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wileys-russo · 4 months

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Jessie Fleming

Reader is a physiotherapist at Chelsea, and always spends time in the physio office. :)

regular visitor II j.fleming

getting to work that day you hustled to grab your bag out of the car and hurry inside, well aware that due to some shitty london morning traffic you were running twenty minutes late.

it wasn't a game day thankfully but you knew this would set you back as you had appointments lined up all morning back to back, emma wanting all of the girls to have a quick check up and check in since most of them had only just returned from international break.

"morning!" you sang out with a rushed smile, swiping your card at reception and almost sprinting off toward the physio's office, arriving with a sigh of relief seeing there wasn't a line of disgruntled players yet.

"emma called a squad meeting so everythings been pushed back, you're fine. breathe!" linda the other physio on today assured as you collapsed at your desk with a groan, limbs on fire from running. "thank you!" you gestured up to the sky making the woman laugh and sit down across from you, running you through the schedule for the day.

"so peter and will are in for the afternoon too?" you clarified, the check ups having been moved to after lunch as linda nodded. "makes it smoother to go through the whole team without having to rush anything." the woman explained as you nodded in agreement.

a knock at the door gained your attention as you looked up to see a familiar face hovering in the doorway. "morning jess!" linda greeted them, taking her copy of the schedule and gently sliding past her, off for a meeting with some of the training staff.

"ahh first day back from break and you're the first face i see fleming, how unusual." you teased as the canadian gave you a sheepish grin. "you know maybe i should just get you your own personal bench at this point." you continued with a wink as jessie blushed.

"are you here for help or for a chat?" you asked, half serious and half joking, the midfielder rolling her eyes playfully. "strictly a professional visit, but we always chat anyway." jessie pointed out which you couldn't deny, but the footballer also had no leg to stand on as she did often find herself hanging about in your office in little bubbles of free time.

"tape time?" you laughed knowingly, a flurry of nods greeting you as you gestured for her to take a seat, the girl frequently in the same position. "so how was being back home?" you questioned with a smile, grabbing out what you needed as jessie hauled herself up onto the bench.

"cold. you think this is bad? canada is fucking freezing man! the icicles have icicles." the canadian shook her head making you laugh, missing the way she lit up at the sound. "so whats troubling you today then?" you asked moving to stand over her as a panicked look crossed her face.

"what? what do you mean?" jessie stammered out nervously. "with the tape. what do you need taped?" you chuckled, jessie exhaling with a nervous chuckle. "oh! right. left knee, took a wild slide tackle and its felt a little tight since." jessie shrugged.

"mm yeah its feeling okay, there is a little tension but have you done much in the way of cardio since you;ve been back?" you asked, massaging her knee and thigh between your hands as jessie opened and closed her mouth.

"jess?" you asked with a concerned frown when she didn't answer, the midfielder shaking her head for a moment. "oh! not really. i only landed two days ago and i've been trying to fix my sleep schedule." the girl admitted with a small smile.

"mm the joys of jetlag! did you see your family when you were home?" you started to tape up her knee, jessie recounting a few stories, brightening up anytime she managed to make you laugh.

"-so you made her eat snow? harsh!" you shook your head with a smile. "not eat it! the snowball just happened to accidentally, maybe a little on purpose, hit her in the mouth." jessie held her hands up in defence as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"poor cloe. never knew you were such a sore loser fleming." you teased, tapping her thigh to let her know you were done, taking a step back as jessie frowned already missing the contact of your hands against her skin.

"i am not!" jessie huffed, crossing her arms. "sure." you drawled sarcastically with a smile. "now go! if you're late for strength training emma will have my head." you chuckled as she hopped down and you sat back at your desk.

"hey would you maybe want to-" you looked up with a quirked eyebrow and the eye contact seemed to suck the question from her as the canadian shook her head, waving it off and hurrying out of the room.

you'd just finished taping up a few more of the girls later in the day when you saw the familiar face pop back in. "again! what can i do for you jessica?" you laughed, turning around and missing the way both guro and niamh shot her a knowing look, shoving the canadian as they left the room.

"my calves are really locked up." jessie pulled herself to sit up on the bench again as you hummed, grabbing out a bottle of massage oil and gesturing for her to lay down.

the girl breathed a sigh of relief as you began to massage out the knots and tension in her lower legs, and though that wasn't the reason she'd really come here it was a bonus.

"so how was your break?" jessie asked, propping herself up on one arm to look at you. "well i'm not a footballer so i didn't have one!" you reminded with a laugh, the midfielders face flushing bright red in embarrassment.

"oh shit i'm sorry i didn't-" you waved off her apology as you moved onto her other leg. "it was much more quiet around here with only a few of the girls needing treatment. caught up on all my paperwork!" you smiled with a wink, jessies head thumping back down onto the bench as she looked to the roof.

"alright! all done." you squeezed her ankle and moved to wash your hands. "oh wait! my uh, my shoulder is a little tight. we were doing...throw ins!" jessie sat up as you narrowed your eyes.

"mm well we can't have that." you gestured for her to turn around as you gave her shoulder a squeeze. "higher or lower?" you asked, the canadian guiding you to where her 'pain' was.

"okay, shirt off." you nodded as jessie quickly stripped off her training top leaving her in only a sports bra, and you caught the red which coated her cheeks before her head faced the wall.

"so what are you doing after work?" jessie asked, wincing at the awkwardness in her tone. "going home." you answered with a smile, working through the small knot in her shoulder. "oh! cool, cool." jessie nodded, pulling a face which she was grateful you couldn't see.

"you know, if you have something to ask me, you can just ask." you encouraged, unsure if you were misreading the situation but having a feeling she was dancing around her true intentions. "no no i don't want to bother you." she shook her head, knee bouncing nervously.

"okay. because you know if you wanted to ask me out you can just do it. instead of making up all of these injuries and excuses to come and hang out with me in here during work hours." you spoke casually but the words caused jessie to choke on air as she spun around and pulled her shirt back on.

you watched with amusement as the canadian opened and closed her mouth clearly in shock. "you're cute jess, but we gotta work on your confidence!" you patted her leg with a smile, stepping back a little.

"i'm free tonight, if you were wondering." you sat down at your desk and pulled out millies file, seeing her for a one on one next. "okay! would you like to get dinner?" jessie hopped down and played nervously with her hands.

"i'd love to." you answered softly, watching as her face lit up. "okay. awesome! great." jessie nodded happily, making a beeline for the door as you cleared your throat. "would you like my number so we can make a plan for dinner?" you asked, her face paling as she nodded.

you held your hand out for her phone, saving your number in it and handing it back to her. "better text me fleming." you warned playfully as she backed out of the room. "i will! promise." you melted at the grin on her face as she left, hearing her footsteps thud away.

"oh hey! you look beautiful today by the way." your head lifted up as hers popped back in, sending you a charming smile before running off again.

"see you're already getting better with the confidence jess, keep it up!"

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso blurbs #woso community #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming

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collecting-stories · 8 months

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Treacherous - Remus Lupin

Request: i love you taylor swift song series!! i was wondering if you could possibly write a fic for treacherous using remus lupin:)) xoxo

Summary: After being left suddenly some months earlier the reader stumbles upon Remus in an old bookshop.

A/N: I made this more as Remus being the one sort of, cautious to trust the relationship and then kind of being pulled in because I thought it made for a nice story that way.

TS Anthology Series | Harry Potter Masterlist

...I hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay...

"So this is where you've been hiding?" you asked, fingers running over the edge of a cling-film wrapped fudge brownie. You picked it up off the tray of baked goods and set it atop the book you had laid on the counter. A pretty hardback edition of Dracula that you probably wouldn't even crack the spine on but that you would proudly display on your bookshelf.

You hadn't come up to Tyne upon Wear looking for Remus, obviously. You hadn't heard from him in months and weren't even entirely sure where he had landed after leaving Hogwarts and then James summer cottage. It was an accident of nature, a fluke (though you could hear Peter in the back of your head saying that it was 'fate') that you were here for holiday and that you had walked into this bookstore.

"I've not been hiding," Remus rebuffed, taking the book and the brownie, his fingers brushing yours. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged, "no one. I just assumed, I mean, this isn't exactly close to anyone." You knew Sirius had gotten a flat in London and Lily and James were talking about Godric's Hollow. Peter was in London too but you felt like you rarely saw him these days, though more than Remus.

"My nan's from this area," he replied, eyes never straying from the till. He'd seen you outside the window, staring a book on display, partially obscured by the sign painted on the glass. Hiding seemed like a marvelous idea, ducking down behind the counter or slipping behind a bookcase. Marvelous but impractical, probably, at the very least unprofessional. And besides, he was too slow to act. He felt like he'd frozen in place the moment you appeared, as if someone had cast a petrificus totalus spell over him. Remus just stood there and then you turned your head to the side and looked through the window and saw him and smiled.

When you came into the shop, Remus wasn't entirely sure if the bells he could hear ringing where the ones above the door or the ones in his own head. You hadn't said anything at first, just smiled and browsed around the front of the store, very obviously for show, before plucking a book off a shelf that Remus knew you owned, putting it on the counter for him to ring up. He'd expected you to hate him the next time you saw each other. Perhaps you would yell or give him the cold shoulder or, worst of all, he'd be gone so long that you would move on without him. But here you were and you didn't look upset at all. As if he hadn't disappeared, as if you believed him when he lied and said he wasn't hiding.

"I don't think I knew that," you looked genuinely like you were trying to remember if he had ever mentioned his nan to you or where in Britain she lived.

"What are you, uh...what are you doing here?" He asked, moving away from the topic of his family (always a rather delicate matter as you knew) and onto something more important, at least in his mind. You were here and you must've been here for a reason and he hadn't spoken to Lily or James or Sirius or Peter in months which meant that no one could have let on that he was here. No one knew, as far as he was aware, aside from himself and he wasn't advertising the information.

"Oh, on holiday," you replied. "I was quite influenced by Sirius...or at least that awful monstrosity of his."

"The bike?" Remus asked, eyebrow raising in suspicion, "you've not bought one, have you?"

"No, god no. But I have come into possession of a lovely little green people-carrier. It's quite lovely and I've decided to drive it up the coast to Scotland. Trouble is, I always forget about the petrol until I get going," you explained, "I'm afraid I ran out of gas. A very friendly old man in a funny looking truck picked me up though, picked up the car as well! I believe he called it a tow. How marvelous really, a tow."

"So an empty tank brought you here?" He clarified. How truly like you to forget something so vital but also how like the universe to play such terrible tricks on him as this one. To have you strand yourself on the side of a road just kilometers from him and forced to be deposited into his town. "Where are you staying?"

"A cute little B&B. My room has floral wallpaper and a little tea kettle on a hot-plate. I've not used the hot-plate though the old lady explained it to me...seems very tricky if you ask me. I'd much rather just magic the pot."

"I don't know of any....that is, I think the town is largely muggles." Remus replied.

"I gathered. Don't worry Remus, I haven't been waving my wand about everywhere I go." You laughed. You took the bag he pushed across the counter, your book and brownie inside. "I missed you quite a lot."

Graduation had felt wildly exciting. All that talk of future plans and goals had never been overshadowed, even when inklings of sadness had crept through at the thought of not seeing your friends every single day for months at a time. You would all be close, you were sure of it. James planned the summer holiday, an almost immediate trip to a summer cottage for a small (though large at the final head count) group of friends to avoid saying anything like goodbye to each other right away.

The summer cottage had been lovely and you and Remus had only just begun dating each other before the holiday, still shy about each other in the way that new romances are. It had felt exciting, to be away with him. You'd been friends for so long, seven years, and then you were dating and suddenly it was like everything was new and you thought it would all last forever. But then you'd woken up on the last morning at the cottage and Remus was gone and you didn't see him again. Until this very moment, in a tiny bookshop in a little seaside village of muggles.

"I'm sorry," Remus began to say but you shook your head, stopping him from saying anything more.

"No need to be sorry," you promised. You'd experienced a vast range of emotions in the days and weeks and months post Remus' departure. Ultimately though, you knew your friend well and knew that (despite Sirius always getting the credit for being the one most prone to dramatics) Remus could be very dramatic when he chose to be. Disappearing was not as surprising as you would have liked it to be when you actually thought about it and had resolved yourself to the knowledge that should he choose to, he would show up again. He couldn't stay disappeared forever. And you were mildly thrilled to know that you were right about that, though he was found out against his will, completely by accident. "You're not as unpredictable as you might think Remus."

