#and would definitely be up for turning it from being a german project for like 8 years now into an english continuation

[umseb]

Vettel says F1 return could be 'appealing and interesting' as he reveals talks with Mercedes boss Wolff

Four-time world champion Sebastian Vettel says he doesn't feel too old to compete in Formula 1 and would potentially be interested in a return to the sport if the package was right.

Vettel hung up his gloves and helmet at the end of the 2022 campaign, following two challenging seasons with Aston Martin, but with thirteen seats available on next year's grid and drivers like Fernando Alonso racing into their 40s, 36-year-old Vettel admitted to considering a return to the championship. "The better the car, the better the team, the more exciting it is in terms of having the prospect of being successful," said Vettel when speaking to Radio X in the UK. "I'm following the sport, I see what's going on. And it might be appealing and interesting, but it really depends on the full package because it is a big commitment, as well, with all the other stuff going on outside the driving activity. To seriously consider, it would very much depend on the package. From an age point of view, I feel bloody young with all the guys that are still hanging around and signing big contracts, being around for longer. It looks like I could have another ten years in the sport! So I'm definitely ahead of them, in terms of keeping fit." With Lewis Hamilton departing Mercedes for Ferrari next season, a seat at the Silver Arrows is among the most sought-after on the grid When asked by Sky Sports how he would feel about an offer to drive for Mercedes, Vettel responded: "I've had conversations with him [Mercedes boss Toto Wolff], not really about the seat. We did speak about the whole situation, in short, as well. But I did speak to others, as well, because I'm still keeping in touch every now and then. I have some projects and ideas together with F1. We'll see if they will turn out or not. So I am staying in touch. I don't know. It has to be a couple more phone calls and conversations, I guess, to really find out a little bit more. But for sure it is one of the best seats on the grid." One of the reasons for Vettel choosing to leave the sport was so that he could spend more time with his children. A racing return would pull him back on the road and away from his family for large chunks of the year, with the four-time champion admitting that that would be a factor to consider. "It is a decision that I take for myself, but I take for the family as well," added Vettel. "The kids have already said that they love it the way it is now. They wouldn't really support big-time to go back, but they said that without [me] asking, to be honest. Depending on the car, it will be something that we discuss together, obviously." Meanwhile, having tested a Porsche 963 hypercar at Motorland Aragón last week, there had been talk that a Le Mans outing this year with the German manufacturer might be on the cards for Vettel. But Vettel said he didn't think the prospect was "realistic," adding: "It was very exciting, very different to have a roof over your head, but yeah, it was it was a cool experience."

[widowswineapologist]

I'm very curious about Modern AU Primis Richtofen and how it usually would be spending evenings with his s/o

a/n: i wish i could understand the appeal behind domesticity when it comes to modern aus 😭😭 i default to wanting to teach the crew internet lingo- 

♡ i feel like it's just in edward's blood to pick a mentally demanding job, no matter what timeline or universe he's in. the man can't catch a break frrr…

♡ so, usually when comes home from whatever job he has, the absolute first thing he does is basically face plant onto the softest thing he can find so he can decompress for a good couple of minutes. 

♡ it's not uncommon for him to just grab you and flop on the couch during this little "ritual" of his. you better pray you weren't doing anything important because you have a tall german man clinging onto you like a koala and he will be VERY upset if anything interrupts this quick cuddle time. 

♡ after that, i think anything is fair game! he'll usually talk to you about his day, and he'll listen if you want to tell him about yours. he's a good listener :3 (shocking, i know)

♡ this is just a general headcanon i have, but he's definitely the type to have a chore chart or something like that. he doesn't like housework being a one-sided thing, he does his part and he expects you to do yours too. (though, he'll give you a free pass or two if you bribe him <3)

♡ with that in mind, it's not uncommon for him to be the one cooking dinner. he actually quite enjoys being in the kitchen, it's calming for him at times. richtofen's entertained the thought of cooking with you before but he tends to get very commanding when he cooks and he doesn't want to treat you like that :[ (he'll save that for the bedroom JKJK)

♡ i definitely feel like it's also a common occurrence for you two to be doing completely different activities, even though you're basically right beside each other. richtofen usually always has something he needs to be doing, and your presence makes it a lot easier for him to put the work in. he just likes existing with you, it makes him happy. there has been a lot of times where you have both been sitting on the couch and he's working on some kind of paperwork and you're working on your own projects, and you're both there and you're happy :) 

♡ richtofen definitely has suggested some kind of game night to you before. you indulged him, but quickly regretted it because instead of something fun like monopoly or charades, he instead wanted to play things like chess or scrabble. luckily, there's a bunch of board games that combine both fun and intellectual capability, so you haven't ruled game night out entirely. god help you if he suggests playing a game he created himself. 

♡ occasionally, you'll have movie night, in which you will have to brave richtofen critiquing a movie to dust for the entire duration of said movie. he'll shut up if you "shh" him a couple of times, but he'll pout about it. if he's lucky, you're one of those people that like video essays so you'll listen to every single one of his critiques and add in a few of your own. he'd give cinemasins a run for their money ong- 

♡ more often than not, you'll be ready for bed before him. you practically have to drag him to bed every night because he'll always, and i mean ALWAYS, tell you he has some more work to do and he'll meet you in a few minutes, which then turns into a few hours, which then turns into him falling asleep at his desk and waking up late for work. no matter how many times you scold him, this never changes. you're about to chain him to the bed at this point.

♡ (which, let's be honest, he might enjoy.) 

[maks-punchout-hyperfixtion]

*cracks knuckles* ay folks you get a tumbler exclusive for awhile because I'm to lazy to actually go onto ao3

Reminder time!! This is my a.u and is not a direct depiction of spo/wii aran Ryan's personality

Tw's: slightly detailed injuries, reference to Macbeth, and self harm by hot water

Thanks to: @atypical-artisan for helping with errors and formatting

“Aran! C’mon we're going to be late!”

Absolutely no response came from the guy. Having Andrew sigh as if it was a daily occurrence now.

“Give the kid a break this is the longest he’s been separated from Ardin since..” Roree took her brush and tapped it seven times before snapping. “Since that time the school separated them by accident!”

“Roree, that's not something to be excited about.” Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't got time for this! I have a match in an hour!”

“Andy it's not until 3.”

“If you're not early you're-”

“late blah blah blah you know i think Deedee knows a german fella you would love.”

“If I wasn't pissed already I would smack you.”

“Oh I would love to see you try!”

Andrew growled and Started to head upstairs, muttering about the upcoming fight. And complaining about Lucky being a whole sea away for another disaster, as he turned and opened the door.

“Aran!- I said- down Cu- I said come on!” Andrew pushed the dog down before giving it a small pat. He looked directly at the bed that had Aran in it. “I know you ain't sick lad, otherwise we would have been to the doctors already… again…”

“i rather be there then see another one of ye go against the bi-”

“Watch your tone.”

Andrew attempted to step over the random clothing and items on the floor, the kid loved to do big projects but god forbid he cleans his room, as he then took Aran’s blanket and pulled them off.

“Hey!”

“You’re goin’. I'm not leaving you: a teenager who witnessed his twin get sent to the hospital because of a damn cheater, alone in a house with more than enough to make us wo-OW!”

Aran slid a pair of horseshoes onto Andrew's foot, and despite seeing it coming it still hurt. Andrew shook his foot before glaring at Aran and picking up the horseshoes.

“You're going, rather you're being willing or not. And I can hold up me own with you so I suggest-”

“Yeah I'm feckin’ going lieutenant bollox.”

That got a smack from Andrew as Aran got up. Who just rolled his eyes and grabbed a sleeveless hoodie from the ground. Andrew rolled his eyes before sighing.

“Ye know we care about ya right?”

“Mhm.”

“..look Aran I promise that im goin’ to remind her not to fuck around with us.”

“And how will you do that?”

Aran took a glance at the horseshoes before stuffing them in his own hoodie’s pocket.

“Going with a different style.”

There were multiple reasons why Andrew never cheated. First, it reminded him of how unfair the world could truly be, the second stemmed from Ardin who once saw Aran break his hand from the horseshoe in glove tactic and now gets on top of people who do that. The 3rd reason was self explanatory, it was just wrong. He got here fair and square and he always wanted to stay like that.

Plus hitting a girl with horseshoes that were your own brother’s seemed wrong. But after a week of hearing the girl shit talk his own family the final straw was definitely close to breaking now.

Yet at the same time, it was still cheating. Even Narcis got onto him about it. Yes he wanted revenge for putting his sister in the hospital but she was 19 and able to stand her own ground normally.

“This is a mistake,” He muttered, adjusting his gloves.

There was a faint line that showed where the horseshoes were. He had time to call for a glove check. That would make a fair fight. He turned around to his coach but before he could say anything his opponent started yapping.

“Ey! Rran! You ready to prove to your own country that your family is full of weak and pathetic people? Thought your sister would relay the message!”

Rran- I mean Andrew snapped his head back, giving his opponent a death glare as his coach tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ay, you need something lad?”

Andrew thought for a moment before the bell signaling the start sounded.

“Just have medics on stand by.”

He got up from his corner, hearing the announcer shout the name Aran Ryan, god he's going to need to change that soon, with a lot more accuracy then the bitch Infornt of him ever actually did.

God will it be a blessing for her to shut up and have a ruined face.

The referee stepped onto the mat in-between the two, not uncommon when you put two enemies together in a match, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Ight let's get this over with. This is a time trial so you only have 3 minutes. Once those three minutes are up you both go back to your corners and I'll decide the winner. You both should know the tko and ko rules by now right?”

“Yeah yeah can we get punching now?”

“Andrew, I will personally give you 20 euros if you break her mouth.”

Punch blade looked quite offended at that as Andrew just rolled his eyes.

“Oh relax about him.”

He glared at punch blade.

“I'm going to do much much worse.”

As the bell rung again Andrew’s coach went over to the doors, specifically where Roree and Aran were.

“Shouldn't yo-”

“I'm getting the medics like he asked. Wanna come?”

“No thanks. I got the short straw with this one.”

Aran slightly nudged Roree for that statement, solely because it wasn't a wise discussion even for him to smack someone who has a metal weight on her wrist. That alone was probably 5 pounds. Let alone the fact she was kinda an official arms wrestler. He proceeded to watch the fight, only slightly noticing something was off.

“Hey Roree?”

“Hm?”

“I think he broke her back.”

“Oh very fu- wait what.”

As if on cue as Roree turned around she saw Andrew push the screaming girl off of him, and landed a kick right in the stomach. Not a signature move in the ring. But definitely a signature move outside of it. And it always landed someone in the hospital and him in the station.

“Oh shit- uh Aran im going to run somewhere you just um stay.”

Aran just gave a thumbs up as Roree ran into the hall.

Meanwhile the referee started the count as soon as punch blade hit the floor, but stopped when he saw Andrew pull another punch directly in her face.

“Hey. Andrew, that's enough! Back to your corner!”

But Andrew didn't care, he continued the punches, landing them in spots that would definitely leave more than a bruise.

The only time he stopped was when a blade sliced over his glove, cutting it open, Resulting in the horseshoe falling out and a gasp from the crowd, even Aran looked shocked at the scene.

