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k-s-morgan · 2 years

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ty for sharing your stories with us (both fics and updates from ukraine). you are a brilliant writer and i love your hannigram stories and meta. it helped me understand hannigram better on my rewatch! sorry you're going through this, hope you and your family are safe, and there are better days ahead for you. *hugs* 💖 ps: i'd love to know what your thoughts are on their mind palace. why it exists, how it functions, the dynamics of sharing/visiting rooms in each other's palaces etc.

Thank you so much for your wonderful ask! I’m really glad you’ve been enjoying my posts and stories, this means a lot to me.

The question about Will and Hannibal’s mind palace is very interesting. Let’s start with them both describing how their palaces look through the seasons.

Hannibal: My palace is vast, even by medieval standards. The foyer is the Norman chapel in Palermo, severe and beautiful and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven in the floor ... All the palace chambers are not lovely, light and high. In the vaults of our hearts and brains, danger waits. There are holes in the floor of the mind.

[My childhood home is] at the center of my mind. And here you are, feeling for the latch.

[My Baltimore office] holds sound and motion, great snakes wrestling and heaving in the dark. Other rooms are static scenes, fragmentary... like painted shards of glass. Screams fill some of those places. But the corridors do not echo screaming... because I hear music.

We also have this addition from Will:

[The Norman chapel isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed. Hannibal is well armed against the physical world, but there are places within himself he can't safely go. But [I] can. If [I] find them.

For Will, we have one line + many images.

Will: All I need is a stream.

From what we see in S2, he prefers to stand in the middle of the stream, which changes its depths depending on the situation. The greenery is around, hiding mystery and potential danger.

The quotes indicate that in S3, Will decides to enter Hannibal’s Mind Palace, and from then on, their rooms begin to merge.

Hannibal: Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.

This whole quote is precious. Hannibal not only acknowledges that he and Will have begun to blur in terms of their mental spaces, but he also admits that he discovered a triumphant Will in his mind - Will has conquered parts of it, and now Hannibal submits to him. He fully accepts the power Will holds over him.

Why their mind palaces exist: separately, they give them a chance to retreat from a hostile environment or just immerse themselves into something deep, relaxing and intimate. Will and Hannibal both hide from prison in their minds: Will is fishing, Hannibal is enjoying the music. Their specific memories make up some of the rooms: some are good, some are bad, and they revisit the good ones & avoid the bad ones.

Since they had such a profound impact on each other, it was inevitable that they made life-changing memories together and their palaces merged. They both saw the church in Palermo and it began to mean something to them as a couple: we see them both sitting there in the deleted epilogue to the show. They are quiet and peaceful, enjoying the calmness and each other.

Some rooms will forever belong to Will and Hannibal separately, like the stream and the childhood rooms, but I think the more years they spend together, the more areas will appear that belong to them both. So even if they are ever separated, they will be able to visit each other there, in their minds - their unique mental connection will allow them to reconstruct the images of each other with perfect clarity.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #meta #mind palace

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deterioratingxprisons · 2 years

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Late. Checked his watch- and then again thirty seconds later. It didn’t change the time, though he assumed he had misread it. She was never late. Never. Not in the six months, three weeks and four days they had been together. She got out of church at 7:30 pm… sometimes 7:40 if she was stopped and was forced to chat with others. Then it was a ten minute walk from the church to their shared apartment where he would wait like a dog by the door for her to return. There was little Amnon did while Arlo went to evening service. It wasn’t like he had no life- he worked- but Sundays he had off. The one day a week for the most part where he had off to spend time with his girlfriend. And she had to go to church! God, she wasn’t even that religious. She was just an addict seeking reprieve anywhere she could find it. Well… he was standing right there by the door waiting to help her find some fucking reprieve if she wouldn’t be so late!! What was she doing out so late anyways? She should have been home at 7:50- at the latest 7:55 in the evening. It was 8:00. Ten. Minutes. Late. Which was uncharacteristic for Arlo because she told him constantly how important time was and how she had to be on time and just had to-had to-had to- had to be there on time!! Jesus Christ she was late!

His chest constricted, a million thoughts bombarding his brain as he paced the worn oak finish in the foyer. Back and forth, to the wall leading into the kitchen to the opposite side of the small walkway curving into a small dining area with a round table and four chairs. Two for them. Two for guests and if needed there was the bench in their bedroom which held no purpose. They didn’t have many friends. They never had guests over. Amnon wasn’t sociable enough for a dinner and parlor games. His watch face read 8:02. She was pushing it. He typed out yet another text, deleting the same message over six times before actually sending it.

[text to: My 🖤] where are you? Are you okay? I’m getting worried, sweetheart…

Ragged breaths, hair raked through over and over, Amnon kept glancing to the door. Open open open open open open!! Dammit! Why wouldn’t it listen! Why was she gone? Had she decided to leave him? Without so much as a notice? A simple text? Not even to come home and grab her belongings? That was it?! Half a year wasted and she cared so little to not even earn him? Had he not felt glued to the front door he would have ran to the bathroom, stomach churning with dread of the unknown. She wouldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She might simply be injured… even then, that was probably worse. How would he ever find her? Retrace the steps she took consistently to church every Sunday and Wednesday three times a week… she never deviated. Or so he thought. He had trusted her to mean what she was saying when she said it. Was she being unfaithful? Oh fucki- the doorknob twisted- Amnon stopping dead in his tracks as his head snapped towards the door. Arlo?

// @champagneandparacosm

#uttering my defense~ amnon greene #tagging: champagneandparacosm

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fakefrench10 · 5 months

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I am traveling

Very warm, sunny city. I see a lot of brown and orange and yellow. The sun is bright but not burning. I almost know this place. Giant buildings with incredible details. On my right there was one. I didn’t pay too much attention, because it was similar to other buildings, just way bigger. Now I remember it was not just bigger. The ceiling was like twenty meters. Stairs ended where you couldn’t see. The reception desk was normal size. Maybe it was a museum or university. Everything brown marble with gold and orange and red and green. Sure I saw that stone so many times. In a church? in a castle? museum? London? Berlin? Portugal?

And sure I knew that place. It had weird rotating doors, which is impractical for such a place with the same ideal temperature all year long. I had all the time in the world. Also weird because there was a concierge that would open the door for you. The rotating? I knew the place though. Headed straight to the toilet. I think it had the same layout as my university. My university, I saw it too many times before. On occasions like this. In all kinds of lightings and colors and shapes. Got even lost a few times.

Thought to go to the toilet just in case. I had still a lot to walk. Tourist with a plan. There were no cabins. Just rows of stalls. A lot of blue and white and silver. Light coming in from the windows. Sun. That was the only source of light. Very bright. The whole wall was windows. Old fashioned ones. White frames dividing a window in six parts. Everything was many hundred years old but looked fresh. Started walking on my right. Isles of stalls. One woman was too loud alone in one isle. No doors. I skipped. One was dirty. Further there was a whole family occupying an isle. Didn’t understand the language. Seems they were deciding something while also helping their kids with the toilet. I walked back and to the left from the door. That was the shower area. Actual cabins. Still no doors. Metal sink like vessels, where one would sit in and on a metal sit and shower. Around the sit there were little metal compartments for soap and things. All in positions where one could easily find. It was a big row of cabins like that. All occupied by women looking pretty much alike. My mom’s age. A bit overweight. White, with brown-ginger hair. There was a steam, but all accumulated somehow close to the ceiling. And none on the windows.

I thought, well, I didn’t have to go that badly anyway and just left the bathroom. The steamy bathroom was as nicely warm as the all-stone-everything foyer. On the way out I saw the concierge. He was dressed in a black suit with red outlines in a rope-like knitted fabric. Golden buttons, many of them, going all the way to the neck, to the standing collar. You could still see the white shirt and the tie underneath. Black boots to the knee. A black hat with a shiny leather around it. A Chauffeur hat. An older men. Very fit and neat. The man for the job. But not living for it. He had two days beard on. With my look I let him know I will open the door myself. He nodded and smiled with approval. We nodded and smiled like old friends.

Outside I was busy singing a melody. Of a symphony that just came to me. Was composing it on the go. It was most probably the first movement, the Sonata. It was upbeat. Setting the mood of the piece. I had a feeling I started singing not from the start but from my favorite part. I thought it would have been nice to be a musician and write it down later. It was too beautiful and too late for that.

I got rid of the thought of writing it down, to focus, to not miss any of the moments. The future was not worth it. Every other times, I thought it’d be better to write it down. Every other time turned into a work. A text. A memory. Every other time there was someone in my essence. Someone I was beyond comfortable to have. Every other time there was something in my bloodstream. Something I trusted. This time it was absolutely pure. Out of nowhere.

Outside, suddenly it was green and grey, hilly. I was singing the melody, playing air-piano. And air-organ. And air violin. All at the same time. Walking very fast. Dancing. Actually sliding on my toes to the tact, like a ballerina. Up and up. Hill after hill. Not getting tired. New tons, fresher and more sophisticated just composing themselves on the go.

The houses up the hills looked rich and tasteful. All a bit alike but you wouldn’t mix them up. I don’t remember too clearly how I met this girl. In front of one of the houses. I knew her. I was obsessed. But not out of my mind obsessed. It was a decision to be obsessed. She must have been who I meant when I said ‘’it’s not out of the question’’ the other day, when Ulysses asked me if it was out of question. She had a pretty face. Very clean skin, little nose, smiling eyes. Very large forehead. hair to the ears. Like mine. I thought that house is not her style. Too fancy and too quiet. It couldn’t be hers.It wasn’t.

