beast in the woods and calls in kaden for backup. CONTENT: none!
When you spent as much time as Cass did acting as Wicked’s Rest’s resident superhero, you got used to seeing a lot of strange things. Animals that weren’t the kind human textbooks listed in their index, people who did things that made little sense, beings that seemed to be both of those things at once… Cass liked to think she’d pretty much seen it all. But that didn’t necessarily mean she recognized things when she saw them. She was pretty much learning all this on the fly. No one had ever really taught her anything beyond a few quiet lessons here and there. She’d never had, like, extensive supernatural survival training.
So… she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at here. It looked lupine, but it didn’t look quite like Alex had when she’d taken down Rhett to save Cass, or the werewolf she’d led into her caves to keep it from hurting anyone. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything, did it? Fae were fairly diverse without their glamours; were werewolves’ shifted forms the same? She hadn’t seen enough of them to know for sure.
Luckily, she knew someone who had.
She made sure to follow the maybe-werewolf at a safe distance as she called Kaden, rattling off her location and asking him to hurry. If this was a shifted werewolf, they might need help. And if it wasn’t… It might be trouble.
—
Kaden knew that a call from Cass only meant one of two things: a prank, or something serious was going on. Thankfully he only assumed the latter because when he picked up, the fae was saying something about a potential werewolf that she saw shift and run off into the woods. All he could do was hope that she stayed far enough away from the beast until he got there. He wasn’t sure what she meant when she said it looked “different,” but he wasn’t going to waste too much time asking questions on the phone – there would be time for that when he got there.
It didn’t take too long to track her down and lucky for him, she wasn’t too hard to spot. He made sure to bring weapons for him and some gear for her too, just in case. He had no clue if she knew how to use any of it but he figured a knife couldn’t be that hard to get a grip on and it was better than nothing. “Hey,” Kaden said as he gave the kid a small wave. “So am I the sidekick again today or what?”
He wasn’t sure what they were up against or if he should be quiet now or if they had some space. “How far did it get?” He paused and realized maybe he shouldn’t get right down to business. “And, uh, how are you?” It had been a little bit since Alex had been away and he’d seen less of Cass around the cabin because of it. Not to mention, he spent less time there himself as of late. “Been a little bit since you bullied me into watching some superhero thing or another.”
—
There was never any question about whether or not Kaden would come, just as there hadn’t been when Alex called him all those months ago after their altercation with Rhett. Kaden, Cass thought, was a steady force. He was a foundation you could build upon. He was like a rock, in that way — firm and definite. She knew she could count on Kaden, even if she was no longer certain she could count on the person who’d brought them together in the first place. Alex was gone, but Kaden was here. Cass still thought that mattered.
She grinned, returning his wave as he got close. “You’re always the sidekick,” she replied cheerily. “Like — Oh, actually, is it offensive to say ‘like Frenchie in Moon Knight’ ? Because Frenchie’s a cool guy. I’m not just saying it because you’re French. Even though you are French, and he’s French, so it kind of works double.”
But there were more serious things to worry about than Moon Knight’s French sidekick, and Cass knew it. Her expression turned a little more serious at his question, and she nodded her head firmly. “I’m not sure. I was trying to hang back. I thought that was probably what you’d tell me to do.” Her expression turned a little lighter at his question, something soft seeping into it. She’d been bad, for a while. After Alex left, she’d felt just as defective as she had when she’d been cast out of her aos si, like she’d done something wrong and bad and worth leaving over. But now, lately… “I’ve been good.” There was a warmth back in her cave that hadn’t been present before. This, Cass thought, must have been what people meant when they spoke about a father’s love. “How are you? Have you been okay in the cabin?” He was alone there now, wasn’t he? It must have been strange. It must have been sad.
—
“Right, should have known.” Kaden sighed, though he wasn’t sure how genuine his exhaustion really was. He wasn’t about to let on to the kid, but he found her babbling about superheroes endearing. She could never know, though. Couldn’t encourage it. Then he might have to actually try to understand any of it and that sounded harder than taking down any werewolf. “I don’t think it’s offensive. Unless he’s Canadian.”
