Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; – and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!
◇ pairing: taehyung | reader ◇ genre: fluff and soft angst ◇ word count: 20.409 ◇ warnings: none ◇ author’s note: thisstory involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :)
Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.
It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.
Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.
“White House Sends Jared Kushner To Meet With Top Senators On Improving The Criminal Justice System,” BuzzFeed.
‘Jared Kushner, son-in-law and senior adviser to President Donald Trump, has been dispatched by the White House to discuss criminal justice reform issues with key senators, BuzzFeed News has learned. Kushner met with Sens. Chuck Grassley and Dick Durbin on Capitol Hill Thursday.’
Again, let’s just stop for a second and consider the fact that the person described by himself as “first among equals” in the White House has been given the lead on U.S. relations with Canada, Mexico, China and the Middle East, has also been asked to run a White House Office of American Innovation, and will now also apparently be running point on improving the criminal justice system. This is a person whose prior background suggests no particular competence in any of these areas of government. His only qualification for White House service appears to be that he married well.
Kushner is barely old enough to run for president, has no experience in public service, has never shown any interest in public service, and is set to make decisions and influence policies that will affect all Americans.
Standing at the top of a hill in a forested area near the centre of Volterra, Italy, stands this decaying psychiatric hospital. Once housing over 6,000 patients, this building now contains only empty beds, abandoned wheelchairs, and graffiti. It was once dubbed “the place of no return” because it was said that once you were sent to Ospedale Psichiatrico di Volterra, you never returned home.
It was rife with physical and mental abuse and was infamous for its use of electroshock therapy as well as the grim practice of inducement of comas with insulin. Patients were often sedated, isolated from others and frequently chained to their beds. Patients would also be forced to spend prolonged periods of times in freezing cold baths. Letters and gifts from the patient’s family members on the outside were confiscated so that the patients had a true sense of isolation.
It was eventually closed down in 1978 after the practices used within the walls were deemed as cruel.
I live in Tuscarawas county in Ohio, and just outside my town in the middle of the woods on the top of a hill is a tiny fenced in graveyard no bigger than a small house. There are several graves in the graveyard, but towards the back is a black grave with no marker (an image can be found here). They say a warlock who made a pact with the devil is buried there, and to keep him from rising from the grave his head was separated from his body and secured into the black stone of his grave. However, they say every year his head inches closer and closer to his body until he can rise from the grave. The place has been called The Warlock’s Grave for over 100 years.
This is for the Nonny who wanted to share how much they wanted refugees to die somewhere else, but wasn’t brave enough to put their name on their hate, and everyone else who might think they’re Good People but that charity only goes so far….
Shared from a friend:
From my friend Karen Gillmore:
Now about that meme going around —I won’t share the image, but it says:
“Not takin’ in Syrian refugees and closin’ our borders isn’t "mean” or
“heartless”. I lock my doors to my house every night. I don’t lock my
doors because I hate the people outside my house. I lock them because I
love the people inside my house.“
This meme set the hackles up on the back of my neck, and I couldn’t
quite say why. But here’s an analysis from one Frank GT (no, I don’t
know who he is, this is a copy-n-paste) that gets to the heart of why
that meme bothers me:
"I can’t sit back and say nothing as more and
more people share this. I’m beginning to believe that the problem is
more intellectual than ideological. When you can’t form a simple
analogy, or identify an analogy that simply doesn’t work, you’re not a
racist. You’re an idiot.
For this analogy to work, you’d have to add
that Syrian refugees also live in a house, but their house is on fire.
They’re trapped and they have nowhere to go. If they want to escape,
they need to run through the fire, or jump out the window. They need to
bring their children with them too. So they risk it. Some get killed,
some get burned, some get lucky. They escape the house. They can see
your house in the distance. Your house is perfectly safe, far from the
fire, but it’s at the top of a steep hill, too steep for some. The
journey is long and hard, but they risk it. Some die of dehydration,
some starve to death, but some get lucky. They arrive at your porch.
They take one look back at the inferno they left behind, then they
breathe a sigh of relief. There’s a knock at your door. You look through
the window. You see them, and they see you. They’re hungry, broken,
desperate. They have nothing to give, as they’ve lost everything. You
take a look at your family. They’re cuddled under a blanket on the
couch. They’re safe and warm, their bellies are full. You look back out
the window. You lock eyes with one of the refugees. You open your
window. The refugees smile. They think they’ve made it. The infamous
house on top of the hill. You proceed to flip them off and tell them to
go back where they came from. They’re shocked. You close the window, and
rejoin your family on the couch. You feel good about yourself. You
shouldn’t, because that is the very definition of mean and heartless.
