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pogueswrld · 8 months

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*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

#fred weasley #weasley twins #bill weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #plus sized reader #harry potter #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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rainfall-istrue-3130 · 2 years

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wip: new journalism style work

plot: a journalist investigates a city where people throw themselves off of buildings.

tw: expect substance abuse, death, violence, depersonalization and other things.

this may be chapter one or i may never finish it. who knows lmao

The Reason Why A City Falls

"It was a dark and stormy night" is what I would say if I was one of those pretentious pricks thinking their shitty manuscripts will make them the next George R. R. Martin. I sit in my chair, a Le Corbusier one acquired from some dead millionaire's estate a few years back (2008? 2009? I forget), under the haze of the sunset. So many people all going out, to their bars or restaurants or malls or whatever else you can think of. Strip clubs? Probably strip clubs. A glass of Louis XIII cognac at my desk (I'm not one of those cheap fucks with the bottom shelf shit) and an e-mail at my computer. Al's been starving for things to cover in a while, and I figured I'd give the two of us something to do in the meantime. Some guy named Derek told me about some city where rich fuckers were throwing themselves off of high-rises repeatedly.

Jesus fuck. I couldn't care less since it was rich people dying but it was a hell of a set-up.

I had to sift through the spam mail telling me about penis enlargement pills- if I even felt the slightest bit conscious about that, I'd have clicked on it faster than Al can snort a full line on a bad Saturday afternoon with a cam girl's stream somewhere in the living room -and bank account details being stolen- I don't have a bank account, too many people spying on my purchasing habits -before landing on this one. The email read as follows, and as I read it, I was convinced Derek was another one of the mindless robot army sent to infiltrate my home and tap on my phone signal:

Saint, I have a story for you.

People are dying in my city, and no one cares.

I live in a high-rise condo in a rich part of Macau. Every day, I wake up and get to work, and in the afternoons I head to the casinos. I usually head off at 2 or 3 in the ass-crack of the night.

Every time when I wake up, there's a new three or four or five dead bodies around my car. Rich types. Socialites on Instagram, or entrepreneurial folks who I've made business deals with two or three nights before. They always look like they've jumped off the building. I know that it sounds crazy, but I know that normally, you'd only get no or one crazy motherfucker who jumps off to escape their own goddamn nightmare.

I know I'm not the only one since my neighbor Carrie has also seen it happen. I've called the police, the media, no one seems to care. I feel like I'm having a collective psychotic break from reality. If this doesn't get solved quick, I might just follow them myself. Like lemmings off a cliff. I saw one of them and stared them in the eye as they fell.

Fucking HELP ME HERE.

Derek

This shit sounds too good to be true. Just outlandish enough that I'd call it bullshit, but then there's always the littlest crumb of what the charred corpse of truth is to make me doubt it.

When I woke up, I was at the boarding gate in LaGuardia with a $12 soda, a Whopper, and nasty withdrawal symptoms. Al told me that after waking up from a 5-hour nap, I took enough Xanax to knock out a train station full of managerial pieces of shit. Hated those people- I was one of them for a while until my coworker stabbed me in the back and got me fired. She's dead now, that poor bastard couldn't lay off the acid until it fried her brain. Didn't last much longer than that.

The wait for the plane was torture. Couldn't bring the ketamine tablets I ordered 6 months ago on the plane. Someone to the side of me told me to stop shaking my legs. He looked like a man who would come home to beat his wife and children before drinking himself to death like his family tree would. I got up and left, or at least tried to before stumbling and collapsing on the airport floor. Some lady came to assist. She looked like that one girl from all the Verizon ads. I told her I'd be fine and crawled to a chair. Al had been following me this entire time too. Good man, but he's got his vices. Husband of 5 years left him after something happened that he refuses to explain. Pretty sure it was ordering male hookers from some sketchy site and having his credit card info stolen. I haven't seen him smile once in my decade of working with him.

I got on the plane a few hours later. After having seen "Snakes On A Plane" at the request of my cousin Damien while baked off of all the marijuana in a six-mile radius at a dying AMC theatre in a bucket hat I purchased from some street vendor in Indonesia, I now see every single flight attendant as Julianna Marguiles. Either her, or Britney Spears. The plane was full somehow, maybe because of all the offers for jackpots and hot women serving you at the poker tables. Attracts the scum of the earth. I got the aisle seat next to some business lady who had no business being there, I could tell you that much. Visually, she recalled the looks of a post-rehab Lindsay Lohan if Lindsay Lohan relapsed and started smoking crack instead of heroin. I was heading to a pilgrimage of avarice and hedonism, and this ride to Macau would be the first step in turning me into a believer in the holy church of the roulette wheel. After this was over, would it be so unbelievable to tell you that half of these pieces of shit riding this plane with me would end up dead on the ground? Normally if I wanted to satisfy the addict within me, I'd either turn to the mountain of snow from a Colombian kingpin who I'm 67% sure is dead now, or take a 4-hour plane ride to Las Vegas, get lost in the lights and sounds, lose half a million at the blackjack tables, and wake up in a county jail in Reno with charges of disorderly conduct, driving while intoxicated, and vehicular manslaughter up to my chest. Fuck you, Travis, you passed this shit on to me when you had to leave.

Cathay Pacific is the best airline. It's the only one where I don't feel like I'm being sold the next few weeks ahead of me like Qatar Airways or Emirates do. Those airlines are drowning in advertising and fake luxury to try and upsell me on a trip to Riyadh or Abu Dhabi or Doha. Hate those places, never felt welcome among the pious Muslims and the "righteous" diplomats who I'm sure have a van of dead children to kick and cum into. Not me, I've been to a few of those parties, and it always ends with half of the country knowing your name as you're led into a labor camp in the name of Allah. And so deceptive about it too. I've never seen a place so committed to presenting itself as the technological nexus of the world while at the same time being so culturally backwards that the Middle East became a literal minefield. Half of the country is foreigners who don't give a fuck about morality and are in it for the money, the other half are residents who care enough about Islam they are willing to die for it. All under a regime that proclaims itself the next generation of leaders, when really it's planting a face of technological advancement on top of the same backwards bullshit over and over again. And everyone falls for it every time. Always. A modern-day parody of the hyperreality we live in now in the 21st century. If Baudrillard could see what the world's become, he'd be rolling in his grave faster than Al after overdosing on some new drug he found in a dingy alley behind a sketchy recording studio in Atlanta.

I would much rather stick to Hong Kong and China in general, at least here I have a few friends in the mafia. Deep cover, some of them, others are actual mobsters. I've seen enough guns to massacre a stadium of football fans on a given night during the World Cup, but I at least have people to make sure I'm not the one getting shot this time. Oh, and also the service is good, and the ride is smooth and comfy, but I don't give a fuck about that.

I'm in Hong Kong now. It'll be a few hours' taxi ride to get to Macau, and even from here I see the corpses of people who seem to have given up. Birds colliding with windows, it looks like, but replace the birds with people in tax brackets unfathomable to the average layman and windows with the concrete pavement. The city's hot at nights like this, and maybe this is the molly talking, but it's beautiful in a tragic- no, mysterious- no, haunting sort of way. For tonight, I'm willing to endure the cold sweats and hot flashes without Special K here to be my twisted muse.

Sleep doesn't come easy anymore. Not after the- when was it, 7? No, too long, 5? No, let’s go with 6 -incident six years ago. The bar was full of the kinds of meth addicts, domestic abusers and mob fixers that raise neck hairs, extend foreskins and draw sweat from pores. Any of these men and women had all the reason to see me as a headline in a local newspaper by some slimy tabloid whose articles and writers spit on the face and name of journalism, those disgusting pricks. Their stares dug into the back of my skull, their grips on their handshakes reminded me of vices in a mechanic's shop in Chihuahua, and their friendly voices reminded me of my editor Griffin, who would put on a similar tone of voice whenever he sent me a copy of my manuscript to publish in TMZ, sanitized of all that could be seen as "deplorable."

Maybe it's the residual gunshot wound in my abdomen that brought me to near death, or the cracked vertebrae in my chest, the kind that makes breathing a harder chore than cleaning the room of a rapist covered in semen and vomit, or the nightmares of that mascara-infested whore who thought I had slipped something in her drink before giving me glass shards of a Long Island Iced Tea, vomiting nightmarish wails and euphoric moans, before consuming a balding Bill Clinton in front of me as I wake up in a cold sweat, my erection slowly rising and my confidence slowly inching away from my mescaline-infused eyeballs as I come to the realization that I will never escape this hell I've made for myself, but I rarely go to bars like I used to. Those seedy establishments that charge 500% markup on middle of the road whisky and charge extra for a gin martini. The sad Italian testis in the glass surrounded by salt, as if to ward off a demon from entering my body, bathed in what can only be described as two peasant beverages that have been mixed with a toothpick, and I had already drank two before my contact arrived in Hong Kong, wearing what is generously called a "mob boss" outfit, his black and lilac fedora and black tie outlining his look. He had an air of uncertainty around him, as if even he didn't know whether what he was doing was strange or unusual. His mouth was firmly in a straight line, yet his eyes bore the look of terror. Sauntering over to me like a 50 year old father saunters over to his barely adult daughter after hearing about her getting arrested for drunk driving, he sat on the stool next to mine. As the scarred bartender continued cleaning the glasses that would inevitably be stained with grenadine, blood and lipstick the next day, this man Derek would tell me something I- if I ever had children after forgetting to perform a vasectomy on myself -would retell to them in 30 years.

#writing #spilled ink

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padmavathitravelstnagar · 2 years

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BEST CAR RENTALS IN CHENNAI

Chennai Local Sightseeings Tour Packages and chennai local car rental is provided at best price, Padmavathi Travels extended our Travel service to each places in chennai with good and well esperienced Driver. we assure for the best one day chennai trip package.

Our one day Chennai Local Sightseeing tour by private car crams in the iconic landmarks of the city. Get immersed in South Indian culture with the visit to the famous temples situated in the city. Beaches are the prime attractions in Chennai and are always crowded with a big number of tourists.

Your amazing tour begins with the visit to the historic site of Fort St. George. Proceed further to the glorious Kapaleeshwar Temple that is associated with several legendary stories.

Worship Lord Krishna enshrined in the renowned Parthasarathy Temple. Visit the fabulous Marina Beach and enjoy the views of the wonderful waves hitting the coastline. Learn about the art and culture from the Pallava period till date with a walk through the Government Museum and pay your homage to the eminent Tamil poet Valluvar at the Valluvar Kottam.

1.FORT ST.GEORGE

Plan to Depart by : 9:45 AM

Must See / Things to Do:The 14.5 tall statue of Lord Cornwallis brought from Britain with the carvings depicting Tipu Sultan and his two sons

Timings: 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM

Holiday / Closed on: Friday

Entry Fee: Indians: Rs. 5/- per person || Foreign Tourists: Rs. 100/- per person

Take an excursion back to the British ruling period with the visit to the first stop over of our exciting one day Chennai local sightseeing tour by private cab. Stroll through the celebrated Fort St. George dedicated to the Patron Saint of England, Saint George. Fort played a strategic role in the growth of British trading since its construction in 1644.

Well maintained by the Archaeological Survey of India, the Fort is divided as St. Mary’s Church and Fort Museum. An inspiring Fort Museum introduces you to the colonial British era showcasing the relics of the British ruling period. Gaze at the letters written by renowned personnel called Robert Clive and Lord Cornwallis. It also preserves the first ever flown Indian flag post our Independence.

St. Mary’s Church is one of the oldest Anglican Church constructed by the Britishers in India. The church is also called as Westminster Abbey of the East and stands as an outstanding reminder of the British rule in India. History enthusiasts would be pleased viewing the 150 feet flagstaff made of teakwood. Fort built at a cost of £3000 was attacked by the French and later by Sultan Haider Ali. Fort had two divisions with the White town dwelled by the Europeans and the English while the Black town where the dock workers stayed along with the locals. It accommodates impressive structure called the Wellesley House named after the former Governor General of India. It houses the Tamil Nadu legislative assembly and other official buildings. A ten storied building called the Namakkal Kavignar Maligai is located within the fort campus which holds 30 departments.

