#somewhere in bulgaria

[l-homme-triste-qui-rit]

Направих тази снимка в една топла юлска лятна вечер, това лято, без да подозирам, че точно на следващия ден стената ще бъде покрита с фибран, за да бъде санирана сградата. Истината е, че този надпис го гледам от няколко месеца преди да направя снимката... Е това ако не е чист късмет, не знам кое е?! 😇

Нямам идея чии са инициалите, но не това е важното, а написаното...

Обичайте се, хора! ❤️

[borisyogurth]

[turtleramen]

oh yeah that byzantine design i did for the baby slavics, i ended up kinda liking her,

the second pics caption -> did they invent kindergartens yet

[magnoliamyrrh]

i mean... i guess turkey is kind of like that. it first went through a push to westernize the country, and now its going through a push in the opposite direction. plenty of good and bad has come with both frankly, and like just about everywhere else on this planet, its a mess. but im still despite everything thats happening considering moving to turkey eventually - homosexuality may be discriminated against but its not criminalized, and the blend of everything happening is rather fascinating. traditional islamic clothes and culture on one side, westernized clothes and culture on the other. felt very at home in turkey, and felt like i could be myself in many regards. also, the sex trafficking of my women is a huge issue in turkey and someone needs to do something abt that as well as them prostitution laws they have (i know its affecting syrian refugee women and girls rather badly too, and im sure not only)

[otherion]

[thecolorblr]

Somewhere in Bulgaria

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 20: cold

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: yes this chapter is highly inspired by this render by the amazing @ave661 and yes this chapter is this old, but hey we're finally getting somewhere. Enjoy while it lasts

CW/TW: fluff, longing, teasing, mentions of angst, trauma, nightmares

wordcount: 4.2k

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The mission was bone crushing. Not in the way that you wouldn't make it out alive, but by the temperatures you were surrounded, sitting in the tiniest places to observe a warehouse with only the little voices in your head was claiming its toll. Both mentally and physically. Between the little times you'd come back to the safehouse, writing, and encoding the gathered intel for Laswell you could finally calm down a bit. Throwing the layers of clothing that were soaked with the bitterness of freezing Bulgaria into the corners, making you a hot instant coffee that tasted like liquid death and hoping that you somehow could warm up your sore limbs. But you weren't able to. It was the second week in the mountains and the cold started to crawl into your muscles. Every day it got a bit harder to go out again. You just craved some real warmth. A comforting feeling provided by someone.

In this situation you wished you had never given that hoodie back to him in the first place. Those calm moments during the lonely shifts. Sitting in the corner in front of the little electronical heater, the only thing that prevented you from freezing to death. You made a mental note, to ask Kate for a hotel with a bathtub before heading back to the base. Just a way to get the cold out of your body. You would literally commit a war crime to have a good hot bath and a well-made tea right now. You pulled the silvern zippo out of your pocket and ignited it. The flame started to dance, and you stared into it. It invited your mind to shut down for just a little while. Your free hand moving carefully over it. This little flame provided you with much more comfort than the entire safehouse. A little smile crawled up to your already pale blueish lips.

The 141 gave you a place you wanted to return to. But Simon provided you with a longing for that spot on the couch in the common room. A longing for a shared fag. A craving to be close to him again. You closed your eyes for a few seconds. Letting yourself wonder if they were alright. If their missions were better than yours or if they even would be back at the base already. You wanted so bad to just pull your phone out and call them, him. Hear his voice again, but it wasn't possible. But the sheer thought of reunion kept you pushing forward. It made you become a bit needy and selfish but how couldn't you?

The way he let all your problems wash away, the way he provided you with something you had lost and somehow never called yours anyways. And if he would let you, even if it was just a moment to rest your head on his brawn shoulder while falling asleep surrounded by everyone again, you would take it and cherish it. You would gladly accept everything he would provide you with and if you needed to hear every bad dad joke on this earth, you would gladly listen. You wanted to know the man behind the mask, and you started to learn, that he was the person you wanted in your life. Both, Simon and Ghost. Maybe it was your savior complex, maybe it was pure affection or just simple attraction. But as soon as you looked into his eyes the world seemed a better place.

König was right, your own eyes did betray you but for once in your life you shouldn't care about how frightened you were. You knew long time ago how Simon made you feel, and it wasn't about the hormones in your body. It was your heart screaming to be heard. Still, you were able to ignore it for the longest time, but with every day out in the plain greyness, alone with your thoughts it pushed you further into a corner. The loneliness forced you to listen and what it told you wasn't shocking nor surprising. You had fallen for him. Since the evening when he told you his name. Since this day he became irreversible your missing piece, and with every day further the spot this piece occupied grew, and it rather will be your redemption or your doom. But you wouldn't care, you would take it anyhow it'd come your way. You had been a fool for lesser things, so why shouldn't you risk something for once in your life, that might make your life more worth of living.

The mission took a few more days longer. A few more days walking and climbing through the air vents to observe and infiltrate the sewage system. Satisfied with your job you sat in a helicopter that brought you home. Unfortunately, Kate had to deny your wish about the hotel, but you didn't care. You were able to leave this place and hopefully be reunited with your team again. Soap was the first to welcome you again, he was outside of the base literally sprinting towards you as he took sight of you. "Yer back! Woah, ye look like ye've seen a ghost," he chuckled at the well-intended pun, but his smile faltered as he saw your pale face. Your lips tugged upwards weakly smiling at him.