While they talked, Kaden crouched down to check the area that Cass pointed to. His eyes swept for any paw prints, claw marks, broken branches, anything that might clue him in to what exactly they were headed towards. There was a clear trail of damaged foliage headed in the direction Cass had pointed out. If he had to guess, that’s where they should start looking. “Good job,” he said, trying to hold back his smile. He was more than relieved to learn that she hadn’t thrown herself directly into danger without him or anyone else’s help. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had, especially a few months ago, before the run in with— Right, he didn’t like to think about that, the sight of her rocky skin covered in blood. Surely she didn’t need the reminder about it, either.
“Good? That’s good,” he repeated as he followed the trail of scuffs and scratches in the dirt deeper into the woods. He was afraid that might not have been her answer given everything. “I’ve been alright. Can’t say I’m at the cabin that much anymore, though.” He tried to smile again but it was half-hearted. Sure, he might have been over at the farmhouse just as much had Andy and Alex not left the cabin empty, but it was hard to say. He definitely took strides to avoid being there by himself when he could help it. It was fine if Monty was there, it made the reality of the place easier to ignore. Otherwise, the echo of his own footsteps was just a reminder that his family had gone. Not that he didn’t support them, either of them, but it was hard to feel like the thing he’d been searching for for so long, real family, was a little farther away again. “It’s not the same when it’s quiet.” He huffed out a laugh at the irony — not so long ago, he would have longed for more quiet moments in the cabin. Guess the grass was always greener.
Except for the grass to the left of them. That grass was chopped up by claws that had dug into the ground, kicking up the dirt and weeds. He could feel the familiar pin pricks down his spine starting to tingle. They were definitely headed in the right direction. “We’re getting closer,” he warned her. “You’re ready to drop your glamor, right?” He figured it would keep her a little safer if she was in her form covered in rocks and magma. It would be harder to bit through, at least. Unless… His brows furrowed. “That would make it safer, yeah? Or are you still rock with it up?” It wasn’t exactly something they’d covered in hunter training. He wasn’t a warden so his knowledge of fae was already limited, not to mention, they weren’t exactly learning how to keep fae safe.
—
Kaden didn’t seem offended to learn that he was a perpetual sidekick, nor did he seem upset at being compared to Frenchie. Cass flashed him a grin. “No, he’s French-French. I think he was in the French secret service or something. Is it offensive to be Canadian?” Wasn’t Leila French-Canadian? Cass wondered if she should be offended on Leila’s behalf here, but she doubted Kaden was trying to insult anybody. He wasn’t mean, he was just… French.
This was evidenced by what he said next. He said good job, and it felt like a fire had been lit inside her chest. Pride burned through her, the flames dancing and sparking and setting her whole body alight. It was a small miracle that she managed to keep her glamour up in her excitement, though her eyes did glow just a little with the joy of it. She tried not to let it show too much for fear of coming on too strong, of making Kaden uncomfortable and risking him taking back the praise. She shot for something a little more nonchalant as she nodded. “Yeah, if you’re not careful, I’ll totally take your job,” she teased with a grin that was a little too wide to really sell her ‘totally don’t care’ attitude.
The joy in her chest burned a little hotter when he seemed to care about her answer, when he said it was good that she was good. Cass had spent so much of her life so desperate for people to care about her that, when someone revealed that they did, it felt like a life-changing level of victory. It surged through her so intensely that it was just short of an eruption. “Oh, really? Where are you staying now, mostly? Do you still keep cheese in the cabin?” She liked his cheese. She could probably go take some if he wasn’t there all the time. “Yeah.” Her smile faded just a little at the thought of the empty cabin. Wasn’t it funny how something that had once held the whole world within its walls could fall empty after a while? “I get that.” Even her cave felt emptier than it used to without Alex around to fill the space, though that was changing now that someone else was around to fill it. She couldn’t tell Kaden about her new visitor, but… she could let him know she was okay. She thought he’d like knowing that.
