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#geneva tower
smindersonfan · 1 year
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Made a meatloaf for a cook-off here at Geneva. Wish me luck.
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travelella · 2 months
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Temple de la Madeleine / Espace Madeleine, Geneva, Switzerland
Ryan Klaus
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tower-of-gay · 2 years
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okay yeah no worst part of tower of god to date is definitely the giant spider woman with 6 breasts who refers to herself as “mommy”
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yrshots · 2 years
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| E N C H A N T I E R . . . 📸 Photo™ by @yr.shots (IG) / #YRShots / @YRShots (FB) ©2022YRShots 🚩 Zone Industrielle du Lignon, Vernier 🕕 Jeudi 28 avril 2022, 15h59 📷 @canonswitzerland EOS 80 D Canon EF-S 18-135mm f/3.5-5.6 IS USM f/16 -- 1/100 -- 56.00mm -- ISO100 🌐 http://yrshots.ch __________________________________________________ #Vernier #villedevernier #lignon #citédulignon #zoneindustrielledulignon #volumes #geometrie #geneve #geneva #zoneindustrielle #industrie #cityscape #landscape #landscapescapture #tours #towers #urban #design #abstract #chantier #dockyard #echaffaudage #construction (à Lignon.Suisse) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdBGvOTIxsA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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hijinxinprogress · 7 months
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Young Justice spends all of their time violating the Geneva conventions or mocking their mentors bc they’re traumatized theater kids without any capacity for a verbal filter which is also why they’re not allowed to watch movies at the tower
YJ is watching some hero movie and a character with a gruff voice sternly says “we don’t kill…we’re better than that” so Tim gives the most dramatic sigh and goes “this is giving me back the migraine from our last lecture from the league” which leads to YJ doing their best to dramatically reenact disappointed justice league lectures
Cissie, offhandedly: Most superheroes having that dumbass code that’s some variation of “we don’t kill, we’re better than that…” make me fucking nauseous because who’s we? I’ll have you know my mother assures me that I’m a piece of shit everyday so no I’m not better than this.
Greta, in a mocking disappointed tone: Cissie! I’m very surprised at your behavior, we’ve taught you better than that! We’re here to protect people not to hurt them
Kon, in his best angry Cissie impression: Well, who’s gonna protect my sleep schedule? You woke me up at 3am to stop some idiot that wanted to steal kryptonite? Are you serious?They’re not going to jail they’re going to the nearest cemetery that I can promise you
Anita, in a dramatic hero pose: I’m not like you…you made me realize something, I have friends and people that love me so I’m not going to-
Bart, doing an excellent mimicry of Anita’s unimpressed face: He killed your family wdym you’re better than that, that’s dumb as hell you even look at anyone I know with the tiniest hint of malice you’re leaving in a bodybag
Kon, turning to Bart and making his voice echo the way Greta’s does when she’s annoyed: what is this nonsense I wouldn’t let anyone get away with doing that to you guys I promise they’d suffer immensely
Cassie, hovering in the air doing a terrible impression of disappointed superman: We can’t kill because then we’re no better than they are
Anita, glaring at Cassie with her best Kon impression: I’m okay with that…let’s not pretend you don’t expect this from me, am I supposed to care? They deserve to suffer, why should I be the only one that has to suffer?
Anita, pretending to storm off dramatically while Cassie tries to look disapproving:
Cissie, doing her angry Bart impression: You’re not gonna waste people I actually like then get to chill in jail and breakout in a couple days
Tim, in a dramatic ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ tone: I’m not sure how you did things in the future but you can’t do things like this, do you understand?
Cissie, snorting and crossing her arms in the agitated way Bart does: I understand that our first fight will be our last because we’re not doing this shit again I’m not superman
Greta, in a gruff Batman voice: People can change if you give them a chance
Cassie, in a sarcastic Tim impression: I’ll start a timer I’ll even give him five minutes why are you playing with me rn Batman
Bart, sighing disappointedly: You're so angry and I wish you’d find an appropriate outlet for all this aggression. You don’t know what taking a life will do to you, what it’ll take from you….
Tim, in an irritated Kon impression: why not? we can find out let’s do an experiment and find out I like science I’m game hbu??
Cassie, who does the second best Batman voice: Neither of you can even begin to understand-! How do you know you won’t end up ending low tier criminals like pickpocketers? We can’t play judge, jury, and executioner… what happens when you’re wrong? What’s going to stop you?
Greta, fiddling with a phone and shrugging before giving Cassie Tim’s patented ‘I can ruin your life and you’ve just given me a reason’ look while doing her impression of the way Tim stands when he’s pissed and rolling her eyes: Self control? Common sense? When have my hunches ever been wrong? Don’t play with my intelligence, it will not work out for you
Bart, doing his best to copy the way Cassie stands and messes with their hair when they’re pissed: I’m just saying, if you blow up a city block you lose air privileges I have debris in my shoes rn for what?
