#and also let alone Hungarian

[szollibisz]

The campers we share the site with are playing a minion song on loudspeakers?????

[mooncakebun]

Some Hualian art I'm working on these days (not sure I'll ever finish any of them but let's see, almost 2 years hiatus is no joke T^T)

Just recently I had the chance to buy the official Hungarian release of the books, and that alone reignited my love for the novel.

Not so coincidentally, I found plenty of unfinished scraps of fan art on my computer and realized I missed TGCF quite a lot, also missed making fan art... so not all of these are brand new haha... drawing style also changed so much even tho I haven't drawn a single line since ~2022.

(+ I don't use twitter anymore (though IG freaks me out with the interface and small picture format, I recovered my acc so I’m using it again), but I found the password for Tumblr saved on my laptop :D hahaha...)

[mountsgirl]

Captain-Dominik Szoboszlai

Pairings: Dominik Szoboszlai x fem!reader

Warnings: +18 content(smut), explicit language

Summary: Attending the game in which your boyfriend captains his national team takes an interesting turn

Note: I just couldn’t get this idea of him out of my head🫣

Even if this was just a friendly game against Türkiye, Dominik still wanted his girlfriend to attend. He wanted to make her proud. They have been dating for a couple of months, the relationship still fresh, but the chemistry was something none of them had ever experienced. That’s how Y/n found herself at Puskás Arena on a Friday night with Dominik’s jersey on.

It was moments before the Hungarian players needed to be on the pitch to warm up for the game, as you were seated with the other wives and girlfriends attending the game. They were discussing about clothes, jewellery and how excited they were for the game to start before you receive a text from your boyfriend.

Dominik: come in the locker room, I need you!

You wonder if everything is okay with him as you excused yourself from the group and went on to look around the stadium for Dominik. Reaching the locker room, you push the big doors, surprised to find him all alone. His kit was on, together with the captain’s armband, which made him even hotter.

“Shouldn’t you be warming up?”you approach him, settling yourself between his legs while his arms embrace your hips.

“I should” he smirks, checking you out. The skirt you’re wearing come right before your knees and the black leather boots embracing your legs, made you look like a goddess. Looking up to see his jersey hugging your body so perfectly, his smile widened even more “but I had to see you before”.

“You’re so handsome” you mutter, while arranging a string of hair which fell on his forehead.

“My captain” those words awake something in him and he hooks his big hands around your thighs drawing you closer to him, until you’re sitting onto his lap. His and your lips are now mere inches apart, Dominik finally closing that distance, with a passionate kiss, moaning softly. Both of you get even more excited, one kiss turning into a heated make out session. Dominik’s hands traveled all over your silky smooth skin, from your waist, down to your thighs caressing it gently but firmly.

“Strip” he tells you without any hesitation. All flustered and turned on by his actions you look deeply at him with doe eyes “What?”.

“You heard me, strip!”

“Dominik, the game is about to start and someone could come…” he interrupts you with a sloppy kiss, gently pulling on your lower lip to which you can only let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is not like that stopped you before”

“But” you try to argue with his but also very tempting idea but he doesn’t buy any of it.

“Be a good girl and listen to your captain, otherwise I’ll have to bend you over that table and make sure you behave baby” his words hit you like a bus. Dominik seems very calm about the whole situation meanwhile you’re barely holding on.

The shirt and skirt you’re wearing are long forgotten on the floor, while Dominik tries to unclasp the bright red, lacy bra “You’re going to kill me with his baba” he starts planting kisses on your neck, going lower and lower, to the valley of your breasts, not forgetting to nibble and mark every inch of skin on your chest. “Dominik, Domi please” you whimpers in his ear, getting even louder than before.

“What do you want?” He asks straight away, his lips barely leaving your body.

“I want you baby, please”

“And where do you want me?” He asks with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I want you inside me”

Hearing your words, Dominik lifts you up just like a feather and places you on the table in the centre of the locker room.

“All you had to do was ask szívem(my heart)”

Dominik rips up the lacy red panties you had on which were matching the bra.

“Dominik, I liked those!”

“Don’t worry baby I’m going to buy you more” he says thrusting into you.

“Domi!”you leave out a sigh of pleasure which sounded more like a scream, as your walls were drawing him in more and more, squeezing his already hard cock.

“Arch your back for me pretty girl” you do as you’re asked, feeling him go deeper and rougher.

“Can you feel me here baby?” Dominik asks, tracing your lower stomach, feeling the tip of his cock pushing harder into you. You were getting lost in the pleasure that your beloved boyfriend was giving to you while he was just as fascinated by your body and the sounds youmade as you were by him.

“Yes baby, yes!” You let out broken sobs as Dominik was brushing wet kisses over your body. He grabs your chin and he smashes his lips with yours whilst thrusting roughly into your aching core. Dominik was nibbling on your skin while your walls were clenching around him drawing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Dominik I’m close baby please”

“I know baby, I got you, I’m close too”

With every move inside you, he was bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm untill you both reach your high, your uneven breaths echoing trough the empty room.

“Fuck that was good” you smile, kissing him.

“Never disobey your captain’s order” he smirks, kissing you again. Dominik helps you get off the table and as you both get dressed you pick what’s left of your underwear off the ground

“How am I supposed to go without these now?”

“Just as you came here, plus it’s easy access for my reward after I score tonight” he winks and you roll over your eyes.

He laughs as he takes the pair of tore up panties from your hands and puts it in his locker.

Hope you enjoyed it!🫶🏻

[findingnemosworld]

𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬.

(𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡����𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐮𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐩 …

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝟐: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐳, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.

This was it, the biggest moment she had ever experienced, her graduation ceremony.

Physiotherapy has been her greatest passions ever since she was a child, she had graduated school from her home country, opting to pursue a masters degree in Oxford University - and along the way she'd started working as an intern in one of the biggest football clubs known, Liverpool Football Club ... during the internship, not only was she able to implement her thesis topic, but also find love with a lovable Hungarian player.

Like her, Dominik was new to the club which was a common point that led to the pair growing closer during her time working there - eventually, a relationship was born, one that tested time as both were quite occupied with their passions yet despite that, were able to find time for one another.

Dominik was everything she could ever hope for in a man, charming, attentive, funny and ridiculously handsome.

The past ten months were a pure blessing, despite his busy schedule. Dominik would constantly call in to check on her as well as ask about her studies, he'd often sit with her whenever he wasn't busy with training and help her study, even going as far as to ask her about what her thesis topic, further assuring her just how attentive he was to her passion, the same way she did with her constantly being present during every match he played as well as helping him rehabilitate during his injury.

Each and every moment they spent together had led to this very moment now, today was a special day, it was the day she was set to recieve her degree.

The excitement had led to her waking up at around six in the morning despite the ceremony not starting for another three hours, she turns to her right to find a sleeping Dominik, his lips slightly parted, hair disheveled due to tossing and turning, the tattoos quite promiment and peeking from the bed sheets as his chest rose and fell evenly.

She didn't have the heart to wake him, therefore she gently removed the bedsheets from her body and tiptoed to the kitchen to make her-self some tea, she pours water into the kettle and turns on the stove to let it boil, she then proceeds to grab the mug that read, Future Doctor - the mug was a gift that Dominik had gotten her for her twenty first birthday which was quite adorable given that in his words, he knew that fancy gifts weren't exactly what she wanted.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed her boyfriend of nearly eleven months stride up to her from behind, he wraps his arms around her waist and lazily nuzzled his face in the curvature of her neck, "I told you I don't like to wake up alone." he whispers.

A soft smile appears across her lips, "I'm sorry baby, I am too nervous about today, I don't want to look like an idiot."

He grunts something incoherent before he said, "Baba, you won't look like an idiot! If anything, you're the opposite of an idiot."

"I almost spilt my coffee on your chest the first time we met," she reminds him with an amused expression across her face.

He chuckles, "God I wished you did, would have been an excuse to be closer to you back then."

She giggles at his remark, "I'm excited, I'm scared and nervous Domi, I mean I worked so hard for this, I don't want anything to go wrong."

Dominik reaches over to turn off the stove then swiftly turns her to face him, he cradles her face in his hands then proceeds to lean in and peck her lips before muttering, "You are going to look absolutely gorgeous taking that degree, and then I can brag about how I'm dating the most intelligent girl in the world."

His words soften her almost instantly and she proceeds to hug him, "I love you."

He grins then presses a kiss on the top of her head, "I love you too baby."

There was no denying that she had his whole heart, from the very moment he saw her in the training center until this very moment - he was and still hopelessly devoted her, yet the insecurities in the back of his could not help but rear their ugly head, she was so accomplished, so intelligent, well spoken and put together ... what was he? just a guy that became well known for pushing a ball in between his feet because his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps, sure he loved the game, granted the circumstances weren't healthy but in contrast her, he felt like ... nothing.

And boy did he loathe that emotion, it was akin to jealousy, something he had never felt in ages, not since he was a child having to see other children enjoying a normal life all the while his days consisted of training.

"Domi," she murmurs, breaking his train of thought.

"Hm?" he replied, rubbing her back.

"I gotta make my tea." she said.

"Make me one too then, please." he murmurs.

"Ok," she said then kissed his cheek.

He watched her with pure admiration as she quickly whipped up two mugs of chamomile tea, adding a hint of cardamom to help both of them relax for the big day, and as they make their way back to their bed, Dominik couldn't help but wonder if she would be better off with someone else, a doctor perhaps, or a lawyer, or someone with a normal occupation that doesn't force them to be away half the time.

He wanted to ask her, desperately wondering why she would rather stay with him than seek another man, yet he remained shut, especially when she curled up next to him after drinking her tea and quickly drifted off to sleep leaving him with only the ugly insecure thoughts swimming inside of his mind.

__

Dominik was seated with her parents who had traveled to attend the ceremony, dressed in a three piece black suit which he believed was suitable for the ceremony - he noted just how proud both of her parents were which in turn made him happy as the pair had worked so hard to provide her with this opportunity, "She was quite nervous." he remarked.

Her father chuckles, "she's always nervous,"

"Our angel is a pessimist at heart despite recieving the highest degrees, succeeding both in her studies and her extra curricular activites," her mother chimes in. "Hell, she was even nervous before she introducued us to you, she thought we wouldn't approve of you,"

Dominik smiles, recalling just how nervous she was at the propsect of him meeting her parents yet things turned out quite well, her father treated him as though he was his own and her mother doted on him, insisting that he visited whenever he could, "She definitely is ... but look at her,"

They watch in awe as her name was called out, and she gracefully walks up dressed in a beautiful dress topped off by the graduation cape and hat, she accepts her degree, flashing a smile towards her parents and Dominik, then making her way to the empty chair to sit whilst the others recieve their degrees.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve her," he murmurs, mostly to himself.

Her mother leans in and whispers, "You two are soulamtes."

Dominik turns to her then says, "Huh?"

"You think you two just met by chance, not at all," her mother smiles softly then adds, "God has put you in her path and her in yours, you two are more alike than you think."

He grows silent, contemplating if she was right yet the small voice in his head says otherwise causing him to momentarily grow frustrated at how insecure he was. "I love her," he said.

"She loves you too," her mother assures him just before saying, "Oh look, she's set to make a speech."