"I wasn't trying to be unpredictable," he reasoned, "I just-"

"I know." You cut him off, "I've had ages to think out all your reasonings and arguments and I've reenacted them all with myself. I can't imagine you could argue your case any better than I already have," you explained. "Now, what time does this little shop close?"

"Why?"

"Because I just told you that I missed you and I'm certainly not planning on walking out the door and leaving and not seeing you again Remus. In this singular case I would use Peter's reasoning and say that this," you gestured between the two of you, "is certainly fate. I'm not one to ignore fate, should think you wouldn't want to either."

Remus sighed, shoulders relaxing as though he were giving up a fight and probably, he was. "About an hour. I need to sweep up when I'm done. And there are a few books left to put away."

"Oh well, that's much too much work love, I simply can't wait that long." You joked, looking around the shop. You and he were the only ones in there. "Shall I browse around or can I have a stool?"

"I only have the one," he replied, side eyeing the stool that was placed beside him behind the counter. He wasn't sitting on it and hadn't in the entire time you'd been there.

"Is it a prized possession?" You joked, "or am I just not allowed behind the till?"

Remus shrugged, "you are."

You came around the side of the counter, placing your bag down and sitting on the stool beside him. You fished the brownie back out of the bag and carefully removed the cling-film, "are you allowed a snack on the clock?"

"You don't really have to wait here," Remus said, taking the brownie piece from you and popping it into his mouth.

You watched him for a moment, suddenly well aware how many 'little things' there were about him that you had missed. Minute details like the satisfied smile he always gave away without knowing when he ate something sweet. Or the way he brushed his thumb across the tips of his fingers, ridding his hand of invisible crumbs.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked, realizing that you were watching him, cheeks staining a lovely pink at the attention.

"I am committing you to memory, in case you should disappear again."

"I didn't mean to leave you...I mean," he sighed, hands clasping together as he cracked a few of his knuckles. You noted a newer looking scar on the back of his left hand. Your boy was never careful with himself when he was alone.

"Relationships as scary for everyone Remus," you replied. You had already been through all these conversations, you wanted to remind him. You knew what he would say. "Sometimes you just have to decide it's important enough to do the scary thing."

"How philosophical of you."

"No need to be mean to me," you replied, hearing the edge in his voice.

He shook his head. Taking a box of books that was sitting behind the counter, Remus passed you and walked around the counter, out to the middle of the shop. You watched him disappear behind a bookcase, going to house some books and avoid further conversation on the topic of his leaving. You knew it was a sore subject for him (Remus was quite talented at making almost everything a sore subject for himself) but it wasn't easy for you either. He was the one who had left but you were the one who was left behind.

"Do you love me?" You think aloud, turning in your stool to try and see Remus down an aisle. You can hear the soft rustle of books stop abruptly and then he appears, as tall as the case itself, eyes wide as he stares at you from behind the fringe that hangs in his face. He looks surprised, perhaps caught off-guard and you aren't really shocked. He'd told you plenty of times that he did, over and over for months from the week after you began dating until the early hours of the morning in James' summer cottage, hours before he left you.

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

"Why would you ask me that?" Remus questioned, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously.

"Because I want to know the answer," you offered, "do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," he finally replied, frowning.

"Well, it's hard to know Remus, you did leave after all."

"You said you weren't upset about that." He reasoned.

"No, I believe I said that I'd already given myself all your arguments. I considered that maybe you didn't love me and that was the reason. A clean break...I only considered it for a moment though, you wouldn't have left everyone like that if you didn't love just me," you explained, "so I thought about it and I decided that you did love me."

"Then why ask?"

You ignored his question, continuing your explanation instead, "you love me but you're ridiculously afraid of that."

The look he gave was particularly sour, as though he was trying to be mad but couldn't quite bring himself to stop being embarrassed at having been caught out long enough to succeed in being angry. "What's your point?"

"We've been friends since we were eleven, sitting beside each other on the train. And I've known about you since third year," you reminded him, "so what are you afraid of?"

"We all have our own lives now," Remus argued, as if that was actually a legitimate reason for leaving everyone behind, "you don't need to be burdened with-"

"You know I love you also," you said, cutting him off, "I hate when you say things like that. Burdened, as if I'm not actively choosing to sit here with you and ask that you give it another go."

"It's different out here. There is no shrieking shack. Sirius, James, Peter...they have their own lives. They can't be dropping everything whenever it's a full moon. We can't go on this way forever."

"You may not, you said yourself that Dumbledore told you there was a potionist working on something for-"

"It wouldn't stop the transformation...if it works," Remus replied, "I just, wouldn't lose my mind. And you'll remember that Dumbledore said it would be extremely difficult to come by and even harder to make." He pointed out.

You sighed, standing up from the stool and walking over to him, "always the pessimist. What are you afraid of?"

"I've told you," he took a step back, as if he were afraid that you might cage him in.

"Not really," you argued, "you've given me plenty of excuses though. I'm not afraid of you, Remus, and none of your friends would ever leave you alone with anything. You know that."

"I can hardly find work. I've been here four months and missed countless days, if it did any real business I doubt they'd want me around. How can I contribute to any sort of relationship if I can't even work. Not to mention that afterward I'm," he glanced at the newer scare on his hand and you knew what he meant, he used to spend days after in the infirmary when you were at Hogwarts, "and I've a terrible temper, which I know you are aware of, and you were right before I was being mean, and I still haven't quit smoking and I have a terrible diet. Can hardly keep anything down these days, I'm always nervous. And I don't like to go out and I'm not very romantic and I have terrible insomnia-"

"I know all of these things about you Remus," you replied, cutting him off as he rambled.

Remus sighed, setting the books in his hands down on the shelf and then, unsure of what to do with himself, reached for your hands (which you gave willingly). "I have very little control over most things in my life and I...as trifling as it sounds, I'm quite terrified of giving up control of my emotions," Remus admitted, "suppose that's what I'm afraid of after all, allowing myself to love you. God, I sound like some tragic muggle novel."

"You sound very honest, and not trifling at all," you replied, "you're allowed to be afraid Remus, but you've got to vocalize these things. Running off to a little corner of England alone isn't a very good solution. Don't punish yourself...or me for that matter."

"I know."

"Besides," you mentioned, tugging his hands gently so that he moved closer to you, so close in fact that you had to tilt your head just slightly to look him in the eye, "you know me well enough to know I'll take supremely good care of all your parts, heart very much included."

He hummed, "good to know." He leaned ever closer, to give you a kiss and to relish in the sensation of being kissed by you, something he had not allowed himself to enjoy for months and now wondered how it was he had managed for even an hour. You were right, and he wasn't surprised by that fact at all. He had been afraid and could still feel the grip of that fear in the back of him mind, no matter how distracting (or reassuring) you managed to be. "I do love you," Remus admitted again, "very much. My leaving...it wasn't because of you, and I never meant to hurt you. I didn't...I didn't think I would."

"You didn't think I would be absolutely gutted?"

"I suppose I was trying not to think too much about it at all," he replied, honestly. Remus wasn't nearly as daring as James could be, or Sirius for that matter, but he liked to think that in most aspects he was willing to take a risk. It was in the matter of giving himself to some that he found he struggled. If he gave too much away, what would be left of him at departure (and he was always expecting a departure). He'd given all of himself to his friendships, to James and Lily and Sirius and Peter. How could he risk anyone else being granted the ability to hurt him?

But then, you'd been more than willing to take that risk, wholly unafraid of one year or four years or ten years down the road. You weren't thinking in endings, only in right then. And right then you loved him (though probably tomorrow you would too. And in one year, four years, ten years).

He kissed you again, because even the minutes between when he had just kissed you and right at the moment he did it again felt like it had been too long. He'd missed you terribly and he hadn't really let himself acknowledge it until he'd seen you through the window.

"I do have to finish closing up," Remus admitted, pulling away from you.

"Do you?"

"You can help," he replied, "stop distracting me."

"I'm not being distracting," you laughed, "if anything you're the one who's distracting."

"How so?" He let go of you and moved back toward the box of books, beginning to sort through them.

"How so?" You repeated the question, a tone of disbelief in your voice as you stared at him. "Well I would tell you but I doubt that you would believe me."

"Probably not," he admitted, knowing his proclivity for self-deprecation.

You shook your head at him, looking about the small shop, "alright where's the broom then? I'll sweep up," you said, "no magic, I suppose?"

"No magic."

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rubykgrant · 5 months

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(Segment of my story, How It Feels, with Jon and Martin recovering at Daisy's cabin after leaving London, and before the Eye Apocalypse happens. This in particular focuses on Martin, how he's changed since being in the Lonely, and how he is also still himself. This involves tooth loss and feelings of depression/disassociation, but isn't gory, and leans more toward being comforting. Inspired by the art of @lonelyslutavatar ~)

Jon is quite proud of himself for responding to Martin in a very calm manner, instead of rushing in and assuming the worst.

The calm quickly shatters when he sees Martin standing in the bathroom, face a mix of embarrassed and worried, holding two teeth in the palm of his hand.

Several teeth-related horror stories from past statements flash into Jon’s mind (the apple, a few dozen about some sort of “evil tooth fairy” that were probably not real but still upsetting, and several connected to the Flesh and the Hunt). Jon nearly starts to panic as well, but somehow he composes himself, and moves slowly, helping Martin sit down on the lid of the toilet, and begins trying to figure this out.

Martin has some pain in his jaw, but nothing feels “broken”, and there isn’t any blood. The teeth look “fine”, except for the fact that they aren’t where they should be. Jon asks Martin to open his mouth, and it doesn’t appear as if anything is infected or irritated. To be thorough, Jon runs to get a small torch.

“I’m VERY close to freaking out! Just so you know!” Martin says, loudly.

“Yes, I’m- I’m sorry, I’ll be there in a-”

“ANOTHER ONE JUST CAME LOOSE!” Martin is able to spit it out before yelling the news to Jon. He does NOT want to swallow any of his teeth.

“I’M COMING BACK! HERE! HERE I AM!” Jon stumbles to a stop at the small door, and walks back in carefully.

This time, Martin opens his mouth WIDE, and Jon shines the little light to see properly.

“Oh,” Jon says after a moment.

“Oh? Oh, WHA?” Martin asks, making sure his mouth doesn’t close.

“Oh, um… I sort of see the- er, the issue?” Jon answers, without actually giving Martin a real answer.

“Wha ih ih?” What is it?

“Well, I can see the empty areas, where your teeth were, and… it looks like something is, er- pushing them out?” Jon elaborates. Martin finds this description unhelpful and worrisome.

“UH HUH UH AH EEE?!” The fuck does that mean?! Good God, what was in his mouth?

“Sorry! There are NEW teeth coming in! Like- like when we lose our baby teeth, and-”

“I AREHEE AH I AHEE HEE! HOW OOH I HAH OR!?” Martin demands, and after a brief second of trying to translate it in his head, Jon realizes Martin has just said- “I already lost my baby teeth! How do I have more!?”.

“Uhh…” before Jon can say anything else, two more teeth fall out, helped by Martin’s attempts to talk. These were from his top row, on the left side. They completely leave Martin’s mouth, and land in his lap. Martin groans, irritated. Jon tries to speak again, before something else distracts him. “If- I had to guess, which is all I’m doing, I’m sorry, this- this might be like your OWN spooky puberty?”

Martin groans again, giving Jon a glare.

“You were working with- hell I’m just saying his name, Peter, you were working with Peter for a while, and before that you were working at the Institute. That changed all of us, a little bit, but Peter really pushed you along, and… what finally made me change and become something more than just human was- I died. Sort of. When I was in that coma, I was pretty close to being dead, but then I came back. You were… you were almost ready to fade away when I finally found you, and then you came back. I think you might have become something more than just human,” Jon pauses a moment, to let Martin have a chance to understand what he’s saying… and because another tooth falls out. “And we saw what happens to ME when I don't feed on any statements, so… you haven’t been doing anything at all when it comes feeding what you are connected to,”

Jon places his hand on Martin’s cheek and turns off the torch, letting Martin know he can close his mouth again. Martin does so, and then immediately gives an angry huff, spitting still another tooth into his hand. He gathers up the rest in his lap, so he’s holding all of them together.