Don’t remember how we ended up at her place. In city center, where there are no hills. Students area I thought. It was a tiny place. with a bed on the floor. A lot of wood. The floor. The ceiling. Very little furniture. many pieces of bedsheets and covers. All randomly on the floor and the bed. Red and green and yellow and brown. Maybe we had closed the window blinds. It felt comfortable like that. Didn’t even try to imagine what the sunlight would do to the view.

I had one pizza and she had her’s. Looked at the box of mine. Noted the name of the restaurant under the under-10 row on a colorful paper she had. Her’s was more expensive. I felt bad a bit. But really I didn’t care. I was sure. Decided to be sure.We ate each one piece. I thought it was enough to get food out of my head. I started kissing her.

She said ‘wait’. Did some gesture, and now I could only see the front of her face without the eyes, ears or mouth or nose. The rest of the face seemed floating in the air like an animation. Like a ghost. Still had the sensation of having her hair in my fingers a second ago. I continued. She was very thin. Thinner than me. I continued. I thought she liked it. I couldn’t tell. Put aside my ego. I was given the power and had to use it. Show it. Play it. At least in words and moves. At one moment I wished I could see her eyes. Just to see how she looks when I kiss her. Get some reassurance. But then it was the first time and would make me shy a bit. I said ‘I am so ready for you’. That was not the answer to whatever she asked. In fact that was what she should have said to me. I was not able to support my decisions anymore. I kept ignoring those red flags or blue or any.

The next thing I know I am at my parents’, sleeping in front of a christmas tree. Half sleeping. I see how two very big candles fall on the floor and magically get back to their place. The decorations too. It seems someone is animating them. Line turning back the time. But every time the broken decorations and half curved candles on the floor head back to their places in a completely different more creative way. I go back to sleep and think it was a dream. Then it happens again. It’s definitely not a dream. The candles are just playing. I force myself to get up. News on my parents’ tv. Huge flood somewhere in Australia. It’s been raining heavily for days. Cars stuck in water. The reporter is on a roof of one. I saw the girl on a roof of another one. Talking about climate change and helping people. That’s what she does she tells. Goes to places of disasters and helps around. She was all over the news.

My mom comes in with my phone. You know how you can hide your notifications on iphone? I don’t do it. So anyone can see my messages on the lock screen. My mom says ‘I thought you would need this’ and hands me over my phone. She knows I have been waiting for that message. With all the rescuing and television and terrible rain and floods, she wrote ‘Sorry I didn’t answer earlier. A lot is going on’

Not every dream is colorful.

#dream #meaning

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speakresilience · 1 year

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Around 2008, I worked as a Dance Ministry Leader for Willow Creek Chicago for about 5 years before moving to GA. To dance, teach, choreograph, partner, and lead -grateful. There’s nothing like when God positions you. I remember walking into our new location we had raised money to build, downtown Chicago. I recall looking up the wall, near the ceiling of the foyer and became overwhelmed. We had all worked so diligently to trust God in new ways during that time in life that this building was our collective kingdom win. These years were among the most rewarding, transparent, service experiences of my life. Part of the reason I modeled in college is because, Representation Matters. Seeing myself on the wall in a community I served in, alongside other people I served with, gave me a sense of pride that is hard to describe. This image of me meant that in all the areas where I was disrespected, overlooked and set aside, we didn’t just talk about diversity and inclusion, we were living it. Raised by a single Mother who had more challenges than could be counted in her quest to raise me well. Battling everything from racism and learning disabilities to abuse and mental challenges; my Mother sacrificed much and someday, her story will be told. The day my Mom saw this image, she sat on the chair and cried. For her, she was proud that someone she gave birth to could be there, in a public building’s wall! This post may be viewed many ways. For me, it’s a memory that offered representation, it is an honor to have been so well loved by a community as well as we were, and it was more than church. We are all figuring life out! I have been given a platform in which to help others. I believe that we can only win together if we are willing to grow together. I know that I have much room to improve and one day at a time, with God’s grace, I will be EXACTLY who I’ve been created to be. Either way - Grateful. #throwbackthursday #peace #purpose #prosperity #selflove #toseimaj #toseimajtv #diversityandinclusion #speakresilience #caipromo #caibusinessgroup #instagram #instadaily (at ATL-Atlanta,Ga) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpkvi9yg0lJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#throwbackthursday #peace #purpose #prosperity #selflove #toseimaj #toseimajtv #diversityandinclusion #speakresilience #caipromo #caibusinessgroup #instagram #instadaily

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kylexdaniel · 1 year

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Blog 3, Jan 07: Churches: Identify 3 design features from the Jubilee Church that differ from a "traditional" church, and discuss how those design choices might influence the user experience.

1. Meier Designed the church to look like a ship. Three enormous white concrete sails that swell as though propelled by an East wind define the fundamental and severe church complex, which has succeeded in fusing the holiness of its interior with the livability of its vast exterior areas.

2. The whole northern half of the property is taken up by the community center and the nearby courts. Through bridges leading to the atrium, sanctuary, organ loft, and sacristy, the L-shaped structure is connected to the church's northern side. The auditorium and catechism classes on the second level are connected to the priest's office and meeting spaces on the ground floor by a top-lit foyer.

3. The church is also pretty bare on the inside. The walls had almost nothing on them. From many of my peers they described them as looking "sterile" and made people feel a bit uneasy.

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mason-fanfiction · 2 years

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Chapter 6: The Red Paladin

Mel and Mike Tarny arrive at the Church of Scientology in Wallingford, CT. They step through the reflective glass doors. Mike Tarny sips the green drink he is cradling in his hands. He’s wearing a shirt.

Mel and Tarny peer around the lobby area with intrigue. The calming vibrations of AJR’s hit original single “Bang Bang!” is projecting from the overhead speakers into the skulls of the lobby members. Mel taps his foot along to the music. He loves the band AJR, even in their old age. If Mason knew the truth, Mel would be living on the streets.

Mel glances at Mike Tarby’s green drink. “Why is you drink green?” he quanders judgingly. There’s no place nearby to acquire a green liquid that Mel knows of. Mike Tarny looks down but doesn’t respond. Mel scoffs his mouth. I guess I’ll never know.

A woman at the front desk greets them. “Can I help you?”

Mel crosses the lobby to greet her at the front desk and Mike Tarny follows like a little duckling.

“Yes, we’re looking for Spider, I was told he would be here.”

She flips through a few pages of a clipboard. “Which Spider?”

“Uhh…” Mel looks at Mike Tarny but Tarny shrugs his shoulders. “The Australian one.”

“They’re all Australian,” she laughs condescendingly. “It’s a common name over there.”

“Ok, fuck you, he’s-“

“Mellophone!” An Australian voice shouts from across the foyer. Mel and Tarny whip their heads around. It’s Spider!

“Spider!” Mel smiles and dabs him up.

Mike Tarny stands directly behind Mel. He raises his hand in greeting. “Hiya, I’m Mike Tarny.” Spider can’t see him because he’s behind Mel.

Mel ignores Mike Tarny. “You gotta come with us, dude. Butch Ashley appeared to me while in the bathroom at Tarny’s car wash slash house. She told me we have to go to this river, and there’s a thing in the river, and you’re the key or something. I don’t know, I was so freaked out, the memory is starting to go in the vault. But Tarny knows what I’m saying, right?”

Tarny now scoots beside him. “Yeah, I heard her say there’s a secret base in the river and we need to go there with you. This could really help Mel on his quest, right Mel?”

Mel continues to speak, “I really think this will help me on my quest.”

Spider is silent for moment, looking back and forth at Mel and Mike Tarny. “I hav to stay heyre. Oim becomin’ a priest. I canny just leave.” He ushers them towards the glass doors. “This is moi passion boys. Take cayre. And Mel-“ Mel stops in the door as Spider pats his shoulder. “Promise me ya’l go home and check on Mason, aight mate? Buy him a brayclet far his one arm. And check on him, today.” Spider winks with a smile.

“Got it, man. Thanks.” Mel walks out of the building.

—-

“Let’s kidnap him,” Mel says as he steps out of the building. “We need him, and I’m not leaving this lake undiscovered.”

“Ok!” Mike Tarny agrees.

“K, I have an idea too.”

—-

As Mel, Mike Tarny, and Elizabeth She crawl through the surprisingly spacious vents of the Wallingford Scientology building, Mike Tarny suggests a few ice breakers for the group to try.

“We used to do some sick ice breakers in marching band back in the day. I played mellophone- just like your name, Mel!”

Mel rolls his eyes as he crawls behind Tarny. “Yeah I get it.” After a beat of silence, Mel adds, “How about you tell me how you lost my brother? How’s that for an ice breaker?”

Mike Tarny’s shoulders tense up at the mention of Mel’s half-brother. “I told you, Mel, I just lost him. He just gone. I don’t know what happened. I’ve always felt guilty about it, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” Mel says, scowling. “You really couldn’t just cause 9/11 and fuck off, huh? You had to lose a baby too.”

Elizabeth She stops in her tracks. “Wait-“

“Well I feel bad about 9/11 too. I’ll never forget.” He raises his fist in the air and says, “We will, uh, overcome.”

When Mel doesn’t reply, Mike Tarny takes a deep breath. “Ok, I don’t like telling the story, but I’ll tell you the details Mel. And you too, Elizabeth, I guess.” Mike Tarny is confused as to how this random assortment of people came together. Elizabeth nods but still feels like a third wheel.

“Like I said before, Mason gave me his baby at the end of Age of Mellophones. He said he didn’t want it because it was fat,” Mike Tarny starts.

“At the end of what?” Mel asks.