Dominik shifts his focus towards her as she takes the podium, with a clearly nervous look on her face, their eyes lock for a moment and he sends her an assuring smile, which seemingly worked on calming her nerves.

"Good afternoon," she begins with a soft smile, "I'm not good at speeches but I shall try to make this as short and brief as I can, I'd like to first congratulate my colleagues who worked as hard as myself to achieve their dream and make their mark as future Physiotherapists, it wasn't easy but we made it," she pauses, "I'd like to thank my professors, the department and everyone who pushed us to work hard, and be confident in our abilites, I'd also like to thank God as well as my parents who risked just about everything to give me this opportunity, and lastly, I'd like to thank my boyfriend ..."

Dominik's eyes softened as he sent her a sweet smile, tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes.

"He doesn't know that much about the inner depths of Physiotherapy and god knows I bored him night and day but he stuck with me, supporting me day and night until I got this far, so thank you." she smiled at him. "And lastly, I'd like to say, let's face life with the bravest face we got because it's not easy but it's worth it, thank you."

A thunderous roaring applause rippled through the auditorium as she made her way back to her chair, the photographer snapped a couple of photographs before the graduates were able to unite with their family and loved ones, she rushed to her parents, embracing the two of them as they congratulated her, she then turned to Dominik and said with an obvious squeal, "I made it."

"I knew you'd do it baby." Dominik embraced her before adding, "Now come on, dinner is on me."

"Nonesense, dinner is on us." her father interjects.

"No no, you two are here for two days, dinner is on me." Dominik smiles.

They dine in a beautiful Italian restaurant with a comfortable atmosphere, her parents spent the entire time conversing about the prospects she'd have now that she graduated and while he wanted nothing more than to pitch in, he found himself feeling less like her boyfriend and more like an idiot who did not understand a single thing they said.

She deserves better than you, the small voice reminds him. She's intelligent, beautiful and young, she deserves someone that can understand her, not a dumb fool like you.

Suddenly, Dominik stood up, excusing himself to head to the restroom unaware that she was rather confused by his demeanor as she had noted just how distant and lost in thought he was - she opted to wait until they were home to try and speak to him, meanwhile he was in the restroom, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror.

What am I? just a clueless idiot who runs after a ball, he lets out a soft sigh, and she's just, ... perfect.

He hated this, this nagging sensation of jealousy coursing through his veins at this moment. Maybe I am holding her back, ... I should just let her go, she would find someone better, someone that can understand her and doesn't feel like an insecure child.

He splashes cold water on his face, then dries it off with a paper towel before stepping out and returning to their table, he sits down next to her and she leans in to whisper. "You ok love?"

"Yeah," he assures her with a smile.

She nods, albeit not convinced as she could tell just how distraught he was.

__

The pair drive back to their shared flat, and the moment they step inside - she stops him halfway before he enters the kitchen - he turns to face her, yet avoids looking her in the eye, "What is it?" he asks despite knowing that she is on to him, and had read through his façade.

"Domi, what's wrong?" she pulls him in, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Nothing," he grumbles, instinctively wrapping his arms around her lower back. "Just my stupid brain making assumptions."

She frowns in confusion, "Assumptions about what?"

"Us." he blurts out then blushes, "I just ..."

This was difficult, far too difficult than he could imagine yet as he looked into her eyes, noting just how concerned she was for him - he realized that there was no way he could hide his emotions any longer. "I'm jealous, but I'm also insecure."

The phrasing served to both concern and confuse her as she replied with a gentle tone, "What do you mean?"

"You're a graduate with a masters degree, you completed your studies, you had a perfect life ... perfect grades, extra curricular activites and a social life, ..." he sighs then adds on, "All I had was the football pitch and my father asserting that this was the best for me, it's not that I hate football but the circumstances were toxic at best."

Her eyes soften as she reaches to run her fingers through his hair, "I had no idea."

"I didn't want to concern you, it's all stupid ideas. I just, I can't help it ..." he pouts then murmurs, "You deserve better than me."

Her eyes widen at the last phrase, "Absolutely not, if I had the chance to turn back time, I will meet you again, fall in love with you again and picture the most beautiful life with you."

He looks at her then says, "But why? I'm just an idiot who runs after a ball."

"Not to me you're not." she says then leans in to peck his lips. "You're my Domi, the one who makes me laugh with the stupidest jokes known to men, the one who listens to me ramble about the most trivial subjects and my studies, and on top of that he doesn't get bored, you're the one who goes above and beyond during date nights even though he doesn't have to, and you're the one who stole my heart the second I met him, I don't want anyone else to have my heart and I sure as hell don't want any woman to steal you, so what if you're a football player, you're still an amazing man, my man."

Her words were both soft and assertive, serving to lead him to lean in and capture her lips in the most romantic and passionate kiss he could muster, driven by his pure love and affection for her, "I love you baby."

"I love you too" she smiles.

[lacontroller1991]

Next Door Neighbor (Edward Teller x F!Reader)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Requested by @mariedork : I don't know if you're still writing for the fandom/taking requests, but I'd love to request something about Teller and fem. reader. maybe something like reader is helping Teller with research at Los Alamos (I know the real teller was married but oh well) you're both into each other but trying to be professional, maybe use the prompt "we're in public you know"

Summary: You and Teller often butt heads until one night the tensions tip over and feelings are revealed.

Author's Note: This is clearly based on Benny Safdie as Edward Teller from the movie. If you do not like, do not read. Also sorry if I butched the Hungarian. I do not speak it and I tried my best with the translator.

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v, penile penetration, enemies to lovers, language, orgasm, female anatomy, male anatomy, slight misogynistic tone

Word Count: 4.2k

----------

The car ride is long and boring. Even the cheerful music from the radio couldn’t lift your spirits, not when you are being more or less shipped away to Los Alamos from your home in Berkeley. You suppose you should be grateful for the opportunity to work in close proximity to some of the greatest scientific minds of your time, but you would prefer it if you could stay in Berkeley and work under your doctoral advisor. 

Seeming to sense your remaining frustration, Ernest Lawrence looks over to you, closing the folder in his hands and setting it in his lap. “You know, the more you frown, the more you’re going to get wrinkles,” he chuckles, poking your cheek causing you to frown even more.

“I still don’t know why you picked me over Lomanitz. Wouldn’t he be better at this?”

“Nah, I trust you more. Besides, you have better political ties than he does. You won’t be an issue.” He turns back to his dossier as you huff, looking out the window and watching as the brown landscape passes by.

After hours of driving, the car slowly comes to a stop, jostling you awake. Lawrence is the first to get out, moving towards his friend. Picking up your stuff, you manage to stumble out of the car, your legs miserably sore from the constant sitting. 

“Physics side New Mexico, huh? My God, what a trek.” Lawrence smiles as he shakes Oppenheimer’s hand.

“That’s why you need a liaison,” Oppenheimer replies while Ernest tilts his head toward you.

“I’m appointing (Y/L/N).” Oppenheimer looks at you and smiles softly before gesturing to the driver to get your bags. 

“You’re going to be okay.” You nod your head as Oppenheimer tilts his head. “Come now, we have much to discuss.” You and Lawrence follow Oppenheimer inside the building and you can’t deny how impressed you are at all of the different things going on inside. You watch in silence as Lawrence greets General Groves while Oppenheimer throws a couple of marbles into a glass bowl, causing the crowd to clap. Looking around the room, you note some familiar faces. Richard Feynman, who you’ve run into a couple of times. Of course Robert Serber, whom you’ve worked with and surprisingly Edward Teller, though you doubt he notices you. You remember bumping into him on a day that he was visiting Berkeley and then him immediately (and assumingly) exclaiming curse words in Hungarian before noticing you and shutting up. Gulping, you set down your jacket on a chair and hang in the back, out of site and out of mind.

“Well, here’s where you’ll be staying. I know it’s not much, but it does the job. Don’t mind your neighbor. We’ve gotten several complaints about him playing the piano late at night, so if it does disrupt your sleep, just let us know, we’ll figure something out,” the usher comments as you look around the bland room turning back to look at Lawrence in annoyance and even the ever so optimistic Lawrence looks like he shares some of your pity. The usher quickly leaves you and Lawrence alone.

“You owe me Ernest.”

“I promise. But you’re going to be fine. You have Oppie. He’ll help you!” Lawrence pats you on the back with a smile before looking around the barren room. “I think you can definitely spruce it up.” His comment isn’t appreciated and he can tell. Frowning, he slowly backs out of the room. “Well, do good. Don’t mess up and don’t make me look bad. Good luck.” He darts out of the room before you have the chance to say anything else. Dropping your bags, you let out a huff of annoyment. 

“Just be thankful. Just be thankful.”

—-------

The days go by faster than you initially thought. Work is hard, sure, but working with several of the smartest minds helps the work go by quickly. The nights, on the other hand, are a completely different story. Since the night you got there, you’ve been tossing and turning in your bed, slowly drifting to sleep only to be woken by the slamming of a piano. Each night this happens, and each night you only get a few hours of sleep. 

The piano slams again, causing you to let out a loud sigh of discontent. Throwing back your blanket, you swing your legs out of the bed and put on your robe, intending to give your neighbor a piece of your mind.

Walking out into the cold desert night, you stomp over to the house and knock sharply against the door, hearing the piano stop and chair scraping against wood, you tap your foot against the patio and wait for your neighbor to answer the door. What you don’t expect, however, is to see Edward Teller on the other side; and based on his reaction, he wasn’t expecting to see you too.

“What do you want?”

“I want to sleep, but your piano playing is preventing me from getting any,” you comment, your arms wrapped around your body as he raises an eyebrow in amusement. 

“And that’s bothering you? Tünj el!” You can tell that he is annoyed by your comment, but you frankly don’t care.

“No. It’s the slamming the keyboard that is annoying me. It’s not hard playing Bartók.” You can see his eyes widen at the mention of the composer, almost as if asking ‘you actually know him?’. “And for the record. I do know him.” Teller stiffens, looking more intimidating by the second.

“Alright, if you know so much about Bartók, why don’t you play.” His Hungarian accent is thicker than it was a few seconds ago. Not being one to back down from a challenge, you brush past him into his house and sit down at the piano, aware of the holes that Teller was drilling into your head. Reading the sheet music, you let out a little scoff as you turn back to him.

“What about this is confusing you?” Silence. “Well?”

“Just play.” Shrugging your shoulders, you turn back to the piano and place your hands on the keys. As if it was instinctual, your fingers dance across the ivory keys, playing note for note Allegro Barbaro while Teller watches on in amazement, though he will never admit that. Finishing the piece, you sit at the piano for a few seconds before turning around to face the physicist. 

“Satisfied?”

“Are you like this with your studies?”

“Naturally.”

“No wonder why they call you Lawrence’s protégé.” The comment causes you to blush. Of course you and Lawrence work closely together, and you guess you could say you’re one of his best students, but that doesn’t mean you’re a protégé. Nodding your head, you quickly stand up and fix your robe.

“Right. Well. Now that you know how to play it, please don’t slam the keyboard. It wears the piano down.” Teller furrows his brows and tilts his head, taking a step closer to you. Maybe it’s lack of sleep, or maybe it’s loneliness, but you feel a pull towards him and you don’t know what to make of it. He takes another step closer until you can feel his breath on your face and it causes your heart to race. “Well, I- I should probably get going,” you stutter out, dipping away from his body and rushing out the door, unaware of the way his eyes follow.