For more details our blog:

https://padmavathitravels.com/chennai-locals-tour-package.php

#BEST CAR RENTALS IN CHENNAI #Chennai tour packages by car #One Day chennai Tour Packages by car

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belleshaw · 4 years

Video

flickr

#black and white #dr george car show #indian wells #car show #classic car #saint christopher #steering wheel #volkswagen #bus #vw #type 2 #interior #through glass #window #reflections #detail

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tothemaxxx · 2 years

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My Favorite Films and Performances of 2021

Another year of watching movies mostly at home! Would I have enjoyed certain titles more had I seen them on the big screen? Very likely! Did we buy a slightly larger TV? We sure did! Big screen or small, I found plenty to enjoy this last year... there may have even been a few instant classics. As per, I didn't get to see everything on my list. But I am excited to say that I've finally gotten back into Letterboxd after almost a decade's hiatus and it has injected some new excitement (and more organization) into my film-viewing habits. Here is my Top 20 as a list on Letterboxd, if you're into that sort of thing. Otherwise, keep scrolling! Thanks for your passing interest in my taste in film. Happy watching!

TOP 10

Ranking is VERY loose, and subject to change as the years pass and the details fade.

1. DRIVE MY CAR, Ryusuke Hamaguchi

2. LICORICE PIZZA, Paul Thomas Anderson

3. BERGMAN ISLAND, Mia Hansen-Løve

4. BENEDETTA, Paul Verhoeven

5. WHEEL OF FORTUNE AND FANTASY, Ryusuke Hamaguchi

6. THE VELVET UNDERGROUND, Todd Haynes

7. ANNETTE, Leos Carax

8. SPENCER, Pablo Larrain

9. THE POWER OF THE DOG, Jane Campion

10. THE LAST DUEL, Ridley Scott

Imagine my surprise upon drafting this list, that at some point in the last year Tumblr imposed a limit of 10 images per post! What's a guy with a top 20 to do other than be bummed out?!

Here's 10-20, sans photo, also loosely ranked:

TITANE, Julia Ducournau

WEST SIDE STORY, Steven Spielberg

RED ROCKET, Sean Baker

THE LOST DAUGHTER, Maggie Gyllenhaal

THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD, Joachim Trier

MALIGNANT, James Wan

CRYPTOZOO, Dash Shaw

DUNE, Denis Villeneuve

ZOLA, Janicza Bravo

THE SOUVENIR: PART II, Joanna Hogg

And a special commendation to is-it-a-film-or-a-series, Peter Jackson's THE BEATLES: GET BACK

I also enjoyed:

About Endlessness, Azor, Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, Beckett, The Big Trim, Boiling Point, Candyman, The Card Counter, Caveat, Censor, C'mon C'mon, Compartment No. 6, The Duke, El Planeta, The Electrical Life of Louis Wain, The French Dispatch, Ghostbusters: Afterlife, The Good Boss, The Hand of God, A Hero, I'm Your Man, In the Earth, Jockey, Lapsis, Last Night in Soho, Limbo, Mad God, Mandibles, The Many Saints of Newark, MASS, The Matrix Resurrections, The Mitchells vs The Machines, The Night House, Nightmare Alley, No Sudden Move, No Time to Die, The Novice, Old, Old Henry, Only the Animals, Parallel Mothers, Paris 13th District, Passing, Pig, Prime Time, Quo Vadis Aida, Riders of Justice, Saint Maud, Seance, Shiva Baby, Stillwater, The Summit of the Gods, Swan Song (the one with Udo Kier that is), Test Pattern, The Tragedy of Macbeth, Undine, Venom: Let There Be Carnage, Violation

And these documentaries:

Becoming Cousteau, Billie Eilish: The World's a Little Blurry, Julia, kid 90, Like A Rolling Stone: The Life & Times of Ben Fong-Torres, Listening to Kenny G, Procession, The Rescue, Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain, The Sparks Brothers, Tina, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror, Woodstock 99: Peace, Love, and Rage

And some memorable (and mostly underdicussed) performances worth shouting out:

Niamh Algar as Enid Baines in Censor

Moises Arias as Gabriel in Jockey

Javier Bardem as Julio Blanco in The Good Boss

Don Cheadle as Curt Goynes in No Sudden Move

Jodie Comer as Marguerite de Carrouges in The Last Duel

Anders Danielsen Lie as Joseph in Bergman Island and as Aksel in The Worst Person in the World

Ana de Armas as Paloma in No Time to Die

Ariana DeBose as Anita in West Side Story

Benicio del Toro as Moses Rosenthaler in The French Dispatch

George DiCaprio as Mr. Jack in Licorice Pizza

Virginie Efira as Benedetta Carlini in Benedetta

Adèle Exarchopoulos as Agnès in Mandibles

Mike Faist as Riff in West Side Story

Brendan Fraser as Doug Jones in No Sudden Move

Isabelle Furman as Alex Dall in The Novice

Skyler Gisondo as Lance in Licorice Pizza

Seidi Haarla as Laura in Compartment No. 6

The Haim family as the Kane family in Licorice Pizza

Brittany S. Hall as Renesha Bell in Test Pattern

Rebecca Hall as Beth in The Night House

Tom Hardy as Eddie Brock/Venom in Venom: Let There Be Carnage

Harriet Sansom Harris as Mary Grady in Licorice Pizza

Sally Hawkins as Maggie in Spencer

Simon Helberg as The Accompanist in Annette

Kathryn Hunter as Witches in The Tragedy of Macbeth

Amir Jahidi as Rahim in A Hero

Riley Keough as Stefani in Zola

Udo Kier as Pat Pitsenbarger in Swan Song

Vicky Krieps as Chris in Bergman Island

Tōko Miura as Misaki Watari in Drive My Car

Katsuki Mori as Nao in Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

Tim Blake Nelson as Henry in Old Henry

Hidetoshi Nishijima as Yūsuke Kafuku in Drive My Car

Allessandro Nivola as Dickie Moltisanti in The Many Saints of Newark

Woody Norman as Jesse in C'mon C'mon

Masaki Okada as Kōji Takatsuki in Drive My Car

Taylor Paige as Zola in Zola

Park Yu-rim as Lee Yoon-a in Drive My Car

Martha Plimpton as Gail in MASS

Renate Reinsve as Julie in The Worst Person in the World

Simon Rex as Mikey Saber in Red Rocket

Jonathan Richman as himself in The Velvet Underground

Agathe Russelle as Alexia/Adrien in Titane

Makita Samba as Camille Germain in Paris, 13th District

Rachel Sennott as Danielle in Shiva Baby

Reece Shearsmith as Zach in In The Earth

Kiyohiko Shibukawa as Segawa in Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

Milena Smit as Ana in Parallel Mothers

Kodi Smit-McPhee as Peter Gordon in The Power of the Dog

Suzanna Son as Strawberry in Red Rocket

Timothy Spall as Major Alistar Gregory in Spencer

Dan Stevens as Tom in I'm Your Man

Tilda Swinton as J.K.L. Berensen in The French Dispatch

Honor Switon Byrne as Julie in The Souvenir: Part II

Fusako Urabe as Moka in Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy

Annabelle Wallis as Madison Mitchell/Emily May in Malignant

Jeffrey Wright as Roebuck Wright in The French Dispatch

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mrsmaybank · 4 years

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Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader - CH 3

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

CHAPTER ONE HERE

CHAPTER TWO HERE

A/N:I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content (dom/sub dynamics/kinks), angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug use and addiction. (Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content) HIGHLY recommend you listen to the playlist as you read!

A/N2: This chapter is the most wholesome one in the whole series! Other then the kinky smut LMAO. No for real though, this is as fluffy as it gets. Next chapter gets um... well you’ll see!

TW: Language, Age gap, use of ‘Little Girl’ as pet name, explicit sexual content (light degradation & unprotected sex), mentions of death, smoking weed, mentions of violence

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

The seconds of ignorant bliss after opening your eyes for the first time since a night of horrible decisions didn’t last as long for Y/N anymore. Pains and aches serving a reminder of all the apologies that were owed from her. Instant dread and distaste for confrontation swirled in her stomach. Ah but she deserved it all. The night was blurry, but from recollection, it was only Teddy. He’d dropped her off home, she remembered that. From where? Who knows, but it probably didn’t matter. Teddy’s services didn’t really warrant (nor did Teddy want) a heartfelt, apologetic phone call she decided. Instead a simple, “thx” text sufficed.

She stepped out of her room, pleased with the sight of her roommate rolling a joint on the kitchen table. “Good fucking morning.” she meant it. The weed would ease the sting of the bruises and busted lip.

“Morning.” Kena said, licking the joint to seal its precious contents. “What the fuck happened to you last night?” making a face of amusement.

The friends bursted out in laughter in unison.

“Got my ass beat.” Y/N started telling the story as Kena lit the j. “Remember ‘Record Shop’ Dude’?”

“Do I remember? You guys fucked for like a week straight. Thought you guys were gonna get married.”

“Well,” she couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, “Apparently he has a girlfriend. They’ve been together for three years.”

Kena passed her the joint laughing, “Apparently.” she watched as her friend inhaled the smoke, “I’ll never understand why you don't fight back every time. I’ve seen your left hook, it’s deathly. It’s like you like getting your ass kicked.”

Y/N finished the joint, putting it out. “Yeah, I get off. Masochist, remember?” she said in a serious tone. Kena understood the satire of her response.

“What’re your plans tod-” she was cut off by her phone ringing. She saw the unknown number and smiled putting it on speaker for Kena to hear. “I’m fucking broke!” she shouted as Kena laughed. “You can’t scam me! I don’t have any fucking money to steal!”

The line went silent and they awaited the confused stutter of some telemarketing con artist. And a confused stutter came.

“Y/N? It’s Spencer.” he paused, “Spencer Reid?” he paused again. Perhaps she’d forgotten him. “Dr. Spencer Reid?”

“I know who you are.”

Kena looked at her friend in confusion, but she was busy replaying the events of the previous night. Spencer had called Teddy, from the parking lot of a shady...her memory stalled, liquor store.

“Holy fuck I’m such a piece of garbage.” was the only thing her subconscious could render.

“I am so fucking sorry. Holy shit. Thank you for last night, dear fuck. I’m sorry about that. And for screaming at you! I didn’t have your number saved.”

Spencer lightly sighed. She remembered. “It’s okay. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, great.” she stammered, “I’ve woken up a lot worse.”

Spencer could hear the slight embarrassment in her voice. “Good, good.” he took a deep breath, “Well I was wondering if maybe I could take you out to lunch? We’ve only ever spoken in parking lots.”

Kena opened her eyes in delight, mouthing “Yes!”

Y/N couldn’t contain her smile, “I’d like that Dr. Reid. Pick me up at three?”

“Sure little girl. See you soon.” Spencer hung up and Y/N melted.

Kena screamed, “You’ve been fucking a doctor?!”

“No.” she smiled a devilish grin, “But I’m about to.” she sang, practically skipping with joy back to her room.

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Spencer hadn’t gotten a good look at the complex in the dark, but now he could see it in its full glory. Beer bottles and cigarette buds littered everywhere, sulky characters loitering at practically every corner, and a reek of marijuana. Not his personal idea of home sweet home.

He watched as the girl he was waiting for exited from apartment 209, looking just as wild as ever. He wondered if the disheveled look was intentional or if she always looked so crazily hot. His eyes continued to follow as she walked down the steps and into his passenger seat.

“Hi.” she said, eyes wide and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was blushing. Y/N didn’t seem like the kind of girl to blush.

“Hey. You look nice.” he started to pull out of the parking space.

“You don’t have to say that you know. I don’t look nice. I never look nice.” she sighed, “Truthfully I hate the idea of looking nice.”

Spencer was amused with her little ramble, “Why?”

“‘Cause nice is what you look like when you’re going to church. Or brunch. And I don’t do either of those.” she said plainly.

“What’s wrong with brunch?” he questioned smiling.

“Nothing is wrong with brunch.” she paused for a minute, deciding whether or not to tell him all the atrocious memories she had in connection to brunch. He only asked you about fucking brunch. Don’t reveal all your baggage already. Don’t be a dramatic bitch. Just say your vegan or some bullshi-

“What are you contemplating on telling me?”

Her mouth gaped playfully. “Fucking cut the profiling! Three minutes in and you’re already doing your weird government shit.” she remarked, teasingly defensively.

Spencer laughed, “Weird government shit? Really?”

“Yeah.” she pursed her lips, “I said what I said.”

“It’s psychology, not weird government shit. It’s analyzing body language, and speech patterns and-”

“I get it. You’re fucking smart.” They pulled out to a red light.

