back in the country

Wherever You Take Me

Reposting because college AUs seem to be the go at the moment and sometimes being in the future means missing out on the peaks. Sorry if you’ve read this already.

This was written as a 60 minute word vomit over the weekend inspired by a chat over on @lepus-arcticus blog about what music Mulder and Scully might have listened to when they were younger. It’s set in Glastonbury in 1984. It’s total AU fluff. But it took me back to my youth and to my country of birth. 

She sunk down behind the tee-pee and scraped the crust off the bottom of her sandals. Joan Baez was singing Diamonds and Rust and she knew Missy would be swaying along.

             “I don’t know about you, but I’m waiting for Billy Bragg.”

             She turned towards him. “I saw two shooting stars last night, I wished on them but they were only satellites.”

             He sat in front of her, long feet sticking out from under his ripped denim hems. He chewed on a blade of grass. “I don’t want to change the world, I’m not looking for a new England.”

             The first drops of rain fell from the brooding sky. “What are you looking for?” She felt the breath hitch in her chest, a symptom of her startling boldness. Missy would be grinning so hard if she could see her little sister exchanging song lyrics and bad pick-up lines with a dark and moody fellow American.

             “Someone to wash the mud out of my clothes and work out what the hell I was thinking when I agreed to come to a field in the middle of Somerset to camp and eat out of cans. They don’t even do S’mores. It’s practically prehistoric here.”

             “I’ve got Graham crackers in my tent and there’s plenty of chocolate,” she said. “If you can find some marshmallows, perhaps we can have a real American campfire.”

             “Don’t you have plans…I don’t know your name.”

             She lifted her arm towards the stage behind her. “My sister’s fallen in love for the third time in two days. She won’t remember that she promised to cook dinner tonight. I’m Dana.”

              He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Mulder.” Energy fizzed through her veins. His smile was a memory-maker. His fringe flopped into his eyes and dark stubble defined his strong jaw. Those lips, the unreadable eyes, she felt herself blushing as he held her gaze. “My on-again, off-again girlfriend is off-again, on-again with her other boyfriend. So, I would be honoured to share my tin of Heinz baked beans with you. I even have cheese – real West Country cheddar to melt on the top. If you like that kind of thing.”

             She thought she might.

“Do you like the Smiths, Dana?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard anything they’ve sung.”

“If you want something to do after baked beans, they’re on. We can go wherever we please and everything depends on how near you stand to me.” His voice was golden-gravel.

“Sorry?” she whispered.

And if the people stare, then the people stare, Oh, I really don’t know and I really don’t care. Lyrics from hand in glove. Johnny Marr and Morrissey are poets. Their words really resonate with me, you know?” He bumped his fist against his heart and looked away to the rolling clouds. “England is a paradox, isn’t it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Polite and clever, proud but humble, clever but contained, pretty in a way like no other, she’s the ideal woman; but she’s surrounded by a bitter sea and constantly battling the demons of tradition. She is both a queen and a princess. She’s history and charm and hope and hell.”

“Are you talking about your girlfriend or this country?”

He twisted the blade of grass in his fingers and laughed. “Sometimes, I’m not sure but I am certain that you’ll love the Smiths so I’d be honoured if you’d join me. Your sister might fall out of love and be in need of some poetic metaphor to mourn to tonight.”

She put her sandals back on and stood up, feeling small in his presence. “My sister won’t spend too much time mourning. She bounces back pretty quickly.”

“Resilience is a great quality.” He put a hand on the small of her back. “What do you do, Dana?”

“I’m at medical school, what about you?”

“I’m at Oxford, psychology.”

“And yet you don’t know why you’re here?”

His face softened. “I think I’m escaping.”

A couple wandered past, entwined and giggling. They stumbled into a tent a few spots down. The canvas shuddered. Then they scrambled out, laughing even louder. “I think that’s what most people here are doing. The aroma is always…somewhat…escapist.”

He laughed again. “I think there is a natural tendency for dreaming and fantasising about a way of life that is totally different to our own, don’t you think? I mean, when I look at the stars I wonder what’s out there. Who’s out there.”