“You know, the memoir Britt wrote of Mason’s love life in college. It has like ten chapters. Mostly about me and Ryan fighting for his love.”

“Oh yeah, I heard that story. It sounded like a fanfiction. I call it Mason Fanfiction,” Mel says.

“Sure, I think we all do,” Mike Tarny says. “Anyways, the child, your half-brother, was named Fatty. He was my biological son. I loved him like a son, because he was. My son. I raised him like a single mom in my shitty college apartment, but I was living my best life. Me and Fatty would take on the world together.” Mike Tarny stops crawling momentarily to take in the memories.

“I was a band captain for marching band my senior year at UConn. I was dating Shelly still, and she’d help me take care of Fatty when she had time, which was very sweet.”

“How often did she have time?” Elizabeth She asks, for some reason.

“Oh, well she was always very busy hanging out with her friends and writing captions for her instagram posts. But one time she read a story to Fatty about the concept of rest, which was very nice. Well she didn’t read it, she played her podcast for him.”

Elizabeth She nods.

“I had to bring Fatty to band practice (bractice) because the directors wouldn’t let me skip or I would fail band.”

“That’s not normal,” Mel chimes in.

“Band is great,” A chip in Mike Tarny’s neck beeps as he reflexively defends the UCMB. He continues, “One day, we were playing at a football game, and it was a really exciting game. Our team was only 21 points behind, they actually had a chance to lose by a reasonable amount. So we were all excited, doing our cheers, really focused in on the game. I always placed Fatty under my seat with my marching hat.

“In like a baby holder?”

“No, just raw.” Mike Tarny chuckles, “Sometimes he would squirm too far to the side and I’d have to edge him back with my dinkle, lol.”

“Lol,” Mel and Elizabeth repeat.

“Yeah. So, the game ends, and they lost by 209 points, but it was a good effort. I go to collect my things under my seat, and Fatty is gone.” Mike Tarny sighs in embarrassment. “It was so fucking embarrassing. I had to be like, ‘Where’s my baby?’ I was shouting ‘Fatty!’ at everyone around me. Some people misinterpreted that, and they wouldn’t let me do band the next year, so I just graduated and took a job in Wisconsin. Really destroyed some of my confidence if I’m being honest.”

Mel and Elizabeth stare at him. They’re still in the vents btw.

“Yeah, and Shelly broke up with me because I wasn’t growing as a person anymore. I decided to just move back to Wallingford because I love this town. It’s such a charming and quirky little corner of paradise.” He takes another deep breath but gets lightheaded and has to sit down. Then he realizes he’s already laying down, because they’re in the vents.

“Ok…” Mel starts, “So you just didn’t look for Fatty after that day? Didn’t contact the police?”

“Of course I did,” Mike Tarny says. “Look Mel, it’s been 16 years, I’ve tried everything. You don’t have to keep asking questions.”

Suddenly, the group hears Australian snoring noises coming from another room. They peer into the ventilation hole in the Hole in front of them. They see Spider sleeping about eight feet below them.

“Ok, you guys know the plan, let’s just do this,” Mel says.

—-

Mel drops ties a knot to something in vent and then slides down quietly until he’s standing at the foot of Spider’s race car bed. “Hey, Spider, wake up!” He shouts.

Spider gurggles drowsily, wipes his eyes, and looks towards the noise. “Gday Mel, what’s this abouyt?”

As Mel stalls, Mike Tarny tells Elizabeth She several funny jokes in the ventilation system. She begins to laugh, and directs her laugh towards the hole that leads to Spider’s room. As she laughs, she sucks up the oxygen from the room.

Mel notices his senses dimming and promptly equips his oxygen mask.

Spider doesn’t notice a thing, and continues to reply to Mel’s question about sex. “…and ya realy gott’a make sure ya have a blowtorch on ya when….it’s time….far ya..big noight.” Spider’s eyes begin to close, and he passes out due to asphyxiation.

“Ok, that’s enough!” Mel shouts.

Mike Tarny insults Elizabeth She. “You’ll never be a singer,” he says. She stops laughing.

They drop down from the rope and make sure Spider is still breathing, just unconscious.

“Alright, let’s get him to the river.”

—-

Elizabeth She abandons the group because of Mike Tarny’s comment about her singing career, leaving only Mel and Mike Tarny to complete the quest. The two lads carry Spider out of the Scientology building in the dead of the night. Mike Tarny managed their information system so they were not spotted or questioned by anyone. It works in their favor, as they have to take frequent breaks. They both did band, and played mellophone, which isn’t heavy, so their muscles are not used to this.

They pack Spider into the trunk of Mike Tarny’s white can and drive to the Wallingford river docking point.

“So that worked, but how are we getting to the secret base?” Mike Tarny asks Mel. “It’s in like, the middle of the river.”

“I called Uncle Bone,” Mel explains. “He didn’t answer, or set up his voicemail, so I texted him. Luckily he was still awake because his crew just completed a shipment for Greasy Dick. They were just turning in for the night. I asked for a favor.”

“Well that’s nice of Bone.” Mike Tarny drives through a red light by accident, like Ashley Brown right before Huskython 2022. “You can call me Uncle Mike Tarny if you want, I don’t mind. Mason and I are still pals. We used to have a lot of sex, ya know.”

“Maybe I’ll call you Uncle 9/11,” Mel snaps back. Mike Tarny switches his focus to the road and continues to drive quietly.

Finally, they arrive at a docking station containing a number of grand pirating vessels. Each ship has their own unique flag. Mel searches through the flags before landing on the one with the single bone. “There,” he says.

Bone, PJ, Sea Man, and other crew members are standing out front, chatting. A few of the bros have cold glasses of beer, while others have monster energy drinks. Mike Tarny takes out his green drink to fit in and talks to Sea Man away from the group.

“Hey Bone, you sure you’re okay with taking us to the dropping point?” Mel asks as he and Mike Tarny take an unconscious Spider out of the trunk. None of the mateys bat an eye, but rather begin to help them secure Spider onto the pirating vessel.

“Yeah,” Bone says. “Did you bring the payment?”

Mel pays Bone in wires, and also one C cup lacey hot pink bra from Victoria’s Secret. Bone beams at his payment, his boobs breasting tiddily. He’s wearing a low-cut top and he’s showing some cleavage ;). John Green is there, and writes something down in his notebook.

“Sick, you got the XXX-Tentacion wire. I’ve been trying to find this. Thanks, man.” Bone’s boobies jiggle like as he speaks, like in anime. “Come on board.” he gestures towards the boat, and the two boys climb on with their unconscious friend.

—-

After about 30 minutes of sailing through the clean sweet-water river of Wallingford CT, the lookout aboard the ship signals that they’ve reached their destination. Mel and Mike Tarny peer overboard. At first, there’s no sign of anything special below the rhythmic movements of the waves. Then, they spot a light source beaming from deep below the water. “That must be it!” Mel shouts.

“Here,” Bone hands them three Google Pixel phones. “Attach these to your feet and you’ll sink right down. There’s probably an opening, and we’re not sure how to check otherwise, so just send it,” he explains.

“Ok,” Mike Tarny says, but Mel looks concerned. “Hey, we’ll be alright, Mel. This isn’t my first experience trying to find a hole.”

Mel takes the android phone in disgust. “I don’t even care if I die after that.” Mel and Mike Tarny step up to the Edge of the ship. They walk the plank and hold Spider upright between them.

Mel takes a deep breath and slaps Spider across the face, promptly waking him up from his brief coma. Spider jolts awake, takes in his surroundings, and inhales as he begins to shout, “Mel-“

With that, the three boys are pushed off of the plank and plunged into the cool midnight water of the Wallingford River. The android phones drag their bodies downward at an alarming speed, as everyone holds their breath against the push and pull of the water as it displaces their bodies. They feel pressure push against them as they sink deeper, and the welcoming moonlight of the surface water dims and is blackened by the increase in depth.

On the way down, Mel makes out several objects lost to the Wallingford River over time. He sees a peppa pig plushie. The money Cristian borrowed from Kate. Eddy the fish (alive and well). Britt’s iPhone 8.

Just as Mel begins to worry about the descent, a beacon of light shines directly beneath them. He looks down and can make out a circle of light glowing warmly against the sandy bottom of the river. The android phones plummet directly into the hole, and land on a tiled floor inside of a room below the bottom of the river. After the boys pass through the hole, the ceiling closes up, and the water around them drains. They each gasp for air.

They stand in a completely tiled room, from floor to ceiling, like a community pool bathroom. The light from the hole was emitting from sensors below their feet, which seem to detect motion. They walk through a set of double doors into a much darker room, with tall walls and floors made of a black stone, and gothic chandeliers hanging from the ceiling emitting an orange light.

Mel immediately splits from the group and walks through a few rooms, trying to discover the purpose of the base, and who it belongs to. There’s a room of maps, with detailed images of each territory of Wallingford. His house is circled with a red marker. There are random lines drawn from his house to other parts of the town. He starts to feel uneasy about the situation.

He walks into a another room which seems to be dedicated to various female politicians and queer women. Another room has countless cases of instruments in it, with a string of 9 numbers drawn on the cases in chalk. Mel spots a case with his social security number on it, and opens the case to find a mellophone. One room just has glass display cases with various costumes, including a rat costume, a war uniform, and an empty display with a gold plaque that reads “Fake Beard”. One room has a coffin in it.

Freaked out, Mel returns to the main room. Mike Tarny emerges from the instruments room, looking equally aghast. “I just saw an instrument case with my social security number on it,” he says, his voice shaking. “What is this place?”

Mel shrugs, takes out his phone, and dials Mason’s number. To his relief, Mason picks up before the first ring.