—-------

After finally being able to get some sleep, you wake up in the morning refreshed. By the time you get to your lab it is already bustling with personnel. If you thought that the Rad Lab in Berkeley was always busy, it really doesn’t compare to this.

“Ah, there you are,” you jump in surprise and turn around to Oppenheimer, hands clasped behind his back. “Lawrence called last night and asked me to pass along these measurements,” he hands you a piece of paper with writing on it. Clutching it in your hands, you nod in thanks, turning to leave but his hand reaches for your wrist. “Wait.” 

“Yes Dr. Oppenheimer?” He lets go of your wrist and leans back on his heels, rocking back and forth.

“How are you finding it here? I haven’t seen much of you around and Lawrence asked me to keep an eye out for you.” Smiling softly, you turn your body towards the physicist. 

“It’s alright. Nothing like Berkeley. I have finally been able to get some sleep.”

Nodding his head in response, he lights a cigarette and huffs it a couple of times before offering it to you, which you decline. “Good, well, keep up the good work.” He doesn’t say much else before skirting away. Shrugging your shoulders, you look down at the piece of paper, trying to make out what Oppie wrote before getting to work.

—-------

The sun has well past set in the sky by the time you gather your things. You suppose one of the good things about working here is that you can make your own hours versus the 22 hour days Lawrence would occasionally have you pulling. Shutting off the lights, you walk down the hall, noting that most of the staff has left by now, except for a room emitting a soft glow. 

Peering your head into the room, you see Teller standing at a board, chalk scribbles scattered across and his suspenders down with his shirt untucked. Assuming the lack of assembly in his dress, he’s probably not having much luck with his work. Setting your coat and bag on a chair, you walk over to him and the board, getting a much better view of the problem. 

Hearing your footsteps, Teller quickly turns around and lets out a stream of curse words at your presence. “Nice to see you too,” you quickly fire back, stopping at his side and crossing your arms, eyes gazing on the board.

“Now what do you want?” You can tell that he is annoyed, but you frankly don’t care. 

“I was planning on going home but I saw the light in here was on so I was wondering who is doing what. So, what are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to find another component to make this more powerful than Oppenheimer’s bomb,” you don’t know if it’s frustration or tiredness, but his accent seems to get heavier the more you hear him talk.

“What have you got so far?” He looks over at you and scoffs, turning back to the board.

“A student like you wouldn’t know.”

“Try me.” 

“Deuterium needs to react with something else to ignite the fusion process, but I can’t seem to think of one that would work.” He runs a hand through his hair and you can’t help but to notice how handsome the Hungarian actually is and it has your heart racing.

“What about deuterium AND tritium?” His head slowly turns to you as if saying ‘are you serious?’ “What? Try it.” He scoffs but still inputs tritium into the equation and after a few minutes, he leans back, his face red. “Well?”

“Don’t play smug,” he quickly grabs his stuff and pushes past you, rushing out of the door, leaving you to stare at the board.

“I didn’t actually expect that to work,” you laugh to yourself before grabbing your stuff and heading in for the night.  

—-------

The cyclotron hums softly in the background and if it wasn’t for people bustling around you, you’re sure you would’ve fallen asleep. Leaning back in your chair, you stretch your body with a yawn, cracking your neck from the stiffness. Scooting your chair back, you fix your outfit before heading out and walking down the hall where you know the coffee will be, but your name being said stops you in your tracks. Following the sound of the voice, you creep towards an open room, staying out of the doorframe and straining your ear.

“I can’t have her here. She is compromising my work!” Ok, so it’s Teller, but who is he talking to?

“It seems she’s helping you more than she’s compromising. Lawrence wouldn’t have sent her here if he didn’t have faith in her, and I trust Lawrence,” Oppenheimer comments as you creep closer. It’s pretty obvious that they’re talking about you, but why?

“A girl shouldn’t be working here, it’s too dangerous.” You jolt your head back in confusion. Sure, you knew that Teller probably hates your guts, but you didn’t think he would hate you this bad. 

“Edward, she is just as good, if not better, than half of the scientists here. I am not going to get rid of her just because she ‘insulted’ your work.” You can distinctly hear Teller cursing before he’s walking out the door and right into you. His hard features soften upon seeing your eyes, slightly glossy, but it’s clear that you’re hurt by his words. Instead of speaking to you, he just dips his head and moves around you, rushing away leaving you standing there with an empty coffee mug. “I wouldn’t take it to heart, he doesn’t think that 90% of the staff should be here,” Oppenheimer comments from behind, causing you to jump in shock. 

“It’s stupid, we’re all here for the same thing. We’re all here because we’re good enough AND smart enough to work on this project, no matter our gender.” Robert nods his head in agreement, inhaling smoke from his pipe. 

“Just ignore him. Works for everyone else here.” He pats you on the back before moving to leave 

“Hey, Robert?” He turns around to face you. “Thank you.” Robert nods his head before walking away.

----------

The clock reads 11:04 by the time you wrap up your work for the day. You knew that the days were going to be long before you came here, but you didn’t expect them to be this long. “God I’m so hungry.”

“It’s a good thing I brought some food.” His voice carries through the room, causing you to whip your head through the door only to spot the Hungarian physicist standing in the doorway, a paper bag in his hand.

“What are you doing here? I thought that you don’t want me here, let alone bring me food.” You can see his cheeks blush crimson ever so slightly as he makes his way over to you, sitting in the chair opposite of the control panel but still in your sight. 

“I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have said those things.” His apology has your eyebrows raising in shock.

“Edward Teller? Apologizing? What world am I living in?” 

“Don’t make me take it back,” he warns before scooting his chair next to yours, opening the bag and pulling out the contents. “I made some pörkölt. As an apology.” He pushes the tumbler towards you with a spoon and you’re not really sure how to react. After a moment, you take the spoon and bring a mouthful of the stew to your mouth. You don’t know what you were expecting it to taste like, but you definitely weren’t expecting it to be good. 

“This is actually prett-” you can’t finish your sentence before you feel a pair of lips against yours, causing your eyes to go wide. After the shock factor dissolves, you quickly push him away, confusion written all over your face. “What the hell?”

He pulls back in confusion as well, his bushy eyebrows furrowing over his blue eyes. “Have I been reading you wrong? Are you not into me?” You have to resist the urge to slap him. Instead, you rapidly stand up, pointing a finger at him.

“Do you seriously have the audacity to ask me that? You keep me up at night with your piano playing, and then get mad when I try to help you. Then you get mad when I help you with your project. Then you insult me, talking about me behind my back, and you think that I like you? Why on earth would I be into you?” He knows you’re lying. He can tell by the way your chest raises up and down and pupils dilate. Chuckling, he stands up from his chair and steps in front of you with slight hesitation. 

Grabbing a hold of your biceps, his blue eyes peer into yours. “I know you’re lying.” He doesn’t say another thing before he’s dipping his head down and pressing his lips against yours. You try to fight back, but deep down inside you can’t deny how right it feels. Giving in, your arms come up and wrap around his shoulders, anchoring him to you as you walk back until you’re pressed against a wall. It’s a minute before you break away, both of you gasping for air, his body heat radiating to you and it makes you nervous. 

“We shouldn’t, we’re in public you know.” He scoffs and looks around the room, especially the dark windows and dark hallway.

“No one is here,” he replies as his hands drop to your hips, his thumbs brushing your skin underneath your shirt. “If it’s that much of a problem, we can go back to my place.” His offer has you pausing for a minute, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t mind getting down and dirty in the lab. Shrugging your shoulders, your hands push off his jacket as he lets it fall to the floor, his head slotted between your head and shoulder. 

“I think I’m good here,” you can feel the smirk of his lips against your neck as his teeth drag across your skin, causing your eyes to flutter shut. Pulling you into him, you’re completely enveloped by his warmth as his hands creep lower, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other on your ass, fingers flexing as if he wants to do more but there’s still some hesitation. “Teller…”

“Edward, please.”

“Edward, you know you can touch me,” the confirmation is all he needs before he’s hoisting you into the air and carrying you over to a desk, placing you down and slotting himself between your legs. You watch as he breaks away from you, shoving down his suspenders and loosening his tie. Reaching between your bodies, you pop the buttons of your shirt off and chuck it to the floor, exposing your breasts which catch his attention. Wasting no time, his hands find themselves on your breasts, squeezing firmly, causing arousal to pool in between your legs. It’s been a while since you’ve been with a man. Working in the Rad Lab under Lawrence doesn’t really give you much of a life, let alone a love life, so just having another man touch you is really enough to send you spiraling. “Edward, I can’t wait,” you whine, your hands finding his belt as he lets out a huff of amusement. 

“That impatient, hmm?” You nod your head in response, hopping down from the table to remove your skirt and underwear as he works on his slacks, pulling out his member with ease. Shoving his hand out of the way you take hold of his growing arousal and flick your wrist up and down in languid motions, causing him to let out a low moan. Despite the fact that your hand is jerking him off, it is odd to you to see the impersonal Edward Teller so vulnerable.

Deciding that enough was enough, Teller gently removes your hand and picks you up with ease, placing you down on the desk as he slots himself between your legs. “You ready?” Nodding your head, your heart races with anticipation. You can hear soft Hungarian coming from his lips as he guides the head of his shaft between your folds before slowly pushing in, him grunting softly and you squeezing your eyes shut, trying to relax your body as much as possible. “Are you okay?” His blue eyes peer down to yours as his thumbs softly run across your hips.

Swallowing down any pain, you nod your head, wiggling your hips as you stretch around him. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He hesitated but nodded his head, a strand of his dark hair falling on his forehead as he slowly moves in and out of you, his brows furrowed in concentration. After a minute of him holding himself back, pleasure starts replacing the pain and it has your toes curling. He feels.. just right, you think to yourself as your eyes find him as lust taking over. “You can go faster.” It’s all the instruction he needs before his pace picks up and it causes you to snort. Who would have thought that Teller can actually take direction?

“What’s so funny?” His voice stirs you back to the reality of him above you, hands digging into your hips and you don’t doubt that it will leave a bruise or two. Reaching up, you thread your hands through his soft hair and pull his face down to yours, your lips meeting halfway with his as the desk creaks underneath you. The already stiff room slowly starts to swelter as sweat begins to glisten both of your bodies. Breaking away from the kiss, Teller places his head between your shoulder and neck, biting down on your exposed flesh as he thrusts into you rapidly. Your legs wrap around his hips, bringing him in impossibly closer and it causes you to let out a loud moan and you can feel his lips twitch upward against your neck.

“That’s right, keep making sounds for me édesem.” You’re not really sure what he’s saying,  but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on, and he notices. Straightening his posture, he looks down at you with a smirk as his hips rock against yours. “Does me speaking Hungarian turn you on édesem?” You clench around him, accidentally proving your point and you cringe before he leans back over you, his member hitting a deeper angle that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. “Micsoda mocskos lány.” He whispers against your ear, one hand reaching down between your bodies and finding your clit causing you to whine. “Alig várom, hogy elélvezz nekem.”

“Edward.” Your moan echoes in his ear as his fingers deftly rub your clit. 