The shock eventually wore off as punch blade took her knife out of her glove and attempted to stab Andrew with it, only for him to grab her arm and smash the horseshoe right onto it.

The look in his eyes was almost chilling as he lifted the thing up, like he was contemplating something, before he smashed the horseshoe right into her mouth. Breaking past the mouth guard and cracking a few teeth, the second time did a few in.

He then grabbed her hair and smashed the side of her head, right where her ear was. He was about to go for her neck next when something grabbed the horseshoe and yanked it out of his hand.

“Jesus fuck Andrew enough! She's down! You won!”

Roree tossed the horseshoe aside and grabbed Andrew's arm and pulled him away while a medic looked at punch blade. The ring was now stained with blood.

“Dude the hell did you do to her?”

The referee got onto the ring while looking at punch blade, causing Andrew to look too.

Frankly what was listed wasn't the only thing he apparently did, there was a gash on her head and she was spitting pieces of teeth and mouth guard out, but she was clenching the side of her torso, specifically where the ribs were. And it was clear her arm was broken, or at least fractured. Her leg was sprained. Frankly Andrew didn't actually recall what he did or didn't do, but the horrified look on the peoples faces he could see spelled it all.

He almost killed her.

“Andrew?”

No response, what was there to say anyways? ‘oh i'm sorry for nearly killing you’?

Like he could have gotten the words out, his entire body was shaking, almost near hyperventilating.

Without another word he pulled his arm away from Roree, got up and rushed off the ring. Not even stopping as his sister yelled for him, then he was just gone.

It was only an hour after statements were given and the fun of it. In full frank nobody in any of the WVBA's would say anything bad about Andrew, hell shark bite from Australia even said he should have killed Lucy, yet it was completely useless as the officials found a letter of resignation and Andrew’s locker cleaned out shortly after they went to find him. Causing quite the worry in some of the Ireland officials and his own siblings.

“I'm sure he's fine. This was just. Something out of the ordinary he’ll come back!”

“No. No Aran he isn't.”

Roree sighed as she stopped herself from putting her head on the steering wheel of the car. Aran was holding his horseshoes Andrew stole, a case wasn't opened so it wasn't used as evidence, Aran wished it was though. It was probably more blood then horseshoe now, he had it wrapped in a couple of paper towels but they didn't do a good job of absorbing the blood. And frankly he was still scared of the whole thing, funny considering the fact he wasn't scared of anything else.

“Aran. If he's home I don't want you talking to him. Not yet anyways.”

Aran was about to protest as Roree held up her hand.

“You. You don't know this side of him. Frankly I rather you don't even come inside ‘til I tell you. Just, leave us alone to talk. Alright?”

There was more worry in her voice now. As if she was contemplating what she would find when she got home.

“Actually. If he is home -call Narcis, he had a fight with an Irish rookie today he should still be here, unless he actually likes making 2 to 6 hour trips.”

They stopped at their house, seeing Andrew’s bike just tossed onto the ground.

“Well at least he made it home in one piec- wait when did bring his bike?!”

“I think he just kept it there just in case.”

“Aran do me a favor and don't do that when you and Ardin move to new york. They're worse than here.”

Roree got out of the car and tossed her phone over to Aran.

“Narcis’s name is under ‘golden bastard’- don't tell Andrew- I'm going to go talk to him.”

Aran gave a thumbs up again as Roree went inside, her first notice was the mirror being foggy, the second was hot water being run.

“Andrew, you better not have been trying to wash your hands clean of blood like Lady Macbeth with hot water again!”

The water was shut off as the sound of a towel being quickly wrapped around hands was heard. How? Because he kept hitting the sink with his hand as Roree noticed him cleaning the sink from water drops.

“Andrew.”

“what?”

“The hell are you doing?”

“...dishes.”

“What dishes? I did them this morning before we left!”

Andrew stayed silent as Roree walked over, steam was still leaving the stink as she grabbed the towel and pulled it off, seeing his typically slightly tan but still pale skin being sunburnt red. She just sighed as if this wasn't the first time.

“I'm not going to bug you on that. Why did you quit?”

“Why? Ain’t it obvious?”

Roree just shook her head at that.

“Andy, nobody in that association is going to turn you in. Hell they'll even drop the to-”

“I don't care. I still broke my own morals and almost killed someone in the ring!”

“That's.. well that's a bit of an over statement aint it?”

“Oh when the hell is it?!”

Andrew slammed his hand on the sink, before pulling it back.

“It doesn't matter, Roree. I'm not going back to a place that allows filthy cheaters to compete.”

“Aran’s a filthy cheater. I’m a filthy cheater. Are you saying-”

“You two are different. And again it doesn't and will not matter! Frankly I was already planning on quitting. This was just a send off.”

Roree was taken aback a bit from that.

“But you love boxing! It was your dream! What changed?”

“There's a difference between a dream and a reality, Roree. My dream was boxing. The reality is that no matter what somebody is going to cheat someone out of something.”

Andrew put a hand on his head. “I'm getting a headache. I'm going to bed.”

Before Roree could say anything he tossed the towel onto her head and walked off to his room. The door slammed shut as he entered it. Roree just looked onwards. Pondering if he was being serious or not. Then the front door slammed open.

“DUDE YOU BROKE THE FECKIN' HANDLE!”

well on the high note. At Least they could now replace that ugly door handle Narcis just ripped off. Roree didn't say anything, just pointed to Andrew’s room as Narcis Sprinted to his room. She proceeded to glare at Aran.

“What?”

“I told you to just call him.”

“I did!”

“You said something, what was it?”

“Just a recap of everything.”

“I'm never trusting you with calling someone ever again.”

[aneurinallday]

Gibson and the Shivering Soldier

Chapter 4: Mémoire

As the days passed, their lives fell into a comfortable rhythm. They helped each other cook, and took turns doing the housework, and became accustomed to each other’s bathroom schedule. William would try to teach Gibson English, and Gibson would try to teach William French; but little progress was made due to their shared awkwardness. The rest of their time was filled with board-games and cards, one of the few things that they could both understand.

In the mornings, William would make phone-calls and answer letters from the army. Desperate for a project to occupy his mind, he started pulling up the weeds and trimming the overgrown flower-bed outside - perhaps motivated by a subconscious desire to be presentable in the eyes of his guest. In the evenings, when there were fewer people about, they would go for a walk, or go to the shops just before closing time, so Gibson could go outside without feeling overwhelmed by too many voices.

The soft-spoken Frenchman seemed to have a keenness for baking, which William was happy to encourage. When he saw William preparing the ingredients to make bread, it was the first time he exhibited a desire to take charge. He gently shepherded the Englishman out of the way so that he could take command of the kitchen-top, and soon was engrossed in his work.

Seeing him knead the yeasted dough on the counter, with flour all the way up his forearms, William was struck by how focused he seemed. Gibson’s green eyes were clear and bright and full of concentration. He wasn’t thinking about bombs falling from the sky and sea-water filling his lungs, but about dough elasticity and whether he needed another pinch of salt.

What came out of the oven was a perfect, slashed loaf of French bread - crispy and golden-brown on the outside, fluffy and airy on the inside. William sawed off a slice and spread a thin scraping of butter on it, then took a crunchy bite while Gibson watched expectantly.

“Bien,” said William, “Definitely bien.”

Gibson smiled with a combination of pride and relief. It was the first time he’d looked happy.

From then on, whenever the ration cards allowed it, Gibson would make a batch of dough before bed so that he could leave it to rise overnight, and the next morning he would bake a fresh loaf, filling the flat with the cosy smell of baking.

It was Tuesday, June 18, and Gibson had been living in William’s flat for almost two weeks. After a supper of suet pudding and peas, it was Gibson’s turn to do the dishes. William sat in the living room, smoking a cigarette and listening to the evening radio. Churchill was repeating the great speech he’d made to the House of Commons earlier in the day. Behind him, he could hear water splashing in the kitchen sink, and cutlery clattering as Gibson washed up.

Gibson stood at the sink, staring absent-mindedly into the water as he scrubbed the gravy off the plates. He couldn’t understand what was being said on the radio, but the tinny voice crackling through the air-waves sounded solemn and authoritative. Turning on the hot tap, he started to rinse the soap off the plate. Water splashed from the ceramic curve, splattering the front of his shirt.

Suddenly, he became conscious of how wet his hands were. More water was gushing from the tap, a strong flow that beat against the bottom of the metal sink. And just like that, he was back in the darkness, back in the submerging hull.

He remembered everything.

He remembered the blue fishing trawler, sinking pathetically a stone’s throw from the beach.

He remembered the smell of a dozen terrified men who’d been cooped up together for hours, cowering on the floor from German bullets.

He remembered the water gushing and pouring through bullet-holes in the hull, and trying frantically to plug the flow.

He remembered Alex shouting something, indecipherable over all the noise; and turning his head - now chin-deep in water - just in time to see Alex climbing out of the ceiling hatch, disappearing from view.

He remembered taking a deep breath and lunging towards the hatch, only to be pushed back by the force of the sea.

He remembered the chain tangled around his torso. The pure panic setting in as he realised he couldn’t get another breath, and started struggling wildly.

Help me, he thought, Help me. But nobody helped him.

He opened his mouth in a reflexive attempt to gasp for air, but gulped down water instead, filling his lungs with agony.

His stolen khaki uniform was heavy with water, weighing him down, as if in revenge for being stripped off its dead owner.

The open hatch was so close he could see the sunlight outside, the ladder so close he could brush it with his fingertips. He was drowning less than a metre away from air, from escape, from his friends. He tried to cry out, bubbles streaming from his mouth, but it seemed Tommy and Alex couldn’t hear him from underwater.

He was barely conscious when the chain abruptly broke free, the sudden release sending him lurching forward against the rungs of the ladder. His body moved by itself. Without even thinking, he clawed at the ladder, dragging himself upwards, pure survival instinct propelling him towards the sunlight. Towards life.

As he emerged choking and spluttering into the open air, William was there waiting for him.

“Hey. Hey.” William gently rubbed Gibson’s arms, trying to still their violent tremors. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“Ne me quitte pas!” Gibson cried out.

“It’s alright! Breathe with me. Breathe. Breathe.”

Gibson found himself kneeling on the tiled floor of the little kitchen, shaking and sweating. The front of his shirt wet with soap bubbles. From where he was, he could see dust under the cupboards, and the corner of the wallpaper peeling away. But he could also see the blue trawler disappearing below the water, and the debris floating around him, and the overcrowded boats passing him by while he begged for help - dozens of men’s faces staring down at him, but not a single hand being offered.

“Ne me quitte pas, s'il vous plait,” he said. It was the most words he’d uttered in one go in almost a month.

“Hey. Look at me. Look at me.” William was crouching in front of him. “I’m here, and you’re here. We’re safe. See? We’re at home.”

For a while they stayed like that, Gibson trembling and gasping, William speaking softly - the words meaningless to the Frenchman’s ears, but the tone warm and consolatory.

“Let’s get you up, eh? Can you stand up?” He gave Gibson’s arms a tug. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

With William’s assistance, Gibson rose stiffly to his feet, his knees hurting from the tiles. William helped him to a chair and sat him down.

“There we go. I’ll put the kettle on.”