“I think about energy requirements and asteroids and black holes.”

His mouth curved. “You don’t believe?”

“In what?”

“Life outside of earth?”

She shook her head. “Life on this planet is hard enough to cope with, don’t you think?”

Turning, he crawled into his tent and from the darkened inside, beckoned to her. “I’d like to show you something.”

Missy would have cackled at that one, but his face seemed so genuine, his eyes held such intelligence, that she got up and walked after him. He was rifling through a bag and she looked around the tent, luggage spilling out clothes, books piled high. He turned around and showed her a photo. In it, a boy and girl were smiling to the camera.

“Me and my sister. She was taken, when she was eight and I was twelve.”

“Taken?” Her heart pounded and she ran a finger over the image. A grainy shot of a girl who was no longer in his life. A child, disappeared. But here, in this photo, always smiling. Always reminding him of her existence. Kept in perfect innocence by a chain-reaction of chemicals on paper.

“You asked me earlier why I was here, why I’m escaping? She’s why.”

He offered her a beer and she took it. They listened to the muffled music as he cooked her beans with West Country cheddar. He chatted about his sister, the fateful night, the emotional fall-out, his parents’ relationship. She talked about her sister and brothers, wanting to make her father proud, her hopes and dreams.

The beer was warm but making her ears tingle and her skin buzz. He lit up a joint and they shared it. “Marriage and babies and a white picket fences? That surprises me, Dana.”


“You seem cut out of a different cloth. I don’t know,” he rubbed his face and inhaled. “This is going to sound all wrong, but I think you are here to do something extraordinary in the world.”

She let out a surprised giggle. “Like what?”

He leant in and she could smell his cologne, the weed, his maleness. Turning, their lips caught and he tasted the same, of musk and possibilities. When he pulled back he had a strange smile on his face. “Like you’re going to mean something to someone, like you’re going to be the one soul that will help this person to truly live, like you’re going to be powerful in an unexpected way.”

Their lips joined again and he pulled her hard towards him. The music was lifting outside and voices rumbled by, singing, laughing, shouting. He pulled her to the sleeping mat, covered in a blue sleeping bag.

She bit her lip. “What about your girlfriend?”


“What about the Smiths?”

“I predict that 1984 is just the start of their journey. We’ll see more of them.”

His hands were already tugging at her top and she sighed out, giving in to the pure joy of her heightened state.

“Where are you going, Mulder? On your journey?”

His hands grazed her nipples and his teeth brushed her neck. She didn’t really want to hear his answer. She wanted to experience it. After a while, he pulled back and grinned.

“Wherever you take me, Dana.”

Okay, like, I’m about to go on a rant here. So there I was watching a local (Malaysian, because I live in Malaysia) celebrity of sorts (who wears a hijab and is Muslim btw) doing a live feed on her Instagram talking about her weekly Top 5 fav things and can I just say that after a while a few RANDOM Trump supporters (I checked their accounts) tuned into the feed & started leaving random racist comments on the feed??? like “go back to your country” and calling her a “raghead” and even said “Goat urine has done wonders to your face” when she started talking about skincare products… LIKE HELLO THIS WOMAN DOESNT EVEN LIVE IN AMERICA. She speaks good English and these idiots assumed she lives in America? NOPE. She lives in Malaysia where Islam is the norm and Islamaphobia doesn’t exist and thank all that is good in the world we don’t have Trump for our president (even though our PM isn’t the best).

:) I’m incensed at the audacity of these vulgar people. Sorry not sorry for the rant.

anonymous asked:

Hey, do you have any ideas for a story that has the mc hiding he's the king of the country?

(Sure thing, I came up with a couple - might think of more once I’m not as sleep deprived. Airplane turbulence sucks.)