“Hi,” Mason says.

“Oh, Mason, thank god. Listen, I found a base under the river. I’m with Spider and Mike Tarny. There’s a war uniform here, and a map with our house circled. Do you know someone who would be collecting things like instruments, social security numbers, female politicians? This has to be the person who targeted you.”

“Oh my god. Yes, that’s obviously Shelly. I haven’t seen her in years though.”

“Oh!” Mel looks at Mike Tarny. “Ok, I have her ex here. That has to be who targeted you and ordered the grenades to blow you tf up!”

“Mike Tarny is there? Tell him I say hi sexy. But playfully. YOO that makes sense actually. I knew I recognized the person in that uniform, but I couldn’t quite place it. They were dressed like a man, but it was Shelly’s face. She must have pretended to be a man to get into the war, like in Mulan.”

“That’s insane,” Mel says. “This must be why Butch Ashley sent me here. This is the truth we’ve been searching for. But then why did I have to bring Spider?” Mel stops short.

Mel thinks of the map room in the base with his house circled. He thinks of the vision he had of Butch Ashley earlier. Was it a vision? He remembers how the image of her flickered. She didn’t spin out of the room like she did at the hospital. She just…dissipated. Like a projection. Fabricated. Someone wanted him to bring Spider here.

He spins around quickly. “Wait, where is Spider?” Mike Tarny shrugs. Mel’s heart beats faster.

Mel and Mike Tarny traverse each room of the base, calling his name. There’s no sign of him.

“Oh my god…” Mel says. He suddenly remembers the advice Spider gave him earlier, in the Scientology building. It wasn’t advice, thinks Mel, It was a warning. Spider knew something was up. He’s known for a while. That’s why he didn’t want to go with them.

And we brought him right into this trap, Mel feels a sharp pang of guilt.

Where could he have gone now? And who could have taken him? As soon as the questions cross Mel’s mind, he already knows the answer. The evidence is all around him. Shelly.

Would she stop there? Or would she take anyone else?

Spider’s voice replays in his head, “Promise me ya’l go home and check on Mason, aight mate? Buy him a brayclet far his one arm. And check on him, today.”

“Hey, Mase?” Mel says slowly, “Is the house locked?”

“No, w-“ The sound of glass breaking is suddenly heard on the other end of the line. Mel stands paralyzed as he can only listen to a struggle take place, and the call is abruptly cut off.

#chapter 6 #the red paladin

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peachpitfics · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Summary: Every year Rossi holds a Christmas Eve dinner, the Team and their little families attend. This is your first one, and coincidentally, you get caught under the mistletoe.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: SpencerReid x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: ~none~

A/N: Hiiii, this is super fluffy and sweet. Hopefully the first of a few Christmas themed fics. I hope you like it!!

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You never had anywhere to go for the holidays. You had no real family, moved to a new state, and joined a new force only a few weeks ago. The new team you worked with was a tight knit family. They had been together for years and while they were welcoming and did their best not to exclude you, it was hard to bear the inside jokes and recalling of memories you were not a part of. What shocked and surprised you most about their bond, was the family Christmas held at Rossi’s huge house. Everyone, and their families would come, eat a glorious Christmas dinner, and spend it together.

You rang the doorbell and stood, rugged up on the doorstep, huge wooden and glass double doors in front of you. Dave answered the door, arms wide open as he took you in a loving embrace. “Thanks for inviting me” You shuffled into the house awkwardly, passing Rossi two bottles of wine as he showed you where you could shed your winter coverings. Rossi’s house was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. You were sure it had to have been professionally done. “Thank you y/n, this is great. I’m so glad you could make it out here tonight” Dave beamed at you, “And you look beautiful”. You hadn’t put too much effort in tonight but dressed nicely for dinner at least. What he said made you blush; you hid your face as he led you into the dining room. “Hey! Looks who’s here” Morgan smiled across the table. Garcia, sitting next to him, waving overly excitedly. You waved back, clearly not having had any eggnog. As you sat down, in between Hotch and JJ, Hotch poured eggnog into your glass and clinked glasses with you. “We’re just waiting on the kid, he said he was on the phone with his Mom. But he should be almost here” Rossi shared with them.

They all sat around the table, laughing at Garcia who was intoxicated, conversing over Christmas memories from their childhood. Not all of them were overly happy memories, just thoughts of a simpler time. “What about you, y/n? Favourite Christmas memory from when you were a child?” Hotch asked. Emily looked worriedly at you, she had been the one you spoke to and got to know out of everybody. “Well... um” Clearing your throat, you paused as Spencer walked in and slipped into his seat beside Garcia and across from you. “Yeah, okay. I think I was about 8... I was in my second group home and there were about 15 kids of all different ages. The church choir stopped by to sing carols to us in the evening; and, uh, we had a roast chicken, a lot of us had never experienced Christmas before so it was pretty wonderful. The church also brought us a box of second-hand toys, which was lovely. I think that’s probably the best one” Everyone stared at you in awe. The type of awe you were dreading. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat as they started to notice that the staring was out of control. “I didn’t know you were a foster kid” Morgan said somberly, having grown up in an area with a lot of foster kids himself. “Yeah, I was. It wasn’t so bad” You smiled softly, begging someone to take the attention off of you. “Sorry I’m late, you guys, my Mother was reminiscing about Christmas in 1969” Spencer chuckled awkwardly. And that was the end of it, their focus was changed, and Spencer was explaining his Mother’s story, which in turn was quite boring.

Within 30 minutes, Rossi and several servers emerged from the kitchen, bringing platters and large bowls and more wine. It was the most extravagant thing you’d seen in your whole life. I’ve never even been a restaurant this nice, you thought to yourself, watching as they served. Rossi held in his hands an exceptionally large knife, whilst standing over the bird, gathering everyone’s attention. “For me, Christmas means being with family. Sharing it with you, makes it the most precious and special time of the year” Rossi paused, “To family”. Everyone raised their glasses and repeated the toast back to him. He carved the meat, and you all passed the fixings round the table. It was the most delicious food you’d ever had. You began to wonder if everyone with a family had a lovely Christmas like this every year.

Before long, the kids were playing hide and seek throughout the house as all the adults made their way into the awesomely large sitting room. Everyone gathered around, sitting in the settee’s or on the rug by the fireplace. “Anyone care for brandy and a cigar?” Rossi asked. “Am I in a game of Clue?” Garcia looked around the room, “Where the hell is Miss Scarlet, I want to ask her some questions”. People snickered at her comments, she got more sarcastically funny as she got further intoxicated. “No seriously, would anyone like a drink?” Rossi stood by his sideboard bar, crystal decanters lined up with matching glasses. “Scotch, for me Dave, thank you” Hotch nodded. “I’ll take one of those as well” Emily smiled. “Not for me, I’m driving” Will grinned at JJ, hoping she would have another drink and let her hair down a little. You noticed this and nudged JJ in the side, “I brought more wine” You raised your eyebrows cheekily at her.

She looked long and hard into your eyes, really thinking over how hectic the headache was going to be in the morning. “Screw it” She mumbled, caving in to your devilish look, “Go get the wine” She lightly tapped your arm. “Oh no, come on y/n, I’ll go” Rossi offered. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way back or anything” You giggled, jumping up from the floor and heading towards the big arch way through to the foyer. “Hey, y/n!” Spencer stopped you in the doorway, “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” He asked in a soft tone. You nodded happily; it was an easy request.

“Hold on...” Hotch said quickly. They all stared at you again. “You can’t move” Hotch smiled gently, “You’re under the mistletoe”. Everyone laughed and gaped as Hotch caught you out under the mistletoe. “What do you mean I can’t move?” You laughed, as if this were a silly game. “In the Rossi house, if you pause under mistletoe and get caught out, you have to wait there until someone kisses you” Dave explained. Obviously Hotch had been caught before and was now pointing out Rossi’s next victim. “Who’s gonna do it?” Garcia looked intrigued, waiting for the war between them to begin while you stood there, knees shaking at the thought of having to kiss someone on the team. “Well, I’m out” Rossi said, having reconnected with an old lover recently. Will and JJ snuggled closer together, that was an obvious no. Hotch uncomfortably sat back into the settee, smiling cheekily into his glass.

A few faces turned to Morgan. “Hey now, that’s usually my style, but I’m seein’ somebody at the moment” Morgan shrugged, hoping Penelope wouldn’t pull him apart over the comment he made. Which inevitably, she did. “Can’t I just go to the kitchen, come on, this is silly” You spoke over them, they were discussing among them who should be the one to kiss you and set you free from the nasty grip of the mistletoe. “It’s gotta be Reid” Emily’s voice rang out over all of the incoherent babbling.

Spencer had been laughing and watching this unfold around him, blending into the leather settee like a chameleon. Now that the faces turned to him, he flushed red and he eyes grew wider. “Ha ha, you guys” Spencer tried to redirect, blushing madly “Emily, it’s you! You know it’s you” He laughed awkwardly. “It could be me; I just don’t really think that’s y/n’s speed... whereas you...” She let the rest of the team join in on the end. “Yeah I don’t think she swings that way” JJ looked back at Emily, shaking their heads together negatively. “Which leaves you Spencer, everyone else is attached at the moment” Hotch's voice seemed confident and firm, but had a hint of a giggle in it.