As Gibson’s glassy eyes followed him around the room, William filled the kettle, set it to boil, and started to prepare two cups of tea.

“There’s still some digestives left,” he said, giving the biscuit tin a shake to test its weight. “And the shortbread ones. You like those, don’t you? Tomorrow I’ll have to pop to the shop and see if they’ve got any more.”

As he listened to William’s teaspoon clinking against the sides of the cups, Gibson started to cry.

They’d left him behind. The Englishmen. The Highlanders. Alex. Tommy. He’d saved their lives twice - on the sinking ship when he’d freed them from below decks, and in the water afterwards, when he’d tossed them a rope - but they’d repaid him with abandonment. He’d been their friend, but they’d left him to drown.

He tried to take deep breaths to quell his sobs, but they just kept coming. He could still taste the seawater and feel his chest burning.

“Ma papa me manque,” he said, “Ma maman me manque.”

William stopped stirring, put aside his spoon, and sat down next to Gibson. He clasped Gibson’s clammy, trembling hands and held them. As he did so, he realised that his own hands were steady.

“I don’t know what you saw, back on that beach,” said William, “But I saw things too. There was a U-boat and a torpedo and…and…I ended up alone. Maybe you went through the same thing as me, maybe not. But the feeling is the same. You feel…weak. Useless. Like you failed. Like you don’t deserve to be alive. But it’s not true. You’re strong. You didn’t fail anything, because nothing was expected of you. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, which was stay alive. You deserve to be here. Alright?”

Gibson looked down and realised they were still holding hands. He quickly let go.

“Merci,” he said.

“Now, come on. Let’s have a cup of tea and a biscuit, shall we?”

It wasn’t the last time Gibson found himself trapped in a waking nightmare. Each time the panic returned, William was there for him. For the first time since Weymouth, William’s sense of detachment and disinterest was gone. Suddenly, he had a purpose. A responsibility. The numbness which had gripped him ever since he’d found himself alone on the water, had finally dissipated.

Gibson needed him.

Finally, William had something to do, other than just exist. A goal other than pure survival. Back in the English Channel, he’d been a shivering wreck, huddled on the deck of a civilian yacht, too afraid to venture below. Terrified that another torpedo would strike, and the sea would come flooding in, and  the hull would become his coffin. He was supposed to be an officer and a leader. But he’d lost his status and his crew. Lost his composure, his gentlemanly comportment. Lost everything.

But now, he was starting to feel like himself again. Being in a position to care for Gibson - to comfort him and protect him - made him feel useful and strong again. He was regaining his sense of authority and manhood.

His own nightmares were, if only for a little while, forgotten.

Chapter 5: Armistice

[latibvles]

WITH YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER.

PAIRING: Dick Winters x Reader

GENRE: Tooth-rotting fluff. Cavity-inducing even.

SUMMARY: Aimless Austria sweetness featuring shirtless Dick Winters because I am a simple woman with simple needs. Yes I was in fact listening to Older by 5SOS when writing this.

DEDICATIONS: @liebgotts-lovergirl because you can bet your ass this is me projecting all of the love I have for Major Winters into a ficlet after that cute prompt you sent me

he is literally so fine fr okay um moving right along ( and no this isn’t proofread )—

In your time in Europe — one undeniable truth became apparent. Peace was hard fought. The serenity of Zell Am See was a testament to that fact. That, and the silver band which now occupied your ring finger, catching the light of the early morning sun.

You sit patiently at the water’s edge as he swims back to you, pushing himself back up onto the rock and pushing his fingers through sopping reddish hair. Almost immediately thereafter, he slips his matching silver band onto his own finger, and shoots you a warm smile.

It wasn’t a wedding ring — but it was definitely a promise. Dick had been more than adamant on the fact that as much as he loved showering you with German loot, your engagement ring had to be more special than that. Promise rings, however, were fair game, plucked from a long abandoned house near the Eagle’s Nest, exchanged in the quiet of a balcony with the soft-spoken promise of “When things are better.”

That being said, things here honestly felt pretty damn good.

Reaching up to dry off his own hair with a towel, you begin to giggle and at that, Dick raises a curious brow.

“What is it?”

“I was expecting you to shake your head like a dog again n’ get me all wet.” You tease, and you can hear his quiet scoff as he sets the towel down.

“It was one time and I didn’t see you,” he’s not actually upset, so the way his voice takes on an almost childish sort of whine that’s so out of character for him is equally as amusing.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going blind now, Dickie.” He rolls his eyes fondly at the nickname. He’d shown you a letter from his parents once, back in Aldbourne. Ever since, when you really wanted to mess with him, the name rolled off your tongue as easily as any other quip did. Admittedly, he didn’t mind it whenever it came from you.

“Then I won’t tell you.”

His smile only grows when you reach out to slightly push him — a warm hand upon his chilled skin from the water. He sways only slightly, because he isn’t really trying to resist, before he scoots back beside you. You look over his face, the amused glint in his eyes as he returns your stare. Dick Winters was perfectly capable of smiling and joking and laughing with the rest — it was just rare to see him actually do it. Breaking professionalism was something Nixon was more often the witness of and victim to, gaining a sort of self-serving amusement watching his best friend respond to his sarcasm with equal dryness or some other remark.

Nixon, and you, who had managed to worm your way in and get him to laugh and smile more often than he really should’ve.

It started with small things, almost comically childish in nature, like pulling a stink-eye when Sobel had his back turned or participating in the good-natured ribbing that most if not all enlisted men partook in. Then going back and forth with Nix whenever he happened to be around, and eventually annexing Dick into your jests on the one-off occasion.

Without necessarily meaning to, you’d managed to stumble your way into Dick’s heart — he, on the other hand, seemed to march into yours to the cadence of your heartbeat.

“Withholding information is a terrible way to start off a marriage. Your poor mother would faint at the very thought,” All he can do is laugh, wholeheartedly, at your immediate response. While it was definitely true, Edith Winters would have many words on the matter — the entire hypothetical was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help himself.

“Then I guess I’ll have to tell you when I go blind after all.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

You lapse for a moment into silence, reaching over to lace your fingers and smile fondly at Dick’s matching promise ring. As the morning sun continues to rise and break through the trees lining the lake, you find yourself resting your cheek on the man’s freckled shoulder, pressing a kiss to it and then bumping your nose against it. In response, you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

It feels like, for the briefest moment, that the world has come to a halt, holding their breath and allowing two young lovers to cherish this moment of respite. You both knew that even in peace times, work was to be done — wrangling the soldiers into some semblance of order, managing POWs, all sorts of things that would no doubt demand your immediate attention in the coming hours.

But all that could wait.

Right now, all that really mattered was Dick’s thumb tracing small patterns into the back of your hand, the water droplets smeared by the cheek on his skin, the stillness in the air, the ripples in the pond, and the feeling that, without even needing to check — your hearts were likely beating in time, the same pulse thrumming through two bodies at a slow and steady pace.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your hair, and while he’s said it before, you’ve always noticed how it slips out easier and easier with time. Like it’s as second nature as breathing, as objective as the sky being blue.

“I love you, too.” you whisper in kind, and you don’t need to look directly at him to know he’s smiling.

When things are better, you’d promised each other. When you could really settle down, crank out a whole guest list of wedding invites, meet Ethel Winters face-to-face and Annie too. When Dick could get you a ring even more special than the ones you wore now. That kind of better. But if that was better — this kind of peace was a pretty good place to start. And it was more than worth fighting for.

And if you stay there on the water’s edge, simplistically entwined for a few moments longer than you normally would — that was no one’s business but your own.

[abybweisse]

Reading your quick analyses on the latest chapter made me wonder. Do you think there is any possibility that the facility in which Finny was held is also related to Undertaker?

German drug lab and Undertaker

That's highly unlikely... unless the drug tested on Finny was later used for someone like Polaris. Otherwise, it seems too broad of a scope for his attentions. Mostly, it seems too early for Undertaker to be interested in anything more than cinematic records and how to revive the dead.

Finny's experience seems too far removed from anything Undertaker was doing, and I don't mean physical distance. Undertaker could easily be up to something in Germany, as he definitely has something going on in France, but it's likely not drug testing, and even less likely for strength-enhancing drugs.

It would be interesting if Undertaker turns out to be the main person in the Osiris group... and he was just lying about being interested in drugs. Stoker definitely fell for his lie that all of this revival technology was purely medical science.

Even if Undertaker is with the Osiris group, I don't think they are particularly concerned with strength-enhancing drugs... unless, like I said, he finds use for it with bizarre dolls like Polaris.

It's important to note that none of the bizarre dolls on the ship seem to have much strength. Finny was dosed with whatever for an extended amount of time, and he's the first to join the Phantomhive household after Sebastian. By the time the "animal weapons" are set loose on the ship, Undertaker should have been able to get them all dosed, especially if he told Stoker the drug would help with the revival process. It wouldn't have been administered over a long time for them, but it would be a somewhat fresh dose.

Undertaker comes up with all sorts of ideas, based on various information and his own observations. Even if he later uses strength-enhancing drugs on bizarre dolls, it's probably technology he took... not something he helped develop.

I'd look at the German military. Maybe Diedrich knows something about it, much like he found and pulled the top secret files about the witch project. He might have helped our earl on that drug testing facility, too.

[creature-wizard]

The Strange Claims of Svali, the Fake Illuminati Defector

For anyone who happens to be new here, Svali is a fake ex-Illuminati programmer who claimed that she was part of a global conspiracy that was deliberately inducing dissociative identity disorder in all of its members. If you've ever heard of stuff like color/metal/gemstone programming, or fictive programming, that comes from Svali.

I have an update on Svali's own sources of inspiration, though - a lot of the stuff I initially thought that she'd come with herself appear to be sourced from How The Illuminati Create An Undetectable Total Mind Controlled Slave by Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler. This book proposes that the Illuminati is deliberately creating alters in people for the purpose of turning them into perfect slaves, and claims that modern media is used in the process.

My general statement that the conspiracy theorists in the DID community are sourcing their info from Svali is still accurate, because it's clearly quoting directly from her rather than from Cisco and Springmeier's much longer, more elaborate work. However, a lot of stuff that I initially believed came from Svali is definitely sourced from this book, which taking a glance at it, is even more ridiculous than the shit Svali claims. (And yes, she clearly got the idea that autism is caused by SRA from this book, which claims that autism is increasing because SRA is increasing. Fuck you, Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler.)

And once again, Svali's claims are also clearly influenced by discredited people such as Mike Warnke and Lauren Stratford. At the core, she's pushing the same Satanic Panic bullshit Evangelical Christians were cooking up and pushing in order to demonize anyone who wasn't a conservative (and particularly Evangelical) Christian, and scare people who already were conservative Christians into remaining such. Most of the claims were basically repackaged antisemitism and witch panic, just updated to be more plausible and relevant to audiences of the day.

In part six of the second part of her... interview, I guess? She claims that Bohemian Grove is an Illuminati thing. For those who don't know, conspiracy theorists basically believe that satanists perform human sacrifices to Molech there, whom they claim the giant owl represents. As far as I can tell, a lot of this goes back to a man named Paul Bonacci, who claimed to be a victim in the Franklin child prostitution ring allegations, which was purely a product of the Satanic Panic. Bonacci apparently claimed that he'd seen a snuff film made there. Worth noting, the Satanic Panic was big on the idea that all of these snuff films were being made, but there is literally zero evidence of such a thing.