President Trump has a new, revised executive order which bans travelers from six Muslim-majority countries from getting new visas. It won’t affect current visa holders and unlike the previous ban, it excludes citizens of Iraq. The executive order will be phased in over the next two weeks. (NYT)(WP)(ATL)(Raw Executive Order- White House)
The Supreme Court decided to not hear the case regarding transgender bathroom rights after the White House’s reversal of position, even though they agreed in October to hear the case. (NYT)(CNN)(WP)
House Republicans released the Affordable Care Act replacement bill called the American Health Care Act. The bill replaces federal insurance subsidies with a new form of individual tax credits and grants to help states shape their own policies. The bill would also allow insurers a charge on people if they have had a gap in their health coverage. The GOP bill also includes a provision to strip all federal funding for Planned Parenthood. (view bill)(WP)(CNN)(FOX)(NYT)
Today Ben Carson made some of his first remarks to Housing and Urban Development. “That’s what America is about. A land of dreams and opportunity. There were other immigrants who came here in the bottom of slave ships, worked even longer, even harder for less,“. This comment, which compares slaves to immigrants, has been criticized by numerous members of the Black community as well as the NAACP. (WP)(HILL)(FOX)
Four Atlanta mosques receive death threats. They received a note that said, “Death is waiting for you and your kind” and included a hand-drawn picture of someone being beheaded. (CNN)(AJC)
There’s growing evidence that a landmark flat-topped hill in Dumfriesshire was the site of the first major battle of the Roman invasion of Scotland.
By Willie Johnston, 26 August 2016.
“Archaeologists have been trying for 300 years to assess the role of Burnswark in the Roman occupation.New excavations suggest the truth is more bloody than had been thought up to now. Burnswark rises a thousand feet from the Solway plain and is clearly visible from miles around.On its summit the remains of a native hill fort. On the north and south slopes, two huge Roman camps capable of housing 6,000 soldiers or more. But what went on here?
One theory is that the Romans used the abandoned fort to train their men in weaponry - an early firing range. Another suggests that the fort was still occupied by local tribes people and came under prolonged siege to starve them out.
But new evidence points to a third - much bloodier - version of events. Lead archaeologist Andrew Nicholson believes it was the first assault in the Roman invasion of Scotland around 140 AD. "What this probably is, is the start of the Antonine push from Hadrian’s Wall, conquering all of southern Scotland,“ he said. "After the emperor Hadrian has died the new emperor Antoninus Pius needs a victory as the incoming emperor.
"Southern Scotland is beyond the wall, beyond the borders, it is barbarian and Burnswark and the rest of Annandale and everywhere south of the Forth-Clyde line is its intended target." A two-week dig last summer is being following by another now. “I would suspect that probably nobody survived this and the Roman army moved on into the rest of Scotland.” - John Reid, Trimontium Trust.
Using metal detectors it has been found that massive amounts of lead-shot were fired at the fort - and not in a way indicating target practice. More evidence is the known presence of a general Lollius Urbicus brought here from the Middle East to do the emperor’s dirty work. John Reid of the Roman Heritage group the Trimontium Trust says Urbicus had "previous”. "He made his name in the Jewish war which had taken place in Israel in the previous four years where they had literally gone through the whole of Judea taking hill forts one after the other,“ he said.
"He was given the job of taking Scotland, we know that from Roman literary sources. "So he was here and this is where they blood their troops." It seems very clear they meant business. Many of the lead bullets found at Burnswark have identical 4mm holes in them which, initially, was a mystery. John Reid went to Germany to consult an expert in sling shot ballistics, Joerg Sprave.
And the effect of the hole became obvious when replicas were made and fired.
"You’d hear this screeching noise that you’ve never heard before or experienced before in your life,” explained Mr Nicholson. "What sort of unearthly spirits are these dreadful Romans conjuring up to assail you with amongst all their missiles? "I hear this keening sound through the air and the chap with the spear next to me drops dead and I wonder what on earth is doing it. I’d be utterly terrified.“
So, the personnel involved and the quantity and type of slingshot used suggests complete overkill against a weaker, poorly-armed enemy. "The Romans were well recognised for what is called exemplary violence,” said Mr Reid. "These people literally did suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
“This literally is a site where people suffered an attrition to the very end and I would suspect that probably nobody survived this and the Roman army moved on into the rest of Scotland." More work will be required to prove this new theory definitively and that’s planned in the years ahead. But those involved here are confident that - in police slang - they’ve got the Romans bang to rights.”