This started to seem like a set up to you, everyone was grimacing, smirking up at you. No one else tonight had been caught under mistletoe and there was no shortage of it in this house. You crossed your arms in front of you and lovingly glared back at each of them. “Come on Spence” JJ grabbed his knee and shook it, as if this provided some sort of moral support. “Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!” Penelope started a chant and within seconds, they had all joined in. “Okay! Okay, okay, you can stop doing that now. The peer pressure has worked” Spencer’s face couldn’t not smile. His cheeks tugged tightly at his lips, and though his face was red, he looked pleasantly excited. Reid stepped over JJ and slowly approached the door frame. He got closer to you, looked into your eyes, and pursed his lips, eyes widening as if to say, “This is weird”. He rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands awkwardly in his pockets. You remained still, one eyebrow raised in shock, arms still folded in front of you. “Come on pretty boy, we haven’t got all night” Morgan teased, Garcia gripping onto him, her eyes as wide as possible so she didn’t miss anything.

In an instant, he lunged forward, a hand landing on your cheek and one at the small of your back. Spencer planted his lips onto yours, you could almost feel him smiling into it. Your arms softened and untangled as they found their way onto his chest in front of you. As you parted, the embarrassing hail of whoops and clapping arose. Spencer stepped back giggling, hiding his face from his colleagues. You pursed your lips together and held your fingers to your lips briefly, surprised at how good that felt. “I��m gonna go grab that wine now” You blushed, laughing along with the hyenas in the sitting room. Pausing slowly at the fridge, your head hitting the metal, you exhaled from deep in your lungs. Never in your life did you think you would be in such a position. But you were happy and almost grateful for your embarrassing workmates.

You returned with the wine, rose coloring still in your cheeks. Spencer was now playing with the kids under one of the many Christmas trees and you retook your position on the rug with JJ and Will, pouring them both a glass of white wine. No one teased anymore, no one laughed. There were just separate pods of conversation. Eventually, after picking up sleepy children off the couches in the lounge room, JJ and Will were thanking Rossi for such a lovely evening. Hotch not far behind with Jack. Those that were left were Morgan and Penelope, desperately arguing over whether or not ‘Die Hard’ was a Christmas film. Rossi and Emily, who were debating finer Scotches and Whiskeys. You watched on, amused by their friendships, and longing to be one of them. Until you noticed that Spencer had gone. You got up from the rug and wondered through the house, finding him on the balcony off the dining room.

You unlatched the door, alerting him to your presence. “Hey” He smiled softly at you. “Hey” You sounded unsure, “I’m sorry if that was super weird for you in there”. He chuckled under his breath slightly as you approached and stood next to him in the cold night air. “You know, I thought it would be... But it was... nice” He nodded, tucking his smile into his scarf. You tried to look away, hiding the permanent smile plastered on your face. “It was nice” You said gently. Spencer turned towards you, and unintentionally looked you up and down, “You must be so cold” He said, shedding his coat and draping it across your shoulders. You looked at the soft brown tweed and curled your nose, “But now, you’ll be cold”. “Doesn’t matter” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Spencer I-” He interrupted quickly, “Can I have a do over?”. “Sorry, what?” You shook off whatever you were going to say and clarified you heard him correctly. “I just- I would have kissed you differently, had they not set me up and cheered like an audience” He closed his eyes, “ I would have kissed you differently”.

Without saying anything, you slid your icy cold hand into his. Warmth radiated from his large hands as his fingers slid between yours. You pulled his hand and turned him to face you. “You can kiss me again” You mumbled. His eyes were so dark and deep, he held eye contact with you, bringing his face slightly down to meet you in the middle. His soft lips, tripping over yours hungrily. His breath warm on your face. His tender hands, not so gingerly on respectful places on your body like before. One hand slid up to your neck, lightly holding on, but eventually wrapping around to grasp the back of your neck. His other hand placed further south of the small of your back, pulling your whole body into him as his tongue delved into your mouth. You tried to move your hands, you tried to do anything, but your brain was completely overwhelmed and stunned by the warmth and pleasure washing over you.

He pulled away, kissing your cold nose, along your jawline. Pressing on last kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Your body sunk into him. Even without his jacket, he was still so warm, and it was so inviting. You wrapped your arms around his back and held onto him as tightly as he held onto you. “This is a better Christmas story than the one I told before” You muttered at a giggle into his woolen jumper. Spencer smiled into the nape of your neck. “God, I hope so” He laughed, and you felt his whole body move against yours. After a while, you parted and just stood snuggled together on the balcony. “They really set us up, big time” You pondered. “I can’t believe Emily blabbed” Spencer shook his head. You looked sharply up at him. “Blabbed?” You asked confusedly. “Yeah... I kind of told her I had a crush on you” He tried to hide his face but you wouldn’t let him, you grabbed his hand and held it in your own. “Oh my god” That same old shocked expression was strewn back across your face. “I know, it’s super embarrassing and I’m sorry I didn’t -“ You interrupted him this time, “No, Spencer, I told Emily I had a crush on you” You said quickly, without thinking.

Both of you, stunned, really thought about how devious Emily was. Why did we do that? You asked yourself; the answer quite simply was, she was a very open person and people often told her their secrets. “I guess, I’m glad I told her” Spencer smiled, “Because otherwise I never would have got to kiss you”. You leaned up to his lips and kissed him again. “Now, you can kiss me anytime you want” You whispered to him, that gorgeous smile still fighting its way onto his face.

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Inside, Emily and Rossi stood in the doorway of the dining room, peering out onto the Balcony like a pair of sneaky teenagers. They had been watching for several minutes, and though they couldn’t hear the conversation, they knew they were busted for setting the whole thing up. “Thanks again, Dave” Em raised his glass of scotch to Dave’s brandy, both of them grinning like school girls. “Absolutely anytime, my dear” They clinked glasses and walked steadily back into the sitting room, arms around each other.

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siriwesen · 2 years

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It’s not a big deal - Chapter 6

TAZ Ethersea Fanfiction Chapter 6 - Graffiti Read it all on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34757878/chapters/87791377 The property of the church was massive. Compared to other places in Founder’s Wake, where only a few people owned consecutive strips of land, the church surely stood out. The fact that it pretty much had its own exit on the Crystal Ascension spoke volumes about its influence and wealth.

The foyer which Amber and Zoox had left was only a starting point which then continued to build up into units, further and further into large buildings connected either by external hallways or simply joined together directly at the walls. This patchwork of buildings formed a shape which loosely resembled a cathedral. Visitors were greeted by green lawns, which were pure decadence and also an element of a world long gone. Amber couldn’t help but wonder how they maintained these unused areas of grass - she could tell however that nobody ever walked on them. As Zoox and her reached the Crystal Ascension she did not hesitate any longer, and took her shoes off to have some good, hefty stomps on the grass.

It was odd, she hadn’t felt grass under her feet in years, and while she wanted to just disrespect the church with this gesture as much as possible, she could not help but feel infinite and pure childlike joy spark through her body. As she trampled and kneaded the grass with her feet, stomping and messing up the small spot of lawn proficiently, Deja-Vús of a long forgotten time passed by. She rarely spent time on reminiscing about the world beyond the water, but every now and then she just wondered. Had there been any way to just... stay up there and not drown? Had there been a way to prevent it all? And would she ever live to the day to witness civilisation resurface above the Ethersea?

“Well, Zoox, if y’wanna take a piss on this shitty garden, now’s your chance for the night.”, she said as she put her shoes back on. Security seemed to be absent from this area right now. “I-.. err.. what?”, sounding like she tore Zoox out of his thoughts. “I said, if you wanna take a piss, do it now, fuck the church. Anarchy!” Zoox did not seem to follow, but to be fair, she was not sure if Brinarr actually needed to ever urinate. As they walked through the gates of the church’s grounds, she shuffled through her Infinny Bag, until she finally found what she was looking for: a big, fat, black sharpie. After quickly checking all directions just to be sure that nobody else was around at this hour, she said “Hey Zoox, watch this!” The now newly created graffiti doodle on the outside walls consisted of two squiggly circles and a sort of long weirdly long, not quite oval shape placed between the circles. The drawing was about the size of all her hands combined.

Amber chuckled:“Loosers.” Zoox stared at Amber. Then at the drawing. “Why did you- OOOH I see! It’s a secret message for Devo, right? A sort of rune?” “What- no!” Amber crossed her spectral arms, as if she was insulted by Zoox not recognising what she had drawn. “It’s a dick! Y’know. Just... these folks forget to label themselbes properly, figured I’d help with that.” There was another awkward pause between them. “Because they’re dicks, Zoox! I swear, if I meet Guido ever outside of her stupid church, she’s gonna regret it.”

Zoox nodded, then suggested:“Should we go to Brother Seldom’s?”

“Nah- I think for today we better get nappin’. Been up all day, besides-” She gave the church a last disapproving look, before starting to walk towards the Ascension. “We need a plan. We better be fresh and boppin’ for what’s to come.”

#ethersea #taz ethersea #ethersea fanfiction #ethersea fanfic #its not a big deal #amber gris #zoox anthellae #zoox #posting chapter as a whole here because its short and fun #the zone cast #thezonecast

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 months

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This 1930 church conversion is weird and very expensive. It’s in Delray Beach, Florida and the description doesn’t list a number of bedrooms. Then, for baths, one description says it has 3.5ba and down farther on the page it says 7 partial baths. Anyway, it’s listed for $5.995M. But, here’s the kicker: The buyers would have to apply to get it rezoned for residential use, and CONVERT to their dreamhouse.The whole thing would have to be reconfigured. Check this out.

In the entrance foyer it looks like they have the original double doors and also the option of 2 glass doors.

The main room, which was the church, is a vast open space. They’ve given the home a tropical flair. The wood ceiling has a stain that makes it look like bamboo and they’ve replaced any church with tropical lanterns.

This is the where you would come in from the foyer, and they’ve set up double seating areas.