“You’re smart too.”

“Thanks Doctor.” she smiled, it did make her happy to hear that. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”, and see she did. As they got out of the car, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling. At first it was the way Spencer’s hand found hers, but then it was the sight. The restaurant was placed under the biggest trees she’d ever seen, with ivy hanging just a couple feet over her head. It was illuminated with lanterns and tiny hanging lights and she felt like she was in a fairy tale. It was beautiful.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yes?” he said approaching the hostess, “Table for two, Spencer.” His attention shifted back down at her. “This is the prettiest place a boy has ever taken me.”

He smiled, “Yeah? You like it?” The hostess led them to their table and they sat. “A lot.” she giggled and Spencer swore his heart would explode. The sound was just too adorable.

“So Y/N, where are you from?”

She was a little surprised at the question, almost like nobody had ever asked. Had she ever been on a date? Like a proper sit down date?

“New York City, originally. But I uh, moved around a lot as a kid.”

“Tell me about that.”

“You really wanna know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he questioned.

“Okay, fine. I used to live in this beautiful townhouse in Manhattan. I had a pink room with a huge bed and canopy. A gorgeous chandelier, this vanity with all my tiaras, and my dolls! Oh my god, those dolls were so fucking pretty.” he listened intently, relishing in the way her eyes lit up in a way he’d never seen.

“And then my dad died.” the glint of joy in her eyes was gone. “When I was seven. And we moved to West Virginia, living with my grandmother, until she died!” she let out a small laugh in attempts to keep the mood up. “Then we were living in this mobile park, which wasn’t so bad. Creeps and meth-heads came and went, but overall not a horrible place to grow up. It’s where I met Teddy, you know him.”

He nodded his head, still listening to every detail of the story.

“After my mom got remarried, him and I decided we wanted to go to California. This was supposed to just be a pitstop, get our shit together, you know? But we had a falling out, and he went without me. Came back when his brother got cancer. Then after Casey died he came back to D.C, got me to enroll in school with him And uh, now I’m here. I go to Washington Uni, by the way. Major in Journalism.” she ended shyly.

“I’m sorry about your dad. And your grandma. That’s a story.”

She nodded her head. “Its okay. Better place, you know?” How about you?”

“Well, uh, I’m from Las Vegas. It’s been just me and my mom for a while. My childhood was a little weird, graduated high school when I was twelve, then I-”

“Hold the fuck up, twelve?” he nodded. “Holy shit. You’re one of those freakishly smart prodigy motherfuckers aren’t you?”

He laughed, “IQ of 187, not to brag.”

“Oh fuck you, you’re totally bragging.”

“You got into Washington, you did well in school too.”

“Yeah uh, despite the shitty childhood school wasn’t really ever an issue. My dad was a Senator, George Y/L/N, in New York. He had a lot of random contacts. When we moved to West Virginia I got to go to some snobby private school ‘cause his friend was a board member. Saint Matilda Preparatory School. Top of my class.” she smiled, “Not to brag.”

“You’re definitely bragging.” he teased.

Scoffing, she said, “I didn’t drop my IQ number, so you’re still the gloating one here.”

“I didn’t think you were a high school drop-out.” “Aw Spencer really?” she said sarcastically.

There waiter came and took their order, but neither of them really cared about the food. They stayed there talking for longer then the restaurant would’ve liked, telling each other their craziest dreams, wildest experiences, bad decisions, and nothing and everything. Before they knew it, the restaurant was kicking them out. They walked back to Spencer’s car, hysterically laughing at the disdained waiter who had to so awkwardly ask them to order something else or leave, Y/N clinging to his arm.

“Nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.” Y/N said as Spencer got into the drivers seat.

“What do you mean?” Spencer turned to face her.

“Picked me up, taken me to a pretty restaurant, paid, opened doors for me.” her eyes locked in his, “Listened to me talk for so long.”

“I could listen to you talk forever.” he grabbed her face and kissed her. The kiss was nothing like he’d expected. It wasn’t an aggressive make-out fired by lust, it was a kiss of passion and dear affection.

They began to drive in silence. Not uncomfortable Awkward silence, more like enjoying each other's company silence. That is until Y/N did something Spencer should’ve seen coming as this was the same girl he’d met at the gas station. Her hands were inching their way up his leg to his crotch, teasingly slow. She scanned his eyes for some note to stop, but it never came. She palmed him gently through his pants, watching him struggle to keep his eyes on the road, as he twitched under her touch. “Fuck.” he sighed out quietly, “Stop.”

“Take your shoes off, get in the backseat.” he turned off the main road, driving down a more secluded street until he found a tiny spot almost completely hidden by trees.

“Take your clothes off.” he still hadn’t made eye contact with her since telling her she was smart. She did as she was told, taking off her top and shorts as fast as she could. Spencer got out of the driver's seat and got into the back passenger seat, only the middle seat separating them. “Come here.” obeying, she did. In only a bra and underwear, she crawled into Spencer's fully clothed lap, as he grabbed her face and kissed her. Her barely let her move, wanting to be able to explore her mouth freely, She gasped for air, whispering a small “Oh fuck.”

He tightly gripped her jaw, toying with her bottom lip as he spoke, “You have such a dirty mouth.”

She smiled more poisonously then he’d ever seen, it was mischievous and seductive, and it made him crazy. “What’re you gonna do about it sir?”

Now it was him smiling as the small girl looked up at him with big eyes, “So many things.” He started to kiss her again, this time his hands going down to tease her clothed clit. She moaned into the kiss and rocked her hips down harder into his hand. “Please?” she moaned again.

He moved her panties to the side, sliding a finger through her wetness, “You need something don’t you?” She nodded her head.

“Well, use your words.”

“Touch me.” she got closer in his ear, “Please.”

“What’s with the niceties little girl? You don’t want to be touched, no, Good girls like to be touched. You, you are a desperate little slut, hm?” His fingers dipped into her with no warning, curling immediately, “You want to be destroyed.”

Her hips bucked almost instantly as she cried out, “Yes. I do.”

“Beg for it.”

“Sir,” she opened her eyes to lock with his, “Please.” Spencer continued to curl his fingers while still rubbing her clit, and her moans and breathes got sloppier and louder.

“Please!” she whined. “Please sir.” He couldn’t contain a small laugh, “No.”

“This is a bit pathetic even for you, no? You’re here naked in my lap begging for me to let you come.” She nodded her head. “Oh but I’m sure you’ve done worse haven’t you love?” She shook her head. As badly as he wanted to lecture her about lying, he could feel her tighten on his fingers. “Can..” she stuttered in between moans, “Can I? Please let me come?”

“Awe, good girl asking for permission.” he pulled his fingers out, “No.”

He slipped his fingers in her mouth and watched as she sucked them off. “Figures you’d be good at that.” he unbuckled his belt, pushing his pants and lied back so the door supported his back. “Come sit on it.”

Her eyes opened in delight as she crawled over and did as she was told. He watched in awe as she sunk herself down onto him, clenching as their thighs met. He let her think she had some control, eyes never leaving her as she bounced and moaned. “You’re such a good girl baby.” He could see her teetering right above the edge, and seeing as he was so close as well, he gave in. “Come for me.” and with that, she did. Practically screaming as he fucked up into her through her orgasm, pulling out and finishing himself.

He hugged her into his chest, whispering small praises and delivering soft kisses to her sweaty forehead. She made small circles with her nails on his arms, “I fucked a doctor!” She giggled.

Spencer broke out into laughter, “I fucked YOU.”

“We fucked each other.” They laid there for a moment, Y/N practically melting to the feeling of being in his arms. It was too comforting.

Eventually, Spencer began driving back to her apartment, loving every moment of her outlandish singing and dancing in his passenger seat until he parked to drop her off.

“You’re a very special girl.” Spencer said as she smiled.

She took a deep breath, “Spencer, I fucking like you. A lot. I can’t remember the last time I had a good time like this that I wasn’t fucking high or drunk or both.” she continued to ramble, “And I guess what I’m just trying to convey is-”

She was cut off by Spencer crashing his lips to hers. “I know what you mean.”

She smiled and gave him one last peck on the lips, “I hope I’ll see you soon Dr.”

“You will.”

As she walked back up the stairs to her apartment, Y/N only had one thought. How am I gonna manage to fuck this up?

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Taglist (Comment to be added!): @generaltheoristexpert @psych0crybaby @areallyusellesblog @arctic-duchess

@chevyimpala00067 @georgia4287 @purpleraindrops @drreidshands @must-be-a-weasley-92 @gabbie-is-sad @willowafsi

#spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidsmut #spencerreid x reader smut #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencereidxy/n #criminalminds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds reid #reid criminal minds #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #reid x you

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roqixeha · 3 years

Text

How to get a collision cover for your car in Gibraltar

Gibex's passenger locator is a convenient way of getting from one area of the UK to the next. This service is a great alternative to hiring a car, and allows you to drive to your destination. It is particularly useful if you are planning to fly into the area and then take a local taxi or bus to your final destination. You can save money on car hire and have more time to enjoy the area by using an independent company. It also provides the peace of mind that comes with knowing that your journey is being made by an experienced driver.

http://pl.ivisa.com/gibraltar-passenger-locator-form

To use the Gibex passenger locator form you simply fill in the details required and click on the submit button. The system will then search the database and return results which include a list of all known destinations in the UK as well as those in Spain, France, Germany, Russia and Turkey. This allows you to plan your trip based on where you want to go and how much time you want to spend there. These can help you plan your trip more easily and reduce your budget.

When you have entered the area, the GPS readouts are based on a grid system. The size of the grid is in square miles and is based on the last known point of origin for each departure, so when you enter Gibraltar you can check whether you are on United Kingdom territory or not. Similarly, if you are flying out of the north-west of England you will be bound by the UK border. However, if you are flying out of the south-east, you can cross over into Spain. You can either continue to the UK by taking the direct route to Gibraltar or to take a ferry from Alicante or Malaga to reach your final destination.

Another feature that you will find in this fantastic tourist destination is the Gibralfon International Airport. This is the busiest airport in Europe. It is also one the busiest airports worldwide, with almost all major cities landing there. You have the option to land at the main terminal, on the tarmac outside or through the passport control point. There you will need to pass security screening before you can board the aircraft. You will land in Saint George's (Gibraltar) when you fly into British Gibraltar's territorial waters.

Once you have obtained your entry visa, you will be required to stay in the same area for which you have arrived as well as for three months after you have reached your destination city. After your three months in town, you will be eligible to apply for a UK driving license. You must first show the border officer that you have a valid vaccination certificate on the Gibralfon passenger locator form.

The final part of the application includes questions relating to work. If you have not visited a country or territory within the last three months, you will need to purchase a covid-19 test. This test must be taken within 48 hours of your arrival in Gibralfon. Once all of these conditions have been met, you will be given your UK driving license. Before you can drive your vehicle on the roads in Gibralfon, it is important to understand the rules of the road as well as the responsibility of a driver. Drivers in the European car insurance region are subject to many rules and regulations.

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introvertguide · 4 years

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North by Northwest (1959); AFI #55

The next film for review was the Hitchcock classic North by Northwest (1959). This movie has possibly the most well known surprise attack scene in American cinema involving a crop duster. I know, it sounds great. The film was moderately successful at the box office and marked the one and only time that Alfred Hitchcock worked with MGM. It was also only one of two VistaVision films made at the studio. Hitchcock was not a man to let studios mess with his work, so he famously refused to cut 15 minutes out of the movie for time and instead cut a total of 5 seconds worth of material. Before I go into any more detail, I feel like this is bordering quickly on spoilers so let me get the warning and the synopsis out of the way:

SPOILER ALERT!!!! THIS IS A GREAT MOVIE THAT I KNOW VERY WELL AND FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE SEEN BEFORE IT IS DISCUSSED!!! I AM GOING TO GO OVER THE FILM IN GREAT DETAIL SO CHECK IT OUT BEFORE READING ANY FURTHER!!!

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The whole story begins with a case of mistaken identity. Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) is an advertising executive who is going to lunch to have a business meeting. He sits down and then remembers he needs to phone his mother so he summons the waiter to ask about a phone. Apparently the waiter had just received a call for a spy named George Kaplan and some thugs are waiting for a signal that will identify the man. Thornhill’s signal is mistaken for the spy’s and the thugs move in and take away the ad exec at gunpoint. They go to the home of U.N. Diplomat Lester Townsend and Thornhill is interrogated by a spy named Philip Vandamm (James Mason) and his right hand man Leonard (Martin Landau). Thornhill tries to say he is innocent, but Vandamm and the thugs do not believe him and stage his death by drunken car accident. Thornhill survives and escapes by car, but he is still drunk and is subsequently stopped and arrested by the Glen Cove police for drunk driving.

