#rrr: chapter

[luckyricochet]

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

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Eilidh arrives at Thorpe Abbots.

A/N:

I'm back! I'm so sorry for the wait, but thank you for being patient! Grad school got the better of me but I've managed to pull myself together for an updated. If you are still reading, I appreciate you so much for putting up with the long absence!

The Diss train station was small but seemed just as busy as any Eilidh had seen. The entire train disembarked here, everyone probably all heading towards the same place, she thought as she hurried to catch the vehicle that would take her into Thorpe Abbotts, and then, past that, to the air base. She kept her head down but couldn’t help but observe the rush of people around her. It seemed likely she would end up seeing at least some of them again at one point or another.

The villages that the truck trundled past were small. Before 1939, they had probably been sleepy little hamlets, Eilidh guessed. They were all serviced by one main road, the old stone houses charmingly decorated with ivy and moss in the front and fed by farms and gardens maintained in the back. It was the type of place that made St Andrews, with its three whole streets and town and gown relations, appear downright urban.

Eventually the sparse villages became even sparser, until the truck was rumbling along large open fields on a smooth, newly-laid road. Eilidh watched the green land flash by with mixed emotions. It was beautiful and should have lifted her spirits, but as it passed outside the window, she only felt a cold distance. It was fresh and pristine here, hardly touched by the ravages of the Blitz at all. If only Will had found it within himself to leave London and work somewhere else, had he not been so stubborn…

The road was narrowing, dotted with men and women in uniform. The truck pulled up past a large white sign that read ROYAL AIR FORCE THORPE ABBOTTS. Above it, another sign warned, NO UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL ALLOWED. I guess I’ll be authorized soon myself, Eilidh thought. A man dressed in olive green came out of a white hut to talk to the driver, and then they were waved in past more long yellow-green fields. After a while the road joined up with what was unmistakably an aircraft runway. Beyond this, Eilidh started to see buildings, bizarrely-shaped like giant cans cut in half vertically and laying on the flat sides. She had seen pictures of them in magazines, but never in real life. The truck came to a stop in front of one of them. Eilidh grabbed her suitcase and approached a man in a uniform who was corralling the new arrivals like her.

“I’m Eilidh Hamilton,” she said with a deep breath. ��British Red Cross?”

“Check in’s down that way,” he said, directing her down another gravel road. A short queue had already formed, spilling out of one of the giant cans. A big white sign with a red cross painted upon it had been hammered into the dirt by the door. Eilidh got into the line and a girl with dark hair promptly smiled at her.

“I’m Beth,” she said. “Who are you?”

“Eilidh. Nice to meet you,” Eilidh replied.

The girl’s grin widened. “Are you a Red Cross girl too?”

“Well—assuming they don’t strike me from whatever inspection they’re doing in there,” Eilidh said, nodding toward the office.

“Hey! Keep it moving, ladies!” a voice shouted at them.

Both girls jumped, and, after recovering, shuffled sheepishly inside the hut. It was set up with three rows of desks all along the inside, each staffed by an man doing intake. Eilidh felt a knot in her stomach, even though she had no reason for one. All of her security and background clearance had already been approved as part of her application, months ago; she was pretty sure this was just the military equivalent of attendance in school, making sure everyone who was supposed to be there was accounted for. Another person at the door directed Eilidh towards the back of the room, where she sat down.

The man before her pushed a piece of paper and pen toward her. “You fill that out. I’ll need to see your national identity card.” He tapped some ash off of the cigarette he was smoking. The smell of the smoke was bitter but oddly enticing after her journey.

Eilidh gave him her identity card and glanced down at the form he had slid to her. She filled it out quickly—it was easy, just a repeat of her personal information that she was sure they already had. When she looked up, the man was squinting at her card. He opened up a metal box sitting next to him, rifling through its contents until he extracted another card. He held the two next to each other, peered at her, and then nodded to himself.

“All right.” He grunted and got to his feet. “Turn your chair that way, so your back is to the wall. We’re going to take photo for your badge.” Eilidh did as she was told while the man readied a small camera. She heard it click a few times.

“These are yours.” The man handed her identification card back and then a second, flimsier one. “This one is your temporary security badge for the base. You’ll have the permanent one with your picture once we can get it printed. Until you get it, you don’t leave this base. But you keep your ID on yourself at all times, Miss Hamilton, even if you do leave the base,” he instructed her. “It’s your proof that you’re allowed to be here, so don’t lose it. You do and it’ll be more paperwork for us, and we won’t like that…Got it?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now go on back there, they’ll show you around.”

And there was a lot to see around the base. Fifty concrete hardstands or along one of the three runways, the longest of which was nearly two thousand meters long and somehow the most impressive thing around, Eilidh thought, even though it was really just a glorified road. Not far from it was a control tower, a squat and square structure topped with a viewing deck. Everyone was most excited about the officer’s club—empty as of yet and still needing tables and chairs, but the two-sectioned space was enormous. Big enough for a band to play on one end, explained their guide, along with a cozy fireplace at the other. Other sites, Eilidh felt confident she would have no reason to ever be near again, so she took advantage of committing their presence to memory, the things like fuel storage facilities and the ammunition dump site. She was more interested in seeing the places that she knew she would actually frequent—the mess halls and the barracks. It was here that their truck driver ended the tour and told them to disembark, conveniently so they could find their beds and begin to settle in. Eilidh was content to find where she would be sleeping; although it was only the afternoon, she was exhausted.

There was hardly any rest to be had, though. Already in the hut she would be staying in were a few other young women, including Beth, the one who Eilidh had met earlier. Eilidh was so tired she was in no mood to talk to anyone, so it was with some reluctance that she went over to introduce herself to their fellow bunkmates. Mary, Susannah, Fran…who’s the other? I’ve already forgotten. Beth, Eilidh soon learned, was happy to do enough talking for the both of them. So Eilidh let her, smiling woodenly and nodding until they were called for supper and a whole new wave of faces met them.