Against the back wall is more tropical decor, bu the room is an empty space and a blank canvas.

The stairs up to choir loft are so pretty with a tropical wallpaper.

On the 2nd level, in the choir loft, they’ve set up another sitting area.

I don’t know why, b/c they had plenty of room to make a full bath in here, they left the original 2 restrooms.

I would say that this has to be a bedroom b/c it has an en-suite, but what is that in the wall? It looks like a wine cooler.

This is the en-suite, but it’s so tiny, it’s not a full bath.

For $6M this is a small kitchen and it doesn’t even have a backsplash, nor do I see a cooktop or exhaust hood.

Here in the hall, they left a public water fountain. Do you really want that in a $6M home?

Delray Beach is expensive and desirable, but I’m just not thinking that this home is worth the price.

It’s large, so there must be at least 3 bds.

I thought that this could be a bedroom, but it’s actually an open area.

This is also an open room, too.

I don’t understand, how many sitting rooms does one need?

And, this is not a full bath and it’s still got the stalls. Who designed this place?

And, here we have, guess what, yet another sitting room. What is going on here?

This could be turned into a mansion. There’s plenty room, but to pay $6M and then have to redo the whole thing just doesn’t seem worth it.

https://www.redfin.com/FL/Delray-Beach/200-SE-7th-Ave-33483/home/185213928

#church conversion #houses #house tours #home tour

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thosequeenboys · 3 years

Text

The Way Old Friends Do (Queen)

Author’s note: This work is based on the ABBA Song of the same name. The story takes place New Year’s Eve, 1973 and New Year’s Eve, 1990. In addition to those Queen Boys, the story features Freddie’s devoted friend and personal assistant, Peter Freestone, aka Phoebe. Numbered text is referenced at the end. This piece was published in the Some Kind of Magic Fanzine. Wishing everyone a happy, healthy and easier!! New Year!

Kneeling before the fireplace framed in white marble, Freddie held the match under the log tower in the deep fire box. As it ignited before him, the flames warmed his soul and his weary body. He let the mesmerizing light transport him to the beginning, back to when they had big dreams, of creativity, of recognition. There they were in the reel playing in his mind, circa 1973, bumbling around the studio in the pre-dawn hours, perfecting takes. Streetlights streamed through the dirty curtains, and high heels clip clopped on the damp pavement outside the window.

One of Freddie’s many gifts was to synthesize – this drum lick, that riff, those voice overs. He was not the leader, he would adamantly claim over many years, but he fell naturally into the role of mediator when tensions erupted during those long nights. When terse exchanges invaded, Fred would ensure each boy felt heard and validated. A flurry of scenes passed through him, and he remembered each of his calming responses: “Roger has a point.” “Perfect Deacy, Dear, let’s give that a go.” “Lovely, try that softer, Brian.” The angry tension had evaporated; the outcome of his coaxed camaraderie was perfection.

Refocusing his eyes on the fire, Freddie became of aware of Phoebe silently setting up the etched champagne flutes on the bar at the back of the room and easing the chilled Dom Perignon into the silver ice bucket stand. Freddie rose slowly, returned the iron screen and made his way to the plush settee angled toward the fireplace, eager to continue that visit back in time. After so many years, Phoebe could tell when Freddie was engrossed in his own thoughts, creating - or lately, like tonight, reliving. The portly man finished his tasks, and before he left the room, he eyed his dear friend taking a seat to find the relief he needed.

Freddie blinked away the pain running through his bones and returned to the dancing fire. In it, he saw himself walking by the turntable gingerly so the album wouldn’t skip. His long hair fell into his face. The music blared from the speakers.

“Five minutes to Midnight. Let’s go!” Freddie implored, as he passed Brian and Roger lounging on opposite ends of the worn couch, their feet tangled together in the middle, and John, sitting cross-legged on the tattered easy chair, leafing through a stained magazine. Freddie ducked into the tiny kitchenette. He grabbed four mismatched glasses and the bottle of cheap champagne he bought earlier in the day. It would leave a sour aftertaste, no doubt. Fortunately, there was sufficient vodka for chasers.

“Absolutely not, Roger!” Brian’s voice rose with annoyance.

“C’mon, Brian,” Roger’s ire could not be missed.

“None of this. Not tonight,” Freddie chided, reentering the small sitting area. “It’s time to ring in the new year – And,” Freddie purred, as he uncorked and poured the champagne, “Celebrate the first album of the next band bound for greatness! Gather ‘round, boys.” Languidly the three band mates rose and took the filled glasses Freddie offered them.

“To Queen! To this successful year we bid farewell! -- and to the magnificence ahead in 1974 – and beyond!!” Freddie said, his mouth broadening with each word. “To Queen!” the boys echoed. Smiles were exchanged as they raised their glasses and sipped in unison. “This stuff is bloody awful, Fred,” Roger cackled, a look of disgust overtaking him. The boys’ laughter accompanied the church bells pealing outside the small flat, signaling the arrival of the new year.

Freddie chuckled thinking of that night so long ago, amazed that it was still as clear as the crystal glasses glistening behind him. He dropped his head to his chest, and the image vanished.

Over the years the crowds grew, their creativity blossomed, and fame erupted, the extent of which they couldn’t have imagined. Though they all worked as a team and each had immense gifts, Freddie stood at the center of their evolution, which seemed limitless. Each year presented many milestones to toast. Yet, the glory left in its wake an underside that swept him up and spit him out. But at night on stage, Freddie rose -- a force buoyed by powerful lights above him, screaming crowds before him, the music surrounding him and those boys behind him. The spotlights showcased his immense talent and power to engage the audience, building a crescendo of rapture. There were two sides, but the boys were always there as the reminder of who he truly was: an innovator, a creator, a collaborator, a musical genius -- and a loving, gentle, generous and witty friend.

Freddie scanned the room and took in the paintings and unique artifacts he collected during decades of travel. Each had a story; each brought him joy. Suddenly aware of the evening’s ritual, he glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. Any minute now. And as if prompted by Freddie’s notice, voices reverberated off the brick outside the window as car doors slammed.

Pressing his arms into the firm cushion, Freddie stood carefully, gaining his balance. He turned his attention to the entry foyer in the distance where Phoebe offered warm greetings and efficiently took coats, knowing this visit was limited as family parties awaited. Phoebe gestured to the living room, and the boys stepped in, taking in the slight figure bathed in faint firelight before them.

The fire was now blue-framed blushes of orange poking out from blackening logs. Freddie stepped forward to tend to it. “Here, Fred,” Brian said, taking long strides across the expansive room to the fire. “Let me.” Roger quickly sidled up to the other side of the fireplace and silently removed the screen. Brian repositioned the burning logs to spark the flames and added a new one from the large Chinese porcelain jar painted with orange and blue dragons next to the fireplace.

Freddie felt John staring at him and suddenly the younger man looked away, blinking. Were the cheekbones so hollow a month ago, he wondered, as the fire cast a shadow in the deep crevice of Freddie’s cheek. In that moment he knew. “This is the last one,” John said to himself, feeling tears forming. Surprised that he allowed this thought, John quickly regained his composure and looked at Freddie. A shy smile of admiration crept onto his face, and Freddie returned a warm grin.

“Beautiful!” Fred said turning to the fire, now bestowed with new life. If only there could be a comparable easy fix. He made his way to the back of the room, the boys in tow. “Gather ‘round, boys,” Freddie encouraged. Between each pour, he wiped the bottle’s rim with the soft towel Phoebe had draped over the bucket.

“Hasn’t been such a bad year,” Roger said in his sincere, optimistic way. The other boys nodded, hoping Roger would supply a litany of cheerful highlights to overshadow the glaring contradiction standing in front of them serving champagne.

“Hey, we got the BRIT Award for Outstanding Contribution to Music. Finally! And Innuendo is fantastic! Should do very well,” Roger affirmed confidently, as the glasses were passed.

“A toast!” Brian raised his glass. “To this successful year we bid farewell!” He looked down, not sure what to add, where to go. The other three boys joined him comfortably in the silence, for it was wrapped with the joys and sorrows and hopes of decades past, unspoken comfort and their unconditional bond of friendship.

“To fairy tales of yesterday that grow but never die,” (1) John added. The boys exchanged glances nodding, and clinked their glasses.

“To carrying on,” Freddie said firmly, breaking the wistfulness.

“To carrying on!” The boys echoed, trying not to sound somber, though they knew that carrying on meant until the end -- and beyond, concepts presently unfathomable.

“Glad you got the good stuff,” Roger said, raising his nose in the air satisfied, as he laughed and held his glass up to the light.

“I always aim to keep you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed,” Freddie quipped. They laughed in agreement. “The manner that you all deserve,” Freddie added. Freddie’s smile evaporated and he looked down. “The best.” Horns and bells sounded outside, along with the cheers from Freddie’s sitting room down the hall.

The boys finished their drinks and set down their glasses. They huddled together closely around Freddie. Strong hands with long, graceful fingers rubbed backs and grazed knuckles. Loving hands. Musical hands. They bent forward in their circle, holding each other just a bit tighter, and their heads touched.

I don't care what comes tomorrow. We can face it together. The way old friends do. (2)

Notes

1. The Show Must Go On by Queen

2. The Way Old Friends Do by ABBA

#queen band #queen fandom #queen fan fic #queen fan fiction #Brian May #roger taylor #freddie mercury #queen fanzine #bffs #70s music #80s music #90s music #new years eve #happy new 2021 #happy new year #new year celebration #John Deacon

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement

Part 18

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, social anxiety, some fluff in there, I think that’s everything.