Thornhill sleeps off his intoxication at the station and calls his mother to get in contact with their lawyer. The next day, Thornhill tells the local court everything that he remembers happening, but nobody believes him. He even takes them back to the house and a woman claiming to be Townsend’s wife acts like Thornhill was there for a party and left drunk. Thornhill has to pay the fine (a whole $2), but he is still curious.

Thornhill and his mother go back to the restaurant where he was kidnapped and finagle their way up into the attached hotel to find the real spy, George Kaplan. It turns out that nobody has ever seen this man in person so everybody just assumes that Thornhill is Kaplan since he showed up at the room. The thugs have returned and try to recapture Thornhill still thinking he is Kaplan, but Thornhill is able to escape. He goes and visits the UN to talk to Townsend in an effort to shine a light on the situation, but Townsend is confused and says that his wife died many years ago. Suddenly, a knife is thrown into the back of Townsend and all the witnesses around think that Thornhill did it as there is nobody else to blame. Thornhill again escapes and is now running away and trying to find Kaplan in hopes of clearing his name.

I very quick scene of an American intelligence agency meeting reveals that Kaplan never existed and that this was a made up spy to keep Vandamm occupied while they figure out his plans. It is unfortunate for Thornhill, but all agree that he will have to become Kaplan and more than likely die by the hands of Vandamm and his men. Thornhill is unaware of this meeting and continues to run around looking for this non-existent spy.

Thornhill is able to sneak on a train to go to Chicago since he believes that Kaplan is at a hotel there. He runs into a lovely blonde named Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint) who seems aggressively interested in him and wants to help him hide out. She knows that he is the man who is being blamed for the murder of the UN diplomat and she seems to want to sleep with him (like a groupie)? She is very straight forward and it turns out that this is because she is working for Vandamm, who is also on the train.

In the morning, Eve helps Thornhill arrange a meeting with the non-existent Kaplan at an isolated rural bus stop outside of the Chicago. Thornhill gets there and finds...nothing? A guy shows up but he is just waiting for the next bus. The only thing around is a biplane crop duster that seems to be dusting empty fields. It dramatically turns and swoops down at Thornhill firing a backloaded machine gun. Thornhill is able to hide in the fields and then manages to get under a passing oil truck, which the biplane smashes into and eventually explodes.

Thornhill steals a truck and reaches Kaplan's hotel in Chicago to discover that Kaplan had already checked out and left before the time when Eve claimed she talked to him on the phone. Thornhill goes to her room and confronts her and she plays naïve. She tries to run away while he is changing clothes, but he quickly follows her down to an auction where he finds her with Vandamm. He insults her coldly and then makes his escape from Vandamm by turning himself in, but the police strangely won’t take him to the station and instead leave him in the care of a man simply called The Professor (Lee Carroll).

The professor finally reveals to Thornhill that Kaplan doesn’t exist and that Eve is actually a government agent working for the U.S. It is also explained that Vandamm has some sort of evidence/information that he is trying to take out of the country and will be leaving by plane from his South Dakota home that is in the woods right next to Mount Rushmore. The Professor leaves Thornhill to play the role of Kaplan and negotiates for Eve at the Mount Rushmore visitor center and she seemingly shoots him to look good in front of Vandamm. Luckily the gun is loaded with blanks (remember this gun, it will come back).

Afterwards, the Professor arranges for Thornhill and Eve to meet and Thornhill learns that she must depart with Vandamm and Leonard on a plane. When Thornhill tries to dissuade her from going, he is knocked unconscious by another one of The Professor’s men and locked in a hospital room. Thornhill is able to escape (he gets out of everything) custody and goes to Vandamm's house to rescue Eve from leaving.

At the house, Thornhill sneaks around and overhears that the sculpture that Vandamm bought at the auction holds some kind of microfilm. Leonard also reveals to Vandamm that the gun was a blank and it is decided that Eve will be killed on the plane. Thornhill must keep Eve from getting on the plane so he gives her a note revealing the plot. She is being lead out to the plane and she makes a break for it, meets Thornhill, and they climb out on to Mount Rushmore to escape. The Professor rushes in with his men and arrests Vandamm while also shooting Leonard.

Unfortunately, Eve has slipped climbing around on the president faces and Thornhill is attempting to pull her back to safety when...he is now suddenly pulling her onto a foldout train bed and he is calling her Mrs. Thornhill. The train enters a tunnel and the movie ends.

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This was the fourth and lowest rated Hitchcock film on the AFI top 100, but I opine that it is the most fun. The constant escapes and the almost relatable situation of a businessman getting wrapped up in something of which he wanted no part of makes this a very easy watch. There really are no slow points in this film and the action is punctuated by good comedy. Drunken Thornhill trying to explain what happened and then desperately bidding at an auction to bide time for an escape his hilarious. My favorite line in the film is when Thornhill and The Professor are waiting at the Mount Rushmore visitor center and Thornhill looks through a viewing scope and says “I don’t like the way that Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me.” That is awesome.

As much as Alfred Hitchcock was the Master of Suspense and the King of Dramatic Climax...his endings aren’t generally very good. He did a terrific job wrapping up Rear Window (1954), making sure all storylines were finished, but he really didn’t end North by Northwest (1959), Vertigo (1958), or The Birds (1963). The movie Psycho (1960) did have an ending, but it was an exposition dump that really was the low part of the film. I love all of these films and the suspenseful build-ups to the dramatic climaxes are extraordinary and put them in a class of their own, but I would not call Hitchcock one to demand a satisfying resolution.

I know that I have done it for every one of the Hitchcock movies on the AFI list, but I again want to give a shout to Saul Bass for the opening credits and Bernard Hermann for the score. The intro to a Hitchcock film puts you in the mood for a good story and the score keeps you interested all the way to the end.

There were some questions from my parents as well as from a couple of viewers about the biplane scene. How was it that the plane passed by and then machine gun fire followed? Well, the plane was a N3N Canary, also known as the “Yellow Peril,” and was a tandem seat training biplane that had an open cockpit. This means that there had to be a a guy in the back with a gun shooting backwards. These were generally converted for agricultural use at the end of WW2. The plane that blew up was a different plane (a Stearman Boeing Model 75 trainer) that was also used as an agricultural duster. Empire magazine rated this scene as the greatest movie moment of all time.

Now that the group has been watching so many movies from Old Hollywood, it became apparent to me how extraordinarily dirty the language was on the train between Roger and Eve. I remember reviewing this film in a college film course and the professor commenting over the scene. She mentioned that this was the only scene of the film that had any cuts and they were made by Hitchcock himself. I also remember Eva Marie Saint saying she was 26 and the professor said, “Ha! Plus 10!” This was a mid 20s female character (played by an actress in her 30s) trying to actively bed a character in his mid 40s (played by an actor in his 50s) who she has just met and spent a total of 5 minutes with. It was all sorts of awkward, and it was great.

So. Should this move be on the AFI top 100? Yes. Probably higher in rank. I was just thinking of another Cary Grant film that is higher on the list, The Philadelphia Story (1940), and how this film is so much more fun. I think that there are other Hitchcock films like Rebecca (1940) and The Birds (1963) that could be on this list, but I guess 4 films from a director that isn’t American is a good representation. North by Northwest is definitely a deserving example. Would I recommend it? Yes. Heck, you can borrow my copy as long as you bring it back. I have seen the film probably two dozen times in the last 20 years and I would be happy to see it again if it means somebody can experience it for the first time. I highly recommend checking it out for yourself.

#alfred hitchcock #cary grant #eva marie saint #james mason #north by northwest #afi top 100 movies #movie review #film critique #synopsys #best movie scenes #introvert #introverts #film stills #spoilers

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ijustwant2write · 5 years

Text

Demons and Dragons-Crowley x Reader x Aziraphale (Platonic)

(GIF credit to @sherlxdestiel)

Saw a post by @darkshadow3942 and I had to write it! Also this is my first Good Omens post, and I can’t express how much I love this show!!!!

Summary: Imagine being the supposed dragon that was supposedly slain by Saint George. In reality, you’re a simple demon that posed as a dragon after Crowley dared you into it. He still gets a kick out of it to this day every time you two go out for a drink.

Characters: Crowley x Reader (platonic), Aziraphale x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight swearing, drinking

(A/N: I just had to include Aziraphale in this and you’ll see why)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“(Y/N)! What the devil are you doing here?” I heard Crowley exclaim as he spotted me.

I was casually leaning against a lamppost, hands in my coat pockets as I watched him emerge from the bookshop his angel friend owned. He sauntered across the road, not bothering to check for cars as a grin beamed across his face.

I smiled back at him.“It’s been quite some time. Needed to get away from everyone down below, you know? Be with someone I can tolerate.”

“Tolerate? So I’ve moved up in the ranks.”

“When someone told me that you were hanging out in a bookshop, I had to come and see it for myself. How come you’re here?”

“Well, you know, anti-Christ, end of the world, usual business.”

I nodded, sensing the sarcasm.“Oh yes, heard about that too.”

“Listen, we should talk about this over a glass of wine!”

“Just a glass?”

Over Crowley’s shoulder, I saw movement coming from the bookshop, a man dressed in variations of whites spotted us, twiddling his thumbs together. Crowley noticed that I wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, spinning around before quickly turning back to me.

“Right, are we going? I know a great place where-”

“Invite the angel.”

His lips were pursed as he went to speak, but he hesitated.“W-what?”

“We can’t leave him by himself! That would just be plain rude.”

“Demons don’t care about manners.”

A slow smirk grew on my face, Crowley’s eyes reflecting worry as he saw; his footsteps were frantic as I made a beeline for the angel, liking the horrified look he was trying to hide.

“Hello, we haven’t met.” I started.“I’m (Y/N), an old friend of Crowley’s, though I suppose you’re a much older friend than I am.”

“We’re not friends.” they simultaneously said, though neither held much conviction in their tone.

My eyes darted between them, before giggling at them.“We were wondering if you would care to join us for a drink?”

“Drinking with demons? I couldn’t possibly fathom-”

“What’s your name?”

“I-it’s Aziraphale.”

“Aziraphale, have you ever heard the term, ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think that’s what’s going on here. Come on, I’m parched. Where’s a good place to drink round here?”

Leaning back in my chair, I clumsily placed the wine glass down on the table, chuckling quietly to myself as it almost tipped over. Yet again it was empty, though Crowley was quick to fill it back up again. We clinked our glasses, raising them towards each other before necking the wine back again. Poor Aziraphale sat with his own drink, and though he too had drank quite a few, he wasn’t letting loose as much as we were.

Everyone knew (or had suspicions of) these two. They definitely were friends, even if they didn’t want to label it that way. Demons and Angels despised each other, it was a well known fact, even amongst the humans. Good Vs Bad, God’s army against Satan’s. But these two seemed to break the mold. I had been around for just about the same time as them, yet I had never seen another friendship like it. They were able to find loopholes, break the system somehow without even alerting anyone. Yes, people knew, but they didn’t actually know what they were doing together.

“May I ask,” Aziraphale suddenly spoke up,“as to why you are here (Y/N)?”

I cleared my throat, crossing one leg over the other as I swirled my wine around in my glass.“To be completely honest with you, I was bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yes, bored. All anyone went on about down there was the anti-Christ and how many days it was until Armageddon. I mean, doesn’t anyone have anything better to do?”

“I mean, it is the end of the world they’re discussing. Seems like a big thing to me.”

“Yes, but I’m not interested. Everything turned so serious, where’s all the fun nowadays? We used to be able to do anything we liked!”

“Oh!” Crowley raised a finger, falling into hysterics as he tried to speak.“Do...do you....d-do...oh, I’m sorry, just hold on a minute.”

We waited as he continued laughing, the alcohol not helping him recover. He took a deep breath though ended up laughing again. Once he was calm, wiping away the tears in his eyes, he regained his posture, able to speak properly again.

“Do you remember St George?”

I cracked up with laughter too as soon as the name popped up. As we bent over giggling, throwing our heads back when snorting, Aziraphale once again remained silent, watching the two idiot demons lose it.