It was like the first day of university. A bunch of strangers thrown together, from all over the country. A little nervous but excited too. As Eilidh’s energy flagged, she forced herself to remember her first days at St Andrews. You liked it there. You’ll like it here too, she told herself fiercely.

It was wishful thinking more than anything else, but at this point, it was all she had.

Eilidh Hamilton’s Diary

14 February 1943

I arrived at Thorpe Abbotts today. There was so much to do and see that I’m quite frankly surprised I’m still awake. The facilities are enormous and really quite nice since they’re brand new.

I must have met dozens of people. Everyone seems so cheery—so committed to the job and all. Not jaded or anything. I can’t fake that sort of thing very well. Maybe for an hour or two, but it’s a lot. I did try my best today, really. I don’t want to disappoint Mum and Dad again by coming home. But I think a lot of the other people could tell that I wasn’t talking much. Maybe they’ll just think I’m quiet. Ha. Wouldn’t that be the irony of the century.

We have to be up at six o��clock tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep soon, right after I write Mum and Dad very briefly.

Eilidh Hamilton to Victoria and James Hamilton

14 February 1943

Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m writing at the end of my first day here. It’s been a lot to take in, so I’m nodding off as I write this but wanted to dash off a few lines to let you know that everything has gone well so far. I’ve met up with the people I’m living with but there hasn’t been much time to get to know them yet and there were so many people to meet that I hardly even remember their names. I do remember the girls’ names, though. There’s Beth, Susannah, Amelia, Mary, and Frances, plus me, for six in total for our quarters. The barracks are bigger than I might have thought. We all have our own bed and even space for a vanity and places to hang up clothes, shelves, that sort of thing. There’s a stove in the middle of the hut so it’s not cold and there’s enough room so that we can put our chairs in a group for when we want to chat. Overall it seems it will be comfortable.

We got a tour of the entire base—it’s absolutely massive. One of the men said we should save up for bicycles if we can, so I’ll probably follow his advice because otherwise I’ll be too tired to do anything else from all the walking.

Tomorrow we have an early start to our lessons on everything we are meant to be responsible for. The base isn’t active yet, so until it is we’re supposed to be training. The biggest thing is learning how to drive, I don’t think there’s any of us who know how to do that, and certainly not with an ambulance. Can you imagine? I’m sure that’ll be a laugh. I’m hoping I can just spend all my time making biscuits and scones, but I’m guessing it won’t play out that way.

I’ll write again in a few days. Love to all.

Eilidh

The next day was no easier than the first. Starting before the sun rose and running only on coffee and a slice of toast, Eilidh and the other girls shuffled into another Nissen hut close to their barracks. Dozens of seats had been arranged lecture hall-style in the rows at one end of the hut, but the rest of the space was a little bit more cozily made-up with a small kitchenette, plush chairs and sofas, bookshelves, and a radio. After a few minutes of the girls whispering conspiratorially about what was going to happen next, the door burst open. A tall woman wearing glasses and graying hair tied sensibly at the nape of her neck strode business-like up the aisle and stepped up to the dais.

“That’ll do,” she said to quiet them.

They all fell silent like schoolchildren, an effect compounded when she reached to her feet and lifted an enormous stack of paper to the podium. The woman split the stack in half and handed one to each side of the front row, a single gesture of her finger indicating they were to be passed around, along with a tin full of pencils. Eilidh glanced at the booklet she had just been handed. Stamped on the front in black letters were the words, British Red Cross—Thorpe Abbotts Station 139. The eponymous cross was emblazoned underneath it. Eilidh fanned the pages open and caught a glimpse of various headings: The Red Cross Girl’s Attitude, Writing the Bereaved, How to Prepare Coffee…

“I am Mrs. Eleanor Thackeray. I’m director of the British Red Cross chapter based here at Thorpe Abbotts.” The woman surveyed them over the rim of her glasses. “For as long as you ladies are here, I will be your supervisor. If you have any problems, you come to me. Let’s be clear that despite working on a military base, you are civilians. We will be working under a different chain of command than the airmen, understand? If you have a dispute involving any of the military personnel, you come to me and we will sort it out, in conjunction with the military, if need be.”

Eilidh didn’t question why Mrs. Thackeray began her speech in this manner; cross-fraternization was a given in this situation.

For the next several hours, Mrs. Thackeray expounded on everything they were to be responsible for at one point or another so long as they stayed with the base. How to write comforting notes to distressed families, how to pack a proper care package, how to type welfare reports, how to serve refreshments and libations, and more. They broke at noon to lunch, eating in the same hut and making use of the entire space for the first time. When it was filled with genial conversation instead a single person talking at them, Eilidh realized it was even nicer than it looked. Towards the end of the half hour reprieve, Eilidh stepped outside for a few minutes. She looked up at the overcast sky and took a deep breath, expelling the stuffy hut air out of her body. There was the smell of a threatening rainstorm on the wind.

The afternoon was more practical. A man came and explained to them the basics of driving, and then they all went out in pairs to test their abilities with the different runways as their practice grounds. Eilidh turned, accelerated and slowed, and parked in accordance to the instructor’s strict guidance and with minimal grief, but there was still lots to learn. All of the girls would be subjected to a daily driving lesson from now until when the station activated that summer, and there wasn’t enough practice to be had. They would have to get used to not just merely driving, but also driving at high speeds, on bumpy terrain, and with the base full of people—all knowing that eventually they would be driving in life or death conditions too, with a man in the back screaming in agony. Their instructor seemed disappointed that it hadn’t rained after all, that they would have to wait before they could try driving on slick surfaces with the windshield lashed with raindrops.