 "Just cold and tired," you stated while giving him a quick hug. His hands lingered on your shoulders after you pulled away. Since the fake dating mission, he was way more touchy-feely with you, but you didn't mind.  

"Laswell is in Price’s office. As soon as yer ready ye can debrief. Maybe a hot shower beforehand?" He squeezed your shoulder slightly and you nodded.

"I'd die for a good tea," you mumbled, eyes staring in the distant.

"Yer Brits eh. I can try to make ye some, bonnie." He smiled sincere. A smile you’ve seen so many times on his face when he wasn’t teasing. Your brows narrowed at his statement. That's when Johnny's features faltered just a bit, his eyes remind bright though. "Gaz and the Captain are already gone again, and Lt isn't even back yet." Your mouth formed a little 'oh'. "Unfortunately, yer gonna take ma company till then." He chuckled while helping with your bag and heading in with you together.

The hot water ran over your bare skin but unfortunately it merely had a painful effect than melting your frozen limbs. With some fresh clothes and still damp hair you went right to Price's office to report everything to Laswell and then went to your shared office again. You sat over your reports and sipped on the tea Johnny had prepared. It wasn't as awful as the instant coffee you drank the last weeks, but it definitely didn't deserve to be called tea. Still, you didn't want to hurt his feelings and drank it. With a little side note to maybe show him how to properly make tea. Nevertheless, the hot beverage - as stated before you couldn't call it tea - helped filling you with a slight warmth.

After some time when you felt a familiar sensation pricking at the corner of your eyes, you decided to take a little break. You looked over your desk and suddenly realized how empty it was. Your eyes trailed over to Kyle's and Johnny's. Decorated with some pictures of family, some medals, and even something that seemed like collectibles. You opened the first drawer of your table and found a little paper box. Opening it, it revealed some pictures you always had near you but never managed to actually put them on display. You needed to change that, so you ordered a few frames to be able to put them on your desk. It was nothing you needed to keep secret, nothing to hide from them anymore. When your eyes moved to your front view, you were met with a plain table, just like yours. But your eyes caught something way more interesting. A piece of grey fabric, lingering over the back of his chair. A piece you were way too familiar with. Did he forget to put it away? Impossible, he wore it the evening when you all had to head out. He had to get changed, he had to come here to drop it off. Your lips tugged upwards into a sweet smile. He had to leave it here on purpose. He wouldn't mind, would he? You pulled of the fitting sweater you wore and exchanged it shamelessly with his hoodie. It filled your nostrils with such a comforting scent and immediately some of the coldness left your body. You pulled the neckline over your nose to be able to inhale his smell even more. Letting go, pulling the hood over your head you moved back to work on the reports. You could already see the smug grin on Johnny's face and hear his teasing comments, but you didn't care. This simple piece of fabric finally could provide you with the craved comfort.

It took some more days for Price and Kyle to return, Simon was still vanished. Meanwhile Soap was sent out again, and you were assigned to help with mapping everything out and linking it together. Sometimes König dropped by, accompanying you when he had nothing else to do. He couldn't suppress the teasing comments just like Johnny. Why didn’t they get along? You couldn't understand, for real. You spent the time with König alone to also fulfill another little mission Price gave you some time ago, which still gave you kind of anxiety, but you did understand to well. Price wanted to make sure, and so did you.

 As Soap came back, he had new coordinates and outlines with him. They sent out drones and worked with GPS to track whatever passed through the sewage system. You now had the task to link the routes and compare it to anything suspicious from your already gathered knowledge. It was quite a hard task, by now you had so many small fragments of information, tons of different locations and just a few faces, but you could do it.

"Bonnie..." A concerned but soft voice reached out to you, followed by a hand on your shoulder as you sat on the floor to have more space for the huge map you tried to mark everything on. You looked up at him. "Head to bed. Tomorrow is another day." It was the third day you spent nonstop in the office trying to complete the map outlines.

"Just one more..." A weak smile on your lips and he nodded with a defeated sigh.

"Aye. Can’t convince yer anyways. " He patted your shoulder before leaving for his room. One hour became another, and another. You weren't even aware that you fell asleep here. Your back leaned against Kyle's desk, knees tugged to your chest and head resting on it. It wasn't comfortable, it wasn't cozy, but your body forced you to rest.

Meanwhile, it was Simon who finally sat a foot back on base. He was exhausted from the events of the past weeks. Solo ops were always different, difficult for his mind. Sure, he had a mission to accomplish but, in the end, there were no one distracting him from his own thoughts. Especially during the times, he was alone in the safehouse. He was used to being alone with himself. Mind wandering around everything what needed to be done. What have been done but now, it was different now. His brain was altered by you, and in those little moments, his thoughts circled around anything but the mission. It got even harder when his nights became shorter, and the nerve-wrecking nightmares became stronger. He often unfolded the little paper he found in his vest, and always found himself with a little smile when he put it back again.

A deep exhale of pure relief left his throat as some familiar faces greeted him. It was quite early and the routines of the other soldiers around the base already bringing back a feeling of good old habits. His feet dragged him to Price’s office first, announcing his return and debriefing just really quick. Not even bothering to go back to his room he found himself in the common room. A place that somehow became much cozier than he remembered. His eyes found Johnny in the little kitchen corner, fumbling with the can of your favorite tea. “What the ‘ell are ya tryin’ Sarge?” He threw his duffel bag onto the couch together with his vest, and got closer to the Scot, who nearly threw the can and the spoon in the air.