“What the hell. The isn’t FAIR. Your- your eyeballs didn’t fall out when YOU changed! And why my TEETH?! Am I supposed to start eating people? Peter didn’t even do that!” Martin blinks a few times, uncertain. “I mean, I never SAW him to that…”

“This might not be so LITERAL. I doubt this is a sign you need to actually eat anybody-”

“Pff, whatever, you don’t KNOW…” Martin scoffs.

“What I mean is- sometimes when people like us change, it isn’t always straight-forward. This might be more… like it symbolically represents the way loneliness can, er- consume you? Eat you up?” Jon is leaning back against the wall opposite Martin, arms crossed anxiously. He hunches his shoulders up, as if to shrug in a way that asks for approval.

Martin does not exactly “approve”, but unfortunately, he’s beginning to see that Jon may have a point. He also remembers that nightmare he had, as if it had been some kind of “punishment” for rejecting the Lonely. The fact that Martin can now remember Peter purposefully pulling him into the Lonely to avoid true and permanent death added up as well. Did the Eye punish Jon when he wouldn’t feed it new fear? Yes, he supposes so.

“Wonderful. So my teeth are falling out as a METAPHOR. And what am I even supposed to DO about it? Read statements that are relevant to feeling forlorn and isolated?” Martin now feels THREE teeth pop loose. Great. More to add to the collection in his hands.

“Perhaps not…” Jon ventures another guess. “That’s sort of the specific thing I’m stuck doing. And it started even before the coma, remember? So maybe- was there anything you did while working with Peter that might have been related to feeding this particular kind of fear? It might have even been something that seemed almost normal, but the more it happened, the more it had an affect on you, and when you stopped, you felt strange?”

Martin’s first reaction is to just say NO, because he’s in an ornery mood (Why shouldn’t he be moody? His teeth are falling out! He has a right!). Instead, he tries to give Jon’s question some real thought…

When Jon was still in the coma, and Peter first became the “new boss”, Martin had initially tried to take on more responsibility as a way to shield other people from the problems that came from working so closely with… a man like that. The most unnerving part was how pleasant Peter seemed. He often asked Martin to come along as his personal assistant when he went on various errands; some were clearly for meeting with other unusual people part of the whole Fear situation, while others were part of the more normal side of business for the Magnus Institute.

These people, in either situation, would usually not even acknowledge Martin at all until Peter made a point to turn to him, ask a question or make a request, and then they’d startle to see there was a WHOLE man there beside Peter. When Martin got more used to it all, he’d speak up on his own, blatantly pointing out when somebody was giving Peter incorrect information or outright lying. In those moments, they were not only surprised that Martin existed, they were suddenly INTIMIDATED by him.

Peter was very amused by this, and proudly complimented Martin on being so “accomplished”.

Yeah, that may have been how this started.

Martin was well practiced at going unnoticed, keeping quiet, fading into the background. That was a good way to keep yourself safe. It was also a good way to be lonely. The shock of suddenly being given attention no doubt fed Peter’s patron Fear plenty of Martin’s own nervous energy… and when Martin did it on purpose, making himself known with an aloof sort of confidence, it caused unease in other people. The Lonely probably loved feeding on all that.

That was the start… but what turned it into a pattern, something that Martin had to continue doing, and also something that he did without thinking about it?

It finally occurs to Martin that what was happening when he first left the Lonely might be a hint; the sleepwalking. That never happened back in London, not exactly. However… very often, when Martin left the hospital after visiting Jon, or took a break in the evening in the middle of working late, he would walk through the city and let his mind wander.

No, that was putting it mildly. He’d feel a growing disconnect from his own feelings and thoughts, and whatever remained gave him a sense of bored contempt, if anything.

He blended into the crowds, but still wasn’t “part” of it all. Martin remained separate, even in the shared experience of riding the bus or waiting for a light to change.

Occasionally he would pop into a store and use the self check-out lane, or even a bar with no intention to mingle or drink, and he would go unnoticed.

All around him, he would see people talking to each other, or chatting on calls, crying over break-ups, getting into arguments, lying about what they were doing, waiting to meet somebody who wasn’t coming, staring at displays in stores of things they longed to buy but couldn’t afford, getting frustrated after searching for a job all day, trying to be funny for friends or deal with a stressful visit with family… Martin could nearly picture himself, as if looking on from another point of view, and he was nothing but a nameless face on the street.

Obscure and forgettable. Martin would walk on, automatically, no effort in reaching his destination. It was eventual and certain. He may as well be a memory, instead of somebody who was still there.

Then he would be back at the Institute, or at home, and his thoughts would click back into place. Maybe he’d take a shower, or have something to eat. If it wasn’t too late and he was done with research or paperwork, he’d watch something on TV. It was alright. Mostly.

In the current situation, with Martin sitting on the toilet in a bathroom of a safehouse in Scotland, trying to figure out why he’s losing his teeth… he thinks that he’s finally connected some dots, and sees the bigger picture.

“Yeah… well, um- I guess maybe when I would walk around London and sort of lose myself in groups of people, without interacting with anybody, that was possibly like feeding on loneliness. So. Maybe I just need to do THAT again,” Martin looks up at Jon again, now the one checking to see if what he’s saying makes any sense.

“Hmm… it might work when you go out to buy us supplies. You’ll be around people again, and- whatever lonely feelings they have,” Jon nods, though he doesn’t look happy about it. That’s fine. Martin isn’t happy, either.

“What if I… Jon, when you got REALLY bad, you compelled people to talk about things when they didn’t want to. What if I VANISH somebody? What if I can’t control this?” Martin asks, and as soon as he closes his mouth, he has to spit three more teeth into his hand.

“That is upsetting, I know…” Jon replies, reaching out one hand to place on Martin’s shoulder. “But, listen- a few days after I started to really try and rein myself in, one of the people I compelled actually showed up at the Institute again. I was… well, I- erm…”

“You were outside, sneaking a smoke,” Martin guesses.

“Yes, FINE. Anyway, I thought they were still having problems because of me, and I immediately apologized and assured them it wouldn't happen again. I was honestly sort of distressed about that, I didn’t want to go find everybody I had compelled, because seeing me might just make them even MORE afraid, but I still wanted to say I was sorry… well, this person told me they only came there to explain they weren't angry with me. They didn't forgive me exactly, but-,”

“What, they wanted to rescind what they said before? Like, withdraw the complaint?” Martin raises his eyebrows at this.

“Something like that. They told me… they weren’t having nightmares anymore, about me OR what I made them talk about. It had faded after a while. They also told me that it sort of helped, in a weird way, to finally confront something they’d been ignoring for so long. And now they knew, the world had scary things in it, that was REAL, and they weren’t crazy for wanting to be careful…” Jon sees Martin wants to jump into the conversation, but has to pause to catch another tooth that has escaped. Jon continues talking, knowing what Martin was going to ask.

“The reason I didn’t say anything at the time- I didn’t want it to seem like I was making excuses. Oh, this person says the nightmares stopped and they faced their fears, this means nobody should be mad at me anymore! Hell, no. I still forced people to share private thoughts and experiences against their will, and that wasn’t right. I’m only telling you this NOW because I’m hoping that you being around people in public, absorbing whatever you need, THAT will be more like when I read the statements. The fear and the hurt already happened. You aren’t making it worse. If you keep ignoring this hunger, then… it will most likely get more intense, but even if that happens, you still might not vanish somebody to death. People even escaped from what Peter did, occasionally. I just don’t want you to feel… hopeless,”

“OK… yeah, OK. This is still pretty fucked, though,” Martin says, trying to steady his breathing.

“Yes. And it will probably continue to be fucked. But we can try to help each other feel better,” Jon smiles down at Martin, and somehow, that makes a tense knot in his chest loosen.

Jon waits with Martin as the last few teeth come loose, and gets a small glass jar for them. After some “Should I leave them under my pillow?” jokes, Jon grabs the small torch again to see what the situation is with Martin’s new set of teeth…

“You really don’t feel them growing in?”

“Uh-uh,” Martin may not physically feel the teeth coming into place, but he has noticed that the ache in his jaw is gone, and the weird grinding has stopped (that was probably his weird new “spooky” bones making room for his weird new “spooky” teeth. This sounded like such a stupid problem when he thought of it that way, but there just wasn’t a better term unfortunately).

“Well, they’re almost all here, and- they’re sharp! Martin, your new teeth are POINTY!” Jon uses his hand not holding the torch to tilt Martin’s head back slightly.

“WHA? LIE A HA-HIRE?” What? Like a vampire?

“No, not like that… you don’t have fangs, exactly… oh lord, I can see them rising up!” Jon says, and now Martin is starting to get annoyed that he sounds EXCITED about this. “They’re wider, and sort of flat… Martin, I think these are like- like shark teeth!”

Jon has set the torch aside, and is now holding Martin’s head with both his hands, leaning him back even more so the light from the ceiling shines into Martin’s mouth. Jon is pushing aside Martin’s upper lip to see the teeth as they move through the gum better, and that is IT, Martin is DONE.

“GEH YER FEE-HERS OW UH I OW!” before Jon can translate that into “Get your fingers out of my mouth!”, Martin actually SNARLS as a final warning, Jon whips his hands away, and just to be dramatic, Martin CHOMPS his mouth shut.

His new teeth are officially finished growing in; all the severe ridges fit together. Sharp, solid, and strong.

Shark teeth... really? Was that just the Lukas Brand? Martin has to turn half-way into a SEA MONSTER? For the aesthetic?

Jon knows Martin wasn’t actually going to bite him… and Martin knows that Jon knows this. Which is why Jon still looks more fascinated than afraid of Martin’s new MONSTER TEETH, and that just makes Martin want to try and snap at him again. Jon can see that as well, and he starts to snort laughter. Martin wishes he was strong enough to stay furious, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a smile.

Yep. All his human adult teeth fell out, he’s got weird spooky shark teeth now, he’s damn near close to laughing about it. He must be mad. Oh, well. So is Jon.

#tma #the magnus archives #jmart #jonmartin

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princessanneftw · 6 months

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The Princess Royal interview: ‘I’m not sure that rewilding at scale is necessarily a good idea’

With conservation close to her heart, HRH explains what’s needed to save animals under threat and how the monarchy plays its part

By Jessamy Calkin for The Telegraph

Inside St James’s Palace there is a bit of a flutter about the weather. Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal has several engagements today, and things are not looking good; due to wind, the helicopter might not be able to land at the designated sites, which will make travelling times to and from events longer.

The staff are waiting to be informed by the police, who are in touch with the helicopter pilot. HRH, as everyone seems to call her, has not yet been told.

She has a lot to fit in: directly after our interview, she is off to a meeting about Gordonstoun school, in London, by car, then by helicopter to give a speech at an English Rural Housing Association conference in Bedfordshire, followed by a visit to the Aircraft Research Association, where she will unveil a plaque, then back to St James’s Palace to change for evensong at The King’s Chapel of the Savoy, where she will be reading the lesson for the Royal Victorian Order.

Her day will finish at about nine, when she will be able to eat. Quite often she has a dinner engagement as well. Next week she is going to Mumbai for four days.

Not for nothing is she known as the hardest-working royal. She is involved with more than 300 charities, organisations and military regiments, and last year carried out 200-plus engagements – more than any other member of the Royal family.

Her first official engagement was at the age of 18; shortly afterwards, in 1970, she became president of Save the Children – a position that led to her being nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize – and her work with that charity continues to this day.

Early on, her father, the Duke of Edinburgh, advised her to pick the charities she was interested in – and her interests have multiplied.

But one charity that is particularly close to her heart is the Whitley Fund for Nature, which is why I’m here. Started by Edward Whitley OBE as the Whitley Awards, WFN is now celebrating its 30th anniversary, and the Princess has been a patron for 24 years.

The annual ceremony takes place at the Royal Geographical Society in London and is colloquially known as the Green Oscars; WFN distributes grants totalling around £500,000 to worthy international winners.

So far, £20 million has been awarded to 200 conservationists across 80 countries. And the Princess has never missed a single ceremony, presenting the awards and delivering heartfelt speeches.