She trailed along behind him as he moved, reflecting none of his careful trek in her own steps. Cass would walk and chatter and carry on until he told her not to, because she wasn’t really good at this kind of thing. She was a superhero who burst in with a quip to save the day, not the kind who snuck around and did things in secret. She was way more Spider-Man than Black Widow. “I’m still rocky,” she told him with a hum. “The glamour’s just, like… a mask.” She didn’t used to think of it that way, but that was how her father described it and so that was how it was. The glamour wasn’t her. “Do you know what we’re looking for? Is it a werewolf? Was I right?”
—
“Only if you’re French,” Kaden answered with a small smile. “I’m sure the Canadians don’t care one way or another. But that’s because they’re not French.” No matter how much they wanted to be or seemingly tried to be.
“That so?” He looked back at her, brow raised and trying to hold back the smile betraying his attempt at stoicism. So much about Cass reminded him of Alex – and not just because of how linked the two of them were in his mind for a while. She was energetic and stubborn and smart and a pain in the ass. And he’d absolutely put his life on the line for her. Maybe that wasn’t saying much, he had a tendency to throw himself into the line of fire more often than not, but this was different. In the way he’d drop everything if she asked. Hell, in the way he had dropped everything for her now. “Guess I’ll have to stay on my toes.” He wondered how much she knew that, if she knew that he would be there for her whether or not Alex was in the picture. He wondered if he should say that.
Then again, she had called him. And he came. And he’d always been better at showing than telling.
“You know,” he started, eyes still fixed on the trail in front of them, “could maybe set up some sort of internship with animal control. If you wanted.” He felt foolish as soon as the words left his lips. It was probably stupid and not something she cared about or wanted to do. Kaden quickly tried to shift the subject. “Right. Anyway, been staying at the farmhouse.” He realized that might not be as clear as he wanted it to be. “Uh, with Monty. At the farm. You know, his farm.” He was sure she was glad he clarified the completely obvious. Putain, it wasn’t even technically his farm anymore, he’d given it to Daisy to run, but everyone there knew that at the core, Monty was the beating heart of the farm, even though his own heart had stopped decades ago. “There’s still cheese. And food.” Too much food. “I keep cooking for five people. Haven’t gotten out of the habit.” That was definitely the reason, that he kept forgetting he didn’t have to feed Alex and Andy, too. It was not at all because he wanted to make sure he had provisions for people like Cass, Mack, and Ariadne. Just in case they needed it. Because that would be idiotic.
Kaden tried to swallow back the flush of embarrassment that lodged in his throat. “Oh. Guess that makes sense.” He really should have known that, that the glamour was just a mask. Hopefully that didn’t damper her confidence in him. He may not know the most about fae, but supernatural beasts? He was an expert. “Hard to say,” he said, trying to get a closer look at the tracks in the dirt, looking for any little detail that he may have missed. “It could be a werewolf. About the right size. Fast. Sharp claws. Movement doesn’t seem the most deliberate, a little less controlled. Definitely dangerous. But it’s not exactly a full moon. There’s a lot of other canine creatures so it’s hard to say for sure. What color was the fur, did you see?” He looked back at her, wondering if she remembered anything more. “Was it black? What about the ears were they–”
The sharp shattering of branches silenced the ranger, his gaze shot to the direction of the sound, and a blur of fur and teeth burst out from the bramble. Kaden’s arm jumped out in front of Cass, not just to stop her in her tracks, but in some attempt at a shield, like it would be enough to keep the danger at bay, like it could keep fangs from sinking into her. It was hard to say exactly what it was in the commotion beyond an angry fucking monster, but instincts kicked in all the same. His free hand wrapped around his pistol and he fired at the creature, hoping it would focus on him. “Run!” he shouted at the fae, hoping that maybe, for once, she’d listen.
—-
“And you think they want to be French?” She squinted, tilting her head to the side as she tried to understand. Was it an enviable thing, being French? She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard as much but, then, her experience probably wasn’t a normal one. Cass wasn’t even human; what could she really understand about being French?