“St George? Why should she remember him?” Aziraphale asked, looking back and forth between us.

“Because, dear angel,” I spread open my arms in a proud fashion,“I was that dragon that was slain by the saint himself.”

Aziraphale sat up even straighter.“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, dragons are seen as evil beings right? Or used to be anyway. Obviously someone needed to do the job. Crowley was supposed to, but as usual, he found a loophole.”

“Now hang on a second,” Crowley rushed out after drinking from his glass,“we were both bored, and neither of us had an assignment, as you like to call them, like this in years!”

“Alright, if you say so.”

“Plus I don’t like morphing into animals, or mystical beings. It tires me too much.”

“Anyway, Crowley told me the details and insisted that I accept defeat from George.”

“You did?” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, a small smile starting to form on his face.

“I don’t remember saying that.” Crowley protested.

“How would a simple man defeat a dragon? And if you know me so well, you would know that I wouldn’t accept defeat.”

“Yes, alright, but it was so much more interesting to watch than participate!”

“Hold on for just one moment!” Aziraphale exclaimed.“What happened after George slayed the dragon? Well, to you.”

“He slayed no dragon that day.” I started.“That man froze as soon as he saw me, almost shit his breeches. Before I could swallow him whole, Crowley stopped me. Somehow he convinced me to not eat the Saint-”

“But the dragon wanted human sacrifices, it kidnapped a princess!”

“Yeah, well, you know what our boss is like, a bit over dramatic a times, I’ll admit. When he got bored of that, he got Crowley in to sort out the mess he left behind, who then brought me in. I had no idea about the princess being there, she was annoying. Then George came along, I felt bad for the guy, pretended to be killed....that’s it really.”

“But the chivalry, the bravery-”

“He had none of that, and you made him a Saint.”

Aziraphale sighed.“Oh dear, if upstairs heard of this-”

I interrupted him once again.“They won’t though! It was centuries ago. Everyone was happy. I got to mess around with a good guy, Crowley got his bit of entertainment, and you did your job.”

I raised my glass in a happy fashion, chugging back the Prosecco like it was water. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, tutting at me, though not in a rude way; he was trying to process everything, the poor being. I knew that he would play by the books, he seemed to be the only angel that did nowadays. Crowley hadn’t stopped smirking throughout the story. He leaned back in his chair, one arm hooked around the back of it as he began speaking.

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you. But (Y/N) here is a sore loser.”

I scoffed.“I didn’t lose, I played dead so that some mere mortal would have a chance of living, because you begged me to.”

“See what I mean?”

“Although I am quite displeased by the fact that George didn’t do a good deed in ‘defeating evil’ as it were, I am grateful for what you did (Y/N).” Aziraphale finally smiled.

My face scrunched up at his words, pausing before saying,“What?”

“I put it down to good showmanship. I can imagine you put on quite a show.”

“A total drama queen.” Crowley added.

“Yes, well, I can admit it was a rather riveting performance.” I looked at my nails, distracting myself from the holy forgiveness being bestowed upon me.“Gave me something to do for a while.”

“Come on, admit it,” Crowley nudged me,“you loved it.”

“You know what gentlemen, we should do this more often. There are many stories I could tell you both.”

“Both?”

“Not all of them concern you Crowley.”

“I suppose you’re not that bad really. Why we could make this a daily thing-wait...Oh dear! Crowley, we must get going!”

“Whatever for?” Crowley slurred.

“Armageddon!”

The demon sighed, moaning like a child as he stood.“Yes alright. (Y/N), you need to pop by soon, tell me those stories. Pop by the bookshop anytime.” He slung his jacket over his shoulder, waltzing away as Aziraphale spluttered over his words.

“No! Well I don’t mean to be rude but, you see it’s my bookshop and-”

“Aziraphale, I think you might want to run after him. You do have a world to save.” I grinned.

He nodded, nimbly running after his demon friend. As the opposite pair quickly left, I gazed over the various alcohols left on the table. Crowley had drank almost all of his, though there was still enough left for me, whereas Aziraphale wasn’t as near finished.

I giggled to myself, pulling the beverages closer.“Seems a shame to let this all go to waste. What to start with first?”

#good omens #good omens imagine #good omens imagines #good omens one shot #good omens x reader #crowley #good omens crowley #crowley good omens #crowley imagine #crowley imagines #crowley one shot #crowley x reader #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale imagines #aziraphale one shot #aziraphale x reader

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saintheartwing · 4 years

Text

Invader Zim: The Pigshit Troll, Part One

Dib didn't like Zim's creative writing stories, and he made that clear to everyone. Now everyone is sure he's the troll going around blasting other people's work and writing horrible, awful things. With his reputation cratered and people despising him...what's to be done?

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Creative writing! One of the best, easiest ways to express yourself in the school setting. It would be a nice and simple way to boost one's grade point average, too.

But it also told people a lot about the sort of person you were, and that was as clear as could be when it came to the "student" called Zim. Dib was very well aware of that. He scowled a bit as he looked through some of the stories Zim had written, all of them were made available on the school's website just like his was or Zita or Sara or his own sister Gaz's, and there were distinct personalities shining through. Dib had spent a long time reading them in his room, his black, scythe-like hair slicked back a little, adjusting his glasses, wearing his usual black jacket as he looked the stories over.

Gretchen had a lot in common with him. She too liked to write mysteries or science fiction tales. Stories of the fantastic. One particular story had a distinct "Carrie" esque influence, a rather homely-looking girl finding out she had psychic powers and was trying to learn "how to blow shit up with my MIND" as she kept saying to her friends and family around her. It actually ended up working, a Poop cola can shaking about on the table to a pineapple and a watermelon getting blown apart to, at long last, the principal's car going up in a glorious bang right before his eyes, thereby ensuring that she would never, ever again get sent to detention or his office for anything.

Sara's stories showed her strict Catholic upbringing, there was much emphasis on guilt, forgiveness, redemption and religion. She had, however, also shown a clear talent in action schlock, FUN action schlock. Dib was surprised to find himself enjoying her tales of the Saints that she'd adapted into stories for others to read, Saint Sebastian taking more arrows than Boromir in Lord of the Rings, Peter racing for his life to escape a hostile city that wanted to kill him, ducking down every grimy alley he could find, and, of course, her magnum opus was on Saint George, the famous "dragon slayer". Not only did she detail a fantastic fight, but George's refusal to renounce his faith, terrible torture sessions, being sliced and diced on a wheel of swords that STILL didn't kill him before finally being decapitated on a city wall. Sara had clear talent for gripping your attention.

Gaz however, loooooved to write horror stories. One particular story stood out. He was in it. Investigating a haunted house, Gaz had written that Dib had heard a grandfather clock chime when the house had been abandoned for over a hundred years, and the clock couldn't still be working. All of the parts were long since rusted and broken down. Then, he was chased by an axe wielding ghost, cracking through the floor, down into a big dungeon…where even more axe wielding ghosts laid in wait! The ending was a horrible twist one too. He woke up in his bed, all of it had clearly been a dream…until you saw the "OR HAD IT?" at the end, with a special illustration she'd made of Dib holding his own severed head up above his body.

But then it came time to Zim's stories. And were he not wearing that black fake hair and fake contacts, Dib knew the little alien invader would be grinning his zipper-toothed grin with a dark, smug light in his ruby/maroon eyes. That little green-skinned piece of crap.

Zim's stories had serious grammatical errors. Zim's stories had him winning all the time. Zim's stories had him doing disgusting, horrible things to humans and especially to Dib, and to his family. Zim seemed to relish in getting to write all of this down and he LOOOOVED seeing the look on Dib's face when Dib was looking at his smartphone, because he knew, he could tell when Dib was reading one of HIS tales. Dib had a unique mixture of disgust, anger, irritation and revulsion that blended together like a bad smoothie, and Zim was drinking it aaaaaaall in…and loving every second of it.

"This doesn't even begin to make sense!" Dib proclaimed, reading the latest story Zim had written. "Why would I ever, EVER help you…YOU…conquer the galaxy? I've spent my whole life trying to keep you from conquering Earth! Literally, years of my life! You expect me to just do a personality 180 and be like "Irken tyranny is fine"!?" He remarked aloud at Zim, giving him a dark glower. "Oh, and then there's this one, this one here…" He pointed at his smartphone screen. "This one just comes off like a torture porn. How did the teacher let you get away with it? It's just you torturing me for no good reason and rubbing your face in winning. And THIS one expects me to be HAPPY that you're conquering the universe using demonic artifacts so the Irken empire reigns supreme! And then you...kidnap my sister? And you murder people in front of her yet expect us to overlook all that awful stuff because you had a sad past? My childhood has sucked, I didn't grow up to be a megalomaniacal sociopath like you!"

"Bully for you." Gaz remarked with a grunt. "Dib, it's just some fanfics and stories, it ain't a big deal."

"Yeah well maybe not, but it's still gross to me, okay? And if he wants to write about it, I get to complain about it. That's my freedom of speech." He grunted back as Zim smirked and stuck his tongue out at Dib. He had a nice, easy way to get under the human's skin and there wasn't anything he could do.

Nobody had any idea how bad it was going to get.

The next day, their English teacher Nick called the students to pay attention at the front of his class as he walked in, his expression solemn, quiet and disturbed. "I found some…very insulting, horrible reviews put up on the school website, reviewing the stories. I would like whoever wrote them to come forward." He intoned, the rather hairy-armed and hairy-chested young man sighing as he folded his arms over his green t-shirt, Dib looking from him to Zim, then to the rest of the class as they immediately took out their phones to check.

Sure enough, the reviews were astoundingly cruel. They weren't even competently put together.

"THIS STORY IS PIG SHIT! THIS STORY IS PIGSHIT!"

"PIGSHIT FUCK YOUR PIGSHIT NARDS YOU DERPIN PAN!"

"THIS STORY IS PIGSHIT!"

"REVIEW MY STORIEZ! u/3211346 REVIEW MY STORIES OR I WILL FIND YOU IN REAL LIFE AND FORCE YOU!"

"Sheesh." Dib frowned. What the heck was all this? It was all in caps. And it had been left not only on stories done by his classmates, but on other classes too. It was odd…nothing linked them at all. After all, the classmates in the grade older than him were super focused on that silly show "Moon Sailor". And Gaz's class, except for her, had all written tales about "Nakuro the Ninja", they were reeeeaaally into anime and manga lately.

"I don't want to believe anyone in my class wrote these reviews but all of the English teachers are asking their students. So…whomever may be behind these? Step forward."

And that's when some of the kids looked right at Dib, murmuring and muttering amongst themselves as Dib glanced back.

"Why are you all looking at me?" He wanted to know, frowning.

"Your stories didn't get that many bad reviews." Sara remarked.

"I still got some, though!" Dib protested. "Besides, that's not a good enough reason to think I did it!"

"But you're always complaining about ZIM'S stories really furiously and being all pissy." Said Zita.

"Why would I leave an anonymous review complaining about his stories when I've always been open about the fact I hate him?" Dib inquired. "I'm gonna all of a sudden decide after years of complaining about him to hide my complaining behind a mask because…why?" He wanted to know. "Furthermore, all of the "pig shit" reviews are advertising someone ELSE'S stories, not mine! That's not my account he linked! And I'm not even interested at all in those ninja stories or those silly Moon Sailor tales, look at the ones I favorited or left signed reviews on, none of them are in those fandoms. I'm not interested in them, so why would I leave any kind of review, even a raging, hateful one on them? Wouldn't I leave one on something I actually care about enough to get angry or furious over?"

"Yeaaaah, but there's a LOT of hatred in these reviews, and you're the only one in class who gets THAT mad about Zim stories." Gretchen confessed. "It does look kinda bad."

"But whenever I complained about Zim's stories, it was because they were so mean and cruel and misanthropic and Zim was just getting away with being a jerk! I laid out all my points well. And I sure didn't just write in all caps and with bad grammar!" Dib added. "You can't just assume I did it!"

But the kids murmured and muttered amongst themselves as Dib frowned, turning away, Zim sniggering at his misfortune. "Yeah, real funny, Zim. Real funny."

The rumor spread through the school. Poor Dib kept getting really insulting messages left for him on all of his work. Even when none of it even MENTIONED Zim, he got the horrible reviews, accusing him of being a troll, of being "Pig Shit".