So with that fear of God properly instilled in them by their instructor, it was with even greater anticipation that Eilidh filed into the kitchen of one of the mess halls, where another woman showed them the recipe they were to use for baking the biscuits, donuts, and scones to stock the Red Cross clubmobile. Whereas Eilidh had taken meticulous notes in order to get behind the wheel, she almost didn’t pay attention at all during the baking lesson, especially after she sampled some of the wares that were passed around—she could make a better version of almost all of these things from memory. They weren’t bad, but weren’t spectacular either. They were going to stay that way, though, Eilidh realized, as the woman lectured them about the strict need to stick to the recipe so as to not mess with supplies and ingredients and whatnot. After some more time mixing and shaping and waiting, they all marched off to the officer’s mess again for dinner, now with their first batches of Red Cross biscuits in hand. Eilidh nibbled at hers after eating a helping of shepherd’s pie. It was crumbly and a little sweet, but not as buttery or soft as it could have been if she had made it in her own way. When Beth agreed that they were subpar, Eilidh felt a sense of kinship with the other girl for the first time.

Eilidh Hamilton’s Diary

15 February 1943

We had our first taste (literally) of some of the things we are going to be doing as Red Cross Girls. Most of it was fine like the driving and the packages and so on, but my God—I wish these biscuits and things were not so rubbish. Aren’t they supposed to be for the boys for when they go off on missions? We could at least give them something a little better.

[rosellerivers19]

I HATE Pushpa (the character)

Pushpa is a movie that was released during the pandemic and became a massive hit. Even Bollywood stars commented on the movie. The songs were memorable and the song Sooseki got around 100 million views even though the second movie hadn't released yet.

It seems South indian Cinema is getting more appreciated with films like Bhaubali, RRR and KGF Chapter 1/2 and Devara might even gain more attention due to Jr. Ntr's presence. (Which I'm super excited about I loved him ever since I was young, him and Ram charan were one of my favorites so RRR was a pleasant surprise)

I'm just disappointed that Pushpa's story is the one thats getting this attention.

Pushpa has good BGM, the setting is cool and cinematography can be considered good and Allu Arjun is always appreciated but the story is where it lacks.

Can I understand it? Yes, I've been watching TollyWood movies ever since I was 1. I was singing Gabbar Singh songs when I was a toddler. I understand what logic Tollywood tries portraying is it always right? No but its enjoyable and times were different we're evolving we want more complex and meaningful stories now Bahubali and RRR gaining attraction are examples that South Indian movie industry is evolving finally!

So imagine my disappointment when I see Pushpa the next great Tollywood film.

"Pushpa Raj is a self respecting young man who takes pride in his work. He works at a mill, but leaves it when his owner doesn't like his attitude outside of work. Pushpa goes for Red sandal wood cutting in the forest. Pushpa lives in a village with his mother Parvatamma, and is the illegitimate son of a local rich man." That is the story according to imbd.

You'd think the movie gives more context about Pushpa nope. IMBD really summed it all up and thats the problem. Pushpa's character can be summed up in a few words and there's not depth beyond those words in the movie itself.

The thing that makes this film detestable is the main character Pushpa he is not enjoyable whatsoever. It's like one of those Dark Romance ML's but they tried mixing in a few funny liners and tried making him a sunshine character as well but failed?

He's not funny I feel bad for his sidekick Kesava actually no. I like Kesava better than Pushpa Himself. He looks like he has actually meaning and depth he has relatable goals and is actually funny or seems to have some sort of personality. I wholeheartedly ship him and Srivalli's friend actually go Side characters!

Now lets compare 2 films Maari 2 and Pushpa which might seem random but let me explain

Maari in both the first one and the sequel was a gangster however do you know why i like him better than Pushpa? He has redeeming qualities he has morals like he kills bad people but doesn't want to sell drugs because he knows that can make innocent people succumb to horrible diseases like his best friend their situations are very different however Maari is seen as a morally gray character just like Pushpa is portrayed as. Maari also has morals when he kills beeja's brother for attempting to assault Anandhi's sister. He's doing something 'bad' killing a person but he essentially redeems it because of why he does it. He also gives good advice when she talks about no one wanting to marry her because she's ruined maari says she isn't an object to be ruined and its not wrong to wait how long to find a guy that understands that.

He's a troubled guy with not normal values but I can sympathize with him and actually root for him because he's a good person.

A more accurate example KGF Rocky is on a very similar path to Pushpa he only relied on his mother his whole life until she died while in Pushpa his mother and himself suffered humiliation. Pushpa was often beat up Rocky was also beat probably even more. They both started at the streets and slowly climbed up wanting money and power. Pushpa only smuggled and framed and fought. Rocky outright killed but I still like him better than Pushpa do you know why?

Because he has character Rocky's backstory is more compelling wanting to fulfill his dying mother's wishes of not wanting her son to die miserably without money like her even if it meant becoming a bad person? Hell yeah. Also similar to maari he has limits he has certain morals, clear cut morals. in the first KGF movie he outright stops traffic for a mother and her son who wanted to get some food but were unable to because of the traffic and gave her hard advice. That the world isn't gonna stop for you its harsh and not lenient and that we need to MAKE it stop. We have to put in the work and not just hope someone will always come along. This gives us insight into his views further developing his character.

Pushpa's story is he was an outcast because he was an illegitimate son and was unable to have his father's last name? So he makes his name Pushpa Raj. He disrespects his mother despite her being the only one there for him and just usually disregards her. He has too much Pride. He doesn't have much regard for women as we see when he gives his shirt to Jaali's victim he isn't sympathetic to her at all and is kinda indifferent except for looking away as if he's uncomfortable more than regarding her own feelings

And the thing is all of these problems could be fixed if we saw more into his character which we're only given bits and pieces of.

Pushpa isn't close to his mother? Maybe its because he blames her for all the prejudice but still cares for her somewhere in his heart which is seen through the light interactions between the two in the movie. He has too much Pride? well he feels like thats his right because he was denied everything else his father's name, money, and even necklace. He doesn't have regard for women much? Even that can be fixed like in the movie 'temper' where Jr Ntr's character first doesn't care much for other women ends up willing to give his life for them he gets character development. Pushpa could not really see a big deal in Jaali's activities until he's confronted with one of the victims himself and is reminded of the women in his life and starts to detest Jalli which ultimately bursts when Jaali sets his eyes on Srivalli.