HRH is quite probably the most respected member of the Royal family. Her lack of pomp and ceremony and the low-key dedication with which she carries out her duties is much admired. There is no whingeing. She refused titles for her children, Peter and Zara.

She is well known for her dry sense of humour. She is an exceptionally accomplished horsewoman and in 1976 became the first member of the Royal family to compete in the Olympics; she had won Sports Personality of the Year five years earlier. She famously resisted an attempted kidnap in 1974.

She has also become an inadvertent style icon, often rewearing outfits she first wore decades ago, which is both charmingly thrifty and impressive in that she can still fit into them, and she seldom buys anything that is not made in the UK.

She recently made a good-natured appearance on her son-in-law Mike Tindall’s podcast The Good, the Bad & the Rugby and she seems like an all-round good egg.

She has both gravitas and spirit – there was some very moving footage of her accompanying her mother’s coffin on the long journey from Balmoral to Westminster Abbey.

Back in St James’s Palace, Charles, her private secretary, is arranging the chairs, anticipating where she might like to sit. HRH arrives in a striking bright-green suit over a striped silky shirt and heads smartly for a different chair than the one offered.

How did she first get involved with Whitley? ‘That’s entirely Edward’s fault,’ she says in her crisp voice. ‘But the common denominator is Gerald Durrell.’

The Princess grew up reading Durrell’s books and became patron of his zoo in Jersey, part of what is now the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, in 1972. ‘He very kindly asked me to become involved in the zoo – as it was then – in Jersey, and Edward [later became] one of Durrell’s trustees.

‘He and I had similar beliefs in what Gerald was doing. Apart from the fact that Gerald wrote very good books, during his travels he seemed to understand better than most the impact on the populations in which animals lived and the relationship between them and their animals.

‘Being told you have to save this, that and the other is all very well but have you been there? Have you ever tried living in that environment to find out what that means to them? Because the fundamental point is that unless the conservation comes from the local area, it won’t be sustained.’

No one is going to save an animal just because they’re told to. ‘You’ve got to work out how the animals are going to survive with the people who live there, who will be the ones who make sure that it works.’

What was Durrell like? ‘Every bit as entertaining as you would think. His humour but also his understanding of the relative importance of things in other people’s lives was absolutely fascinating – and he was spot on.’

Durrell said he felt ‘sympathy for the small and ugly; since I’m big and ugly I try to preserve the little ones’. He was an expert on captive breeding, with a view to releasing into the wild, and he tended to select animals that were close to extinction, or those that could best be helped, or just ones that were not very charismatic.

‘Yes, not the sexy ones,’ says the Princess. ‘Or the obvious ones. His approach was very holistic. He understood the impact of habitat – not just on one species but how all of the things that lived in that habitat related to each other and that you couldn’t replicate that instantly somewhere else – it was very specific to an area.’

Gerald Durrell died in January 1995, of septicaemia. He was an alcoholic and had successfully received a liver transplant but died of complications it gave rise to. ‘He told me that there was no point doing a transplant because his old liver had got used to being fed all the things he’d been given to eat and drink in order to make deals as he went round the world,’ the Princess says, smiling.

Durrell’s legacy is long. One of his innovations was to establish training for conservationists from around the world. The first trainee went on to become the first director of the National Parks and Conservation Service in Mauritius, and thousands of students from 151 countries have since attended the centre, whose graduates became known as Gerald Durrell’s Army.

This became the title of a book by Edward Whitley, who travelled round the world to assess the progress of some of the trainees and the animals they were conserving – such as the largest eagle in the world in the Philippines and Alaotran gentle lemurs in Madagascar.

To launch the book in 1992, Whitley was invited to give a talk at the Royal Geographical Society, and he asked the Princess to come along. It was at the book launch that he decided to set up the charity.

‘I sat down with Nigel Winser, who was the deputy director of the RGS and a long-time friend, and we designed what became the Whitley Awards on the back of a napkin,’ he tells me. In 1999, Whitley asked the Princess to become a patron. By then, ‘Attenborough was already on board, which encouraged her to think it wasn’t a fly-by-night organisation which would crash and burn’.

The awards focus on community-based conservation projects around the world. In order to qualify, each project has to be up and running – it cannot be a pipe dream. Initially there was only one award; this year there were six – of £40,000 each in project funding – plus a Gold Award of £100,000, given each year to a past winner in recognition of their outstanding contribution to conservation.

‘The reason WFN is so effective,’ says Alastair Fothergill, whose company Silverback made the acclaimed TV nature series Wild Isles, and who like Attenborough is a WFN ambassador, ‘is because its grants are awarded at the very cutting edge of conservation, where relatively modest funds can go a long way. Over the years, the fund has kickstarted the careers of many pioneers who have become leading lights in conservation.’

This year’s projects included safeguarding seabird nesting sites in Mexico; establishing ‘lion guards’ promoting coexistence in Cameroon; and protecting pangolins in Nepal, lemurs in Madagascar, freshwater fish in Lake Victoria and saiga antelope in west Kazakhstan. Each one heavily involves local communities.

In addition, WFN provides continuation funding for award-winners. To mark the 25th anniversary of Whitley, Kate Humble, also an ambassador, and Attenborough hosted an event at the Natural History Museum to help raise £1 million for continuation funding.

‘It was the first really big fundraiser we had,’ says Humble. ‘And one of the donors underwrote the entire cost of the event – so everything raised went into the continuation fund.’

The RGS ceremonies are joyous events. In addition to being presented with their award by the Princess Royal, each winner has a short film made of their work, narrated by Attenborough, screened at the event. ‘I’ve been going for 20 years,’ says Humble, ‘and every year I’m blown away by the winners – what they’ve overcome, what they’ve achieved.

‘You hear so much bad news, and you think, you know what? The world can be OK because people out there are doing this stuff – it’s demonstrable, it’s scientifically rigorous and it’s working. [It’s] an incredibly uplifting and inspiring evening.

‘And every year I watch Princess Anne speak and she never sounds like she’s reading someone else’s words. She cares deeply about what this charity does and what these people who win the awards have achieved – she is not a figurehead just trotting out nice words and providing a photo op. She could run the charity, she knows it so well and cares about it so deeply.

‘I’m not anti-royal,’ says Humble, ‘but neither am I someone who would go and wave a Union Jack. But when I see her I think, frankly you’re worth whatever it is we pay.’

HRH talks with fluency and knowledge on every subject. ‘She’s like a sponge – it’s unbelievable the information that’s stored in her brain,’ said her daughter Zara in an interview for ITV’s Anne: The Princess Royal at 70. ‘It’s quite annoying as well.’

She needs to know a lot because she works with a diverse range of charities, taking in early years, healthcare, microfinance and animal welfare. Promoting collaboration between charities is key. ‘I do a lot of that,’ she says now. ‘I have meetings bringing them together which they all seem to enjoy, though sometimes it’s a bit illogical.

‘Knitting together all the international NGOs is important, but we need to look slightly outside the box – can we do this better, are there ways of helping people to be more sustainable?’

The Princess does occasionally discuss conservation with the King, she says, but she won’t say if they always agree. And her grandchildren? How does she teach them about conservation? (She has five, four girls and a boy.)

‘I don’t see so much of them but making the point that they live in an area which they shouldn’t take for granted is important I think; both my children are aware of that.’

Gatcombe Park in Gloucestershire, where the Princess and her husband, Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence, live in an 18th-century manor with 730 acres of parkland, has some beautiful trees – ‘the ones that survive – quite a lot don’t, we live on Cotswold brash which is not popular with plants; but having said that we have beeches.

‘You’ve just got to live with what’s there and make sure it doesn’t get overwhelmed. I’m not sure that rewilding at scale is necessarily a good idea – it probably is in corners, but if you’re not careful you rewild all the wrong things because they are just the things that are more successful at growing.

‘My biggest row at home is ragwort. Lots of people think that ragwort is absolutely brilliant because butterflies love it, but it’s not good for the horses [it is toxic]. I would say don’t take all the ragwort out, just where the horses are – but it’s quite a delicate balance.’

There are, she says, ‘quite a lot of horses at home, but they’re other people’s as well’. She rides whenever she can. ‘It’s a very good place to observe nature from.’

The Princess supports several horse-related charities, and became patron of Riding for the Disabled in 1971, and president in 1985. ‘It was just becoming a national body when I was invited to become a patron – at that stage I knew nothing about disability but the concept that ponies or horses could make a difference was obviously interesting and I knew about them. No matter what the disability was, the answer was, if they’d like to ride, we’ll give it a go. The commonality of the experience was important.’

Essential things for running a charity, she says, are evaluation and thinking of the long term. She cites the influence of Eglantyne Jebb, founder of Save the Children, ‘who constantly evaluated programmes to see if they were making a difference, whether they were doing the right things and whether people were invested’.

And it’s important to keep projects focused and manageable. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that scale is the thing that defeats any good idea, because it can get to a size where people can’t cope.’

She has spoken in the past about the huge value of long-term commitment, in terms of the constitutional monarchy as well as in charity work. ‘Seeing things in the long term is a challenge,’ she says now, ‘but maybe part of our [value] – as a family – is long-term continuity, because the long-term view is quite hard to come by. And I think we can do that.’

May I ask what she might have done as a profession in another life? HRH laughs and looks vaguely impatient. ‘You can ask but I’ve no idea.’ Does she ever think about that?

‘Not really, and it’s way too late to have those concerns – in a way the fortunate part of my life has been the broad spectrum, to see so much. Not having a very specific interest has been a bonus, I suppose. We all have ways of doing things and with Whitley it is the practical aspects of what they do, and how to support them [that has been my focus].’

Edward Whitley, a member of the wealthy Greenall Whitley brewing family, set up Whitley Asset Management in 2002, alongside its finance director Louise Rettie, to serve a small number of clients. But there had always been animals in his life – his great-grandfather founded a small charity called the Whitley Animal Protection Trust; his great-great-uncle Herbert was an eccentric animal breeder who started Paignton Zoo.

In Edward’s office is a stuffed cockatoo that belonged to Herbert and a photograph of Mary, his favourite chimpanzee. Mary was famous for riding around on her tricycle and walking the dogs, or taking visitors by the hand and leading them round the zoo.

Edward studied English at Oxford then went into banking, joining NM Rothschild & Sons in 1983. He left in 1990 to write: Gerald Durrell’s Army came out in 1992 and he also co-wrote Rogue Trader, the autobiography of disgraced banker Nick Leeson, and worked with Richard Branson on his memoir.

Whitley is a tall, gentle man who doesn’t like talking about himself but is full of unbridled enthusiasm for WFN, and in particular its royal patron. ‘She transformed the charity – we never would have had the success we’ve had without her involvement. She saw what was possible and really helped us to achieve it, and she inspires the winners to do more. The winners are always pretty amazed at how she cross-examines them and cuts to the chase so quickly when she meets them.

‘She has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the world, and a phenomenal memory, and she is also very funny… And think of her father and the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award – she’s seen what a lifetime of work can achieve.’

In her speech at the Whitley Awards earlier this year, the Princess Royal cited her father, Gerald Durrell and Edward Whitley as the inspirations for her work with WFN. Among winners and their communities, she said, ‘it’s the global ambition to truly make a difference that has been astonishing’.

The awards, she continued, are for ‘the people on the ground, they’re the sharp end… It’s all very well to be here and understand what we think are the challenges, and want to make a difference, but when you meet the people who are actually out front and can turn that into a reality, it’s a real inspiration.’

Over the years, she has visited some of the winners’ projects, when her charity work takes her to those countries, ‘but not as many as I would like’, she says. In Uganda, for example, she met Dr Gladys Kalema-Zikusoka, who was working on improving hygiene in local communities after viruses had spread to gorillas she was managing in Bwindi national park. And in 1997, before she became a WFN patron, she travelled in a boat up the Amazon to see pink dolphins.

‘She was in Colombia for Save the Children and she asked the British embassy to include a visit to the Amazon in her trip – she was very interested in the dolphins,’ says Dr Fernando Trujillo, who went on to win an award in 2007.

‘The British embassy contacted me as an expert on rivers and dolphins. I was a little bit intimidated, and it was raining and I was worried we wouldn’t see any dolphins, but in the end we counted 32 – and she was so excited, every time she saw one she would jump up and down with excitement, and then rein herself in as if she suddenly remembered she was a princess. I could see her love for the environment was very genuine. From that day she was my favourite royal person.’