From this side of the house I could see dimly through the rain the outline of a rocky, grass-topped hill in the distance. It reminded me of the fairies’ dun where I had stepped through a rock and emerged from a rabbit hole. Only six months. But it seemed like a very long time ago.
Jamie had come to stand beside me at the window. Staring absently out at the driving rain, he said, “There was another reason. The main one.”
“Reason?” I said stupidly.
“Why I married you.”
“Which was?” I don’t know what I expected him to say, perhaps some further revelation of his family’s contorted affairs. What he did say was more of a shock, in its way.
“Because I wanted you.” He turned from the window to face me. “More than I ever wanted anything in my life,” he added softly.
I continued staring at him, dumbstruck. Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn’t this. Seeing my openmouthed expression, he continued lightly. “When I asked my Da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I’d have no doubt. And I didn’t. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, ‘Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.’ ”
I started toward him, and he backed away, talking rapidly. “I said to myself, ‘She’s mended ye twice in as many hours, me lad; life amongst the MacKenzies being what it is, it might be as well to wed a woman as can stanch a wound and set broken bones.’ And I said to myself, ‘Jamie, lad, if her touch feels so bonny on your collarbone, imagine what it might feel like lower down …’ ”
He dodged around a chair. “Of course, I thought it might ha’ just been the effects of spending four months in a monastery, without benefit of female companionship, but then that ride through the dark together”— he paused to sigh theatrically, neatly evading my grab at his sleeve—“ with that lovely broad arse wedged between my thighs”— he ducked a blow aimed at his left ear and sidestepped, getting a low table between us—“ and that rock-solid head thumping me in the chest”— a small metal ornament bounced off his own head and went clanging to the floor—“ I said to myself …”
He was laughing so hard at this point that he had to gasp for breath between phrases. “Jamie … I said … for all she’s a Sassenach bitch … with a tongue like an adder’s … with a bum like that … what does it matter if she’s a f-face like a sh-sh-sheep?”
I tripped him neatly and landed on his stomach with both knees as he hit the floor with a crash that shook the house.
“You mean to tell me that you married me out of love?” I demanded. He raised his eyebrows, struggling to draw in breath.
“Have I not … just been … saying so?”
Grabbing me round the shoulders with one arm, he wormed the other hand under my skirt and proceeded to inflict a series of merciless pinches on that part of my anatomy he had just been praising.
An Excerpt from Elsewhere University's Student Accommodation Guide, Accurate to Term Beginning September 20XX
(Handwritten RA’s notes in parentheses)
Mid-20th century brick apartment towers, divided into Pelham, McGonagall, Byron, and Bulwer-Lytton. Despite rising to 14 storeys, they have no iron rebar frames supporting them internally, leading many students to say they can feel the Towers sway in high winds. While this is not true, they definitely have the finest views on campus, being situated on the top of The Hill. The Towers have ample kitchen space, but prospective students should be reminded of their thin walls and thin floors. They are regarded as the “party” flats, and many second and third year students will say if a bad decision is going to be made on a night out, the odds are good it will happen in the Towers.
(No one remembers inviting the slim boy with slicked-back blonde hair, but he brought rum and an electric personality and makes himself welcome. He suggests a drinking game none of you have heard of, and only you remember never to play a game whose rules you do not understand. Your friends are not so fortunate)
Built in an unusual art-deco architectural style, the ziggurat is officially known as the Carnarvon Memorial Building, and dates back to the mid-1920s. The outward-facing rooms have large windows and are generally well-lit, but rooms further into the interior have no windows at all. Despite pre-dating air conditioning, students report that the rooms at the heart of the Ziggurat remain cool even in the height of summer. Thick walls and shag carpets also make the Ziggurat among the quietest of on-campus accommodation, which many more studious undergraduates consider a bonus.
(She finds sand in her shoes all year round, but at least her food never spoils. An undergrad swears she sees a falcon roost outside her room every day at sunrise. A label on a box of leftovers reads “Whoever opens me without consent, there will be judgement, an end shall be made for him. I shall seize his neck like a bird… I shall cast the fear of myself into him”. Every assumes it is a joke, until the seal is broken.)