Word Count: 2219

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

You don't really remember the rest of the flight into California. You slept pretty successfully most of the way,which surprised you a great deal, seeing as you were so nervous about flying to begin with; but the combined nervousness, and lack of sleep last night because of said nervousness, helped you drift off nuzzled safely in Jensen's arms, and knock out without much of an issue.

Jensen gently shook you awake after the plane had landed and was now holding your hand as he guided you through the airport toward the car that was waiting for you all.

Clif was gracious enough to get everyone's bags and things, so that you all could go hide in the car, safely away from fans. No one wanted to get the fandom's hopes up about a reboot, just in the event that it didn't happen; and every time Jensen and Jared were seen together there was a fresh waive or rumors concerning the return of the show.

You couldn't wrap your head around the way people seemed to flock to them, stalk them, and follow them around to no end. Sitting on the computer for days, looking for a sighting of them.

Jensen had been slowly introducing you into this lifestyle of being married to someone like him. He'd been taking you on dates and things close to home, and you knew it was only a matter of time before someone posted your picture online, and everyone learned your name. Jensen knew that as well, so he'd been slowly teaching you how to deal with all this madness.

Today, the fans got a picture with you at the airport, so you assumed by now that everyone in the fandom was speculating, and trying to tear you apart bit by bit. That's one reason why you didn't have social media, even though Jensen didn’t mind if you had it or not. He really didn't care for it, but it was necessary because of his line of work, advertising and what not.

You just didn’t want to see it. All the rumors and things that were bound to circulate about you. The way the two of you married wasn’t exactly “normal”, well for most American’s anyway, and you were sure people would still favor his ex wife over you ,even though she was the one that cheated on him.

No one tried to approach as all of you made your way to the car, while Clif gathered up everyone’s things, and you were grateful for that. You had enough of ‘being out in the wild’ as Jared called it.

Jensen's phone beeped and he pulled it from his pocket, looking down at it. Your heart started to hammer in your chest at an alarming rate.Was he already getting flack about being married to you? Would the fandom convince him that he should leave you?

"Looks like they got our rooms ready for us. All Clif has to do is pick up our keys, and we can go straight there. They said the meeting isn't until tomorrow. So we got today to rest up before the crazy starts."

You sat there looking up at him. His arm wrapped around you the best that he could in the car. 'Before the crazy starts.' What did he mean by that?

"Oh yeah," Jared said, shaking his head like he was amused at Jensen's lack of enthusiasm. "You know tomorrow will be long. Sitting in a room all day, trying to make everyone happy and meet everyone's demands before the show comes back."

Jensen just hummed in agreement, looking out the window as Clif pulled the car off toward the main road, dodging people as he went.

Jensen's phone went off again and he laughed a little before silencing it.

"Looks like Y/N has made quite the impression on the cast already. Felicia, Brianna, Rob, and Richard want us to all meet them for dinner tonight so they can meet her." he said to Jared with what you thought may have been a proud smirk, but you weren't so sure.

Your heart jumped up in your chest, and you quickly looked down at your lap so that he couldn’t see how nervous you were. Of course he saw right through you. He'd learned your every move. The man was more observant than you gave him credit for.

Squeezing you tighter to him, he puts a light peak on your forehead. "It's okay baby girl, they will love you."

You half smiled at him and snuggled yourself into his side, thankful for the bucket seats in the back of the SUV. He calms you, even when you feel like everything is raging against you. His warmth, his smell, the way you can lightly hear his heartbeat through his chest keeps you grounded when nothing else seems to be able to.

California was so different than what you had expected it to be. There seemed to be people everywhere. Everything was so bright all the time. The weather was warm, maybe even warmer than Texas, and it was December. Everything seemed a little more free here.

Upon arrival at the hotel, Clif ran and grabbed everyone's key cards, and once we were all settled into our rooms with little difficulty Jensen came and wrapped his arms around you.

"How are you doing sweetheart? Are you okay today?"

Letting him surround you with his strong arms, and pull you into his chest, you close your eyes and just let him hold you in that moment. You were tired, that was for sure, even though you had slept on the plane. You were stressed.Things were about to change, and the last time things changed a great deal for you, let's be honest, you lost a lot, and your mind felt like it just couldn't keep up with it all. Then there was this dinner thing tonight.

"I’m okay. Jensen, Do you really think this whole meeting your friends for dinner thing and bringing me along is a good idea? I mean, Jared still isn't my biggest fan. What if they all hate me too?"

Jensen placed his forehead on top of yours, making you look him in the eyes.

"Baby, everything is going to be fine. Jared is coming around. Don't worry about him, and as far as everyone else, they aren't as protective over me as Jared is. So don't worry. Everything will be just fine."

Jensen didn't seem nervous, even though you felt like you wanted to jump out of your skin. Looking down at yourself as he pulled away from you for a moment, you decided that maybe a shower and fixing yourself up a little bit wouldn't hurt. Fans may be out and about, and people knew what you looked like now. So going to the restaurant looking like a hobo wasn't really the best idea probably.

"I'm going to go take a shower, and get ready for tonight." you tell him quietly. He nods, giving you a little bit of space and time to yourself.

"Okay, I'm going to go call them and see where we all are meeting, and what time they want to meet up. I don't want to be out too late, I want to have some alone time with you tonight."

------------------------------------------------

Less than three hours later you found yourself with Jensen sliding his hand in yours as the elevator descended to the bottom floor of the hotel. Jensen said the restaurant that all of you were eating at was walking distance from where you were staying, and you two should be fine just walking, that Jared was going to walk with the two of you as well.

You physically trembled with nerves, but you said nothing, just clung to Jensen's hand like if you let go you'd die.

"Everything is going to be fine Y/N.We've been married now for a while, they're going to love you. We've got a private table in the back of the restaurant, so fans won't be a problem. This is California, so they're used to seeing people like us in the area. Walking there isn't going to be an issue. Just relax baby." he said, bending down and kissing your lips lightly as the elevator came to a stop, pulling away just before the doors opened.

You could already see Jared standing in the foyer of the hotel, looking around at the different flyers and things that were set up for tourists. He towered a good head and shoulders over most people in the building, so it wasn't like he was hard to spot.

The walk to the little place that was something like a sports bar was only about three blocks up from the hotel.just as Jensen said.here was no one that even gave the three of you a second look. Jensen and Jared made fun of each other and anyone they saw along the way, laughing and joking like two teenage boys, rather than two grown ass men.

Once inside the place, the hostess took you to the back of the place and seated you in a room where everyone was already waiting. The little room was completely concealed from the rest of the restaurant. Felica, Briana, Rob, and Richard all yelled their greeting as the three of you came into the room. They were like a bunch of kids that hadn't seen each other for a long time, each one getting up to greet the boys individually.

"Jen, is this your wife?" the blonde woman you knew to be Briana from watching the con videos, said. You didn't realize you were hiding slightly behind him until you noticed that she had to lean around Jensen to come face to face with you.

"Yeah, everyone this is Y/N. Y/N this is Rob, Richard, Briana, and Felica."

They all greeted you warmly, but kept their distance, almost scensing you were nervous. Was it that obvious?

"Y/N a little shy guys, she's not used to all this, this all new to her." Jensen said, squeezing you tightly and planting a kiss on top of your forehead as he guided you around the table, sitting you next to Felica, before taking a seat on the other side of you.

"So you guys ready for tomorrow?" Rob asked Jensen.The two of them dove into speculation and theories as to what was going to be brought to the table tomorrow. You sat there quietly as you watched all of them talk about things that were above your head. That went on for most of the dinner, only really breaking from their casual flowing conversation as the orders were taken and food was brought. You couldn't help but feel awkward, because you had nothing to interject into the conversation, then you couldn't help but be glad you didn't have to talk.You were a complicated creature.

"Y/N, how are you liking being married to Jensen?" Felica asked, leaning over and talking quietly as the boys were joking and making bets on if they would get this or that if they agreed to come back. Briana leaned into the conversation as well now, interested to hear what you were going to say.

"It's great! Jensen is wonderful." You really didn't know what to say.

In all honesty even though you and Jensen had been married for months, you really were just now starting to get to know each other, and getting comfortable with each other.

"I know that you guys didn't come by marriage the conventional way, but I can tell you this, the man is head over heels for you." Briana said, taking a swig of her drink, looking at you more like a motherly figure than probably should have been allowed at this table of over grown adult children.

You smiled tightly and nodded, not really responding as you looked back down at your hands folded in your lap.

The conversation carried on from there with them getting to know you a little more as the men acted... well, like themselves.

It was finally time for the night to come to a close, and everyone stood and said their goodbyes. You were just about to walk out of the room with Jensen, when Briana yelled at you over the guys heads, running up to grab your arm.

"Felicia and I can't go to the meeting in the morning. Our isn't until tomorrow. Let's go get our nails done while we wait for the guys to come back and tell us the news!!!"

"Yes let's do it!" Felica interjected before you could get a word in.

"Well it's settled, two against one, we will pick you tomorrow Y/N!!" Briana said, grabbing her coat, kissing Jensen on the check and running off. You just stood there blinking for a moment. More social interaction. Great!!

"You will get used to her." Felica said, laughing as Jared grabbed her hat and took off running with it toward the street, and she chased after him yelling profanities, and laughing.

Jensen laughed by your side, slipping his arm around you. You looked up at him, just watching him as he interacted with his old cast mates. He looked years younger around his friends when he finally let himself go. You couldn't deny him this opportunity to be around everyone again, and if they decided to bring the show back, seeing him like this was worth the fear.

You only hoped one day he'd laugh with you like that.

