#>Europe

[obriengf]

Undercover Darlings || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Summary: It's Valentines day, and you and Mitch are playing fake lovers.  Words: 1.9k Warnings: swearing, cuteness, mitch being sassy to stan Notes: guys no this didn't turn out how i wanted?? I'm so sorry!

"Put your arm around me." Words were pushed through gritted teeth as you tried to portray a smile of realism, one of joyousness and devotion to the overly familiar man sitting beside you. You could feel his chest rise and fall with a murmur before he released a small sigh - irritation was imminent, but what you couldn't see was the ghost of a smile lifting at his lips. Paris was beautiful this time of year - on the cusp of falling snow, but still clear enough to enjoy the elegance of such a romantic city. The architecture stood sharp as you peered around the vast space before you, eyes gazing over couples as they celebrated a holiday made purely for love. It created a warmth within you, only complemented by the additional weight thrown over your shoulders and the small tug of your body against the firmness of another's chest. A smirk found its way among the contouring of your facial features - amusement etching into the corners of your eyes and the scrunch of your nose. You could feel the muscles of the arm tense, and you knew that you had him where you wanted him. Your partner was never one to show emotion with ease if it didn't consist of anger or irritability, nor were you one to often show roguery or mischievousness. But Mitch Rapp, the big bad Assassin, brought that side out of you so damn easily. It was an enigma just how he managed to do so, but by now it was comfortable more than anything. A small twist of your head allowed lips to press to the man's scruffed cheek, his beard beginning to grow back through despite your protests - it only made his want for it to grow even faster. You could feel a deep breath as it filled his lungs, his heart hammering against the curve of your shoulder blade. A tone of sweetness fell so easily from your lips, "Thanks, sweetie." Mitch's arm squeezed your body, a warning more than a simple acknowledgment. He groaned quietly against the shell of your ear, "Don't push it."

To an estranged eye, the two of you would seem like a couple enjoying the presence of one another; soaking in the strong emotion of love as it filled the Parisian air, without a worry or care. However, that timeline of events was far from what led you both to this specific bench, in this specific park, watching a specific person as they dawdled at the base of France's tallest landmark. Your target was a man with a deep history of 'pissing off the wrong people', as Stan Hurley would put it so elegantly.

The man wasn't hard to miss; his stance tall and build hefty, eyes teetering on the edge of blackened hues, his behaviour shifty despite the experience that weighed so heavily behind him. He ran a weapons trade that spanned the distance of Europe and his focus was secured now upon the rest of the world. Which simply, cannot happen. Not when the Central Intelligence Agency had two of its most adaptable agents ready to stop him.

You had worked alongside Mitch for what seemed like forever when it was nearing almost five years. He objected to it at first, but you held persistence and dedication that your handler couldn't pass up, especially when it came down to taming the beast. It was quicker than expected when you both fell into a routine and soon enough, the quirks and characteristics that made you both so incredibly different were the structure of your unique relationship.

Without declaration, he would burn the world to keep you warm.

"Where is he going?" Mitch's voice hissed, your concentrated daze breaking before looking toward your target. He was meant to be meeting with somebody, however, it wasn't in the cards for his early departure. Your partner cursed as he stood up and your body went with him, a shadow to his lead. Mitch's arm fell from you before his fingers slid nonchalantly with your own; both a wordless protection and tenacity to keep your cover from being blown. Mitch rolled his lips before moving forward, "C'mon, we're gonna lose him."

You couldn't help the furrowed brows of annoyance as static buzzed in your ear, a baffled Stan Hurley blasting question after question in such an incoherence as Mitch led you through the bustling crowds. You side-eyed your partner as he gave you a reciprocated expression before his honey-coloured eyes rolled in an atypical fashion. "He's on the move.", You spoke quietly, hoping that the projection of your voice was enough to be recognised among the numerous conversations you were surrounded by.

"Well, you better fucking catch up to him!" Your handler replied, and Mitch rolled his eyes once more.

"No shit." Your partner's reply with hasty and simple, causing the utmost satisfaction for you both as he was reprimanded briefly afterwards by the voice in your ears.

The man led you both toward a Valentines market; the populated street covered in red from head to toe, acoustic tunes exuding romance playing from street performers, and couples shining their brightest heart eyes at one another. It was the perfect place to get lost in, and in the moment you hoped for dear life that your target didn't know that he was in fact, a target.

Mitch held your hand tighter before tugging you against his side; the familiar weight of his arm now slung back over your shoulders. You blended in perfectly, a flawless seam among the budding bustle of festivalgoers. The proximity bordered on 'too natural' and you wondered if Mitch felt even the slightest complacency as you did at this opportune moment. It was a simple question of 'what if' - in an alternative world where you both weren't government-employed assassins, would your lives be easy and intertwined by fate, where maybe the two of you could live a happily ever aft-

"Rose for the madam?" The thick accent made you jolt, the silly thoughts intruding your mind now gone as Mitch brought you both to a stop. You looked toward a small French man, a stand of explosive colours serving as a beautiful backdrop behind him. Flowers of all sorts were gathered into small bouquets, but the one that stood out most to you was the perfect red petals of a single rose as it was positioned for Mitch's attention.

You were anticipating a refusal, at least a polite decline, with your partner usually one to skip the antics and keep his eyes on the prize. Which is why it took you by surprise when he handed over a few euros, taking the delicate flower in exchange. You didn't often see him smile but the genuine grin that followed and the kindness in his eyes was more than enough to make your heart thump, thump, thump.

Mitch's brow rose as he looked down at your expression of puzzlement, a chuckle of the utmost quietness falling from his lips as he held the rose toward you, "What? It's Valentine's day."

"You just continue to surprise me, is all." You replied, accepting the gift. Your shoulders rose nonchalantly before you peered not too far ahead at your target as he typed away ferociously at his phone. He was quick to move again, and it was your feet now that led the two of you after his further retreat.

Mitch scoffed, his spare hand scratching at his scruffed cheek; a nervous habit you managed to notice easily but kept as a secret for you and only you to know. He cleared his throat, "I'm just tryn' to keep up our cover. We're meant to be in love, remember?"

"I think you're just going soft on me, Rapp."

You heard a grumble in reply and it made you smirk, his voice hiding as it fell gently into the collar of his jacket, "Whatever."

Navigating through the crowds was becoming more difficult, regardless of the tight grip Mitch had on your hand. You weren't sure whether it was to keep you close so you wouldn't get lost, or as a means to make you both move faster, but he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

A familiar crack of static buzzed in your earpiece as the line opened, and you were greeted once more by your handler's voice with further direction. "We're close to your location, he's gonna run outta road soon so wherever this fucker is going, it can't be too far away. Stay vigilant, don't blow your cover."

You and Mitch replied with brief acknowledgment, your surroundings shifting to a smaller space down a city backstreet. Your mission had taken a turn the moment you left the gardens of the Eifel Tower, but you needed to make the best of a bad situation. No matter how frustrating it may be - and if it meant following a dangerous firearm trafficker through the heart of a love festival, then so be it.

The further he went, the less people there were to get in your way. It was a bittersweet concoction of keeping your eyes on him more clearly, versus his prevalent possibility of catching you out. Your target's paranoia was bubbling to the surface as his gaze flickered between the incoming messages on his phone and his surroundings. He was on edge, waiting with anticipation, searching for something. It was as if he could read your mind as he peered over his shoulder with the sceptical feeling that he was being watched.

Mitch swore as he pulled you to the side, avoiding the other man's eyes for a mere moment as he hissed toward you, "Kiss me. Now. Quick."

"What -"

"Kiss me."

You looked at him in confusion and it made your partner's eyes roll before his hands cupped your cheeks. They were splayed over your skin, warm and surprisingly soft, the perfect cradle for when he pressed his lips so carefully against yours. Mitch didn't want to scare you - knowing damn well that you would either kiss him back or sock him for his advances. Luckily, you found comfort in his taste and touch, and it took nothing more for you to melt into his tenderness.

Kissing Mitch wasn't on your cards for today, and you never would've thought that you'd be standing with your arms dangling around his neck, his fingers pressing gently against your jaw as his lips slid and licked with your own. For someone who was losing his patience earlier in the day, Mitch was taking all the time in the world to have you in his grasp. Holding you carefully. Cherishing your lips.

"Have you still got eyes on him?" Stan's voice sounded muffled as you poured every ounce of attention into Mitch. It was white noise, along with the music flowing from the local bands and the chatter of citizens moving around you. "Rapp, Y/L/N. Have you got eyes on the goddamn target?!"

Mitch jumped back slightly - lips still pursed, eyes fluttering as if he was waking up from a dream. He had never looked so at ease, until Stan's words finally caught up to him and his attention shifted to where the target was once standing. Where he was, no more.

Your eyes widened, locking with the honey brown of the man beside you. It was in unison when you both groaned, realization hitting that you did in fact, not, have your sight on the target.

"Fuck."

[his-heart-hymns]

In this video an American general explains how politicians at the Pentagon made decisions to invade seven countries-Iraq, Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, Somalia, Sudan and Iran(oil rich countries) within a five-year span without any reasons. When the military questioned their motives, their response was,-"We have a strong military, so we can overthrow governments."

This one minute video is enough to expose how America, Europe and Israel the so called 'bastion of freedom and human rights' destroy nations to fulfil their evil imperialistic goals.

The audience is laughing while he proudly talks about the genocides that america and its allies have committed.Millions of people died and millions more are facing poverty, starvation, and homelessness even to this day but at least they got a good laugh out of it.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Renaissance Period

The Renaissance Period of classical music - spans approximately 1400 to 1600.

It was preceded by the Medieval period and followed by the Baroque period.

The Renaissance era of music history came significantly later than the era of Renaissance art, which arguably peaked during the 14th and 15th centuries, yet the Renaissance music era proved to be equally robust.

This era saw the growth of polyphonic music, the rise of new instruments, and a burst of new ideas regarding harmony, rhythm, and music notation.

Characteristics of Renaissance Music

Renaissance music represented a great leap in sophistication from the Medieval era music of the Middle Ages. Key characteristics of Renaissance music include:

Polyphony: While Medieval music is often characterized by homophonic singing (as in Gregorian chants), Renaissance music by composers like Josquin, Palestrina, and Thomas Tallis emphasized multiple voices singing in a polyphonic style. The same was true for multi-part instrumental music.

Tonal music: Most music of the Middle Ages was modal, meaning it followed musical modes as opposed to the major scale or minor scale. In the Renaissance era, this began to change. Some music, particularly vocal music, remained modal in nature, but newer forms like the English madrigal and the Italian madrigal embraced the tonal music that remains popular to this day. Tonal music places strong emphasis on cadences at the end of sections or entire pieces; this way a listener’s ear can be anchored in a particular key.

Increased risk-taking: Early Renaissance music, like that of Guillaume Dufay, maintained the harmonic rules of Medieval music from the late Middle Ages. But as new styles emerged over the course of the sixteenth century, Renaissance music began pushing boundaries and introducing moments of dissonance. Italian and German a cappella music employed a style called musica reservata, featuring notable chromaticism and ornamentation. Meanwhile, musically bold passages by composers like Palestrina would heavily influence early Baroque musicians, such as the Venetian composer Claudio Monteverdi.

A Brief History of Renaissance Music

The Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation of the 16th century liberalized some forms of art, and both church music and secular art music thrived during the Renaissance era.

Meanwhile, the 1439 invention of the printing press helped standardize music notation across Europe, although it would continue to evolve during the Baroque era and Classical era.

The Renaissance era itself spans 3 phases:

Early Renaissance: The music of the early Renaissance centered around the Burgundian School, a group of composers led by Guillaume Dufay in northern France and the Low Countries. Early Renaissance music followed closely in the spirit of late Medieval music, but with less syncopation and a greater focus on harmonic cadences. As the early Renaissance period gave way to the middle Renaissance, church composers Johannes Ockeghem and Jacob Obrecht pushed new boundaries in polyphony in their intricate masses.

Middle Renaissance: The middle Renaissance began around the time that the Catholic church's Council of Trent issued edicts discouraging the use of excessive polyphony in vocal church music. This led to a rollback of techniques used by Obrecht and Ockeghem, but it gave rise to a new generation of Renaissance composers who embraced simpler forms of harmony. The most enduring composers of the middle Renaissance are the Franco-Flemish composer Josquin des Prez and the Italian composer Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina of the Roman School. Josquin was a master of sacred music, and Palestrina introduced the independent interlocking melody lines we now call counterpoint. At times, however, both Josquin and Palestrina would pay homage to the simple monophonic melodies that defined the Medieval era.

Late Renaissance: The late Renaissance gave way to a style known as mannerism, wherein music was embellished with various forms of ornamentation, suspension, and even chromaticism. This would set the table for the bold, dynamic, heavily embellished music of the Baroque era.

Renaissance Period Musical Forms

The Renaissance period gave rise to musical forms like the motet, the madrigale spirituale, the mass, and the laude, all of which were liturgical styles of music.

Secular music also had a place in the Renaissance era; secular forms included the secular motet and motet-chanson, the secular madrigal, the villancico, the frottola, the rondo, the ballade, the lute song, and the canzonetta.

Instruments of the Renaissance Period

The Renaissance period saw a mix of new musical instruments and holdovers from earlier music. Common Renaissance instruments included:

Harpsichord

Clavichord

Viol

Lute

Rebec

Lyre

Guitar

Recorder

Cornet

Trumpet

Trombone (known at the time as sackbut)

Tambourine

Transverse flute

Influential Renaissance Composers

The musical literature of the Renaissance has not endured to the degree that Baroque, Classical, and Romantic era music has. Still, several Renaissance composers remain highly influential to this day.