Another winner, Pablo Bordino, whose picture with HRH had been in the paper in Buenos Aires was flying back to Argentina. One of the flight attendants recognised him and when he arrived at the airport there was a television crew waiting to meet him. It raised the profile of his NGO - which protected marine life and habitats in Argentina - enormously and enabled him to generate further funding. ‘That’s the effect HRH has,’ says Whitley. ‘You can’t quantify it.’

Several award-winners went to the Princess’s 60th-birthday celebrations, including Claudio Padua, a successful businessman from Rio who gave it all up to pursue conservation, training at Durrell in Jersey and moving to a forest in Brazil with his wife, Suzana, and three children.

HRH had been to see them at their headquarters outside São Paulo and had taken an interest in their efforts to conserve the black lion tamarin, a monkey. They had no idea her visit would be such an ordeal, with all the security arrangements. ‘We had a call to ask what kind of security we had,’ says Claudio. ‘I said, “I have an old dog, that’s all.”’

‘She turned up with a security detail and entourage,’ Suzana adds. ‘They wanted to go into the forest to see the monkeys in our Land Rover and her security team asked, “Has this car been checked?” I said it hadn’t and they became very nervous but she ignored them and just got in anyway.’

Years later, the Paduas were invited to Buckingham Palace for her 60th. ‘It was a beautiful opportunity for us,’ says Suzana, ‘and as she came down the stairs she spotted us and said, “Oh how nice to see you. How are the monkeys?”’

The Whitley Fund for Nature is hosting a #PeopleforPlanet biodiversity summit on 6 and 7 November at London’s Royal Institution, where members of the public can hear live from Whitley Gold Award-winning conservationists from Africa, Central and South America, and Asia

#a new anneterview!#I love that she seems to remember everything and everyone #the part about her jumping up and down when she saw the dolphins #what a mood #princess anne #princess royal #british royal family #brf #newspapers #anned i quote

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the-elvenprince · 4 months

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Orlando Bloom attended the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London. It was there, in 1998, that he fell three stories from a rooftop terrace and broke his back. Despite fears that he would be permanently paralyzed, he quickly recovered and returned to the stage.

As fate would have it, seated in the audience one night in 1999 was a director named Peter Jackson. After the show, he met with Orlando and asked him to audition for his new set of movies. Two days before graduating from Guildhall, Orlando was cast in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, spending 18 months in New Zealand bringing to life the character of Legolas, a part which made him a household name.

"Legolas doesn't speak a lot - he prefers to let his actions speak for him. Legolas' moves are smooth and elegant, like a cat. You know how cats can jump and land steadily on their paws? That's what I'm trying to do. There's a strength in that, but it's very balletic. It's also bloody hard to do without falling over!"

Bloom made archery a very popular sport in the United Kingdom. Many youngsters saw him with a bow in the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy and decided to join archery schools. Bloom spent two months learning how to fire a bow. However, Legolas' arrows in the final battle in "Fellowship of the Ring" (2001) are computer generated. It would have been physically impossible for even the most gifted archer to fire off so many arrows so quickly.

"(Viggo Mortensen) used to call me 'elf boy,' and I'd call him 'filthy human.' As an elf, I never got a scratch on me, never got dirty. And Vig would come out with blood and sweat all over him. And he'd say to me, 'Oh, go manicure your nails.'"

"We have these digs at each other. Viggo will go on about elves and how they're always doing their nails and brushing their long, blonde hair, and being all prissy. And I just say,'Well, at least I'm going to live forever! Got that? LIVE FOREVER!'" (IMDb)

Happy Birthday Landy 🥳

#orlando bloom #happy birthday #legolas greenleaf #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr #elvenprince #prince legolas #prince of mirkwood #the hobbit #elves #tolkien

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wondereads · 1 year

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An Extended List of Retellings

It was recently Tell a Fairy Tale Day (02/26), so here's an updated and expanded list of retellings for all fairy tale- and folklore-obsessed readers!

*Key at the end of the post*

The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert (Fairy Tale-esque)

Alice's grandmother is known for her collection of stories that has spawned a cult-like following, spawning plenty of fanatics to follow Alice and her mother around. But this new group is strange, weirder than the rest, and when they take Alice's mother, she must literally dive into the world of her grandmother's stories to save her. (YA, low fantasy)

Damsel by Elana K. Arnold (Fairy Tale-esque)

Ama remembers nothing. All she knows is that she was saved by Prince Emory from a vicious dragon. It seems she will be taken care of for the rest of her life as a pampered princess, but as she learns more about her new home, the more darkness seems to well up around the edges. *read trigger warnings* (NA, high fantasy)

The Frog Princess by E. D. Baker (The Frog Prince)

Princess Emeralda is about to be caught in an unfortunate engagement, but she finds an escape in a talking frog. A frog who claims he is a prince, a perfect excuse to escape a betrothal. What she doesn't expect is being turned into a frog herself with no clue how to change both of them back. (MG, high fantasy)

The Wide-Awake Princess by E. D. Baker (Sleeping Beauty)

Princess Gwen was tragically cursed to fall into a magical sleep, so when her younger sister, Annie, is born, she is given only one christening gift—the ability to resist any magic. When the curse comes true and Gwen falls asleep, Annie sets out to find her sister's true love and wake the kingdom again. (MG, high fantasy)

Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson (Peter Pan)

From an orphanage in London, Peter and his mysterious friend, Molly, arrive at a faraway island. There, pirates and adventures abound, but nothing is as exciting as a precious new substance that can cure wounds, give flight, and keep people young forever. (MG, low fantasy)

The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor (Alice in Wonderland)

When Wonderland, land of dreams and imagination, undergoes a bloody coup, Princess Alyss Heart is forced to flee to the real world, taking on the name Alice Liddel. Years later, she is needed to win Wonderland back, but is it time for Alyss' imagination to be saved? (YA, low fantasy)

The Sisters Grimm by Michael Buckley (multiple)

Sabrina and Daphne Grimm have bounced from foster home to foster home before their formerly-unknown grandmother takes them in. She seems like everything two children could want, but Sabrina doesn't trust her. Not only does she serve outlandish foods and have an outrageous amount of locks on her house, but she seems to believe their town is full of fairy tale characters, all with mysteries that need solving. (MG, magical realism)

The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainani (multiple)

Agatha and Sophie are best friends, but they couldn't be more different. Agatha is ugly and unpleasant and Sophie is pretty and kind, so when they're taken to the School for Good and Evil, it seems obvious who's Good and who's Evil. However, when the girl's places are switched, they must put things to rights. (MG/YA, high fantasy)

To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo (The Little Mermaid)

Lira is a vicious siren, known for her collection of prince's hearts. However, a serious mistake of hers leads the Sea Queen to transform her into a human, trapped until she can bring her the heart of Prince Elian. Lira is a practiced killer, but Elian is a trained hunter, and sirens are his prey of choice. (YA, high fantasy)

The Land of Stories by Chris Colfer (multiple)

Alex and Conner have had it rough since their father's death, but they find comfort in their grandmother's book of stories. When she leaves it to them on their birthday, they never expected for it to be a portal to another world. This world is full of all the fairy tales they know and love, but they're trapped there, and ways back are hard to come by. (MG, low fantasy)

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn (King Arthur)

In an attempt to move on after her mother's death, Bree attends an early college program. However, she starts to see things, things her friends can't, and she soon discovers a secret society on campus made up of the descendants of King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable. However, this group, the Legendborn, may be tied to Bree more than she knows. (YA, magical realism)

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson (Caribbean and Yoruba Mythology)

In a futuristic world modeled off of Afro-Caribbean history and mythology, criminals are sent to the world of New Half-Way Tree. No child has been sent before until Tan-Tan is taken by her father, who is on the run from the law. When Tan-Tan's experience takes a turn for the worse, she finds strength the figure of the Robber Queen from myth. *read trigger warnings* (adult, science fiction/fantasy)

Splintered by A. G. Howard (Alice in Wonderland)

Alyssa is a descendant of the famous Alice Liddel, but it's not all roses and tea parties. Madness runs in the family, and Alyssa has heard bugs and flowers speak to her since she was young. It's only when she's a teenager that she learns it's a curse, and the only way to free her family from it is to return to Wonderland and put the original Alice's mistakes to rights.

Stain by A. G. Howard (very loosely The Princess and the Pea)

Princess Lyra is destined to bring her kingdom, one of perpetual day, and their rival, a kingdom of perpetual night, together. However, when her wicked aunt steals her identity and casts her out, she loses her memories and is taken in by a witch from an enchanted forest. There, she lives in disguise, known as a young boy named Stain. (YA, fantasy romance)

Enchanted by Alethea Kontis (The Frog Prince)

Sunday is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, a powerfully magic number. Anything Sunday writes comes true, so she takes care to only write what has already happened. She finds someone to share those stories with in a talking frog near her home. Little does she know that the frog is an enchanted prince; specifically, the prince responsible for the death of her older brother.

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (Cinderella)

Ella was given a gift at her birth from a fairy, but it's done nothing but make her life miserable. Forced to obey every direct order, Ella loathes her gift of obedience, especially when she is forced to deal with a demanding father and a horrible stepfamily. Ella takes it upon herself to track down the fairy who 'blessed' her with some help from her family's cook, Mandy, and the charming Prince Char. (MG, high fantasy)

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine (Snow White)

Aza is by no means the fairest of them all, but she has the unique gift to imitate others and throw her voice. In the kingdom of Ayortha, which values song above all else, it's an invaluable trait. One the new queen of Ayortha, Queen Ivi, plans to capitalize upon. Ivi lacks singing talent, so she hires Aza to help her deceive the kingdom, but how long can they keep up the charade? (MG, high fantasy)

The Princess Tales by Gail Carson Levine (multiple)

Six stories: The Fairy's Mistake (Diamonds and Toads), The Princess Test (The Princess and the Pea), Princess Sonora and the Long Sleep (Sleeping Beauty), Cinderellis and the Glass Hill (Cinderella), For Biddle's Sake (Rapunzel), and The Fairy's Return (The Golden Goose) (MG, high fantasy)

Ash by Malinda Lo (Cinderella)

Abused by her horrible stepmother, Ash finds solace in stories. Those stories seem to come to life when she encounters a faerie, and her wishes of being stolen away may finally be granted. However, Ash begins to doubt that course when she meets the king's huntress and she finds herself torn between two worlds. (YA, fantasy romance)

Unhooked by Lisa Maxwell (Peter Pan)

Gwendolyn has always thought her mother was crazy for thinking monsters were chasing them, but then she and her best friend are kidnapped. The place they're taken to, Neverland, is full of deception, and Gwen must find out how to get them both home and whole again. (YA, low fantasy)

Cinder by Marissa Meyer (Cinderella)

Cinder is a cyborg in a futuristic world ravaged by sickness and prejudice, but she scrapes by as a mechanic. One day, during a job for no one other than the prince, she discovers information that could tip the balance between the people of earth and the dreaded Lunars. (YA, science fiction)

The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris (King Arthur)

A series retelling the tales of the Roundtable, beginning with Terence, an orphan who becomes squire to the famous Sir Gawain. Together, they must foil a plot against King Arthur as Terence discovers his own abilities. (MG/YA, historical fantasy)

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (Beauty and the Beast)

Agnieszka is forfeited by her village to the wizard known as the Dragon in exchange for his protection against the horrible Wood. She finds herself more of an apprentice than a servant, but the Wood is stirring, and it's up to her and the Dragon to drive it back. (NA, high fantasy)

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (Rumpelstiltskin)

Miryam has brought her family's moneylending business back from the brink of bankruptcy. All is going well until an ill-timed boast on the roads lures the attention of the king of the Staryk, fae-like creatures made of winter and obsessed with gold. But there's a bigger threat that threatens to consume humans and Staryk alike. (NA, high fantasy)

Queen of Hearts by Colleen Oakes (Alice in Wonderland)

Dinah has trained her whole life to become queen of Wonderland alongside her father, finally earning his love. However, out of the blue, her father brings home her half-sister, his illegitimate daughter. With conspiracies brewing, Dinah must hold onto her throne now that another candidate has entered the picture. (YA, high fantasy)

The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh (Shim Cheong)