Everything I said you can mostly think about happening in the movie but its like a real stretch you have to really put your mind on it to see it happening in the canon of the Pushpa universe its nots showed to us the viewers like in other movies we don't get clear cut shots of these narratives I spoke up being played out. Its what makes these movies lively or entertaining in my opinion because they had depth which is enhanced due to the main character himself.

So see this from my perspective a MAN is able to outsmart the police and insult them, illegally get sandal wood, Act like and arrogant bastard through most of this move, have so much intelligence out of nowhere and still gets a girl?

Reena has more personality than Srivalli I'm actually gonna begin stanning her after this.

And when I say a MAN I mean a MAN because the person Pushpa on my screen is a stranger to me I don't get a clear feel of his character or any connection to him.

I really hope these issues are rectified in the second movie but I have my doubts. Pushpa as a movie feels like a regression for Tollywood and I don't want that for my cinema industry which I know has flaws but I also know that its healing and has really good stories.

Anyways to all Indian movie lovers out hope you're excited for Devara because I sure am. Jr. Ntr in double roles? Its like Adhurs all over again. And one of his roles seems really cute too, I've wanted to see Jr Ntr in action again for a long time.

But thats all for now

Yours truly

Roselle🪷

[sevvaddle]

Revere.

Illustration for chapter 7 of @chrisis-averted's fic, Rewind. Reset. Rewrite. Link in replies.

[lightningant]

Halfway through Ginny’s scattered description of how to make a toy usable in a game – it slowed when tilting up and went faster when tilting down, so you could get it to go faster if you tilt and kick off the ground over and over – Bill returned to loudly announce, “Who wants to see how strong their magic is!”

Herring update!

[campterodactyl]

Alternative flogging scene.. Don’t… ask… why …. (But blame the discord server and @luxshine… she made me)

[rrr-is-gay]

New smut alert!!!! There is absolutely no plot here, just 2.5k words of schmaltzy porn! Ram’s first time “topping,” but he does it on the bottom. He and Bheem get it on and talk about how in love they are, and that is it.

[desishifter]

Rocky: Reena and I are adopting a kid.

Anna (me): That's gre-

Rocky, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

[luxshine]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: RRR (2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alluri Sitarama Raju/Komaram Bheem Characters: Alluri Sitarama Raju, Komaram Bheem, Jenny (RRR 2022), Lacchu (RRR 2022), Ventakeswarulu (RRR 2022), Scott Buxton, Catherine Buxton, Malli (RRR 2022) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/confort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

A child was stolen from their tribe, and taken to the British's Home. However, this is not the child you're thinking about. This happened 20 years before Malli was taken, and the Child was Alluri Rama Raju.

How did that little difference changed his life, and his fated meeting with Komuram Bheem? Well, read to find out!

[rgcinemanews]

Top 10 Best South Movies in 2022 - इन मूवीज को एक बार जरुर देखना चाहिए

हैलो दोस्तों आपका बहुत बहुत स्वागत है ह��ारे ब्ल��ग  RG CINEMA NEWS  में ,

तो आज के इस ब्लॉग में हम आप लोगों इस साल 2022 साउथ इंडस्ट्री में रिलीज हुई Top 10 Best South Movies in 2022 के बारे में बताएंगे जिनको लोगो द्वारा उनके कांसेप्ट और स्टोरी के लिए बहुत पसंद किया गया है। इन मूवी में से बहुत सी मूवी को मेने खुद भी देखा है तो में अपने अनुभव से इनको एक लिस्ट में आपके सामने प्रस्तुत कर रहा हु , मुझे यकीन हैं आपको ये वाला ब्लॉग बहुत पसंद आएगा ।

Top 10 Best South Movies in 2022

इन मूवीज की लिस्ट को मेने अपने मनोरंजन के हिसाब से रखा है तो आप इनकी लिस्ट की रैंक को देखकर इन्हें जज बिलकुल मत करियेगा , ये सभी मूवी 2022 में लोगो द्वारा बहुत पसंद की गयी है इसलिए इस लिस्ट में है | आप सभी को एक बार इन मूवी को जरुर देखना चाहिए , सभी मूवी लाजवाब है | इनकी स्टोरी सीधा दिल को छु जाती है | तो आप सभी हमारा ये ब्लॉग Top 10 Best South Movies in 2022 शुरू से अंत तक पूरा पढ़े

और पड़ने के लिए इस पर क्लिक करे

Top 10 Best South Movies in 2022

[sxrrandomfanfics]

RRR

RRR all STARTED on one idea.

Of the scenes for each part... I'll state these things.

For Drowned Grulovia, Agent's scene that I REALLY wanted to write and build a story around was the scene between him and his Nona. How in the future, he was unsure if Nona would even be around to help him anymore. For Camp Whispering Rock, it was the Nightmare scene (which had to change so much from its original placement and meaning). For the Aquatodome, it was Zombie running away from the Aquatos. For the Memory Morgue, it was multiple memory vaults. I just wanted Hollis to know what Raz went through.

For the Nothing King, there was an original scene it was all written around that was scrapped because I and the original creator of the Nothing King agreed using the song from Centaurworld would be too jarring and readers would not like it. But NK's introduction was still written with the song in mind. Here's the original -

...

...

...

...

Also, Fragment. You'll meet Fragment soon.

[chrisis-averted]

Oh my ❤

Commission for @chrisis-averted of Jon in a specific outfit <3

Y’all there’s still only one slot left for sketch commissions before they’re gone FOREVERRRRRRR

[luckyricochet]

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Some decisions are made in the aftermath.

“Eilidh!”

Someone was shaking her again, but she wasn’t back in bed; she was on the floor of the shelter. As far as Eilidh could tell, the bombs still fell outside, but the sound of a human voice shot through her to reminder her she was alive. Trembling, she uncurled her body and uncovered her face, revealing her mother’s petrified expression feet from her and two pairs of feet behind—her father and grandmother. Eilidh’s body relaxed for a minute, relieved her family was safe, but once she had registered reality, she was seized with a furious impulse.

“Where—!”