“Fogadok, hogy tetszik. Ugye, mocskos kislányom?” You hate to admit it, and you’ll probably deny it, but hearing him speak in his mother tongue has your orgasm nearing. 

“Please,” you beg, your nails scratching against his back. “I need to cum.” Nodding his head, his hips shallowly grind against your, his dick dragging against your velvety walls as his fingers continue to rub your bundle of nerves. 

“Cum nekem, Szerelmem. Cum for me,” the switch back to English sends you toppling over the edge and you clench around his member, your orgasm crashing through your body as he continues to thrust in and out of you despite his hips beginning to falter. “Bassza meg, olyan gyönyörű vagy.” He grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Where?”

“On me.” Nodding his head, he quickly pulls out with a moan and shoots his spend all over your stomach, his chest heaving up and down as his eyes flutter shut in relief for a second. After he comes down from his high he looks down at you with a smile. 

“Olyan gyönyörű vagy alattam.” He grabs a couple of napkins from the bag and wipes your stomach as you prop yourself up on your arms, body glistening with sweat.

“What were you saying?” He smiles before helping you down from the table as the two of you start redressing. 

“Nothing important, édesem. We should probably clean up,” he gestures to the floor around you littered with papers. When did they get knocked off?

“Huh, I don’t remember them falling off,” you comment, kneeling on the ground with shaky legs and picking up the papers, Teller helping you before a throat clears in the hallway, causing the both of you to look up.

“If you guys are going to fuck, please keep it out of the lab,” Oppenheimer comments, puffing his pipe before walking away causing you to tilt your head in shame and Teller to quickly stand up, his face beet red.

“You do this too! Seggfej!” The room falls quiet as tension grows between you and Teller stand awkwardly across from each other. 

“So.” 

“So.”

“What did this mean?” You ask as you turn away, placing the papers back on the desk and fixing them, trying to avoid his gaze in case he rejects you.

Teller takes a step towards you as his hand cups your face and turns it to him. “It means that I like you. I know it doesn’t seem like that, but I do. You challenge me in a way that not alot of other people can do and I want that in my life. I want you in my life. If you want to be?” A smile graces your face as you nod your head.

“Yeah, I think I’ll like that.” Teller smiles in response, dropping his hand from your face and gathering his things.

“Good, would you like for me to accompany you home?” 

“We’re heading the same way, so sure,” offering him a smile, you flip off the lights to the lab and take his hand in yours, “next time though, let’s do it somewhere else.”

[sgiandubh]

Life beyond OL - Xmas movies and a short Bucharest tour

About three weeks ago, What Else Anon prompted me to tell her what else I was reading, watching or interested in lately (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/734634576675274752/so-about-tcnd-no-im-kidding-dont-throw-me). That gave me an idea for a poll:

Should I turn this ask into a Life Beyond OL weekly, preferably on Tuesdays?

97,1% of the 35 brave people to answer said yes, so here we are.

Reading won't do it this hectic week: since Friday is my last day on the job before the holidays, I'm literally in a wrap-up frenzy, both at home and at the office. Let's say I am not exactly the type who buys her presents in July, which pretty much explains the circus.

As for watching, well: nope, I will not watch A Princess for Christmas if you'd pay me. It's both beyond and beneath my dignity, I am afraid and bless The Boy, but that is not enough for an incentive. By the same token, I shall not willingly acknowledge in public (at the blessed age of 45) that I know all the damn lines of Home Alone 1 by heart. With age, my absolute go-to Xmas movie has to be Love Actually. If only for this perfect opening scene with 0 cheesiness in it - you watch it and you are immediately hooked:

Interested in: going home for Christmas, what else? And before local exasperation hits hard (roughly two days after arrival, to be honest), I am still procrastinating on YouTube and watching those foot-in-mouth travel vlogs ('John and Jane Doe do ...'). In a sea of meh, you might find something interesting enough: I have no idea who Sammy & Tommy are, but they are smart people and they surely know a thing or two about travel. Once in Bucharest, my hometown, they followed their instinct and engaged with the natives - always the best plan.

Let's say it was worth it and probably went above and beyond their expectations: we tend to be obnoxiously hospitable. And I found the bakery people flawlessly endearing. I can confidently say it was something absolutely spontaneous and something I would do myself anytime for a total stranger:

A bit of context: the Cișmigiu Gardens look way better than the last time I ventured in there. It is probably one of the most beloved parks of the city, a stone throw away from the Old Town, and also a wannabe copycat of Munich's Englischer Garten.

The featured bakery & cake shop are actually quite decent, serving traditional pastries from Transylvania (the West of the country) and some of the local dessert mishmash fare. Despite what the very nice bakery guy is telling Sammy and Tommy, neither savarina, nor amandina are 'traditional ' Romanian cakes. Savarina is simply the Polish/French rum baba, Stohrer invented for Stanisław I Leszczyński, the exiled Polish king who was also Louis XV's father in law. As for the other one, let's say it could be the love child of a Sachertorte and a Rigó Jancsi cake - totally Austro-Hungarian (Wikipedia babbles: it has nothing to do with French cuisine!)! Both sickeningly sweet and both personal favorites, amen. The first one they tried, cozonac, is a babka spinoff: something I hate with a passion, but also something that is going to be literally every(fucking)where this Christmas ('oh, you don't like my cozonac?! huh, nonono, I do, it's so fabulous I am taking my time!').

Honestly? This is a place that suffered a lot, especially during the Eighties, when Ceaușescu thought it would be a great idea to bulldoze about 60% of the old neighborhoods, after the horrific 1977 earthquake (perfect pretext). Words could never decently describe the shock, the drama and the abuse: people throwing themselves under the first passing car as their beloved houses were torn down, people displaced in the middle of nowhere, a human chain of people holding hands in a failed attempt to stop the demolition of a beloved church. All that quiet, endearing charm suddenly replaced by a Pyongyang transplant smack in the middle of town. This explaining perhaps why Bucharest is not the best/most touted tourist destination in my country. Tourists usually choose Transylvania (absolutely deserved) or, if they really want to be adventurous, Bucovina (or Țara de Sus, literally: The Highlands, hehe) - an off the beaten track gem and a very special place to me (half of my family hails from there). Impressed to see these guys hit Timișoara - one of the most beautiful, interesting and definitely underrated cities, right next to the border with both Hungary and Serbia.

Nice guys or not, I would never take you to that bakery, though. Nah: I'd take you round the corner, at the Athénée Palace's English Bar - the red arrow marks my very own spot since, heh, forever? And we'd have the Amalfi Old Fashioned cocktails: they are mandatory, here.

PS: the Romanian guy kept his word and took them places the next day. I'd happily babble about this next week, though - from home. :)

[lewishamil10n]

Idk abt the rest but the reason im pissed off is the whole weekend. It’s the ‘they’re racing for nothing’ comment, it’s the destruction of herend porcelain trophy (albonstudies has amazing post abt it as a Hungarian) and then lando adding MORE disrespect, even if it was tiny. For some reason lewis adores lando and lando is like ‘nah thanks!’. This weekend was too much lando-wise.

If it was just the comment, I wouldn’t have been full blown lando hater rn. he’s a shithead what’s new etc but he just. This weekend was too much

no yeah i fully agree with this! the "racing for nothing" comment was shitty as hell considering that was him two races ago. i'm still not entirely convinced that mcl hasn't broken the cost cap lol but anyway. the trophy destruction wasn't deliberate but the fact that he didn't even acknowledge it let alone apologize for it is gross as fuck. i mean it's typical privileged white men not giving a fuck about other cultures, but it's still gross as fuck. and then on top of it all his constant use of the word "complain" about lewis, when i am damn sure someone as chronically online as him knows how people talk about lewis... i'm tired of his ass too.

i do think people shouldn't take his comments out of context just to hate on him but also let's be real there's plenty to criticize even without resorting to that. he's got a lot of growing up to do but he's also a whole ass adult and doesn't need rabid defending like this. hell maybe the criticism would do him some good, if it ever reached him. but nahhh let's all call him blorbo and act as if he's just some silly baby lol

[aurorafables]

From the Grey, Chapter 1.

Let's get is started. :) I'm very excited, and I hope you will like it bc I loved to write it.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic

Word Count: 4.2k

Cross-posted: AO3

Author's note: This was originally written in Hungarian, and I'm still looking for a proofreader, so please forgive me the mistakes, strange expressions. Hope it's still enjoyable. Let me know, what do you think. :) Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts :)

Summary: In Noah's life, his best friend was the light, the way out of the abuse he suffered at home. After a childhood full of trauma, in which he was stripped of his wings so many times, he moves in with Nick, whose goal is to let him fly. The band, Bad Omens, led by Noah, begins to soar, which brings at least as many problems as joy. As teenagers grow into men, Noah and Nick drift closer and closer to each other, and the boundaries of friendship and love completely merge.

Chapter 1.

It would be difficult to say exactly when it started. It was as if the dynamic between the two of us had completely changed without being noticed. I could compare it to when I'm doing a tattoo and I want to create a nice color gradient to make the design look as realistic as possible. The point is that you can't tell where one color ends and the other color begins. Even between us, the transition from wanting to hug him in a friendly way to kissing him passionately was imperceptible.

Maybe I woke up like that one day, but it's also possible that the desire had been brewing in me for weeks, months, years, I just blocked it deep down. And what if I felt that little spark the first time we met, but I was still almost a child and couldn't identify it? I have to start this story somewhere. And like most fairy tales, it didn't start well. The mood of the whole band was cast by melancholy over the loss of a friend. But like all dead artists, Keaton remained immortal. His voice will live forever on the records, despite the fact that he was not with us anymore. The music of Too Close To Touch mingled with the cohesive low murmur of the crowd outside in the club's concert hall, where Keaton's vocals echoed painfully through the walls. "Death is not a game with the ones I hold close She was mine, mine, you can't deny Three years is too quick to die"* All his anger, all his pain were in the song he wrote about his little sister, who died lying on a hospital bed. In the text, he blamed God for choosing little Eiley over him. The poor boy had no idea at the time that they were both chosen… Personally, I would have liked to break something if I remembered that he was gone now, and I could only reassure myself that maybe they were already up there together. If it even exists up there. Because what if up there is actually only two meters underground?

The song didn't come at the best moment, because we had to go on stage right after, and I might be able to hide my mood in front of the audience… I glanced at Noah and my heart sank when I saw him banging his head against the wall, clutching the microphone in his hand, next to the stage, which we will soon have to walk up to. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, which I completely forgot to do in parallel. I was so worried about him. I knew he'd hate himself for that if his voice cracked while singing the opening lines of The Death Of Peace Of Mind. His maximalism was what he could torture himself with the most. Also, he had to be up there alone at the beginning of the song, we didn't join until later. I walked to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder, but I still managed to scare him a little because he pulled away before he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he almost snuggled back into my hand. It reminded me of my very first cat, the little black ball of fur I found on the street when I was barely ten. I named him Dusk because of his color and when he came to us I did everything I could to fatten him up. We slept together in my bed at night, because his soft purr always lulled me to sleep quickly. It was amazing how much Dusk and Noah were alike. Even in the semi-darkness next to the stage, my best friend's dark brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, which he tried to quickly blink away. His shoulders slumped forward in the thin linen jacket, and I'd bet his fingers were white under the faux-leather glove he wore on his left hand, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He and Keaton were very close. In the last two years, they spent a lot of time together, especially during and after the Covid epidemic, when it was possible to travel. Even when they were far away, they kept in touch on a daily basis. Keaton was good with all of us, but he had a stronger bond with Noah. He wanted to remember him by playing their songs during the break after our opening band, but Eiley's song has never come at such a bad time.