“Dia-diag!” [god damn] He breathed out before a small smile tugged at his lips. Simon arched his brow at him while he looked at the scenery. “Yer back, Lt. Good to see yer.” He smiled while pushing the can and the spoon into his chest before moving aside. “I wanted to make her some tea, but now yer back, sooo yer assigned with that job again. Aye?” His smile teasing as always, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Simon didn’t even question it further and only shook his head in amusement before preparing the tea like he knew you loved it. “‘s she good?” he said absently while stirring in the cup.

“Lass will be much better now,” Johnny said while taking the cup of coffee he prepared for himself, a smug grin on his face while his feet started to carry him to the shared office. Knowing that you’d be already back there working. Simon trailed after him, the cup filled with an actual well-made tea in his hand, and a smile of anticipation on his lips beneath the mask.

The sight in front of both men just let Johnny deeply exhale. “Told her to go to bed….” He wanted to wake you up, but Simon stopped him. Pushing the cup in the other one’s hand while his feet dragged him towards you. His heart ached at the view. Your figure all curled up, in his hoodie on the floor. He carefully crouched down in front of you. His gloved hand finding your shoulder and squeezing it just so slightly. It earned him a sweet puff out of your mouth before your hand started to rub your eyes.

“Johnny… if I hear only one…” You slowly looked up and had to blink a few times, when you realized it wasn’t the Scot waking you up. Simon responded with a nearly inaudible chuckle. The familiar skull face in front of you made you rub your eyes once more before your body reacted completely on its own.

From your earlier position nearly leaping on your knees and your arms just flew around his statue, while you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Just as you realized what you so randomly did, you wanted to pull away. Your brain still so sleepy, but you needed to apologize for the misbehavior. Just then, he wrapped his brawn arms around your lower body and pulled you even closer. His huge hands squeezed around your waist as he held you close, and you sunk even more into him. One of his hands wandered from your waist to your nape, keeping you firm against him. Nothing could stop your heart from pounding against your chest, but the cold finally seemed to get out of your system. “You’re back,” you cooed so silently, while you inhaled his delicious scent, mixed with dry dust, and sweat. He hummed in approval, while he couldn’t resist to do just the same, inhale yourself. A scent he witnessed the first time so close when you returned his hoodie, and he already got addicted to it. Both of you could’ve stayed in this position for who-knows how long. It felt too good. Never did he feel so soothed, his eyes closing, hoping that the moment would last.

“Good morni – Oi, Lt. You’re back!” Kyle’s voice broke the sincere silence in the room and Johnny wanted to pour the hot beverages just over the Brit. Soap stayed extra silent during this moment, biting back his shit eating grin and teasing comments to grant both of you this moment, a moment of progress he wanted to witness for so long. He only glared at Kyle who simply shrugged. Because just then the two of you parted and Simon looked at Kyle, nodded in response before standing up again. Somehow to your fortune because otherwise he’d seen how red your face turned from a simple and friendly hug. Simon extended a hand to help you up and you gladly took it. Still wearing a sweet smile on your lips. His eyes are pinned on yours, but you couldn’t make out, what they wanted to tell you. You couldn’t read the expression that lingered between those dark orbs.

It’s another familiar voice that dragged your attention back, as your Captain walked into the office. “Good to see everyone together again.” He clapped in his hands. “Shall we start then?”

All of you talked about the last ops, and proceeding what would be the best after your now gathered knowledge. You found out which warehouse was the crux of the matter. Price made sure to speak with Laswell and König before taking further steps, but he already mentioned of heading out soon again. He dismissed everyone to go after their choirs for today.

Just before Simon wanted to leave, you stopped him by holding onto his wrist. A sweet but tired smile on your lips. He only looked at you, his eyes still saying the same as before and still you couldn’t get a grip of what they wanted to tell you. “’s something wrong?” He turned his body back to you while not pulling away. You shook your head no and lifted his hand by his wrist. He let you. You then fished in your pocket for the silvern lighter before placing it in his hand again. His palm closed.

“As promised,” you stated before letting go of his wrist and you could see how the corner of his eyes started to crinkle. Your smile only grew abit, before you left the office to go after your day without any more troubles. He looked after you. He wanted to say something about the note, something about the days separated. Anything, but again, he just stood there and watched as you walked away. A sigh left Johnny’s throat as he walked past him. Simon did somehow mirror this sigh, before leaving himself.

It was late when you found yourself in the common room again. Beth had some new company over, and they weren’t really decent about their hustles. It haunted you more than the roaring canons. So, you decided to stay on the couch for the night. You slept in worse places, the couch was still better than a lot of those. You only had the small light next to the couch on, while you were still in his clothing, your blanket draped over your body. As you mindlessly typed a message into your phone. König sent you a picture of him and his teammate some time ago, asking how you’ve been, and you still hadn’t responded. So now was a good time for it. Now was two in the morning. You sighed as you realized, your sleep schedule was more messed up than ever. Your head fell back onto the couch when you heard steps. They became louder and in the dim light you couldn’t really see, who was approaching the room. But soon you could see the familiar statue with the soft skull balaclava standing next to the couch. Somehow absently, nearly disoriented. Something so uncommon for him.