Where were you? she wanted to shout at them. Why did you take so long? Why did you make me leave first? She wanted to shout at them for worrying her, for letting her think they were all dead, for not caring about her enough to care about themselves, the sort of nonsensical things that ran through her mind all the time these days. But with the adrenaline evacuated from her now, Eilidh was suddenly physically and emotionally spent, and she realized her cheeks were wet with tears. Exhausted and full of not a little self-loathing, she closed her eyes when she felt the arms around her, only listening a little to her family’s comforting words. All there was to do was to wait the night out.

Morning dawned eerily quiet and calm, as if London had not just been host to a calamitous plastering that had left the city cowering in its wake. The sky was cloudless and sunny and even the birds were singing. If they had been scared off by the nighttime violence, it hadn’t been enough to keep them away permanently. Maybe that should have been a sign of hope. A more optimistic person would have seen it that way, at least.

Eilidh and her family emerged into the wreckage with dread and heavy eyelids; it had been impossible to sleep. They had to pick their way around a bevy of rock, wood, and other collateral damage that had fallen into the yard. Compared to some other places, it would have seemed downright tidy and it was a miracle there was not more of a mess. Their house was not completely obliterated, but the front of it had collapsed and a mountain of rubble and ash spilled out onto the street. The foyer, sitting room, and parts of the bedrooms all sat exposed and destroyed. The fire brigade came in time and extracted what it could salvage—some clothes and canned food—and tried to reassure Eilidh and her family that while the house was structurally unsound, many of their personal belongings from further back in the house that had been less touched by the inferno would be able to be retrieved once clean up began.

There were no further bombings of a major scale after that last one that hit their street, though Eilidh took no pleasure in celebrating. Rather, her bitterness festered. Her home had survived months of air raids, only to succumb to the last one. If the bombs had just fallen in one different place, they would have been clear. She might have thought about the house with mixed feelings when she first arrived, but when it came down to it, it was still one of the places where she had grown up, where she had spent so much of her life. Now half of it was a pile of dust and brick.

She remembered how she had thought it had felt different when she arrived, but she would have traded any of that to have the house back. This place that was her home was now just a husk, sitting ravaged by the violence of the war and waiting to be fixed—or maybe demolished—along with the rest of Eilidh’s life. The destruction of her home was just the cherry on top of Will’s death.

She and the family lived first in a shelter in a school nearby, until they were able to quarter with a Mr. and Mrs. George Westwick, a family whose home had been spared. The volunteers who worked at the school had been kind and sympathetic, and the Westwicks even more so. That didn’t change anything in Eilidh’s mind.

She wasn’t the only one who suffered. Common sense told her that enough, and if she wanted to ignore her own troubles, she could see the evidence on the streets when she went on her daily walk with Granny. Practically every street had at least one or two houses that looked like hers did now, its family probably torn apart like Eilidh’s was. Still, she saw everything only through the prism of her own experience. She saw the bakery (gone) that sold the scones she and Will loved so much he begged her to learn how to bake them herself, the stationery store (also gone) where he had bought the journal he gave her the Christmas before the war began, the park (filled with tents for the homeless) where he played football and she picnicked.

In a way, Eilidh welcomed the city’s smoking, smoldering state. After all, it matched how she felt exactly. It would be unnatural and ungrateful to brood and bury her nose in her diary in a bucolic, idyllic setting, but in the bombed-out city, Eilidh felt a certain degree of justification for her moodiness.

Slowly, London recovered. By the spring of 1942, Eilidh and her family moved out of the Westwicks’ back into their place, which was now haphazardly rebuilt on a temporary basis with linoleum, tarpaulin, and even cardboard. The house’s shabby, pathetic state was good enough for Eilidh and her parents, but not for Granny, however. The house was cold, her favorite chair had been lost, and the still half-built condition of the house meant it was a veritable hazard for a woman in her seventies who was losing her memory.

“Perhaps it’s time you returned to St Andrews,” Eilidh’s mother proposed one evening after Granny had retired. “How ‘bout it, Eilidh? You and Granny, back up north, like before?”

Eilidh tapped the side of her teacup with a spoon, pretending to think about it even though she didn’t need to. “No.”

Her parents made a noise of surprise. In the smooth reflection of her tea, Eildih saw them look at each other. “But—I thought you wanted to go back,” her mother said, trying to understand. “You never wanted to come here in the first place—”

“And now I don’t want to go back to Scotland,” Eilidh interrupted. “That’s all.”

“But Granny can’t stay here,” her father said. “You know that. She’ll be all right in St Andrews, and you can look after her there like you always did. Maybe you could even enroll again. If you were feeling up for it.”

Eilidh didn’t meet her parents’ eyes. She knew they were disappointed in her—again. She didn’t blame them. But she didn’t think she could return to Scotland, not now. If she needed to get away from her grief, St Andrews was no different than London in that respect. It was even worse in some ways. London was so massive, so big, there were a thousand places she didn’t know, a thousand places Will hadn’t known. But they had spent years in St Andrews together, exploring every nook and cranny of the town down to the smallest close. There were very few places that didn’t have some memory with Will.

“Please—Mum, Dad...I can’t. Not now.”

“You don’t think you’d benefit from it?” her father said. “You always do, and you surely know you could do with a palliative.”

Eilidh felt a flush of heat in her cheeks, followed by a stab of guilt for worrying her parents more. Her father wasn’t lying. She was miserable. Everything about London at the moment sickened her. And on the other hand, the sight and smell of the North Sea, the serenity of Lade Braes, the radiant sunsets, and everything else she loved about St Andrews enticed her dearly. It had never failed to fill her with an indelible sense of comfort.

But…

“Not right now,” she muttered.

“Why?”

Eilidh chewed on the inside of her lip. She didn’t trust herself to be able to explain herself coherently. “Will…” was all she could manage. Then she looked up. “You didn’t make him go. Please, please—don’t make me,” she begged.

Her parents glanced at each other. She could tell that they didn’t understand. That was fine with Eilidh. As long as they didn’t make her go before she was ready to. “Not even for Granny?” her mother urged once again.