“We can extend the time for five more minutes,” I told him, and meanwhile I looked back at Jolly, who was still fiddling with his headphones with the help of a sound technician, and Folio was deep in his own thoughts drumming on the wall, sometimes doing shoulder circles as a warm-up. "Everything's fine," Noah replied in a weak voice, to which I nodded hesitantly, lowered my hand, and took a step back. "I'm worthless to the world You're innocent and pure God, why didn't you choose me over her?”* They signaled to Noah, who gave a thumbs up as if everything was fine. Nonsense. I knew nothing was okay. Keaton's voice faded outside and soon the intro to our song began. I looked down at my guitar and after stretching my fingers I strummed a few chords just to pass the time. When Noah walked out and the crowd cheered, he wasn't as lost as he had been two minutes ago. He immediately filled the stage and sang like a fucking siren without faltering. I shook my head, feeling a little angry at myself for constantly underestimating him. It was about time to get used to that Noah wasn't ruined by all the crap that happened around him. On the contrary, it only strengthened him even more.

Two months later, I was sitting on the steps of the tour bus in Phoenix, beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other, when I heard Noah's footsteps behind me. After a concert he liked to clear his head, so I thought he was going for his usual walk and I thought that I could join. I stood up to let him go, and when he stepped next to me, I was hit by the smell of his perfume. He had just stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, so I began to suspect that he had other plans for that evening. “Karin is in the city,” he said to me, but he didn't look at me, just watched the night lights. The blue neon lights of the bar glistened on the brunette's hair, and the tattoos running down his arms coiled around his skin like snakes. I thought I still had time. I thought I could figure something out before they met again in Salt Lake City. I blew out the last of the smoke, extinguished the butt, then slipped out of my denim jacket and held it out to him. “We will leave in the morning, be here by then.” Noah hesitantly took my jacket and looked at me. “That's it?” he asked in disbelief. I don't know what he expected. Maybe to remind him again that woman is crazy like hell? "I'm tired," I confessed to him. ”I can't save you from someone whose arms you keep running into. But I can do something to save you from catching a cold,” I gestured towards the jacket. He still didn't move, even though the situation was becoming more and more pressing for me, and the spring night wasn't nearly warm enough to keep me from getting goosebumps. I wrapped my arms around myself and hobbled in place. I kicked small stones with my boots on the asphalt of the parking lot and waited. I didn't care if I froze there, I wouldn't leave Noah alone as long as he needed me. The boys' laughter could be heard from inside the bus, a car honked on the street not far from us. I raised my head and immediately met a pair of dark eyes. Stared. I don't know how long or why. I swear he didn't even blink. Then he reached out and touched my arm under the sleeve of my shirt. “You are cold.” I blinked a few times, then started to move. I took the jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “But you don't have to be cold,” I answered him with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be okay. I will be okay,” he said quietly and gloomily. I don't know which of us he wanted to convince with this, but it didn't work. The smile immediately melted off my face. “Noah…” It's been a long time since my voice sounded so desperate when I said his name. I think all my fear must have been on my face because Noah took a step back and shook his head. I was ready to try again to get him to stay. We could have done so many things. From walking to sitting down to play video games with the boys. Or we could have gone to a nightclub to drink and to flirt with girls. Whatever, just don't let that cunt touch him again… He brushed his hair back and shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have to go, Nick. We will talk in the morning.” And that was it. There was nothing I could do to keep him there.

I got home from the tattoo salon late that night and was so tired that all I could think about was my bed. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the strong smell of weed hit me. It went through the small apartment so intensely that I almost got sick of it. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag on the floor, and headed for the bedroom with the goal of scolding Noah. The door was not locked on the little hole we called the bedroom, which was completely filled with my bed and the mattress that Noah had been sleeping on for months. When I entered, he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin, and he was holding a weed cigarette between his long, thin fingers. As if he had completely forgotten about it, the ash fell onto my blanket and I was amazed that it hadn't caught fire yet. Noah didn't even notice I got home because he was listening to music on his earphones, and I was sure he was just physically in the room by the way he looked. I leaned towards him, took the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it in the ashtray. With that, I finally drew attention to myself, because after he looked up at me tensely, with red eyes. The Asian features of his face came to life, which normally I would have stared in fascination, but this was not a normal case. I forgot I wanted to yell at him for wasting the weed and almost setting our apartment on fire. Because by then we both owned that little flat. In the corner, next to my guitar, there was also his. Noah's things appeared in the bathroom, his shampoo, his toothbrush, he got half of my wardrobe and sometimes half of my bed… His clothes were just as messily scattered as mine, and he already had his favorite mug, from which he preferred to sip his coffee in the morning. I wanted to think that his eyes were red from smoking weed, but when he spoke, I had no doubt that he must have been crying for hours.

"I thought you'd come home earlier today," he said in a nasal tone after stopping the music and taking out his earphones. In the meantime, I opened the window without holding him responsible for why he did not do so. “I thought so too,” I answered him, then I fell down on the bed next to him. ”Another guest came at seven, and thought I would do miracles in two hours with an old, messed-up tattoo.” Noah nodded, then slowly stretched out his infinite legs. He was only sixteen then, but already a little taller than me. We sat speechless for a while and looked at each other. I was even more overcome by fatigue, and for a moment my eyes were probably closed too long while blinking, because I was jolted when Noah moved next to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out shakily. Our tattooed arms touched and I could feel the tremors running through his bones as he reached for his phone. Oh my god, he was so skinny. If I touched his arms, I was afraid I would crush him as if his limbs were made of thin glass fibers. “I got a message,” he whispered into the dimness, then put the phone on my thigh. I picked it up with a scared heart and started reading. I had a guess of what it might be, and honestly… I just didn't understand why it didn't come sooner. At first, Noah's mother tried to lure her son back to her side with sweet, but poisoned words, which in the end turned into mere threats. Every fucking word she wrote made me feel nauseous. “After half a year, she remembered that she had an underage son. Maybe she expects some kind of reward for it?” I asked, but mostly I meant it as a poetic question.

Noah tensed up next to me and started breathing faster. “I… I can't go back there. If… if you say I have to go back to her, I… rather… I…” "Hey Noah, I would never say that," I turned to him and tried to speak in the most soothing voice possible. But I was too late… By that time, tears were already falling, and he was clutching the crumpled bottom of his two-size-larger shirt. I was totally in shock because I had never seen anything like this before. What kind of friend is who doesn't recognize that the problem is so big? Noah was an old soul with a lot of shit and loss behind him, who blended in perfectly with the adults, so I tended to forget that he was still just a kid. But now there was a child next to me who was terrified. Whom fear brought out the worst. "I shouldn't be here," he said between sobs, to which I shook my head so fast that my hair hit my cheek. I knelt on the bed, turned to face him and tried to remove his fingers from his clothes. I just wanted to hold his hand… I just wanted him to know I was with him. “Noah…No! Don't tell me this!” I protested loudly, but he didn't listen to me. It's like he didn't even hear what I said. Instead, he drove himself deeper and deeper into madness. “I should have died a long time ago…years ago.” If he had only stabbed a dagger into my stomach with his words, this was the moment he twisted it. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. Noah snapped his head back hard and his skull hit the wall loudly. After that, I couldn't focus on my own panic anymore, without thinking I put my hand on his head to protect him from himself. I didn't care that I might not be able to tattoo. My fingers ached as they met the hard wall, but I didn't really notice the pain. All I cared about was Noah and how I could keep him safe. I've been trying to figure out how to fix this. His cries and animalistic whining still ring in my ears, mixed with the sound of my heart's frantic beating. I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close as he just cried and cried, his tears completely soaking my shirt. He was hugging my thighs as I knelt next to him, finally not wanting to hurt himself anymore.

That night, I only left his side when I brought him water from the kitchen. Then we both got into bed and Noah turned to face me, but half of his red face from crying was hidden in the pillow and the other half was covered by his hair. I quickly got rid of my tight jeans, threw them on the side of the bed and took his phone in my hand. He was watching what I was doing, but he didn't speak. First, without any guilt, I deleted his mother's message, then opened his music. It didn't surprise me that he was listening to Castle Of Glass by Linkin Park when I got home. I flipped through the playlist and started our favorite song As Cities Burn after giving him one of the earbuds. "Won't you come down, heaven. Won't you come down? Won't you cut through the clouds? Won't you come down?”** At the first chorus, he already closed his eyes, and only then did I allow myself to relax a little. I carefully reached towards him, smoothed the strands falling from his face behind his ears, and then I closed my eyes too. I begged myself to fall into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, when we woke up, Noah helped me untangle the earbuds’ cord from my hair. We parted laughing, shoving a piece of toast into our mouths. He went to a band rehearsal, and I went to a place that has become my second home, the tattoo salon. My fingers got away with it quite well, with a small bruise on one of the joints, which only started to hurt a little towards the end of the day. We didn't discuss anything else about that night. Maybe I regret it since then, but what can I say? I was just a scared kid too, too stupid to help his friend more. Noah's mother died less than two months later. I didn't feel for a minute that she was a loss to the world.

He has become a grown man since and he doesn't need me to protect him from the world. I watched motionless as he walked down the street to get into a taxi. His tall, thin figure disappeared around the corner and I could finally get my legs moving. I got on the bus, grabbed a new bottle of beer from the fridge and joined the others. Folio showed Matt some funny videos and Jolly typed a message on his phone. I sat next to him on the couch and started reading the news. "He won't be able to do this for long," said Jolly next to me in a strong Swedish accent. When it was late and he was tired, he didn't pay so much attention to speaking English with perfect pronunciation. But there's nothing wrong with that, we've been working together for so long, and we've been friends for so long that we understand each other with half a word. “What do you mean?” I turned to him. I slipped out of my boots, slid off the couch, and put my feet up on the small table. I rested my head on the backrest and wiped the steam from the side of the glass with my thumb. “For Noah's secret night meetings. Matt had told him before when saw that he wanted to go out on the town all by himself.” “It doesn't happen that often. And it's not a secret where he's going, he told me he was meeting Karin,” I took him to my defense immediately. “Anyway, why can't he go? The fans had left for an hour, no one was out there. And it's not that he hit the town on foot. He called a taxi.” “That girl is strange,” Jolly grimaced. You do not say.. “When she came to our place, Noah wasn't quite himself.” Recently, I felt guilty for not trying to stop him more firmly, but I reminded myself: Noah pointed out rather angrily during an argument about this that I can't protect him from everything. "If a little fuck puts him in a better mood, we're all fine with that," Folio interjected when Matt left us alone. Maybe I gave him a nasty look from behind my beer bottle, because he held his hands up defensively. I took another sip, then realized I didn't even want the beer. I put the bottle on the table, brushed my teeth in our small bathroom, and went to sleep. At least I wanted to sleep, but I must have been tossing and turning for another hour.