  • Person A is a ruler of their country, but hears about a meeting place/tavern where people gather and discuss ideas, which Person A’s advisors say threaten their reign. Person A decides to go undercover as a commoner to visit the tavern and meets Person B, who speaks ill of the ruler – but only due to the ruler’s ignorance, and talks of change and “if only our words could reach the ruler’s ears.” The entire experience is eye opening for Person A, who chooses to keep coming back in disguise.
  • Person A is the ruler of their country and often goes out to meet their illegitimate child in disguise out of fear that their child will be targeted by different groups if they are exposed as Person A’s biological child. The other parent wishes Person A would stay away, due to Person A’s even sneaking out and visiting them both to be a risk to both Person A and their child.
  • Person A’s the ruler of their country and never really grew up, having a sense of youthful rebellion still in them, and likes to sneak out of the palace and go around the nearby villages. One day, Person A is attacked by bandits and manages to win the bandits over and get them to spare their life. But now the bandits expect Person A to join them and, since Person A knows about them, they’ll kill Person A if they try to leave.
  • Person A likes to go out and listen to the gossip at taverns in disguise, despite being ruler of their country, and overhears a plot of someone planning to assassinate them, only they only heard a tidbit, and can’t locate the speaker, leaving them left with little knowledge except that someone will try to kill them in the future.
  • Person A has been convinced by a friend to slip out of the castle for a bit and live a day among the commoners, in disguise, since Person A is the ruler. Only the day goes horribly wrong when they are held hostage with a group of other commoners in an act of terrorism – and the perpetrators demand to speak to the ruler of the country directly to negotiate.

as a kid I watched her all the time and she was like my biggest idol and I’d say I wanted to be Miley when I’d grow up and now my 13 years old self (I’m 21 now) would be so damn proud now to read this billboard interview, how she decided to give up drugs and smoking and take herself seriously and use her talent right. best of luck for her, so happy to see someone with good heart back on right track, you know what they say life is the climb but the view is great, there’s ups and downs, but you will always find your way back home, welcome back, Miles ;) xx 


Ring! Ring! Sehun is calling! ヾ(〃^∇^)ノ♪

when u see ppl saying they miss exo after seeing them in concert 400 times but the closest you’ve ever been to an exo concert is watching a periscope livestream that looks like its being filmed with a calculator

What better place to relax than Easy Chair Crater in Nevada? Located along Lunar Crater National Back Country Byway, Easy Chair Crater doesn’t have anything to do with the moon. It’s origins lie deep within the Earth. Formed by a cinder cone volcano, it is littered with evidence of its violent past – cooled lava bombs and volcanic crystals. Photo by Chip Caroon, Bureau of Land Management (@mypubliclands).


Something really bad happened. Today at 5:00 A.M. a group of 4 men forced the entrance to our house. They beat up my mom and older sister (they were trying to protect me and to protect my 1-year-old niece). They had guns and, for a moment, I thought they were going to kill us. They stole everything from us. They stole my laptop, our cellphones, food, money. They even stole my little niece’s clothes :(

We went to the hospital to check if my mom and sister were ok. I paid for the hospital bill and bought a little bit of food but I don’t have any money left. I don’t know what to do. I still need to buy more food and to buy clothes for my little niece. I’m the only one with a job right now but, sadly, my salary isn’t enough to pay for everything.

Please, if you can, and are willing to help me, you could send a few dollars trough paypal. E-Mail: (My best friend e-mail. She’s the one helping me right now).

I’m desperate.  EVEN A DOLLAR IS A LOT TO ME. Or you could help me just by reblogging this post.

I’m crying so hard. I feel angry and sad. How can a person do this to another person? I feel embarrassed too, and I’m so sorry that I’m asking for your help but I don’t really know what to do. I need to help my family. I’m really sorry guys…


But you couldn’t help it, could you? Because in your heart of hearts, like Barclay and Delahay and Fowler and Menzies, you still believe, in spite of your talk of equality and fraternity, you still believe some people are better than others because of the way they make love. Now, think of that for a lifetime. Think of the names: pansy, nancy, fairy, fruit, brown-nose.


“You know, you don’t get to decide what I am.”

Sarah // my favourite new character from Season 2 of The Man in the High Castle (I love her and am always here for more badass resistance ladies! \o/)