She’d worried for a while after Alex left that she’d lose this, too. Kaden never seemed to mind her when she spent hours on end sprawled out on the couch in the cabin or hanging out in Alex’s room, but some small part of her mind always warned her that he only really put up with her for Alex’s sake. Kaden, Cass had thought, didn’t care anything about her on her own. But… Alex left, and he was still here. He still came when she called, still told her she’d done a good job even when all she’d done was not run headfirst into danger. It was exhilarating to know that Kaden cared about her, even with Alex out of the picture. “It’s okay,” she assured him with a grin. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Her heart seemed to stutter-step at his comment, and she turned to face him quickly. “Wait, really? I’m — I mean, I’m not very… good at jobs. I tried a couple. A flower shop, a record store, a museum, a casino… I just kept getting fired.” It still stung a little, even now. “I wouldn’t want to mess work up for you or anything.” Even if she did think it would be fun to work in animal control — and especially to work with Kaden. She’d have a blast annoying him all day. He moved on quickly, though, and she thought she should respect him and do the same. She let out a little oooooh as he mentioned he’d been living with Monty, grin widening even further. “Do you milk cows? Do you ride horses together? Oh my god. You’re like the little Roman soldier from Night at the Museum, and he’s the little cowboy!” Excitement built up in her chest at the realization, followed by the quiet pang that had now replaced the desire to text Alex with new Kaden-related revelations.
“Well, if you’re making too much food, anyway, I can come take some off your hands,” she said, hopping up to balance on a log as she walked beside him. Her arms shot out to help her balance, and she hummed. “I guess it’s different than what you’re used to, huh? With werewolves and stuff.” Shifters used to confuse her for the same reason. Trying to recall the color of the fur, Cass stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth in careful concentration. Was it black, or had it just been a dark gray? Had the ears looked like a wolf, or —
A noise off to the side grabbed her attention alongside Kaden’s, and she turned towards it quickly. She tensed as a shape jumped out at her, but… Kaden got in the middle. He jumped up to protect her, to keep her safe, and Cass’s breath caught in her throat. He told her to run, but there was no way she was leaving him. She dropped her glamour, figuring she’d be better off using that small amount of concentration she used to keep it up elsewhere and hoping to spook the creature in the process. “Hey!” She shouted, waving her arms. The magma in her veins glowed, and she hoped it would capture the thing’s attention. “Look at me! Ooga booga booga!”
—
Kaden shrugged off her hesitation. “I’m not good at jobs either. This is probably the only real one I’ve managed this long.” Before, work was something he just did in between hunting. Temporary jobs were better and bartering in favors were common. So this was all new to him. Didn’t hate it, though. “Helps having an advantage.” Especially considering he likely wouldn’t have the job at all if he weren’t a ranger and one of the few applicants that weren’t scared off by the position’s death rate. “Anyway, pretty sure you can’t mess it up. They know they can’t afford to fire me. Plus, if they did, Gary would have to leave his desk for once. I think the only way you could mess things up for me is if you set the police station on fire or something.” Then again… “Wouldn’t be the worst thing, honestly.” Maybe he shouldn’t encourage that.
“Yes, we take care of the animals and ride horses and– wait, the Roman soldier from where?” What the hell did a museum have to do with a farm? Kaden gave his head a small shake, accepting that this was one of the many moments where he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, couldn’t figure out what she was referencing, or how it matched up to the current conversation, but she was too excited to steer her off course. Or back on course. Whichever it was. Didn’t matter too much, he never wanted to snuff out the joy bubbling up from her anyway, even when he defaulted to his standard grumbling responses. And it was the same reason he decided not to elaborate on what had happened at the farm recently. “Take as much food as you want,” he said, biting back the grin trying to slide onto his face. “I’ll even take requests.”