The Chinese House
A quaint piece of 19th century Orientalism, and the last survivor of an eccentric effort to build an international students village using architectural styles from all over the world. Most were demolished between the expansion of the football field, the construction of the Michelson-Morley building, and a terrible fire in the mid-20th century that destroyed the Dutch farmhouse. Despite an ongoing and heated debate among the student population over whether or not the building’s styling and history make it an unfortunate racist relic or an architectural piece worthy of preservation, the Chinese House’s residents report that it is pleasant and homely. Regardless of nationality or religion, residents are advised to participate in the Mid-Autumn Festival arranged by the Chinese House Residents’ Assistants, as a matter of etiquette.
(Every year, room 5B is taken by an Asian student with dark hair who keeps a rabbit. No one tells security, even though pets are not allowed in campus accommodation. Impolite questions about where she is from are met with a patient smile, and a gentle reminder that an American flag flies over her home)
A modest Victorian building with en-suite rooms and upholstery faithful to the original. The Accommodation Office must deny absolutely any and all claims that it is a re-purposed insane asylum, including rumours that rooms 2A-2F still have padded walls, or that the 3rd floor rooms have locks on the outside of the doors, as these are baseless and harmful claims which do no justice to the building’s proud traditions. We must remind would-be applicants that the continued existence of Dadd House is due to a very generous grant provided by an anonymous donor, with the proviso that the House is reserved for those majoring in Fine Art, Art History, Music, Music Theory, Ceramics, and Animation. Exceptions cannot be made for those studying Liberal Arts.
(Her music only improves during her residency, filling the dark, sad halls of the house with beautiful sound. He paints great swirls of colour over his canvas, over the walls, over the floor. Her mind is alive with poetry, and she finds herself speaking in hexameter. What had been normal motions startle her as she catches smear frames in the corner of her eye. A group of non-students stroll through the tiled corridors, golden eyes flicking from one delight to the next, furred ears twitching. They discuss who they shall give their ultimate patronage to, as gardeners would discuss which plants to nurture, and which to prune)
An early 21st century addition to the campus, this is one of the more divisive accommodation buildings in recent years, and has been voted “Ugliest Campus Accommodation” in a National Students’ Union poll every year since its construction. Certainly its garish colours and incongruous position next to the venerable Morganwg Building make it stand out, but it is worth remembering that the Morganwg itself was once denigrated as “Gothic” in its day. The layout of the corridors may seem counter-intuitive at first, but students are sure to adapt to it quickly with help of Residents’ Assistants (known colloquially as “Pathfinders” in the Square). Due to a certain proportion of permanent residents, space at Elsewhere Square is limited, but rooms are en suite, and its position is convenient for all campus locations.
(At every junction and intersections, we carve symbols into the wall, and the freshers quickly learn their meanings. You have gone too far, they say, turn back and do not continue. Your rooms are behind you, and you are in unfriendly territory. The unwise head deeper into the building, finding corridors which narrow abruptly into squeeze-bys and stairs which descend below the ground floor. The corridors beyond warp as cheap plasterboard gives way to bare limestone rock, forcing those who descend to twist and contort themselves to pass. No one has ever failed to return from the depths of Elsewhere Square, but no one who ventures there returns unchanged)
A rare survivor from Elsewhere University’s earliest days, this Romantic-styled house lies on the edge of campus between the Lake and the playing fields, offering pleasant verdant surroundings and easy access to the Sports Centrer for students in sports science courses. The Residents’ Assistants run a lively calendar of events, including socials at the spring and autumn equinox, as well as the summer and winter solstice fairs, as well as a poetry competition in the first week of August. The nearby forests are private property of the Dean’s House, and the Accommodation Office must stress in the strongest language the need for students to stay out of the forest, on pain of expulsion and a permanent mark against their academic record.
(The sports societies love Samhain. They spend all night cheering, drinking to excess, dancing around the ceremonial bonfire that campus security tacitly agrees to ignore. One of the RA’s wears a pair of stag’s antlers, and in the darkness you have a fanciful moment where you imagine they are sprouting directly from his head. Then two drunken members of the girl’s rugby team stumble into the forest together, and a carynx horn bellows through the night. Everyone is inside by the time they hear the thundering of hooves and the baying of the black dogs)
Your RA Suggests:
Residents are requested to keep communal spaces (such as kitchens and bathrooms) clean and tidy, although everyone makes an exception for salt spills.
We suggest you bring only cast iron kitchenware to Elsewhere University. If you can’t get any prior to arrival, remember that the Accommodation Office holds a Lost and Found sale during Fresher’s Week.
While Elsewhere University Campus Security prides itself on its effectiveness, the Accommodation Office must formally issue a warning to all students to avoid unfamiliar individuals, particularly at night and during periods of lunar occlusion. Watch your friends closely.
Campus traditions may seem quaint to you, but it is worth remembering that what appears to be random superstition to you represents hard-won knowledge for others. If you don’t want to participate in seriousness, then at least participate with a sense of fun.
Most importantly, remember that your accommodation is your home, and you should never feel out of place or uncomfortable in your own home.
(Fairies are real, words have power, your home is only as safe as you make it)
(AN: The Ziggurat, the Towers, and Elsewhere Square are direct references to existing accommodation at University of East Anglia and University of Essex)
Harry Styles is headed in a new direction. The singer-songwriter of One Direction fame has listed his contemporary-style home in Hollywood Hills West for sale at $8.495 million.
Tucked behind a motorized gate on a quarter-acre lot, the multi-level home boasts an open floor plan and pocketing walls of glass that capitalize on Southern California’s indoor-outdoor lifestyle. Views from the home, set above the Sunset Strip, extend from the downtown cityscape to the ocean.
The renovated home in Hollywood Hills West features multiple terraces, a covered patio and a swimming pool.
The 4,100 square feet of subdued living space includes a center-island kitchen, a screening room and a gym. The four bedrooms and six bathrooms include a top-floor master suite that opens to a private balcony.
Tall bamboo hedges form a natural screen around the swimming pool and spa. Expansive decking extends outward to create additional space as well as a covered lounge area below.
Styles bought the house a year ago for $6.87 million, property records show.
Justin Huchel of Hilton & Hyland holds the listing.
Earlier this month the 23-year-old Styles released the self-titled album “Harry Styles,” his first as a solo artist. He is set to make his acting debut later this year in the Christopher Nolan-directed war film “Dunkirk.”
President Trump questioned if Anti Semites are actually committing hate crimes, suggesting Jewish people are committing these acts to make others “look bad” (WP)(NYTIMES)
Trump signed an executive order expressing the intent to begin dismantling clean water regulations put in place under Obama.(USA)(TODAY)(HILL)
Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos called HBCUs ‘pioneers’ of ‘school choice.’ After backlash she tweeted, HBCUs were brought out of ‘necessity’ for equal education. (Original Statement)(BI)(NYTIMES)
Attorney General Jeff Sessions came out today and reaffirmed a crackdown on violent crime in the United States. He also tied an increase in violent crime to less respect for law enforcement. He also spoke of his disapproval for legal marijuana. (CNN)(WP)(FORBES)
President Trump signed an executive order that moves a federal initiative supporting historically black colleges and universities directly into the White House. Trump claims this will make them a priority. (WP)(WT)(IBT)
Trump made claims today that Barack Obama and Obama loyalists are behind anti-Trump protests and leaks from the White House. (FOX)(CNN)(NYP)
Ruth Bader Ginsburg is skipping Trump’s first joint session address to Congress. (HILL)(DN)
President Trump will be making his first address to a joint session of Congress today at 9:00 PM EST. A summary will be posted asking for your opinions.
Authors notes: So, I didn’t think I liked writing fluff… but I’m loving this series. Hope you are too. Feed back is always helpful!!
Note/Warnings: Nerves, headache, and a crap ton of fluff at the end.
Your flight had been uneventful. Well, if you could call three hours of a screaming baby, a man who snored like a freight train, and a thoroughly grumpy flight attendant uneventful. You landed in Summerville, South Carolina and took a cab down to Charleston. It was an hour drive to your parent’s house so, you pulled out your phone and plugged in your headphones.
While you listened to your music, it was interrupted by a soft ping. You smiled to see a text from Steve.
Because its a thawing, blossoming Tuesday in spring when Draco Malfoy pulls a ring from his pocket, bends down on one knee, proposes to the youngest Greengrass sister; and the spectators watch with avid eyes and proscetto slick lips the Malfoy boy in the Malfoy garden with the Malfoy heirloom. They watch and they don’t quite remember that just a year ago he’d been a causality of war.
But Draco Malfoy proposes. Recites a speech about pinks of cheeks and diamond bright eyes, souls meant to be stitched together and something like happiness budding in the sorer parts of his soul.
He proposes, and she says yes, and he can’t quite keep his eyes off the girl entangled in one of the rose bushes; watching the scene with sorrowful eyes and a flat line mouth.