“Simon?” Your voice was soft, not wanting to scare him but he instantly turned on his heels. His exhausted eyes pinned on your figure. He looked as confused as you. “Everything alright?” you asked softly sitting up from the couch and facing him properly. He now stood in front of the couch and shrugged. His shoulders lower than you were used to.

“’st wanted to get some tea...” A sigh left his throat. He seemed so tense. He definitive didn’t just come here for some tea. “What are ya doin’ here?” He pinched the bridge of his nose before looking down at you.

“Neighbor is a bit too noisy. So, I thought of sleeping here instead.” You chuckled a bit exhausted. You could literally sleep on a helo, but not while two people would have passionate sex in the room next to you. He nodded, the exhaustion clinging to his shoulders. It made you worry. He always comforted you; you could always reach out to him. But he still was somehow so distant. Nothing you’d push, but still you’d wish he would let you in. Sometimes a little push into the cold water could do wonders…maybe…

"Do you truly trust me?" You suddenly threw the blanket to the side and stood up from the couch, slowly approaching him as your hand reached out to gently wrap around his wrist once more, examining his tired eyes. Looking for any hints of discomfort. His senses were overwhelmed as you touched him again, by the closeness of your body, the warmth of your hand, your gentle touch. He didn’t know what you were up to, still he did trust you, so he only nodded. With that you moved a bit closer. Only a tiny gap separating your bodies when your hand found his. Fingers wrapping around his. He wanted this for himself, but he couldn't accept it, yet he didn't deny it, didn't try to escape your embrace. His brain reminded him how good it felt to have you close to him. Just like this morning. The selfish aching too huge to feel it again. Your eyes never leaving his as you moved backwards, back to the couch step by step and pulling him with you. He followed your figure. Glance pinned onto those deep brown orbs, still searching if his eyes screamed for escape out of this, but they didn't. Those dark eyes starred into yours with nothing than trust and a hint of curiosity or was it hope?

You slowly lowered yourself back onto the long part of the couch, dragging him down with you. You didn't even realize what you were doing. You were on autopilot, following what your heart desired. Was it inappropriate? Was it too much? You didn't care, you just wanted to provide him with the feeling of comfort and safety he did for you all the time.

Your body completely lowering itself on the couch and pulling him on top of you. He was hesitant, but still he followed your lead. Laying his head just below your chest on your stomach. His brawn body between your legs as you pulled your blanket over both of you with your free hand. He was stiff, didn't dared to move and his heart pounded in his chest, still he clung to your hand, not wanting to let go. You could feel his chest vibrating against your body, the beating of his heart strong and nearly painfully fast. Yours was steady, you couldn't even believe yourself how calm you were. Maybe it was because you finally accepted your fate, your emotions. Maybe it was because you knew he needed you now. Or at least you wished that he would.

"Just relax." Your voice soothing calm. Letting your hand trace lazy circles on his back, while breathing in those different layers of scents radiating from him. He lowered himself, letting his complete weight down on you, relaxing his tense muscles and sunk completely into you. Simon pulled you even closer, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this way for once in his life, his free hand searched your waist while the other still held on to the one that dragged him straight into heaven. His nightmares haunted him, his trauma kept him awake at night, but you chased the demons away. For once he allowed himself to enjoy this, to rest, laying in your embrace. To let the cold the wall of ice around his soul had created melt away. He closed his eyes, listening to your steady heartbeat. A melody so soothing. Breathing in your scent, feeling the soft fabric of his own hoodie on your body. God, he wished you would wear it more often. He loved the view of you in his clothes. He loved the way your scent clung to it afterwards. He loved the way your touch felt even through his clothes. After the warmth of the hug this morning, after you pulled him close now, he was scared that he would grow addicted to it. He didn't want to admit it, but he loved the way you made him feel. The way you made Simon feel. The sound of your breathing, of your heart slowly lulled him into a deep and peaceful slumber and just like that, you drifted away yourself. The cold finally left the last fibers of your body with him being the coziest weighted blanket you'd ever had.

taglist: open

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain @anothersimpsblog @backupgal @hungryhungariann @victoriazynui

[starwarmth]

i feel like other countries often make fun of americans for claiming heritage because it doesn’t “count” but they don’t understand the natural, day-to-day displacement. your ancestors come from somewhere and the minute you want to connect because you’re everything and nothing, so you decide you want to be everything rather than nothing, everyone has cruel things to say to you and how your family’s history doesn’t matter. that it’s your citizenship that matters, even though your history and your neighbor’s history are completely different. me and my neighbor can bond over our shared citizenship, and we do. but we can’t bond over a shared history, because his people come from india and wales and turkey and korea, and the neighbor next to him has ancestors from bulgaria and nigeria and your people are both irish and ashkenazi. maybe you don’t know them, because they assimilated, or were stolen, or left their past behind. but you are them, and you want to know them, because you came from somewhere, from someone, and you want to feel a connection.

you want a family.

a lot of the american experience is displacement, i feel, unless you’re native american, and you’re STILL displaced because this is your land, the land of your people, and it was taken from you.

and folks could say “okay then go to the place of your ancestors” but you’re not like your ancestors anymore, because they left. you’re american now, you grew up in america, with a set of values, dialect, jokes, understandings, that all are related to the specific region in which you were raised. but that doesn’t mean that you appeared out of the blue, with nothing and no one attached to you. you still have vestiges, and you want to know them.

because, being american, there’s the choice of being either everything or nothing. and everyone wants you to be nothing, because how can you be everything. it’s very easy, in some strange way, to be everything. because someone fell in love with another and had a child and to them that child was everything. and it feels wrong to say that you’re nothing, because then those people who had a past, who raised you and loved you, who made you everything—then they were nothing. and they weren’t nothing.