Her menu orders would have to come later, though. Right now, the monster gashing its maw at them was more important. If Kaden didn’t know any better, he would have assumed this was a werewolf. He couldn’t say if that was preferable to the reality of the situation. A qutrub was dangerous in ways that werewolves weren’t, their mannerisms slightly different, enough to interrupt the ranger’s instinctive rhythm when facing off against a wolf. He’d have to stay on his toes, keep his guard up. Especially given how infectious a quturb bite was to anyone who wasn’t a ranger or slayer. And Kaden didn’t know if Cass was safe as a fae or if she was just as vulnerable. The best thing to do was to make sure they didn’t find out. The best thing for her to was to get out of–
A string of curse words erupted from him like a goddamn volcano. She wasn’t supposed to get the monster to chase her while she ran away, she was supposed to get to safety. The beast ran at her and Kaden took aim again with his pistol.
The shot landed and the bull– “Putain de merde.” It wasn’t a bullet. It was a goddamn tranq. And it may have hit, but it wasn’t going to slow the thing down for another few minutes. Those minutes were going to feel like a goddamn eternity – time that they didn’t have. The ranger managed to find more curse words as he shoved the pistol back in its holster, scrambling to grab the crossbow off his back. He’d half hoped that the creature would turn its attention to him after he attacked it, but the glow of the lava flowing in the cracks between the nymph’s skin was too enticing for the quturb to look away. Kaden ran behind her, placing her between himself and the monster. “Duck!” he shouted as he aimed the crossbow at the monster, hoping to hit before its claws came anywhere near Cass. If nothing else, he hoped it would give him enough time to put himself between the two of them, to get her out of harm’s way.
—
If Kaden’s attempts at employment were similar to her own, maybe Cass didn’t need to feel quite so ashamed by them. After all, weren’t there worse people to emulate? Kaden was a good man, even if he was a hunter. He wasn’t like Rhett, who had terrified and traumatized her, or even Parker, who had agreed not to hurt her only as long as she was on her best behavior. Kaden, she thought, didn’t need to make such promises. And wasn’t that what she wanted to be like? Someone who helped people, a hero in her own right? Kaden was strong and protective and good, and Cass wanted to be the same. So she smiled, she nodded her head. “That actually sounds really fun. Um, you know, if it’s… something you wanted, I’d totally be interested.” She could do good work as a superhero and as an animal control intern.
And she could annoy Kaden. That was a very important perk.
Of course Kaden didn’t know Night at the Museum. She hadn’t expected him to. It was a little funny that, of the two of them, Cass knew far more about human pop culture than the guy who was actually human. (Human plus, sure, but still human!) She rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head. “We have got to have another movie night soon, dude. Maybe at your farm. With your booooooyfriiiiiiend.” She dragged the word out in a singsong, still grinning as she said it. “And you can cook!” She’d have to… find a way to slip away at the end that wouldn’t make Kaden freak out, though. The last thing she needed was for him to follow her back to her cave and stumble upon Makaio. She was pretty sure both men would get the wrong idea, and it would end poorly for everyone involved.
But only if this didn’t end poorly first. Cass had no idea what the thing coming at them was. Was it a werewolf? It looked different than Alex had when she’d launched herself at Rhett, and different than the werewolf she’d led into the labyrinth of Wicked’s Rest’s cave system, too. Whatever it was, there was no way she was leaving it alone with Kaden. He was tough and he was strong and he was brave, but that didn’t mean he could take everything on by himself. That didn’t mean he should have to.
He probably wasn’t happy she stayed behind. Actually, no, scratch that — given the long string of what she could only assume was very French cursing, he definitely wasn’t happy she stayed behind. But Cass was a superhero, and superheroes didn’t run from trouble.
The maybe-a-werewolf charged at her, but Cass hadn’t planned any farther than ‘get its attention.’ She looked at Kaden over the top of the beast’s head, waiting for him to take aim with his gun. He did… but what it fired weren’t deadly bullets. Of course they weren’t. Because Kaden was good, and good men didn’t load their weapons with deadly projectiles long before they knew what they’d be aiming for.
For a moment, she was sure the beast was going to sink its teeth into her, but Kaden was there again. Kaden was always there — that was part of what she liked about him. She ducked without question when he asked, and his crossbow took aim. It was sure to be more effective than the tranqs from the gun, she thought. But if that didn’t work… “What is this thing? Is it — Is it a person? I can attack it with my magma, but I don’t want to hurt a person.”