As their home is ravaged by storms and floods, the people of Mina's village sacrifice a young girl every year, hoping she may be the "true bride" of the sea god. One year, the offered girl is Shim Cheong, Mina's older brother, Joon's, beloved. In an effort to save her, Mina throws herself into the sea to find a fantastical world under the surface. (YA, historical fantasy)

Dorothy Must Die by Danielle Paige (The Wizard of Oz)

Amy is a friendless teenager from modern-day Kansas, so a surprise trip to the land of Oz would seem like a blessing. But this version of Oz is twisted, dark, and ruled by none other than the other girl from Kansas, Dorothy herself. (YA, low fantasy)

The Shadow Queen by C. J. Redwine (Snow White)

Lorelai is the crown princess, but she's also a fugitive. Ever since her kingdom was taken by a wicked queen, she and her brother have been forced to run for their lives. She and the queen share one quality, magic, but if Lorelai ever uses it, she'll be guiding the queen straight to her. (YA, high fantasy)

The Blood Spell by C. J. Redwine (Cinderella)

Blue is an aspiring alchemist, hoping to turn other metals into gold to help the people of her city. However, when her father tragically dies and a cruel woman seizes everything Blue knows, she has to turn to her childhood rival, Prince Kellan. Kellan has his own issues, such as a growing pressure to marry, but the worst is the disappearances that seem to rise in number every day. (YA, high fantasy)

Half Upon a Time by James Riley (multiple)

Jack the 13th is supposed to be a hero, save a princess. He thinks that isn't likely to happen until a 'princess' from our world literally falls into his arms. Soon, Jack realizes that this girl's grandmother can be none other than the famous Snow White, but she's been kidnapped, and it's up to Jack and the 'princess', Meg, to save her. (MG, low fantasy)

The Evil Queen by Gena Showalter (Snow White)

Everly lives the life of a normal teenager until she discovers she's not of this world. In this other land of magic, she's a part of a prophecy, one that mirrors the classic tale of Snow White. That would all be great if she weren't destined to become the story's villain, the Evil Queen. (YA, low fantasy)

Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan (Chang'e)

Xingyin's mother, Chang'e has been imprisoned on the moon for years for stealing the Celestial Emperor's elixir of immortality. When Xingyin's magic flares and she is in danger of being discovered, she must flee the moon. She ends up in the Celestial Kingdom, where she works her way up, hoping to find a way to free her mother. (NA, high fantasy)

Breadcrumbs by Anne Ursu (The Snow Queen)

The Snow Queen made a mirror meant to show people the worst in the world, and when it shatters, a shard gets stuck in the eye of Hazel's best friend Jack. When the Snow Queen whisks him away, Hazel must travel through a treacherous, wintery forest to save him. (MG, low fantasy)

Malice by Heather Walter (Sleeping Beauty)

Alyce is the infamous Dark Grace, whose powers bring curses and misfortune, unlike her sisters, who can conjure gifts and beauty. She dreams of escaping the prejudiced Kingdom of Briar, but her growing powers and an involvement with the royal family could keep her trapped forever. (adult, fantasy romance)

KEY

MG: middle grade, ages 8-12

YA: young adult, ages 13-18

NA: new adult, ages 18-early twenties

adult: ages 18 and up

high fantasy: fantasy stories set entirely within another world

low fantasy: fantasy stories split between our world and another

magical realism: fantasy stories set in our world, often interwoven with aspects of modern life (not the Latin American literary movement!)

historical fantasy: fantasy stories set in a historical setting of our world

fantasy romance: fantasy stories focused on romantic plotlines instead of other forms of plot

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yen-sids-tournament · 1 month

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Animated 9: Cinderella III: A Twist In Time v Return To Never Land

Cinderella III {original-Cinderella (1950)}

It is in the words of Seamus Gorman 'A Masterpiece'. In his series reviewing the Disney Sequels it was considered the benchmark to measure all other Disney Sequels by. I don't remember which sequel got the damning 'It was good but it was no Cinderella III: A Twist in Time.' This movie has it all: time travel, characters with 3d personalities, that one iconic meme where the king says 'I forbid you to take another step' and the prince jumps out the window. Its so silly, its so fun, it is a masterpiece. Link to the Seamus Review:

~Anastasia redemption arc and character development ~The cat, lucifer, gets more screen time ~The king has a backstory

Time travel, and the prince. "But the talking mice say she's the wrong girl" " I forbid you to take another step down these stairs!" "Ok!*jumps out the window*"

Return to Never Land {originial-Peter Pan (1953)} *spoilers?*

It follows Wendy's canonical daughter Jane, in every version of the story where Peter returns to the Darling's window, he meets Jane, and this story gives her her own adventure. with Wendy as a turn of the century child, it isn't too much of a stretch to assume Jane would be growing up in the middle of a deeply contentious time in British History, that being the London bombings of World War 2, and Unlike Wendy, whom needed to understand that she didn't WANT to never grow up and embrace her coming maturity as it arrives, Jane had been thrown into a position in her family where she had needed to grow up too fast, and in her trip to Neverland understand the importance of that child-like wonder she had nearly lost.As such, she starts out deeply skeptical and frustrated by the nonsensical nature of Neverland, and being more trusting of adults than of children whose attempts of 'playing with her' were little more than bullying with the thin veneer of 'just a game', which ultimately allows her to be manipulated by Hook. But even then manages to grow attached to the lost boys and connect with Peter and due to her inability to fly for most of the movie had almost fully integrated into the world of Neverland and became the first Lost Girl by the time of the third act.While it's held back by the painfully early 00's music it's ultimately a very compelling story about a child in a deeply traumatizing situation finding temporary haven in a place untouched by the war that had so deeply distorted her worldview and ultimately reclaiming her right to have a childhood after constant danger of death and destruction had nearly wrenched it from her entirely.(also there's no racist Native American stereotypes that exist just for the sake of themselves and could have easily been some sort of fantasy species but nahhh it was the 50s so native americans were SUPER okay to be racist about/s)

#disney #yen sids poll #round 2 #sequelmovies #cinderella iii #a twist in time #cinderella #prince charming #anastasia tremaine #lady tremaine #return to neverland #peter pan #wendy darling #jane #lost boys #tinkerbell #disney tournament

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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months

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To save the news, ban surveillance ads

Tonight (May 31) at 6:30PM, I’m at the MANCHESTER Waterstones with my novel Red Team Blues, hosted by Ian Forrester.

Tomorrow (Jun 1), I’m giving the Peter Kirstein Lecture for UCL Computer Science in LONDON.

Then it’s Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!

Big Tech steals from the news, but what it steals isn’t content — it steals money. That matters, because if we create pseudo-copyrights over the facts of the news, or headlines, or snippets to help news companies bargain with tech companies, we make the news partners with the tech companies, rather than watchdogs.

How does tech steal money from the news? Lots of ways! One important one: tech steals ad revenue. 51% of every ad dollar gets gobbled up by tech companies — primarily the cozy, collusive ad-tech duopoly of Google/Facebook (AKA Googbook). If we can shatter the market power of the concentrated ad-tech industry, news companies would go back to getting 80–90% of the ad revenue their reporting generated, which would pay for more reporting.

There’s lots to like about fixing ads. For one thing, a fair ad marketplace would benefit all news reporting, not just the largest news companies — which are dominated by private equity-backed chains and right-wing billionaires who have repeatedly shown that any additional revenues will go to pay shareholders, not more reporters. Fair ads would also provide an income for reporters who strike out on their own, covering local politics or specific beats, without making themselves sharecroppers for Big Media.

One way to fix ads would be to break up the ad-tech “stacks.” Googbook both operate impossibly conflicted ad-placement businesses in which they bargain with themselves on behalf of both advertisers and publishers, with the winners always being the tech companies. The AMERICA Act from Senator Mike Lee would force ad giants to divest themselves of business units that create conflicts of interest. It’s popular, bipartisan legislation — and I do mean bipartisan; its backers include Elizabeth Warren and Ted Cruz! I wrote about the AMERICA Act and the role it will play in saving news from tech for EFF’s Deeplinks Blog last week:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

This week, I’ve got a followup on Deeplinks about another important way to unrig the ad market: banning surveillance ads:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

Even if we break up the ad-tech stacks, ads will still be bad for the news — and for the public. That’s because the dominant form of digital ads is “behavioral advertising” — the ad-tech sector’s polite euphemism for ads based on spying. You know these ads: you search for shoes and then every website you land on is plastered in shoe ads.

Surveillance ads require a massive, multi-billion-dollar surveillance dragnet, one that tracks you as you physically move through the world, and digitally, as you move through the web. Your apps, your phone and your browser are constantly gathering data on your activities to feed the ad-tech industry.

This data is incredibly dangerous. There’s so much of it, and it’s so loosely regulated, that every spy, cop, griefer, stalker, harasser, and identity thief can get it for pennies and use it however they see fit. The ad-tech industry poses a risk to protesters, to people seeking reproductive care, to union organizers, and to vulnerable people targeted by scammers.

Ad-tech maintains the laughable pretense that all this spying is consensual, because you clicked “I agree” on some garbage-novella of impenatrable legalese that no one — not even the ad-tech companies’ lawyers — has ever read from start to finish. But when people are given a real choice to opt out of digital spying, they do. Apple gave Ios users a one-click opt-out of in-app tracking and 96% of users clicked it (the other 4% must have been confused — or on Facebook’s payroll). The decision cost Facebook $10b in the first year. You love to see it:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/02/02/facebook-says-apple-ios-privacy-change-will-cost-10-billion-this-year.html

But here’s the real punchline: Apple blocked Facebook from spying on its customers, but Apple kept spying on them, just as invasively as Facebook had, in order to target them with Apple’s own ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The thing that stops companies from spying on us isn’t the strength of their character, it’s the discipline imposed by regulation and competition — the fear that they’ll get fined more than they make from spying, and the fear that they’ll lose so much business from spying that they’ll end up in the red.

Which is why we need a legal ban on ads, not mere platitudes on billboards advertising companies’ “respect” for our privacy. The US is way overdue for a federal privacy law with a private right of action, which would let you and me sue the companies who violated it, even if no public prosecutor was willing to go to bat for us:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

A privacy law that required companies to get your affirmative, enthusiastic, ongoing, specific, informed consent to gather and process your personal data would end surveillance ads forever. Despite the self-serving nonsense the ad-tech industry serves up about people “liking relevant ads,” no one wants to be spied on. 96% of Ios users don’t lie.

A ban on surveillance ads wouldn’t just serve the public, it would also save the news. The alternative to surveillance ads is context ads: ads based on what a reader is reading, rather than what that reader was doing. Context-based ad marketplaces ask, “What am I bid for this Pixel 6 user in Boise who is reading about banana farming?” instead of “What am I bid for this 22 year old man who recently searched for information about suicidal ideation and bankruptcy protection?”

Context ads perform a little worse than surveillance ads — by about 5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/29/taken-in-context/#creep-me-not

So presumably advertisers won’t pay as much for context ads as they do for behavioral targeting. But that doesn’t mean that the news will lose money. Because context ads favor publishers over ad-tech platforms — no publisher will ever know as much about internet users as spying ad-tech giants do, but no tech company will ever know as much about a publisher’s content as the publisher does.

Behavioral ad marketplaces have high barriers to entry, requiring troves of surveillance data on billions of internet users. They are naturally anticompetitive and able to command a much higher share of each ad dollar than a contextual ad service (which would have much more competiition) could.

On top of that: if behavioral advertising was limited to people who truly consented to it, 96% of users would never see an ad!

So contextual ads will show up for more users, and more of the money they generate will land in news publishers’ pockets. If context ads fetch less money per ad, the losses will be felt by ad-tech companies, not publishers.

Finally: publishers who join the fight against surveillance ads won’t be alone — they’ll be joining with a massive, popular movement against commercial surveillance. The news business is — and always has been — a niche subject, of burning interest to publishers, reporters, and a small minority of news junkies. The news on its own is a small fry in policy debates. But when it comes to killing surveillance ads, the news has a class alliance with the mass movement for privacy, and together, they’re a force to reckon with.

My article on killing surveillance ads is part three of an ongoing, five-part series for EFF on how we save the news from tech. The introduction, which sets out the whole series, is here:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

The final two parts will come out over the next two weeks, and then we’re going to publish the whole thing as a PDF that suitable for sharing. Watch this space!