[JL was meeting with a bunch of reporters in the tower and later had to do a lot of damage control after the press released a statement about the JL failing to rehabilitate young villains]
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racingliners · 12 days
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5 + sebchal 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi!!! Sorry this took all day, I don't know how to write short things. Hope you enjoy! 💚
sebchal + "I guess you are right" - send me a prompt!
Charles had changed his mind no less than fifty times about whether or not he should have simply flown to Switzerland instead of driving all the way up from Monaco. He’d already spent a good sleepless night before he left weighing up the pros and cons – flying would definitely have gotten the whole thing over with whatever the outcome, but driving through the French countryside and most of Switzerland gave Charles the most time to try and prepare a speech.
(The quickest way would have been to drive to Milan and then go North, but Charles wanted all the extra seconds the universe could spare him).
He’d spent the night at a hotel in Geneva that he couldn’t remember anything about other than the luxury setting and soft sheets, Charles still wasn’t able to think about much other than his destination.
He and Seb still exchanged Christmas cards, and Charles cherished every single one, which was why he thankfully didn’t have to ask Mia to ask Britta for Sebastian’s address. Something that would have added an extra layer of embarrassment to what Charles was about to do, maybe to the point of talking himself out of it, but he was glad that the irrational part of his mind was still winning out as he threw his weekend bag into the boot of his car (not his custom Ferrari, but a rental white Audi. He wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible).
Charles had expected the weather to be nicer for the second week of August, but instead the air was cool and the sky a barely there grey as he set off on the next leg of his journey.
He didn’t realise that he was in love with Sebastian until their last race as teammates, and every day since he’d kept his feelings buried so deep down there would be moments Charles would almost forget they were there. But then he’d see an Aston Martin drive past him, or a butterfly hovering on a flower and they would come back to the surface almost ten time stronger.
And now that Sebastian only had nine races left in his F1 career, for better or worse Charles decided he had to go to Switzerland to finally tell him how he felt.
The sky darkened the further into Switzerland Charles drove, and by the time he was 20 kilometres past Bern thick heavy raindrops started to batter the windscreen. He briefly considered pulling over at a service station but there was a small fire in his chest telling him to keep going, to keep driving.
Even in the pouring rain, Switzerland was beautiful. The deep green forests, the towering mountains that put the ones in Monaco to shame, the deep blue lakes that looked so much like Sebastian’s eyes it was borderline unnerving. Charles knew from the handful of pictures Seb had shown him over the years why Seb called the country home. There was a split second where Charles felt like he might be able to call it home too, but he gripped his hands tighter round the steering wheel to snap himself out of it.
As the pit of his stomach kept telling him, there was no guarantee Sebastian would now or ever love Charles back.
He allowed himself ten minutes at a service station just outside Lucerne for an espresso and a pep talk. After all, how hard would it really be to tell an ex-teammate that Charles was so in love with him he felt like bursting into flames if they were stood too close together.
Back in the driver’s seat, Charles gently brushed his hands down his navy button up shirt before resting them in his lap, allowing himself one deep breath before starting the car again, and driving away.
The closer he got to Sebastian’s house the more his throat seemed to tighten, to the point where he almost couldn’t breathe when Charles finally turned off the motorway and the satnav told him he would be at his destination in five short kilometres.
At some point the intensity of the rain had decreased to a light drizzle, Charles barely noticed it as he stepped out of the car but that might have been because he was fixated on the very unassuming front door to Sebastian’s house.
It was a dark wood with black metal fixtures screwed into it, and a tiny square glass window near the top. Charles was tall enough to look through it but he couldn’t see anything, as the rain started to fall heavier once more.
His whole mouth felt dry to the point he wasn’t sure if he would be able to get a word out let alone a sentence, and he realised that he’d left his coat in the car but he couldn’t turn and get it now when he was so close. Instead Charles slowly curled his right hand into a fist, and he knocked his knuckles against the wood three times.
All Charles could hear was the sound of the rain hitting the ground.
What was he thinking?! He should have called first, or at least texted Seb back in Lucerne to see if he was at home. For all Charles’ luck Sebastian was back in Heppenheim visiting his family and friends, or on holiday somewhere with someone that wasn’t Charles.
Why did he drive all this way in the hope that Sebastian already loved him in return?
Charles forced down a large gulp and bit down on his lip as he took two small steps away from the door. He didn’t want to leave, but maybe he had to. Maybe he would be better off letting his dreams of Sebastian go, maybe it would be easier this way.
He had just moved his left foot to turn himself round when the door opened.
“Charles?” And there Seb was, his gorgeous blue eyes wide as he looked Charles up and down in complete disbelief.
“Seb.” Charles said his name with a sigh of relief and a bright smile. He was right there, barely two metres away. If Charles tried hard enough he could probably smell Seb’s aftershave alongside the rain.
“What are you doing here?” “I love you.”
They both said at the exact same time, their faces fell mirroring each other perfectly.
“I’m sorry.” Charles said quickly. “I didn’t… I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had to tell you before you left.”
Seb’s eyes glanced past Charles at the Audi with its French licence plate, and quickly put two and two together.