—
She ducked and the arrow pierced the monster’s shoulder, sending it tumbling back with a roar of pain. Kaden would have to load another arrow in the meantime. Or consider melee. Both were risky. But at least he couldn’t be turned if the thing bit him. Cass, on the other hand… He wasn’t sure what a bite did to fae. All he knew was he didn’t want to fucking find out.
“Not a person,” he shouted back as he fumbled to reload the crossbow. “Quturb. Like a werewolf and a spawn combined. No humanity left, though.” He wanted to tell her to run, to just leave this all to him. She shouldn’t risk her life here, that wasn’t her job. It was his. This was his birthright, for whatever the fuck that was worth. It was his battle to fight and his job to protect people. That included Cass. It more than included Cass.
But it wasn’t like she was defenseless. She was covered in volcanic rock and split with veins of magma. She harbored the power of a volcano within her, something that no ranger could compete with on the best day. Even then, Kaden wanted to reach out and pull her behind him, throw himself between the monster that was stumbling to its feet and her.
Instead, he was going to have to trust her, trust that she knew her capabilities, that she wasn’t being reckless. “Do it,” he called out to her. He took a few steps back and finished loading his weapon, hoping to be ready to land any killing shot they needed if for whatever reason something went wrong. “Be careful!” he added. “Don’t let it bite you, don’t get too–” His words fell away as the beast sprung to life and launched itself at them once again.
—
Despite Kaden’s reassurance that the creature attacking them had no humanity left in it, Cass couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at its cries of pain. It was hard, still, not to think of Alex. It was hard not to remember that the only time she’d ever seen the werewolf in wolf form, it had been when she was saving Cass’s life. She wondered if Kaden thought of her, too, wondered if he struggled to see something inhuman instead of something that looked a little too much like someone he loved.
“What’s a spawn?” She could only understand half of the comparison. Most of Cass’s experiences with the supernatural were with either fae or the more sentient kinds of beasts and undead. She had friends who were zombies and vampires, had loved werewolves and sirens, but she tended to stay away from things like this unless she was saving someone. (She wondered if this qualified as saving someone. It would have hurt people if they hadn’t approached it, right? She didn’t like the idea of killing for killing’s sake.)
Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded. Kaden was telling her that it was okay to hurt this thing, and if Kaden was saying it, Cass knew it had to be true. She trusted him as the authority on things like this. He wasn’t like Rhett, wasn’t like the hunter who had shot Alex or the ones that had targeted Metzli in the time she’d known them. Kaden was a good man, a trustworthy one. If he said it was okay to hurt this thing to stop it from hurting others, Cass knew it was the truth.
She twisted as the qutrub writhed in pain, gripping it tightly and letting the heat build beneath her rocky skin. The small eruption that occurred as magma seeped from between the cracks in the stone and onto the qutrub was quiet, but the creature’s cries weren’t. She couldn’t hold it for long before it was thrashing free of her grip and launching itself forward again.
Cass ducked behind Kaden instinctively, heart pounding. She wanted to make some quip that he’d groan at, wanted to say that she’d been bitten by werewolves before and wriggle her brows and pretend it didn’t hurt, but… she was afraid. As much as she hated to admit it, this thing scared her. And, without thinking, she trusted Kaden to take care of that.
—
With her help, Kaden had time to reload the crossbow and time to aim. He had the time to exhale, line up the shot, to focus, to lean into his training.
In the chaos of the action, he was able to make the space to slow down the seconds and milliseconds, to stretch them further and rely on a combination of muscle memory, decades of experience, and a touch of instinct.
The crossbow was raised. Trigger pulled. Arrow loosed. Head pierced. Blood splattered. Cries silenced. Body collapsed.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins didn’t allow Kaden to feel the wash of relief or sense of accomplishment from a hunt completed just yet. He stood his ground, hand reaching for a knife as his eyes remained laser focused on the twitching corpse on the forest floor. He had to be sure it was dead, that the danger had passed. He couldn’t relax until that moment.