[writing-whump]

Been here for a while, enjoying your fics. ❤️

Could you consider to write something including post - concussion emeto? Maybe with Matthew, because who else would be hit 😅

Greetings,

A.

Hello A.! I'm so happy you are enjoying yourself, that's super sweet! ❤️ Thank you so much for the request! Ran away from me a little but includes what you wanted :D I'm very honoured.

This one's crying, the other's sick

Seline is upset and crying. Matthew comforts her, when it turns out he came home with a concussion.

There will be no direct trains because of construction work. You can take the bus and the train connection, but we can't guarantee your way if either is delayed.

Just great. Exactly what she needed for the travel home to see her parents.

Seline knew she was freaking out for no reason. This fact didn't make it any easier to not do it.

Her life has always been divided into two places. Bratislava and Vienna. Home and school, parents and friends, Slovak and German.

She knew and her parents knew that her life was heading into the direction of Vienna - more money, more prestige, the use of languages. Slovakia was a nice home, but everyone who had any sense, ambition and knew just a bit of English moved out for college and never returned.

But Seline doubted as many people had such a good relationship with their parents. That's why she wasn't moving out even after 10 years of travelling. She even felt sorry for all her classmates and colleagues, many of which had to move to Vienna at 18 for university. Without parents and roots and childhood friends. Independence and adult responsibilities. Or were they proud of it? Was it a good thing they couldn't be children for that long?

When she asked her friends from countries farther away, like Bulgaria or Italy, they said it was fine. That they couldn't imagine living with their parents again or still. That it was nice to live alone.

Maybe they just didn't like being around them as much as Seline. Having such close relationship with your own mother was from what Seline could see, quite the exception. Her mother was her most trusted friend, her confidante, her idol and advisor. Seline's friends didn't call their mothers for two hours a day and they didn't visit every weekend and they didn't...

Seline wouldn't have moved out if it wasn't for the fights with her younger brother. And because she got good work at the university as an assistant, but that was running out. Every year was a risk of not getting the contract prolonged. She considered studying another master degree, cause as long as she was a student, they were more likely to keep her. Graduated non-students were more expensive because of taxes. PhD students were the most risky, cause they go no funding without an actual job at a project or faculty. And those were all temporary, only for a limited amount of years. Not to mention the law in Austria that you couldn't work at the same university more than 8 years on temporary contracts, which was supposed to protect university staff. Except the universities, instead of employing people without temporary contracts, didn't employ them at all, until they came with a few years of foreign experince. Go for a two years to England. Or France. Or anywhere else. Uproot yourself and maybe we will get you back.

Very family friendly.

So it somehow happened that Thursday morning she found out that her train for Friday to visit her parents would take 1.30h instead of 50 minutes and because the bus could be late and the train that you should change after wouldn't wait in the case it was, meant she would be straned somewhere in Parndorf.

So she would have to take the train before, that was direct and safe, which meant she would travel for an hour earlier, miss the connection she would have if the train were normal, wait two hours at the main station in Bratislava to get to her parents house. Her house. Whatever it was.

This would normally not anger her to the point of tears, but it was about a week before her period, so PMS was hitting her hard.

She didn't want to go to the train sooner. Or wait at the station because she missed the direct beautiful train that would get her to the home town near Bratislava.

She could take a taxi and pay more. Or take her own car. But Seline hated driving. It was stressful and fearsome and horrible responsibility and each bigger car or faster driving car made her jump in her seat in deadly fear. Her father would scoff at her for being so panicked about it. That she should drive more to get rid of it.

Well. Because of the fear, her main goal was not to drive.

Either with time with the train, with money with the taxi or with effort and nerves with the car. Nothing was for free.

She left her car at her parents anyway. Didn't need it in Vienna with all their great public transport connections. It was a relief she didn't gave to consider going with a car and no one could guilt her into using it.

She had two roomates who liked driving and cars. But she couldn't exactly ask them for a 1 hour long drive on the highway to Bratislava to see her parents.

Isaiah didn't complain about her visiting her parents during weekends. Since their schedules at university weren't packed, they had most Mondays free and other days during the week with only one seminar or online class here and there and could be together.

Seline loved not having to commute. To stay in bed until 11, talk with Isaiah over lunch, take a walk in the park or by the river and go to a seminar at 5 in the evening, meet with friends after or a bit before. Leisure nice days. Working 8-5 terrified her. She loved the flexibility, the way she could rule her time, do homework or write essays whenever she felt like, write stories and her poems whenever she was inspired, listen to music till 2 in the morning or binngewatch series all evening.

Though evening were usually reserved for movie nights with the whole trio. She loved those too.

Standing between two worlds was always a trait of hers. Something she was at peace at. But deciding between one home or the other, one city or the other and the time between pained her still, or even more so, after 10 years of back and forth.