It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when something started to tingle my nose. I brushed it off at first, but then Noah's soft chuckle crept into my consciousness. I groaned then pulled the pillow over my head planning to go back to sleep. I kicked the blanket off because I was hot, and it turned out, it was a big mistake. Ice cold fingers touched my side, the muscles in my stomach jumped and I let out a muffled moan. “Fuck me!” I grumbled hoarsely as I caught Noah's hand, who was just putting the other one in front of my mouth. "Shh, the others are still sleeping," he whispered excitedly with sparkling eyes. “I want to sleep too,” I answered after pulling his hand away from my mouth. “Come on, Nick. I'm hungry. I want breakfast.” “Why can’t you eat?” “Missing your company.” I sighed. “Go to the kitchen. Give me five minutes and I'll be there.” "If I leave you here, you'll go back to sleep," he said accusingly, as if he had every right not to let me go back to sleep. “And I would go a little further for breakfast than the bus kitchen. But I promise, it's worth it. You will love the place.” Another sigh, but I sat up with half-closed eyes, then pulled on a pair of pants and a thick hoodie. My jacket was still on him and he didn't seem like he wanted to give it back.

After five minutes, Noah got off the bus energetically, and I, wrapped in my hoodie, got off the bus grumpily. It was just dawn, around half past six. Noah finally slowed his steps and stopped in front of me, facing me. My hair would have been a complete disaster, not to mention the pillow creases on my face, or my eyes, which I could barely keep open. "You're sweet when you are sleepy," he said finally. He looked at me with a smile, then pulled the hood over my head and did the same with his own. ”I don't want to be recognized.” “Come on! Who would be awake this early?” I asked sarcastically, yawning into my palm. We walked down the street and luckily he was right, we really didn't have to walk far before we got to the breakfast place. Too tired to read the sign, I just entered the small but friendly coffee shop and sighed as I was greeted by a pleasant warmth inside. I said hello to the gray lady behind the counter. When I saw the first cat, licking its paws on a chair, I turned to Noah questioningly, who just shrugged. "I thought you missed your little monsters," he said. A big smile spread across my face. A cat café. I was already less sleepy when I crouched next to the kitten and let him sniff my hand. Then I noticed even more hairballs and I didn't even know which one to go to. Meanwhile, Noah ordered us coffee and breakfast at the counter. I heard the old lady laughingly answer him when asked why they were open so early: “If the kittens wake up, why can't I open the cafe?”

I smiled as I scratched the head of a calico sitting next to the wall, and we blinked at each other for a long time. After ordering, Noah came over and sat next to me. "The chick likes you," he remarked when the kitten was placed on my lap. “What kind of chick? She is a lady here,” I caressed the hairy ears. Laughing softly, Noah leaned forward and, using the kitten etiquette he'd learned from me, introduced himself to our newest friend before petting her. Now that the hood was off his head, I noticed the bite marks on his neck. The dark red spot was located right on the border between his tattoo and his bare skin so that it was just noticeable. I swallowed, tore my gaze from his neck, and reassured myself that Noah didn't seem as lost now as he did after most of his meetings with Karin. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she finally realized what she had to lose? Noah's fingers accidentally touched mine in the kitten's soft fur, and we smiled at each other as the furball began to purr loudly. I haven't seen Noah this happy since before Keaton's death. Maybe Karin isn't so bad after all? We ate breakfast sitting on the floor with a cat each in our laps and had to run back to the bus before departure.

*Too Close To Touch - Eiley **As Cities Burn - Contact

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo, Episode 7

I have no doubt the diehards rioted over this episode, which turned out to be centered entirely on Kwan (and Soren), who the youtube comments inform me is terrible. Why, I’m not sure, but here we are.

We open with a flashback to the Madrigal resistance, and I was surprised how happy I was to see them all. We only got one scene with them in the pilot, but they pull off the loving community vibe so well that it’s easy to fall in love with them. It was nice to have them back, even as ghosts, and even with pre-heroic Kwan having a teenage moment with her dad. Back in the present, Kwan’s driving straight into a sandstorm, which is a TERRIBLE IDEA that in the real world would probably have killed her. The wind and sand can literally rip your skin off. Anyway, she gets kidnapped.

Soren’s miraculously back on Rubble—what is the FTL tech in this universe and how fast is it? I have questions. He’s throwing a party and we finally get to see him in his element, as pirate/ businessman/ rich popular dude. He’s loud and boisterous and clearly grating on his shady, uncool business partner, whose only redeeming virtue is speaking Hungarian. Squirrel challenges Soren on not getting Kwan Ha’s bounty, and ignoring his own shady heist plan, but backs down immediately when pushed. Soren is obviously disturbed, though I assume it’s more about breaking his word to John than not getting paid for Kwan. (He also had a lovely moment about his love for his wife and kid, and I’m still convinced they’re marked for death, which is a shame, because I love Laera.) Sometime I need to go back and rewatch this scene with the pause button, because there’s a load of costumes to look at here.

Back to Kwan and her kidnappers, who of course turn out to be the mystics. They have the classic “you’re not ready, I sense much anger in you” conversation, which honestly I could have done without, especially since my meta-brain knows the mystics will change their mind, and they immediately do. (As they must have planned to, since they kidnapped her, not the other way around.) (Very cool costume design, low-quality wigs.) There's a lot going on with the tropes behind this Magic Desert People thing that other people have no doubt covered better than I can, but it does leave a lot of questions. Where are they from? Why are they so detached from the other humans on Madrigal? Why do they know the things they do? What do they need the Ha family for, that they couldn't do themselves?

Vinsher, meanwhile, is being extremely Extra and Poetic, which is apparently normal enough that his driver gets in a well-chosen poetic reference of his own in response. They know about the mystics and can’t find them, but Vinsher is determined to at least find Kwan. Vinsher is an interesting choice, juxtaposed against the rest of the people in the show: a cartoonish villain who only wants power, in a universe where everyone else claims a "greater good" justification for what they do.

On Rubble, Soren gets his shady guy Squirrel alone on the tram. And instead of killing him (or getting jumped or triggering a gang war that gets his family killed, my other guesses), Soren butters the guy up a bit, in a very threatening way, and agrees to go with the score the guy had bitched about at the party. I Have Concerns. (The scene ended with a GREAT dissolve, as the tram disappeared into the dark, just a single light distantly visible, which faded into the scene on Madrigal. Just a great directing choice, very evocative.)

The mystics are giving Kwan her Lore Dump, complete with hallucinogenic drugs that take her into her subconscious to deal with her issues. In this case, flashing back to the beginning of her relationship with Master Chief, which turns into them fighting so she can let go of her rage, presumably. (We brought back Reth for this?) (STOP aiming for the best part of his armor! If you’re going to try to stab him, which I’m not even sure you want to do, aim for the weak parts!) It's a little odd given that she seemed to have worked through some of the stuff with John back when he saved her life. (Honestly, it just made me think they wanted Master Chief in the ep so they could remind everyone "it's the Halo show!")

Eventually she gets told her family’s purpose, according to a being from another time or existence (again, man, this series has everything and the kitchen sink), is to eventually help John with his purpose, which involves a portal that must be protected from oppressors. (Like the UNSC, hence the rebellion.) The reunion with her dad was moving, and he ends by affirming her ability to step up in her own way, and tells her to go back to where it all began: the outpost where they lived, and he died.

Soren and Squirrel’s heist goes swimmingly, but Soren uses it to drop a weight on Squirrel’s foot to teach him a lesson. He could still be setting up a gang war, in other words. Later, Laera calls him on the action’s necessity, and in the course of defending himself, Soren wanders off to talking about Kwan and how that situation is eating at him. Laera tells him that Kwan must be alive, since Vinsher just tripled the bounty on her, and it’s clear Soren’s headed back to Madrigal. Laera, I love you.

On Madrigal, we flash between Kwan back in the ruins of her home, and Agatha getting questioned by Vinsher. Turns out she’s not a traitor after all, and she stands up to him, despite knowing it’ll get her killed. It does. Agatha had told Kwan that Vinsher had allowed them to collect the dead for burial, and so as she explores she doesn’t see any human bodies, but I was quite surprised to see the Covenant dead left where they were. I realize the UNSC labs likely have samples of everything there, but no local scavengers (of the animal sort) have dealt with the bodies, and no local scavengers (of the human sort) have looted the gear? Weird. Kwan also manages to find papers of her father’s that reference the portal, and pockets them. She hears movement, but I’m pretty sure it’s…

…Soren! Called that. They bicker a bit, especially over her keeping his gun. I do like the way they play off each other. Vinsher shows up and Kwan explains her plan to blow the joint sky-high. (Vinsher, are you SMOKING A CIGAR AT A HYDROGEN DRILLING FACILITY?) Unfortunately, the place is not in great repair after the battle, and she needs to fix something before they can detonate it (and take cover). She and Vinsher speech-ify at each other. (The byplay between Vinsher and his smart guard was great. “I give you my solemn word.” Guard: shocked, dubious look. Vinsher: immediate “of course not” headshake. Big Humperdink and Rugen energy there.) Kwan also manages to pay Soren after all, so that’s nice. (Stick it in your pack and get on with it, Soren!)

Kwan brilliantly uses her insider knowledge of the base and its maintenance tunnels to get across the battlefield safely, while Soren wrecks absolute havoc as only a Spartan can. He’s incredibly impressive, and I can’t help but wonder if these people know they’re facing a (former) Spartan? (Two seconds later, it turns out they do, as Vinsher taunts him with it. Not sure that was smart, but ok.) (Again, is he the only one who’s ever gotten out?) They 100% get me to believe they’ve killed Soren off and might get Kwan too before Kwan manages to blow the place with one of the un-looted guns from the Covenant massacre, and she and Soren both make it into the vault, just in time. (Realism? I don't know her!)

The rain from the hydrogen drill as they emerge is a nice touch. We wrap up with the most perfect Kwan-and-Soren bickering possible. Kwan: “We’ll see each other again.” Soren: “God, I hope not.” HA.