Svali complains about people refusing to believe that SRA is real and dismissing the "evidence." For example:

You can show them a site with pentagrams, buried bones, and other evidence, and they would say, "Oh, that is just teenagers playing around".

Uh, yeah, Svali, it probably is just teenagers playing around. Teenagers do that kind of thing. Also, if the Illuminati was so good at covering its tracks, why would we find evidence like this? Seriously, why would a hypercompetent global cult leave such a mess?

Didn't think this one through, did ya?

In part seven, Svali talks about alleged Illuminati symbols. She claims that phoenixes and eagles (especially the German eagle) are symbols of the Illuminati, and claims that phoenixes symbolize the resurrection rituals where members' hearts are stopped and restarted with CPR, then told that Baal or another demon brought them back.

Next she claims that butterflies symbolize monarch programming. For those who don't know, a lot of conspiracy theorists believe in Project Monarch, which allegedly evolved out of MK-Ultra. Conspiracy theorists claim that any time you see a picture of a model or a celebrity wearing a butterfly, that means they're under monarch mind control, because they believe that the Illuminati has some weird spiritual obligation to tell the public what they're doing, even if it's not in a way the general public will understand. Or they supposedly do it to mock so they can giggle at them for not understanding the symbols they allegedly put "in plain sight."

Either way it's really ridiculous, and basically comes out of conspiracy theorists making something out of nothing. Since there's never any real evidence for these conspiracies, they have to fabricate it by claiming that things you can find anywhere are actually secret conspiratorial symbols.

She also claims that the Great Seal of Solomon is used at the "highest rituals" to invoke the demonic. Which, I mean, this is a symbol used in the context of demonolatry, but like, it has nothing to do with any kind of conspiracy, and much less originates from a global satanic conspiracy cult.

She claims that earth, wind, and fire (but somehow not air?) are Illuminati symbols?

Earth, water, and fire: these three are used in a lot of ceremonies. Check out how many Saturday a.m. cartoons use this concept. You'd be amazed. In fact, "The Fifth Element" movie was based on it.

Ma'am, you're gonna be shocked to learn that the classical elements were literally just what people used to reckon the natural world was made out of. It's been part of culture outside of occult contexts for thousands of years now.

She claims that the Illuminati is big on Greek and Roman symbols like... lightning bolts. Like uhhh yeah Zeus is associated with lightning bolts, but since when are lightning bolts, per se, a major Greco-Roman symbol? I dunno, this is very ridiculous and thank goodness we're getting closer and closer to the end.

Next she claims that the Illuminati runs the porn industry and produces CSEM, and claims that, "If a profit is being made off of human suffering, you can trace the chain back somewhere to these people."

She claims that they have money and lawyers for years and have infiltrated the governments and the media, and that they "run our financial institutions." Ma'am you're literally just spreading repackaged antisemitism here.

Oh and of course they're working on bringing in the Antichrist:

They are working towards bringing in a new leader, who will usher in a Luciferian reign of joy, prosperity, and rewards to the faithful. Almost an Elyssian type paradise. Of course, the brutality would continue, and those who oppose his reign are to be hunted down and converted or destroyed, but the followers will be so happy and content that they believe these holdouts will want to come over to their side. Sounds unbelievable, but true.

But she claims that they can be defeated because they are arrogant and believe they can overcome God. And also because a lot of them really don't like all of the abuse they're doing and can be persuaded to leave by telling them that they don't have to hurt people anymore.

In part eight, she claims that another name for the New World Order is "the Fourth Reich." So basically she's proposing that everyone who isn't a conservative Christian is secretly a Nazi, or might as well be.

Bluhhhhhhh.

Anyway we're finally getting to the more entertaining bits of this e-book - the demonic shapeshifting. Hang in there, it's coming next post.

[randomvarious]

Hyper-Go-Go - "High" Some of These Were Hooj… Song released in 1992. Compilation released in 1993. House

Plays: 3.5M+ on Spotify // 1M+ on YouTube

Classic, yet somewhat polarizing UK house track here from the Colchester, England-based duo Hyper Go Go, who managed to successfully break out and cross over onto the UK pop charts with this one all the way back in 1992. Some of the more purist types thought that this tune was too cheesed-out and basic to be enjoyed, and I definitely see where they were coming from, but this still ended up being a legendary record that would go on to set up powerhouse UK dance label Hooj Choons for a whole lot more success in the near future, with a pretty infectious string of light, bouncy, and blissful tracks that more or less took some of the best parts of Eurodance and eliminated some of its most embarrassing excesses and god-awful rapping.

So Hyper-Go-Go started when a pair of guys named Alex Bell and James Diplock met at school and decided to make music together. They debuted in 1990 with This Is Go Go, a 12-inch on German label CBS Dance Pool, and then launched their own tiny label the following year, Zap Communications, in order to release more of their own music.

Now, the way that the rest of this story appears to usually be told is that they then landed on Hooj, put out "High" in '92, and then it was picked up by much bigger label Deconstruction, who, prior to this, were probably best known for releasing a bunch of material by world-famous Italo-house project Black Box—the group that gave us commercial dance smashes such as "Ride On Time," "Everybody, Everybody," and "Strike It Up." And then "High" reached #30 in the UK.

But this narrative actually appears to be missing one crucial step, because before getting on Hooj, another label that Hyper Go Go released music on was Ocean Record. And it was on Ocean that they seemed to have quietly operated under a handful of other aliases too, including Metroid.

So before "High" was released on Hooj in '92, it looks like the song actually appeared on a Metroid 12-inch called Digital NRG that same year, sitting as the third and final track on that record's A-side. And what's kinda funny about this particular fact is that Hooj themselves don't seem to have ever been aware of it, and still weren't in 2021, when they made their "High" 12-inch digitally available, and left this in the writeup on its Bandcamp page:

…' High' was one of those demos that turned up and you listened to it, and just had to double - treble check that it hadn't already been released, that it wasn't already out there doing what it was so obviously destined to do.

So I guess they should've quadruple-checked then, because while the tune was obscure when they received the demo and it hadn't carved out any legacy for itself yet, it looks like it'd already definitely been released! 😅

But anyway, this song may have rubbed some of the serious dance music lifers the wrong way when it first came out, but I still think that it's a bit of a super catchy and quality, carefree bop. If you especially love late 80s-to-early 90s house anthems that lead the way with uplifting piano riffs, then this was one of the most iconic jams to do so. Pair that piano with a breakbeat, sample the lyric off of a track by commercially successful UK group The Beloved, and then briefly roll your own damn tune into a sudden minute-long throwback to *the piano track of piano tracks* in Rhythim Is Rhythim's "Strings of Life," and you kinda have something with a whole lot of mass appeal on your hands.

A tune that ended up representing the start of something briefly big for Hyper Go Go themselves, who'd follow this one with another entry into the UK charts in '93 with "Never Let Go" on the just-opened Positiva label. And good thing that they submitted a demo of "High" to Hooj Choons even though they'd seemed to have already released the song as Metroid, because if they hadn't, who knows if Hooj Choons then goes on to unleash a full torrent of absolute 90s house bangers afterwards? 🤔

[pendragon-writes]

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒮𝒶𝒻𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓌

Bruce Banner x Son!Teen!Reader

Requested: Yes

TW: Being held hostage, Typical MCU violence, anxiety, guns, threats, hospitals

When your dad was being recruited to the Avengers initiative you were only 10. Now, most people would assume a little wouldn't understand why a lady with red hair and a man wearing an eyepatch had to do with their parental figure but you knew very well why they were here. Being the son of the great scientist and the 'Other guy' as your dad referred to him meant you were always on the run, but being able to read other intentions no matter what they said helped you figure out that they not only wanted to use his brains for the good of humanity but also his brawn from the 'Other guy'.

But it was safe to say that after much persuasion you managed to get him to join and bring you to their headquarters. As the years passed both you and your dad found a new family in what one of the members liked to call "Super Secret Boy Band" which didn't become that much of a secret once news spread of a team of earth defenders but hey it was alright.

Of course, this new responsibility came with a lot of anxiety when it came involving the "Other guy". Your dad was terrified of him possibly hurting you and you tried to reassure him time and time again that you would be fine and alright. Even though you've only met the 'Other Guy' two times now both encounters resulted in you not being injured by him.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

What you thought was going to be an average Friday of you having the place to yourself and the rest of the team going on a mission you instead were held hostage by one of the hydra soldiers back at the tower. "Talk Gör and I'll shoot your other leg you understand!?" The masked man spoke. You shook your head up and down, anxiety was rushing over you and the blood was draining out. While what you thought would be an average Friday of doing some projects you were captured by one of the soldiers and that definitely wasn't what most people would consider an average Friday.

The masked man started talking into a walkie-talkie in what you assumed to be german. His heavy accent carried on out into the halls, as you tried your best to not pass out you turned your head to see the same man get crashed into the wall by a giant green figure. More men busted in and tried shooting it but it was no use as they all came crashing down. After all of the masked men were unconscious the green giant walked up to you and gently moved his way. This slightly shocked you but then again with the encounters you've had it wasn't a shock.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

The Hulk gently picked you up and brought you to central park where it was surprisingly abandoned. As he put you back down a team of shield medics rushed to you but before they reached you anything you did the hypnosis trick that Natasha taught you. "The sun's getting real low" you repeated from memory, putting your small palm against his larger one. Soon enough your dad returned to his normal state and immediately hugged you. "Are you okay kid?! Wait of course you're not okay your bleeding. I need a med team stat my son is bleeding!" He shouted. The rest of the team returned to you being brought into the emergency car and Bruce hopping in with an oversized hoodie.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

After a few hours, you woke up to your dad sleeping to your right with his hand on top of yours and laying his head next to your good leg. Gently, you tapped his arm and woke him up. "You're awake," He commented. "So are you," you replied, smiling a bit. "You know, I thought the other guy would hurt you but I'm glad I was wrong," He said as he hugged you. "Well there's nothing to worry about dad I'm safe" You reciprocated the hug, and you let yourself sink into the feeling of warmth and safety, finally you felt safe after that awful event.

[katelynnwrites]

Not a request but I thought I’d show you a little of the writing I worked on yesterday. I need your opinions 🙃

I bumped into her completely by accident as I got up from the table I was working at spilling coffee all over the most beautiful woman ever. Ignoring that the hot coffee had spilled on me too I immediately hold my hands up to apologize. “I’m so so sorry Miss, I wasn’t paying attention, I had my back turned, I’ll buy you a new one.” She waves it off and looks at me.

“No worries, did I get your laptop wet?”She asks worried.

“Syd come on we’re going to be late for madame Labay,” one of the girls asked in German.

Madame Labay… the fortune teller that was in town? Huh wouldn’t peg this woman as the fortune telling type but who am I to judge when I went to see Madame Labay just last week.

The woman excused herself from the conversation while apologizing as she left with her friends.

When you go to Madame Labay you have to be desperate like the universe is against you every step of the way. She’ll help you find what you’re looking for.