Josquin des Prez: Josquin des Prez was a prodigious composer of both church music and secular music. His liturgical motets are widely taught in music schools as examples of Renaissance harmony and notation. He was particularly known in his lifetime for composing 32 religious masses.

Carlo Gesualdo: Better known in his lifetime as Gesualdo da Venosa, this late Renaissance composer was perhaps the most famous of his era to emerge from Italy. He was also notorious for a string of murders he is alleged to have committed. Gesualdo published six volumes of Italian madrigals, which featured chromaticism that would not be equaled until deep into the Baroque era.

Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina: Simply known as Palestrina to most, this Roman School composer is sometimes credited as the link between Renaissance and Baroque music. Palestrina's mastery of counterpoint was among the most robust of his era. Palestrina was known for his masses, such as the Missa Papae Marcelli (Pope Marcellus Mass), which made him famous in his own lifetime.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Black wenley

The black wenley is a fish belonging to the order Perciformes. It is a slow-growing freshwater fish that is often the apex predator of its habitat. Its colours range from all black to a dark brown. Its diet as a juvenile consists of zooplankton, and as it grows it starts hunting for bigger and bigger prey, moving to crustaceans, fish larvae, small fish and finally medium fish. Opportunistic adults will also feed on small mammals and young birds. While juveniles tend to band together, adult black wenleys are solitary and will readily attack and consume others of their kind if they feel crowded. They prefer cooler waters and tend to inhabit the deepest parts of lakes, ponds and rivers. Their natural distribution spans through Central, North and East Europe.

A young juvenile and a mature adult of a few years of age, respectively. Besides for the eel-ish appearance of the juvenile, the beginning and end of life stages of the black wenley are completely ordinary and unassuming. Likely this fish would've been entirely forgotten if these were the only life stages this most confusing animal goes through. But, no. The black wenley is among the most studied fish in the world, and it's all thanks to its older juvenile phase:

What in the world!! What is that? That cannot possibly be the same animal, let alone a fish! That's a strange frog, in no way can that be a black wenley!

That's an entirely sensible conclusion to come to! A good portion of people used to think the same, centuries and millenia ago. If a community of people lived in a place with no merfolk who could explain the real deal (merfolk used to be restricted to large bodies of water, before the two-legs spell was invented), they would often view the big black fishes that appear each spring and the strange froglike creatures of the late summer as separate animals. Most European languages give them separate names, in fact! Only when information became more available and the scientific method improved did it become clear that these two were one and the same...

So, how exactly does the life cycle of the black wenley work?

The fry hatch in late spring, and start their life as normal. They eat, ferociously! Once they reach about 10 centimeters in length, they not only grow in size, but change in shape, too. Their pectoral fins begin to develop into lobe-fins, then into legs, and two hind legs rapidly sprout from their side. During the summer months their appetite and search for food is neverending, but even then, they still absorb their tail fin and tail into their bodies to obtain any new bit of energy possible. Inside their bodies the swim bladder becomes highly vascularised, and on the outside their black scales slowly morph into a messy green colour. Perhaps the strangest change of all, the head of the fish slowly moves up its body, and its eyes migrate higher on its head to view the environment better. By the time the transformation is complete, it is already August.

That's when the migration begins.

The black wenley juveniles spend more and more time out of the water as they develop, but the moment their four legs are strong enough to carry their weight, they leave their home waters and venture out into the world. Their tall stance allows them to see their environment better and assess possible threats much more efficiently. Their swim bladder now a lung of sorts, the black wenleys can travel considerable distances through forests, through fields, through swamps, and through city suburbs to the amusement of onlookers.

Their stumbling is... very silly. Their flippers seem to be all awkwardly placed hind leg and no front leg, making their walking slow and waddly. It's common to see them fall on their stomach or their knees. For fish on land, they do rather well though!

The goal of the black wenley juvenile is to find a fitting body of water with few or zero conspecifics, many food sources, and deep water. Once the juvenile has found the home of their dreams, they settle down and resume aquatic living.

All throughout winter, the black wenley transforms in secret under the ice. The legs that it spent so much energy building shrivel up: they use the extra energy to sustain themselves in the harsh cold darkness. Slowly, their head moves back down to a straight continuation of the spine, and their body elongates once more. Spines begin growing from their back. In the spring they regrow their fins, as if nothing had happened at all. As if the black wenley had been but an ordinary fish all this time. A one-year-old black wenley is rather slim and small, but as the fish matures it grows in height and develops its distinctive large head. It remains this way for the rest of its life! Black wenleys seldom reproduce in their first year and tend to wait until they are two years old to begin their courtship. They spawn in the spring, and so the cycle begins anew.

The black wenley is a fascinating example of metamorphosis and how the influence of magic in the genes of animals can cause them to develop otherwise-impossible-to-achieve forms. Its semblance to frogs in its middle stage was a key piece in the creation of the theory of evolution, and in times of old before DNA testing became possible it was even hailed as a missing link between fish and land animals, an all new class of animal! Now of course we know that it is a perciform fish, just as distantly related to tetrapods as any bass or grouper. While it is fairly obvious this land-dwelling form is the species' unique answer to dispersal, it is not exactly known how the magic in its DNA causes this froglike form or came to cause it: few animals go through such large changes in their life cycle, magic-induced or not. The species is a common test subject to this day, for these reasons.

The black wenley is a beloved favourite of anglers, due to its aggressive nature and tendency to quickly bite into fishing bait. It is a symbol of change and escape from dire situations by any means necessary, especially in merfolk culture and literature. In everyday life, merfolk view it akin to a fox: it can bite, but only if you bother it or something is wrong with it, so it's best to leave it alone. Kind of cool if you spot it, actually. It's a very beautiful fish!

The black wenley is a species of least concern, though industrialisation and overfishing has made a dent in its populations and their average size is smaller in the modern day. While it is native to Europe, it has also been introduced outside of its range. Due to its extremely high affinity to travel from a body of water to another and eat everything that moves, it is classified as a harmful invasive species in North America and Asia.

Most importantly: yes! Some merfolk in the sirpaverse have the lower fish half of a black wenley. They develop into the older juvenile stage at about 5-7 years of age, and into the mature form at puberty. They don't feel the need to leave their home to find a new one as children.

[youryurigoddess]

A nightingale sang in the London Blitz

When exactly was that certain night, the night Aziraphale and Crowley met — and spoke for the first time in 79 years in the midst of the London Blitz?

And what’s the deal with the nightingale’s song, really?

Grab something to drink and we’ll look for some Clues below.

The night they met

The Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg (literally: flash war) was a German aerial bombing campaign on British cities in the WW2, spanning between 7 September 1940 and 10 May 1941. The Luftwaffe attacks were carried out almost non stop, with great intensity meant to force a capitulation and similarly strong impact on British life and culture at the time.

Starting on 7 September 1940, London as the capital city was bombed for nearly 60 consecutive nights. More than one million London houses were destroyed or damaged, and more than 20,000 civilians were killed, half of the total victims of this campaign.

The night of 29 December 1940 saw the most ferocity, becoming what is now known as the Second Great Fire of London. The opening shot of the S2 1941 minisode is a direct reference to recordings of that event, with the miraculously saved St Paul’s Cathedral in the upper left corner.

The actual raid lasted between 06:15 and 09:45 PM, but its aftermath continued for days. The old and dense architecture of this particular part of the city turned into a flaming inferno larger than the Great Fire of 1666. Multiple buildings, including churches, were destroyed in just one night by over 100,000 bombs.

Incendiary bombs fell also on St Dunstan-in-the-East church that night, the real-life location of this scene as intended by Neil. It was gutted and again claimed by fire in one of the last air rides on 10 May, when the bomb destroyed the nave and roof and blew out the stained glass windows. The ruins survived to this day as a memorial park to the Blitz.

Such a delightfully Crowley thing to do: saving a bag of books with a demonic miracle adding to the biggest catastrophe for the publishing and book trade in years. 5 million volumes were lost, multiple bookshops and publishing houses destroyed in the December 29th raid alone.

Even without this context, judging by the seemingly unending night, overwhelming cold and darkness, broken heating at the theatre, and seasonal clothing (like Aziraphale and Crowley’s extremely nice winter coats), it’s rather clear that it was the very beginning of the year 1941.

Everything suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley’s Blitz reunion happened exactly 1900 years after their meeting in Rome — which, according to the script book, took place between 1 and 24 January 41 (Crowley was right: emperor Caligula was a mad tyrant and didn't need any additional tempting; there's a reason why he was murdered by his closest advisors, including members of his Praetorian Guard, on 24 January 41).

Interestingly, both events involved a role reversal in their otherwise stable dynamic, with Aziraphale spontaneously taking the lead instead of letting the demon be the one to do all the tempting and saving, and ended with a toast.

The S2 Easter Egg with the nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl playing table tennis at the theatre suggests that the Blitz meeting happened on a Tuesday afternoon, which doesn’t match any of the above mentioned days, but sets the in-universe date for 7 January 1941 or later.

The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.

The nightingale

January means one thing: absolutely no migratory birds in Europe yet. They’re blissfully wintering in the warm sun of Northern Africa at the time. But, ironically, when the real nightingales flew off, a certain song about them suddenly gained popularity in the West End of London.

It might be a shock, but A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square wasn’t a hit from the start — even though its creators, Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, were certainly established in their work at this point. The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War with first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar, where the melody was played on piano by the composer Manning Sherwin with the help of the resident saxophonist. Maschwitz sang his lyrics while holding a glass of wine, but nobody seemed impressed. It took time and a small miracle to change that.

Next year, the 23-year-old actress Judy Campbell had planned to perform a monologue of Dorothy Parker’s in the upcoming Eric Maschwitz revue „New Faces”. But somehow the script had been mislaid and, much to her horror, replaced with the song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. She had never professed to be a singer but even so, she gathered her courage and went out onto the moonlit set dressed in a white ball gown. Her heartfelt rendition of the now evocative ballad captured the audience’s imagination and catapulted her West End career to stardom.

It was precisely 11 April 1940 at the Comedy Theatre in Panton Street and the revue itself proved to be a great success — not only it kept playing two performances nightly through the Blitz, but also returned the next year. And the still operating Comedy Theatre is mere five minutes on foot from the Windmill Theatre, where Aziraphale performed in 1941, and not much longer from his bookshop.

Now, most Good Omens meta analyses focus on Vera Lynn’s version of the song from 5 June 1940, but it didn’t get much attention until autumn, specifically 15 November, when Glenn Miller and his orchestra published another recording. And Glenn Miller himself is a huge point of reference in Good Omens 2.

According to the official commentary the infamous credits scene is establishing Aziraphale and Crowley’s final resolve for the next season using the same narrative device The Glenn Miller Story (1954) does in its most crucial scene. It starts with the tune (and audio in general) totally flat, then adds a piano on one side, and gradually becomes fully multidimensional. The Good Omens credits not only emulate the same sound effect, but bring it to the visual side of the narrative by literally combining the individual perspectives of the two characters together. Even though they’re physically apart, their resolve — and love to each other — brings them even closer than before. Aziraphale smiles not because he’s being brainwashed, but because he knows exactly what to do next.

Some of you might have noticed that Tori Amos’s performance for Good Omens is actually a slightly shortened version of Miller’s recording — much less sorrowful than Vera Lynn’s full lyrics that include i.a. this bridge:

The dawn came stealing up

All gold and blue

To interrupt our rendez-vous

I still remember how you smiled and said

Was that a dream or was it true?

Which is a huge hint when it comes to what we can expect from the main romantic plot line in the Good Omens series. The original song introduces an element of the doubt — it seems like there was no nightingale at all, only the mirage woven by the singer clearly intoxicated with love, much like Aziraphale and Crowley for the length of the last six episodes. Crowley’s comment in the season finale might allude to that interpretation, stating that there are no nightingales — never have been. It was all a dream. But the version we’re working with here is short and sweet, and devoid of that doubt. In the Good Omens universe angels were actually dining at the Ritz, the streets were truly paved with stars (or will be shown as such in the next season), and a nightingale really sang in Berkeley Square, as the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent narrator, God Herself, had shown us.

All in all, it’s not an accident that the “modern” swing ballad activating Aziraphale’s memory and opening the 1941 minisode is the Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. It’s a track naturally associated with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square when it comes to music style and the sentiment in the lyrics.

But why the sudden popularity? In the great uncertainty and hardship of the Blitz, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square provided solace and escapism for listeners, offering a glimpse of hope and love amidst the darkness of war. It became a universal anthem of resilience and a reminder of the power of love transcending difficulties. By January 1941 the whole city knew this tune by heart, including a certain West End aficionado with a cabinet full of theatre programs in his bookshop. Thanks to Maggie’s grandmother, he most probably had a record at hand to play during his spontaneous wine night with Crowley. We can only suspect the details, but it was was mutually established as their song exactly at that time or soon afterwards. Pretty sure we will see a third installment of that minisode for many, many reasons, but especially because of this “several days in 1941” answer by Neil:

The Man Hunt

In 1941 A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square gained even more popularity as the romantic theme of the Fritz Lang’s newest film Man Hunt. The 1939 story by Geoffrey Household first appeared under the title “Rogue Male” as a serial in the Atlantic Monthly Magazine where it received widespread comment, soon becoming a world-wide phenomenon in novel form. Its premise criticizes Britain's pre-war policy of appeasement with Germany, ready to sacrifice its own innocent citizens to the tentative status quo. Sounds a bit like Heaven's politics, right?