“You…” The hand that had been rested against the door frame fell to Seb’s side. He was wearing a light grey crewneck that Charles was sure he’d seen Seb wear on multiple factory visits to Maranello paired with dark jeans and navy socks. “You drove all the way here?”
“I know it’s stupid.” Charles wasn’t sure if he was speaking about his feelings or his life choices. “I couldn’t tell you over the phone, I wanted to see you before Spa because if I don’t tell you now I don’t think I ever will. Because in time I’ll be able to live with not winning the title this year but I not if I say goodbye to you without you knowing how I feel.” The words tumbled out of his mouth almost as fast as the rain was falling from the sky. Charles briefly panted to regain his breath while his heart continued to hammer against his ribcage. He was soaked through now, but he didn’t care. He already knew that Seb turning him down would be worse. Clothes could dry but broken hearts were always harder to fix.
Sebastian blinked slowly, not once had his eyes left Charles’ face since he clocked the rental car parked in his driveway. His eyes were still wide, they looked like an ocean Charles would happily down in.
It was only when Charles realised that Seb still hadn’t said anything at all, that he opened his moth to start forming an apology, only to be cut off by Sebastian lurching forwards to cup his warm hands around Charles’ jaw as he tilted his head down to kiss him.
It was a fairly chaste kiss, but it was more than enough.
“You need to get inside.” Seb said quickly after he pulled away, his eyes darted all over Charles sodden clothes. “You should have worn a coat!”
Charles’ head now felt so light he had to grip onto Seb’s forearms out of fear he was about to float away.
“I guess you are right.” He said with a lazy smile, and he let Sebastian pull him inside the warm house. “I have a bag in the car-” Charles said as Sebastian shut the door behind them.
“Later.” Seb said firmly, pulling Charles in for a longer, deeper kiss.
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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
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I can’t get it out of my head so…stucky x reader HR
The elevator doors opened to the first floor of the technical and specialized portion of Stark Tower. The housing complexes above the admin offices, logistics, HR and any boardrooms had retained the agents, and were usually off limits to anyone who didn’t officiate directly with SHIELD.
Of course, being HR you were allowed to come up if it was necessary. And since you were in charge of dealing with the dynamic duo, you were up more often than not.
“Here we go again” was titular to your life though you couldn’t remember who sung it, it was always seemingly on the back of your mind. Even before you stepped off the elevator and onto the training floor for agents, you could tell some other HR violation had been broken.
Just as someone had mentioned once or twice not to bother the HR lady when she came through. And that message was clearly well received since none of the male agents would look you directly in the eye.
“Why is it always you two?” You stepped into the training room to see them, the two troublemakers and the cause of your busyness, standing off to the side.
“Come on, kitten-“ Bucky grinned half heartedly, side-eyeing his partner in crime.
“I told you not to call me that.” You squared your shoulders and squared off against Bucky Barnes. “So what was it this time? Did you throw another agent off the roof because you know that last time-“
“No one fell off the roof, I promise.” Steve cut you off, holding his hands up in defence.
“You look good-“ Bucky cleared his throat and stepped forward just as other agents stepped back.
“Did you experiment with poison again? Because I’m pretty sure there’s Geneva conventions-“ you drew your attention from Bucky to Steve and back again, your arms crossed over your chest.
“You lied about the HR relationship guidelines.” Steve’s jaw ticked and he appeared to be cross, only for the expression to soften. “I get it.”
“We get it, but-“
“Wait,” you furrowed your eyebrows and drew in a sharp breath, “are you trying to ask me out?”
“Tony’s got a party, kitten. We thought you’d wanna come with us.”
“With you?” You looked between them, feeling cornered but not unsafe.
“As our date, kitten. We wanna take you out, take you to the party. Don’t you feel this connection between us?” Steve’s fingers briefly brushed against your side and you shivered pleasantly, warmth pulsating in your belly.
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skitariiposting · 6 months
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So I haven't talked about my brother a lot on here, but I love this scamp to pieces. He's one of my bestest friends and he's way cooler than me.
One of his hobbies is making padded weaponry out of pool noodles and pvc pipes. He's even in a club at school dedicated to making and whacking other people with them in helms deep-esque battle scenarios. He's become one of the "official weapon smithies" for this club.
As such, in exchange for painting his tyranid army, I asked him to make one of my favorite swords for me, and boy did he deliver.
Behold: The Zweihander dubbed "Fiendbender"
(named after the sword one of my characters wielded in D&D)
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Water bottle for scale
This thing is roughly 80 inches long, boasts a golf club handle core, pvc guard, pool noodle tipped pommel and blade end for poking at either side, and certainly requires two hands to wield.
This is officially one of the coolest things I own.
No, I'm not compensating for anything.
To put some of his hairbrained schemes into perspective, the club is usually just swords, shields and daggers. They're medieval weapons only, so of course theres limits on what kind of swords and such.