While Sydney is at Madame Labay she finds that she’s already bumped into the person she was meant to meet that would be the missing piece to her puzzle. Something about coffee being spilled, fan at a game, and mysterious were all that Madame Labay could see for the missing piece. Happiness, calm, and success we’re all Labay could see for her future.

Sydney’s friends being in the room with her think back to the latest interaction and Sydney clearly having the same thought wants to find this mysterious coffee shop woman before it’s too late. Klara and Lea are already running with Lina calling Glodis, Georgia and Giulia in hopes they cand distract the person so she doesn’t leave.

Helga and myself were just packing up when one of the three women that had come in as a group but stayed behind came up to the table.

“Hi I like your shirt where’d you get it,” one of them asks. I had seen her before but I couldn’t remember where. Of course though she wasn’t talking to me, I was an acquired taste and definitely nothing like the woman standing at our table look wise. Helga had no problem answering so per usual I tuned out their conversation. That only worked for 60 seconds until another woman came to the table and asked me a question that caught me completely off guard.

“Sorry not to be rude but are you taken,” the other one asked she spoke English which helped me a lot.

“Um,” I glance at Helga she’s usually the one who manages to get me out of these types of conversations but of course she was distracted and I was on my own. “Um, yes.”

The next 30 minutes were the longest 30 minutes of my life as the five of us had a conversation. Finally Helga and I are able to leave and as we’re leaving I remember where I had seen all of the women before.

“Hey Sydney you have a fun run,” I ask looking at the out of breathe woman I had bumped into earlier and seen play a few weeks before.

She looks at me with confusion and then to the three women behind Helga and I.

“Find what you were looking for?” I ask staring straight at her. Looking back and forth between the three women and myself I could tell she was nervous almost a little scared. How odd usually it’s the other way around. Am I…am I someone’s problem now. As a smirk creeps onto my face I hide it just enough so Syd can’t see it.

“Yeah but,” she trails off looking over my shoulder.

“But you’re afraid of what it is you found? Or maybe it’s you think you missed something,” I ask knowing she was looking at my coworker. I had literally just told Helga we would have a date it’s what we always called our meetings when working on projects it was the one thing that got us through the day. It is possible that she overheard the date part.

“Or maybe you’re afraid of the unknown that comes with having found the thing you were looking for?” Having been in her position one too many times I thought it would be nice to see myself as the one with a little more power.

She looks at me with this sudden curiosity like I had just read her mind. She’s really looking at me at i almost feel vulnerable but I refuse to be the vulnerable one today. Helga thankfully breaks the silent stare between us.

“Hey that was Fredrick he said he’ll be at work tomorrow as well with Steph so it’ll be a double work date,” Helga says hanging up her phone.

Sydney’s entire expression changes from the pained one earlier to sudden relief.

Leaning in close to her ear I whisper, “looks like you don’t have to be afraid of the unknown, huh?” Watching as her body tenses i know for sure she was worried about me and Helga.

“Sydney may I ask you on a date?”

“How did you know?” She whispers in disbelief.

With a smirk I ask her for her phone and put in my number and let her take a picture. She texts me immediately after and I snap the most perfect shot of her. “I’m usually off of work by 18 o’clock so I’m usually free every night just text me when you’re free and we can set up a date.”

ooh interesting, can't wait to see what else you have been working on

[themeaningofitall]

08/13/2023

Today marks six weeks since I left home, and also six weeks since I have sat down behind this computer and written. This has certainly not been due to a lack of ideas, considering there have been plenty of moments that I have thought of writing about. Although the trip has hardly been packed with excitement, there have been a number of exciting days and moments. Further, for multiple reasons, this trip will be memorable, so I’d like to record it and remember it well. 

First to be discussed was my trip. This was actually fairly uneventful. In total, I drove for about 19 hours over the course of two days, which made it completely manageable. The drive itself was also about as pleasant as a 19 hour drive can be, as I crossed through a number of small towns, Native American Reservations, old route 66, and plenty of dessert to get to my destination; I even saw a (relatively small) wildfire on my way in. Upon arrival I was greeted by my host, a kind older German woman named Christine, and we drove together to her farm.

My first night here was certainly not what I was used to back home, but it was far from anything uncomfortable. We first walked around the property, where she showed me all her various plants, trees, and adobe structures she’s built previously. She then showed me to a camper on the corner of the farm where I would be staying for the time being, I set a couple of bags in there, and we headed inside to talk. That first evening was spent primarily getting to know each other; we told a few stories, had a bite to eat, and even cracked open an IPA. Afterwards, she gave me a quick lecture, which I have still not forgotten, about the potential dangers from wildlife. There are mountain lions and bobcats in the area, and we occasionally see coyotes in the property, but neither pose any real threat to people. There are also snakes and scorpions which are much more worrisome, although most species are not venomous. Finally, there are spiders, which are the worst of all. Only two species of spider here are venomous, Black Widows and Brown Recluses, but all species are deserving of death and extinction. After that, I returned to my camper and spent my first night in this new state.

My first few days here were also quite uneventful. Though there is much work to be done on this farm, Christine was very accommodating and wanted me to work on the sorts of things which interested me the most. So, after a few days of getting to know her, the property, and the type of work to be done, we decided to build a shed out of lumber and a cob-lime mix. Unfortunately, we did very limited work towards this during the first month or so of my stay, as I made the super tactical move of arriving just as the heat wave was commencing. Not deterred, we found random small tasks to do inside the house and the garage, or else we’d work a few hours in the morning and evening. This went on for nearly a month, but it has passed, and I seriously doubt we’ll see that sort of heat again until next summer. And once this heat wave did pass, work on the shed went by much faster. We are now almost done framing the entire thing, and will soon commence the adobe work. I’m excited to see this project advance, and though I will probably not see it completed, it will definitely be rewarding to see my work add up to something substantial and useful. I’ll also do my best to share some before and after pictures in case anyone is interested.

There is one night which I feel I must mention. It was my fifth or sixth night here, work had been finished for the day, and I headed inside to shower; so far, so good. I first went inside the camper to grab a few things, and, by pure coincidence, I happened to see a black spider sitting on its web near one of my bags. Reluctantly, I killed it and headed for my awaiting shower. Once there, I turned the light on, as one does, and I noticed what is without a shadow of a doubt one of the biggest spiders I’ve ever seen outside of a glass cage. Once more, I summoned every ounce of willpower I could muster and blasted the creature with a sandal slap powerful enough to kill a god. Having finished the deed, I finally step in to take my well deserved shower and notice something move at my feet. I then crouched down to take a closer look, and lo and behold it’s a bloody scorpion. Yes, it was very small, but at this point I hardly cared anymore. I finished my shower, grabbed a bug bomb from the garage, and set it off inside the camper, as that seemed the only way, short of a bottle of whiskey, that I could reasonably fall asleep without much worry. This worked out fine for about two more weeks, until it inevitably happened again. I walked into the camper, late at night, and with only my phone flashlight to see. As I’m getting ready for bed, I reached for a lamp sitting behind my pillow, and as I did so my hand went straight through a spider web, disturbing the very much alive spider sleeping there. The fiend touched my hand, causing a nearly incalculable acceleration backwards. It was then, in this moment of fear and hesitation that I realized a fundamental, unwavering truth about myself. That is, that there exists no confined space big enough for myself and a live, roaming spider; in each such case, at least one of us must die. As I stood there, panting and furiously waving my flashlight around, I was overcome with a murderous rage that would have made Hannibal seem tame by comparison. I searched for a weapon, then for my adversary, I spoke some words which should not be typed, and I sent him to the shadow realm. Henceforth, any spider I see will be assumed to be a comrade of the one who ambushed my sleeping quarters, and be treated accordingly. After that little incident, I set up my tent just outside the camper, and I continue sleeping there to this day. 

I would also like to mention the few people I’ve met during my time here. This will be quick as there are only three. First was Penny. She’s one of Christine’s friends, a retired single woman who lives by herself on a nearby lot. I don’t have much to say about her, other than she is kind, laid back, and likes to smoke weed. In fact, the third sentence I heard her say, after greeting Christine and I, was “I’m hella stoned.” Then there is Jason. Also one of Christine’s friends and a retired carpenter. He was here to share some advice with us on building the shed, and stayed for a beer afterwards. We had a nice conversation where he shared some of his stories, and I some of mine. Ultimately, he came off as someone who was content with life, quite intelligent, respectful, and even funny at times. Finally, there was Melinda. She was also a volunteer who joined us for about three weeks. She was an interesting personality to be around; Prone to random fits of laughter, impulsivity, some rather unsafe working methods, nonsensical occurrences, and believing most of what she heard provided the person saying it claimed to know what they were talking about. Despite that, she was most often fun to be around and we even made the time to go on two outings to the lake. 

Initially I, of course, had some doubts about whether leaving my house, my job, family, etc. for a volunteer program was a good idea, but I can now say with confidence that it was. It is generally fun or entertaining, I’m learning much, and I have not been this stress free in quite some time. I truly did not realize just how simple and easy it could be to change my life so drastically for the better. If anything, I feel a bit disappointed that I have not taken more advantage of my new opportunities. The change in setting gave me the opportunities to focus more on my health, both physical and mental, on my formal studies, and on my personal studies and writing projects, yet I have worked very little towards any of those. I am making some progress though, however slight; it’s taken a few weeks, and will presumably take even longer, to shake some of my bad habits. 

Like I mentioned earlier, I have been meaning to write for weeks, but have put it off each time for one reason or another. The catalyst that finally made me decide to sit down and type was a simple dinnertime exchange. Christine and I had cooked our dinner quite a bit late into the night, both of us were tired, and neither of us fully sober. So, as one can imagine, we burnt some portions a good deal. We talked as we absentmindedly ate, when she turned to me and said “This is a good meal!” “Yes, it is.” I agreed, without actually thinking about it. I then thought about it for a moment and realized I hadn’t lied, it actually was a good meal. To be sure, it was far from the best, but I most certainly enjoyed cooking and eating with a friend; years have passed since the last time I did so. 

It’s now Monday morning. I felt too tired to finish writing last night and instead laid in my tent for a while before sleeping, listening to music, and gazing at the stars with absolutely no stress in mind. This morning I awoke just as the sun began to peer over the mountains, resumed my music, had a smoke, and watched the quail babies run behind their parents. Thus begins another good day. 

-Rose

P.S. This is rocket.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 15: So long, Praha!

Dobrý den,

I have so many mixed emotions about my time here coming to an end. As busy as I was throughout the semester I truly believe I did a good job immersing myself in Czech daily life and culture and I'm proud of that. I definitely want to come back, just without the responsibilities that come with being a student 😅. 

We had our challenge project presentation panel, followed by our final ceremony signaling the end of the program. The company really liked our work and appreciated the extra time I put into compiling the document with action items for their tech team. 

Now all that’s left is cleaning up the common areas of the apartment, which I unfortunately had to do alone before Isy (a Czech peer) came and helped me. She’s an angel. 

Enjoy the views along the walk home from school and from my room for one last time with me.

Final Reflection

As I sit in the airport and reflect on my experiences, I’m overwhelmed by feelings of gratitude for the people I’ve met and all the unique experiences I had, in Prague and beyond. To better convey these thoughts, let me share with you a brief story that I feel encompasses my biggest takeaways from this semester abroad.