"Look at this!" He told the guidance counselor, Mr. Thildari….before he remembered the man with soft white hair and a soft yet dark voice was literally blind and couldn't see it. He wore a white long-sleeve shirt and white pants and sat next to Dib on bean bag chairs in the nice "safe space" he'd set up in his office.

"Could you read it aloud?" The man softly inquired.

"Yeah…sure." Dib sighed. "Heh-hem. "you bash stories all time about Zim, tbh and you bully authors here. you are just as bad as any villain you're bitching about so get the fuck over yoself you preachy hypocrite. if i see more writers quit their storys because you a sneaky, evil person karma will come for you. i hope you believe in Jesus because yo gnna need him and the good Lord to save your sorry ass from going to hell".

"My, my, how very rude of them."

"It gets worse. Some garbled nonsense here too. "nvkdfjsl:Derpin pig shittin h*** humpin nards suckin pan!" And THEN there's " You big fat white nasty smelling fat b*** why you took me off the m*** schedule with your trifling dirty white racist a** you big fat b*** oompa loompa body a** b*** I'm coming outside and I'm going to beat the f*** out of you b***". I mean really?! Oompa Loompa body?! Racist?! Where's all this coming from? And then this guy calls me the q word! What is WRONG with these people?!"

"There has to be some way to stop it." Mr. Thildari remarked softly.

"I don't know HOW. How am I supposed to convince them it isn't me?" Dib groaned, burying his face in his hands as Mr. Thildari gently stroked over his back, and quietly sighed. "What could possibly be good enough for them?"

"I wish I could tell you." The guidance counselor told him. "All I can do is promise you, I'll be here to talk to you. To be as a shoulder to cry on."

"I'm glad you're so good at it." Dib confessed softly as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, sniffling a bit, trying to fight back tears. "People don't realize how…how fuckin' SHITTY it is. It's this daily grind, waking up every day to see nothing but shit flung at you just for having an opinion they don't like, for trying to make the world a better place, for trying to hold people accountable for the awful things they say and do."

"Well Dib, remember, Zim has the right to write stories, even if you think they're awful or dark or cruel."

"Yeah…sure. Doesn't mean I don't get to complain about them!" Dib muttered. "Everyone forgets that. They just want to be free to post anything up with no critique. But this? This isn't critique I'm getting, this isn't like me pointing out character inconsistencies or how meanspirited a story feels, this is just bashing, this is just trolling, this is just swears and vulgar crap and yelling. That's not free speech, that's like…HATE speech. So what am I gonna do…" He murmured, burying his face in his hands. "…what am I gonna do…"

…what indeed.

Author's Note: Every single review you see from "Pig Shit" and quoted by Dib is literally word for word either what I've received, or what I've been accused of writing. And Dib's views are my own. And that's all I will say for now.

#fanfic #the pigshit troll #pigshit #review #Invader Zim #Zim #Dib #gaz

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jordandaytour · 4 years

Photo

Madaba Mosaic Map

The world's oldest map of the holy land gives us a fragmented glimpse of the layout of biblical nations.

Located in the Church of Saint George in Madaba, Jordan, the Madaba Mosaic Map is the world’s oldest glimpse into the cartography of the Middle East during biblical times.

This tilemap is the oldest known geographic floor mosaic in existence, depicting the Middle East during the height of the Byzantine period.

Installed sometime during the late 6th century CE, much of the map’s tiles have been chipped away or been destroyed but a large contiguous piece of the map still exists illustrating both locations and names ranging from geographic features to cities.

The mosaic covers lands from Egypt to Lebanon, including sites such as Bethlehem and Gethsemane, but the gem of the mosaic is the detailed representation of the city of Jerusalem.

The Jerusalem portion of the map shows a number of specific structures and street in the city such as the Damascus Gate, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and the Tower of David

There are a number of recreations of the mosaic across the world, most of which are fittingly placed in the floor of a foyer, much like the original.

There is one in a school in Bonn,

as well as a copy in the floor of the YMCA in Jerusalem.

The Madaba Map may not be complete, but it is still our most comprehensive overview of the biblical landscape.

____________________________________________________

Request your tour via the link below: https://jordan-car-and-driver.com/quota-itinerary/ also, you can see our Planned tour via the link below: https://jordan-car-and-driver.com/jordan-planned-tour/

#Madaba #Map #Jerusalem #jordan #jordandaytourandmore

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bakedcookies-a · 4 years

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𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

@crownedguilt.

IF THERE’S ONE THING EVERYONE KNOWS, it’s that charlie saint george is the king of being extra. you’ve gained that reputation for good reason, especially with him. the promposals were admittedly a little more than was necessary, but they had just been the beginning. you just have so much love to give, so much love for him, that the idea of trying to hide it or tone it down to be palatable was incomprehensible. so of course, this had been planned down to the second. NATIONAL KISSING DAY. of course you know it, there had been no chance at all that you’d miss that. as far as you could tell he didn’t know, didn’t understand why you’d insisted he came to see you that exact day, & that only made it better.

you always went big when it came to alex, fairy lights & candles & far too much of anything. your dad works long hours, but you’d clued him in on your plans anyway, a subtle underlying message asking him to stay out as late as possible. of course he’d obliged, agreed to stay late at the office. this was going to be a big night, one way or another. you’d even attempted to cook a nice meal. attempted being the key word, but it was technically a meal nonetheless. EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT. or as close to it as you could get. fairy lights around the house, candles everywhere, dinner table covered by a tablecloth that’s not nearly as expensive as it looks. you’d created the atmosphere, planned it to the last little detail. you have no idea how stressful college may be for him at present, but you intend to give him at least one night where he can relax.

so when you hear the car pull up you’re practically already at the door, hand hovering by the handle before he even knocks. & then he does, & the door is opened so quickly that he probably doesn’t expect it. smile is wide, & while he may not be able to see the full extent of your decorating he can definitely tell by the look on your face that something is going on. he’s pulled inside, door pushed closed quickly before he’s being pushed against it, lips immediately pressed to his. it was intended to be quick, just a hello, but the kiss lasts longer than planned, so easily lost in the moment. but eventually you pull away, eventually moving back just enough to catch your breath. hands take his, fingers intertwining slowly. ❛ you know … it’s national kissing day. ❜

#charlie is truly the King of romance and being extra i love them so much #crownedguilt #╳┊ answered #╳┊ in character #╳┊ v1. — main verse

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

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The Bellini Incident (Part One)

Title: The Bellini Incident

Part One

Author: Gumnut

Apr 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Kayo was going to kill him.

Word count: 3381

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Virgil!whump with a side order of Scott!whump.

Timeline: Standalone, not Rain series.

Author’s note: For @soniabigcheese who threw the prompt at me, and @i-am-chidorixblossom who suggested some Virgil whump. Scott got a bit whumped, too, I’m branching out as a writer, blame @scribbles97.

The prompt: The character who doesn’t realize they’ve been hurt trying to see if everyone else is okay only to slowly realize that everyone is looking at them with mounting horror. Then they touch their side to find it’s wet and oh no…

I’m not sure I pulled it off, and this is only part one, but I hope you enjoy it anyway :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Bellini Construction...the wind had the sign banging against bare steel girders, an onerous clang above the howl of the weather and the whimpers of the man Scott was edging into a harness. First aid in extreme circumstances was International Rescue’s speciality, but that didn’t make it any easier for the person involved.

“Sir, we are nearly there. Please give me your arm.”

The construction worker was one of three who had been caught unawares by an unexpected storm that had swooped in on the site half an hour ago. The high-rise building was subjected to gale-force winds it hadn’t been secured for, and a lightning strike had been the final straw. Part of the structure collapsed in on itself, trapping the three men who had been making their way down. The elevator had fallen several meters. Safeties had kicked in, but the structure had destabilised and the supports holding the car bent under the strain.

International Rescue had been called and Scott had responded.

The two other men had been uninjured and were now safely aboard, but this man had broken his leg. An emergency splint and a haul up to Thunderbird One was the plan.

As with all broken bones, movement hurt like hell. Scott winced in sympathy as he secured the final buckle of the harness and began the lift up to his ‘bird. “I’m sorry, sir. I will do this as fast and as gently as I can.”

The man’s whimper as he became airborne was his only answer.

Scott had his jetpack on, but the gale was a challenge, so he hung onto the line, slowly pulling the man higher. Far above them, Thunderbird One was firing her stabilising thrusters aggressively to maintain her hover.

“Nearly there, sir.”

But the man was beyond reassurance, his expression terrified.

They had almost cleared the skeletal mass of the unfinished building when the world lit up in blinding white with an ear-bleeding bang. The man in his arms screamed and Scott’s senses whited out. The wind threw them against the building’s superstructure and through spots in his vision, Scott attempted to stabilise their ascent.

John was yelling in his ear when something rammed him from his left and everything blacked out.

-o-o-o-

Virgil gripped his ‘bird’s yoke just that little bit tighter as the man behind him demanded delivery to Port de Saint Tropez on the Mediterranean despite having been rescued in the middle of the Pacific.

“Sir, we will be landing in Sydney shortly. You may make alternate arrangements there.” At least Gordon was being polite. Virgil wasn’t really in the mood having had to listen to the rich billionaire abuse his brother for the last hour as the aquanaut had fished him off the bottom of the ocean, his luxury yacht having had an argument with a reef system. Several of his staff had died in the accident, yet he showed no remorse. Virgil was surprised his brother hadn’t decked him yet.

But then again perhaps that was more worrisome. Gordon had other ways to express his ire.

“Thunderbird Two we have an IR situation.” John. Calm, but urgent.

In the split second between this statement and the following, Virgil’s stomach twisted, his brain automatically listing off the brothers currently unaccounted for. IR situation meant IR operative down or endangered. Alan? Scott?

Kay?

“Thunderbird One is in need of emergency assistance. Contact lost.”

Tokyo. Scott was in Tokyo. Without thought, Virgil was changing his flight plan, inputting new coordinates into the nav system. The sunlight in the cockpit coasted across the decking as the great ‘bird banked into a turn towards the north. A pause for course correction and Virgil’s arm shoved the throttle to full speed.

Dick Billionaire - Virgil hadn’t bothered to remember his last name, and ‘Richard’ was just too easy to exploit - squawked in his seat as they were all shoved backwards at the sudden acceleration.

“What the hell? Where are you taking me?”

“We have another emergency to attend to, sir. We apologise for the delay in your disembark, but it is unavoidable.” Virgil didn’t blink and didn’t look at the man.

“This is unacceptable!”

“Too bad. Gordon, could you please take Mr Billionaire down below. And sir, if you disrespect my brother one more time, I will have you ejected from my ship.”

“Your brother?”

“Get out now.”

He could feel Gordon staring at him, but his little brother did his bidding and apparently it had been enough to shut Dick up for the short term at least. The two left and Virgil turned to the hologram of John hovering above his console. “Details?”

John was frowning at him, but the situation took precedence as it should. “Scott was attending a situation at a construction site. Bellini Constructions high rise apartments in Tokyo. Storm hit and the structure partly collapsed, trapping three workers. Scott managed to free two and was handling the third when the building was struck by lightning. I have not had contact since.”

Virgil’s gut clenched. Shit. “Thunderbird One’s status?”

“I’ve slaved her to Thunderbird Five for safety. Gale force winds are an issue and she has two rescuees aboard.”

“Scott’s status?”

“Vitals steady, but he appears to be trapped amongst a tangle of girders approximately one hundred and fifty metres above the ground. One of the rescuees is with him. The rescuee has a broken leg.”

Thunderbird Two shot over Indonesia, the blue sea interspersed by tropical green and white weather systems as they breached the equator.

“Weather conditions are still poor. Caution is recommended.” Virgil could hear the tension in John’s voice, despite its calm. One brother out of contact and sending another into the same situation definitely sat on John’s reasons to be tense list.

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Guam passed beneath them as they skirted the Philippine Sea. Gordon returned to the cockpit and took up his seat quietly. John briefed him equally as calmly and his younger brother swore. John threw up a hologram of the construction site showing Scott’s location, wind direction and speed, and Thunderbird One.

Virgil grit his teeth.

Ten minutes later Thunderbird Two hit Japanese air space and John was answering their queries in flawless Japanese. Virgil cut speed as they approached the storm whipping across Tokyo and grounding the majority of their air traffic. His ‘bird shook a little and then stabilised, her mass used to her advantage. He kicked in VTOL as they approached the site, killing off unneeded speed and coming to a hover a safe distance above the damaged building.