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Manchester, Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: EFF's banner for the save news series; the word 'NEWS' appears in pixelated, gothic script in the style of a newspaper masthead. Beneath it in four entwined circles are logos for breaking up ad-tech, ending surveillance ads, opening app stores, and end-to-end delivery. All the icons except for 'ending surveillance ads' are greyed out.]

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/31/context-ads/#class-formation

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

CC BY 3.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #class formation #ad-tech #context ads #news #gdpr #big tech #eff #monopoly #how to save the news #link taxes

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without-armor-or-not-at-all · 8 days

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ttpd songs as fictional characters

Fortnight: Adam and Juliette (Shatter Me)

The Tortured Poets Department: Remus Lupin (Harry Potter, All the Young Dudes)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: The Darkling (Grishaverse)

Down Bad: Kenji and Nazeera (Shatter Me)

So Long, London: Marauders after the war (All The Young Dudes)

But Daddy I Love Him: Sophie and Keefe (KOTLC)

Fresh Out The Slammer: Nina and Matthias (SoC)

Florida!!!: Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games)

Guilty as Sin?: insert your fav "she fell first, he fell harder" here

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Juilette Ferrars (Shatter Me)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): Inej and Kaz (Six of Crows)

loml: Jo and Laurie (Little Women)

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: Finnick Odair (Hunger Games)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: literally every woman in the grishaverse to the darkling

The Alchemy: David and Genya (Grishverse)

Clara Bow: Addie LaRue (The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue)

The Black Dog: Sirius Black (Harry Potter, All The Young Dudes)

imgonnagetyouback: James and Lily (All the Young Dudes, Harry Potter)

The Albatross: Zoya (Grishaverse)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: Young Donna (Mamma Mia 2)

How Did It End?: Mia and Sebastian (La La Land)

So High School: Kate and Patrick (10 Things I Hate About You)

I Hate It Here: Belly Conklin (TSITP) Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter)

thanK you aIMee: Sophie Foster (KOTLC)

I Look In People's Windows: Lily and Snape (Harry Potter, All The Young Dudes)

The Prophecy: Rachel Dare (PJO)

Cassandra: Baghra (Shadow and Bone)

Peter: Jo and Laurie (Little Women)

The Bolter: Amy March (Little Women)

Robin: Biana Vacker (KOTLC)

The Manuscript: Mary MacDonald (All the Young Dudes)

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voidpants · 9 months

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so @dpshemma made this post and i, uh, had some emotions about it

Peter gingerly crawls through his office window half an hour or so before dawn, trying not to jostle the ribs he hopes are just bruised, or pull at the (thankfully) shallow knife wound across his flank.

Of course, he fails at both, because apparently it's just that kind of morning, and he ends up sitting on the floor just below the window sill, trying to remember all the reasons sleeping on the floor in clothes that currently are more rainwater than fabric would be a bad idea.

He wants to sigh, but he's not even allowed to pity himself properly, ribs twinging in warning at even the shallowest of breaths, and he's forced to admit that the broken ribs theory seems increasingly plausible.

After an eternity (or five minutes, he's not sure), he carefully rises to his feet and staggers into the apartment, trying to shimmy out of his clothes with the least amount of movement.

The coat has just landed on the floor with an unpleasant wet slapping noise when Peter notices that there's something on his desk that definitely wasn't there when he left a day and a half ago.

Perched in an apothecary bottle sits a single flower, so bright with crackling, unnatural color that it almost seems to glow in the heavy gloom of the office.

He limps over, reaching out with the arm not cradling his ribs, and delicately lifts the flower out of the bottle.

The rose is not from some botanist's greenhouse; too small and crooked, with so many wicked little thorns that if he wasn't wearing gloves, his blood would be coating the stem. No, this is a wild and hardy thing, the kind you pick, not buy.

He lifts the flower to his face, close enough that he has to close his eyes against the shifting riot of reds and pinks, and breathes in deep.

It smells very little like a rose; the floral fragrance overshadowed by other scents. It smells of London smog, tobacco stained fingers, sweet oil, and wool blanket.

Peter smiles, returning the flower to the bottle and bringing it with him to the bedroom.

There is a lamp glowing softly on the bedside table, and a lanky, beloved body sprawled on the bed.

Hobie is breathing softly, arms wrapped around Peter's pillow, a book of poetry fallen open on the blankets under one hand.

Carefully, Peter sets the flower next to the lamp, puts away Hobie's book, and sits down at the side of the bed.

At the dip of the mattress, Hobie shifts in his sleep, moving closer, and when Peter strokes his knuckles along his cheek, he turns his face into the touch, chasing it.

Peter's mask and hat hit the floor, and mindful of the ribs, he leans down to press a kiss against Hobie's temple.

"Luv?" Hobie murmurs, voice raspy with sleep, eyes blinking open to look at him. "You look like shite."

"Thanks," Peter says with a fond chuckle. "Mind moving over a bit?"

Peter strips out of his sweater and shirt, while Hobie shuffles over and holds the blankets up for when Peter finally swings his legs, pants and boots and all, onto the bed.

"You're bloody cold," Hobie complains, even as he wraps his sleep warm limbs around Peter like an octopus and buries his face in the crook of his neck. "This what happens when you're unrealistically tall. Absolutely shite circulation."

Peter chuckles, wrapping one arm around Hobie's shoulders.

"Good thing I have you around, then."

"Luckiest bloke on earth," he agrees.

Peter reaches out to turn the lamp off, and in the sudden dark, the rose smoulders with strange, vivid color.

"Yeah," Peter murmurs, Hobie's sleeping breath hot against his skin. "Yeah, I think I might be."

#noirpunk #hobie brown #spider noir #peter benjamin parker #i'm not emotional YOU'RE emotional #it's almost 2:30 am i wrote this instead of sleeping

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sleepstxtic · 2 months

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hi there! hello!

i'm kat (she/her) and you can find my work on AO3 under sleepstxtic. i'm so excited that you're here <3

if you wish to translate/create art/make a podfic/remix my works, there's nothing I'd love more. this is your blanket permission to create anything you'd like with my fics (as long as you tag/link back to me so i can take a look at it and squeal with you).

i am a strong proponent of SALS, YKINMK, and DLDR, and i also mod @hp-abandonshipfest, @hpdrizzle, and the @thorki-secretsanta

below is a sampler of my writing <3

desertion | explicit | 8.9k | feyd-rautha harkonnen/paul atreides “I found him on the drumsand, four kilometres from here,” Stilgar was saying. “He has a crysknife.” or Feyd travels to Arrakis to hunt for Paul among the Fremen.

the other golden path | explicit | 4.6k | feyd-rautha harkonnen/paul atreides “A dual consummation?” Chani asked Princess Irulan, horrified.

“A dual, public consummation,” Paul added, rubbing his eyes mournfully as Feyd-Rautha reached a hand to lift up Paul’s chin, and winked.

all the ways | teen | 3.1k all the ways it could have happened

he loves me, he loves me not | teen | 5.7k astoria watches her husband fall in love with harry potter.

a love that knows of itself | mature | 7k after an accidental bonding, harry is forced to confront some longstanding feelings concerning a certain unspeakable.

connecting lines, connecting crimes | mature | 15k magic is going haywire after ley lines all over the world are mysteriously failing. a cross-border task force is set up by the league of wixen nations with expert cartologist draco malfoy and ley line specialist pansy parkinson being called in from britain to work with magi-geographers harry potter and parvati patil in india. but can they get to the root of the issue before it's too late? featuring: an excessive use of holograms, numerous references to food, and lots and lots (and lots!) of travel.

rush (for a gap that exists) | explicit | 42k a story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in formula one history: the story of draco malfoy and harry potter.

the pirc defence | explicit | 10k they were rivals, and they were lovers, and they were the greatest chess players of their generation. exactly in that order.

whispers on a hill | helga hufflepuff/rowena ravenclaw | teen | 1k the river-moist wind blew cold and blunt as if straight from the mouth of ullr himself and, up in the valley plucking crowberry leaves sat two witches, deep in thought.

one or the other | narcissa black/dorcas meadowes & dorcas meadowes/marlene mckinnon | explicit | 3.3k dorcas becomes a murderer at eight o' clock on a friday night.

the last trial of peter pettigrew | peter pettigrew/james potter | mature | 20k | peter pettigrew must answer for his crimes on earth in a purgatory-stye court presided over by the overseer. a slew of characters from his life will be brought to the stand to testify either for or against him. he will be represented by his lawyer - hermione granger. a jury will decide upon his guilt.

strangers in a strange land | the four founders | teen | 7.5k helga, salazar, and godric dock in a strange land looking for the elusive fourth member of their team.

will you send me to hogwarts? | general audiences | 600 words a letter to the patil twins from their mother.

all the time in the world | roger federer/rafael nadal | mature | 5.6k roger has a choice to make, but time is running out.

my enemy, my proxy, my love | roger federer/rafael nadal | mature 4.4k “he is good substitute for you,” rafa’d once said, laughing. the statement had sounded uncomfortably like a truth waiting to crystallise. and then rafa had elbowed him lightly, smiling in that helplessly endearing way of his, and roger had cast it out of his mind immediately. it returns to him now, like a half-healed wound cut open again.

enough love | novak djokovic/andy murray | explicit | 2k the night before roger's retirement, andy and novak meet in london.

(the most) hopeless romantic | naomi osaka/iga swiatek | teen | 5k "i want to play her," she confided to kaja, later. "on the hard court i would like to."

“sure,” kaja said with a mischievous quirk of her mouth. “you want to play her.”

at the end of time | thor/loki | mature | 1k at the end of time, loki reminisces.

#sleepstxtic writes #drarry #hp femslash #tennis rpf #thorki #sleepstxtic masterpost

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my-castles-crumbling · 11 days

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cas review of ttpd?

Ah yes! I am finally ready!

Cas's Review of TTPD that Two (2) People Asked For (so now you all get a fucking essay)

Literally, this is growing to be one of my favorite albums. Like...I appreciate Taylor most for her lyrics and I wrote down seven pages of them in my notebook of lyrics that fucking killed me. I feel like it's a more mature version of folklore, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I really liked the promo for this album- the lyrics being spread, the phases of grief, the entire thing was so well-done. And the double album drop left me literally screaming.

I feel like the order of the songs on the album is also super well thought out. It really tells a story and I could feel her going through the phases, especially in the first half of the album.

I thought it was cool that she definitely took some risks in the album, but most of them landed 1000%. So many of the cool things done with the lyrics, melody, and tempo were amazing and kept me interested.

I'm gonna start by listing the more specific things I didn't like because there's only three:

In the song "Fresh Out The Slammer" during the outro, the change in beat was very jarring. I LOVED the rest of the song and it just ruined it for me

Florida!!! was...a choice. I get it. The concept of going away somewhere after a breakup to get over it is great. But Florida? Like...c'mon. Also "fuck me up Florida" made me cringe.

The line in "I Hate It Here" about racists...god, I have two minds about it. I don't think there was winning with that one, and I think people are going to tear her apart for it without taking it in context. Like when you take it in the bigger picture of the song, it makes sense. But when you take it in just the few lines...it feels a bit like it's trivializing the fact that literal slavery existed during that time? So yeah. I go back and forth...

And now a song ranking and my feelings about some of the songs:

Guilty As Sin? - This song has been in my head ever since I heard it. It's perfect, it's everything.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - This is giving DBATC (favorite taylor song) vibes and I am so in love. It destroyed me.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? - This is an ANTHEM. This will be screamed in the shower. This is so powerful.

But Daddy I Love Him - This was just so nostalgic. Like it gave Fearless Taylor and I loved it so much. Also the jumpscare fucking SHOOK me.

So Long, London - This was like a companion to You're Losing Me and god, it was amazingly hurtful.

loml - I just love slow, sad Taylor. and the twist at the end? ugh

I Hate It Here - Questionable line aside, this song was 15/10 relatable as a fanfic reader/writer

imgonnagetyouback - I feel like this will be a single.

The Prophecy - ouch

The Alchemy - Awww, so cute!

I Look In People's Windows

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

The Albatross

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - god she CAME for this man.

The Black Dog

Down Bad - I also feel like this will be a single

Fresh Out the Slammer

How Did It End?