When I was solo traveling in Italy, I stopped in Milan for a night and decided to hang out at the bar of the hostel I was staying at before heading to dinner. A man who looked to be in his late 20s sat down next to me and we started chatting. He introduced himself as Dennis, a civil engineer from the Netherlands, who has been traveling throughout Italy chasing the recommendations of locals he'd met along the way. I sat and listened to his stories, admiring his ability to arrive in a new country without plans, developing an itinerary en route. After all, locals know best.

I was also surprised by his ability to take so much time off of work for travel. In the Netherlands, like many other countries in the EU, it's customary to have 6-7 weeks of paid vacation time each year. I was shocked. In America, there is no federal requirement for paid time off. In fact, many Americans don’t even use all their PTO, in fear that in taking time off they’ll fall behind on their work or hinder their career growth. We fell into this conversation in class a few weeks ago, and it enlightened me about all the workplace perceptions and expectations that don’t apply outside of the US. While the US is incredibly progressive in terms of fostering diversity in technical roles and schooling, the hustle culture is exhausting and counteractive to quality of life, balance, and even productivity. Not to mention the extreme costs associated with healthcare and having children, and the lack of maternity leave or protection. I feel privileged to have obtained this knowledge while studying abroad that I wouldn't have considered, or even fathomed, when thinking about working abroad post-college.

After an hour had passed, another woman in her early 20s joined our conversation. Polina’s a linguist, originally from Belarus, but has been living in Warsaw for the past decade. We bonded over staple TV shows of our childhoods, including ICarly, Victorious, and Drake & Josh, which fostered remarkably shared experiences despite growing up on opposite sides of the world. Soon after, we were joined by two more men, also engineers, in their 30s: an Italian named Marco and a German named Tim. We sat and talked in our group of five until the early morning hours. I learned more about cross-cultural communication and international living than I ever imagined I would in my time abroad.

On the next round of drinks, I’d been craving a coffee and put in an order for a cappuccino. I received unexpectedly strong opposition instead… It turns out ordering coffee after 11am is completely taboo in Italy. The bartender, with a mixture of amusement and adherence to custom, refused my request but compromised by serving me a shot of espresso: a subtle push to respect local customs and embrace cultural peculiarities.

When chatting a bit deeper with my new friends, it dawned on me how much power language held. There I was, a two-language speaker surrounded by people who spoke 4, if not 5, or more languages. Polina, the linguist of the group, educated us about languages and their roots, including Italic, Slavic, and Germanic. As solo travelers, we all shared an understanding of the power of communication when traveling; without English as a universal language, none of us would’ve been able to connect.

We got to talking about the aspects of our homelands we were proud of. Polina, with her roots in Belarus and Poland, praised the genuine, no-BS attitude of her people. Tim, with a more somber pride, mentioned Germany’s dedication to a conscious and cultured society after a dark historical chapter. Dennis talked up the networking and opportunity in the Netherlands, and recounted the legacy of the Dutch being the only Europeans to be allowed to trade with China and Japan in earlier days. I mentioned the diversity of the US, and how I’ve had the opportunity to grow up with friends from many different ethnic and religious backgrounds. And finally, Marco spoke about the Italian way of celebrating daily life and finding beauty in every situation. I knew this to be true, as just this afternoon I ran into a mall during a downpour of rain to discover tens of pairs dancing around a small speaker. I witnessed two teens, one teaching the other how to dance, then turned my gaze to a young woman joining an older gentleman dancing solo. Soon enough, everyone joined in on the camaraderie. 

Reflecting on these experiences, I recognize the profundity in this seemingly small conversation and the depth each of us brought to it through shared laughter, memories, and time. That's the essence of my journey abroad, embracing authenticity and connection.

Czeching out,

Reese Liebman

Computer Science and Engineering

Institute for Study Abroad (IFSA) CS Tech Career Accelerator in Prague, Czechia

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 19

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

The episode where Bond assists Twilight with his mission at the laboratory may not seem like a significant story, but it's actually the first time Twilight has spent a considerable amount of time alone with someone (Bond) with whom he doesn't have to put on any airs – not as Loid Forger, nor as an aloof spy. He has no reason to hide anything from Bond, someone who can't talk or judge. So who is the man revealed in such a rare situation? While at first he's annoyed that Bond's presence could hinder his mission, his annoyance soon turns to empathy. With an uncharacteristically concerned look on his face, he asks Bond if he came to get revenge on the scientists who hurt him and his friends.

We saw in the doggy crisis arc that Twilight has compassion for dogs when he refused to harm the German shepherd that attacked him, and when he gave sincere thanks to Bond for saving Anya. But this episode shows further proof that Twilight sees Bond as more than just "a dog." Not only does he show empathy for what Bond had to suffer through in the past, but he's projecting the very human notion of vengeance onto a dog. He also chooses to trust Bond's instincts rather than send him away…and as a result, his mission is a success! As we'll see in later episodes, his bond with Bond (no pun intended) will only continue to grow.

Unfortunately the same can't be said for Bond's bond with Yor (though it's a totally one-sided thing). We as the audience know that Yor would never act violently towards Bond, but thanks to his misinterpretation of his vision of blackness (which Endo confirms in the fanbook did not mean death), he thinks her food will indeed kill him.

As @piracytheorist pointed out, Bond may not understand that Yor's toxic food is completely unintentional. Since he was traumatized by his time at the lab, where they fed him rancid food, he may equate being fed bad food to some kind of punishment. Plus, being a dog, he may not understand that humans' actions don't necessarily reflect their true intent (misinterpreting the actions of others is such a common theme in Spy x Family, I can even tie it back to Bond!) Doesn't help that Anya put the idea in his head that Yor will kill him if he disobeys her.

It's unfortunate, but at least Yor is oblivious to the fact that Bond thinks this way about her. I know she would feel awful if she knew he was scared of her!

After the "Pastry of Knowledge" incident at Eden, Twilight is again faced with more failing test grades from Anya. But this time, he's more composed about it, even noting that she would have done well on the classical language part had she not made so many spelling mistakes.

@sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan brings up a good point in this post that it's unusual for the ever-suspicious Twilight to dismiss the fact that Anya is knowledgeable about an archaic language of all things. But as we've seen time and time again, he's more likely to turn a blind eye to anything suspicious about Yor, Anya, and Bond compared to anyone else.

This suggests that, though he won't admit it, he could possibly be afraid…afraid that if he digs too deep, he'll learn things about them that could lead to them having to separate. The only exception to this so far has been when he investigated Yor after Yuri's first visit, which is understandable since having an SSS officer so close to him could be disastrous (and of course, he felt guilty about it after).

But in Anya's case here, he not only decides that's it not worth thinking about, he even cooks her favorite dinner that night (hamburger steak) without any complaints. Compared to the very first time he was confronted with her poor school skills, he's definitely learning to be a more understanding father (and a less meticulous spy).

Some time later, Yor meets up with Franky to help him rescue a lost cat. This is probably the first time the two of them have been alone together without Loid present, so Yor feels a bit uneasy about this unexpected social interaction. In typical Yor fashion, she expresses concern for the cat and is eager to help, but also thinks she may be more of a bother to Franky. She also hesitates when referring to Loid as her husband. As I've mentioned in previous posts, at this point in the series, I believe she has a crush on Loid but is clueless about those feelings, so she gets flustered whenever their relationship is brought up.

I find it funny how Yor with all her crazy strength and assassin skills is totally powerless against cats clinging to her! Obviously her power is strictly reserved for the "bad guys" she's sent to eliminate on her jobs (or anyone who threatens her loved ones). Innocent animals are safe, even if they scratch her face a bit!

As Franky comes up with ways to catch Kopi, Yor gives him her full supportive side by continuously praising him for his inventions. However, she has no hesitation about sacrificing said inventions to prevent Kopi from running into traffic.

It not only makes sense that she'd be ignorant about how much work goes into building such a machine, but it also makes sense that she holds nothing back when trying to save someone who's in trouble, even if all notions of acting "normal" go out the window – whether it's this cat, the Eden cow, or confronting SSS officers that threatened her family.

As a side note, another example of Yor's wholesome, humbling personality that's only present in the Japanese version, is that she gives the honorific "-san," which denotes respect, usually translated as "Mister" or "Miss," to everyone (besides Yuri, but that's normal for an older sibling). Not just children like Anya, but even animals. She calls Bond "Bond-san," and in this episode, she calls Kopi "Kopi-san." She even called the terrorists from the doggy crisis arc "terrorist-san."

In fact, Yor uses keigo (the polite form of Japanese speech) excessively, almost to an abnormal amount. This could be a reflection of many things about her character, such as her low self-esteem, eagerness to put those around her at ease, and the possibility that Garden instilled the idea in her that she's just a "soldier" for her country, so she never gave a thought about fulfilling her own identity. However, as I'll discuss later, there are some rare and telling moments where she drops this filter and lets her raw feelings out.

When Yor returns to work later, we see that being "normal" is something she's still hung up about, since she gets very excited when Sharon suggests that she may have finally become "somewhat" so. This scene also shows how good she feels after helping someone out, which carries over to her meeting with Shopkeeper soon after.

Speaking of which, we once again see Yor's naivety about her assassin job that I discussed in Part 13: she thinks of it as just getting rid of "evildoers." But despite her strong desire for this, I never got the impression that she likes being an assassin, as in, she enjoys the act of killing people. Compared to a typical view one would have of someone who willingly kills for a living, she doesn't relish in her murders, taunt her opponents, or display any kind of pleasure from their pain. As we'll see throughout the cruise arc, she's very professional about it, being indiscriminate and earnest with her targets. She kills solely for the sake of others, whether it's to help her family or her country. What she desires is the result of the work – eliminating "bad guys," not the actual act of elimination.

The scene where Shopkeeper launches a surprise attack at Yor, only for her to easily dodge it, reminds me of the fact that Yor is sometimes described as "clumsy," but she's definitely not clumsy on the physical side.

Usually characters in anime/manga who are shown to have traits similar to Yor, like exaggerated naivety and a low sense of self-worth, are also shown to be clumsy in the typical sense of dropping things, tripping, and making messes. But, while Yor has tasks she's not good at, like cooking and sewing, and she occasionally has trouble controlling her incredible strength, she's definitely not clumsy. I'm really glad that Endo didn't give her the "clumsy" trait to go along with her social awkwardness, as it would make no sense for a highly skilled assassin to not be anything but perfectly coordinated with their body. We see many examples of this with Yor, not just in how she overpowers every opponent she encounters, but smaller things, like in her introduction episode where she catches the tray with her foot, and how she swiftly leaps and clings to the ceiling at the pet adoption fair without anyone noticing.

Continue to Part 20 ->

<- Return to Part 18

[painterofhorizons]

Spiegelbilder Introductory Post

While I’m thinking about switching to English with writing my main Criminal Minds fanfic (that las, like, zero to do with Criminal Minds) and people have vaguely expressed interest in reading about it if I should ever switch to English, I thought to make some kind of introductory/summary post about the story. Putting it under a cut because this won’t be short. Like, It will be long and full of rambling. Lots of rambling.