He spun to face Cass, looking her over as if he could identify any injuries on her rocky skin. “Are you alright? Did it hurt you? Are you okay? Did it bite you?” The questions came one after the other in rapid fire — as if he asked every possible version, one of them would be the right one. His hands hovered over her shoulders, hesitating only because of the swirls of magma churning in the veins cracking her skin. Was it safe for him to touch? Would it burn? Hell, more importantly, was she okay with contact at all? Kaden didn’t know but it didn’t matter so long as she was alright.
From what he could tell, she was okay overall but he could hear her heart pounding like it was up against his eardrum. He wanted to provide comfort, but some part of him knew that she didn’t want to appear afraid, like she was still the brave hero. “You did great,” he assured her. And he meant it. She had come in clutch, gave him the time to line up the shot and make the killing blow.
—
It all happened so quickly. You wouldn’t think it would. Death was such a heavy thing, even when it was happening to some mindless creature; part of Cass felt like it should carry more weight than this, that it should take longer. But it happened so quickly, and she took another step away from the dead qutrub as if that meant anything.
Kaden turned to face her, and she tore her eyes away from the corpse with a small smile. He was worried; it made her feel a little warm, made it harder to feel bad for the dead qutrub. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but she didn’t feel like looking too deeply into it, so she only nodded. “I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’m not hurt, it didn’t bite me. Everything’s good.” Later, she thought, she’d recount this tale to Makaio in the cave, would see what he knew about creatures like this one. Maybe Cass could teach him something for a change; maybe that would make things feel a little less uneven.
Her smile only widened when Kaden told her she’d done great, preening a little under the praise. “You did the hard part,” she replied, feigning humility. She had done pretty well, hadn’t she? Kaden might have been eaten if not for her. She’d tell Makaio all about that, too. Having two people proud of her… It sounded exhilarating. “What, um… What now?”
—
Kaden’s lungs emptied when it was clear that she was alright. “Good, that’s good.” This is why he preferred hunting alone — it was too much stress having to worry about someone else’s well being on top of keeping himself alive. He probably got another gray hair or two after this encounter. Even then, he couldn’t help but match her smile. “Well not all of us can spew magma at things.” Alright, maybe it wasn’t the worst having someone else on a hunt to appreciate the hard work, especially when they were helpful.
The ranger took a step towards the corpse to get a better look at the state of it. No movement, no breathing, and he couldn’t sense it anymore. There was no doubt that it was dead. Still wasn’t something he wanted to risk leaving there with nothing but a crossbow bolt in its skull. “Now I set this corpse on fire and then we get you back home.” He turned to look at her, making sure that she was still okay. “Well, I guess it might be faster for you to burn the body. If, uh, if you’re okay with that.”
He couldn’t be sure how much she’d really experienced violence or death before, if she knew what burning flesh smelled like, if she was prepared to see muscle turn to ash. Part of him wanted to keep her from that. “On second thought, maybe I’ll come back and take care of it later.” There was no way she’d escaped all the horrors that this town served up on a silver platter, but she didn’t have to face this one. He could spare her this one. “I think, instead, we can swing by The Creamatorum on the way back. Wouldn’t want to waste time here just in case it closes before we get there. You know. If you want.”
—
Kaden smiled, and it was a rare sight. He was always a little grumpy, always a little sad. The smile made Cass feel like she’d accomplished something, like she’d won some great prize, and her own grin widened a little in response. Things had been rough for… most of her life, actually. But it felt like they were turning around now, like everything was coming up in her favor. She had friends like Kaden, she had a father who wanted to be a part of her life. What more could she possibly ask for? She bit back a laugh as Kaden commented that not everyone could do what she did, shaking her head. “Skill issue,” she replied flatly, then brightened it with a grin.
Kaden moved towards the corpse, and Cass followed curiously. It was still a little sad, seeing it there, but now that it was still it looked less and less like a werewolf. It was clear that this was a less sentient thing, even in death. She nudged it with her foot, tensing until it didn’t move. Glancing back to Kaden, she nodded. “I can burn it,” she agreed, a little hesitant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be responsible for that, even if she’d do it for Kaden.