My brother has made waves in the club for his proclivity of manufacturing weapons that get really close to breaking the rules of the club, and on occasion, he's even made some "illegal weapons." (Illegal in the sense that it breaks the clubs rules and can not be used in club battles, not that they are illegal due to breaking united states laws or the Geneva conventions)
He's made a cat of nine tails out of cat toys. He's made a crossbow out of pool noodles, bungee cords and a cut in half rubber dog toy. He's made a tower shield. He's made a maul out of duct tape and pillows. On a couple occasions its caused the leaders of the club to have to hold a meeting to discuss rule rewritings. My brother is a literal mad scientist, testing the waters of padded weaponry, skirting the rules, and he's built up a reputation for it, and I am so here for it.
If I can get him to take some pictures of them, I'll add them to the post later.
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lino-nyangi · 5 months
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on october 9th israel cut off water, electricity, food and fuel¹ from the population of gaza, palestine– subjecting 2.1 million palestinians to collective punishment, a war crime under the geneva convention.
last night, israel completely cut off communication² and internet connection in gaza, meaning no calls, no news, no texts, nothing.
people internationally have been trying to reach their relatives and friends in gaza but no one is responding. currently only those with international sim cards (so using roaming or connecting to israeli service providers) and al jazeera channel (using satellite connection) can be reached. this comes at the same time that the israeli air forces (IAF) intensified airstrikes on gaza, using different types of weapons including internationally banned white phosphorus against civilians. a ground and sea invasion have also been reported. all this, in a complete blackout. ironically the sky of gaza last night was orange, from the heavy explosions and fires. israel is quite literally commiting a genocide in the dark and no one dares to stop it.
notes under the cut
¹ this is not new, israel has complete control over gaza's water and electricity supply and have used collective punishment to penalize the whole population over attacks the resistance carry out. similarly, they control what goes into gaza from merchandise to medical aid through the rafah crossing with egypt and can choose to close it.
² keep in mind that this includes communication with paramedics and hospitals. palestinians cannot ask for help if they're in an area that's been bombed, and paramedics wouldn't know where to go to save people in need. no one knows anything.
i also would like to make it clear that by "cutting off" i don't mean they switched off a button, they quite literally destroyed towers necessary for telecom so the damage is irreparable, at least not immediately.
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burningvelvet · 9 months
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On June 23rd, 1816, Percy Shelley and Lord Byron got a boat together and set out on a sailing trip around Lake Geneva while sightseeing and reading Rousseau’s famous novel Julie, which takes place there. Percy chronicles this in his and Mary’s joint publication (her first publication), History of a Six Weeks’ Tour. They don’t name-drop Byron for privacy, but call him their “companion.”
Day 1, June 23rd, 1816 —
Percy Shelley, History of a Six Weeks' Tour:
“It is nearly a fortnight since I have returned from Vevai. This journey has been on every account delightful, but most especially, because then I first knew the divine beauty of Rousseau's imagination, as it exhibits itself in Julie. It is inconceivable what an enchantment the scene itself lends to those delineations, from which its own most touching charm arises. But I will give you an abstract of our voyage, which lasted eight days, and if you have a map of Switzerland, you can follow me.
We left Montalegre at half past two on the 23d of June. The lake was calm, and after three hours of rowing we arrived at Hermance, a beautiful little village, containing a ruined tower, built, the villagers say, by Julius Cæsar. There were three other towers similar to it, which the Genevese destroyed for their own fortifications in 1560. We got into the tower by a kind of window. The walls are immensely solid, and the stone of which it is built so hard, that it yet retained the mark of chisels. The boatmen said, that this tower was once three times higher than it is now. There are two staircases in the thickness of the walls, one of which is entirely demolished, and the other half ruined, and only accessible by a ladder. The town itself, now an inconsiderable village inhabited by a few fishermen, was built by a Queen of Burgundy, and reduced to its present state by the inhabitants of Berne, who burnt and ravaged every thing they could find.
Leaving Hermance, we arrived at sunset at the village of Nerni. After looking at our lodgings, which were gloomy and dirty, we walked out by the side of the lake. It was beautiful to see the vast expanse of these purple and misty waters broken by the craggy islets near to its slant and ‘beached margin.’ There were many fish sporting in the lake, and multitudes were collected close to the rocks to catch the flies which inhabited them.
On returning to the village, we sat on a wall beside the lake, looking at some children who were playing at a game like ninepins. The children here appeared in an extraordinary way deformed and diseased. Most of them were crooked, and with enlarged throats; but one little boy had such exquisite grace in his mien and motions, as I never before saw equalled in a child. His countenance was beautiful for the expression with which it overflowed. There was a mixture of pride and gentleness in his eyes and lips, the indications of sensibility, which his education will probably pervert to misery or seduce to crime; but there was more of gentleness than of pride, and it seemed that the pride was tamed from its original wildness by the habitual exercise of milder feelings. My companion gave him a piece of money, which he took without speaking, with a sweet smile of easy thankfulness, and then with an unembarrassed air turned to his play. All this might scarcely be; but the imagination surely could not forbear to breathe into the most inanimate forms some likeness of its own visions, on such a serene and glowing evening, in this remote and romantic village, beside the calm lake that bore us hither.