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

TTPD

Cassandra - hahahaha whoops, we're coming for Kim again?

thanK you aIMee - and again? that line about her mom was AMAZING

So High School - adorable

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

Fortnight - she and Post Malone work so well together

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Peter

Robin

Clara Bow

Florida!!

What do you all think?

#ask #asks #ask cas #taylorswift #taylor swift #taylornation #taylurking #taylor #ttpd #ttpd spoilers #ts ttpd #ttpd era #taylor swift ttpd #ts11 #tortured poets department #the tortured poets department

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elisysd · 1 year

Text

The List – Maisie Peters

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So can you talk? You know I'm stacking up Until the night I'm not enough And you're just someone else I disappoint

Monaco was becoming bearable to Lyanna. She wouldn’t say that she liked the city, but she was warming up to it. There was something special in its air. In the span of three weeks, she managed to make two new friends. Charles obviously, she was starting to see him as a friend more than an acquaintance, and Kika. They instantly clicked during the dinner at Charles’. They had so many things in common. They both loved fashion, old movies that no one knew about, and random facts about animals. They were both career oriented and pretty independent. They quickly exchanged their phone numbers and promised each other to stay in touch and to organize something if they both landed to be in the same place at the same time.

As for Pierre, she didn’t have much time to get to know him. Truth be told, he was intimidating to Lyanna. He had such a big persona. The way he carried himself with such confidence was something she admired. If only she could be a little more like that. But she knew that she could learn to be his friend, at some point. After all, they had a huge common point, as they were both French. Obviously, this brought them closer.

Lyanna also admired Kika and Pierre’s relationship. They were like two sides of the same coin. They were laughing at the same things, finishing each other sentences and had the exact same look on their faces whenever they were looking at each other. It was cute. When she shared her thoughts with Kika, the young woman had admitted that it was not that easy at the beginning. She got a lot of hate because of the age gap between them. She felt alone but Pierre had never given up on her. He could have, it could have been easier. The hate was strong and she knew that it had also been a difficult time from the Frenchman. But in the end the experience had only strengthened their feelings for each other. Somehow, she was glad that it happened this way. Now it was okay, she was still receiving nasty comments from time to time, but it was easier to manage.

Naturally Kika had asked to Lyanna if she had someone special in her life, to what the actress had confessed that she didn’t have the time to date. She wanted to focus on her career, that was the most important thing to her. She had been single for three years now, and she was fine with it. She was still learning to appreciate her own company.

“My last relationship ended up with my heart shattered in pieces and a psychotherapy that is still ongoing. I don’t want to go through that again. I’m fine with me being alone. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be.”

“Yeah obviously. But still, wouldn’t you like to have someone you know you’re going home to?” asked Kika.

“I don’t even know what home is. I’m always away. I’m renting an apartment in London that I barely occupy; you know. I’m living more in my suitcases than in my place. And it’s fine, I chose it. I don’t regret it.”

“As cliché as it’s going to sound, sometime home is where the heart is.” Kika murmured, her head naturally turning to Pierre.

That night, Lyanna fell asleep with a smile on her face. It had not happened for a long time.

The days passed again. Lyanna had started filming and it was going relatively well. A little better than she had expected. David continued to behave like a total moron and some of his remarks towards Lyanna were inappropriate, but the young woman didn't pay much attention to them. She knew how to put him in his place when he needed to be put in his place, and even if this sometimes weighed on her, it did not make the atmosphere on the set intolerable. But she was wary anyway, she couldn't shake off that sick feeling in her stomach every time she met his eyes when the cameras were off.

But after a few weeks of working almost non-stop she finally had a break. She was not needed for the next three days and she was looking forward to a good sleep and doing nothing. On her way back she met Charles who was heading back from his evening run. Naturally, she asked him if he wanted to hang out, she had become accustomed to the presence of the driver in her life.

“Since you're free tomorrow, would you like to come with me so I can show you the most beautiful view of Monaco?” He offered her.

She accepted with great pleasure. However, what the Monegasque failed to mention was that he would be knocking on her door at dawn the next day.

“I knew you would have said no if I had told you that I would wake you up at 6am but trust me you won’t regret it.” He excused himself.

“Just like you oh so conveniently forgot to mention that we would have to walk. I hate exercising Charles!”

He just laughed while she tried to find in her bags and closet something appropriate for a hike. Once ready to go they headed to the underground parking lot to take Charles’ car. When they were both ready to go, Charles took a banana, a carton of juice and a croissant out of his backpack. No way was she going to walk on an empty stomach, he told her. The last thing he wanted was to have to walk back carrying her because she had a hypoglycemic episode.

“You would deserve that Leclerc. You woke me up to make me walk I don’t know for how long; you deserve all my grumpiness.” She told him.

And indeed, how grumpy she was. She decided to complain all the way. At some point Charles suspected that it was more to annoy him and tease him than real complains. For almost two hours they walked along the small footpath. Charles was ahead of Lyanna and had to stop often to check that the young woman was following him and had not turned back. When Lyanna wasn't stopping regularly to catch her breath, she was admiring the speed and ease with which Charles was moving.

Soon enough they finally reached their destination and Lyanna’s breath was taken away.

“Welcome to La Tête de Chien, the place where you can have the best view of Monaco” murmured Charles.

From where they were, they overlooked Monaco. They could see the Marina and its yachts and the mountains in the distance. The sun was not yet high in the sky and the air was breathable, so Lyanna understood better why Charles had insisted that they go there so early. There was something peaceful about this place.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” Lyanna said in awe.

Charles smiled gently and his hands in his pockets he approached the edge of the path and sat down on the small wall, motioning Lyanna to do the same. She looked like a little kid to him, trying to see everything all at once and absorbing every little detail.

“I want to stay here forever.”

Charles felt a sense of pride but didn’t mention it. There was something really beautiful about watching Lyanna truly appreciate Monaco for the first time and he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment. Instead he took his phone out and took a picture of the view before posting it as a story on Instagram. He also took a picture of is friend while she was not looking. He wanted to keep a trace of the instant.

Lyanna decided to do the same. It was time to announce that she was shooting a new movie and what better way to do it than by showing this beautiful view. A story with a quick caption would be enough, she didn’t need to do more. The marketing team of the movie would be a better job than her but still, she liked to keep people up to date with what she was working on.

What they both did not know at the moment and did not expect was that two simple stories would make everything go downhill.

Twenty-four hours after the hike, Lyanna received an unexpected call from her agent. Sophie never called her when she was shooting a movie and when her name popped out on Lyanna’s phone, she immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Do I have to sit for what you’re about to announce me?”

“Lya, good to hear you. And no, I don’t think so. But we have a B type problem on the way.”

A B type problem meant that it was related to Lyanna’s private life and that it was still under control. It was more like rumors and it didn’t involve the press. Yet. In that case it was a A type problem and signified that Lyanna’s privacy was going to be deeply impacted and turned into a shitshow. But still, B type was not good.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Do you by any chance, know the Ferrari racing driver Charles Leclerc?”

“How did you…”

“Someone on Twitter that is following both of you on Instagram pointed out that you posted the same landscapes at almost the same time. You can easily imagine wat they are deducing.”

Lyanna gulped. She didn’t imagine that something like that could happen. It was naive from her; she knew Charles was popular and she was too. Statistically, it was bound to happen that they would have followers in common.

“We are not dating, if it’s what you’re implying. We’re friends. He’s my neighbor actually, there’s nothing going on between us.” Justified Lyanna.

“You do what you want with who you want Lyanna, my job is not to monitor you. I’m just saying that for now it’s rumors, but you how fast things can escalate, I’m not going to teach you that. You do wat you want from this information. I’m just saying that he has a huge fanbase, he draws a lot of attention from the media, I checked him online. And I know how you feel about being involved with people like that.”

Another mistake that Lyanna did was that she never checked is social media presence. She should have, she could have but she never thought about it. She was not a social media person; it never crossed her mind to search Charles on Instagram or on Twitter or anywhere to be honest. She quickly typed his name on the Instagram search bar and almost choked when she saw the number of ten million followers. That was almost as much as her with her twelve million.

“Oh shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. A huge part of her valued er relationship with Charles. It made her feel good, she felt herself with him. Not Lyanna Michel, the actress, but just Lyanna. And it had been such a long time since that happened. But another part of her, smaller but more vicious could not help but reminder what happened the last time she was involved with someone famous and how it turned her life upside down and not in the good sense of the term.

From Charles’ end, it’s his little brother Arthur who taught him the rumor by texting him.

You didn’t tell me that you were involved with Carla’s favorite actress.

What do you mean??

Check Twitter.

And Charles did. And Charles first thought was, what did he do in a past life to be involved in two dating rumors in the span of a few weeks? His second thought was directed to Lyanna. He tried to call her but he went straight on her voicemail. He insisted two, three time but no answer. He texted her but no answers as well. He then went to her place. He knocked and waited but still, no answers. He insisted on knocking louder but nothing changed. And e knew she was there, he could hear noise from inside. She was shutting him out. And it made him upset.

“Lyanna, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Still nothing but if she wanted to be stubborn, so was Charles. Two could play that game.

“I won’t leave until you open this door. I will knock and knock again until you talk to me. I know you saw Twitter. We have to talk about it Lyanna.”

Finally she opened. A little, just a crack but enough for Charles to slip through the gap left by the opening. And then she was there, observing him, not saying one thing. It was like all the progress he made with her; all the trust that took a little time be built vanished. All of his work reduced to nothing. She was acting like a scaredy cat. She didn’t say a word to him.

“We’re friends Lyanna. Don’t shut me out.” He began.

“You are more famous than what I thought.”

Charles didn’t understand what she meant by that and how it was a problem.

“I’m still Charles. Famous or not. I didn’t change between yesterday and today.”

“You’re drawing attention. People have expectations. People are talking.”

She was rambling and on the verge of a panic attack. Naturally Charles made a move toward her but was surprised when she backed down.

“Lyanna, it’s not because that we are both under the public eye that we can’t be friends. We are human and human have friends.”

“I don’t want famous ones. I want my peace and quiet. Going out with you was a mistake. Posting on social media was a beginner mistake. Now, people are making up stuff.”

“I don’t care about what people think.”

“I do care!” She yelled. “I do care about my privacy being displayed online as entertainment, I will care when the press sees that as an opportunity to twist the truth and creates a story that I have no control over.”

“You can’t always control everything. You have to trust people. You have to trust me. We are both impacted here. I don’t care about the rumors; I only care about the truth and both you and I know it. And it’s enough. I won’t hide Lyanna. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want to do, no matter what people think. You should do the same, you have to. This is why you accepted to play Sally, right?”

“Well excuse me, but in the equation, I never thought to add going out with a celebrity.”

“Stop giving me that celebrity image Lyanna! I never thought of myself as such nor did I ever think of you the same way!” He snapped. “And I could have. But I didn’t because it’s not fair. I know you and…”

“That’s the thing Charles.” She cut him “You think you know me, but you don’t. We have known each other for what, three maybe four weeks. You can’t pretend to know me. Just like I can’t pretend that I know you.”

“Let me get to know you then. Let me know why you’re acting this way, let me know why you’re so scared that you don’t let me come near you! I want to Lyanna. But you don’t let me.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to! Maybe because if I told you all the twisted things I have been through, you would not understand and then you would leave me alone.”

“Don’t make this decision for me. Let me understand.”

“And for what? People leave when someone baggage is too heavy. And then what will I have left? Nothing. I won’t take that risk.”

“You’re not being fair. You have you own demons to face, I get that and I want to be there for you. But I won’t if you don’t help me understand. I can’t be a good friend then.”

“You would not understand Charles! Why are you so stubborn?”

The conversation was starting to be heated. Both of them refusing to meet halfway.

“You are scared and you’re acting as a coward Lyanna. I don’t know what you went through but you can’t let past events dictate youre life and your choices.”

“As if you knew something about hard times Charles! You grew up here, in a privileged world. You live the perfect life. You are not going to make me believe that you know something about traumas. You don’t know what it means to lose people.”

That hurt Charles more than anything. Scared to say something that he would regret and because they were not both in any state to have a real and appeased conversation, he decided to leave. He looked at her one last time before closing the door.

========

taglist - if you want to be added let me know @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #fiction #writing #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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