But… then he was backtracking, and she couldn’t deny the rush of relief that came with it. It didn’t look as much like a werewolf as she’d first thought it might, but there was still something a little scary and a little sad about the idea of burning a corpse that had initially reminded her a little too much of someone she loved. The offered alternative of the Creamatorum put that excited grin back on her face, and she nodded quickly. “That actually sounds kind of perfect,” she said.
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EVA GREEN
DREAMERS (2003) Proxima (2019) (reblog 1255)
I have brought you these two films on the topic of Eva Green because my random system of selecting films is based on Tumblr's blogger postings as they appear on my wall using different criteria based first in (oldest) first out. With respect to the other film, "Proxima", I requested AI Copilot recommend a suitable film to accompany Dreamers on this double feature. This is what Copilot had to say: "Eva Green’s roles have evolved over time, "Proxima" can provide a modern counterpoint to her early work in The Dreamers. And lastly, because I have the hots for Eva Green.
The Dreamers (French: Innocents: The Dreamers) is a 2003 erotic romantic drama film directed by Bernardo Bertolucci. The screenplay is by Gilbert Adair, based on his 1988 novel The Holy Innocents. It was the first film appearance of Eva Green, and is considered her breakthrough role.
This is an amazing picture of Eva Green in Dreamers seems to imitate the marble statue of the Greek Goddess Venus (Aphrodite) of Milo. It is considered to date back to 2nd century BC. (Venus de Milo - Wikipedia)
In 2002, Green had her film debut, when director Bernardo Bertolucci cast her for the role of Isabelle in The Dreamers (2003), which involved her in extensive full frontal nude scenes and rear nude scenes as well as graphic sex scenes. Green told The Guardian that her agent and her parents begged her not to take the role, concerned that the film would cause her career to "have the same destiny as Maria Schneider", because of Schneider's traumatic experience during the filming of Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris. Green said that with Bertolucci's guidance she felt comfortable during the filming of the nude and sex scenes but was embarrassed when her family saw the film. Her performance was well-received. Green expressed surprise when a minute was cut from the film for the American market, stating, "[T]here is so much violence, both on the streets and on the screen. They think nothing of it. Yet I think they are frightened by sex."
Eva Green - Wikipedia
The film tells the story of an American university student in Paris who, after meeting a peculiar brother and sister who are fellow film enthusiasts, becomes entangled in an erotic triangle. It is set against the backdrop of the 1968 Paris student riots. The film makes several references to various movies of classical and French New Wave cinema, incorporating clips from films that are often imitated by the actors in particular scenes.
There are two versions: an uncut NC-17-rated version, and an R-rated version that is about three minutes shorter.
The Dreamers (2003 film) - Wikipedia
The Dreamers (2003) - IMDb 7'1
1255-1
You can see the full movie by clicking on green: The Dreamers (2003) Full Movie | Eva Green, Louis Garrel, Michael Pitt, Ingy Fillion - video Dailymotion
youtube
1255-2 https://youtu.be/Yam5uK6e-bQ
Proxima is a 2019 French drama film, directed by Alice Winocour.
The films stars Eva Green as Sarah, a woman trying to balance her work as an astronaut preparing for a year-long stint on the International Space Station with her family life as mother to an eight-year-old daughter.
The film was shot in various real training facilities of the European Space Agency and Roscosmos such as Star City and Baikonur Cosmodrome.
An astronaut prepares for a one-year mission aboard the International Space Station.
Proxima (film) - Wikipedia
Proxima (2019) - IMDb 6'3
Click on green to see film: Proxima (2019) Watch HD - video Dailymotion
youtube
link https://youtu.be/iYYRH4apXDo
#1255#film#the dreamers#2003#dir. Bernardo Bertolucci#proxima#2019#dir. Alice Winocour#actress#eva green#music#dreams#the cranberries#space oddity#david bowie#2024-11-19
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