On returning to our inn, we found that the servant had arranged our rooms, and deprived them of the greater portion of their former disconsolate appearance. They reminded my companion of Greece: it was five years, he said, since he had slept in such beds. The influence of the recollections excited by this circumstance on our conversation gradually faded, and I retired to rest with no unpleasant sensations, thinking of our journey tomorrow, and of the pleasure of recounting the little adventures of it when we return.”
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UPDATE: I took my dates from Shelley, but his dates must have been confused and Byron's must be more accurate. Because I'd been confused by Byron's dates in the past, since he often wrote past midnight (thus often referring his prior day as "today"), I had assumed Shelley was more trustworthy. According to Shelley and His Circle vol. 4 pp. 700-701, they left on June 22nd which was a Saturday, and so I believe each day of their trip would be one earlier than I and Shelley stated in these posts.
Taken from Shelley and His Circle:
"TIMETABLE OF THE LAKE GENEVA TOUR
June 22, Saturday: Sailed from Montalègre, slept at Nernier.
June 23, Sunday: Sailed from Nernier, slept at Evian.
June 24, Monday: Sailed from Evian, encountered storm off Meillerie, slept at St. Gingolph.
June 25, Tuesday: Sailed from St. Gingolph, saw the mouths of the Rhone, visited Chillon Castle, landed at Clarens, visited bosquet de Julie, slept at Mme. Pauly's house (Place Gambetta) at Clarens.
June 26, Wednesday: Visited Le Châtelard, and the bosquet de Julie, sailed from Clarens, visited Vevey, slept at the Hotel de l'Ancre at Ouchy.
June 27, Thursday: Visited Gibbon's house at Lausanne, slept at Ouchy.
June 28, Friday: Remained at Ouchy.
June 29, Saturday: Sailed from Ouchy, slept at [?Rolle].
June 30, Sunday: Sailed from [?Rolle], arrived at Montalègre."
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f1-giuki · 9 months
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Post the current first sentence(s) of your wips!
thank you for the tag darlings🥺💖@carronyaflowers @celientjeee @stillthe1
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1. A Sunday Kind of Love part 6:
Max doesn’t exactly love spring. Well, we should say he doesn’t like certain aspects of spring, especially the insane amount of pollen flowing around in the air, next to bees, flies and all the other insects that exchange the blond mop of his hair for a flower bush.
2. You Could Hang It In The Louvre part 2:
Max hums contently in his seat. His clothes are rumpled and his body is covered in hickeys. The zipper in his trousers is still undone but he doesn't care that much. Detective Charles Leclerc is sitting next to him, controlling the plane with ease. His shirt is crumpled on the elbows, giving Max a nice view of those strong and veiny forearms. He sometimes communicates with the control tower in Geneva in quick French. Max melts down on the seat even more. It's rare for him to stay quiet, but being fucked into an airplane seat at 10 km altitude by his enemy slash forbidden wet dream keeps his stupid brain empty.
3. Lestappen Time Travelling AU:
-To the idiot who used time capsule 16 to go to the fucking London zoo the day of the opening and left the door open for a good two hours,
I had to chase a fucking zebra for the whole fucking building before using it again.
I will find you and I will sue you, if you know what I mean.
Max Verstappen, 30th of September 2301.
4. Lestappen Cars AU:
"Okay, here we go. Focus. Speed. I am speed." Charles mumbles to himself, eyes closed, helmet and gloves on. "One winner. 17 losers. I eat losers for breakfast!" He continues and grins, the ease of someone who has meticulously prepared this speech. "Oh, breakfast, fuck, maybe I should have had breakfast, it would have been nice, I'm quite hungry now... Jesus, no! Stay focused, stay focused, think about speed! I'm faster than fast, quicker than quick, I'm a-
"Oi, lightning, are you ready?" His chief mechanic asks, patting a hand on his back.
"Oh yeah, I'm ready," Charles says, revving up the engine of his bike.
-
THESE ARE JUST A FEW PARDON ME SISHDOEJEJ the others are just silly little ideas I still have to write down!
tagging (if you haven't already done it babes💖) @jussst-lurking @alestire @amarynas @epylonia @fueledbyremembering
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taminoarticles · 1 year
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— Tamino for Holiday Magazine, No. 384, Autumn/Winter 2019-2020 (x) (x)
Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad
Photographs by Karim Sadli Styling by Max Pearmain and Interview by Marc Beaugé
Tamino was born in Belgium to an Egyptian father and a Belgian mother, but his roots, dreams and memories are elsewhere. Here are his answers to the Holiday questionnaire
Do you enjoy traveling alone? Of course. I believe in the virtues of solitude and alone time. When I’m on tour, I often travel by myself. I arrive in a country I don’t know and get my bearings. You get a better understanding of a country when you go there on your own.
What do you do when you’re alone? I make music, and I read. This summer I devoured the first volume of My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgård.
What’s your travel style: tour guide or head off on your own? Neither one. The best thing is to follow a local—not a guide, just someone who’s really familiar with the city and can show you the best places.