[clamityganon]

let’s look at the name valentinez alkalinella xifax sicidabohertz gombigobilla blue stradivari talentrent pierre andri charton-haymoss ivanovici baldeus george doitzel kaiser III and its significance to vash’s character

valentinez -> valentine -> love and peace!!!

alkalinella -> alkaline -> relating to a common disposable battery made of zinc and manganese dioxide. hmm. a battery is used by humans for power….

xifax -> internet fax service -> old technology adapted for a new generation, continuing to be of use despite others like it not being made anymore

sicidabohertz -> sicida -> suicide. vash highly disapproves of suicide

sicidabohertz also -> hertz -> hertz is the unit of frequency equivalent to one event (or cycle) per second. time does not apply to vash

gombigobilla -> gomb -> Hungarian onomatopoeia, typically referring to a button. referring to vash’s arm gun

blue -> the color of his eyes, but it’s also the opposite to his iconic red coat. red is vash’s signature color. however, the opposite of red is blue, and the opposite of vash is knives... knives is a part of his brother forever.

stradivari -> antonio stradivari was an italian craftsman of string instruments such as violins, cellos, guitars, violas and harps. he was also a luthier (repairer of instruments). you would come to him for fixing your problem, which is a broken instrument. stradivari was also at first seen as someone with unconventional ideas for violins, but was applauded later on for his innovation. vash is always seen as someone who can be manipulated into solving others’ issues (like how you see at the starting of the 90s series with the sillier filler episodes, and knives trying to use him as a weapon to wipe out the world). 

talentrent -> talent -> duh, he’s talented with a gun

pierre -> a nod to how he spoke french once while crying for “maman”

andri -> is a girls' name is of greek origin meaning "manly” and “virile". vash was created as a protagonist who has appeal for both men and women, leaving him androgynous. 

charton -> chart -> vash is creating his own morals and ethical rules for humanity. he walks an unconventional path compared to all he’s come across, and he’s navigating the waters himself. he welcomes others, but he recognizes that most of it might be spent alone due to all differences.

haymoss -> both names of plants, which rem loved

ivanovici -> ivan the great -> ivan the great was characterized as a cruel tyrant, drunk, and a misogynist, which is contradictory from his character of being a ruler of “great fairness and equity” as written by previous writers. vash’s reputation as the humanoid typhoon blackens his true personality.

baldeus -> philippus baldaeus -> created the long-held belief that the origin of european civilization started in india with hindu and buddhist origins. he was the first who told the wider european audience about krishna and the epics of ramayana and mahabharata. vash is bringing a new ideology to the people, and tries to impact them with it (seen in all episodes where he begs others to not kill, because he doesn’t believe they should). but vash’s arguments don’t normally have an impact on the people around him unlike philippus baldaeus (until it’s too late…)

george -> the name derives from the greek words “earth/soil” and “work”. another nod to the plant appreciation vash had along with rem.

doitzel -> ditz -> a scatterbrained or eccentric person. vash puts on a ditzy persona while harboring a deep sadness.

kaiser -> kaiser is the german word for "emperor". In general, the title applies to rulers anywhere in the world above the rank of king. vash can be seen as a prophet-like figure. he can be considered above all humanity, being inhuman himself but also being one of the few people to cherish human life.

and as @roronoarica pointed out, in the notes “the III has also a meaning then! He is the third independent plant besides Tesla and Knives” that was a good one 😼

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

R.Pitt ::

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 21, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

DEC 22, 2023

The Washington Post editorial board today wrote that “the battle for democracy will be fought—and won” by “explaining to the world why freedom matters to everyone, every day.” So, on an evening when our power has finally been restored, but too late for me to do a deep dive on anything, let’s see what that might look like from today’s news: 

For years now, the U.S. right wing has admired Hungary’s prime minister Viktor Orbán, who has overturned his nation’s democracy. Orbán claims that democracy weakens a nation because it allows immigration—which he calls “a poison” to a nation and says “poses a public security and terror risk”—and requires equal rights for women and LGBTQ+ individuals. The U.S. right wing claims to admire Orbán for what they see as a defense of traditional society.

But the logical evolution of Orbán’s “illiberal” society became clear last week, when the Hungarian parliament approved a new law designed to punish Hungarians who oppose the government. A new “sovereignty protection office” will intimidate and punish those who do not share the views of the ruling party, claiming that they are working for western governments and entities. The U.S. ambassador in Budapest, David Pressman, explained: “This new state body has unfettered powers to interrogate Hungarians, demand their private documents, and utilize the services of Hungary’s intelligence apparatus—all without any judicial oversight or judicial recourse for its targets.”

The U.S. State Department said yesterday: “This new law is inconsistent with our shared values of democracy, individual liberty, and the rule of law.”

Also today, House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA), who has said that immigration is such a national crisis that House Republicans will not pass a bill providing supplemental funding for Ukraine to help it fight off Russia’s invasion without significant changes to the nation’s border policy, wrote a letter to President Joe Biden asking him to make those changes himself through executive action.

Biden has asked Congress for new legislation to address migration at the border since his first week in office, but Trump and his loyalists have demanded extreme measures that Democrats have, in the past, refused. With Republican refusal to fund Ukraine, Biden has said he is eager enough to get funding to Ukraine that he is willing to negotiate, but Johnson sent the House home until January 9 without a deal. 

Now it seems Republicans don’t want their own names on any such deal, likely recognizing that such an outcome would take away an issue they hope to exploit  in 2024. They want Biden’s name alone on any new policies or, failing that, to be able to blame him for not taking unilateral action.

White House press secretary Karine Jean-Pierre today reminded reporters that the White House has been negotiating with senators to come up with a bipartisan deal despite the absence of House members, and that Biden has been negotiating with the president of Mexico, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, to address the border situation. 

In the next few days, Secretary of State Antony Blinken, Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas, and White House Homeland Security Advisor Liz Sherwood-Randall will all travel to Mexico to meet with President López Obrador to discuss border challenges, all in the spirit of the 2022 Los Angeles Declaration for Migration and Protection, an agreement between 21 Caribbean and Latin American nations, including the United States, to strengthen international frameworks to make migration safe, orderly, and humane. 

Also today, Craig Mauger of The Detroit News reported that on November 17, 2020, on a phone call with Republican National Committee chair Ronna McDaniel, Trump personally pressured two Republican members of the Wayne County, Michigan, Board of Canvassers not to sign the papers certifying the 2020 presidential election in order to overturn the election’s lawful results.

Trump told Monica Palmer and William Hartmann that they would look “terrible” if they signed the documents. “We've got to fight for our country,” Trump said. “We can't let these people take our country away from us.” McDaniel, too, urged the pair not to sign and promised, “We will get you attorneys.” 

Palmer and Hartmann did not sign the papers, and the next day they tried to take back their votes in favor of certifying, filing legal affidavits saying “intense bullying and coercion” had led them to vote as they did. 

Lawyer Chris Thomas, Michigan’s elections director for more than 30 years, told Mauger it was unfortunate that Republican leaders offered to give the two legal protection for not doing their jobs. "Offering something of value to a public official to not perform a required duty may raise legal issues for a person doing so," Thomas noted. Legal analyst Joyce White Vance pointed out that “[o]ffering an official something of value (services of a lawyer) in exchange for withholding official action (certifying the Wayne County vote) sounds like a classic case of bribery under Michigan State law.”

Trump is currently facing four criminal counts for his attempt to overturn the lawful results of the 2020 presidential election. His attempts to stop Michigan from certifying Biden’s victory are part of those charges. 

After the story dropped, Jocelyn Benson, Michigan’s secretary of state, wrote that for her, “the absolute lowest moment in the post election battle we endured to protect Michigan’s accurate and legitimate election results in 2020 was not when armed protestors stormed my home. It was the night of the Wayne County Board of Canvassers meeting.” 

Benson said the board knew about the pressure not to certify and were prepared to fight in the courts, but also knew that such a delay would “create enough doubt and uncertainty to enable the Trump campaign to push Pennsylvania, which was certifying the next week, to delay as well. And we knew other dominos would fall after that. How could we overcome the pressure of the then–President of the United States on local and state officials? Were the facts and law not enough?”

“Well,” she wrote, “then something I’ll never forget happened.

“Hundreds—hundreds (!)—of citizens showed up to the meeting of the Wayne County Canvassing Board to remind them of their duty under the law to ensure their votes counted. Their voices mattered. Their votes mattered.

“In my view that turned the tide. Citizens and election officials in Wayne County and statewide didn’t flinch, stood firm, and demanded their votes be certified as required under the law.

“And in the end, the Wayne County Canvassing board fulfilled their legal duty, followed the law and certified the election.

“What started as the lowest moment of the post election melee became the most inspiring. 

“The voters won. Facts and the rule of law carried the day. 

“Democracy prevailed.” 

Finally, tonight, former Trump lawyer Rudy Giuliani has filed for bankruptcy less than a week after a jury awarded election workers Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss more than $145 million for defaming them by accusing them of election fraud as part of his attempt to overthrow the country’s democratic system.

The Washington Post’s editorial board wrote that “the world’s democracies should create a system to fight back that can speak plainly and consistently about the inherent advantages of democratic systems, while admitting the imperfections, and use creative ways to illuminate the flaws and depredations of authoritarian regimes.”

To be honest, it doesn’t seem that hard. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[tybaltsjuliet]

To be On Brand, Romeo et Juliette and West Side Story?

(an anon also asked me about west side story, so i will answer that there!)

so. the first thing that ever brought RETJ to my attention was a person on livejournal, whose icon was szabó p. szilvester’s tybalt. i was deep into my tybalt (leguizamo’s version) era, and thought to myself, “huh. hot. i will have to check that out.” then i just...never got around to it.

approximately a decade passed. i was spending christmas alone, and passing the time getting into my feelings with the 1968 and 1996 R&J movies, and getting into pretty goth tybalts with the 2013 movie. i don’t remember if this is what prompted me to remember pretty goth tybalt (musical version), but i *did* remember him, for some reason, and thought, what the hell. let’s try it and see if i can bring a new R&J into rotation.

NEEDLESS TO SAY. i fell and fell hard not only for SZPSZ’s tybalt but for the whole beautiful, crazy, pyrophiliac verona set before me. it had me ugly crying like i was a 12-year-old hearing the words “o, happy dagger!” for the first time. it had me adding hungarian to my duolingo courses. i spent the next few days watching every single of RETJ that i could find on youtube. i was a person possessed.

my favorite version of it is still unquestionably the hungarian, but i really adore the french, too, especially the 2010 revival. the score is gorgeous. the lyrics, across languages, are lovely (DNI ill-advised english production). i love how much it fleshes out the world of verona and the supporting cast, in a way that enriches the source material without trying to outdo it. the choices it makes for the characters...well. glances at my URL. let’s just say they COMPEL me. i simply cannot get enough of it.

[littlegoldfinchh]

SO this is going to be a long one, i don't want to annoy people with it so you can read more under the 👇🏻 thingie

So my grandma is obsessed with turkish dramas, (for not hungarians: they're those typical romantic tv shows that have 600 episodes and old ladies ADORE them here) and well she became obsessed with this specific actor.

She's also pretty active on facebook so she found a BUNCH of those fan pages right? And she also discovered a few people who impersonate said actor. Which would be. Okay i guess but she started texting SEVERAL of them (they all shared the same "name" obviously since they were all the "same guy")

And im talking about raunchy love letters. (God i accidentally.. okay no i did read it because i got a little curious once BUT she gave me her phone because she needed me to "fix" something idk sorry im nosy okay), again, this would have been fine i guess because she's an adult, she can flirt with whoever she wants, i don't care.

But she started doing it while my grandpa was dying of cancer which was a really shitty move after 50+ years of marriage (like imagine her giggling like a lovesick schoolgirl RIGHT next to the deathbed of my grandpa (he was also a shitty person tbh but that's a whole different story)

So yeha uh apparently she didn't suspect anything even though she was texting several copies of the same guy, she also didn't stop to think about how weird is that. This young TURKISH actor was texting her (a 70+ old woman) in hungarian.

But turns out she gave out her phone number, address, banking info and email address to these guys so my mom took the case to the police because she got concerned about my grandma's safety. And apparently we have to move her somewhere else for a few weeks because she even told them that she lives alone.

And before you start judging me for being insanely mean or feeling schadenfreude, let me just say that she is genuinely not a good person, she was a terrible mother to my mom, a terrible grandmother to me and she always hurt us whenever she had the chance. I am not happy about this situation but i genuinely feel like I'm sitting in a circus.