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Tag List: @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles series #jensen x you #jensen x reader #jensen series #jensen fanfiction #dean winchester #x reader inserts #jawritter #jawritter 1k celebration

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jeremystrele · 3 years

Text

A Designer’s 1970s Bells Beach Dream Home!

Homes

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

Artwork in the background is ‘Checked Square’ by Jacob Leary. ‘Tufty-Too’ modular sofa from B&B Italia, designed in 2011 by Patrizia Urquiola. 1970s Italian chrome and glass coffee table. 1957 Saarinen ‘Tulip’ side table. Rug from RC&D. Vintage Italian chair in Mongolian wool dyed blue. Recycled French oak coffee table designed and build by Leo. Alfredo Barbini Murano Italian art glass dish. ‘Vesuvius’ lava glaze bowl by Jonhathan Adler. Hand-woven cotton light pendant from Paris au mois d’aout. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

The lush entry foyer. ‘Planula’ dining chairs by Giovanni Carini, 1970. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Interior designer Léo Terrando; and model, actor and a producer Jessica Watts. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Artwork in the background is ‘Checked Square’ by Jacob Leary. ·’Tufty-Too’ modular sofa from B&B Italia, designed in 2011 by Patrizia Urquiola. 1970s Italian chrome and glass coffee table. 1957 Saarinen ‘Tulip’ side table. Rug from RC&D. Vintage Italian chair in Mongolian wool dyed blue. Recycled French oak coffee table designed and build by Leo. Alfredo Barbini Murano Italian art glass dish. ‘Vesuvius’ lava glaze bowl by Jonhathan Adler. Hand-woven cotton light pendant from Paris au mois d’aout. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Artwork is ‘Act 1 Scene 2’ by Deidre Bruhn. 1959 Verner Panton wire cone chair. Mimi Kelly untitled print. Green Gaudi chairs by Vico Magistretti for Artemide, 1970s. ‘Four’ dining table Desk from Kartell designed by Feruccio Laviani. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

1970s Cristalart mirrored console table. Charles and Ray Eames executive table for Hermann Miller with Arabescatto marble top. Limited edition 1974 ‘Monk’ chairs by Afra and Tobia Scarpa for Molteni. 1962 ‘Arco’ floor lamp by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni for Flos. Zac Koukoravas artwork. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Dulux ‘Milton Moon‘ paint. Charles and Ray Eames executive table for Hermann Miller with Arabescatto marble top. Limited edition 1974 ‘Monk’ chairs by Afra and Tobia Scarpa for Molteni. 1962 ‘Arco’ floor lamp by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni for Flos. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Volkswagen Kombi 1977. Framed photograph Leo took inside the escalator of the Centre George Pompidou in Paris beside his surfboards. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Kartell ‘Ghost stools. Mayday lamps by Kanstantin Grcic for Flos. Dulux Klute, Dulux Luck and Dulux Vivid White paints. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Danish high sideboard. 1970s Italian table lamp. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Early 1900s church pew·. Moroccan rug. ‘TOIO’ floor lamp designed in 1962 by Achille & Pier Giacomo Castiglioni for Flos. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Mid-century Australian credenza that Leo found at the tip. Ceramic from west Germany. Laurana Rame D’arte Italian copper enamel bowl 1960. Mid-century modern Italian ‘Selenova’ table lamp in murano glass. Collection of 1960s clear glass Czech vases. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Java Couple sculptures. 1950s French mirror. Jielde Floor Lamp Loft D 1240 from Flos. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Rug from RC&D. Red lacquered metal frame ‘Vanessa’ bed designed by Tobia Scarpa for Cassina. Chrome and glass Italian coffee table. ‘Brumbury’ table lamp by Luigi Massoni for Guzzini. Original ‘Mushroom’ armchair by Pierre Paulin for Artifort. Artwork ‘Difficult Pleasure’ by Brett Ferry. Cedar cladding on walls. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Jess with the couple’s dog, Button. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Jess, Léo and Button! Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

The awe-inspiring view out to Bells Beach. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

It really feels like we are living in the middle of the forest,’ says Léo. Photo – Nikole Ramsay for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Interior designer Léo Terrando purchased this incredible Bells Beach house (on Victoria’s Surf Coast) 10 years ago, which he shares with partner Jessica Watts.

Believed to have been designed by acclaimed architect Kevin Borland in 1975, the house is characterised by vaulted timber ceilings that bring warmth and a distinctly eclectic character to its otherwise beachy feel.

‘The structural timber is entirely exposed and it follows the origami shape of the house, which means that the lighting – either natural or artificial – creates so many different contrasts and shadows,’ Léo says.

Léo was taken with the property’s unique design, as well as its awe-inspiring location set back from famous Bells Beach. ‘I love the fact that the house is away from everything,’ he says. ‘Being able to see the ocean from the house as well as hearing all the birds living in the area is truly magical.’

Not interested in stripping the home of its original character, Léo has undertaken only modest renovations over the past decade. ‘Internally I removed some walls in the upstairs bedroom and got rid of the carpet,’ he says.’

Other updates have been cosmetic only, such as updating the lighting fixtures throughout the home. ‘The lighting is so important for me, I have brought in so many different styles and types of lights, lamps, shades, from all different designers and eras,’ Léo says.

The home has also been painted inside and out, in colours including Dulux Milton Moon (in the living and dining room) with Dulux Klute, Dulux Luck and Dulux Vivid White in the kitchen and skirtings throughout.

The house has been a challenge to furnish due to its many windows – over 50 in total! To overcome this, and to balance out the extensive timber panelling, Léo has styled the space with an eclectic mix of free-standing furniture, and large indoor plants. Most of the furniture and accessories are 1960s and ‘70s Italian pieces, and alongside these are personal items that show off the couple’s personality, such as surfboards and bold, abstract artwork.

Overall this home feels effortlessly cool, relaxed and unpretentious – just like its Bells Beach location. Léo says, ‘Waking up to kangaroos, wallabies, wombats, and echidnas… It really feels like we are living in the middle of the forest.’ Living the dream!

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spencergray · 3 years

Text

A Vision in Lavendar

I was just completing the 8th grade at Arnold Grammar School. In sports, I had played basketball, and was the starting guard along with Buster Brown. We won the City school championship beating Templeton Hill. At the end of the school year (sometime in May, I think) the school had a banquet for the team. It was held in the school cafeteria and included dinner and certain ceremonies including awarding of letters, etc.

I’m Number 9 in the picture…front row right.

We were told we could bring a date to the banquet. Thinking about who I might take, the one who came to mind was a girl that attended my church (First Baptist), a year ahead of me, a freshman in high school. Her name was Ann Pirkle. Her mother was a friend of my parents. Ann sang in the choir and I can remember sitting in the balcony and gazing down at her, hoping she would look up, see me and like me. But, I never caught her eye.

Somehow, I managed to get up the courage to ask Ann to go with me. Don’t know how long I sat on the stairwell looking at the telephone trying to think what to say. But, I did call her and much to my surprise, she agreed to the date. Holy Cow! I couldn’t believe it.

On the day of the banquet which I think was to start at 6PM, my dad picked up an orchid corsage for me to present her. My first formal. I had never done this before!!

It was 8 city blocks from my house to the school and a further 6 blocks to Ann’s house on Highland Avenue. I set out and walked, carefully carrying the corsage to her house all dressed in my nice navy blazer, tan slacks, white button down shirt and tie.

When I arrived, I walked up the steps onto the porch and rang the bell. Her mother (whom I, of course, knew) answered and bid me come in to fetch Ann. As I was standing in the foyer talking with Mrs. Pirkle, Ann came down the staircase towards us. Wow! She was wearing a tailored lavender suit which framed her pale complexion and jet black hair which she wore in a page boy cut. Truly a Vision in Lavender. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I was in love!!!!!!

As it happened, I tried pinning the corsage to her lapel, but was all thumbs and could do nothing. Fortunately, her mother took over for me and accomplished the task straight away. Then, we bid her adieu and set out for the banquet at school a short 6 blocks away.

We chit chatted along as we walked and I was on top of the world. To this day, I have no recollection of what we said the whole night.

When we entered the school banquet hall, the principal, Mr. Bower, came over to greet us, welcoming Ann back as she had graduated from there the year before. Needless to say, the entire banquet was a blur. I do remember getting my athletic letter, and, I believe we received a miniature basketball fob for a key chain. And, I remember some ofl the other guys and girls could not get over me having that beautiful girl, a high school freshman on my arm. Boy, was I proud.

After the banquet, she and I walked into town to the Princess movie theatre. The advantage of a small town (at that time I believe the town had a population of about 30,000) was that it was “walkable”. Most of the downtown business area was comprised of about 8 blocks by 6 blocks. Within easy walking distance of most city residents.

Again, I’ve no idea of what movie we watched. I only remember putting my arm around her and holding hands. I was in heaven. Remember, this was my first “real” date.

Afterward, we strolled back to her house. When we went up the steps and got to the door, she said what a good time she had and I said I did as well and could we go out again. “Yes”, she said, “of course”. And with that, she leaned up to me and kissed me. I put my arms around her and kissed her back. Then, we parted and she slipped into the house. I stumbled down the steps in a daze in which I continued all the way home.

What an evening. It was a dream come true. And, I thought I was in love.

Sadly though, I never called her, nor dated her again. And, I’m not sure why, exactly. Well, actually, she began dating a tough dude who was also a friend, Tresley Geren so I wasn’t going there. But, I can never forget that warm night in May and the Vision in Lavender. To this day, in my mind’s eye, I can see her standing on the staircase as though it were a portrait.

And, so it goes..........

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