Eilidh’s mouth wavered in shame. “Mum—You know I love Granny…but…” Eilidh took a deep breath. “I’ve given up so much for her already. I’ve been looking after her for two years; I put my whole degree off so I could do that, and—” I’m tired. She dropped her gaze and glanced aside, not able to speak. Her parents sat back.

“Then—what is to be done?” her mother said quietly.

They would not have the answer to their question for a while. Administration in any industry was slow, and even more so at a time of national crisis and the subject in question was in no imminent danger. But after several weeks of asking, cajoling, and persuading, Eilidh’s parents got permission from the hospital in which they worked to admit her grandmother as a patient in one of their long-term wards. Neither of Eilidhs’ parents specialized in healthcare for elderly people, but at least they would be able to check on her in between shifts and knew that she would be in good hands and cared for.

Eilidh saw her grandmother moved with a whirl of emotions. It wasn’t as if she was dead, and Eilidh visited. But it wasn’t what she had thought would happen, at least not this soon, and she was sure it wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the war—and her own obstinance. Guilt burned a deep hole in her heart, joining the one Will’s death had made. Now that she had more hours in the day, Eilidh thought she would try find her way out of her grief. She hadn’t thought of—or perhaps underestimated—how the absence of her grandmother would weigh almost just as heavily on her mind to the point of distraction.

Her parents tried to help. They always came home with some story about something they had seen that day or with possible things Eilidh could do to keep her distracted and busy. Answering phone calls, sending mail, painting walls.

“Well, what is it you do want to do?” her father asked one day, near to frustration with her after Eilidh nixed yet another potential job.

She pushed around potatoes on her plate. “I don't know.”

“Are you determined to stay in London?” her mother pressed.

Eilidh knit her eyebrows slightly. “I’m not going to St Andrews—”

Her mother held up a hand. ��I know. But what about somewhere else? Not St Andrews.”

That was a thought. It hadn’t really occurred to her. She shrugged.

“Because they’re building a new air base in Thorpe Abbotts,” her father went on. “Roger Farley mentioned it to me yesterday. It’ll be operational next year and they’re hiring civilians to staff the place.”

“Thorpe Abbotts?” Eilidh repeated. “In...?”

“Norfolk. Not too far from here.”

Eilidh stopped moving around the potatoes and began mashing them with the flat of her fork. “You want me to go there?”

Her father looked at her, concerned. “We want you to be happy, Eilidh. And you aren’t happy here, are you?”

It was no use. She couldn’t lie to her parents. She wasn’t happy. She was angry, sad, and resentful in London. “No…” she muttered.

“Then Thorpe Abbotts,” her father prompted again.

Eilidh pursed her lips. “If they need me to be a nurse, I can’t do that—”

“Not nursing. You’d be a part of the Red Cross contingent, but not nursing. Some administrative responsibilities, I’m sure, but also also things to help out the airmen on base and families with boys in the service,” her father said. Now he was grinning a little. “I even hear there’s a need for baking.”

The word caught Eilidh’s attention. She sat up a little straighter. “They need a baker?” She hadn’t been able to bake much since last Christmas, when she had made her and Granny’s holiday biscuits.

“Apparently they need people who can bake sweets and desserts, something nice for when the boys go on a mission,” Eilidh’s mother said. “That might be something you like, wouldn’t it?”

For the first time, Eilidh was intrigued. She liked baking, hadn’t been able to bake in a while, and now there was an opportunity right in front of her. If she had to attend to other business at the same time, so be it.

“What about you and Granny?” Eilidh said slowly.

Her mother smiled. “We’ll be fine. And you may get time to visit on the weekend every once in a while.”

It was the answer Eilidh expected. They never would have brought this opportunity up if they thought it was out of the question for her to leave, she thought. The fact that they encouraged her now was something. The least she could do was consider it. 

Eilidh Hamilton’s Diary

Mum and Dad have suggested that I try working on this new RAF air base in Norfolk. The Red Cross is hiring. I understand it’s essentially a multidisciplinary position, I’d have to do other things, but one of the things I would get to do is bake. I have to admit that it’s a more compelling possibility than the other ones I’ve entertained thus far. I don’t have the stomach to be a nurse and I don’t want to work in a factory. Plus it’s not London or St Andrews.

I just don’t like the idea of leaving Mum and Dad. It feels like I’m abandoning them, and after all this time when I’ve not been a very good daughter in the first place. Although if I do apply and am accepted, I would not actually go there until next year. I guess because they are still literally building the place up at the moment and outfitting it with everything and such. So I would have all that time in between with Mum and Dad and Gran.

The decision wasn’t one that could be made that night, and besides, there was still time to think about it, her parents assured her. So Eilidh did think about it, for a long time. She thought about it while she filled out the application. She thought about it after she sent it off and waited for a month to hear a reply. And then she thought about it some more after it came and informed her she had been accepted and had a week to take the position. And by that time she had decided what she would do.

[prozd]

my favorite things this year

Best Games I Played in 2023

1. Pokemon Scarlet

2. Luck Be a Landlord

3. Great Ace Attorney Chronicles

4. Meow Tower

5. Until Dawn

6. Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team

7. Fire Emblem

8. Yakuza 3

9. Dragon Quest V

10. Final Fantasy III

also good: Aggretsuko Match 3, Dragon Quest II

Best Shows I Watched in 2023

1. Bocchi the Rock

2. Physical 100

3. The Devil's Plan

4. The Last of Us

5. Love Live Superstar

also good: One Piece (live-action)

Best Movies I Watched in 2023

1. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

2. Blackberry

3. John Wick: Chapter 4

4. RRR

5. Ride Your Wave

6. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

7. The Shape of Water

8. Nimona

9. Promare

10. Heart and Yummie

also good: Conan O'Brien Can't Stop, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, The Lighthouse, Booksmart, Barbie, Miss Hokusai