But yeah according to the police the region i live in has a mafia problem, they specifically attack old people who live alone so this was a big F from grandma

[streda]

"Count Dracula"

Haha, I'm sure everyone knows the cinema classic "Count Dracula". Starring Béla Lugosi playing the role of Dracula, Dwight frye playing the mad Renfield, David Mannewho played the role of Johnathan Harker , Edward Van Sloan the famous actor played the role of the learned doctor Abraham Van Helsing, Helen Chamdler played Mine Harker.

This is another classic based on Bram Stoker's book "Dracula" published in 1897. Interestingly, Stoker may have lived to see the film, however, he died in 1912, 10 years before the first film based on his book.

the film is not entirely based on the book, many things are changed, for example: in the film it is not Johnathan who goes to Dracula's castle, but Renfield,however, in the book Johnathan leaves to sell Dracula's estate and Renfild is still in a psychiatric facility under the constant care of doctors. Despite the changes in the film, it is really great with an equally great cast.

the film also has blunders that are not significant for the plot, but one intrigued me and made me laugh quite a bit. When Dwight Frye (the actor playing Renfield) falls down the stairs which are supposedly made of stone, you can hear that they are actually wooden. I find it funny that anyone paid so much attention to it.

Interestingly, Béla Lugosi did not speak much English, let alone an accent, when recording Dracula. Lugosi learned most of the texts by heart, which is quite a feat for a Hungarian. I dare say it's even better that his accent wasn't American or British, because Dracula was from Romania, which gave him the appearance of a foreigner. It is also surprising how much Béla wanted to play Dracula. Lugosi he only got $500 a day just to play the iconic vampire. This amount is worth nothing even for those times.

time for a summary.

Count Dracula, who lives in a dark, cobwebbed castle in Transylvania, is to be visited by Renfield with documents enabling the Count to rent Carfax Abbey. During the official's journey, terrifying events occur that cause Renfield to descend into madness. The count himself occupies a dark mansion, located near a psychiatric hospital. The vampire, looking for blood, goes hunting at night.

I encourage you to watch it, it's a truly great classic despite the poor reviews from critics.

[sarcasticdolphin]

Hii, i wanted to ask your opinion :)

in sisi (2021) s2 when marie saved baby rudolf from the abusive nannys and franz misunderstood her of trying to hurt the baby and threatened to severely punish her, he later understood the truth but if he didn't get to know the truth do you think franz would have carried on with the threat, what do you think he would have done, would he merely send her away from court or do something more severe?

A quick caveat before I start - I have good access to season 1 but very poor access to season two, so this will reflect that.

Also a note on Sisi(2021) as a show - it's more of a show that values storytelling over historical accuracy, and in particular I have some gripes with how it sanitizes the misogyny of that time period in particular. As it takes more of a storytelling route as opposed to a historical accuracy one, I'm going to go with that to a degree.

First, the factors that need to be considered:

FJ's prior actions and general characterization: We see FJ punish Grunne for stopping him from striking a soldier who had disrespected FJ by having him beaten. Of note, Grunne is both a Count and one of very few people that FJ might just about call his friend. On the counterpoint though, the context was military.

FJ in general shows several times (starting with the executions that open episode one) that he's certainly not what one would call a lenient emperor and likes to project an image of strength. The show seems to be going the route of portraying FJ as a bit of a tyrant and then having him become a better ruler and less tyrannical under the influence of his wife.

Marie's Status: Marie seems to be somewhat based on Countess Marie Larsich, but with a few differences. The series' Marie is younger than Marie Larsich was when she became one of Sisi's ladies, and she's the daughter of a dead prostitute who was an accessory to treason. Marie Larsich was also the illegitimate daughter of one of Sisi's brothers. The series' Marie is very much utterly alone in the world - Sisi is basically all has.

The Crime: The Austro-Hungarian had a couple different versions of treason, but critically here the one that involved the Emperor was very specifically limited to trying to kill the Emperor himself. It didn't even cover the Empress. So there is no way this gets called treason, even if FJ thinks Marie is trying to kill Rudolf.

And now, onto some questions:

Would FJ let Marie explain? I don't think so. We've seem him be very quick to punish people (Grunne), and doing something that would harm the fragile and young Crown Prince, the Emperor's only son, seems to be the type of thing that would get a pretty quick reaction from FJ as opposed to anything else.

What would happen to Marie then? Well on the bright side she can't be charged with treason and Rudolf is fine. I'm not going to do a deep dive into Austro-Hungarian law regarding the age of criminal responsibility etc, but she's young enough that I think execution is off the table. What I would expect to happen is something along the lines of her being sent to a nunnery or the like, with any attempted intercession by Elisabeth only being able to change which nunnery rather than the fact that Marie is going to a nunnery. It is essentially a sentence of life in prison. I do think there would also be punishment for the people who were supposed to be supervising Rudolf as well.

All that being said, if word of it got out then FJ might do something harsher - I don't know if it would be harsher on Marie herself (mostly on account of her age), but I do think it would be harsher on those that should have been supervising Rudolf.

[archduchessofnowhere]

With the few adaptations of Sissi and her marriage to Franz they always show a scene where he has to sign off death penalties and seems hesitant to do so. Is this something that is accurate? Or do they add it to make him seem more likeable?

Hello anon! This is an interesting question because I feel that this is something that's never really properly explored - not only in fiction, but also on non-fiction. Let’s start with how fiction handles this:

The latest two series about Empress Elisabeth both introduce the young emperor in a scene in which he orders the execution of rebels - although they handle it quite differently, almost oppossite. In Sisi (2021-), an annoyed Franz Josef smugly complains about how these rebels brought over themselves their deaths “only for a constitution”, and only seems troubled by it when a woman in the crowd curses him (can’t remember if this happens before or after he orders the men to be hanged). In Die Kaiserin (2022-), a very hesitant Franz Josef cannot even bring himself to order the execution and in the end is his mother who orders the rebel men to be hanged (a great example of this series’ writing superb subtlely *sarcasm*). Now these are clearly scenes which have the function of introducing the characters and setting their inner conflicts: Jannik Schümann’s FJ being an arrogant man who almost seems to enjoy his impunity, suddenly being faced with the real consequences of his actions, while Philip Froissant’s FJ is a weak-willed ruler controlled by his mother that most break free from her in order to follow his liberal ideas (yeah he’s Rudolf here). So which of these two portrayals is closer to reality?

Well, probably neither. Because first of all, Franz Josef was not present at the executions (or at least I’ve never came across with any account that places him there), so neither of these situations would have happened. And second, neither fully allign with what we know of him as a young emperor. For Franz Josef the executions and repression were a matter of putting his empire in order, he believed in the dynastic right of the Habsburgs and that it was his duty to rule over his subjects, that's it. Neither of his portrayals are accurate to him, because they're both emotional takes: in one he's a cruel man that must find mercy, in the other he's a merciful man but weak ruler that must find strenght (and in both cases, he must find this through loving his wife). In reality, he was a bureaucrat signing off orders that thought would bring back the power to the dynasty, that was always his only main goal. That's also why years later he was willing to compromise with the Hungarians. Emotions just never played a part in his policies, which is what the series miss in their respective characterizations.

Now on the historical accuracy:

The two people held to be the main responsible of convincing the emperor of following a policy of repression are his mother Archduchess Sophie and the Prime Minister of Austria Prince Felix Schwarzenberg. Sophie indeed thought that the revolution must be crushed, meanwhile Schwarzenberg allegedly said that “Mercy is a good thing, but we must do a little hanging first”. How much did they actually influenced him, however, is all up to speculation. He was very young (only eighteen!!) and deeply respected his mother's opinions, as well as he agreed with Schwarzenberg, but he also wasn't a manipulable person and one of his first goals was to rule alone as an autocrat.

The emperor appointed General Julius Haynau to lead the forces against the revolutionary Hungarians in 1849. Haynau already had earned a reputation as a violent man for the brutal repression he commanded against the Italians during 1848, and was said to have “a meanness not entirely in keeping with military dignity”. About the exact number of people that lost their lives in Hungary during the revolution and the counter revolution, Hungarian historian András Gerő says in his biography of Franz Josef that:

We do not possess detailed information concerning the ensuing terror. We can barely say with certainty how many lost their lives fighting for the rights of their nation in 1848-49. Generally speaking, only the victors draw up statistics. According to  Austrian calculations, some fifty-five thousand Hungarians fell in the fighting. The period of repression, which lasted through the autumn and winter of 1849, saw 120 judicial executions: the number of those executed without due process, “shot while escaping,” as the grim saying goes, remains unknown. Around forty to fifty thousand were forcibly recruited into the army or deported, while 1,200 were imprisoned. Thousands emigrated. The lack of adequate statistics speaks for itself. Similarly expressive was the manner in which the resolution of 20 August was enforced. Haynau had wanted to stage large-scale executions as early as 24 August, but the Russians and the Habsburg court had restrained him.

These executions were all highly unpopular abroad and there was an outcry of indignation from many other countries. Needless to say, this also made the young emperor a hated figure within the empire too. By 26 October of 1849 Franz Josef called the executions to a halt, in part because of the protests against them but also because most of the big figureheads of the revolution who were caught had already been punished. However:

Haynau remained unconcerned: he continued to issue and to carry out death sentences against the emperor’s orders. Despite the embarrassment this caused, for the time being the emperor did not react to Haynau’s brazen insubordination. It seems that he did not lack “‘patience,” “human understanding,” and the “spirit of forgiveness” after all (what is more, Francis Joseph even decided to pardon some, albeit low-ranking, offenders).

I've seen people dismissing the emperor's role in the counter revolution by pinning it to others (which is what Die Kaiserin did by stating that Sophie singlehandedly was the responsible for the rebels executions). Which I don't agree with. I mean, if the EMPEROR isn't responsible for the policies applied in his name with his consent, then who is? To quote Gerő once again:

In hindsight, while Francis Joseph’s responsibility can be shared out among others, it cannot in any way be diminished. Naturally, both Schwarzenberg, the prime mover of events, and Haynau, who had acted under orders, were complicit. But Francis Joseph could have withdrawn his consent at any time. As we have seen, he had demonstrated on a number of occasions his readiness and ability to act as he saw fit when he felt the need to demonstrate his free will and sense of responsibility as a sovereign. He had every opportunity to make up his own mind about the policy of repression, if he had thought differently from his advisors. Furthermore, this would have been a wise course, given that a willingness to be merciful was part of the image of a sovereign, and that there were some who actively urged him in that direction. Had he exercised mercy, his rule over Hungary would not have been undermined. However, showing mercy was not a matter of principle for him, but rather one of tactics.

Now if he ever regretted these executions, I don't know. The only thing that I could find is this that Elisabeth said to Bishop Mihály Horváth: “Believe me, if it were in our power, my husband and I would be the first to bring Luwdig Battyany and the blood witnesses of Arad back to life” (1986, Hamann). Which is an statement that I would take with a grain of salt, to be honest. I don't doubt that Elisabeth was being sincere on the sentiment (in fact she ended up befriending Batthyány's son), but whether the sentiment truly extended to her husband is hard to say (if someone knows of any statement Franz Josef ever made of this please add it!)

Hope you found my answer helpful!