“Any response from Scott?”

“Nothing.” John’s voice was worried. “Vitals still strong.”

Unconscious or broken comms. One or the other. “I’m going down with the suit. Gordon, keep her in the air and stable. I have no wish to play George of the Jungle with any of those pylons.”

Gordon frowned. “George who?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Just keep her steady.”

“FAB.”

He could have taken the rescue rig, but the less dangling bits below his ‘bird, the better, so he stashed two spare harnesses, donned his exosuit and shot a zipline at a steep angle from the belly of his ‘bird. Carabiner engaged, he jumped.

It was hard and it was fast. But it had to be. The wind tore at him and it had started raining in sheets. His uniform was waterproof, but he had to work partly on instruments to see where the hell he was going and the metal girders were slick when he hit them, his boots sliding despite their specialised grip.

Scott and the rescuee were amongst a tangle of broken girders at the centre of the structure. John shot him integrity readouts and stress factors as he moved. The suit made it awkward and the ground was so far below in the falling rain, he couldn’t see it.

This could possibly be a good thing. One hundred and fifty metres was no small drop.

A cable hung from Thunderbird One and disappeared into a pile of wreckage to his right. It was a haunting sight.

C’mon, Scott, be okay.

It was more a demand than a plea.

The pile of girders was a nasty game of pickup sticks. Virgil was able to move them, but had little option for footing or angle and he was desperate to not cause any further collapse. John reassured him that there was no one below the structure, but it still seemed reckless to just let the spans of metal fall from this height, but then he had no real choice in the matter.

Five girders in and he found his brother first.

He was shoved up against a half-built wall by a single girder, pinning him there by the thruster pack on his back.

It was the only thing preventing the man from falling into the vast emptiness below.

Shit.

“Scott, can you hear me?” No response. “Scott!”

Nothing.

Damn.

Getting there to reach him was going to be a challenge. Calculations and a check with John...Virgil fired a grapple gun across the gap from where he was standing to the stable support on the other side. Securing it, he disengaged his support line to TB2 and clipped himself to the new line.

Gordon grumbled in his ear.

“I’ll be fine, Gordon. Besides, I have little choice.”

More muttering, which he ignored.

Releasing his arms from the suit, he let it take his weight and pulled himself across the gap.

The rain decided to increase and completely wash out his vision.

Goddamnit.

Reaching his brother, he linked in with the man’s harness to prevent him from falling and, with that, a small sigh of relief slipped between his teeth.

But still there was no response from Scott. “C’mon, Scott, give me a sign here.”

Nothing. He still hung limp.

Virgil wrapped his arms around his brother, bringing his helmeted head to lie on his shoulder, as he reached around to disengage the flight pack. A snap of fastenings and he let the pack drop, taking Scott’s weight in his arms. “Scott?”

Nothing.

“Gordon, I need an ascent line down here.”

“FAB.”

Thunderbird Two shifted position, his ‘bird moving to a hover far above Virgil. A line fed slowly down, wavering in the wind. “You’re going to have to catch it, Virg. I can’t get her any closer without a risk of influencing the structure.”

“I know.” The gale was definitely having its way and the rain brought his vision down to almost nothing. It took several attempts to grab the weighted line. Scott continued to hang limp in his grasp. God, he wished his brother would wake up. There was zero ability to do a medical assessment in these conditions. He had to get Scott up to TB2 and then return for the other man.

The wind gusted and spun him around. Damnit.

It took two attempts to fasten the line to his harness, but finally he was able to signal Gordon to pull them up. “I’m going to need you to secure Scott in the medbay. Ask John to slave TB2 to Thunderbird Five for the shortest time possible. I don’t trust these winds at all.”

As if to prove his point, a gust blew up and whipped them around, sending the brothers into a spin. A second gust grabbed them and threw them both side-on into a damaged girder. Virgil curled around his brother protecting him from hitting the jagged chunk of metal. Pain shot up his left side and he swore. Great, more bruises. He still hadn’t cleared up the last batch from the earthquake in New Zealand. Kay was going to glare at him again.

He pushed off from the structure and they continued their ascent. Being swallowed whole by his ‘bird was the most beautiful feeling. As the hatch closed beneath him, Gordon rushed up and helped him lower Scott and himself to the deck.

He handed his older brother gently over to his younger brother and the hover stretcher following behind him. “Check him out. Keep me updated.” Virgil grit his teeth, man, his side hurt. Damn wind. “Gotta go back down and grab the rescuee.”

With that, he opened the bay doors again, and securing himself, began another descent back down to the construction site.

-o-o-o-

The sudden engagement of powerful rocket thrusters woke Scott Tracy.

The sound was so sudden, so abrupt, he startled awake and sat up before he realised where he was. The world spun in circles to thank him. He clutched his head and found himself at war with his stomach.

Ugh.

Bile rose in his throat, its bitter taste foul. Shit.

“Don’t you be throwing up in here, the place stinks enough already.”

Huh?

Even with his eyes closed he had enough information to identify TB2’s infirmary. But who the hell was that?

He won the battle with his stomach, swallowing forcibly, but his head continued to pound and the world was anything but steady. Despite this, he squinted and opened his eyes.

Oh god.

A basin was shoved into his hands and he lost the war.

His head hated him even more, but at least his stomach shut up.

“Great. Now it really stinks. This is bloody outrageous. I could be feet up, breathing French air, but no, I get dragged halfway across the bloody planet stuck in this tin can with whiner and vomit boy.” Another voice said something unintelligible. “I swear I’m going to sue International Rescue to its knees.”

That had Scott paying attention despite his throbbing head. He opened his mouth to voice a retort, but was interrupted by a familiar voice on comms.

“Scott, how do you feel?” John.

Another attempt to open his eyes proved a little more successful and he found his brother’s hologram floating next to him.

“I-“

“Hey, you, glowboy. When the hell do I get let off this boat?”

John turned slowly and calmly in the direction of a rotund, formerly well-dressed man of European appearance. “Mr Polominka, you will be set down in Sydney as previously discussed as soon as our more urgent patients receive medical attention.”

“And how long will that be?”

Scott watched as his most patient brother frowned. “As long as it needs to be.”

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

John shrugged. “You could shut up. It would make this whole process much more peaceful.”

Being told to shut up apparently shocked the man into doing exactly that, the look of outrage on his face choked down whatever he had been going to say.

John ignored him and turned back to Scott. “How are you feeling?”

Scott grunted. “Been better.” A bitter swallow. Urgh. “Status?”

“We are approaching Nagoya. We have made arrangements to access hospital facilities there. The storm over Tokyo was making landing difficult so Virgil opted for the nearest major city.”

“Thunderbird One?”

“Gordon has her. On her way home.”

Hospital? He knew his brother. Virgil wouldn’t let him go home without seeing a doctor. Ugh. Almost as bad as fighting his stomach. He eyed the two other men in the room. “Rescuee status?”

“The two aboard TB1 have been delivered to Nagoya. The third has two broken legs and is sharing the infirmary with you. I have reassured him he is safe, however he is still distressed...and Mr Polominka is not helping the situation.”

“Me? You’re the one who kidnapped me!”

John ignored him. “Mr Polominka was rescued off his luxury yacht on a remote island in the South Pacific. We were returning him to Sydney when you encountered difficulties.”

“Returning? I don’t want to go to bloody Sydney. I said France, you asshole!”

While Scott’s blood turned as cold as his expression, John didn’t even bat an eyelid.” Mr Polominka, International Rescue is not a taxi service. You may disembark in Nagoya. Otherwise you will be delivered to the Australian authorities.”

“I don’t want to go to Japan anymore than I want to go to Australia. You will take me to France.”

If Scott’s head hadn’t been throbbing so hard, he would have given the man a piece of his mind. As it was, all he could do was groan.

“Mr Polominka, if you don’t sit down and shut up, you will be spending the rest of the voyage confined.”

“How dare you! I’m Richard Polominka, I own half the French seaboard. I could buy this ship and everyone on it.”

“Mr Polominka, I don’t care.”

John’s tone was so matter of fact, so dry, Scott knew his brother was moments away from calmly doing something permanent.

He opened his mouth to say something when Thunderbird Two’s VTOL kicked in and her forward momentum slowed. Scott grabbed the edge of his bed. The Japanese man groaned.

And Richard Polominka fell over, colliding with a cabinet.

“For Christ’s sake, you bastards don’t stop do you!”

Scott had had enough. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He held his head as the world swung in circles.

“Scott-“

Polominka floundered, grabbing at the cabinet, attempting to pull himself up, only to open the cabinet door and upend a pile of medical supplies on his head. He swore, grabbing shelves and only making more of a mess. Something heavy bounced off his head and his swearing increased in volume.

Scott pushed himself off the bed, knowing he was going to regret it. “Mr Polominka, please calm down.” The pilot found himself falling back against the bed. Vertical obviously wasn’t his body’s preferred orientation at the moment. The bile rose again.

Shit.

“Mr Polominka, please.”

The infirmary door flew open and Virgil strode in. “Scott? John said-“

Polominka took one look at Scott’s younger brother and pounced. “You! You’re the damned pilot of this hunk of junk.” He stuck a scalpel in Virgil’s face. “Take me home!”

Silence fell over the room, TB2’s VTOL a background roar. Virgil looked at the scalpel, then at Polominka. Calm as his orbiting brother, he said, “You haven’t met my girlfriend, have you, Dick?”

The man’s face actually turned red, and he charged the pilot. A brief tussle and Virgil flipped him onto the floor, pinned him, and was scrabbling through those scattered medical supplies, grabbing some tape and restraining the man. “Now, as my much more patient brother mentioned earlier, you can spend the rest of the trip to Australia confined. We don’t have a brig, but I’m sure I can find a closet.” And with that, Virgil dragged the man to his feet and through the door. The sound of footsteps, a creaking door and a satisfying slam.

Virgil reappeared, wiping his hands on his thighs. “So, Scott, how are you feeling?”

Scott stared at his brother. “Kayo?”

A shrug. “She felt I needed a little more hand to hand.”

“Not bad.”

“Necessary. You should have heard what he said to Gordon.” And Virgil’s anger became apparent. Much like Scott, you messed with Virgil’s brothers at your own peril. A deep breath and Virgil appeared to shake himself.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. You haven’t answered my question yet. John has Nagoya Air Control on hold, I need to get my ‘bird on the ground. You good?”

Scott frowned, his vision fuzzy at the edges. “‘Kay.”

“Say that without listing to one side and I might believe you. Lie down. I’ll get you some medical attention asap.” Scott found himself nudged back onto the bed, his head meeting the pillow before he could frame a retort. He reached out and grabbed Virgil, his fingers scraping against his brother’s uniform. “Virgil, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

John’s image flickered on. “Virgil!”

“Yes, Thunderbird Five?”

“Vitals say you’re injured.”

“What?”

Scott pushed himself up again, ignoring the vertigo. “Virgil...”

His brother was staring at him.

The rescuee in the other bed pointed at Virgil and babbled in Japanese. Scott looked down, his eyes widening at a slowly widening pool of blood at Virgil’s feet.

Virgil’s gaze followed his and stared. “Aw, hell.”

Scott scrambled off the bed and staggered over to his brother. Brown eyes looked up and grabbed his, a flash of fear followed by resignation. Virgil’s shoulders slumped. “Kay’s gonna kill me.”

Those brown irises rolled upwards and Virgil was falling forward.

-o-o-o-

End Part One

Part Two

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #virgil/kayo #whump #the bellini incident

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aalliedcarrentals · 5 years

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15 Best Things to Do in Mumbai

Mumbai had been well known for its busy lifestyles and the modern city culture on India. Home to about 20 million people, the city has long been a fascination and a dreamland for many. Lots of attractive places available in Mumbai. This city is indeed one of the worthiest explorations in India. You will have plenty of entertainment, authentic cuisines, and explicit cultures along with places that have great historical significance. You could always have a long list of things to do in Mumbai. Knowing them well will surely help in planning some absolutely successful trips.

Best things to do in Mumbai

You will, of course, want to have a perfect escape from your frustrating routine and reach out to place and experiences that could bring you peace, fun and great memories to keep. While you have numerous things to do and places to visit, it might get difficult to recognize what are the best experiences. Having an idea about these will let you take your trip to a better level. Here are some of them you may consider:

1. An evening at the Gateway of India

This is probably the most prominent landmark that represents Mumbai almost everywhere. Overlooking the Arabian Sea on one side and the royal Hotel Taj on the other; this yet another architectural marvel in India with considerable historical significance. The arch commemorates the visit of King George V and Queen Mary to India. The sea near the structure is generally occupied by vessels, trawlers, and yatches. When lighted up in the evening, the Gateway of India carries an explicit charm. You can also take up ferries to other islands from here.