If she could just buy that two generational house somewhere close to Vienna, on the fringes of the city and have them all there. Travel would take 20 minutes with the subway, her parents and her pack would be at the same place and they could have a view on the fields and not on the people and noise filled buildings of the city...

Except her parents still worked in Bratislava, and her grandmother and her uncle lived there and their families lived there and...and her parents didn't even speak German.

She could go back and live in Slovakia. She would get a high paid job just for speaking German and English so well. Lots of her friends from primary school did that. Those that didn't leave for France, US, Belgium or as far as Australia, that is.

She never saw her future in Bratislava. Not with the communist looking buildings and shabby streets and corrupt government and horrible health care. But she grew up around fields, open sky and on the train. City life was culturally shocking.

Seline walked back and forth on her floor, stamping her feet in anger. She let the frustrated tears loose, no one was home. Updating her train app if the connections didn't change after all didn't bring any new results for the 5th time.

She ended up in the hall, by the stairs, leaning against the wall. Today was a good day to wallow in self-pity as any. Hugging her knees, she cried quietly, half-realizing she was just being dramatic and the situation wasn't half as bad as her riled up emotions would have her believe.

"Whoa, hey. Are you crying for real?"

Seline almost jumped out of her skin at Matthew's tone, shooting up to her feet. "W-what are you doing here?!"

Matthew stood on the last step of the steps next to her. His knuckles were still wrapped in white bandages, so must have been boxing and returned sooner. He was gripping the railing tight and looked pale and tired, but the sarcastic tone and raised eyebrow chased her worries away. "I live here. Duh."

"T-that's my floor." She hurriedly rubbed at her face to get rid of the moisture. "I didn't hear you arrive."

"You were...preoccupied," Matthew said dryly. "So what's up? Did something happen? Should I go beat someone up?"

Seline chuckled despite the tears and her emberassment for him to catch her like this. "No. That's really sweet, but not at all necessary."

Matthew gave her a dubious look, then crouched down on the ground next to her, sliding down the wall slowly. "Something must have happened."

"Nothing happened. I'm just being silly." She waved his concern away, trying to smile.

"Uhm. Do you want me to call Isaiah?"

"No!"

Matthew blinked at her vehemence.

Seline ran her hands through her hair and sat down back next to him, back against the wall. "Nothing happened. It would just worry him."

"If he could comfort you, I'm sure he would be happy to worry. Maybe I just can't say what you need to hear."

"It's fine. Seriously. I'm overreacting because of hormones. Nothing is wrong." She flushed a little, realzing she said hormones, but when Matthew didn't laugh or say she was a hysterical girl, her shoulders slumped in relief and she relaxed a little.

"I didn't realize you two were so similar. Always such a put together front," Matthew commented, looking away with a sigh.

"You really want to hear my stupid reason?" She showed him the screen of her phone, too quickly for him to focus without realizing. "The trains won't be running at the time I wanted to go home tomorrow. I will have to leave early and wait up till my parents come home for them or take a risky train-bus connection that doesn't have to work out."

Stunned silence. "Can't you just drive?"

"No, I can't just drive," she said, annoyed. "I hate driving and I don't have my car here and you can go and say how this is my fault for not overcoming myself with the car and-"

"Fine, I give up." Matthew put his hands up in surrender. "You have a total right to hate driving. You want me to drive you?"

"I-" Seline spluttered for air. "I-I can't ask that of you-"

"Well, you aren't asking, I'm offering," Matthew said with a shrug. "I can drive you to your parent house and then go back. Your trains will work on Sunday, right? I can pick you up at the station."

Seline crossed her arms on her chest, avoiding his gaze. "It's just this one time. I can take the trains normally, the timing fits well, with them coming home and all. Just this once." Shouldn't she invite him over when he drives her that long? She didn't invite him or Isaiah to meet her family yet.

"It's no problem," he said tiredly. "Stop defending it like I'm moving a mountain for you. If you told this to Isaiah, even hinted at it, he would offer the same."

Seline nodded, eyes overflowing with tears again, this time from how touched she was. Seriously, today was such a stupid day. She was crying for everything. "Thank you."

"Oi. What now?" Matthew said, a little exasperated. He turned to her, wrapping his bandaged hand around her elbow and then pushed her forward against his chest.

Seline melted at the contact, pressing her crying face against his chest. Matthew enclosed his arms around her, practically dragging her to sit in his lap as he held her. She sat with her side and arm against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is just over emotion. Don't worry," she said reassuringly as his hug tighthened.

He sighed into her hair.

She laughed nervously against his ear, chin on his shoulder, wanting to fill the silence with something. "No way I want Isaiah to see me like this. Giant minus point, to have such an emotional girl on his hands. He would be running for the hills."

Matthew snorted. "But you don't mind me seeing?"

"You won't break up with me," she said with a half-broken smile.

"He wouldn't either."

"Not on the first time. But on the fifth time? Tenth time? I better not give him more difficult times if I can help it, before he starts counting."

Matthew shook his head. She could feel the movement against her face as she closed her eyes. "No one is counting. That's not what couples do."

"Oh really? It's all I'm doing. Counting how much we are giving each other and if it's still ends up in mutual benefit."

She could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. "I don't think it's supposed to work like that. It's not a business deal."

"It's very similar. I have to be pretty enough, attractive enough, smart and entertaining so when I really really need something, I can get a favour and not waste on something stupid and minor like this-"

"Isaiah would run himself to the ground caring for you and never think of something like that."