Best Board Games I Played in 2023

1. Gloomhaven: Jaws of the Lion

2. Pandemic Legacy: Season 0

3. Welcome to the Moon

4. Two Rooms and a Boom

5. Kitchen Rush

6. My City

7. Pandemic Legacy: Season 2

8. Star Wars: The Deck-Building Game

9. Undaunted: North Africa

10. Dorfromantik: The Board Game

also good: Exit: The Game - The Gate Between Worlds, Anomia, Fabled Fruit, Monikers, Sky Team, Phantom Ink, Adrenaline, Honey Buzz, Godzilla: Tokyo Clash, Clever Cubed, Heat: Pedal to the Metal, Tales of the Arabian Nights, Poetry for Neanderthals, Legendary Encounters: The Matrix

[sleepykas]

God i love Hireath so far. Like you don't understand how refreshing it is to find such a well written fabrication where Sun and Moon act like their in-game self. Also I live your asshole Sun like WOW he's amazingly written- the passive aggressive and straight up aggressive uncalled for behavior has me wild. Not even to mention Moon- he's my favorite character thus far. He's just a little prankster guy. He's just so him. Rrr I love your writing style and Y/N like yay! We have a backbone! Very good. Anyways, I will be eagerly awaiting the next chapter! Love your work!

WAIT HOLD UP. WAIT. YOUR HONOR. I'M SO FLATTERED OH MY GOD. THANK YOU!!!!!

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will & Monique Chapter 2

You can read the rest of the story here

Here’s the next chapter guys! This couple will be a slow burn for the first couple of chapters but I promise we will get there. This story will be much slower to update than RRR which is currently my priority. I want to try the gap up to 4x19 where this started and where I am with RRR. I'm pretty far behind. This story won't follow chapter by chapter like the other one-I'm giving myself a lot more creative freedom but it will follow med storyline-ish.

Will keeps a close eye on Monique for the next week. He had been monopolizing her on his service, just to make sure she was okay. Not that she had done anything worrying. She seemed fine and did her job up to the standard that she always has. She may have been a little more withdrawn or tired but it was hard for Will to tell.

Monique had always been on the quieter side. She didn’t seem to gossip or linger around the nurse's station. He never noticed how much of a busy bee Monique was. The girl didn’t sit still. They were having a pretty relaxed night shift yet every time he turned, he seemed to see a flash of her blonde ponytail heading off somewhere new.

He had been asked to cover a couple of night shifts while the night ED doctor went to a wedding in Seattle. When he had come for his shift Monique had already been there. Her name was listed for a double shift. He had caught her in the longue an energy drink in her short-manicured fingers. The can was orange with scales and a yellow eye printed on the side. “Venom- mango flavored,” Monique's startled her turning to see Will heading towards his locker the door closing softly behind her. “I didn’t take you for an energy drinker.”

Her eyes glanced down to the can before going back to Will. “I know they are bad for you but I’ve been drinking them since I was thirteen and I can’t quite give them up.” She admits tapping her fingers on the can.

“Well, I imagine you crave them when you are pulling doubles and the crash is starting to hit.” Will shot her a charming smile putting his stethoscope around his neck. She smiled back at him taking another small sip. They were the only things that could get her through when her insomnia struck and she was having a minor bout at the moment. It was why she had offered to work a double.

“I didn’t know you were on a night rotation Dr. Hal-” Will gave her a pointed look and she corrected herself, “Will.” He had told her to start calling him by his first name last week and she still was having trouble with it. She didn’t call any of the doctors by their first names. It was too personal and seemed like only Maggie and April could pull off at work.

“Yeah, well Mack is in Seattle for a wedding, so they needed the coverage.” They were interrupted by another nurse coming in and calling for Will for an incoming trauma. Monique downed the rest of the liquid, tossing the can in the trash as she followed him towards the door. She paused only mildly surprised when he held the door open for her allowing her to go out first.

The next few hours went by in a blur. The ED wasn’t busy but it had a steady inflow. Will was heading to check on the car accident victim who was brought in at the beginning of his shift. He was an older Latino man who spoke no English and had his wife translate for him. He was checking his tablet for his test result as he was entering the room. He heard the man speaking, conversation flowing easily even with his bruised ribs.

Will had assumed he was talking to his wife but when he looked up, he saw that blonde ponytail. Monique was smiling brightly at the man her arms crossed leaning on the rail of the bed as she laughed lightly nodding along with what he was saying. Will paused and watched as her voice got slightly higher than he was used to hearing and Spanish words fell from her lips. It sounded natural and thoughtless as the man patted her arm.

The man noticed Will and grinned at him calling out El Medico. Will Spanish was limited at best but even he knew that one- doctor. Monique turned to face him feeling guilty for slacking off but Will was all smiles. “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.”

“I don’t really.” At his raised eyebrow she felt the need to explain further, “That is I didn’t do it in school- I'm not certified for it.”

“I don’t think you are giving yourself enough credit. You seemed pretty proficient to me.” Monique looked down her face flushing at his complement, even if she didn’t feel the same.

“I get by,” She offered instead. Monique had only ever taken one Spanish class in high school. It had been an easy A. She didn’t remember ever really learning to speak it. But most memories of her childhood were often blurred, especially her earlier years. She just remembered being young and her father dropping her off at her half-brother's house. He had left almost immediately after and she was left in a crowd of strangers. One was his ex-girlfriend who wasn’t a big fan of his gringa daughter.

A pale white ghost amid a festive Hispanic family. Most didn’t speak English so she had been confused and felt out of place in the house. It had soon become a pattern on her father’s days with her she would be dropped off there. Monique didn’t remember the struggle of learning Spanish. It happened like a flip of a light switch. One day she couldn’t understand them the next she was speaking it fluently.

“Do you feel comfortable enough to translate?”

When the shift was over Will caught Monique on the stairs to leave, calling her name to get her to wait up. “Hey, I’m sorry to keep you. I know you are probably ready to go home and get some sleep. But I just wanted to check in and see how you were holding up.” The nurse's eyebrows scrunch together as she thinks over her shift and what he could be referring to. Noticing her confusion Will continued, “After the lockdown. I just wanted to make sure you were still doing alright. That you were getting the support you need.”