Is it possible to go somewhere and miss the unmissable? Depends. The things we think we can’t miss are never really unmissable. I visited the Eiffel Tower when I was in eighth grade. It was great, but I’m not sure I’d go back now. But I visit the pyramids whenever I go to Cairo. Why? Because they’re breathtaking. I don’t think there’s any other place on Earth that’s so monumental, so mysterious, so incredible.
Would you rather travel by car, plane, or train? I hate the journey because I’m always touring, which means I’m always traveling. I don’t have a license, so I don’t drive. Planes? I used to love them, but I’ve ended up hating them. I’m too big to be comfortable on a plane, and I’m not rich enough to fly business class.
Do you look out of the window of the plane or do you disdain the sky? I’m capable of getting into a fight to bag the window seat.
What movie only works on a plane? Bad Times at the El Royale, with Jeff Bridges. I’ve watched it on land and on a plane. And it was much better on the plane.
What languages do you speak? German, English and a bit of French. Right now I’m learning Arabic on Duolingo. I’m starting to understand a few words and sentences, but I can’t say anything. I can’t even order a meal in a restaurant. I haven’t gotten to the “food and drink” section yet. But I know all the names for domestic animals.
What’s your weakness when it comes to food? Lebanese. Mezze, hummus, etc. I like all of it.
Which place has the best street food in the world? Lebanon, obviously. Whatever Italians may think.
What’s one thing you absolutely cannot eat? Pineapple. I’m allergic to it. My tongue swells up when I eat it. The worst thing is that I love pineapples.
Do you post your holiday photos on Instagram? No, I avoid it. Actually, it doesn’t occur to me. When I’m on holiday, I take photos of the scenery. I keep them on my phone, and no one ever sees them, including me. I’m not really into selfies—or Instagram.
An item of clothing you’d never wear on holiday? A pink T-shirt, maybe. No, wait—Borat’s green swimsuit. I think that’d be quite hard to carry off. But maybe I’m too conservative.
Do you go to supermarkets when you’re abroad? Same as Instagram. I avoid them whenever possible.
Do you think the mountains are most beautiful in summer? Yes. I’m not obsessed with the seaside, in any case. I prefer lakes. For instance, I love swimming in Lake Geneva.
How do you visit museums? I have a very special technique. I focus on one or two artworks and spend a lot of time looking at them. I ignore everything else. It’s a form of snobbery, and I'm totally okay with that.
What would you consider the ideal number of guests for a dinner party? I enjoy one-on-one conversation, but it’s always a bit of a risk. If you get it wrong, it can be a disaster. I speak from experience.
Is there a smell you will always associate with vacations? The smell of the sea, I guess. No, the smell of suntan lotion, actually. It’s not the best smell there is, but it definitely smells like vacation.
Do you enjoy sunbathing? No, not really. I’m half Egyptian, so I tan very quickly, even if I don't want to.
How long can you stay at the beach? It depends entirely on the book I happen to be reading that day.
Is there a place you never tire of visiting? I really like the town of Dahab in Egypt. I’ve been there several times and never get tired of it. But so far I don’t think I’ve found a place I love so much that I’ll return throughout my life.
Where would you build the house of your dreams? That question is way too tough to answer. I don’t have a favorite city; I still haven’t come across it, but the house would have to be near a river or a lake. Most importantly, the view from the window would have to look like a painting. That would be the deciding factor.
THE END
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enteringdullsville · 11 months
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Gordon Monade, the Yellow Drewman
Be Responsible
Rank: A+ (Main Protagonist)
Aesthetic: Tough
Visual Inspirations
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Other Character Bases
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Father Fearest
Gordon, Violet’s husband, towers over the rest of the cast, but he’s a gentle giant. He kinda has to be, to resist the urge to smack the next person who does something stupid.
To put it bluntly, Gordie’s a nervous wreck. He’s not what one would call a coward, but he’s incredibly uptight for someone who resembles an uplifted smiley emoji. Considering he has to play parent for everyone else in ICT (in addition to his and Vi’s actual kid), it’s pretty justified. Some say the only reason he’s bulked up so much is so nothing can take him down.
Despite working for a troupe of comedians, Gordon’s a refined, intellectual guy in his down time. He doesn’t bother trying involving the others in his hobbies, since he doesn’t trust the others (besides occasionally Violet) to listen to him long enough to care.
Fun Facts
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Gordon’s name is one consonant sound off from “golden”, reflecting his color palette.
Gordon is the tallest Primary Character by a wide margin.
In contrast to Violet, he’s the only male Primary Character without the default arc eyebrows.
Gordon and Violet are the only two Primary Characters to be in any sort of relationship. In their case, they are married.
Gordon is the only Primary Character to be a part of MYCK Drop (alongside Geneva, Bryan, and Noah), as yellow is part of the CYMK color model .
Gordon and Violet are two of the very few characters to have any color aside from a shade of their own in their palette. In his case, he has a violet wedding ring.
Gordon, Violet, and Rudy were all far more childish and hyperactive in their original designs. In Drew/Gordon’s case, it is glaringly obvious.
Gordon’s surname derives from “lemonade”, but it is pronounced “Muhn-ODD”.