@guileandgall @chyrstis @jedirangerpenguin and also tagging my old CM crew to see if you’re up to switch languages with me? @sheeplessthings @thornhands @calendergirlff

This got too long for me to proof-read, it’s 2 am and I should really go to bed. xD My keyboard is stupid at times, so please excuse any missing letters or words. You should get an overall idea nevertheless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fandom (technically): Criminal Minds

Do you actually need to know the series: no (see below)

Language so far: German

Link to story on fanfiktion.de

Length so far: 200k+

Rating: mature - reasons see below: topics discussed

Mode of storytelling: collection of oneshots and multishots (up to 4part mini-stories) that can all be read independently but all revolve around the same characters

Why/how it all started: It started out in somewhen between 2011-2014 as a classic CM case fic. I created an OC and a case, and 20 chapters in I realized: a) I hate writing crime cases and b) I suck at chronologic storytelling and c) I was stuck. So I started all over twice and eventually switched to writing oneshots about the characters in 2015. In 2017 I put them all in a collection and by now we’re at 62 chapters *coughcough*. And I realized: simply writing about single topics for the characters I care about without having to press it into one long multichapter fic with one main storyline? Fits me so much better and is so much more fun for me. Actually, please blame @tarysande, because in the forums of ff.de I stumbled upon a fic rec from someone for her Grace Shepard fics and I had just started playing ME at that time and so I learned about AO3 (and tumblr) and Tara had these alphabet fics and other small story collections and I had one of these important moments: whao, that’s a thing? That’s something you can do? Just write small stuff about a single topic/from a prompt and not only focus on one big long story? So yeah, that was a huge inspiration for me to just say fuck the multichapter fic writing that I don’t work well with and instead make it a collection of small stuff.

Having cut out the “write one big case fic” and focus it on the things I actually want to tell, it drifted away A LOT from actually being a Criminal Minds fic. Basically all that is left from CM is a few characters (one minor and some minor), a handful of references and one low key case reference storyline. So do you actually need to know anything about CM to read the Spiegelbilder fics? No. As long as I’ll introduce you to the main characters and throw in some screenshots maybe and one or another youtube video, you’re good to go. Because what I love about CM are the team scenes, the characters, but especially in the second half of the series they didn’t focus a lot on the actual team banter and the cases became more and more gory and ugh, so I enjoyed the actual series less and less, but still very much care for the team/characters. But the series hasn’t gifted us with a lot of that. So Spiegelbilder is like an CM AU without all the gory case fic stuff.

While we’re at that...

What topics does Spiegelbilder touch?: A lot of dark/heavy stuff, tbh. (For those of you who know my ME stuff - that won’t be a huge surprise I assume.) But not in the gory CM case way. Still, Spiegelbilder is rated mature/P-18 for reasons. I write about abuse, rape, suicide/-al tendencies. I also write about a huge lot of other rather dark/serious matters (life decisions, me too topics, broken family dynamics and other). There’s a lot of psychological topics touched, and definitely a huge lot of PTSD. But I write about it all in a very not-explicit, sensitive, thoughtful way (my old CM crew can agree on that). I write about it not for sensationalist reasons (I’m looking at you, CM >.>), but because it is part of life and part of the characters I created. I know a lot of people don’t like stories that touch rape as a topic, and that is totally okay. And I will never write about acts of violence themselves, but only mention them and then focus on the psychological aftermath. Also, Spiegelbilder definitely is rated M for smut. Also there are both hetero and same sex relationships and polyamory. There’s a lot of queer in it.

But is there any good stuff?: Yeeees! :D A whole lot. So, what is Spiegelbilder actually about? It’s a story of two idiots being in love but denying it for too long. It’s about two idiots going from random onenigtstand to becoming friends to friends-with-benefits to lovers to married idiots. It’s a whole lot of itiots to lovers slow burn. There’s so much emotions but they are very much idiots first. Did I mention they end up married? And happy? They are also happy in between. But they got a lot of difficulties to overcome that life throws their way.

So who are those two idiots?: Spiegelbilder centers around Alex Dancy (OC) and David Rossi (Criminal Minds). With this, the story also deals with age differences in relationships, because there are roughly 2 decades between them. For the main storyline, Alex is in her 30′s and Dave in his 50′s. And I realized: Alex and Reda Shepard share quite some, if not all character traits. So if you can stand Reda? Chances are good that you can stand Alex, too. She, too, is a ray of sunshine. :D (No, actually she is, it just depends to whom.)

(art by the most wonderful @xandrassketchbook who is not on tumblr anymore unfortunately)

Are there more?: Oh boy, there are. :D Actually, Spiegelbilder by now has sereval main storylines with so many characters. Those are:

The Russian Era

Covers Alex’ youth and upbringing. Put in short: while she’s bron to an american father and russian mother in New York, the family moved to Russia for family matters when Alex was two. Her older sister died in a car accident when Alex is 14 and the family can’t deal with the loss. Father leaves, Alex is much of a trouble child, mother kicks her out for it and focuses in the smaller twins instead. Alex gets taken in by a social worker (Yuri) into a youth club/shelter. This strand of the story focusses on that time.

The London Era

Not much written about yet, but covers Alex’ 20′s. She moves to London after school to study social work and get away of her past. She then works as a street worker for youth mostly. She lives in a happy little hippie commune there and has a long time girlfriend there. In her mid twenties, she runs into Dave Rossi (CM) while he is on a book reading tour (that’s quite a fun story tbh). They end up in a one night stand and think they never meet again - alas, destiny knows better, right? They meet again on a conference for social work where Dave is meant to recruit new folks for the BAU (behavioral analysis unit from the FBI). Alex is in a state of things be quite difficult at that time both work wise (major funding cutting in Londons social work area) and personally (relationship with girlfriend suffers a lot from Alex being work first everything else second). Over a discussion about the BAU’s work (that Alex does not support a lot) Dave tells her that the FBI at that time (early 2000′s) is founding a new unit that focusses on the victims of crimes rather (the VAU - victims assistance unit) (all real units, time frame is even halfway correct and fitting). Alex pllies for that and gets in.

The VAU Era / BACA

Alex moves to the states and helps building the VAU and works there as a social worker. Because she does miss her street work with youth, she also volunteers in BACA (major plot line). BACA is Bikers Against Child Abuse, a biker organisation that tries to empower mentally/physically/sexually/otherwise abused children and teens (amazong organization, please check them out!). Alex becomes part of the local BACA chapter and spends like all of her non work time there. - By now there is a whole set of characters I wrote for that - while BACA exists, the chapter I write about is made up as are all characters.

The Boston Era

For roughly three years, Alex (still FBI agent as part of the VAU) is assigned to an undercover job in Boston. Basically, she works as a social worker there, too, but infiltrates a ecological activism group (that doesn’t quite fall into the eco terror range) to get intel. It isn’t meant to be this long lasting but ends up taking up almost three years.

After that, she goes back to the VAU to Washington again.

(art by me)

The BAU Era

In Criminal Minds, one of the major characters dies at some point and Alex takes her job for a while. Yes, this is obviously the very inital story idea from very early on (aka how do I include an OC into the CM story?). Anyways, I never focus on the actual BAU work (because, see above, I neither like it nor am good at case writing). But, one aspect that gets important is Grant Anderson (CM side character, agent that sometimes works with the BAU in the series). So the series doesn’t tell us much about Anderson (sorry Mass Effect Anderson for the name similarity, ME Anderson is a gemme, my CM ANderson is not. xD), so my take is: Anderson always wanted to be part of the actual BAU and applied several times, but never made it in. Now he has some issues and Alex is the one who darws the card wrong-time-wrong-place. With her work being her priority - but she always stays a social worker at heart and not an FBI agent, so she never is 200% in FBI, but 250% in being a social worker and also her voluntary work with BACA, Anderson snaps. He starts stalking her and terrorizing her because she is not passionate enough about being in the BAU and also has taken his position. That most to a classic case fic I’m writing here, but less like in an actual CM episode. The whole story goes FUBAR and really fucks Alex up and has her drop out of the job for a while and eventually quite with the FBI completely.

Post-FBI Era

Alex turns back to working as a social worker full time after a long time of recovery of Andersons mind fuckery. She gets back to be her happy self, living happily ever after.

(art by the ever amazing @chenria​)

Meanwhile: The Idiots To Lovers Plot

Remember how Alex and Dave met by pure accident in London when Alex is in her mid-20′s and they have a random onenightstand? After they meet again on that conference a year later, they keep in touch and become friends, especially after Alex moves to the states. They stay friends for a long time and only get involved sexually again couple of months after Alex joins the BAU. So a lot of Spiegelbilder is about how their relationship develops during all the time, from strangers to friends to friends-with-benefits to idiots to lovers to being married and buying a fucking awesome house, adoting a dog and all. Yes. There is chapters about buying a house, adopting a dog, getting married, buying groceries before a vacation - I CAN write fluff if I want to. :D

(art by the most wonderful @chenria​)

The Characters: There is, as you can imagine now, a whole set of characters I created for this, that I really like a lot. A friend once said it’s a shame I put all this into a fanfic (that isn’t so much of a fanfic anymore, right?) because it could as well be a novel - but I like it that way. Spiegelbilder is my feel good playground for years now and I don’t want to put any of it into the real world, I like to keep it in the fanfic closet. Also, Spiegelbilder is my sandbox to think through topics (life decisions, struggling with job decisions, other random or not so random stuff), so that’s that. - I got distracted, sorry. The characters: to give you a shot impression, there is a yet as very much work in progress character page you can see here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Writing all this in english kinda really has me want to write this story in english and explore it with you guys. So if you are interested? Hell, count me in.

(It’s Wednesday here already. :D 2am, I’m going to bed. Thank you for reading all this I guess! xD)

[slttygeto]

buzzfeed puppy interview with toji!

synopsis: just a cute follow up to this <3

warning: none except for some swearing

reblogs are appreciated!!

navigation

toji fushiguro

you had no clue how toji even accepted to be here with you

you knew he loved puppies but he was known to be a rather secretive actor. he only allowed people to know what he wanted them to know.

makes it more fun to drop a bomb on them, like he said once in an interview

"hi buzzfeed! I'm (name)," "and im toji," the contrast in personalities was already fun right off the bat, the little sparkle in your eyes compared to toji's hooded and bored ones eliciting a chuckle from the staff members watching you two.

"and this is the buzzfeed puppy— or was it puppy buzzfeed interview?" you weren't exactly sure but it seemed as if your mishap was very funny so you just went along with it and didn't really bother to correct yourself.

"you drag me here and you don't even know what the name of this interview is?" toji has always been a blunt individual.

you on the other hand? it's not as if you didn't stand up for yourself but you were definitely less... straightforward than the man sitting next to you, his big frame taking up almost half of the space reserved for you and the puppies.

"whatever, you like puppies," you say as you look behind camera, searching for any sign of the energy balls that were going to be sitting on your lap.

"we're going to be answering some of your questions regarding our latest project reckless and some other questions concerning...other stuff i guess?"

toji nodded, clearly eager to see what the papers inside the jar in front of him had in them. he was looking forward to destroying every single question with a mysterious, even more questioning answer. some fans tend to ask the most out of pocket question and he was going to teach them a lesson.

"now get ready for..." toji found the little fake drumming that you did on your lap adorable, a chuckle leaving his laps when he noticed how your face morphed into one of happiness and excitement at the sight of the pretty, small canines.