Yes, I'm trying to make you watch old movies again — like all the other classics, Man Hunt (1941) is easily available on YouTube and other streaming websites.

The next part will include spoilers, so scroll down to the next picture if you prefer to avoid them.

The plot of the movie seems simple enough: the tall, dark, and handsome Alan Thorndike, who nearly assassinates Hitler, narrowly escapes Germany and back in London continues to evade the Nazi agents sent after him with the help of a young trench-clad “seamstress” named Jerry, bridging the class divide and becoming unlikely friends-partners-romantic interests. It doesn’t end well though.

Jerry's small London apartment serves as a hideout for Alan when he was being followed by Nazis, similarly to how Aziraphale's bookshop is a safe haven for both Crowley and Gabriel in S2. She helps the man navigate the streets and eventually out of London — by sacrificing herself and getting forcefully separated from him by a patrolling policeman. The last time they see each other, Alan watches Jerry look back at him yearningly and disappear in the fog, followed by the elderly officer.

Unfortunately in the next scene we learn that the latter is a Nazi collaborator and helps the agents apprehend Jerry in her own flat. Staying loyal to her love and uncooperative, she’s ultimately thrown out of a window to her death, but posthumously saves Alan once again — through the arrow-shaped hatpin he gifted her earlier that is presented to him as the evidence of her off-screen fate.

Long story short, thanks to Jerry’s sacrifice Alan not only survives, but is able to join the war that broke out in the meantime and go back to Germany, armed with a rifle and a final resolve to end what he started, no matter how long will it take. The justice will be served and the dictator will pay with his life for his sins.

I wouldn’t be myself without mentioning that the main villain has a Roman chariot statue similar to the one in Aziraphale’s bookshop, an antique sculpture of St Sebastian (well-known as the gayest Catholic Saint) foreshadowing his demise, and a chess set symbolizing the titular manhunt/game of tag with the protagonist.

Aziraphale’s song

Will Aziraphale sacrifice himself as well? Or has he already? If his coin magic trick can be any indicator, we should expect at least a shadow of a danger touching the angel’s wings soon.

Let’s sum up the 1941 events from Aziraphale’s perspective: the very first time they’ve interacted after almost a century, Crowley actively sabotaged his entire existence twice by stepping onto a holy ground and by being outed by agents of Hell, both on the very same night and both because of his undying dedication to the angel. That’s enough of a reason not only for performing an apology dance, but also maintaining a careful distance for Crowley’s sake for the next 26 years. Only when he heard that his idiot was planning to rob a church, he gave up since he “can't have him risking his life”.

That’s when Crowley, sitting in a car parked right under his bookshop, offered him a ride. It wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was supposed to be a date, this time both of them understood it. But Aziraphale wouldn’t risk Crowley’s safety for his own happiness, especially not when he can name his feelings towards him and knows that they are reciprocated — the biggest lesson he learnt back in 1941.

So he did what he’s best at, he cut Crowley off again, but this time with a promise of catching up to his speed at some point. Buddy Holly’s Everyday, which was originally planned to play afterwards instead of the Good Omens theme, adds additional context here:

No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know… Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.

Aziraphale, carefully looking around and feeling observed through the whole conversation in the Bentley, consciously used the “Dine at the Ritz” line from A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, from their song, as a code only the two of them understand. Not as a suggestion to go out for a meal, but a promise. A hope for the privilege of being openly in love and together — maybe someday, not now, when it’s too dangerous — even if it leads to a bad ending.

Fast forward to 2023 when for one dreadful moment Crowley’s “No nightingales” robbed Aziraphale even of that semblance of hope. He looked away, unable to stop his tears anymore. Only their kiss helped him pull himself together and make sure that a nightingale did sing the last time he turned — just like in their song — this time without a smile, as a goodbye.

[impala-dreamer]

Turn down the lights and indulge in some sexy, angsty horror...

Escape

~Y/N and Dean are abducted after a night at the bar and thrown into a maze of horrors. Can Sam track down his brother and girlfriend in time? Can they even hold on that long?~

Dean Winchester, Y/N, Sam Winchester, OCs

Series Warnings: Angst. Show level violence. Graphic gore and blood. Extreme situations that may cause anxiety and fear. Character injury and trauma.

13 Chapters

Good Vibrations

Y/N has wished for Dean Winchester to turn his eye her way since the moment they met, silently pining for him and loving him from deep within the friend zone. When Dean suddenly returns her affection, Y/N is in Seventh Heaven, but nothing gold can stay, and she soon finds out that things aren’t always what they seem and that some wishes are better left unfulfilled.

Dean x Reader, Sam, OFC

Warnings: NSFW. Angst. Smut. Rough, violent, possibly triggering situations. (All chapters will be tagged with their own warnings)

14 Chapters

Conditioned

~Dean always feared the Apple Pie Life, but with Y/N he felt secure enough to try. He should have known better.~

Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, Jack, OMCs

Series Warning: Extreme Angst. Violent Situations. Kidnapping. Murder. Torture. Blood. Fighting. Also Fluff and some Smut. Very NSFW. Each chapter will be warned individually and appropriately. 

19 Chapters

Muddy Soul 

~ Life isn’t always as it seems and people aren’t who they say they are. Love isn’t always a good thing, and sometimes, finding out the hard way may just kill you. ~

Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, OMC x Reader, Castiel, Rowena

Series Blanket Warnings: Extreme Angst. DubCon. NonCon. Extreme Physical and Mental Abuse. Show Level Angst and Beyond. Magic. Manipulative and Abusive Relationships. Sexual Situations. Mental Manipulation. Mind Control. Panic Attacks. Severe PTSD. Murder. Some romance, comfort. 

30 Chapters

The Nightmare Curse

~Hit by a devastating curse, Y/N is forced to live out her darkest nightmares on a loop. Can Dean and Sam wake her before there’s nothing left to wake? ~

Featuring Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel – And Many Others Spanning the 15 Seasons of Supernatural

Series Warnings Include But Are Not Limited To: Rated R. NSFW. Sexual Activities. Non-Consensual Sexual Acts, Acts of Dubious Consent. Murder. Suicide. Main Character Death. Physical Abuse. Mental Abuse. Dismemberment. Exsanguination. Disembowelment. Cannibalism. Extreme Angst and Horror Well Beyond Scope of Original Show. Proceed with caution. 

13 Chapters

The Fragile Heart

~ After returning home from filming a movie in Europe, Jensen fights to control himself and Y/N keep safe. Unfortunately, lust is hard to fight and hunger even more so…~ 

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

NSFW, Vampire!AU, Relationship Angst, Mentions of Past Infidelity, Smut, Blood, Dark Romance, Death

Blind Faith

~What if the cure was never really a cure? What if the curse was too strong and her love was too weak?~ Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester.  9,760 Words

NSFW, Dark Fic, DbCn, NCn, Extreme Violence, Blood, Extreme Angst, Major Character Death.

The Beat Of Your Heart

~ Friends become lovers who turn into the darkest evil that one can endure… ~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader; Michael!Dean x F!Reader

8,587 Words

NSFW, Fluff, Cute Banter, Friends To Lovers, There Was Only One Bed!?, All the Sex, Passionate Love, Hope, *record scratch*, Extreme Angst, Violence, NonCon, Torture, Blood, Major Character Death

His Return

~Walking alone at night can be deadly.~

Vampire!Dean Winchester x Reader

1,780 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Major Character Death, Vampirism. 

Taking Over Me

~Dean’s guilty pleasure comes to life and Y/N gets tangled in the mix…~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader 

3800 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Monster Fucking. Tentacles. All The Way Through Tentacles. Cum. Poison. Possession. Allll the fucked up things.

[mozartbachtoven]

( Bombardment of Vienna, May 12, 1809 )...

Beethoven, after coming to terms with his failing hearing, entered an extremely fruitful and productive phase in his career, otherwise known as the "Heroic" period. After his return from Heiligenstadt, a notable pupil, Carl Czerny, recalls Beethoven exclaiming:

"I am not satisfied with the work I have done so far. From now on l intend to take a new way."

This middle period, spanning 1803--1815, is characterized by a high level of musical maturity. Works from this period are generally larger in scale, longer in duration and overall more complex when compared to prior works. Notable works from this period include his only opera, an oratorio, a mass, six symphonies (Symphonies 3--8 ), four concertos, five string quartets, three trio, three string sonatas and numerous other miscellaneous works. This middle "Heroic" phase roughly coincides with the rise and fall of Napoleon...

Beethoven's most fruitful years were times of extreme political turbulence in France -- years that had significant repercussions throughout Europe. The Elector of Bonn, Maximilian Franz, sponsored Beethoven during his initial years in Vienna. During the chaos of the French Revolution, one year after Beethoven's arrival in Vienna, Franz would lose his elder sister, Marie Antoinette, to the guillotine in 1793..

Beethoven was a well-known champion of the common man, and fully embraced the ideas of democracy spilling out of France during the Revolution. Initially, Beethoven was an ardent fan of Napoleon Bonaparte (1769--1821), commending Napoleon's ability to stabilized France following the Revolution. However, Beethoven's attitude towards Napoleon, shared by many of Europe's leading intellectuals, was extremely conflicted. Beethoven embarked on a love--hate relationship with Napoleon for the next twenty years. Napoleon himself noted that:

"Everybody has loved me and hatedme: everybody had taken me up, dropped me, and taken me up again"..

At first, Beethoven viewed Napoleon as the embodiment of the democratic ideals sweeping across Europe in the early 1800's. Beethoven decided to dedicated to dedicate his newly completed 3rd Symphony to Napoleon. However, when Napoleon declared himself " Emperor of the French " in May 1804, Beethoven was enraged. One of Beethoven's pupils, Ferdinand Ries, recall Beethoven's response..

( At that time Beethoven had the highest esteem for him "Napoleon" and compared him to the greatest consuls of ancient Rome. Not only I, but many of Beethoven's closer friends, saw this symphony on his table, beautifully copied in manuscript, with the word "Buonaparte'" inscribed at the very top of the title-page and "Ludwig van Beethoven" at the very bottom. ...l was the first tell him the news that Buonaparte had declared himself Emperor, whereupon he broke into a rage and exclaimed, "So he is no more than a common mortal! Now, too, he will tread under foot all the rights of man, indulge only his ambition; now he will think himself superior to all men, become a tyrant! Beethoven went to the table, seized the top of the title--page, tore it in half and threw it on the floor. The page had to be re--copied and it was only now that the symphony received the title " Sinfonia Eroica)..

Apparently, three months later, Beethoven had second thoughts. At that time, Beethoven wrote to his publisher: "The title of the symphony is really Bonaparte". After several subsequent name changes and dedications, however, the 3rd Symphony simply became known as the " Eroica" (Italian for "heroic) in 1806. Given this history, it seems, at least in Beethoven's mind, the Eroica may or may not have been dedicated to Napoleon...

The " Eroica " is a milestone of symphony reportoire given its unprecedented length and strong emotional content. Due to its avant-garde nature, the 3rd Symphony received mixed reviews at its premiere. As one music critic wrote: "Beethoven was doing for music what Napoleon was doing for society--turning tradition upside down".

Thank you Nadia Nasr @ Ludwig van Beethoven Group

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello,

I apologize in advance if you've already answered something like this but my cursory look didn't show anything. I am looking for a game system that has an emphasis on the feeling of a wild west movie while still retaining general fantasy elements from DND. The wild spaces are slowly becoming tamed, increasing technological/magical advancement are pushing disparate communities together, and of course cocky assholes with guns (or a magical equivalent).

Thanks in advance

Theme: Wild West Fantasy

Hello friend, you might want to check out my Fantasy Westerns rec post, to see if anything there fits what you’re looking for. I especially recommend checking out the rec for We Deal In Lead and Clink. For the rest of this post, I try to span a very broad range, so I don't expect everything to stick - but perhaps one or two do!

Inevitable, by Soul Muppet Publishing.

Knights and wizards have defended the Kingdom of Myth for centuries. These lands have known peace and prosperity, but soon the kingdom shall be destroyed. The Prophets have declared that your city shall burn and Myth will fall. All those who follow your King shall die. It is INEVITABLE.

But you shall defy fate. Myth will not end while you bear arms. You will fail, but as long as there are still stories, they will sing of you!

Inevitable is a Arthurian Western roleplaying game for 2-6 players and a GM, where your party of disastrously sad cowboy knights fail to stop the apocalypse. This 284 page book contains all the rules, character creation and the setting for your campaign, thoroughly and evocatively detailing The Barren, the lands surrounding the Kingdom of Myth.

This game might be way you’re looking for: it describes itself as a fantasy kingdom, with western aesthetics. There are wizards, prophets, and rune-carved revolvers. Your reputation in the kingdom is important; it determines how well you can face challenges, and roll pools of d6 on a table of staggered success. If you want a taste before you buy, there’s a Quickstart with some evocative set pieces, a quick overview of the rules, and a quick adventure to run through with a list of pre-generated characters.

Far West, by Adamant Entertainment.