Gordon is the only Primary Character whose design has remained entirely untouched aside from a rise in quality since his second Rough Sketch design.
Gordon’s black stripes on the back of his head, while initially orange, were always a constant design choice on him.
Gordon’s musculature reflects his strength, although he is often depicted as excessively and casually strong in relation to his size.
Gordon’s eyes widen into conjoined eyes with visible sclerae when shocked.
Gordon gets irrationally angry whenever people answer his phone calls with “y’ello.”
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yrshots · 2 years
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| V O L U M E S ET G É O M E T R I E | -- 2 photos 📸 Photo™ by @yr.shots (IG) / #YRShots / @YRShots (FB) ©2022YRShots 🚩 Zone Industrielle du Lignon, Vernier 🕕 Jeudi 28 avril 2022, 15h49 / 15h51 📷 @canonswitzerland EOS 80 D Canon EF-S 18-135mm f/3.5-5.6 IS USM f/13 -- 1/80 -- 29.00mm -- ISO100 f/10 -- 1/125 -- 27.00mm -- ISO100 🌐 http://yrshots.ch __________________________________________________ #Vernier #villedevernier #lignon #citédulignon #zoneindustrielledulignon #volumes #geometrie #geneve #geneva #zoneindustrielle #industrie #usines #geometric #cityscape #landscape #landscapescapture #citernes #tours #towers #urban #design #abstract (à Lignon.Suisse) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc82MghooZk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Visit Santa Clause’s Mountaintop Workshop in Montreux, Switzerland
December 16, 2010 by Henk Bekker in Christmas, Events, Family Travel, Montreux-Vevey. Each December children can visit Father Christmas by cog-wheel mountain train at his Swiss home on Rochers-de-Naye, an Alpine peak towering over Montreux and Lac Léman. In 2020, the Montreux Christmas market and all related activities were canceled. Visiting Santa’s house at the top of Rochers-de-Naye is one of main attractions for children to the annual Marché de Noël à Montreux on Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The Christmas market on the lakeside quays in Montreux is the largest and best Weihnachtsmarkt in French-speaking Switzerland but a cog-wheel train trip up the mountain to see Santa at his Swiss home adds a magical element with snow guaranteed
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caramel1mochi · 7 months
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Beau Idéal [Chamber x F! Reader] [5]
Heya! Wrote a little extra today! Just a litte. If my hands were sentient, I would've lost my jaw.
❤ฺ·。
Chamber x F! Reader
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
Genre: Fluff, but only if you squint really hard.
CW: Emotional manipulation, mental warfare, Geneva convention? Who's she?
Synopsis: Behind his poise façade lies an ocean of inhuman thoughts. This is the first time Chamber let his mask slip. And unfortunately, as the only witness; you happen to have a front-row seat.
。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·
Arriving on A tower, he walked towards the opening and pointed at the doorway on the left, lowering his voice so as to not be heard.
“In a few seconds, they will emerge. I guarantee it.”
Chamber said, as if they were a pair of cicadas as opposed to people. He shifted towards back-site, drawing an invisible line between the doorway and the constricted entrance to the site.
“Prepare a wall, keep it ready. On my command, you will use it to separate them from each other and trap one in the corner. The other will be exposed on site.”
“You’ll shoot them, right?”
As if what you said was completely preposterous, he patted your back with a chuckle and met your gaze.
“Of course I will. How else would they die?”
You stared at him for a few seconds. The unease from a few moments before didn’t change. In fact, it grew with each word he spoke. It felt like you were both on completely different pages here. But there was no time to sit around and discuss your concerns with him. You had no choice but to comply.
“Okay… but I don’t want to bury anyone again.”
“Ma chérie, you hardly need to think, d’accord? I have this all planned. All you need to do is obey.” <My dear, you hardly need to think, okay?>
You nodded, before turning your gaze back to site and formed an adequate amount of dirt underground, combining it with the preexisting one. The sudden abundance of it began splitting the concrete, soil spewing out of it. Now the path grew more and more visible, until it was wide and long enough to form a wall. Unlike the mound earlier, this process was less awkward since building moving walls was your main trick.
As you worked, you suddenly heard steps behind you, the sparks of electricity making it clear that it was Neon. But you couldn’t identify the other one. You looked to your right, but Chamber disappeared. And you couldn’t say anything in fear of alerting your position. So, with not much choice, you kept your Ghost aimed at the entrance behind you, the other hand working on keeping the to-be wall close together. Then, thankfully, the radio cracked.
‘I hear them. Keep your focus on the site, they will not part.’
On the site? But…
The footsteps ran past the entrance you kept your eyes on, rushing towards screens just like he called. And in a panic, you dropped your weapon and kept the wall ready; but they had already made their way out by the time your eyes were on it. Crap, you should’ve listened to him.
‘Walls up!’
You mindlessly lifted it and separated Neon from who appeared to be Sova, watching as the Filipino slipped on the sudden barrier that emerged. It trapped Sova in the corner. Though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was there. But it wasn’t enough, apparently.
‘Excellent, more height! Keep it going.’
‘But this is–’
‘For the love of god, do as I say!’