2.Explore the caves at Elephanta Island

Situated in the Sea of Oman, the Elephanta Island and the island caves are very easily accessible to people in Western India. This place is home to all types of archeological elements and evidence that prove they are belonging to the 2nd Century. There are also various religious artifacts that are known to belong to the 5th and 6th century AD. The 7 meter statue of Lord Shiva is one of the most prominent fixtures here. There are also other structures that give a detailed description of seven other religious figures. It’s a worthwhile experience.

3. Taste the Mumbai special Vada Pav

All Mumbaikars would consider their routine incomplete without Vada Pav. It is one of the most affordable eateries available around to deal with hunger. Sold at every nook and corner of the city, this is indeed an interesting recipe. The basic idea behind this is bread bun stuffed with spiced potatoes and Indian flavored sausages. You’d love eating it.

4. Watch over the murals at Chapel Road

Within the sleepy alleys of old neighborhoods, you may come across several outstanding street arts. These include lifelike images of various Bollywood stars including Amitabh Bachchan, Madhubala, Dilip Kumar, and Rajesh Khanna glorifying the old street walls. There are also several cartoon murals that you would love watching.

5. Capture an elegant sunset at the Marine Drive

Often popular as the ‘Queen’s Necklace’ the Marine Drive is just a 15 minutes cab ride away from the Gateway of India. You can hire a rental car in Mumbai. It is known to be the cleanest and breeziest parts of India. The broad pavement along the driveway and also the broad wall is where many spend their nights sleeping. You may be able to capture some really tranquil views of the Arabian Sea and feel fresh. This is a perfect place to reach in the evening.

6. Catch up with the spiritual vibes at Siddhivinayak Temple

This temple is dedicated to Lord Ganesha, the ruling deity of the city. This temple has had great significance ever since its existence and is visited by the most popular and wealthiest families too. There are thousands of visitors here regularly. However, you may find more crowds on special religious occasions.

7.Castella-de-Aguada

With just a flight of a few stairs and two arches, this is the modest fort you will ever witness in your lifetime. Moreover, what makes it the most special is its location. This is one of the best places to gaze at the excellently laid Bandra Worli Sea Link. Visiting here would be one of the best things to do in Mumbai.

8. Shopping at the Chor Bazar

The Chor Bazar or “Thief Market” became popular for sale of theft goods. Also, this is how it got its name. Window shopping could be done well here even if you’re not into really buying anything. There are also several street food spots that would offer amazing dishes to savor.

9.Animal Spotting at Sanjay Gandhi National Park

Well, this is a national park situated right in the middle of the city with tigers and other wild species roaming and dwelling within its ambiance. The national park also has an entire cluster of ancient Buddhist caves named as the ‘Kanheri Caves’ within its borders. You could have a great day here.

10. Know the Sassoon Docks Fishermen

An early morning visit to Sasoon Docks will let you catch up with some amazing market scenes with fishermen in large numbers returning back with their fresh catch. This is where most of the popular restaurants get their stuff from. It could be a different way of exploring a place, knowing how the city functions regularly.

11. The Royal Opera House

The foundation of the Royal Opera House was known to be laid in the Colonial Era and holds on to several interesting historical events and secrets. There were further renovations and additions made to this building from time to time after 1911. It has been renovated and reopened in the year 2016 with all sorts of explicit entertainment for the Mumbaikars. A visit here would surely be worthwhile.

12.The Bohri Kitchen

If you’re fond of savoring new flavors, this restaurant could never be missed from your list. One among the most renowned and oldest settled restaurants, the Bohri Kitchen is also known to be visited by many prominent celebrities.

13. Iscon Temple

Situated very next to the Juhu Beach, this is one of the most prominent temples in India with a grand, elegant structure. Built over four acres of land this temple had been a considerable spiritual retreat for people.

14. Visit the Haji Ali Dargah

Situated 500 yards offshore in the Arabian Sea the Haji Ali Dargah is the tomb of the Muslim saint Pir Haji Ali Shah Bukhari. This is one of the most elegant and prominent religious places in Mumbai. The intricate Indo-Islamic architecture and glass work at the Dargah is absolutely worthwhile.

15. Colaba Causeway Market

This is one of the best shopping joints to be visited in Mumbai. The market offers with a wide collection of different ladies garments and accessories. Situated near the police headquarters in Southern Mumbai, this market should be visited at least once while you’re in Mumbai.

The list of interesting things to do in Mumbai would hardly come to an end.If you have any travel problem then you can book Tour and Travel in Mumbai. Moreover, the above-mentioned suggestions would surely help you plan some of the worthiest explorations in Mumbai.

#things to do in Mumbai #attractive places in mumbai #car rental #car rentals in pune

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belphegor1982 · 5 years

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Got tagged by @kikabennet!

when did you last sing to yourself?

Yesterday, since I’ve currently been awake for an hour and a half. Might have been either “Bonnie Portmore” or “Here’s a Health (To The Company)”. I’ve been putting a lot of shanties and pirates/sailing-related films soundtracks on to draw to (and hopefully write to) lately. (EDIT: Ooops - yep, wrote that yesterday around 11AM, so make that this afternoon; I hummed while I drew along with the first 3 Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks. It’s so darn hummable.)

if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Who was the Man in the Iron Mask!? (I know better than to ask personal/family truths :S Besides, I’m curious.)

(putting the rest under a cut...)

what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Being able to speak (mostly) and read/write English fluently.

what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

When my mum was in the hospital with my newborn baby sister, my dad would take me see them, and before that we’d stop for ice cream and a ride on the merry-go-round. That’s what comes to mind when I read “first happy memory”.

if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I’d go see my family and friends who live far away a lot more, and eat a lot more of my favourite things.

do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I don’t, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

describe a person close to your life in detail

The Best Beloved is tallish (1,77m - that’s… 5′10?), with dark brown hair, green eyes, skin that tans easily even in winter, and glasses. …and that’s as much detail as I’m comfortable putting.

do you feel you had a happy childhood?

On the whole, yes. Could’ve done without the bullying at school and the undermining of self-confidence at home, though.

when did you last cry in front of another person?

Don’t remember, so it must be at least a fortnight.

pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

My dad, who used to sail with a compass. I don’t think he knows much about constellations, but he’s always willing to share memories, even if sometimes he doesn’t remember he’s told them multiple times.

would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Probably. I shouldn’t, though. Strangers being by definition strangers, you never know where that information is going and how it might be used (possibly against you).

when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

We both were tired and ended up going to bed around half past midnight, so no 3AM conversation, but my friend Sandrine last week.

if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

…I have no idea? I think I’d concentrate really hard on not dying :S

what is your opinion on brown eyes?

Why would it matter tho I have brown eyes and for the longest time I thought they were boring. It doesn’t help that brown hair and eyes are basically the default where I grew up/live. Then I grew up and moved on.

pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

George Bernard Shaw’s “Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.” Life is complicated, all about balance between extremes and absolutes. Don’t trust people who tell you the world is grim and serious just because they are. And while getting the giggles at a funeral/wake is inappropriate, it doesn’t mean you’re heartless.

what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

Wait, What

what would you do with one billion dollars?

I’d keep half a dozen millions for me (car and house debts), my family and my friends, and give the rest to social services, healthcare, and public services in general.

are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

Ehhh… It’s complicated. I tend to hold grudges when I can remember why, but I rarely do something about it. On the whole I’m pretty “live and let live”.

would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Neither, really. I’m too soft for punk, but pastel’s not really my thing either.

how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain

I’m too much of a wuss to even consider getting either, but they look great on other people. When I get a spot on my tongue I wonder how people with a tongue piercing manage to keep it, though. It’s very distracting.

do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

As a rule, no, but if I work or if I’m invited somewhere I’ll throw on a bit of eyeliner and lipstick. (I should raid my makeup drawer, really, some of my lipstick cases are almost 20 years old and you should NOT do that.)

talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way

In high school I saw a psychologist (junior high was NOT a happy time and the bad stuff just overflowed at one point) and went to an outpatient clinic every Wednesday. They had lots of activities, like painting on silk, various art stuff, and a band, and I loved that band. I was one of the only ones who’d request songs to sing in English. The guitarist introduced me to the Beatles’ “Something”, which I didn’t know, and to this day when I hear this lovely song I think of that guy who had a great smile, a great sense of humour and a great moustache (think George Harrison on Let It Be) who helped me get better.

list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel

Not to brag, but back in my uni days I did go to a number of them - K’s Choice, Coldplay, King Khan And His Shrines, M, Tom McRae are among the ones I remember. And a couple months ago I went to a rock concert with three bands one after the other. I love live music, it feels amazing. It courses through my body, makes me grin like a maniac, and want to jump and flail around just to vent the excess energy. And all this without a single drop of beer! (can’t stand the stuff :P)

who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I’d love a letter from the national loto that says “here’s a giant check even though you haven’t scratched a ticket in years” :P More seriously, I LOVE receiving letters from my Internet friends.

do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I don’t really have a workspace. I have a desk, which has the desktop screen, keyboard, mouse/graphic tablet, and a whole lot of mess of papers, pens, boxes, and stuff. I can use either that desk or my laptop in my armchair.

what is your night time routine?

Finish watching the movie/tv show, look at Tumblr a bit (and/or stuff on the laptop, like TV Tropes), go to bed, read a bit on my Kindle, kiss the Best Beloved good night, switch off the lights, and try to sleep.

what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Anything about my intimate life, thanks.

if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I experimented a bit with henna back in the day, but generally I just have haircuts (I have too little hair to risk harming it). I’d like some reddish highlights one day, though.

pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Eehhh... I’d rather stay at home and chill :P Okay, I’d take the Best Beloved and my friends Melody, Nico, Sandrine, and Aldric, and head to Marquèze. (wish their website had an English version, it’d be better.) It’s an ecomuseum about local life in the early 1800s/early 1900s, with preserved traditional houses and people showing skills like dyeing fabric, shepherding, making flour (there’s a watermill) and all sorts of cakes and bread and snacks, and an entire day isn’t too much to visit everything.

name three wishes and why you wish for them

I wish:

I had a decently-paying job from home,

my friend Sandrine’s mum were/will be all right (don’t ask),

we had the house extension built already

what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up

We didn’t have Halloween when I was growing up, it really only started to be a thing in earnest a decade or two ago. Although... One time when we lived in Bordeaux, the Best Beloved and I were invited to a housewarming party on Halloween, so people would wear costumes. I went as a witch, with a long black skirt, long-sleeve thing with black lace (-ish), long black and white wig, and of course black lipstick and lots of black around the eyes. The Best Beloved had made a cloak, a scythe of sorts with cardboard and foil, and had a scary death head mask on. We didn’t have a car and the friend lived in Saint-Médard (which is relevant), so we had to ask around the bus drivers for which bus went there.

So picture the two of us dressed as we were, mask and all, well after dark, asking around for the “S&M” bus. Yep :P (People stared at us during the ride, and unlike the Best Beloved, I didn’t have the luxury of a mask to hide my laughter...)

what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

The only time I got slightly tipsy I went a little pink and apparently talked a little louder than usual. I’ve never got drunk (too afraid of stomachache later) or high (it took my mum two heart attacks to quit smoking and I’m wondering if she hasn’t taken it up again, I can’t hold a cigarette, tobacco or otherwise).

what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Hurt people, probably. If I wouldn’t do it for ten dollars I wouldn’t do it for a million - if you agree to one or the other the rest is just haggling over price.

if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

I don’t think I have the right face shape for that - my face is too round, longer hair suits me better.

what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I live 126 km (78 miles) from the nearest Starbucks, when I walk by one the queue is huge, and the prices are well beyond my range :> But I’d trust the Best Beloved. He’d still ask me, though.

what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Being happy and/or stress-free. Also the oncoming Papa Bear Awards nominations in a week and the Eurovision Song Context coming up in May :D

Tagging @radarsteddybear, @rose-of-pollux, @truxi-twice, @myrling-art, @iorvethscommando, and @toooldforthisbutstill! :o)

#about me

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