"Well, that's just because he is kind and selfless and so self-sacrifacing towards everyone. Doesn't make me any special."

Seline frowned. "I love you."

Matthew leaned forward, his face in his hands, leaving her with the view on his back. "You think emotion doesn't play any role? People aren't just a list of plus and minus traits. You feel something about them too. If everyone was so strick as you say, I wouldn't make the list for anyone."

There was a beat of silence.

Matthew jerked underneath her, looking up, face going all red. "What? Where did that come from?"

"You are right." Seline shrugged. "I'm very rational about the whole dating thing, comparing and counting things, because I don't want the pink glasses to blind me to our compatability. But when it comes to friendships or family or...well, pack, it's all about feelings and I know what I feel. I love you. In the family sort of way."

Matthew rubbed his forehead, unsuccessfully trying not to blush. "You have never said it to Isaiah, you can't blurt it out like that to me."

Seline suspected there hadn't been enough people saying it to Matthew in general. "I love him too. But if we work out as a couple, I have to love him in that other, romantic way too. I'm not sure we are that far yet."

Yes, she was attracted to Isaiah. It's been very hard for her to fall in love, to respect let alone to admire someone else, so she was very happy she found him. And he was intelligent, thoughtful, considerate and he put so much effort into everything and she admired him for many things...but she never had such a long relationship, as she was not interested in dating in her teen years, and the inexperience was making her cautious.

Matthew shook his head, burying it in his hands once again. He was breathing all harsh and fast. She could feel his chest heave underneath her. She wrapped her hands around his neck, suprised at how sweaty he was and how weirdly pale...was he like that from the start?

"Hey, Matt-"

"You two should really," he gulped loudly, shuddering, "have a talk. Being this tense and counting around each other can't be- hrrrk-" he burped loudly, slamming a hand to his lips.

Seline retracted her arms back, putting one gently on his chest and the other on his stomach. He was still breathing so fast and his stomach was heaving, like it shriveled under her palms...and suddenly Matthew leaned to the side and gagged violently over her arms on the floor.

"Matt!" she yelped as his stomach heaved and he gagged again, this time bringing a mouthful of water. Seline rubbed his stomach, feeling it contract as he heaved the third time, this time bringing up a big wave of water. "What's wrong with you? Are you- did you- you were feeling sick the whole time?"

Matthew spat onto the ground, giving a full-body shudder. "Sorry. I just..."

"Is this some kind of flu? Did you eat something bad?" Crisis always brought a calm over her, making her practical. She could feel her mind clearing from trivial concerns, emotions in the backround.

"Not really. My sparrring partner got a really good hit to my head today...I guess I was feeling a little light-headed since then." He blurred his words together a little and he was still that sickly pale.

"Wait, you mean to tell me you are concussed?" She tried to scramble away from his lap, not wanting to add weight to his misery. He was feeling sick and dizzy from a hit to the head and let her blabber on?

He tighetned his hold again, squeezing her against him, hanging his head on her shoulder. "Sorry...can I just...I don't really want to move." He smiled crookedly. "I can't believe I survived climbing up the stairs."

"Matt, you silly fool. You should have said something." She threaded her fingers through his hair, looking for a bump. "Did you heal yourself?"

"A little. Didn't really stop hurting all the way. And my, ehmm, ears are ringing a little." He winced at her touch but didn't pull away.

"Come on, you should get some sleep." His head was basically limp on his neck, barely holding himself up. She figured he could sleep since he healed himself with this shadow. It must have been the symptoms that remained. "You can stay in my room, I can't really help with the stairs like Isaiah can. You will be more comfortable there, okay?" And they would get away from the mess on the floor.

Coaxing Matthew to unwrap himself took another 5 minutes. She held him under the elbow, trying to stabilize him, but they both knew he was too big for her to hold his weight, should he fall. He stumbled the few steps to her bedroom, holding onto the wall and her for support.

He basically collapsed on her favourite pillow, squeezing his eyes in a painful way that cued her in on the light. She closed the curtains on the windows and fetched a wash-basin from the bathroom, then climbed into the double bed with him.

"Hmmmm...Do I have too many minus points for vomiting to get another hug today?" Matthew mumbled sleepily, rolling to his side as she adjusted the covers over him.

"You are such an idiot," she said fondly, wiggling herself under his arm, face against his chest. It was a warm, comfortable position for her too.

"You sure Isaiah won't mind?"

Seline chuckled. "From you, he won't. My guess? He will end up sleeping here today too." She kissed the top of his forehead. "The basin is right next to you. Tell me if you feel sick again. Should I get you a painkiller?"

"Nah. Can't stomach it right now. Just stay."

It warmed something inside her that he wanted her so close, that he might have hugged her the first time for his comfort as well. Or maybe just for her. He was such a marshmellow, it was a shame it only came out when he was feeling sick.

@bellysoupset

[l-homme-triste-qui-rit]

Когато си хоум офис, работиш с френски език и изведнъж чуеш позната и любима френска песен, идваща право от строежа на кооперацията отсреща. Е нямаше как да не надам ухо... 👂🏽 🇫🇷 😌

[kas-e]

Countryside in bloom.  Somewhere in the mountains of Bulgaria.  