He repeated with a bizarre amount of vigour, and the walls kept growing as far as the eye can see, way past what you’d usually be able to handle. Though this exhausted you, it wasn’t the main problem. The more feet you added to the wide barrier, the less stable it became; crumbling and wobbling. And in only a few seconds, though it rivalled the very building it ran through in height, it was only a few more inches from completely falling apart. 
Then, he spoke up.
‘Now, push it to the left!’
You used all of your might to only slightly sway it to said direction, before it escaped your grasp and completely fell apart. The more the soil dropped, the larger clumps piled up on top of one another. And eventually, it formed a long continuous hill that buried a quarter of the site, intersecting a portion of it. You stared at it in silence for a few seconds, heart racing. It wasn’t just the amount of strength it took that left you exhausted, but you weren’t sure what happened to Sova. Did you bury–
‘Bravo, beautiful work, A/N! I knew you had it in you.’
‘Chamber, I think I–’
‘We talk afterwards, ma chérie. Neon ran off to the other side. Hurry, make your way to sewers, she might be headed for mid.’
You swallowed and grabbed your weapon, making your way to the area without second thought.
As you walked through the sewers, a wet squelch echoing with each step, your mind began racing as did the palpitations of your heart. What happened to Sova? Did you bury him as well? Chamber said he’d shoot him… or were your words not clear enough? None of this was normal. You’d shoot people, sure, but you wouldn’t drag out their deaths like this. 
And what concerned you was the enthusiasm in Chamber’s voice. He displayed only a small number of emotions, usually positive ones, and none sounded as passionate as the thrill you heard seconds ago.
Whatever, that wasn't the point.
❤ฺ·。
Exiting sewers, you kept your ear to the ground, weapons drawn, waiting for anything awry to pump full of lead. With no additional information from Chamber, you were left to assume that she was still on her way, keeping your eyes on the entrance just in front of you.
And for a few seconds, there was nothing.
‘Did you make it?’
‘Sure did, but I don’t hear or see anything here.’
With your gun still pointed at said entrance, you slowly made your way up the stairs behind you to take better cover.
‘Parfait. Neon is trapped between you, me, and our dear friends back on A. I want you to be ready in case she comes to you.’
‘Why don’t you come and help me out? Neon’s super fast and my soil doesn’t catch up to her!’
For a moment, his chuckle filled your ears. And again, it made you feel like you were making mountains out of molehills. Metaphorically, of course.
‘Let me ask you a question, A/N. What does wet soil do to electricity?’
You paused.
‘It…’ 
‘It conducts it. Now, what happens if the soil is dry?’
You looked down at your hands, noticing the layer of clay that had begun to crack and dry out.
‘It doesn’t… conduct it?’
‘Precisely! Conduction starts to get rockier on her end. She has no chance against you given how dry your soil naturally is, non? This is the perfect opportunity; use it to your advantage.’
You could tell Chamber dumbed things down for you to understand; but that doesn’t mean it didn’t make you suddenly more confident in your abilities. And only now did you understand why he held your hand and drew random lines back in his office.
‘How do you know all of this?’
‘A/N, please. Do you think all of those books were for show?’
Oh. Yeah. Maybe he was right about reading up on this stuff, you could figure out how to counteract all of the other agents. What if you use your soil to soak up Harbour’s water and force his own walls down?
‘Awesome. How do I do that? Another wall, or a wave again?’
‘Where are you?’
You stopped and looked around, before walking up the flight of stairs to your right and taking cover behind one wall. From there, you could hear the gunshots that still lingered throughout A site. Seems like they were still there, but they grew more scarce.
‘Back on tower.’
‘Wonderful. Now, can you summon soil and cover most of the ground?’
‘Most of the what?’
‘Oui. Cover more ground, then lift, the same way you do with your walls. Can you do that?’
‘And then… what? It would be a flat surface in the air.’
‘When she steps in the centre, raise it. Engulf her in soil; like chrysalis.’
You leered at the area he wanted you to defile with such a destructive tactic. At the bottom of the stairs, right in front of the sewers you came out of. Admittedly, you’d never thought of doing something like this. But that was only because you didn’t really enjoy putting your enemies in anguish.
Stretching your hand out, you begin summoning more soil underneath the concrete like before. But this time, instead of a singular path, you summoned it in all areas. Tiles began clicking against each other as they broke apart, lifted alongside the sea of soil. 
Then, you lifted both hands, said tiles lifted up on a platter of dirt.
It took an immense amount of power, and honestly it ruined the floor to the point it would be hard to walk on, but it amazed you enough to be able to keep going. You dropped it all and unmuted the radio, flattening the ground as much as you could.
‘Okay, okay, I can do that.’
‘Parfait. Get everything set up, I will be a few steps away.’
So, just like Deadlock’s ult, but more debilitating to whatever exposed soft tissues she had. Eyes, mouth, nose, that sort. Moreover, it might be a problem with the tiles that you also had to lift up. Maybe if you were swift enough, you could push them all out of the way.
You pressed yourself against the wall and kept listening for her steps.
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