Imagine a fantasy setting that shatters the tropes of Medieval Europe. Imagine a collision of Spaghetti Westerns and Chinese Wuxia by way of Steampunk. Imagine a world where gunslingers and kung fu masters face off against Steam Barons and the August Throne. Imagine fantastic machines powered by the furies comprising the fabric of the universe. Imagine an endless frontier where wandering heroes fight for righteous causes while secret societies engage in shadow wars. Imagine…

This game is a combination of Wild Western tropes and Wuxia fantasy. Your characters are wandering heroes, defending the small and helpless against the strong and powerful. I look at this game and I think of movies like The Magnificent Seven. Mechanically, it’s its own system, but it draws heavily from Fate, using positive and negative aspects to boost rolls and spark complications.This game relies on some tropes that require entire table buy-in: I’m not sure how many assumptions the game makes about the cultures it takes inspiration from.

Holler: An Appalachian Apocalypse (Savage Worlds), by Pinnacle Entertainment.

In Holler, the mysterious “Big Boys” own the mines, mills, and logging operations. They rule over every aspect of their workers’ lives—subjecting them to extraordinary dangers on the job and crushing oppression outside of it. The Big Boys have transformed the land of the Holler—rivers bubble with strange chemicals, strip-mined mountains crumble into valleys, and the air is choked with a toxic fog known as the Blight. The flora and fauna of the Holler grow more monstrous by the day. Demons of every description lurk in the forests. Mutant cryptids haunt villages with their strange cries and appetites. Vengeful haints leer from abandoned shacks and lonely cliffs. No one is coming to save the people of Holler.

The goal of the resistance is to build a coalition, to bring together diverse factions—humble workers, roustabouts, mountain men, dirt track racers, cultists, and even strange creatures of myth and legend to raze the works of the Big Boys and drive them from the Holler forever. Holler draws deeply on Appalachian history, mythic folklore, and culture to create a dark fantasy world of apocalypse and vengeance.

This sounds a little more grim and gritty, with cryptids, toxic fog and demons lurking in the forest. It uses the Savage Worlds system, so you’ll have to pick up the codebook to play with it, but the setting is very very fleshed out. This is a little less Wild West and a little more Appalachia, and the setting is a bit more on the horror side than most of the other games on this list, but there’s certainly a lot of wildness out there for you to fight!

TROUPE, by TheOriginalCockatrice.

A game about travel, discovery, and outsiderness, a combination of the best of Old-School and Story Games. Complete with 6 Jobs, including the Ghelf, the Hedge, and the Ogra, and includes a system for holistically coming up with a character from scratch.

The designer describes this game as an exploration of the road; the odd and unknown of the wild, what it means to belong, and what it means to be on the outside. You’re not heroes - you’re entertainers, jokers, healers and bards. There isn’t exactly magic, but there is myth and legend. This is a great game for folks who want plenty of challenges that exist outside of combat. Each character playbook comes with a balance of mechanical elements and descriptive options, and you’ll be rolling 2d6 plus your stat in order to determine success.

I’m not sure how much of a Western this is, but the designer actually hacked this game for BXLLET, a game about gunslingers in the apocalypse, in the zine Bxllet Clip, so it might be worth checking out!

Shotguns & Sorcery, by Full Moon Enterprises.

Welcome to Dragon City, a grim, gritty metropolis ruled over by the Dragon Emperor, with legions of zombies scratching at the city walls by night.

Whether in the streets of Goblintown or the prestigious halls of the Academy of Arcane Apprenticeship, people try to scrape by, make a living, and survive from one day to the next. You, however, are looking for something more than simple survival. And in this city, if you don’t make your own adventure, another adventure is sure to find you.

Shotguns & Sorcery is a fantasy noir game complete with Dragon City Intrigues, roving hoards of undead, and unexplored mountains rife with magical creatures. You’ll see magical staffs alongside light pistols, bows alongside submachine guns, and greatswords alongside canteens, playing cards and a camp stove. The game uses the Cypher System, with an additional character option alongside the three-part character sentence: your race. This includes the signature hafling, elf, dwarf etc.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Knights of the Road, by bordercholly.

[formulafanfics13]

All Eyes On Me - Chapter 19

Masterlist

Disclaimer:

This fanfic will contain mature themes and topics (smut, abuse, power imbalance, drug use, alcohol dependency, control, and eating disorders). There will not be warnings throughout, so if you proceed with this fic, please bear this in mind!

The soft hum of industrial steamers filled the room as racks of pale pink, blush-toned, and cherry-red garments hung under bright surgical lighting. Stylists and assistants moved quietly like dancers, pressing silk, organizing jewelry trays, and double-checking shoe options.

At the far end of the room, a wide mirror spanned the wall, the unofficial confession booth where the girls stood one by one, being measured, fitted, and scrutinized.

Julia stood at the center of it all. Tablet in hand. Calm. Focused. Watching everything. Tracking everything. Karen stood beside her silently, arms crossed, only speaking when necessary.

The door to the prep room opened and the girls filtered in, flawless on the surface, but with just the faintest edges of wear beneath their perfect skin. Martha walked in first, fresh from IV drips and a 5AM vitamin infusion, face dewy under the lights. Her joggers sat low on her hips, her oversized hoodie swallowing her tiny frame, but her eyes still carried that faint, constant glassiness. Gigi followed, hair pulled back into a slick bun, face already powdered, lip gloss perfectly applied, though her pupils were still just a fraction too wide. Lila, Barbara, and Taylor trailed behind, all equally polished, equally exhausted, equally pretending everything was normal.

Because this was normal.

Julia's voice cut through softly. "Good morning, angels."

"Morning," they all responded nearly in unison, automatic.

Julia glanced at her tablet. "Let's get started. We're fitting final sets for paddock content today, previewing Shanghai Fashion edits, and confirming your FP1 and FP2 filming looks."

Karen added quietly, "Full schedule today. No complaints. No delays."

There never were.

Lila was up first, stepping onto the small raised platform as two stylists surrounded her with measuring tapes and fabric samples.

"Weight is stable," Karen noted softly.

Julia scanned her screen. "Maintain her set cuts. Slight waist cinch before Monaco."

Lila smirked as the stylist tightened the measurement at her ribs. "I'm already excited for the Monaco dress."

"Behave and you'll still fit in it," Julia said without even looking up.

Barbara followed next, seamless as always. No adjustments necessary. Her frame was holding perfectly.

"Stable. Strong," Karen noted.

"Push glutes training lightly this week," Julia added.

Taylor stepped forward after. The stylists worked fast around her, adjusting shoulder straps and measuring her thighs.

"Minor water retention," Karen observed.

"Flush it before media day," Julia ordered.

"Already booked," Karen confirmed.

Gigi stepped forward, eyes darting briefly to Julia's tablet as the tape wrapped around her waist.

"Slight facial swelling," Karen said, cold but clinical.

Julia glanced up for just a second. "Sodium pull immediately after today's filming. Keep fluids tight."

Gigi forced a little smile. "Already on it."

And then it was Martha's turn. She stepped up silently, hoodie sliding off her shoulders, sports bra perfectly fitted underneath. The stylist circled her quickly, tapping measurements into her device.

"Waist down again," Karen murmured.

Julia's eyes stayed pinned to the screen. "Two centimetres."

Karen's voice lowered further, her tone sharp but steady. "She's on the edge of drop zone."

Julia paused for a moment, calculating, then nodded once, calm as ever.

"Hold her here," she ordered. "No more loss until Europe. Push electrolyte balance. Adjust sleep cycles."

Martha stood perfectly still. She didn't react. She never did.

The stylist glanced up. "Her Shanghai walk set's already adjusted."

"Good," Julia said flatly. "No further cuts."

As Martha stepped down, Julia finally looked up at all five girls, her expression still warm on the surface, but sharper underneath.

"After the week off after this race, we're entering back-to-back weekends," she reminded them softly. "The calendar's accelerating. The world's watching."

The girls nodded, listening closely. This was the reminder they always got right before things got harder.

Karen folded her arms. "The drivers have the easy job today. You don't. FP1 and FP2 are theirs. Media content is yours."

Barbara smiled dryly. "As always."

Julia's lips barely twitched into a faint smile. "They'll drive. You'll sell."

Lila let out a low breath, already fixing her ponytail tighter. "Let's get on with it."

As the fitting team cleared the last of the garments, Julia's voice dropped, the faintest edge of steel sliding beneath her polished words.

"Stay sharp today. No slip-ups."

Taylor spoke softly as they all turned toward the door. "We don't slip."

Julia's smile sharpened just slightly. "Good."

The pitlane buzzed under the sharp Shanghai sun. Engines roared down the main straight, tires screamed through corners, and inside the garages, the controlled chaos of Formula 1 was fully alive. The models entered the garages in perfect order, their movements rehearsed, their presence carefully scheduled down to the minute.

Martha stepped into the cool shadow of the Mercedes garage, her long cherry-red custom gym set hugging every curve with surgical precision. The VS x F1 logo sat perfectly over her left ribcage like a stamp of ownership.

Toto was there, arms folded, his eyes cutting to her the second she entered. She smiled softly, offering him a polite nod as she approached her designated spot beside the team strategists. Her posture was flawless, her breathing calm. But beneath her oversized sunglasses? The faint tremble of exhaustion still lived.

"Good morning, Mr. Wolff," she greeted.

Toto gave a small nod, voice smooth. "Morning, Martha."

His gaze lingered just a second longer than necessary, not in lust, but in quiet calculation. He noticed how sharp her jaw looked. How small her waist had gotten. How pale the inside of her wrists appeared as she adjusted her headset. And she knew he was noticing.

Across the pitlane, Gigi slipped into the Williams garage with that easy, practiced confidence that always made her look perfectly in control, even when she wasn't. Her cropped set showed off her ribs just enough, hair slicked back in a tight ponytail.

James Vowles greeted her with a faint smile. "Nice to have you with us again."

Gigi grinned, sliding on her headset. "Wouldn't miss it."

She caught Logan giving her a sneaky glance over his shoulder as he reviewed tire data. Alex gave her a small wave from his seat, grinning like the schoolboy he sometimes still was.

The cameras captured every move, and Gigi played directly to them.

Barbara stepped lightly across the Haas entry, her movements effortless, her body language always just the right amount of reserved. Her ice-pink gym set contrasted with the matte black of the Haas uniforms, making her look like a foreign object of perfection against the grit of the garage. Gunther Steiner gave her a quick nod without saying much, always watching but never engaging too deeply.

Nico and Kevin both stole glances when they thought no one was looking. Barbara pretended not to notice, but she saw everything. And they both knew it.

Taylor practically floated into Aston Martin, hips swinging as she adjusted her fitted crew jacket over the neon-accented gym wear they'd designed just for this race. Mike Krack greeted her with a polite nod, professional but slightly stiff. Lance gave her a quick smile as he ducked past toward the garage screens. Fernando didn't say much, but his eyes tracked her movements like a hawk the second she entered.

Taylor took her seat quietly, crossing her legs, letting the cameras catch her profile. Poised. Soft. Deadly.

Finally, Lila slipped into Red Bull with her signature lazy smirk, her lips glossed, her ponytail bouncing. She belonged here almost too easily, her energy matching the high voltage of the Red Bull brand.

Christian offered her a brief smile as she entered. Max didn't even turn his head fully, but his eyes flicked sideways under his cap, tracking her entrance. Daniel, on the other hand, grinned wide and gave her an exaggerated wink, which Lila returned with a slow roll of her eyes.

She slid into her assigned seat beside the engineers, barely pretending to look at the data screens in front of her. She wasn't here for the data. She was here to be seen.

Behind the tinted pit wall glass, cameras snapped, journalists whispered, and team principals stole quiet glances at the girls in their garages, each of them still wondering how much longer this campaign could stay balanced.

The girls were perfect. The system still functioned. The fall hadn't come yet. But every weekend? It got closer.

The soft roar of engines bounced off the pit wall as Lewis and George tore around the circuit, the tire blankets stacked neatly beside the garage entry, engineers glued to their monitors, every screen flashing live telemetry: tire temps, lap deltas, sector times.

Martha sat quietly where she'd been assigned, sleek headset already resting against her temples. Her long legs were crossed neatly, hands resting on her lap, every inch of her still screaming perfect, composed, controllable.

But behind the sunglasses, her eyes tracked every monitor. She wasn't zoning out. She was watching.

Toto stood a few feet away at first, arms folded, his usual neutral stance as he quietly kept one ear on the engineer's feeds. But his eyes kept drifting to her, not in that way most of the men looked at the models, but in curiosity. Because unlike most people in these garages? Martha wasn't pretending. She was genuinely trying to follow what she was seeing.

After a few minutes, he stepped closer. He gently reached out and tapped the side of her headset, just briefly. "Would you like to listen in?" he asked quietly.

Martha glanced up at him, pulling her sunglasses slightly down her nose. The faintest flicker of amusement flashed behind her eyes, but she nodded once. "I would."

Toto made a small gesture to one of the engineers, who quickly adjusted her comms feed. A second later, Martha could hear the clipped voices of George and Lewis feeding back information: braking zones, tire degradation, minor balance complaints. The sound of the race's heartbeat filled her ears.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't panic. She was paying attention.

Toto watched her silently for a few more beats. Then, seeing her lean forward toward the screen in front of her, eyes darting between the sector times, he finally broke his own rule and spoke softly again.

"This number here-" he pointed toward the delta column, his voice low, private, only for her beneath the constant noise of the garage- "That's the time difference between sectors. You see the green? That means they've improved that sector from their previous lap."

Martha blinked, following his finger.

"Green is better. Purple is best," she murmured, almost more to herself, locking it into memory.

Toto's lips twitched into something close to approval. "Exactly."

He let her watch for another minute before quietly adding: "This column is tire temperature. Right now we're managing surface temps, too hot and the degradation spikes."

Martha tilted her head slightly, gaze still fixed. "So the balance changes lap to lap based on how the tires heat."

"Correct." He glanced sideways again, and this time he couldn't help but be faintly impressed.

She wasn't asking to impress him. She was genuinely absorbing it.

In that small moment, Martha wasn't a model under management or a PR prop dressed in VS pink. She was curious. Sharp. Watching. And Toto saw it.

For the briefest moment, the balance shifted between them.

The engines roared again as Lewis pushed a new lap, purple sector flashing across the screen. The engineers cheered faintly over the radio. The garage remained locked in controlled chaos. But behind them, Martha's eyes stayed pinned to the screen, breathing steadily. And Toto? He watched her a little differently now.

The session clock ticked down on the monitors, engines humming softer now as both Mercedes cars rolled back into the pitlane. Around him, the engineers dispersed into small groups, already analyzing data, reviewing tire wear, brake feedback, energy deployment.

But Toto didn't move. He kept his eyes fixed on Martha. She was still watching the screens even after the run had ended, her head tilted ever so slightly as she traced the data columns with her gaze. The small crease between her brows told him she was still trying to put together the pieces of what she'd absorbed during that first session.

She wasn't faking it. Toto's mind clicked through layers as he watched her. For the last two weeks, he'd viewed these girls like everyone else had: perfectly packaged distractions, beautiful, compliant, controllable. Good for business. Good for optics. But sitting beside him now, high on discipline and a cocktail of management-approved stimulants, was a woman who was clearly observing the machine around her. Not just existing in it. And that scared him more than if she'd been clueless. Because intelligence made everything more dangerous. Control harder to maintain.

She's watching us, he thought quietly. Not just playing her part. The others? They smiled and waved and posed. But Martha? Martha was learning. And that was a different kind of threat.

On the opposite side of the pitlane, in the storm of Red Bull's buzzing garage, Lila sat beside one of the strategy analysts, her glossy ponytail bouncing lightly as she shifted in her chair. The bright pink-red VS crop top hugged her perfectly; the cameras behind the glass wall caught every inch of her flawless profile.

But her eyes let everyone know that she was completely lost.

The screen in front of her flickered with sector deltas, tire temps, energy deployment charts, all rapidly changing as the engineers reviewed Max's and Daniel's FP1 runs. Christian Horner glanced over and noticed the way she was squinting at the data screen, her head tilting like she was staring at a foreign language. "You following any of this?" he asked, voice light, attempting to sound warm, harmless.

Lila laughed, leaning back slightly in her chair. "Not even a little."

Christian smirked. "That's okay. Half the grid doesn't understand all of it either."

She flashed him that perfect, rehearsed smile. "I'm here for the vibe, not the numbers."

The engineer beside her chuckled lightly. Lila continued, playing her role effortlessly. "I think as long as Max wins, I'm happy?"

Christian grinned, pleased by the answer. She was exactly what they expected her to be: poised, playful, perfectly in place, asking no questions.

Across the garage, Daniel glanced back briefly with that lazy grin of his, giving her a wink that earned another practised giggle. Everything was working exactly as management intended. No one in Red Bull thought twice. Lila fit the program perfectly.

Back in Mercedes, Toto folded his arms tighter, jaw working slightly as he kept watching Martha as she finally peeled off her headset. She wasn't slipping yet. But she was watching. And she was far more dangerous than anyone realised.

The girls moved like clockwork through the content shoot area, sleek modular tents draped in soft pink branding, the official Victoria's Secret x Formula 1 logos stamped across every backdrop. Lighting rigs hung from the trusses above, throwing an angelic glow over every perfect jawline, every high ponytail.

Martha, Gigi, Lila, Taylor, and Barbara reunited in full glam, dressed in their paddock content outfits: sharp, coordinated sets that barely resembled gymwear anymore, high-cut leggings, plunging tops, tiny waist-cinching belts, and stilettos that screamed designer.

A production assistant counted them in.

"Rolling! Big smiles, girls, energy up!"

The girls delivered instantly. "Welcome to the Shanghai GP!" Taylor chirped into the camera, eyes sparkling.

Gigi draped her arm around Lila's waist. "We're here for another incredible weekend—"

"And you'll be seeing plenty of us around the paddock," Barbara added with that effortless softness she wore like perfume.

Martha stood dead center, her voice steady, syrupy sweet beneath the bright studio lights. "We're so excited to be back on the grid. The teams have been incredible this weekend, as always."

Behind the cameras, Julia stood watching, arms folded, expression locked in place. Beside her, Karen scanned the monitors, ensuring every frame was perfect.

The girls looked flawless. The world would see nothing less.

A handful of team principals gathered around a high corner table. The paddock kitchen staff moved discreetly behind them, laying out fresh coffee, sandwiches, and imported pastries flown in that morning.

Toto, Fred, Gunther, and Zak had all retreated here while their drivers sat further back in their own technical meetings, locked in data reviews for FP1.

Zak stirred his coffee. "Honestly, I thought Shanghai would feel more insane with the girls around, but so far... pretty smooth."

Gunther scoffed lightly. "Because it's early."

Fred hummed, his tone dry. "The real circus starts tomorrow."

Toto sipped his espresso but didn't look up right away. The other men glanced at him when he finally spoke, softer, almost like he was still processing something. "I sat with Martha this morning."

Gunther raised a brow. "In the garage?"

Toto nodded. "She was watching the data screens."

Zak smiled faintly. "Well, I suppose they have to pretend some level of interest, don't they? Cameras everywhere."

"No," Toto corrected, finally meeting their eyes. "She wasn't pretending."

Fred leaned forward slightly, sensing the weight behind Toto's voice.

"She was following sector deltas," Toto continued, voice calm but laced with something heavier. "Asked about tire temps. Understood what purple sectors meant. She was watching like someone trying to learn, not someone performing."

Gunther narrowed his eyes slightly. "You think she's studying?"

Toto exhaled. "I think she's observing. And absorbing far more than we realised or thought they would."

Zak let out a small breath. "Most of them barely know where their drivers are on track."

Fred added, his voice lower, more serious, "Martha's sharp."

"Very sharp," Toto agreed. "Sharper than I initially assumed."

The table fell quiet for a beat, each man processing what that meant.

Gunther finally broke it, voice drier than usual. "Well... smart girls are harder to control."

Toto's eyes darkened, his voice almost flat. "Exactly."

Back at the filming tent, the girls laughed for the cameras. The content producers clapped between takes. The models twirled, posed, and smiled like nothing in the world existed beyond these perfectly lit frames. And in the corner, Julia watched. Karen stood beside her. Both knowing exactly how close the balance was starting to tilt.

The suite had been transformed into a velvet-draped sanctuary of curated luxury. Low golden lighting shimmered against glass walls that overlooked the neon Shanghai skyline. Soft ambient house music pulsed under the low hum of designer conversation. Waiters drifted seamlessly with trays of champagne flutes and crystal-cut whiskey glasses.

This was no press event. No public spectacle. This was for them. The inner circle. The models arrived first, perfectly styled, effortlessly magnetic.

Martha led as always, dressed in a cherry silk slip dress that clung like a second skin, her dark hair pulled back into a slick bun, long diamond-drop earrings catching the light. Her body looked delicate but deliberate, every inch controlled. Gigi followed in a backless pale pink gown, lips glossed to perfection, moving like liquid sex through the room. Taylor wore a sharp white corset mini dress with crystal straps, all legs and laughter as she scanned the room. Lila, in an ice blue silk halter that left little to the imagination, her movements lazy, calculated, a cat among wolves. Barbara, sleek in black, classic and quietly lethal in how simply flawless she looked.

Already scattered across the suite were the drivers and team principals, standing in small clusters, drinks in hand. Lewis, glass of whiskey between his fingers, his eyes immediately tracking Martha as she entered. Toto, standing near the far windows with Fred, Zak, and Gunther, all mid-conversation that paused the moment the girls walked in. Christian, already laughing with a sponsor, glancing over as Lila caught his eye. Daniel, leaning casually against the bar, giving the models a grin that could start fires. The rest of the grid were peppered throughout the suite, some trying not to stare, others fully locked onto the girls' entrance.

They always commanded the room.

David hovered near the door, immediately flanked by Julia and Karen, both scanning the room with eyes like hawks hidden under soft smiles. Always watching. Always controlling. As the models settled into the social web, drinks found their hands like magic. The mingling began.

Martha drifted near Toto and Fred's circle, catching the last threads of whatever technical conversation had just been happening.

"Martha," Toto greeted with a quiet nod, his voice lower, almost private.

She smiled softly, voice like silk. "Evening, Wolff."

Fred raised his glass slightly. "You're holding up well after today."

Martha's lips twitched into a small smile. "It's easier when you start to understand the numbers."

Toto's brow lifted slightly, again, the flash of intelligence. "You've been paying attention."

"I like patterns," she said simply, sipping her champagne. "Sector times are just patterns."

Zak smiled faintly. "We may have to hire you as a strategist."

Martha gave a soft laugh, but behind her eyes, Toto could still see the weight she was balancing so flawlessly. She was playing her part. But there was always something deeper.

Elsewhere in the room, Gigi was speaking quietly with James Vowles, making him laugh too easily, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as she asked innocent questions about tire compounds she absolutely didn't care about.

Taylor and George were tucked in a corner near the balcony, already exchanging playful grins and softly flirting without fully committing. Lila was being entirely too dangerous with Christian Horner, standing close enough to make him nervous but saying just enough polite small talk to keep Geri from starting rumours.

Barbara floated between drivers, quiet, unbothered, sipping her drink as she ignored the dozen hungry eyes still watching her.

At the far end, Karen and Julia watched it all. "They're performing well tonight," Karen said softly.

Julia nodded, voice just as calm. "They always do."

"But it's getting tighter," Karen murmured.

Julia sipped her drink, eyes scanning the room. "As long as they keep performing, it doesn't matter."

Across the suite, Toto caught another glimpse of Martha as she crossed to speak with Lewis. His gaze sharpened again. She wasn't slipping yet. But she was thinking.

And for Toto? That was more dangerous than any scandal.

The soft chatter of the party lowered as David raised his voice, clapping his hands once for attention. His smile was wide, polished, perfectly performative.

"Alright everyone, let's get one group shot while we have the full circus under one roof."

Laughter rippled through the room as the models, drivers, and team principals moved toward the makeshift photo area, a long stretch of floor-to-ceiling windows with the Shanghai skyline glittering behind them.

The photographers arranged the group quickly: team principals in the back row, drivers in front, the models sliding seamlessly into the empty spaces between the men.

Except for Martha. While the others shifted into place, Martha stepped smoothly back, drifting toward Julia and Karen behind the camera, her movements practiced, almost casual.

Karen didn't flinch. Julia didn't react. They all knew. David barely looked at her as she stepped aside, because they'd planned for this. Jacob would not tolerate a photo of Martha standing shoulder-to-shoulder with thirty men.

Across the group, Daniel Ricciardo caught her movement, his easy grin flashing as he waved her over. "Oi! M, come stand with us! Don't make me look short next to Lando."

A few of the drivers laughed. Martha smiled warmly, that same syrupy softness she always wore when she had to deflect. "I'm good here, Daniel," she called back smoothly. "You boys look prettier without me blocking the skyline."

The group chuckled again, and Daniel let it go, still completely unaware of the very real chain tugging on the other end of her phone. The camera clicked away, flashes illuminating polished faces, sparkling gowns, and perfectly tailored suits. One missing model. But the photo would still look flawless. As the group filtered back into their smaller circles, George Russell found himself standing near Lila, drink in hand, his curiosity finally pushing past his polite British hesitation.

"Hey," George said, lowering his voice slightly. "Why wasn't Martha in the photo?"

Lila smiled, that perfect, knowing little smile. She sipped her champagne, leaning in just enough for only him to hear. "Martha's boyfriend doesn't like her being photographed surrounded by men."

George blinked. "Really?"

Lila's tone stayed light, flippant, but her eyes didn't match the softness in her voice. "Let's just say... it avoids unnecessary drama."

George opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but stopped. Because what was there to say?

The unspoken answer was simple: Everyone knows. No one talks.

Lila gave him one more small smile, her voice playful again. "Don't worry. We've all got our contracts."

And just like that, she walked away, leaving George standing there, holding his drink, suddenly far more aware of how heavy the world behind these girls really was.

The party pulsed on like clockwork, soft beats humming under the expensive hush of designer perfume, laughter, and expertly mixed cocktails. The models were still glittering centerpieces, floating seamlessly through the different circles — perfectly choreographed chaos.

Charles Leclerc leaned against the edge of the bar, nursing his drink, eyes flitting across the suite as he pretended to listen to whatever Carlos was saying beside him. His gaze repeatedly tracked Taylor, who was laughing dramatically near the balcony with George. She caught his glance once, smiled, and turned away just enough to let him chase it with his eyes.

Pierre Gasly, unsurprisingly, couldn't keep his eyes off Gigi, who was draped like a goddess near the private lounge seating. She was half-sprawled on the velvet armchair, one leg crossed dangerously high, playing with the rim of her champagne flute like it was a game. She knew Pierre was watching.

Lando Norris lingered near the dessert table with Oscar, trying far too hard to look casual while his gaze kept locking onto Martha.

She stood at the far edge of the suite, surrounded by her management, smiling softly while speaking with one of the VS sponsors. Her red silk dress glowed under the chandelier's light, and even from across the room, Lando could see how much smaller her frame had gotten.

Oscar nudged him lightly. "You good?"

Lando sipped his drink, pretending not to react. "Yeah. Just... looking."

Daniel Ricciardo, as always, played it looser, drifting between groups, making everyone laugh, but stealing his own glances toward Lila, who now stood speaking to Christian Horner again, one hand idly swirling the ice in her cocktail.

She was so comfortable standing too close to danger. And Daniel couldn't look away.

By the far windows, Toto and Lewis stood quietly, detached from the mingling, their glasses nearly untouched. Lewis watched Martha again, his jaw tightening slightly as he watched her politely nod to the sponsor still talking her ear off.

"She's barely eating," Lewis murmured under his breath.

Toto didn't look away. "She's clearly getting smaller each week."

"They're all on something," Lewis whispered, his voice heavier now. "And no one cares."

Toto's jaw flexed. "They care about the content."

Lewis shook his head, his voice lowering even further. "She stood behind the camera for that photo tonight. She knows exactly how tight the leash is."

Toto's gaze hardened slightly, eyes narrowing as he followed Martha's movements.

"She's smart," he said. "Far smarter than they've accounted for."

Lewis exhaled through his nose. "And one of these weekends, it's going to collapse."

Toto glanced at him now, his voice barely above a whisper. "The collapse is already happening. They just haven't noticed it yet."

They both fell silent again, watching as the models kept floating, the drivers kept staring, and the management kept smiling.

A perfect world. On the brink of a silent, glossy disaster.

The Saturday schedule unfolded with perfect precision:

FP3 ran smoothly. The girls were present in their assigned garages, smiling and performing exactly as scheduled.

Qualifying came and went. The cameras caught every perfect glimpse of the models mingling with the teams, posing at the pit wall, generating the exact level of viral media content the campaign thrived on.

The evening closed with a short, controlled media dinner, the drivers, the models, and key team principals all making public appearances, while Julia and David monitored everything like quiet puppeteers.

No missteps. No scandal. Just... perfect.

The paddock was already humming with energy. Engines fired in the distance, mechanics moved like soldiers, and cameras flashed in every direction. The girls arrived together, flawless. All five stepped out of the black SUVs in coordinated race-day outfits: sharp pink satin blazers cinched at the waist, custom VS-designed high-waisted trousers, strappy nude heels, and delicate diamond jewelry that glittered under the Shanghai sun.

Their hair was slick, their makeup dewy, their bodies tight. No trace of exhaustion visible. Martha led as always, her silk ponytail whip-crisp against her shoulder blades, her eyes hidden behind oversized shades. The world saw nothing but composure. As they entered the paddock, Gigi slowed her pace slightly to walk closer to Martha. She clocked it instantly, the faint, barely perceptible shake in Martha's right hand.

A tremor. Small. Controlled. But there.

"You okay?" Gigi asked softly, keeping her tone light, casual, as if discussing lip gloss.

Martha didn't break stride. She breathed in once, steadying her voice. "Not looking forward to going home to Jacob tomorrow."

Gigi didn't press. She didn't need to. They both understood. Instead, Gigi gave her the smallest nod of silent solidarity, brushing her arm gently against Martha's as they kept walking. And just like that, the performance continued.

Saturday went by smoothly, and on Sunday? The energy in the paddock was electric. The grandstands pulsed with flags, cameras, and screaming fans. Engine notes screamed down the pit straight as formation laps circled the track.

But inside the private, glass-walled VIP suite, the girls were untouchable. The paddock club had been custom-dressed for Victoria's Secret, soft blush velvet couches, pale pink floral arrangements, champagne towers glittering like crystals under the Shanghai sun.

Every angle was ready for content. Every lens was positioned to capture perfection. The five models sat along the private window seating, cameras occasionally flashing through the tinted glass as fans and media tried to capture even the faintest glimpse of them.

Martha sat cross-legged, calm and composed, her cherry silk dress smooth and flawless, oversized sunglasses perched high. She held a champagne flute delicately in one hand, her fingers steady now, her face unreadable.

Gigi lounged beside her, one arm draped along the couch, speaking softly to one of the VIP sponsors as her glossy lips curved into practiced smiles between every polite sip. Lila had kicked off her heels entirely, curled up like a spoiled cat, lazily scrolling through her phone while occasionally peeking at the giant screen displaying the live race feed.

Barbara crossed her legs at the ankle, chin tilted elegantly as she watched the live sector times flicker on the nearby monitor, her quiet confidence humming like electricity beneath her stillness. Taylor leaned over toward Lila, whispering something that made both of them giggle—not too loud, just perfectly performative for anyone watching from behind the camera.

On the track, the race unfolded:

Max led early. Lewis and Charles fought for position behind. McLaren, Red Bull, Ferrari, Mercedes, all battling sector by sector. The drivers ran inches from death at 320 kilometers per hour.

Inside the suite, the girls remained unbothered. From across the VIP floor, David and Julia stood near the bar, keeping one eye on the girls and one eye on the ever-present content team discreetly filming behind soft-focus lenses.

Karen sat nearby with her tablet, quietly tracking the girls' real-time media metrics as their faces went viral across TikTok and Instagram again.

Julia's voice was steady. "Perfect coverage today."

David nodded. "No issues. Just how we like it."

"They're holding beautifully," Karen added, not looking up.

They weren't talking about the race.

As Max crossed the finish line and fireworks burst over the Shanghai skyline, the models rose from their seats for the final applause, smiling for the cameras like they weren't counting the hours until the next city, the next fitting, the next control meeting.

Martha clinked her glass gently against Gigi's. "Another one done," Gigi whispered under her breath.

Martha's lips curled. "Another one done."

The entire top floor had been sealed for the girls, management, and a select few sponsors. No press. No drivers. Just their circle. The suite glowed in soft blush and gold, dimly lit like a velvet cocoon high above the Shanghai skyline. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflected crystal glasses and expensive smiles. House music pulsed in the background, not loud enough to be chaotic, but just loud enough to drown out any lingering exhaustion.

This was their reward. Their carefully curated release valve. The girls were already buzzing. Lila danced barefoot across the slick marble, silk robe floating behind her, laughing as Gigi handed her a fresh glass of champagne. Barbara lay sprawled across the oversized sectional, head resting back, one heel still on, the other kicked into the corner hours ago. Taylor sat perched on the armrest, legs crossed, lazily scrolling through videos of their content clips that were already flooding TikTok and Instagram, the likes climbing by the second. Martha stood near the long dining table, sipping slowly, watching the others with that same calm, dangerous stillness she always wore. Her dress had been swapped for a soft pink satin pajama set, the fabric slipping off one shoulder, her diamond necklace still around her throat like a leash she couldn't unclasp.

Karen stood nearby, arms folded, eyes sharp but calm, monitoring the flow like a nightclub manager balancing chaos and profit. Julia sat on the low velvet chair, tablet in hand, already updating intake logs, noting the lines consumed, the alcohol levels, the IV doses scheduled before morning call time. David stood further back, speaking softly with one of the VS executives, but still watching them like a zookeeper watches lions in an open enclosure.

Everything was under control. Exactly as designed.

Lila stumbled slightly as she spun toward Martha, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy but still sharp. "Tell me again why we even bother pretending this isn't the best part of the job?" she teased, her words slightly slurred but deliberate.

Martha smiled faintly, swirling the champagne in her glass. "Because they like to sell the fantasy that we're working."

Taylor giggled behind them. "Working. Functioning. Whatever we're calling it this month."

Barbara hummed softly from the couch. "We're profitable. That's what matters."

Gigi stepped closer to Martha, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, a small, intimate gesture only the girls ever offered each other when management was close. "You good?" she asked quietly, voice soft under the buzz of the room.

Martha's smile never faltered. "Perfect." The same lie. Every time.

Julia looked up briefly, eyes sharp as a blade beneath her soft expression. "They're fine," she said under her breath to Karen. "Stable tonight."

Karen nodded once. 

The suite pulsed on, pink, glittering, expensive, dangerously perfect. On the surface: A victory party. A celebration.

Beneath it: Another night inside the system. Another high. Another countdown to collapse.

[whencyclopedia]

Raiders, Rulers, and Traders: The Horse and the Rise of Empires

Chaffetz deftly illustrates the vast history of Asia and its great empires -- Chinese, Persian, Indian, and Mongol -- through a history of horsepower. The cultures of the people of the steppe, their religions, technology, and migrations also come into play. Expertly, Chaffetz shows that horse breeding and trading, not the fabled Silk Road, linked these historical forces together over time and distance.

The Silk Road may have carried the world’s most luxurious fabrics for trade, but it was paved with horses’ hooves. From the Bronze Age to the 20th century, the empires of China, Persia, India, and Mongolia conquered astride the backs of horses. By focusing on the history of the horse in Raiders, Rulers, and Traders, David Chaffetz provides fascinating insights into conquests in history, from the Persian Empire of Cyrus the Great to the Russian Empire of Alexander II.

Chaffetz traces the evolution of the horse from a wild animal of the Eurasian steppe to its place at the center of war and commerce over almost 3,000 years of human history. The earliest horses weren’t much larger than donkeys. He shows that the first domesticated horses pulled carts and chariots — as it took centuries of breeding until they were strong enough to carry humans. The breeds of horses reflected the cultures that adopted them: the sleek, speedy raiders of Arabia; the huge, powerful Persian steeds; and the sturdy Mongol breeds whose endurance and ability to thrive in harsh conditions were key to Ghengis Khan’s continent-spanning conquests. Maps of the Eurasian Steppe in every chapter help readers to keep track of the disparate locations, and illustrations show the artifacts that these cultures created to celebrate horsemanship.

Of the empires covered in the book, China gets a special focus. The Great Wall was built by the Qin Dynasty in the 2nd century BCE to protect the northern frontier from horse-mounted raiders. Yet China needed horses for its own armies, and large-scale horse breeding was difficult in the hills and fertile valleys south of the wall. A sophisticated trading network grew along the frontier in which trade goods like silk and tea were traded were exchanged for animals.

The Silk Road grew in the wake of a 1st-century BCE military expedition led by the Hun general, Li Guan Li, to find the “blood-sweating” Ferghana horses that nomads had described to Chinese horse traders. Braving high mountain passes and arid wastes in a journey that presaged those of Coronado and Lewis & Clark in North America, Li laid siege to a citadel near the present-day Kyrgyz city of Aravan. His reward was 300 of these “celestial horses” along with a promise of 2 horses every year thereafter. These yearly journeys, and the return of payments of silk and other commodities, established the Silk Road.

Indian emperors also relied on imported horses from central Asia. In a region whose jungles and deserts were unsuitable for breeding horses, huge trade fairs arose across India, where rajas met Afghani horse breeders to do business. Like China, India faced waves of horse-borne invaders from Afghanistan and Persia. As the sea trade with Arabia and, later, Europe developed, southern Indian rulers gained key means to defend their lands.

Horsepower remained the key to empires into the dawn of the 20th century, during which gasoline-powered vehicles arose. In later chapters Chaffetz covers Britain’s strained efforts to breed horses in India – and strike deals with Afthani traders – as well as the Russian Empire’s use of cossack cavalries to conquer the steppe.

In appendices, Chaffetz details the prices of horses in China and India in both historic and present-day terms. A timeline connects concurrent developments in the Western Steppe (Persia) the Indian Subcontinent and the Eastern Steppe.

Chaffetz writes frequently for publications like Asian Review of Books and is a member of the Royal Society for Asian Affairs. Raiders, Rulers, and Traders is a broad history that will augment readers’ knowledge of the great empires of Asia. Its focus on horse husbandry is a useful gateway into history for reluctant learners.

Continue reading...

[chatsukimi]

Types of people as friends of mine

*when you can’t help but appreciate the people in your life

Romantic: bubbly laugh with crying eyes, childish jokes, spontaneous, shy, anime + manga list on post it note, hopeless romantic, indecision, short attention span, funny, curly hair, beautiful-oblivious, dark circles under eyes from sleepless nights, inferiority complex, doodles, follows rules by authority, nice, childhood crush’s sunflowers on drawer

Cynic: witty, warm hands, loyal fists, courageous, family over everything, secrets + facts, strong gaze, pencil scribbles on table, wrestling a sibling, cucumbers, competitive, computer games in class, sunlight, touches (aggressive and gentle), mothering, dependent and independent, middle child, joking gaslighting, uncommon common sense, unbelievable life stories, religious, competitive, caring, inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times, middle fingers at one’s enemies, bass beat of a club

Pessimist: dyed blue-black hair, alternative, black eyeliner, 50000 tabs open, murmurs, Six of Crows, morse code on revision sheet, silence, round glasses, stuttering laugh, mystery novels, K-drama, “mysterious”, burnt out gifted only child, introverted, drapes pride flag as a cape, pining for childhood heroes, leather jackets, fresh smell of books, fireplace, apathetic face, shares a brain cell with the romantic

Realist: golf on Sundays, maths equations, pushover, bathroom science experiments, critical, parental expectation, wine events, stubborn, slow words, slouching to hear others, gifted kid, jealousy, reliable, cursive text, sheltered, scathingly sarcastic, explanations to friends about school, hard working, overthinking

Absurdist: charismatic, midnight gym sessions, mimics friends’ movements, trespasses, calls of their name, independent, everyone likes them, knowing smiles, pull ups on a goal post, black cat, nights off the face of the earth, intellectual what-ifs, playful eyes (long periods of eye contact), chill, “that’s fine”, peaceful, coffee coffee coffee, dreams, doing before thinking, thrill-seeking, logical, music tastes reloading, direct, brave, reckless

Optimist: messy handwriting, cold hands, expensive coats handed down from family, intuitive phrases, distant, empty smiles, raised eyebrow, talking with strangers, flares of genius, will one day change the world, wandering into unmapped countryside, early mornings, passionate arguments on politics, leader, odd, emotion felt through piano, hopping on the spot, open-minded, ambitious, forgetful, sleeps in class, visionary, confident, “intelligent but insane”

Deontologist- smile of a little kid, teacher’s pet, anxious when imperfect, chocolate gelato at family movie nights, polite, golden retriever, righteous anger, serious gaze, baritone, supportive parents, fair but vindictive, polyglot, musicals, lover not a fighter, simple life, hidden past (turned success story), Mediterranean beaches, commitment, accepting, holds open doors, gifts from Europe, worried for optimist's happy-go-lucky attitude

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Erin Reed at Erin In The Morning:

In recent years, U.S. politicians have selectively framed European healthcare policies to justify restrictions on transgender care, seizing on a handful of conservative policies to claim that “Europe is pulling back.” The most extreme example, the United Kingdom’s Cass Review, has been wielded to justify a near-total ban on puberty blockers and even cited in U.S. Supreme Court arguments. But new medical guidelines from Germany, Austria, and Switzerland tell a different story. These countries have reaffirmed the importance of gender-affirming care for transgender youth and issued sharp critiques of the Cass Review, calling out its severe methodological flaws and misrepresentations.

The guidelines, released Friday in German, span more than 400 pages and represent the collective expertise of 26 medical and psychotherapeutic professional organizations, along with two self-representation organizations from Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. Their stated goal is "to provide guidance to all professionals in the healthcare system who deal with young transgender and non-binary people for the best possible professionally informed care based on the current state of medical knowledge." From the outset, the guidelines explain the importance of gender affirming care, stating that there are “no proven effective treatment alternative without body-modifying medical measures for a [person with] permanently persistent gender incongruence.” Importantly, the guidelines were developed with those who are experts in the fields of gender affirming care having a voice at the table, unlike the Cass Review: “Current guidelines, which are published by medical societies, were predominantly developed by clinical experts for the field of application and are based on an integrated synthesis of the assessment of available evidence and the broadest possible expert consensus.” The guidelines directly recommend puberty blockers and individualized, prioritized care for transgender youth undergoing physical changes. In the section on puberty blockers, the guidelines state with a strong recommendation: “If, in individual cases, the progressive pubertal maturation development creates a time pressure in which health damage would be expected due to longer waiting times to avert irreversible bodily changes (e.g. male voice change), access to child and adolescent psychiatric or psychotherapeutic clarification and medical treatment options should be granted as quickly as possible.” The guidelines also deliver a strong critique of the Cass Review, the report currently being used to justify bans on gender-affirming care in the United Kingdom and leveraged in other countries to further restrictions. German medical societies deem the Cass Review largely inapplicable to their own guidelines due to its numerous methodological shortcomings. One of their sharpest criticisms focuses on the lack of transparency regarding those who advised and produced the review, as well as the limited expertise of those involved. [...] The new German, Austrian, and Swiss guidelines mark a significant advancement for transgender healthcare in those countries, reinforcing a growing trend in Europe toward expanding, not restricting, access to gender-affirming care. They join the ranks of nations like Spain and France, which have taken more progressive stances on transgender rights, including medical care.

In a marked contrast to the US and UK’s war on trans rights and existence (see: Donald Trump [US] and Cass Review [UK]), the DACH countries of Germany, Austria, and Switzerland released guidelines on gender-affirming care that expand it for trans youths.

[temporalsunoracle]

Julio Herrera Velutini’s Top 7 Global Investments Shaping Global Markets

In 2025, diversified investments are driving significant shifts across fintech, real estate, and emerging markets.

A key figure in this movement is Julio Herrera Velutini, an Italian banker known for strategic investments spanning Europe, the UAE, and Latin America. His portfolio reflects a strong focus on sustainable growth, fintech innovation, and financial inclusion.

For a detailed breakdown of Julio Herrera Velutini’s global business ventures and investment strategies, read the full report here: 👉 Julio Herrera Velutini and His Business Investments in the Global Market

Stay updated with more global business insights at Washington Insider.

[theanimalsounds]

The European Hamster: A Fascinating and Endangered Rodent

European Hamster

The European Hamster (Cricetus cricetus), also known as the common hamster, is a remarkable rodent native to Europe and parts of Asia. Recognized for its striking fur pattern, cheek pouches, and burrowing lifestyle, this species has long intrigued scientists and animal lovers alike. However, the European hamster is now critically endangered due to habitat destruction, climate change, and human activities. This article explores the European hamster's characteristics, behavior, habitat, diet, and conservation status.

Physical Characteristics

European hamsters are larger than their domesticated counterparts, reaching a body length of 20-34 cm (8-13 inches) and weighing between 200-650 grams (7-23 ounces). They have distinctive reddish-brown fur on their backs, with black bellies and white patches on their faces, paws, and sides. Unlike pet hamsters, which are smaller and bred in captivity, European hamsters have adapted to a wild lifestyle that requires agility and endurance.

Habitat and Distribution

Originally widespread across Central and Eastern Europe, the European hamster's range extends from Belgium and France to Russia and Kazakhstan. They favor open fields, meadows, and farmlands, particularly areas with loamy or clay-rich soils that allow them to construct elaborate underground burrows.

These burrows can be complex networks of tunnels that include separate chambers for sleeping, food storage, and waste disposal. During winter, European hamsters hibernate in these burrows, surviving off food supplies stored in the autumn months.

Behavior and Lifestyle

The European hamster is a solitary and territorial animal, often displaying aggressive tendencies toward others of its species. It is primarily nocturnal, although in some areas, it may also be active during twilight hours.

One of its most fascinating traits is its cheek pouches, which it uses to transport food to storage chambers in its burrow. This species is also known for its strong burrowing instincts, creating tunnels that provide protection from predators like foxes, birds of prey, and domestic cats.

Diet and Feeding Habits

Keeping European hamsters as a pet is not easy, they are omnivorous, meaning they consume both plant and animal matter. Their diet includes:

Seeds and grains (wheat, barley, and corn)

Fruits and vegetables (carrots, apples, and leafy greens)

Insects and small animals (beetles, worms, and even young mice)

During the summer and autumn, they actively gather and store food in their burrows to ensure survival during their hibernation period, which can last from October to March.

Reproduction and Lifespan

European hamsters have a relatively short lifespan of 2-4 years in the wild. They reproduce rapidly, with a breeding season spanning from April to August. A female can have two to three litters per year, with each litter containing between 4 to 12 pups.

After a short gestation period of about 18-20 days, the pups are born blind and hairless. They develop quickly and become independent within 3-4 weeks. However, due to various threats, many do not survive to adulthood.

Conservation Status and Threats

Despite its historical abundance, the European hamster is now classified as Critically Endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). Several factors have contributed to its decline:

Habitat Destruction: Intensive farming, urban expansion, and infrastructure development have drastically reduced their natural habitat.

Climate Change: Altered seasonal patterns disrupt their hibernation cycle and food availability.

Pesticides and Poisons: Agricultural chemicals have poisoned food sources and led to declining populations.

Hunting and Persecution: In some regions, they have been considered agricultural pests and were actively culled.

Conservation Efforts

Several European countries have initiated conservation programs to protect and restore European hamster populations. Some of these efforts include:

Habitat restoration projects to create suitable living conditions.

Captive breeding programs to reintroduce hamsters into the wild.

Legal protection in countries like Germany and France, where it is illegal to harm or kill them.

Organizations and scientists are working tirelessly to raise awareness and reverse the decline of this unique species before it becomes extinct.

Conclusion

The European hamster is a fascinating and ecologically important species that plays a crucial role in its ecosystem. However, human activities have led to a drastic decline in its population, making conservation efforts essential for its survival. By raising awareness and supporting habitat protection programs, we can help ensure that this incredible rodent continues to thrive in the wild for future generations.

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Ross Ulbricht, Founder of the Forbidden Silk Road Website, Granted Full Pardon by Trump

Former President Donald Trump has granted a full pardon to Ross Ulbricht, the founder of the notorious Silk Road website. This dark web marketplace was infamous for facilitating the sale of illegal drugs and was linked to the deaths of at least six individuals.

Ulbricht, now 40 years old, was sentenced to life in prison in 2015 after being convicted on seven charges, including drug distribution and conspiracy to commit computer hacking. He is now a free man. Trump stated that those who convicted Ulbricht were "crazy" and described his sentence as "ridiculous" and a clear example of government overreach.

"I just spoke to Ross's mother to inform her that, in honor of him and the strong libertarian movement that supports me, I am pleased to sign a full and unconditional pardon for her son," Trump said, as reported by BBC.

Silk Road was shut down in 2013 after law enforcement arrested Ulbricht. The site was known for selling illegal drugs using Bitcoin, as well as hacking tools and stolen passports. During the trial, prosecutors claimed that the website facilitated the sale of drugs worth approximately $200 million.

Prosecutors also alleged that Ulbricht facilitated six hitmen, including one against a former Silk Road employee, although there was no evidence that any murders were actually carried out. The site was named after the historic trade route that spanned Europe, Asia, and parts of Africa.

Silk Road gained notoriety through media reports and online discussions, but users could only access the site via Tor, a system that allows people to browse the web anonymously. FBI documents indicated that the site had around one million registered users. Ulbricht was arrested in a San Francisco public library in 2013 during an undercover operation, where he was chatting online with someone he believed to be a colleague, but who was actually a federal agent in disguise.

Despite hopes that Ulbricht's harsh sentence would deter similar marketplaces, larger platforms emerged after Silk Road's closure. Trump had hinted at easing Ulbricht's sentence during a speech at last year's Libertarian National Convention. The Libertarian Party has advocated for Ulbricht's release, arguing that his case exemplifies government overreach.

Republican Congressman Thomas Massie, a Trump ally, praised the decision, saying, "Thank you for keeping your promise to me and others who have advocated for Ross's freedom." ⬤

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … October 28

1466 – Erasmus was a Dutch humanist and theologian, who merits serious consideration by queer people of faith. Born Gerrit Gerritszoon, he became far better known as Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam: Erasmus was his saint's name, after St. Erasmus of Formiae; Rotterdam, for the place of his birth (although he never lived there after the first few years of early childhood; and "Desiderius" a name he gave himself - "the one who is desired".

He left a legacy as a scholar and church reformer. His career spanned the years leading up to, and after, Martin Luther's break with the Catholic Church that became the Protestant Reformation. Prior to the split, Erasmus had himself been fiercely critical of the Church, arguing forcefully for reform of the many and manifold abuses. He had close relationships with Luther and many other leading members of the Reformation movement, which his ideas strongly influenced. However, when the break came, he chose to remain formally inside the church structures, and not outside of it.

Some LGBT activists have hailed Erasmus as a gay icon from history. Circa Club for instance has no doubt, using that precise term and including Erasmus in it's collection of historical gay icons. The primary basis of the claim is a series of passionate love letters he wrote to a young monk Servatius Rogerus. While at the Augustinian monastery at Stein near Gouda around 1487, Erasmus wrote passionate letters of friendship to the fellow monk, whom he called "half my soul", writing, "I have wooed you both unhappily and relentlessly"; this correspondence contrasts sharply with the generally detached and much more restrained attitude he showed in his later life.There were also allegations of improper advances made to the young Thomas Grey, later Marquis of Dorset, while employed as his tutor.

Erasmus's best-known work was The Praise of Folly, a satirical attack on the traditions of the Catholic Church and popular superstitions, written in 1509, published in 1511 and dedicated to his friend, Sir Thomas More.

1754 – John Laurens (d.1782) was an American soldier and statesman from South Carolina during the Revolutionary War. He gained approval by the Continental Congress in 1779 to recruit a regiment of 3000 slaves by promising them freedom in return for fighting. He died in 1782, but his father manumitted their slaves as he had intended.

Laurens was born in Charleston, South Carolina. After tutoring at home and the death of his mother, John and his two younger brothers were taken by their father to England. John completed his education in Europe, first in London, then in Geneva. As a youth, he yielded to his father's wish that he study law in London. In late 1776, John was obliged, "out of pity," to marry Martha Manning, the daughter of one of his father's London agents, and in December he sailed for Charleston. He left his wife behind, pregnant with a daughter who he would never see.

In the summer of 1777, he accompanied his father, Henry Laurens, on the trip to Philadelphia where Henry was to serve in the Continental Congress and where in spite of his father's strong objections, John continued on to Washington's camp as a volunteer.

Laurens joined the main army of the Continental Army and within a month, following the Battle of Brandywine, was made officially an aide-de-camp to General Washington with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. He became very good friends with his fellow aides, Alexander Hamilton, and with the Marquis de Lafayette. He also gave the first demonstrations of his tendency to reckless courage at the Battles of Brandywine, Germantown in which he was wounded, and Monmouth where his horse was shot out from under him.

As the British stepped up operations in the South, Laurens, who had long argued that "We Americans at least in the Southern Colonies, cannot contend with a good Grace, for Liberty, until we shall have enfranchised our Slaves," promoted the idea of arming slaves and granting them freedom in return for their service, and in early 1778 requested, as a start, 40 slaves from his father, which Henry, now President of the Continental Congress, granted but with such serious reservations about the practicality that John temporarily relinquished the project. In March 1779 Congress approved this idea, commissioned him Lieutenant Colonel, and sent him south to implement a regiment of 3000. He won election to the South Carolina House of Representatives, and introduced his black regiment plan in 1779 and 1780 (and again in 1782) only to meet overwhelming rejection each time. His belief that blacks shared a similar nature with whites and could aspire to freedom in a republican society set Laurens apart from other leaders in revolutionary South Carolina.

There is evidence of Laurens enjoying a sexual and loving relationship with Alexander Hamilton. These reports are based upon letters Hamilton wrote Laurens during a period in which Laurens was absent from the camp. In preparing a biography, Hamilton's family actually crossed out parts of letters they each sent one another. Suspiciously enough many of Laurens letters to Hamilton are missing. But the language in Hamilton's letters reveal a profound love for Laurens. Indeed Hamilton was never as emotionally open with any other man in his lifetime, and the depths of sentiment are equaled only in letters he wrote to his wife Eliza. Hamilton wrote:

"Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you."

In September 1779, gently chiding Laurens for not corresponding as often as he would have liked, Hamilton wrote, "like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued."

Looking beyond the successful conclusion of the war, Hamilton suggested that both of them should be members of the congress of the new country. "We have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy," he wrote in a letter ending, "Yours forever."

Laurens probably never read this letter as he was killed in a skirmish a few days after it was written.

1824 - French historian Astolphe de Custine is beaten by soldiers he solicited. He reluctantly files charges against them.

1903 – British poet and novelist Evelyn Waugh was born on this date (d.1996). The English writer is best known for such satirical and darkly humorous novels as Decline and Fall, Vile Bodies, Scoop, A Handful of Dust and The Loved One, as well as for broader and more personal works, such as Brideshead Revisited and the Sword of Honor trilogy, that are influenced by his own experiences and his conservative and Catholic viewpoints. Many of Waugh's novels depict British aristocracy and high society, which he satirizes but to which, paradoxically, he was also strongly attracted. In addition, he wrote short stories, three biographies, and the first volume of an unfinished autobiography. His travel writings and his extensive diaries and correspondence have also been published.

The overt homosexuality of his brother Alec Waugh may have caused Evelyn to hide his own tendencies behind two marriages and seven children. Alec Waugh, like their father, publisher Arthur Waugh, had gone to school at Sherborne, and it was assumed that Evelyn would follow. However, in 1915 Alec was asked to leave, after a homosexual relationship came to light. He departed for military training, and while waiting for his commission to be confirmed wrote a novel of school life, The Loom of Youth, which was published by Chapman and Hall. The novel, which alluded to homosexual friendships in what was recognisably Sherborne, caused a public sensation and offended the school sufficiently to make it impossible for Evelyn to go there. Much to his annoyance he was sent in May 1917 to Lancing, in his view a decidedly inferior establishment. He later went to Oxford.

He arrived in Oxford in January 1922; in October 1922 the arrival of the sophisticated Etonians Harold Acton and Brian Howard changed Waugh's Oxford life. Acton and Howard rapidly became the centre of an avant-garde circle known as the Hypocrites, whose artistic, social and homosexual values Waugh adopted enthusiastically; he later wrote: "It was the stamping ground of half my Oxford life". He began drinking heavily, and embarked on the first of several homosexual relationships, the most lasting of which were with Richard Pares and Alastair Graham.

After gallantly protecting T. S. Eliot from "the specious assumption that he was homosexual," T.S. Matthews in Great Tom, suddenly became viciously ungallant: "It is peppery, glaring little men like Evelyn Waugh who are sexually suspect - as his diaries bear witness."

Indeed, his diaries do clearly reveal him as a Gay man. But then so do his novels, particularly Brideshead Revisited, in which the friendship of Charles and Sebastian, despite the limitations of what he was allowed to write in the early 1940s, is magnificently drawn.

Francis Bacon  Self-portrait 1972

1909 – The Anglo-Irish born painter Francis Bacon (d.1992) was a descendant of the Elizabethan philosopher Francis Bacon. His artwork is well known for its bold, austere, and often grotesque or nightmarish imagery. Bacon's painterly but abstract figures typically appear isolated in glass or steel geometrical cages set against flat, nondescript backgrounds. He began painting during his early 20s and worked only sporadically until his mid 30s. Before this time he drifted, earning his living as an interior decorator and designer of furniture and rugs

Bacon early discovered that he attracted a certain type of rich man, an attraction he was quick to take advantage of, having developed a taste for good food and wine. One of the men was an ex-army friend of his father, another breeder of race-horses, named Harcourt-Smith. Bacon later claimed that his father had asked this friend to take him 'in-hand' and 'make a man of him'. Francis had a difficult relationship with his father, once admitting to being sexually attracted to him. Doubtless, Eddy Bacon was aware of his friend's reputation for virility, but not of his penchant for young men. In the early Spring of 1927 Bacon was taken by Harcourt-Smith to the opulent, decadent, "wide open" Berlin of the Weimar Republic, staying together at the Hotel Adlon.

His visit to a 1927 exhibition of 106 drawings by Picasso at the Galerie Paul Rosenberg, Paris, aroused his artistic interest, and he often took the train to Paris five or more times a week to see shows and art exhibitions.

In 1929 he met Eric Hall at the Bath Club, Dover Street, London, where Bacon was working at the telephone exchange. Hall (who was general manager of Peter Jones) was to be both patron and lover to Bacon, in an often torturous relationship.

In 1964, Bacon began a relationship with 39-year-old Eastender George Dyer, whom he met, he claimed, while the latter was burgling his apartment. A petty criminal with a history of juvenile detention and prison, Dyer was a somewhat tortured individual, insecure, alcoholic, appearance obsessed and never really fitting in within the bohemian set surrounding Francis. The relationship was stormy and in 1971, on the eve of Bacon's major retrospective at the Paris Grand Palais, Dyer committed suicide in the hotel room they were sharing, overdosing on barbiturates. The event was recorded in Bacon's 1973 masterpiece Triptych, May-June 1973.

In 1974, Bacon met John Edwards, a young, illiterate, handsome Eastender with whom he formed one of his most enduring friendships, eventually bequeathing his £11m fortune to Edwards after his death.

Bacon died of a sudden heart attack on April 28, 1992, in Madrid, Spain. Bacon bequeathed his entire estate (then valued at eleven million pounds) to John Edwards after his death. Edwards, in turn, donated the contents of Francis Bacon's chaotic studio in South Kensington, to the Hugh Lane gallery in Dublin. Bacon's studio contents were moved and the studio carefully reconstructed in the gallery. Additionally draft materials, perhaps intended for destruction, were according to Canadian Barry Joule bequeathed to Joule who later forwarded most of the materials to create the Barry Joule Archive in Dublin with other parts of the collection given later to the Tate museum.

Bacon's Soho life was portrayed by John Maybury, with Derek Jacobi as Bacon and Daniel Craig as George Dyer (with some lovely frontal nudity on Craig's part) and with Tilda Swinton as Muriel Belcher, in the film Love is the Devil (1998), based on Daniel Farson's 1993 biography The Gilded Gutter Life of Francis Bacon.

1949 – Caitlyn Jenner (born William Bruce Jenner), known as Bruce Jenner until 2015, is an American television personality and former track and field athlete.

A former college football player, Jenner came to international attention as a decathlete, winning the gold medal in the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal, and setting a world record not beaten until 1980. With the unofficial title of "world's greatest athlete" for the Olympic decathlon win, he was also an American cult hero winning an event dominated by Soviet Union athletes during the Cold War. He leveraged his celebrity status to endorse products and subsequently starred in numerous movies and television specials including several made-for-TV movies, and was briefly Erik Estrada's replacement on the TV series CHiPs.

Jenner was married for 23 years to Kris Jenner (née Houghton; formerly Kardashian); the couple and their children appeared beginning in 2007 on the television reality series Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Following their divorce in 2015, Jenner came out in a television interview as a trans woman, initially preferring masculine pronouns until his transition was more complete. In June 2015, Jenner revealed her new name, Caitlyn, and a preference for being referred to using feminine pronouns. Many news sources have described her as the most famous openly transgender person in the world.

Bruce Jenner that was.

Jenner is a professed Christian, leans politically conservative, and is a Republican. Prior to her public gender transition, she had been married three times. Her first marriage was to Chrystie Scott (née Crownover) from 1972 to 1981. They have two children, son Burton and daughter Cassandra, known as Burt and Casey. Jenner and Scott's divorce was finalized the first week of January 1981. The same week, on January 5, 1981, Jenner married actress Linda Thompson, in Hawaii. By February 1986, Jenner and Thompson had separated, and they subsequently divorced. They have two sons together, Brandon and Sam Brody, known as Brody. The two sons starred on the reality show The Princes of Malibu and Brody Jenner was also on the reality show The Hills.

Jenner's third marriage, to Kris Kardashian (née Houghton), occurred on April 21, 1991, after five months of dating. They have two daughters, Kendall and Kylie. While married, Jenner was also the step-parent to Kris's four children from her previous marriage to the late lawyer Robert Kardashian: Kourtney, Kim, Khloé and Rob. The couple announced their separation in October 2013, though they had actually separated a year earlier. Kris filed for divorce in September 2014, citing irreconcilable differences. Their divorce terms were finalized in December 2014 and went into effect on March 23, 2015, because of a six-month state legal requirement.

In an April 2015, 20/20 interview with Diane Sawyer, Jenner came out as a trans woman saying she had dealt with gender dysphoria since her youth, and that, for all intents and purposes, "I’m a woman." Jenner cross dressed for many years and did hormone replacement therapy but stopped after the romance with Kris Kardashian in the early 1990s became more serious. Caitlyn recounts having permission to explore her gender identity on her own travels but not when they were coupled, and that not knowing the best way to talk about the many issues contributed to the deterioration of the 22-year-long marriage which formally ended in 2013.

1987 – Frank Ocean (born Christopher Breaux) is an American singer-songwriter and rapper. Ocean started his career as a ghostwriter for artists such as Brandy, Justin Bieber, and John Legend. In 2010, he became a member of alternative hip hop collective OFWGKTA also known as Odd Future, and his debut mixtape, Nostalgia, Ultra, was released to critical acclaim in 2011. The singles "Novacane" and "Swim Good" both achieved chart success.

His debut studio album, Channel Orange, was released in July 2012, promoted with three charting singles: "Thinkin Bout You", "Pyramids", and "Sweet Life".

In 2005, Hurricane Katrina hit Ocean's hometown of New Orleans and his recording facility was destroyed by floodwater and looting. To continue recording music, he moved to Los Angeles and intended to stay for just six weeks but decided to stay longer and develop his music career after establishing contact with people in the music industry. He recorded some demos at a friend's studio and shopped them around Los Angeles.

After getting a songwriting deal, he started working with other record producers and wrote songs for artists such as Justin Bieber, John Legend, Brandy, and Beyoncé. Ocean later said of his work at the time, "There was a point where I was composing for other people, and it might have been comfy to continue to do that and enjoy that income stream and the anonymity. But that's not why I moved away from school and away from family."

Ocean became one of the first major African-American music artists to announce that he had once fallen in love with someone of the same sex, notable because that music scene is known for homophobia.Ocean wrote an open letter, initially intended for the liner notes on Channel Orange, that would preemptively address speculation about his same-sex attraction. Instead, on July 4, 2012, he published an open letter on his Tumblr blog recounting unrequited feelings he had for another young man when he was 19 years old, citing it as his first true love. He used the blog to thank the man for his influence, and also thanked his mother and other friends, saying "I don't know what happens now, and that's alrite. I don't have any secrets I need kept anymore … I feel like a free man."

Members of the hip hop industry generally responded positively to the announcement. Russell Simmons, a business magnate in the hip hop industry, wrote a congratulatory article in Global Grind saying "Your decision to go public about your sexual orientation gives hope and light to so many young people still living in fear." Other artists who expressed their support included Beyoncé and Jay-Z.

1990 – Placido Domingo and Andre Watts raised $1.5 million at a fundraiser for the Gay Men's Health Crisis.

1998 – On this date Welsh secretary Ron Davies resigned from Tony Blair's Labour Party government after British tabloids reported he was robbed at knife-point in a London park while looking for a male sexual companion. Although he subsequently came out as Bisexual, Davies referred to the incident as his "moment of madness."

In 1999 Davies was successfully elected on 6 May 1999 as Member of the Welsh Assembly in the Caerphilly Constituency, and chaired the Economic Development Committee after Alun Michael refused to appoint him to his Cabinet. Shortly before the 2003 assembly elections, "The Sun" revealed that Davies had been visiting a well-known cruising spot near a motorway lay-by (rest stop). When challenged as to what he had been doing there, Davies initially denied being there, then told reporters that he had been going for a short walk, adding: "I have actually been there when I have been watching badgers." Davies was forced to stand down as Labour candidate in the election.

2009 – President Barack Obama signed the The Matthew Shepard Act (officially the "Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act") into law. The Act expanded the 1969 United States federal hate-crime law to include crimes motivated by a victim's actual or perceived gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It was finally passed after almost two decades of attempts to pass it through Congress and over stiff opposition by members of the Republican party. During debate in the House of Representatives, Republican Representative Virginia Foxx of North Carolina called the "hate crime" labeling of Shepard's murder a "hoax."