[teatitty]

My little headcanons of what I think some of the witcher characters are [IE: polish, english, danish etc] based on the vibes they give me and some of their name conventions

Geralt: Polish. He's the main character of the novels it just makes sense to me that he'd be the most polish of everyone

Vesemir: Slavic as fuck. I put him down as Serbian but you could make a good argument for any of the slavic countries really

Lambert: German. Based purely on vibes

Eskel: Nordic. I lean more to him being Danish if we want to get specific but you can put him anywhere so long as he's nordic. His name comes from an old norse word and I know Witchers like Geralt and Vesemir name themselves but I like to think Eskel kept his on lock

Coen: Flemish. He just seems belgian to me I can't explain it

Cirilla: Her name is likely of Greek descent, coming from Cyril, since Calanthe is also a name stemming from Ancient Greek, so Greek Ciri real to me

Dandelion: Welsh. I've said this before but Wales has a huge yearly festival where they celebrate the arts such as poetry and music so it simply Fits for him. He's capable of mimicking many different accents though

Yennefer: Yenn was a hard one to pin down but in the end I thought somewhere in the Southeast. Serbia, Slovenia, Bulgaria, Moldova etc she'd fit with any of those I think

Triss: She was relatively easy. Triss comes from Beatrice which itself is derived from the latin "beatus" and Merigold is Marigold which comes from middle english "mary + gold" so Triss is from england but she's Cornish <3 her and Dandy can be brittonic language besties

Regis: Hard as it is for me to say this that man is French as fuck

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

What's your favorite rare fact about ships/shipwrecks? Like one most people don't know?

oh oh oh!!! i know exactly which one fits this anon!!!

off the top of your head, how old do you reckon the oldest shipwreck ever found is?

since its most peoples reference point, titanics wreck is 111 years old. the vasa is just under 400 years old. mary rose is nearing 500 years. (both of these have since been raised to the surface)

so like, how old is the oldest?

2400 years old

this ship sank before alexander the great was born and the wreck is intact

[photo id: a digital map of the ship that was created by two ROVs after surveying her]

we dont know exactly where she is, but shes laying on her side over 2000m down somewhere off the coast of bulgaria.

(the exact position is unlikely to be released publically to deter vandalism or theft.)

shes known as the greek trading ship and shes incredibly well preserved due to the anoxic nature of the water in the black sea. [x]

its insane to me that it fucking exists????? like this shipwreck is around 2400 years old and shes better preserved than the titanic wreck is.

like just look at the picture again and remember, this ship sank before alexander the great was born. it makes me go feral like i want to crawl along the ceiling and bite the concept of time.

so yeah, heres a fun fact for when you want to break someones brain for a bit :D

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

The Death Eater sign they have on their arm (sorry, not a native speaker idk its proper term) is probably also ingrained on their soul or something since it can't be removed. But what if a Death Eater lost their arm with the sign, would it automatically reappear somewhere else on their body? Or only when activated by someone like Tom? Or will it still summon them but they themself can't use it since there's no longer a physical manifestation for them to use? I know this is not in the source text but what is your idea how that sign works?

Previously on this blog, why the Dark Mark even exists.

The thing is we don't know.

We don't see Death Eaters with missing arms who tried to get rid of it. We just know that Lucius wasn't able to get rid of his and had to falsify being under the imperious curse, Snape couldn't get rid of his even when he got a position at Hogwarts and had to wear long sleeves forever, Peter couldn't get rid of his when he was living as a rat, and Karkaroff never got rid of his even when he ran away.

There was more than one person canonically who wanted it gone, some desperate enough to try, one desperate enough to try to make his escape canonically, but for whatever reason couldn't get rid of it.

What we do know is that Karkaroff died.

We don't know how, only that it was reportedly in Bulgaria and Bulgaraia wasn't far enough. We don't know what he tried, if he tried to cut off his arm and couldn't, if he couldn't do something like that though he knew he had to, if he cut off his arm and it made no difference, or if Tom didn't find him via the dark mark at all.

However, it seems to me given the speed with which he was disposed of, the ease of it... Karkaroff didn't get that mark off and the way he was acting, he was probably desperate enough to chop it off.

On the other hand, You-Know-Who didn't seem to know or care where Regulus's body ended up until he realized all his horcruxes were gone. (Or, perhaps, he did know but he assumed Regulus just got eaten by zombies and not by horcruxes).

Given Karkaroff though, I think you can't get rid of it, and it can certainly be used to track you as well as summon you at a moment's notice. The mark itself may simply be just how it shows up on the skin, but not the magic itself, which as you note is likely attached to you as a person.

[thecolorblr]

Somewhere in Bulgaria

[dreamsequencermusic]

I recently went back to the my old hometown in Bulgaria. The place where I grew up. The place where made my first friend, fell in love and spent 23 years of my life in total.

It was unrecognizable, to say the least. Most of the houses and buildings are in f**king ruins, including mine. There's like 200 people left in it. No one seems to care. Time has stopped somewhere in the 90s. It's dying.

I felt a mixture of nostalgia, sadness and pure anger. I couldn't help but shed a tear or two even. Such a shame. The village has a great geolocation, next to the Danube river and rich roman history.

So much potential, wasted. But it's okay. That's entropy, I guess, that's life. All good things come to an end eventually, and my lovely Vrav is not an exception. This tune is an attempt to keep the memory of it a bit longer.

Here's some more info on it, if anyone's interested: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vrav https://www.selo-vrav.com/

Peace.

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