“Oh,” That was not what the blonde was expecting. Dr. Charles had been keeping his eye on her consistently popping by to make sure she was okay but she hadn’t thought Will would still be worried about her. “Thank you, for checking in. I’m doing okay. How about you Dr.-Will?” He looked as surprised as she felt when she redirected the question back at him.

“I doing okay. I’ve learned from my experience with the Burkes that you have to talk about this stuff to keep your head straight. So, I’ve been talking to Dr. Charles.” Will wasn’t sure why he told her that, maybe she was just easy to talk to. Monique didn’t seem to have a judgmental bone in her body.

“Me too,” Monique offered her camaraderie. Will gestured for her to start down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, he started ushering her to the parking lot offering to walk her to her car but she stopped pointing in the opposite direction. “Actually, I took the bus.” His hand went to her midback the warmth soaking through her clothes. He pressed gently urging her forward. The touch was natural and guiding but it was the most physical affection she had gotten in months.

“You’ll be waiting for another half hour. C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” Monique looked back at the empty bus stop. He was right, the first bus wasn’t even running yet. The sun was peeking out its rays warm but the wind chill was cold and cutting. A warm car with a direct route home sounded like heaven but she didn’t want to impose on anyone. Especially not a higher-up at work.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I offered.” His brown eyes were as warm as his tone but bore no room for argument. When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door waiting for her to climb in before closing the door behind her.

[ramcharantitties]

Rangrez

Sita's note: hello everyone I am back with a new series! Please give love and support to this one, all RRR and Heeramandi lovers <3. Thanks to @vijayasena for name recommendation :)

Chapter 1: Kainat

The sun started to meet its horizon, and lights were turned up in the streets of Heeramandi. Pigeons flew away, taking their rounds and the dogs strolled carelessly. Sounds of girls laughing were audible in some houses, and sound of ghungroo in other. It was only hers where the sound of broken mirror was heard.

Kainat met the floor, her hands saving her as much as they can but still not being able to save her now bleeding lips. She wiped it with the back of her hand, and looked back up at her. Rehana. The hatred was evident, not less than the anger on her face. "If you don't say yes to them I will chop you up and feed away your pieces to the stray dogs." That was the last thing she heard from her. Kainat braced and picked herself up from the floor. She sauntered back in, aware of Rehana's sister watching the show as she nursed her child. Even she fell in love and birthed, then why couldn't Kainat? She didn't know, and didn't wish to wonder. All she wanted was to not to be given to the nawab- to wait for her lover who left her. But that was too much to ask for from Rehana.

Kainat sat by the edge of her doorframe, looking at the pink sky. Her cheek and lips throbbed. For Rehana, the nawab wasn't that bad. But Kainat knew what words of actions he told in her ear, sending a chill down her spine. She looked at the bustling street, hoping to see the face of the man she had grown to love, only for him to disappear. Weak. The punishment of her mistrust was going to be a lifetime of slavery. Kainat blinked back the tears, a lump in her throat. His name doesn't last on her lips anymore.

"Oh mohe aavan keh gaye aashiq rang aur beet gayi barso, sakal ban"

The slow hum of her voice didn't reach outside her room, but did settle in her heart as she sat on the bed. Kainat lost herself in Lahore, and her runaway lover was never coming back. She fell back, landing on the mattress, tears streaming down the side of her face. Kainat also heard Mallika cry that night, Rehana doesn't give mercy to anyone in Shahi Mahal.

It was 5 in the evening when Kainat woke up. She has to leave for a trip with the nawab today. "You should be happy for such fate" Rehana muttered as she brushed the locks out of Kainat's hair. "The nawab said he can't wait to use me" the dead pan in Kainat's noise wasn't hiding anymore. "What's wrong with that?" Rehana said the obvious statement and decorated the braid with pieces of jewel. The only light in her life was reflecting off from her jewellery. Nawab promised to take Kainat to Bombay once before permanently keeping her there. "Just a taste of the wind" he said, blowing the smoke of hookah on her moon like face. Kainat inhaled the burning scent, her lungs burning and giving her a reality check. Of what is to come, of what she deserved.

Satto was more than kind to pack Kainat's favourite books, her favourite perfumes, snacks, ghungroo, money and favourite jewelry in a bag for Kainat to keep it close, to remind her of Heeramandi. It was too much for a week's trip, but she felt like she has already started losing herself to the ways of the Nawab. The pink evening turned to black night, just like Kainat's life. Kainat went to light up Rehana's room, one last time, when the sight of a jewelry set caught her eyes. Kainat always wanted it but nothing good comes from Rehana for her. She stood there frozen, her hand holding the diya. She could hear Phatto calling for her in background, saying the nawab is here. Kainat quickly hid the jewelry behind her heavy dupatta, leaving the room with entities.

The ride to the railway station was quiet deafening. All nawab did was boast about his properties and how he will keep her happy, how she will enjoy being used, and it won't matter if she doesn't enjoy it. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, which she didn't bother wiping. They got off on the railway station, but Kainat carried her own bag packed by Satto, with the stolen jewelry in it. They stalled when they entered a room, and Kainat was supposed to wait outside, alone. Apparently Nawab had to meet someone before leaving. From the corner of her eyes, Kainat caught a glimpse of light.

She took a step back, glancing at the wide open gate looking back at her. Inviting, attracting. Her steps moved forward, fastening each time, when she finally stepped foot on the iron floor of the train. A huge sigh of relief left her body, followed by a sob. Finding an empty seat, she sat down, trusting her faith. Kainat didn't know where she was going. A jerk pulled her back to the world, when she accepted leaving Lahore and hopefully her cursed life behind. That easy. Was it always so easy? To escape from the hell called Shahi Mahal and Heeramandi? From her own cousin, Rehana? She could see Nawab's men looking for the runaway woman, but it didn't matter anymore. She has left Lahore behind now.

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Tagging: @jkdaddy01 @ramayantika @definitelyhim @starlight-1010 @panikk-attackkk @vijayasena @lilliebeingdelulu @multifandom-boss-bitch @yehsahihai