"puppy invasion!" it really was an invasions considering how the puppies knocked over the jar as soon as they were let loose, smelling the place and getting used to your and toji's smell.

"oh my god look! that one is you!" toji didn't understand what you meant until he grabbed the puppy in his hands, looking at it with an amused look.

it was a black german shepherd, he wasn't particularly excited to held by toji like that but the small lick he gave to toji's nose confirmed that he was just like any other dog : curious.

"I don't lick people like that for sure,"

you bit back a response and toji could feel it with how you stared at him for a few seconds before looking away.

"oh?" toji raised an eyebrow, as if daring you to even say a thing without turning into a flustered mess.

"anyway!," grabbing a piece paper from the jar, you let the golden retriever nestle itself on your lap while you tried to read what was typed.

"one thing you enjoy about the other person on set," you read out loud before staring at toji.

"he can tell when I'm uncomfortable," you admitted, stroking the soft animal's head gently. "i guess that's one of the many things, he will step in and actually stop the shooting if he notices that im uncomfortable, it's gotten him in trouble a few ti-"

"it didn't get me in trouble," toji cut you off with a hand on your head. "she thinks that the staffs being annoyed means that i got yelled at," he said before looking at you.

"i didnt," he was persistent. you were still feeling guilty about that day but you were genuinely very uncomfortable with shooting such a scene, and had begged for the script to be modified. it wasn't until toji paid attention to the way you kept stammering other your words that he decided to step in and save you.

"for her I would say," toji rested his elbow on his knee, his palm supporting his head. he looked at you for a few seconds, the stare and relaxed vibe coming from him making you a lil too nervous.

"everything," he says before looking at the staff members then the camera.

"she remembers stuff about me that I can't remember for shit like my coffee order, my choice of attire when I'm tired? hell she can even tell when I'm annoyed which by the way—!"

you cut him off before he can even try to say anything, "he thinks he looks the same when he's tired and when he's annoyed! no you don't," you bicker back at him and the man almost raises his arms in the air.

"how is it not the same? even i can't tell,"

"it's my talent" you retort back sassily with an invisible hair flip, making the man next to you stare at you with fake disgust.

you better be glad you were cute.

[volturiwolf]

Good Girls Are Bad Girls That Haven't Been Caught - A Quil Ateara x fem!Reader Imagine

That's a small story for Quil who is always overlooked, but we stan all of the wolfpack here (almost)

Based on the song "Good Girls" (previously known as "Good Girls are Bad Girls that haven't been caught") by 5SOS

She's a good girl, she's daddy's favorite

He's saved for Harvard (he knows she'll make it)

She's good at school, she's never truant

She can speak French (I think she's fluent)

Quil’s POV

(Y/N) was the perfect girl. Beautiful, confident, ambitious, probably the best student you could ever come across. She was quiet; she never got into trouble; she was always participating in extracurricular activities, and she always volunteered for every project that was happening around the school, La Push, and Forks.

She was known for being a goody-two-shoes, never going against authorities, never objecting to the teachers. She always arrived 20 minutes before the first bell, just to check her books once again, having small talks with the teachers who all seemed to adore her. She was the easiest person to get around with, always willing to help everyone, whether that was homework, advice, or money.

She was the pride of her family, the golden kid, their future. Her parents were always praising her, and always bragging to others about their daughter’s achievements. Her father wanted her to attend Harvard, being one of the prestigious colleges in the country. (Y/N) could definitely attend Harvard, having achieved perfect scores, and with a rich background in athletics, volunteering, and languages.

Apart from English, (Y/N) could speak German, Italian, Spanish, and Greek, but her favorite language was French, which she spoke fluently. She had an affinity for learning new languages and learning about different cultures. In my eyes, she was the perfect girl for me.

But that meant I could not get close to her. I could only look at her from afar. I was a good student too - probably one of the best around, but (Y/N) was the best among everyone. I had my circles and friendships, but not (Y/N)’s friends or personality. For her being the best student around, she was also extremely sociable and friendly. (Y/N) was a good girl.

Something which shocked me beyond comprehension was when she started hanging out with one of the worst guys around. Damian was probably the worst guy I had ever seen. He was a bully, a gang member, the worst guy you could ever meet. Yet, (Y/N) saw the best in him. She was always hanging around him, laughing and having genuine fun with him. She would tease him all the time, and he would go crazy for her, licking his lips and all. 

I was disgusted; (Y/N) deserved someone better, someone sweet and caring to treat her like the queen she was, not someone who she should have avoided all along. And she wouldn’t see that she didn’t need Damian in her life. They weren’t really a couple, but there was definitely something going on between them, though (Y/N) would always remain the sweet, pure girl she had always been. I just wanted him to leave her alone; he wasn’t a good influence to have around, and I was worried about (Y/N) following his ways. 

'Cause every night, she studies hard in her room

At least that's what her parents assume

But she sneaks out the window to meet with her boyfriend

Here's what she told me, the time that I caught her

She said to me, "Forget what you thought

'Cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught

So just turn around and forget what you saw

'Cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught"

(Y/N) lived a couple of hundred feet away from my own house. (Y/N) would never go out at night; she would never go out on the weekends. She would always spend her nights studying in her room, until late at the night. She would start early in the afternoon, have dinner in between, and then study until 1 or 2 am. (Y/N) was only focused on school, and she was aiming high.

Her parents were worried about her, sleeping late and waking up early, but she would always convince them that she was doing fine and that she had to make a few sacrifices if she wanted to get into a good college. Her parents were satisfied with her attitude, believing their daughter was a good girl who only focused on school. But, that’s what they thought. Because I knew that wasn’t true at all.

I was out late one night, patrolling around the area. I was really tempted to see how (Y/N) was doing. I imagined her focused on her books, studying under her desk lamp, writing and studying her notes, and solving complicated math problems. I couldn’t help myself, so I decided to go by her house, and look at her from afar.

Before I could even come close enough to see her through her window, I heard a small window open, and a few rattles. I hid behind a bush and looked closer, to find out it was (Y/N), leaving the house through her bedroom window. She was all dressed up, makeup on, with a few bracelets and an intoxicating perfume emitting from her body.

She turned around to look at me and then smiled and winked. Everything around me narrowed around her as if she was in the center of my new galaxy. I could not see anything but her; she was the only thing that mattered to me at that moment. It took me a few moments to realize I had imprinted on her.

When I came back from my vision, (Y/) was standing right in front of me, looking at me with worry and curiosity. “Quil? Are you okay? You zoned out for a few minutes and I got worried.” 

“You… You know my name?” 

She chuckled. “Of course I do, Quil. Now tell me, what are you doing here?”

“I…” I had to think about something quickly. “I was out walking. I have terrible insomnia, and walking really helps me sleep at night. Then I heard a small commotion around your house and I thought someone was trying to break in. I got scared, so I hid behind the bush.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry. It was just me.” She quickly took her phone out of her purse and looked at the time. “Oh, I have to go now, or I’ll be running late.”

“Wait! It is quite late. Where are you going?” I sounded, and probably also looked, worried.

“I’m going out with my boyfriend. He’s waiting for me at his house, and then we’ll go out. I don’t know where yet.” She smiled.

I was shocked. “Wait. What? Why are you going out? I thought you would be studying at this time. I… I... I don’t know what to say.” I was clueless and lost. “I thought you were supposed to be a “good girl”, you know?”

She took my hand in hers, and I could swear I felt my heart flying away. “Quil, don’t believe anything you hear. I think you should forget what you thought, ‘cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught. I think I may be one of these girls; being a goody-two-shoes to everyone’s eyes, but a rebel at heart. Please, do me a favor, just turn around and forget what you saw, and maybe, just maybe we could hang out a few times. You seem like a cool guy.” She smiled again and kissed my cheek lightly before walking away.

I could only stand still and watch her mesmerized, as she walked away to meet her lover, who, sadly, wasn’t me. 

She's a good girl, a straight A-student

She's really into all that self-improvement

(I swear she lives in that library)

But if you ask her, she'll say, "That's where you'll find me"

But if you look then you won't find her there

She may be clever, but she just acts too square

'Cause in the back of the room where nobody looks (nobody looks)

She'll be with her boyfriend (she's not reading books)

Another day, another A for (Y/N). Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. All the teachers called her a role model for everyone else, but she insisted that grades do not matter as much as character and personality do. She certainly had both in surplus, but maybe that was just the imprinting talking.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. (Y/N) was too good for me, she was too good for everyone, and, especially, too good for Damian. Yet, she somehow could not spend a moment without him. She was with him on our lunch break, sitting on his lap and cuddling; she was with him during our study break, at the back of the library where nobody could see them, making out and cuddling.

I was so jealous of Damian for being with (Y/N) all the time; for being able to cuddle, touch, and kiss her. I wanted to be with her; to be able to do all these things with her; to show her a world she would have never imagined. I didn’t want to force her into this world, so I decided I wouldn’t tell her anything unless I had to.

The pack was always nagging and pushing me to tell her, but I wouldn’t do it. It had to be with her own conscience and her own will. If she ever felt the same way I feel for her, then she would come to me. I could only wait, hoping that she would see and would come to me. 

She said to me, "Forget what you thought

'Cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught

So just turn around and forget what you saw

'Cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught

Day after day, it became harder to stay away from (Y/N). We would occasionally spend time together at school or be partnered up in projects together, but it wasn’t enough for me. It didn’t feel right to stay away from her, even if I couldn’t get close to her. She was with someone else, and, as long as she was happy, I was happy with her.

And days would go by like this: me wishing (Y/N) was mine, and (Y/N) being with someone else. Though, lately, she seemed sadder and lonelier than before, and I was wondering if Damian did anything to upset her, as she did not spend as much time with him as she did before, at least in front of others. 

I was really curious to know, so when we partnered up one day for a Physics project, I gained enough courage to ask her. “Hey, (Y/N), don’t misunderstand me, but has anything happened between you and Damian? You don’t seem fine lately. Has he done anything to you?

“Quil, I...” Her mouth trembled, and her eyes started watering.

“Hey, hey! You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t feel like saying anything. I’m really sorry for asking.” I tried to sympathize with her, caressing her hand.

“It’s not that. I do want to talk with you. It’s just… Lately, I’ve been feeling some way about someone else, and I couldn’t keep on doing this with Damian anymore. He looks like a scary guy but he’s a good person deep down. I couldn’t stay with him when I was only thinking about a different guy. It wouldn’t be fair to him, or me.”

My heart sunk. Her mind was already in someone else. “Oh, yeah. That was nice of you. So, how are you feeling after the break-up? Are you okay? Do you need some time? We can stop now with the project and you can go home if you’d like that.”

“No, no. I like it here. I like taking my mind off of everything by focusing on homework. I like spending time with you.” She smiled shyly. (Y/N) was never shy. 

Something sparked in me, an unfound confidence, and I leaned in to kiss her on the lips. I thought she would pull away, but after a small shock, she kissed me back harder than I did, and caressed my cheek with her hand. After a few minutes, we pulled away to breathe.

“Just in case you haven’t realized it yet, you are the guy I’ve been constantly thinking about.” She leaned in to kiss me once again, and all I could think about was…

Good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught