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nicolesainz · 4 months

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kiss kiss bang bang (SV5) - part 2 from “Tricks and champions”

Sebastian Vettel x f!reader

Author’s note: Thanks to the lovely comments I received from @maverick-mwah the seb one shot will have a second part. I dearly appreciate the love you showed for this fic!

Warnings: smut, minors dni, 18+, age gap, hints of fluff, major daddy issues, aftercare, taking her virginity, its pure porn!

Summary: After the wild ride you had with Seb, the visits at your house don't stop. Especially when your parents aren't home either. This leads Seb to control you since vulnerability has taken over.

My parents decided to fly away to Spain for the week in order to celebrate their anniversary. It's very sweet that my father still deeply cares about mum after all these years of marriage. That's how all couples should be.

People my age, having an empty house like mine, would definitely use it in order to invite friends and party until very early the next morning. Or get fully wasted with a mix of drinks. Which was my original plan. And yet, I don't really regret how things turned out.

The first night being alone sled by lonely and boring. I ordered some food and had a marathon of The Office, followed by a small concert with all of Taylor Swift's songs. In an empty house, almost in the middle of nowhere in Germany, activities are limited. Or so I thought.

"You need to come to the party. Don't be a buzzkill now." My best friend said over the phone as I was cleaning the mess of a room I have. I usually am up for any available party but I just wasn't in the mood. I would rather drink my feelings away than dress up in uncomfortable heels.

"Sorry bae, not in the mood. Plus, I am feeling a bit unwell. Probably was the Chinese food I had last night." This was a lie, obviously. I was perfectly fine, plainly bored.

"Do you want me to come over? Do you need any help girl?" There's an apparent worry in her voice, which I am trying to dodge very quickly.

"Thank you lovely but I will be alright. Go have fun and text me if anything occurs." I reassure her genuinely touched with her worry.

"I will but if you need me for anything I will rush to you. Take care y/n." We exchange our goodbyes and hang up.

It's a very gloomy day and the house is very quiet. Going to this party was probably my only chance to hook up with someone just to remove Sebastian from my thoughts. Which has become impossible after the ride we had two weeks ago.

After the tricks in the circuit, wherever I look, he is there. Either in real life or in my imagination. I imagine him inside the shower with me, in between my thighs, on my bed.

Literally fucking everywhere.

Last week, at the annual Sunday dinner my family hosts with Sebastian, he was caressing my thigh under the table, as he was casually chatting with my father. It was probably a bad idea to wear that short skirt.

I decide to take matters into my own hands and fully clear out my bed, lay a towel, light up some vanilla scented candles and finish the job by myself so I can take off the thought of Sebastian from my mind.

I put on a complication of his 'dirtiest' team radios where he curses every time either in English or German, dropping sexual hints while he is frustrated.

I plug in my AirPods and put the video on replay until I manage to finish. I put some lube on my fingers and start rubbing it against my pussy. The moment Seb's voice echoes inside my ears, I feel a wave of pleasure taking over me, as slight groans come out of my mouth.

Along with Sebastian's voice, I moan some 'fuck'' and 'shit' as I slide and pump my fingers inside my wet self in a faster pace. My womanhood clenches around my fingers although the desperation in my voice shows how needy I am of Sebastian.

"Jesus Seb." I let out during the thought that my fingers are Sebastian's, pushing me to my limits.

I open my eyes slightly only to be met with a blurry figure of a blonde haired man. I was so obsessed with Sebastian that I was hallucinating.

And yet I wasn't.

He was indeed in the room.

Watching me masturbate with the help of his voice.

I panicked instantly and pulled the covers on top of my body, trying to hide from the feeling of embarrassment and Sebastian's gawking eyes that were scanning me from head to toe.

"So when the cats are away, the mice come out and play. Or in your case, simply come." He jokes around with a massive smirk plastered on his face.

"I-it's not what it looks like, I was, uh" I didn't know how to excuse my actions.

"And yet it so is what it looks like." He rolls his eyes but immediately looks back at me, licking his lips.

"Okay fine, you caught me in a vulnerable moment. I have needs but no boyfriend to satisfy me. I would've gone to a party just to release my frustration but better safe than sorry." I don't know why I said all those things to Sebastian but for some reason I open up to him more easily.

Literally and figuratively.

"So it was very difficult for you to think of me, right?" He exclaims but quickly silences himself as the audio from my phone hasn't paused and the cursing is loud and clear.

He looks around the room to see from where this sound is coming from and when he notices I am trying to mute my phone, he grabs it from my hands and takes a lot at the content amused.

"So you were thinking of me. Just not calling me but simply replacing me."

Sebastian kneeled down to my height and removed the covers from my legs. My panties were still wrapped around my thighs and small hints of wetness were apparent. No shame took over me. Which was oddly weird.

"You know I am here for you if you ever need me, baby. For anything." He positions my body right in front of his face, looking me deeply into my eyes with such innocence, yet I knew that none of his following actions were gonna be the same.

"It's not right Sebastian. You're twice my age and a friend of my father's. You are a person I admire, not someone I should be thinking of in that way." That was the moment where I felt truly ashamed of myself but with a few words, Sebastian made me feel like what was going to happen between us is the most right thing in the world.

"Admiring someone doesn't necessarily mean you can't love them or want them in any other way. I know the kind of girl you are, Y/n. You've literally confessed to me your entire love life, pleading for a man that will treat you right and be there for you."

I didn't know if I wanted to cry or smile at his words. I was right there in front of him, spread legs and needy of a mans touch. He barely looked down at my womanhood or removed his eyes from mine. I needed a man who could bring the best of both worlds.

He was right in front of me.

"I need you Seb. Madly. I can't get you out of my head. Help me." I cooed softly, my desperation is clearly showing more than it should.

"All I will ask is, are you willing to let me take care of your need 100% dear? Because there is no going back after that." The fact that he asked me for reassurance and didn't throw himself at me the moment I begged him, proved to me that no man can be like Sebastian.

"I trust you blindly." I put my forehead softly against his and he instantly captures my lips into a soft kiss, full of reassurance, trust and emotion. His hands are on the sides of my thighs, holding against them firmly and climbing on top of my body feeling more of his warmth.

Sebastian's piercing blue eyes focus on the rhythm of my breathing that is being patterned on the mannerism the way by breasts bounce up and down. I can feel myself blushing given that no matter how many men have looked this tensely at me, only he can cause butterflies to my stomach.

With one arm, he removes his t-shirt, revealing a very well fitted 36 year old on whose body I want to lay my hands on and worship like he is a greek god. I softly trace the V-line on top of his belt and the kiss becomes even more tense with a simple touch.

"You don't know what you're doing to me." He mumbles against my lips as he is trying to unbuckle his belt and get rid of the trousers that are hiding from my sight the hardened erection I caused.

"Then show me." I so easily say, yet I don't know the mix of pain and pleasure I am about to experience because of my actions. Sebastian grunts and with my help, his trousers are on the floor and I can feel against my wet unclothed pussy his erected cock.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and stands up, in the process of which he is picking me up as well. My breathing becomes harder as he takes my top off and now we are semi naked in front of each other. Only a few barriers which in a few seconds are gone. I strap off my bra slowly, revealing my breast to his sight.

"You are beautiful. Absolutely mesmerising. My god" he sighs and kneels in front of me. I am absolutely shocked by what he is doing. I feel his hands holding firmly my thighs and in matters of seconds his lips on my pussy, eating me up like a starved man. His tongue flicking against my clit, sending euphoric vibration at my entire body.

"Fuck, Seb" I moan uncontrollably as he keeps feasting on the juices that are covering my womanhood and his jaw. My fingers tangle on his blonde curls, pulling them slightly as I am trying with all my willpower not to crush his face with my trembling thighs.

My head falls back and my moans become louder and louder as Sebastian slowly removes his his mouth from my pussy and slams it against mine, while inserting his index and middle finger inside my wetness.

"So innocent and yet you're clenching around my fingers like a needy whore." His fingers are pumping inside me in quite a fast pace but just the perfect one to send me into fucking oblivion. My fingers are scratching his back like a wild animal.

"I need to cum, Seb, please." I have never begged anyone for anything in my life and yet, another first time of mine had just been ticked off the box with the help of Sebastian. He applies a bit more pressure to my very swollen pussy, by using his thumb to play along with my clit.

"Then do so baby. All over my fingers." The moment he says it, I release immediately along with a tense groan from both of us. God that felt amazing. Sebastian grabs me back, laying me on the bed, knees weaker than wooden sticks but surely needy for more.

"I need you to be fully sure of what is about to happen darling. Allow me?" My heart drops to my stomach with his words. A few minutes ago he was fucking me with his fingers with such ease and now he is asking for permission.

Best of both worlds.

"There is no man on this earth I trust more than you, Seb. Yes, I am fully aware." I reply with a kind smile on my face, reassuring him that he is the only man I need and want.

His lips connect with mine once more, although this time the kiss was more meaningful than anything. It was me showing Sebastian that I trust him with something so sacred and fragile but something I would only want him to have.

His fingers are toying with my nipples while his mouth is occupied with my neck, trying to leave as many hickies humanly possible. I do not mind at all, though I will need many formulas of makeup to hide his mess.

"Can I touch you?" I quietly ask him as he still was wearing his underwear that were trying to hold on his frustrated cock. I was so afraid of asking him such a thing even though it wouldn't be my first time touching a man.

"Your touch is what I am craving." He grabs my hand and places it on top of his edged bulge that wants to be taken care of. Having his confirmation, I remove the barrier, the boxers, in swift movements, with his cock springing out.

I wrap my hands around his erection, feeling the hints of pre cum on the tip, I spread the minimum liquid all over, pumping him slowly and teasingly sliding him through my wet folds, causing him to moan on the crook of my neck.

"Jesus baby. I need you." He blurts out and my excitement reaches extremely high levels. When I feel Seb's body lowering on me, I remove my hands from his cock and hold on against his butt. In very slow movements, Sebastian slides himself inside me, as softly as he can, whilst I am trying to adjust to his size.

Sebastian has filled me up entirely and my pussy has been stretched to its limits. He tried to play safe at first with slow trusts that would help him find my sweet spot. Tears of exhaustion and pleasure were covering my eyes.

Suddenly, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into me, pushing my limits to the maximum and earning multiple moans of his name along the way. The room smells sex. The air smells sex. He and I smell like sex.

"Oh my Seb." I moan as if there is no tomorrow, shamelessly, giving him the satisfaction of achieving to make the first time of a woman better than half of the female's population. Not even better. Heavenly good.

"This is for you. All for you my good girl."

#sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x you

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gurlbesimpin · 9 months

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ppl stop writing for Heisenberg... how about our magnetto man with a punk/alternative SO??

OUHHHH yessssss!

pairing: Karl Heisenberg x GN!reader

{{note: I generally write REVillage fics Post-canon/alternate universe, assuming Ethan and rose, Mia etc. never existed sry XD}}

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of gore, very mild sexual themes

Ohoho where do I begin?

Karl when he first spots you is... intrigued to say the least.

You weren't like the others, you dressed differently, acted differently, and most importantly... you weren't like the other villagers, blindly following and worshipping Miranda!

Now, Karl being Karl... he thought about pulling his usual BS about "I'm a metal lord, fear me!" but quickly decided against it; not wanting to scare you off or anything. Especially since you didn't seem local, therefore not knowing who the fuck he is.

{and pshhh don't tell anyone i told you this, but despite his huge ego... he might not actually want you to know who he really is at first. So he'll try his best to act "normal" and as human as possible}

After he finally approached you and engaged in a regular conversation, he quickly finds himself craving more.

Long story short, he seeks you out in the village again the next day, inviting you over to his factory because... he didn't really have a house. Anyway, he wouldn't show you what he actually does in there... you two will be in his office on the first floor, he ain't taking you down into the actual factory until he is sure you won't freak out.

This "friend meeting" (totally not a date ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °) goes smoothly surprisingly. He'll ask you about your tattoos and/or piercings, scars etc. {if you have any}.

After a long-ass conversation about all kinds of shit, he'll just ask the question we've all been waiting for.

"So buttercup, you... eh... one of those emos?"

Time for the explanation between emo, goth, punk, rock. Two minutes into this, Karl stops listening... he got his answer.

You listen to heavy music.

And so does he.

Start talking about Metallica, Slipknot, I prevail, Rob Zombie, ACDC, black sabbath, Iron Maiden, Avenged Sevenfold, hell.... even SOME my chemical romance and Seether- and i promise, you'll get his attention piqued!

Especially if we're talking german bands such as "Rammstein" or "Die Toten Hosen" and he'll just... scream internally?

Like first of all... there's someone who also hates mother miranda besides him, they are funny, hot AND love german bands?!

SIGN HIM TF UP!

Needless to say, you two started a relationship quickly.

Despite needing to make his huge ass metal army, he takes a day off to make a bigass stereo...

{and then later that day Lady Dimitrescu complains about the loud ass music coming from his factory that even SHE and her three girls can hear from her castle. lol. Heisenberg tells her to shut the fuck up}

His huge goal is obviously to kill miranda... and then after escaping this shit village together with you. When the day comes, you two will celebrate with flipping off Lady supersized bitch and rolling off to a concert

{which likely isn't a good idea... imagine Karl wanting the microphone from the singer or something. You be chillin and there's just... a floating microphone... you be like... "Karl? what are YOU DOING?!" meanwhile Karl just has a shit eating grin as the crowd screams}

But let's not jump to far into the future...

Right now, you two are stuck under Miranda's disgusting-ass thumb.

Dark times man. It's shit, but whenever you waddle into his office whilst he's working... just y'know... get your phone out and play one of his favorite songs!

This man will {depending on his mood} shoo you away, or most-likely drop what he's doing and just... *grab* you and start juming around the room like monkies in a moshpit.

Once the song finishes, his hand will move from cupping your cheek, to cupping CHEEKS. Just him seeing you rock out to his favorite songs... is enough for Karl to get all hot 'n bothered. So expect some bending over the Work-bench and nice grindin' whilst 'Closer' by nine inch nails plays ;)

EXTRA:

if you like steampunk

this

man

will

just...

Scramble to collect little gears and screws... making little earrings, rings, necklaces etc.

also

stud bracelets.

and if you like wearing chokers

be careful

that awakens a beast within him

"oh ho ho buttercup! What do we have here? Want me to attach a leash and make you *my pet*?

#request #resident evil village #resident evil #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenburg fanart #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #re8 #re8 village #re8 x reader

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daphnasworld · 7 months

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originally I hadn't wanted to post anything about the current situation in Israel. Simply bc I wanted to use tumblr as a stress free place to distract myself. But i just saw someone I followed posting something horrible - and I have to say something about that.

Let me explain something first to you - I am german and jewish. I do not live in Israel but had been there a few times to see one of my grandmothers. You need to know that my paternal grandparents were jews living in Marocco but had to leave their home bc of antisemitism in the 60s, shortly before my father was born. Their families had lived in Marocco since ca the 1600. They had to pay nearly all of their money just so that they could afford to pay for the legal passports so that they could get on a boat and leave. As they were still scarred of Europe (bc of what happened in the 30/40s) and they didn't speak english they went to Israel. Simply bc they wanted to feel safe as jews (which btw isn't something common even today!). Anyway, my mothers family is german since forever - and christian. When my parents met my mother herself was still a christian. My father moved to germany and I was born and raised here. I speak hebrew rather bad and think all the time that I want to learn it but I always procrastinate. I am more of a cultural jew, but celebrate all the holidays with my family and eat more or less kosher (no pig, no crustations, i don't mix meat with milk products but I don't wait for hours after eating meat until i eat something with milk - mostly only a few minutes). Like many jews I got asked over the years if I would one day like to move to Israel. The answer is no. I am german and I want to stay in Germany. The only reason I would leave germany would be if something like the holocaust would be happening again. And even then I would look at the whole world to determine where it would be the safest for me. The existence of Israel is a huge relief to me. Because I know that at least there I will always have a safe place to turn to - I can't say that about any other country in the world. In every other country it would be depending on their current government. That had always been the case throughout history since Israel was first taken from the jews.

Now that you know that about me on to the original point of this post. Someone basically posted that what's happening now (terrorists coming to israel, killing civillians, taking people hostage to gaza, filming how they get belittled, spit on, insulted, hit and hurt in other ways - all including tourists and non jews and children) wasn't bad but what Israel deserved. They claimed that no Israelis are civillians but members of the army (yes, even premature born babies) and therefor deserved what happened to them. Of course they were saying that Israelis and jews are the same (which isn't true - there are Muslem and christian and atheist Israelis, but of course thats being ignored). Claiming that all Israelis stole that land - while ignoring that jews had been living there even before there had been talks of bringing Israel back. Of course they also feed the believe that all Israelis are originally from Europe and white - which of course also not true.

Anyway that post basically ended with all Israelis deserve that because no one of them is a civilian and they are all murderers. This triggered me rather badly. Because when I had been only 14 yeq4s old classmates had called me a murderer because I was jewish. Back than I keeped being jewish rather private - it was known that I am jewish, but I didn't talk about it and I never talked about Israel or my family there. So it wasn't like I was that kid talking about the politics there or something. I also wasn't islamophobic. On the contrary, i spoke up if someone said something racist or bigoted and I was happy to have muslim classmates as they too didn't eat pig. Which was back than a big thing in germany. It was before we got all those vegetarian or vegan dishes. Especially were I lived the menus of most restaurants contained dishes to 80 % with pig meat. So it was great that I wasn't the only one not eating pig. Because i had been the only jew in my school. Anyway, one day in school my teacher for ethics class (bc in germany religion as a subject had been mandatory. But bc not everyone was christian there had been this special class called ethics were every non christian had to be in) said that it was time to talk about world religions. So why not talk about Islam and Judaism at the same time (bc to him there had been as good as no differences between both religions. It was only later that I realised that said teacher had been not only racist but also very antisemitic, but until then he had managed to hide it rather good). And suddenly it started, from one second to the next. I hadn't said anything but all of my muslim classmates except for two of them turned towards me and started to scream at me. It was horrifiyng. Until than I had only had to deal with right wing antisemitism but never from amy muslims but they were screaming at me, insulting me. Kids my age that five minutes before that had talked to me completly normal. I was totally frightened, as they were all so aggressiv and didn't stop. Especially one male student was horrible. The teacher hadn't done anything - he sat in his chair, looked at us and actually smiled. And all my non muslim friends in this class simply sat there quietly. Not shocked or scared - most of them even looked bored. 5 minutes before that I had believed to be in a safe space surrounded be friends - only to be alone and scared like never before. But what stayed most prominent out of all of it until today was the following: they were screaming that all jews are murderers. Including me, a 14 year old, that all of them knew for years. When asked why, they said simply bc the Isreali government killed people, all israeli politicians were jews and because of that all jews had to be murderes. That argument is of course absolute bullshit and makes no sense at all. But it was clear that this way of thinking had been teached all of them. How else would a bunch of teenagers get those thoughts? Of course they must have heard it somewhere. And they believed it with their whole being. No counter argument, no question asked, nothing could make them change their minds. They truly believed that to be the truth. And that was what scared me the most. Because they were already so aggressiv about it, screaming it unprompted, filled with hatred. I cried for the rest of that day. I was scared shitless of every single one of those screaming classmates. Years later at another school I met one of them again. I was still afraid of him, especially since afterwards I had informed myself more of the antisemitic as well as the political situation there and started to understand just how deep and wide spread that hatred was. And of course i tried to stay away from him until he asked me why I didn't like him. And guess what - he didn't remember it. Something that traumatised me to my bones had been an ordinary Tuesday for him.

You can critisize Israel all you want, because yeah, the government made mistakes. But they are not all evil. If you serioulsy believe that no Israeli is innocent (incl the children) and are even happy about what is happening there, than you are an antisemitic piece of shit and a horrible person.

#i stand with israel #racism #antisemitism

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phyllisthefirst · 2 months

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[Masterlist] [on ao3]

George Luz x OC

George and Phyllis finally meet again!

Warnings: Depictions of war, mentions of injury and death, blood.

Tagging: @next-autopsy, of course!

As always, this fic is entirely about the fictionalized representations of the men of Easy Company that we see on the show. I mean no disrespect to the real men by writing this.

No tired sigh, no rolling eye, no irony - Part 7

Jumping into Holland goes exactly according to plan and then completely off the rails.

Nuenen is a wake-up call after they’ve let themselves become complacent in Eindhoven, celebrating with the locals as if they’d already won the war. Nuenen, and the weeks following their hasty and humiliating retreat, make it very clear that that’s not the case.

Autumn in Holland is dreary and boring, long stretches of sitting around interrupted by the occasional skirmish with scattered German troops - until the battle at the crossroads happens, and a few Germans turn into two whole battalions of SS.

Afterwards, George is still busy figuring out if he's got all his limbs and no extra holes when he hears about battalion CP.

"Apparently, battalion CP got completely overrun, and they managed to hit battalion HQ as well, and pretty hard," he overhears Nixon telling Winters when he passes by them, and he can't help but stop and interject.

"How hard? I mean who..." He can't bring himself to outright ask about casualties, the word too final to say out loud.

"Apparently, Major Horton's dead. Apart from that, I haven't heard anything specific." Winters studies him for a moment with those piercing eyes of his, and something on George's face must have given away his racing thoughts. "Is there anyone in particular you want to know about? Someone you know at battalion HQ?"

George nods, and Winters' tired face softens a little.

"We could use a restock on our ammo. If you don't mind helping with supplies, Captain Nixon can take you over there when he links up with battalion."

Nixon seems momentarily surprised but then nods.

"Come on then, Luz. Let's find a jeep."

George is quiet on the drive over and glad that Nixon’s driving - he’s much too nervous to focus on the road. He only heard that Phyllis arrived in Holland two weeks ago, although this time he knew beforehand that she would be joining them here. Her words about staying far behind the line come back to him, the ones she tried to reassure him with when they met on the beach in Normandy.

George scoffs. So much for that.

She'd promised him the same thing again, in the note she had managed to deliver to him right before the Market Garden jump: That she'd follow behind them with some other battalion staff, but that she'd stay far behind the lines and provide a link between the front and the logistical centers in better secured areas.

And now here he is, racing towards an apparently overrun battalion HQ and hoping against hope that she won't be there.

When they arrive at battalion HQ, it's to find the place in absolute shambles.

Several buildings around the farm estate are badly damaged, walls crumbling and wooden beams smoldering. There’s debris strewn all over the courtyard, including a still-smoking Sherman tank. Even the bodies have not yet been buried, only hastily piled into a cart and covered with a tarp. Men are hastening about, trying to deal with half a dozen pressing matters at once. Some are bleeding though still on their feet, some being treated in a makeshift aid station in one of the less damaged buildings.

The highest ranking officer they can find is a very frazzled-looking Lieutenant.

“Major Horton's dead.”

“We know. Any other casualties?”

“Two more dead, a few injured - we’re still counting. Oh, and a few orderlies aren't accounted for yet." The way he adds it, like an afterthought, makes George's hackles rise.

"Is anyone searching for them?" He asks, aware that his tone is not the correct one for addressing a superior officer and not giving a damn.

"Do I look like I know what anyone is doing right now?"

George is about to snap that he looks like he should know, judging by the bars on his collar, but Nixon cuts him off before he can.

"Private Luz and I can organize a search. We aren't needed back with Easy just yet."

The Lieutenant gratefully accepts the offer and finally decides to be at least a little helpful.

"The non-combatants were sent away from the main building to that building on the other side of the estate. It has a cellar that's been used as a makeshift shelter. They might still be waiting there for the all-clear."

Nixon and George set off in the direction of the man's outstretched arm. The second they’re out of earshot, Nixon quips:

"You're welcome by the way - for keeping you from insulting an officer."

"I wasn't...How did you..." George sputters.

"You have a very expressive face." Nixon explains. They walk a few steps in silence. "I take it this is about that female orderly of Sink's? The logistics whiz?"

George feels a flash of pride at hearing Phyllis described as a "logistics whiz", makes a mental note to tell her she's built herself a reputation with a capable officer like Nixon - then he looks over and sees the gleam in the other man's eyes.

"It's not like that. She's a friend."

Nixon gives a nonchalant half-shrug.

"It's none of my business." Something in the not-quite-hidden smirk on the officer's face tells George that he doesn't fully mean the words, but then they've arrived at the farmhouse and their conversation stops short.

The left side of the building has collapsed, leaving behind nothing but a pile of rubble, parts of it still smoking softly.

"The cellar entrance could be in the back, or on the other side," Nixon says, all mirth gone from his voice. "Let's circle round."

George follows the instruction gratefully, trying hard to keep his mind absolutely empty and focused only on the task of finding any sign of the bomb shelter doors.

All too soon, he's made it to the back and runs into Nixon again, who's completed the circle from the other side. He shakes his head, too weak for words.

"Alright," Nixon says grimly, turning to walk back to the front of the building. "Let's start digging."

So they dig, moving bricks and shattered timber with their bare hands until they can hear something - voices, drifting up through the pile of rubble.

“You hear that? We must be getting close.”

George nods, not yet daring to believe Nixon’s right.

But it turns out he is: A few more handfuls of debris moved and they can see the trap door built into the side of the building that must be leading into the cellar. Half of it is collapsed, and through the hole in the wooden door, a dust-coated young man is peering up at them.

“Oh thank God, we were afraid we’d never get out.”

Quickly, they clear the door enough to heave it open and haul out the young man. He stumbles away while two more follow, one holding the other up with an arm over his shoulder, and then… nothing.

“Where’s Phyllis?” George calls after them. One ignores him, the other one turns and gestures vaguely towards the cellar before continuing to drag his injured comrade away.

Without thinking, George clambers over the rubble and down the stairs, tripping and sliding down the last few steps. He doesn’t care about the danger of running into a potentially unstable building, doesn’t care about Captain Nixon yelling behind him. There’s barely any light in here, but in the little daylight that filters in through the door, he can see a mound in the corner opposite the door that looks out of place and somewhat person-shaped.

Heart pounding in his chest, he makes his way over to find that the mound is indeed a person, and not just any person - it’s Phyllis, he finds when he sinks to his knees by her side and carefully turns her by the shoulder.

“Phyllis!”, he breathes, throat tight for a moment until she begins to twitch, lets out a moan, and her eyes flutter open.

For a moment, they scan the dim room disorientedly, then they focus on his face.

“George?”

Her voice is hoarse, she's coated in a fine layer of white dust, and there’s a dark, wet spot on her head that suspiciously looks like blood.

But she’s alive.

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you? Are you hurt?"

She struggles to sit upright and he helps her with an arm behind her shoulder, looking over her in search of any injuries he hadn’t noticed yet. She’s doing the same thing, as if unsure herself.

"I don't think so." She sounds dazed, worryingly so, and then suddenly lurches forward. For a moment, he thinks she has to throw up, then he realizes she’s trying to stand up.

“Careful, sweetheart. Let’s take it slow, alright?”

He keeps an arm around her shoulder while he takes his canteen off his belt, opens it and holds it to her lips.

"Here, take a sip. It’ll help."

She does eagerly, followed by another, and then she starts gulping the water down in earnest.

"Slowly, now. There's enough, take your time."

She struggles to keep up with his instructions, one hand gripping his arm and the other clumsily grasping for the canteen. Only when it's empty does she let up, and George clips it back to his belt.

“Now, do you think you can stand? We need to get you out of here so we can take a proper look at your head.”

He clambers to his feet, then bends down, hooks his arm around her waist and hauls her to her feet, making sure to have a solid stand in case he needs to steady her. Her pained moan slices through him like a bayonet.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just a few steps, I promise, and then you can rest.”

She sways a little but stays upright, and he slings her arm around his shoulder and slowly navigates her towards the entrance.

They reach it just as Nixon and a medic approach from above, peering through the shelter doors. Between the three of them, they carefully manoeuvre Phyllis into the fresh air, where the medic bids her sit on a nearby pile of bricks. He inspects her head while George hovers, Phyllis’ hand still clutched in his.

“She should get to the aid station, she might have a concussion. A few days’ bedrest and observation wouldn’t hurt.”

“She can hear you,” Phyllis points out, her voice still weak but with that unmistakable iron core that he’s come to know from her. George could have laughed out lout with relief, and behind the medic, he sees Nixon stifle a grin.

The medic continues treating her head injury, liberally sprinkling it in Sulfa, and her hand tightens around George’s. He doesn’t mind - if that’s all he can do for her right now, he’ll happily do it.

Once her head is bandaged, George insists on helping her over to the aid station himself, where he doesn’t rest until he’s made sure she’s as comfortable as possible on the narrow field hospital cot, and then makes every single nurse and doctor promise that they’ll take good care of her, monitor her for a possible concussion, and not let her get out of the aid station even if she insists on it (he has a feeling that once the first daze passes, Phyllis will be very opposed to ‘a few days’ bedrest’).

After several subtle hints that they should get going, Nixon finally gets impatient and outright orders him to leave, and George has to tamp down on a flash of murderous rage.

It helps that Phyllis is smiling at him softly.

“Go on, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m out of the aid station, alright?”

“You better. And no busting out, you hear me? You’ll stay here as long as the doctor says you have to.”

“I will. Now will you stop fussing? I think Captain Nixon is about one step away from court martialling you.”

George shrugs. He couldn’t care less about the chain of command right now. Still, now Phyllis looks worried, and that’s the last thing he wants. Besides, she looks like she really could use the rest. So he only reaches out to give her hand one last, gently squeeze before he straightens up.

“Stay safe, alright? And listen to the doctors.”

She nods, smiling drowsily, and it’s such a beautiful sight - blood and dust and all - that George has to force himself to walk away.

The sharp edge to Captain Nixon’s usually so cheerful voice when he calls Luz’ name again helps a little.

“You’re lucky I have such a big heart. Dick would have disciplined you for insubordination ten minutes ago,” he grumbles, and George wisely doesn’t protest - he’s probably right.

They make their way over to the jeep, now loaded with ammo Nixon must have procured while he was looking after Phyllis, and George is glad when Nixon takes the driver’s seat. Now that he knows Phyllis is safe, he can practically feel the adrenaline accumulated over the past hours drain from him. Between the battle and now the search, he must have been on his feet for more than twenty-four hours. Still, George doesn’t regret coming here for a second. After all, if he hadn’t asked about the orderlies, if Nixon hadn’t offered they’d search for them, if he hadn’t found Phyllis in that cellar and gotten her out - would anyone have? How long would it have taken for them to notice she was missing? For the other orderlies to look after her wounds? The thought makes him nauseous, almost as much as the memory of her lying on the floor, still and bloody.

It doesn’t take long for Nixon to notice how quiet George is, caught up in his brooding.

“What's got you all mopey?”, he asks. “You defeated two companies of SS and saved the girl. You should be celebrating!”

The cheer in Nixon's voice is forced but under different circumstances, George would still be glad for the excuse to return to his usual optimistic self. Right now, he can't be bothered.

“They're not treating her right!”, he bursts out. “That Lieutenant was barely aware she was missing. And the other orderlies practically pushed her aside to get out of that cellar. They should be ashamed of themselves.”

To his credit, Nixon ponders the words for a while before he replies.

“Well, she wanted to do a man's job. She can't have any preferential treatment now. Just because she's a woman doesn't mean they won't treat her like any other man.”

“But that's just it, they don't treat her like any of the men. No man in Easy would have left a fellow trooper behind the way they did. They just don't respect her. They don't even listen to her. Did you know she once had to transport a bunch of furniture and they refused to give her a truck?”

It doesn't take any coaxing for the whole story to come pouring out of him, followed by many others that have slipped out when Phyllis has had a bit to drink and isn't as careful anymore about not wanting anyone to think she's looking for pity.

By the time Nixon interjects again, they're back at their base on the Island.

Nixon parks the jeep and hops out, then turns to George.

“You know, Luz, it's okay to admit that you were scared for Miss Baker today. And it honors you that you’re so angry about the way she’s being treated.” He turns to signal one of the men over while George climbs out of the jeep as well, getting ready to hoist out one of the boxes. “But for the love of God, the next time you see her please tell the girl you’re in love with her.”

With that he walks off, leaving George behind to grasp dumbly at a box of ammunition belts.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fic #george luz #george luz x oc #george luz/oc #I'm sorry it's been so long but I was super sick this week #and also I may or may not have started writing three other fics in the meantime #please excuse the inaccuracies regarding the battle at the crossroads #I'm fairly sure battalion HQ wasn't hit this hard or possibly at all but it had to be done for the plot.

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incorrectcooldojidanshi · 1 year

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Hello!

So I im currently reading the manga volume 7, as that one just came out in my country, and I noticed that in chapter 30, when motoharu asks Mima how he and Hayate met, he answers (translated from German): “I hit on him” (“Ich hab ihn angebaggert”) and I was like?? Yeah you kinda did, but I didn’t think the mangaka would actually write that or that the characters would ever acknowledge it, much less Mima realising he did that. But then it also never gets elaborated when motoharu asks for an explanation

So yeah, have you read chapter 30 yet? What were you’re thoughts? Or did the translation/whatever language your reading it in make the Dialoge something else?

Also, do you think that the “I hit on him” could be a hint to what could come or how their relationship could potentially evolve?

hi!! i'm sorry, you say "volume 7" and "chapter 30" but to my knowledge those haven't even been released yet - volume 5 was the newest release in japan, it isn't being released in america until october, and on kokone nata's pixiv page she's only posted up to chapter 26 (and i don't speak japanese, so i'm not ENTIRELY sure what's in the volume 5 chapters she's posted, but i skimmed through them and it doesn't look like anything that matches the convo you described). unless germany has been publishing chapters already released in some kind of different format that splits them apart into thirty, there perhaps might have been some kind of mix-up with what you've read, because i definitely haven't read anything like that yet.

could you possibly be talking about some of her other illustrations on her pixiv/twitter? i don't know too much about those since they're not translated, but in the case that somehow this is part of the series - i don't think it would have been a mistake for mima to say it, and i don't think it's out of character for kokone nata to do so. i guess it also depends on the quality of your publishing company and how much you know about/trust them to handle things because there's always a chance that something got lost in the process, but imo that seems very much like a standard mima (and by extension, kokone nata) thing to do! he didn't realize it himself exactly, it was probably the way hayate had reacted in the first place ("sorry, i'm not a girl") that led to mima making the joke like that. if it didn't get elaborated, it's probably for the laughs - cdd is a slice-of-life comedy first and foremost, and while miscommunication sucks in drama, it's HILARIOUS otherwise.

in terms of how their relationship could evolve - based on what you've said about it i do believe that it was played off as a joke, but i do think hayate's got the most adorable celebrity/puppy crush on mima (and igarashi too! just any capable cool adult, which i relate hard to LMAO). tbh from what i've read i really think mima sees hayate as a younger person to take care of. now with igarashi in the group, we can clearly see that kokone nata often divides them between the "older" and "younger"; shun, hayate, and souma are often all grouped up together (hanging out at the cafe, movies, walking sakura, etc), and igarashi and mima are usually stuck together as well. there is a possibility that how mima sees hayate might change in the future, but for now i think they're content with what they have!

i hope that helps! and if it doesn't then feel free to expand more, especially bc i'm curious on where this is coming from! or if any other followers has any ideas and can help out, that'd be great too!

#sticksstone i think you may be from the future #lol jk this was a lot of fun1!!#now i'm dying to read it myself LMAAO #iccdd answers #mima takayuki #ichikura hayate #cdd #cool doji danshi #play it cool guys #picg

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minnesotadruids · 2 years

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Newbie druid here.. can I celebrate the wheel of the year in any way while being comfortably Catholic? I don't want to praise the Godess or anything like that.. I just want to appreciate the time and world around me. Is that inappropriate and or impossible? Thanks!

Yes you absolutely can :)

Monotheism in the Druidry Revival Period and Later

In fact historically from the onset of the Druidry Revival Period in the 1700s through the mid 20th century, most people who practiced druidry were still practicing Christianity as well. Sure in the 21st century, most druids might consider themselves neopagan now, but there are still many Christian druids today as well.

Reverend Henry Rowlands (also a druid) in 1723 believed the ancient druids and the Celtic cultures were descendants of Noah's son Japheth. He believed the ancient druids had been practicing a more pure form of pre-Abrahamic monotheism, despite Greek and Roman accounts that indicated the druids were polytheists. Of course this theory is also not supported by genetic evidence either, but in the Revival period these theories were enough to draw in many Christian druids.

The Bardo-Druidic Creed

The Reverend Dr. James published a long-winded statement called the Bardo-Druidic Creed in 1844, but in 1895 it was condensed down to much simpler terms without really changing its meaning in the following:

There was one God. There were five elements—earth, water, fire, air, and heavens. The soul—refined, vital, and imperishable—is a lapsed intelligence, regaining happiness by transmigration. Creation improved as man improved, and animals gradually became men. Man develops by experience in different states of being. Celestial beings aid man in development. Ultimately all will be happy, and evil finally extinguished.

The Wheel of the Year

Several major Christian holidays and also some feast days of saints have already been shoehorned to closely tie-in to the solstices, equinoxes, and times in between.

Samhain: near All Souls Day (November 2)

Midwinter Solstice: near Christmas (December 25)

Imbolc: St. Brigid's Day & Candlemas (February 1 & 2)

Vernal Equinox: near Easter (first Sunday after the first full moon after the equinox) gotta know astronomy or astrology for that one!)

Beltane: tenuously associated with Saint Walpurgis/Walpurgis Night (May 1) but mostly in Germanic and Scandinavian countries

Midsummer: near Feast of St. John (June 24) with bonfires

Lughnasadh/Lammas: Loaf Mass (August 1 to celebrate the first harvest and by extension, feeding Loaves & Fishes to the 3000)

Autumnal Equinox: near Michaelmas (September 29) with guidelines for certain crop harvesting and superstition: don't pick blackberries after Michaelmas because the devil pissed on them!

Another reason that it's fine to at least observe the Wheel of the Year holidays is because of how they are connected to the survival of humanity. In the centuries before calendars were a household item, the Church was largely in charge of keeping time, reminding parishioners which festivals and feast days were coming up. Agriculture and animal husbandry were coordinated with specific observations, and many events were treated as celebrations of some sort.

I can only imagine some of the pious monks in the medieval period uttering "isn't this a pagan tradition, your grace?" and the bishop replies, "yes, but it's tradition!"

So it is entirely possible to celebrate or observe the Wheel of the Year days for the sake of becoming in tune with the changing seasons, knowing what weather patterns to prepare for, when to expect different types of wildlife, and when certain local crops are ripe at the farmer's market. There's no need to tie the festivals to pagan deities. Each festival can even be used to express gratitude to the divine for whatever time of year it is, that way we aren't taking as many things for granted, which strengthens our humility.

#christian druidry #druidry #druidism #revival #wheel of the year #paganism #syncretism #festivals #feast days #observance #about druidry #bardo #druidic #creed

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bowdre · 2 years

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Revenge

Chuck Grant × Fem!Reader

I've had this idea swimming around in my head for a while, so I decided to finally get back into the swing of writing

⚠️I in no way own Band of Brothers or anyone/anything associated with the series. This is a work of fiction based off the actor portrayal of the real-life heroes⚠️

Like + reblog <3

Staff Sergeants Chuck Grant and Y/N Y/L/N were the typical you never saw one without the other. The two had been attached at the hip ever since Toccoa, first as friends, then as lovers.

The confession first came from Chuck, after Operation Pegasus. He was tipsy after a successful mission, his fellow sergeant could say the same about herself. She was practically covered head to toe in dirt, her hair was tied back and her breath smelt of cheap beer. But yet, Easy Company were not taken aback when they finally paid mind to the two and saw them engaged in a tight embrace, their lips locked together in a sweet but desperate kiss.

The two were promised to each other ever since.

Sergeants Grant and Y/L/N had a fruitful future ahead of them. They survived Captain Sobel, the war, and were able to celebrate V-E Day alongside the rest of Easy. Now, the only thing that was stopping the two from going back to America and getting a move on with their lives was the Japanese.

Y/N and Chuck each had a one way ticket to the raging war in the Pacific.

The wait in Germany was refreshing, though. Giving the two copious amounts of alone time, away from their beloved friends.

George Luz and Joe Liebgott found joy in making the bet: will Y/N get knocked up in the foreign land of Hitler's fallen empire?

The days seemed to pass at an agonizing pace. Everyone was itching to be shipped home or back to war. The homesickness was becoming almost unbearable, especially after watching Shifty Powers get the luxury of being sent back to America before the rest of them.

And yet, Y/N and Chuck seemed to make the most of their predicament. They would walk through the town that was previously occupied by high ranking Nazis, Chuck would gather a small bouquet of wild flowers and surprise his girl, and of course, an excessive amount of alcohol was consumed during the late hours. Y/N took a ride with Liebgott, Webster and Sisk that ultimately ended with the death of a high ranking SS. And to top it all off, Chuck was able to convince Winters to give him a military jeep for a night out of town.

Y/N decided it best to stay back and get a good nights rest, allowing him to have some time with his friends.

A loud banging on the bedroom door woke Y/N up from her deep slumber. The bedroom she occupied was lavish and comfortable, something she had never experienced in her 20 some years of life.

Upon throwing on her uniform decently enough to cover her skin, Y/N pulled open the door to reveal a quite shaken up Ronald Speirs.

"Sir-" she stood at attention for her superior despite her fatigued state.

"Y/N, you need to come with me." Spiers' tone was one Y/N had never heard from his mouth before. Panic. There was a pause of silence while the girl tried to collect her thoughts; "it's Chuck."

Her head was spinning now. Chuck? What could have possibly happened to Chuck? The war in Europe was over. They were at peace with the Germans. There weren't anymore bullets flying, or so Y/N thought.

"What happened? Where is he?" Y/N pushed past Spiers and headed towards the front door of the building she occupied. Spiers followed close behind; "is he alright?"

"There was an accident." Spiers was leading Y/N to where the German brain surgeon was operating on Grant; "Chuck, he was shot."

Y/N's eyes stung with tears. She blinked, and when the wetness covered her cheeks, she harshly ran her hands over her face.

"By who?" Spiers and Y/N were now walking side by side. He stopped on the street corner, an army jeep parked and waiting.

"I don't know. Not a Nazi."

"A fucking American?" Y/N's panic was now clouded by furious rage; "who? What's his name?" The two got into the jeep, speeding down the street.

"I don't know, Y/N." Spiers couldn't look at the girl. He couldn't stand to witness the distress she was in. They were never the closest of friends, but despite this, he cared for her.

The rest of the jeep ride was silent. Y/N couldn't say how much time had passed. Minutes? An hour? Either way, when her eyes finally landed on Chuck, her heart broke inside her chest. He was still, laid up on a dirty cot with bandages wrapped around his head. The German doctor was friendly, Chuck's friends had gone out to find the drunken assailant, and Spiers stood in the corner with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Y/N knelt down beside Chuck.

"Charles?" His real name rarely ever slipped from her lips; "honey? It's me. Can you hear me?"

Chuck was silent.

"Oh, honey. What happened to you?" The tears formed back into her eyes, her hand placed gently on his in fear she might cause more damage to him; "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to help you, to protect you. God, I'm so sorry."

Y/N was sobbing now.

"He will live." The German doctor cut the tension that enveloped the room. Y/N looked him in the eye. She gave a curt nod as a thank you.

Y/N turned back to Chuck, mumbling and rambling all sorts of apologies and prayers for him to wake up. She didn't hear the heavy door creak open, revealing Richard Winters and Lewis Nixon standing side by side. Spiers could easily read the look in their eyes: they found him.

"Y/N." Winters spoke her name with the utmost care. She slowly turned to look at him; "do you want to see him?"

Him. Y/N wiped the moisture from her face. She placed a tender kiss to Chuck's left cheek before standing up straight.

"Yes, sir. I would."

The news of Chuck's injury traveled fast within Easy Company. The assailant was a fellow paratrooper. A member of the Airborne. He was someone who was to be trusted, and yet, he shot one of his own. For this reason alone, he was showed no mercy when the men of Easy got their hands on him.

When Y/N strutted into the hotel of which her Company was occupying, she came face to face with Floyd Talbert and George Luz. They stood, both in surprise and to ask various types of questions. George possessed a cigarette between his lips.

"How is he?" George spoke first.

"Where is he?" Y/N reached down to her side, unclipped her holster and wrapped her dirt coated fingers around the handle of her revolver.

"How's Grant?" Floyd reached a hand out to grab her, to console her.

"Where is he!?" Y/N's voice echoed off the walls.

A moment of silence.

"In there." George gestured towards the small room on Y/N's left side; "the guys have already given him a good beating."

Y/N stood quiet, weighing her options. She was furious, she could feel it in every ounce of her body and soul. She wanted him dead. And she wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger.

She turned to Luz, reached a hand out and plucked the cigarette from his mouth.

"Thanks."

The cigarette was placed between her fingers. Y/N walked towards the room, now. Greeting her at the doorway was Bull Randleman. Frank Perconte had the man by the hair, tugging his head back. His eye was swollen shut, and black and blue. He was bleeding from his nose and lips, a flow of red cascading down onto his uniform.

"This is him?" Y/N asked. All she saw when she stood in front of the seated man was a piece of scum. A piece of scum who shot her boyfriend. He coughed violently.

"That's him." Bull stood behind her protectively; "replacement. I Company"

Y/N's blood was boiling. Her attention flickered to the cigarette between her fingers, switching its position so she could taste the toxic fumes on her tongue.

"Where's the weapon?" She asked, smoke spilling from her lips.

"What weapon?" The replacement gave a smug grin. He didn't feel threatened in the presence of the girl. Though, everyone in Easy had seen what little compassion she possesses when she gets her hands on an enemy.

Y/N took one last drag of the half burned cigarette. She deliberately blew the smoke into the replacements face before placing the burning embers onto his dry and cracked cheek. There was a slight sizzling sound of the replacements burning skin. He gritted his teeth to not make a sound of pain.

"When you speak to a lady, you call her ma'am."

She dropped the butt of the cigarette onto the hard ground and stomped on it with her heel.

Circling Y/N and the replacement, some of the men of Easy averted their gaze towards the ground. Everyone knew what the feisty young woman was capable of. Johnny Martin kept a strong stare on the girl’s hands, watching her grab her revolver and pull the hammer back. Joe Liebgott flinched at the sound.

Y/N aimed the barrel of the revolver between the replacements eyes. She appeared calm, too calm considering the circumstances. Perconte’s eyes grew wide as he took a step away from the replacement, his arms crossed over his chest. If she were to pull the trigger, he didn’t want to leave with the assailants brains on his uniform. Johnny moved backwards, now standing directly behind Y/N and beside Bull.

The replacement inhaled and exhaled heavily, the end of his life now becoming a very real possibility to him. It didn’t take him long to realize this was revenge for the shooting of Staff Sergeant Charles Grant.

Y/N’s hand was shaking now. Her eyes brimmed with tears, blurring the man in front of her.

“You shot him,” she started; “you shot my Chuck.”

Bull and Johnny felt compelled to stop Y/N, to grab her arm and tell her it isn’t worth the bullet, isn’t worth losing her rank in the military. But they knew it was. It was worth it to her, and it was worth it to them.

One of the first friends Y/N had made at Toccoa, Don Malarkey, closed his eyes in anticipation for the loud bang of her gun.

It never came.

Y/N placed the cool metal of her gun against the replacements forehead, gave it a harsh shove, then pulled away. Liebgott, who was standing beside her, exhaled the deep breath he had been holding.

The replacement gave a chilling chuckle at her actions.

“You’re lucky.” Y/N returned her revolver to its holster. She leaned down, a whispery tone escaping her mouth this time; “you’re lucky. I should have blown your brains out like you almost did to my Chuck.” Y/N stood up straight and kicked the front leg of the chair the replacement was seated on, tossing him around for a brief moment.

She didn’t notice she was sweating until she ran a hand through her messy hair, her palm touching her slick forehead.

“Have the MPs take care of this piece of shit.” She demanded.

Y/N took one last look at the man who shot Chuck Grant. In her eyes, he was nothing but a coward. Y/N’s feet swiftly removed her from the room, walking past all the pairs of eyes who didn’t think any less of her for not shooting the man. In fact, they admired her for coming face to face with the man who attempted to kill the love of her life.

“Grant’s dead?” Floyd Talbert bravely asked.

Y/N turned to face her friend.

“No. Kraut surgeon said he’s gonna make it. He’ll survive.” There was a silence in the room. Everyone could tell she had more to say; “guess we have to wait and see what the long term damages will be.”

“You should be there when he wakes up.” Liebgott said in a soft tone, one that was rare from him.

Y/N nodded, turned, and left the room.

“Alright, tough guy. On your feet.” Was the last thing Y/N heard before she burst into tears. Spiers was waiting outside the building for her.

She wished she pulled the trigger. She wished she wasn’t worried about the consequences. But, at the end of the day, Chuck Grant was alive. He was breathing.

Not even a bullet to the head could take him away from his beloved, Y/N.

#band of brothers #don malarkey #chuck grant #ron speirs #johnny martin #hbo war #chuck grant × reader #band of brothers × reader #richard winters #lewis nixon #bull randleman #george luz #floyd talbert #easy company #joe liebgott #band of brothers fandom #david webster #skinny sisk

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anavatazes · 5 months

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So, we don't really do Turkey Day at our house. Loads of reasons, but main one is the Mister is Native and the kids share his blood. That and a bit of a history nut... well, knowing what I know and how the holiday got traction in the States anyway, I don't have any love for the day. I like the idea of being thankful and grateful for what you have, but I do not need a day for that. IF we do celebrate anything, it's never that day anyway, because Mister always works it. Being a chef for an in demand fine dining business means you work all major holidays, except one. But, we'll do something that following day off if we do celebrate it, for whatever reason. Usually for one of our parents.

But that's not the reason for this post. Nope. It just hit me that I usually call my mother and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving and talk with her for a while. And this year I can't. We'd talk about the Macy's parade, and the Broadway shows, the floats, our favorite weathermen being on there, and then updating each other on family. Even after she became sick, she would do this. Not so much updating me, but she loved hearing about the kids. And the animals. Especially Mara. She hadn't become a hardcore cat person yet, the point where she lost her memory, she preferred dogs. She'd hear Mara in the background, and it made her day. And this year I won't be able to do that. I typically do busy work around the house on Turkey Day, with the Parade on in the background. The parade isn't going to be on this year. I don't think I'll be able to handle it. I know my baby brother will be at our sister's for dinner, with her family. Wish I could be with them. She's really good with Turkey 😋.

I have been feeling the urge to play Minecraft again, so I might. Or I might see about getting ready for another Horde Night in 7 Days. Or just bake to my hearts content. I've requests galore from the kids and grands, so I need to get those going. Youngest is home for almost all that week, and she's been itching to learn more baking. Might teach her some German breads. Some of my favorites come from there. But then again, India and South America come in close... I just love me some bread 🥰. Need to make some cookies and some healthy baked goods for the father-in-law. Most everyone in the family only know the sugary good ones, which are the best, but with diabetics in the family, you learn to master certain recipes so they may partake. And some I picked up from a cousin who experimented thanks to her mom (my aunt), being diabetic and a few other things. I love it when you have a few baking nerds in the family 😎.

And it's all this baking, and some of the cooking I'll be doing next month, is why I reblogged the post about retail shops being war zones and my going to a big box store early Monday. Which reminds me...

Tis the Season to be NICE TO YOUR RETAIL WORKERS! They are human beings, too! As a customer you are NOT always right. Please leave your tempers at the door. If there is a problem, someone can and will help you, but they do not need nor deserve your attitude.

Retail workers- Please remember that NOT all customers are the same, and some do have use manners, and can remember that you are a human being.

Everyone- we do NOT need to start saying Bless Your Heart to everyone who pisses you off. It's ruder than saying Fuck You. Trust me! Love ya'll.

#In a wierd mood

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loveforalexzverev · 9 months

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🎤 Trophy ceremony speech following him winning the Hamburg Open:

(A massive thank you is owed to my lovely friend @ saschazverev.sz on IG for translating all the German in Alexander's speech for me ❤️)

[In English]

I will start in English, because Laslo, I want to congratulate you. You're one of the most quiet, one of the most humble guys on tour, and I think the whole tour respects you. We know how hard you work, how hard your team works with you. I wish you nothing but the best. Congratulations, and I'm sorry it wasn't enough today (Djere smiles), but I'm sure the biggest moments and the biggest titles of your career will still come, so I wish you nothing but the best (the crowd cheers).

Also, to the team, I think, again, one of the most humble teams we have on tour. You know, I wish you nothing but the best, same thing that I said to Laslo, I think the best moments in your career are still to come, and, yeah, hopefully, one day, you will hold this trophy as well (the crowd cheers).

[Now back to German]:

I would like to say a few things to Sandra [the tournament director] of course. It's unbelievable, five years ago when you took on the tournament, it just wasn't what it used to be. It was just not the tournament we would like to have in Hamburg. What you've managed to do in the last five years, I mean we've got full stadiums here, we've had one of the best courts we've ever had and, in my opinion, there's nobody who's actually allowed to take over now. Because if you look at where the tournament was five years ago and where it is now, it's just a world of difference.

I know there might not be anything you can do anymore, but I think this is not the last tournament you will be in charge of, and I am pretty sure that every tournament you will be in charge of will make it to the top. So, thank you for the last five years!

Then, of course, to all the sponsors, to the ball kids, to the linesmen, to the city of Hamburg above all, which has invested a lot in the tournament, which has invested a lot in this stadium. I know there was talk of demolishing the stadium, and I think today was the perfect proof that the stadium has to stay and that great sporting experiences simply have to happen here, and hopefully you can celebrate the most beautiful experiences in the world.

Then… So who have I forgotten now? I don't know. Oh yes, my team! (Laughs) Exactly! One is still crying, the others don't even know what it's about anymore. That's always nice. But I'll start with Sophia. She's been with me everywhere for two years. We've been through an incredibly difficult time, but thank you for still being with me.

[Back to English]

Dalibor [Dalibor Sirola, Alexander's fitness coach], in English because his German is not so good yet, maybe in six months' time, it will be better. But it's our first title together; we started working when I was barely walking, and now I'm running around winning tournaments. So I really wanna thank you for the last six months, for all the hard work (the crowd cheers). I think the best is still yet to come, and hopefully this is not the only trophy we'll be lifting, and hopefully there's gonna be very big trophies ahead of us, and we can fulfil all of our dreams together (the audience applauds again).

[Back to German]

Then there are an incredible number of people who unfortunately are not here now. My brother, my mum, many others who have helped me incredibly over the last 12 months to even get back on the court. It was never certain, it was never clear if I could ever get back to this level. I don't want to forget anyone, so I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who helped me get back on the court over the last 12 months, because it wasn't easy.

Then, of course, to my father. I think the most important person for me here. He always looks very stern, but he cries the most. Always very difficult to give a speech then (smiles). I think, not only last year, but all my life we worked so hard to achieve the dreams we have together. Today on the court we fulfilled one of them. I was born here. I grew up on these courts. In Hamburg I held my tennis racket for the first time and this tournament is just worth more, is just bigger than a normal ATP tournament for us.

And there are two people, my mother and my father, who made this happen more than anyone else and who deserve this victory more than anyone else. I want to say a huge thank you, of course. The last 12 months have been difficult and hopefully we won't have to wait another 18 months for me to lift a trophy.

Then, of course, to all of you. You have made this tournament so incredibly special for me. I played in front of a full stadium here. You were unbelievably loud, unbelievably energetic, which is something you don't really know from the German tennis audience. That's why I'm very happy that it was just different. It was so much fun, every single second on the court was fun. The fighting and the running, difficult moments are just so much easier with all of you. Thank you so much! This title is worth just as much to you, I think, because I know half of you personally. Thank you so much for these emotions, for the last week. See you next year!

❤️ Such a sweet and heartfelt speech from Alexander after winning his 20th title ☺️❤️ He truly deserved this more than words can say. He has already arrived in Toronto and has been practising. I hope he managed to rest well after Hamburg, and that he can carry the positivity, confidence and incredible form we saw there into Toronto. Let's go, Alexander 🔥

#zverev #alexander zverev #alexanderzverev #sascha zverev #saschazverev #hamburg open #hamburgopen #atp 500 #atp500 #atp tour #atptour #atp tennis #tennis

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leewritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Keeping Up With The Hollands | 03 (Interview)

Summary: You and Tom were offered to document your life since you are both famous in the entertainment industry. Now as you got older you left the entertainment industry and head for the medical field. How difficult can it be? Also, did I mention that you have kids?

Previous | CHAPTER 03 | Next

Series Masterlist

WORDS: 1.04K

If you have questions that you'd like to ask for Tom or for.. you? Then don't be shy to send them. I apologize for this being late, my sister had a project and I got invested with Love Island

"Hey I'm Y/N L/N and I'll be playing with puppies while answering your questions, hit it" One of the staff members hands you a cute white pomeranian puppy.

"Oh, my fucki- wait I can't curse in front of you! You're too cute for me to do that" You sad suddenly forgetting that you were doing an interview. The Pomeranian puppy licked at your nose then barked at you wagging its tail. As you were giggling you heard a cough, realizing it was coming from the staff members.

"Oh right, sorry! I forgot I was doing this interview. Okay so let's start."

How do you deal with all the hate? And what's your motto for this year

"Uh I mostly ignore them, actually I have a high tolerance to ignore bullshit so if someone dislikes me or something I do and sends hate, I just basically say okay! ...Or just fall asleep. For the motto question, um well I don't have one but I could think of one....'Reject the status quo?' I don't know, I was watching too much High School Musical. Next question"

While you were answering the questions, another puppy came. You took it and place it on your lap, it was a German Shepherd puppy. You took your hand that has bracelets on it and dangled it in front of the puppies watching as they try to catch it. Smile instantly forming on your face.

Were there any struggles in you and Tom's relationship?

"Mhm, I like this question. Our relationship isn't as complex as thinks everyone thinks it is. When we first started dating there was a few issues since the age gap. We started dating when I was 27 and he was around 21, and people were sending me messages saying how I'm using him for his money and that I was some weird pedophile and I was so confused because don't you have to be with someone who's underage in order to be called that? Plus, I'm not bragging but I have more money compare to Tom. People are weird these days dude."

Do you have a crush on Harrison? If not, is there any other guy you find attractive?

That's a weird question to ask. Harrison is a very attractive guy and we respect each other. He's more of a best friend than anything. I really love him! For the other half... probably Niall Horan wait not, let's say the members of One Direction except for Harry yeah Zayne as well but um...maybe James Franco or Chris Evans? Look if I were to list all of my celebrity crushes we would be here all day so let's move on" You let out a giggle and smile when the Shepherd bark at you

"See, Sheppy here thinks so as well, don't you?"

There are rumours about Tom and Zendaya, saying that they are in a relationship do you think so?

"No, I don't, if anything I'd say Zendaya and I are in a secret - well not so secret now. I'm sorry Tom...but yeah uh, I don't think any of it, they both are close to me so I honestly don't think they would ever do something like that. Zendaya is an amazing actress and friend and if there's any issues I would most likely go to her for a second opinion and Tom, he's spectacular- oh my god, I've been hanging around with brits too much but anyway, he's amazing and the way that his parents brought him up, he wouldn't cheat."

Will you make music?

"Actually I thought the old songs...that I made weren't that good, but I'm surprised people actually like it. Uh, I probably have a good... 5 or so finished and a few unfinished ones but who knows I may put out some!"

Are there any upcoming movies?

Actually, there is. I have two upcoming movies with Tom, which was a surprise to me, but I'm not going to give any more details! I have a minor part in both The 100 and Euphoria. Any other projects you'll just have to wait and see~"

Why did you break up with Harry?

"Mhm, I'm not surprised at this but now, it's getting very old being asked this. I love Harry but it seems that Kendall Jenner was better than me? Not sure, but I had wished we had talked about this instead of me finding out from the internet. Wish him and her the best"

Noticing your distress, the Pomeranian came over and licked your face, a sad smile forming on your face.

What's one moment from your career that you'll never forget?

"I think one of the best moment I'll never forget is when a fan of mines came to a meet and greet and gave me a stuffed toy, I got two, one of a butterfly and one of me, and when she gave me it and I almost cried because I haven't gotten something hand made like that. She literally spent a whole week on it, what makes it even better is that they light up!"'

You lay down on the floor watching as the German Shepherd tried to tug your hand while the Pomeranian lays on your stomach. The camera shifts to face your view.

"Am I making your hands hurt?" You asked the cameraman but he just gave you a smile.

"Ah my bad, my back hurts from sitting like that so I needed a break, if your hands are hurtin' lemme know"

Last question: What advice would you give to a fan who's struggling with depression?

"Well, there isn't a best advice. For me when I had depression is that you aren't alone. There's actually a lot of people suffering from depression and I think being not okay is fine, you just need... to find something that's positive- actually, surround yourself with positive people that cheers you up, do something that you like, talk to people, that's what I did and I can honestly say that I'm doing great now."

As you sat up, you grabbed the Pomeranian and gently rest them on the floor, while the camera follows you. You smiled at the camera and wave.

"Thanks for sending in your messages! I really enjoy them. I am Y/n L/N and this has been Buzzfeed!"

T A G L I S T

@webmeupspiderdaddy @runawayolives @nerdy-collector-festival @hopelessromm@bi-lmg @speedyhandsbonkpalace

(If you see this then I couldn't tag you) Want to be added? Then message me!

#tom holland x you #x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland masterlist #masterlist #fanfiction #pregnant #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x oc #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland fanfic

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ronsenburg · 3 years

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Since you mentioned you were looking for drabble requests, if you haven't moved on from AA already, could I request something where Apollo or Klavier is struggling against pride/feeling that his problem isn't a big deal/some kind of internal roadblock to seek comfort from the other? Maybe they lost a case they don't think they should have lost, or it's the anniversary of something sad, or they just feel crappy physically or emotionally. Any reason is fine. Thanks for considering my request ^^

vorher:

It’s nearly six pm by the time Franziska finds him, tucked into a chair in the corner of some pretentious and probably ephemeral bar downtown.

It isn’t one of his usual haunts, but the staff seem to know who he is well enough, anyway. Though he is just barely twenty-three and his tab has been approaching the four figure mark for the past hour and a half, no one has bothered to card him or attempt cutting him off yet. Of course, that may have had more to do with the sizable tips slid to whatever staff member is closest in proximity rather than his rather notorious celebrity status, but Klavier’s ego has been rapidly ceasing to care about such things in recent months. What matters to him at this very moment is less the thrill of universal adoration and more the ability to nurse his wounded pride in pseudo-solitude with a vastly overpriced drink.

That solitude is shattered, however, by the arrival of Prosecutor Franziska Von Karma. The sound of her heels clicking firmly against the highly lacquered floors crescendos over whatever smooth jazz cover they’re piping through the hidden speakers as she makes her way directly over to him.

“Are you finished with your tantrum yet?” she asks, removing her dark sunglasses and placing them onto the surface of the bar beside him without any sort of invitation.

It takes a moment for the words to process; Klavier has spent so long playing the role of the ostentatious expat that his alcohol muddled brain can barely grasp the crisp and nearly foreign sounding syllables of her German.

By then, she has already removed her long leather gloves and cape, handing them off to an employee that floats near her elbow like a well trained dog on a leash. When she slides into the chair beside him and signals for the bartender, the scotch she orders for herself is nearly as expensive as Klavier’s own. If he weren’t so chagrined by her sudden interruption, he would likely be impressed.

“Since when is enjoying a drink after work considered a tantrum?” Klavier returns, finally, and also in German. He attempts to fire off one of his charming smiles as he speaks, but the words feel so clumsy and out of practice on his lips that the gesture falls short and sounds far more like the kind of sulk that directly proves the point she has made.

Franziska raises a perfectly arched eyebrow in reaction, though whether it is a response meant specifically for his faltering pronunciations or juvenile tone, Klavier can’t be at all sure. “Since someone recently made a complete fool of himself in a court of law.”

The words strike out like the lash of a whip; Klavier winces despite himself. Franziska is only two years older than him, but when she glances away with an air of disinterested disdain to take a sip from the tumbler placed in front of her, the gap seems far wider.

“You heard?”

“I saw,” she replies, glancing over to him again just long enough to offer a small, disparaging smirk. “It was quite the performance. Do people actually pay you money to see such foolishness on stage?”

The shame he’d been attempting to shove away for the past five hours flares up just below the surface of his thoughts then, hot and bright enough that he suddenly feels sick to his stomach.

“You are just as charming as they say, Fraulein,” Klavier smiles; the sarcasm tastes false and bitter on his tongue.

In truth, he had made a fool of himself.

Klavier has always prided himself on being meticulous in his pursuit of the truth, in perfectly balancing the demands of both his prosecutorial career and his life as a musician. And, most of the time, he’d succeeded so brilliantly that it had blinded him to the subtly advancing and yet still discreet signs that he might have been slipping.

There had been issues with the band’s latest album.

With the ink long since dried on the studio’s contract and their chosen title already heavily marketed, the pressure to produce something of value had been mounting. Every song he’d written since then had seemed increasingly vapid, words that fit a theme but lacked any sort of meaning, chords that sounded deliberately catchy but were devoid of anything new and surprising. They were going through the motions, but those motions were long since stale. There was nothing of the artistic fire that had skyrocketed them to success in their early years and that alone drained any last bit of excitement he might have derived from the process.

It was driving a neat wedge through the center of the band; Daryan called him a diva, so used to having things his own way that he fell to pieces at the idea of ever being told what to do. Take the money, release an album that was shallow but on brand. They could always switch it up next time when time was on their side. You’re the lawyer, he'd mocked, you should know exactly how much of our asses are on the line here.

Their arguments on the subject had become more and more frequent as the days passed, spilling from band practice to crime scenes and, finally, to the kitchen of Klavier’s apartment. This time, it was Daryan who had packed what few belongings he’d scattered throughout Klavier’s various shelves and drawers into an old duffle bag and left, slamming the door shut behind him with finality as he’d gone.

As Klavier’s luck would dictate, Daryan had been the lead detective on this last case. While they were both professional enough not to ignore each other completely during the proceedings, the type of communication necessary for a successful indictment had been… difficult, to say the least.

And so he’d been distracted in his investigation, enough that he’d overlooked a piece of evidence so decisive in the opposition’s favor that when it had been presented, he’d been left gaping in uncharacteristic surprise from his place at the bench.

Yes, he’d been slipping, unable to see the progression of his descent until he had been standing firmly at the bottom of a tall slope.

He was only lucky, he supposed, that this was not a murder trial.

Back at the bar, Klavier rolls his eyes softly, more an aversion of his gaze than a gesture for dramatic display. Franziska doesn’t seem to be paying him enough attention to notice such things, anyway.

“Well, you can consider me scolded. Your work is done.”

“And yet, that’s not why I’m here,” Franziska returns. Ignoring the eyebrow he raises toward her in obvious question, she instead tilts the tumbler back, swallowing the last centimeter of the amber drink. “I would not waste my time and energy searching the city to scold a fool who seems to be doing an admirable job of berating himself. No, despite your recent failures, there are people in this city who seem to care about your well being. It would be a shame if you were to drown in a pool of your own vomit.”

He cannot help his rather obvious flinch at her words, no matter how quickly he endeavors to mask it. “How very touching, ja? I was expecting more anger.”

Franziska pauses in the midst of extracting a matte black card from the small handbag she carries. When her steel grey eyes meet his, Klavier suddenly understands the fear the von Karma name had once inspired in courtrooms across the world.

“Oh, I am angry,” she smiles, wagging her finger in such a way that it is clear she is mocking him. “You allowed a criminal to walk free today. But he is guilty, I am certain of that. And now he will be cocky.”

Klavier is so stunned by her words that he barely registers that she has slid her card across the surface of the wooden bar, let alone has the presence of mind to argue.

“There will be more evidence to find and new charges to file,” she continues, unperturbed by his gaping. “I will assume that next time you will have your priorities in the correct order.”

With that, she stands and turns to the attendant who is still waiting nearby, ready to help her back into the dark, cashmere folds of her cloak. When the complex ritual of donning her long gloves and sunglasses is complete, she turns once again to face him.

“I will be driving you home. You may choose, now, whether you would like to accompany me willingly or if you will require Detective Gumshoe’s escort. You have until I reach the door to decide.”

It feels as though a whirlwind has swept through the room, appearing out of nowhere to disrupt his wallowing completely before disappearing as suddenly as she had come. Klavier is not stupid enough to doubt Franziska’s words, despite the fact that he is twenty-three and more than a bit inebriated. He wavers only slightly as he finds his own feet and follows her out onto the sun soaked sidewalk beyond the bar.

If she is smiling when she looks back towards him, it is the small, private smirk of victory. Klavier finds that he is too preoccupied with the act of placing one foot in front of the other along the uneven slabs of concrete to care. He stumbles gracelessly into the backseat of the car Franziska indicates, through a door held open by a man that Klavier can only assume is the Detective she had mentioned inside.

“Huh,” he comments before closing the door. “Somehow I thought you’d be taller, pal.”

A sharp stab of pain somewhere behind his left temple resonates brightly in response.

This is something he will certainly regret tomorrow.

nachher:

“Okay, spill,” Apollo demands, crossing his arms in a visible display of stubborn obstination that, at any other time, Klavier might find endlessly adorable.

Tonight, however, he has reached a new level of exhaustion, one that leaves him blinking back at Apollo in baffled surprise as he attempts to pivot his thoughts from their previous trajectory in order to make sense of the other’s sudden words. “Spill was?”

As his words indicate, the intended course adjustment doesn’t go very well at all.

“Whatever’s going on with you,” Apollo replies, huffing out a sigh of what sounds nearly like frustration. “You’ve been working late, you don’t eat, you haven’t been sleeping. Something’s up; I think you should tell me what it is.”

Though Apollo’s words and posture are combative, it is all for show. There is an uncertainty in his eyes and concern exposed in the way he bites at the inside of his lip in silence, waiting for Klavier to speak. The fact that Klavier has learned to recognize this expression through repeatedly causing it is a painful enough thing to shoulder; to admit to the reason behind his behavior when it will only bring them both all the more strife, however, would be far worse. Not because he doubts the limits of Apollo’s strength; it is his own resilience that is threatened by the thought of divulging the extent of his insecurities.

Klavier runs a hand through the strands of hair that have escaped the hasty braid he had tied earlier that evening and attempts an apologetic smile. “Ach, Liebling, there is nothing to tell. It is just work.”

“You’re lying.”

It is stated as a fact, nothing more. But while there is nothing accusatory in Apollo’s tone and his face is perfectly even as he says it, Klavier still feels the words as though they are the sting of an attack.

“Ja?” he responds. “And you promised there would be no bracelet inside the house, did you not?”

What he intends is for the words to sound facetious, a nod to the same kind of fond banter they had indulged in long before the intimacy of a romantic relationship. But Klavier is lying; it is not an offense often committed between them and certainly not one he has reveled in or perpetuated out of malice, now. Still, to be seen through so shifted his smile without meaning to. Klavier can feel it teetering on the edge of a sneer that feels both unfamiliar and familiar all at once.

What follows, then, is a long pause.

A lifted arm, a proffered bare wrist, is Apollo’s only response.

That gesture feels more devastating than the aftermath of an actual, physical fight. Klavier can feel the air exit his lungs in a sharp hiss of remorse, his posture on the plush sofa of their study crumbling as he leans forward to place his head into his waiting hands.

“That was uncalled for,” Klavier begins, though his voice is muffled by the skin of his palms pressed firmly against his speaking mouth. “I am sorry, Schatz, I—“

But his words are interrupted by the sudden creak of sofa springs, the cushions on either side of Klavier dipping under the newly applied weight of Apollo’s knees. There is the feeling of Apollo’s warm fingers wrapping around the skin of his wrists, gently pulling his hands away from his face.

“I know you, Klavier,” Apollo says softly; his voice is so uncharacteristically gentle that the words sound less like a statement and more the sweetest declaration of love. Maybe they are. After all, Klavier has been loved before. But being actually, truly known? He glances up into Apollo’s brown eyes, warm with determination and affection. “I don’t need the bracelet to see when you’re upset. If you don’t want to talk about it right now, I understand, but you don’t have to go around pretending everything is okay when it isn’t.”

“Bold words for someone who insists upon always being fine, ja?” Klavier murmurs, another half hearted attempt at humor that falls flat in what little space exists between them.

Apollo still lifts the edge of his lips in a small, humored smile of concession. “In court, maybe. But not with you. We all need to be vulnerable, sometimes.”

The breath that Klavier exhales wavers under the strain of unspoken emotions, his eyes fluttering closed just as Apollo leans forward to place a featherlight kiss against the center of his forehead, against his cheekbone, against the corner of his downturned mouth.

“You can trust me, Klavier,” he concludes. “I’ll always be here, whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Klavier finds he does not have the words to respond, then, even as the sound of fabric rustling against fabric fills the air and the hands holding Klavier’s wrists retreat. Their absence is felt immediately in the lack of warmth as Apollo slides back off the couch and onto his feet.

“Apollo?”

Apollo’s footsteps stall halfway through the door.

Klavier still finds he needs to clear his throat before he can continue to speak, swallowing back the sentiments that have collected there that he is otherwise unable to express. “Could you stay? Bitte. Just for a moment.”

This is a weakness Klavier should not afford himself. It is selfish to ask Apollo to comfort him when Klavier cannot even bring himself to explain precisely why he requires it. But Apollo’s eyes are soft when they find Klavier’s gaze once again, inexplicably fully of acceptance and, beyond that, what Klavier knows is love.

“Yeah,” he nods, “of course.”

Apollo stays far longer than a moment, his fingers combing through the strands of Klavier’s loose hair under the fading light that filters in though the slightly open window. They don’t speak, but the steady rhythm of Apollo’s breath in the otherwise silent room, the gentle pressure of his fingers, is enough to distract him from the tumultuous cascade of his own thoughts.

#this continues the trend of people asking me for one thing and me willfully misunderstanding the nature of the prompt!#and writing something entirely different!#just trying to subvert everyone's expectations jadshfskjdfhks #okay but literally that first anon is from like two years ago #SORRY DUDE #valentines day kiss prompts #ronsenburg tries to write #klapollo

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hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

Interview

BB: welcome back everyone! So good to see you all here today! We're back for a 3rd time here on BB Channel! Like before we're joined by the lil cuties of Ed and Mari. But this time their parents have come to join!

Rex: hello...

Quetz: Hola!

BB: that wasn't a very strong greeting Rex!

Rex: I'm tired right now. Can't this wait?

BB: time waits for no one and neither does BB!

Mari: already this is super annoying! *sigh* so why'd you decide to bring them into this anyways?

BB: the people who follow this blog need to see how they're doing so long after Chaldea too! You two have had the spotlight for a while, so now you should share.

Ed: I mean... guess that's fair.

Mari: should anyone be dealing with this?

Rex: I'd rather not be here either.

BB: aaaww, don't be like that! This will be fun!

Quetz: that's a very hard sell BB.

BB: just humor me at least.

Rex: ...fine

Quetz: what are we even doing anyways?

BB: some of your interdimensional buds have sent in questions about how you guys are doing, and I'm here to get those answers for them!

Quetz: that actually sounds nice...

BB: what'd I tell ya!?

Rex: yeah yeah, pls get started.

BB: fine. First few are from my precious bombardier beetle! First one she asks: do you have any pets?

Mari: oof! Do we!

Rex: currently we have four dogs: 1 German Shepherd named King, a Pitbull named Sparks, a Dogo Argentino named Duke, and a Corgi named Marshmallow.

Quetz: but also we have a habit of adopting older dogs who aren't likely to get a home because of their age or rescues to give them a nice place to stay.

BB: aaawww, well ain't that wholesome?

Mari: we also have mom's bigass pterosaur!

BB: less wholesome. Next one from my dear yellowjacket: favorite foods?

Rex: PIZZA!

Mari: CAKE!

BB: whoa! Pump the brakes you two! No need to get too excited!

Quetz: ...honestly? I don't really have a favorite food. Just a bunch I like to eat and some I don't. If I had to choose, I'd say chocolate.

Ed: I'm a steak man myself.

BB: 2 sweets, and 2 savories. Next up! Who wakes up earliest?

Rex: Quetz

Ed and Mari: Mom

Quetz: ...I guess it's me... hehehe.

BB: honestly I'm not surprised. She's so damn athletic and even used to be a professional.

BB: next! Where do you all like to go for vacations and such?

Ed: mom and dad have a vacation home in Alaska.

BB: Alaska?! Why?

Mari: when warm weather is the norm for you it's nice to go to the cold to change things up.

Rex: yeah, it's actually very nice. Not too many people and beautiful nature sights.

BB: well to each their own. Another from my dear antlion: how long does it take to pick a movie or TV show to watch?

Quetz: hehehe, we're all so indecisive it takes ages to pick. It's not uncommon for us to give up after taking so long.

BB: you should work on that. This next one's interesting. My precious army ant also suggests a round of common household jobs and the like from each member.

Rex: hmmm

BB: she gave an example of like, who does the cooking?

Quetz: well it's both me and mi amor in that case. The kids aren't very creative.

Ed: hey! We're plenty creative!

Mari: no we're not, don't lie.

Rex: we only really ask that the kids clean their rooms and any messes they make. We handle most everything else.

BB: they should really show some independence tho. Can't coddle them forever.

BB: in the next one, Cadence asks about a house tour and if there's a jacuzzi.

Quetz: a house tour feels like it should be it's own thing.

Rex: yeah, but we do have a jacuzzi dude, so don't worry.

BB: next one's from Reen: she asks what would life be if you weren't in chaldea,

Rex: y'mean like now? I mean... it's a relatively normalish domestic life? With less work tho.

Quetz: si, I've made plenty from my lucha career before retirement we don't have to worry about money much. But mi amof still makes money just in case.

BB: well after that she asks: how was your life before and after meeting each other?

Rex: ...kinda sad. Aside from chaldea and saving the world, I was kinda just... stagnant. Go to work, go home and so on. Not much to my life before then.

Quetz: ...honestly, for me it was the same. After the age of Gods ended we didn't do much of anything. We mostly watched over humanity, I've been summoned in modern day before but that was rare and infrequent.

Rex: ...after I met Quetz tho... I dunno things felt... better? She kinda forced her way into my life after I summoned her and... I was more then ok to accept her... before long we had something beautiful...

Quetz: aww, mi amor! I'm so happy to hear that!

BB: ain't that sweet? Like me and my dear centipede. Final one from Reen: if you could build a dream home then where? (Can be in fantasy)

Rex: I mean... where we are now is good.

Mari: yeah, right at the border of a huge rainforest in the Yucatan sounds fine.

Ed: but what about the fantasy bit?

Quetz: hmmm... we don't really look at fantasy much. But maybe a castle of some kind?

Rex: or a Mayan temple? But with electricity and Wi-Fi.

BB: that's fair. Need those memes in your life. Now some from Kaz! First she asks: what kind of gifts do you give each other?

Rex: uuhh, well I like getting mi corazon custom things. Like some personal clothes, or even a portrait of the two of us.

Quetz: ehehehe, I like to spoil mi amor with extravagant things! Golden treasure and the like!

Mari: concerning...

BB: next, how would you spend the day if it's raining outside?

Rex: I actually enjoy rainy weather, so I like to chill near a window or even on the porch listening to the rain.

Mari: it's very soothing.

BB: how quaint. Last one from Kaz: whose good at cooking and baking?

Quetz: hehehe, that'd be me. Tho it might be considered cheating since I use my goddess power to help.

Mari: well no one else is the greatest normally so it's fine.

BB: a good 'ol better then nothing kinda attitude! Now we're back to Cadence but with more relaxed questions: what's the current house look like?

Rex: ....big.

Mari: like three stories tall with a DEEP basement.

Ed: like... 5 rooms too many.

Quetz: we also have an indoor pool.

Rex: the outside looks almost gothic, but partially taken over by nature.

BB: all this near a rainforest?

Quetz: si! Despite the size, all the nearby trees still tower over it.

BB: nature can get scary. I've seen worse and have been worse but still. Another one: how do family events function? Any specific holidays?

Quetz: ...most family events are just us... going somewhere nice to eat nice food...

Rex: do they mean bringing extended family? My family lives too far to visit often

Quetz: ...and I'd rather not speak of mine... things have gotten rocky as of late.

Mari: right, well for holidays we celebrate most standard one, like Easter and valentine's and such. For October we kinda try to combine Halloween and Day of the dead.

Ed: but Christmas is the most important for us! Mom and Dad always make the biggest celebrations for Christmas!

BB: gotta love the holidays! Especially when your mom is santa... still weird to say that. Next one! Any plans for the future?

Rex: eh... not really? I mean I want to prepare Maria to continue the family magecraft, since Ed has no interest.

Mari: someone has to continue on this lost practice.

BB: good to know it won't be lost to time like we thought. Next one! Daily life?

Rex: I wake up, eat, work on magecraft, spend family time, spend time with Quetz, go to bed.

Quetz: I wake up, workout, eat, workout, spend time with mi familia, lovely time with mi amor and then I sleep.

Ed: I wake up, take a walk, eat, practice soccer, spend family time, sleep.

Mari: sleep, sleep again, dragged to breakfast by mom, eat, eat again, mess with magecraft, eat, sit with everyone else, scroll thru my phone for hours, sleep.

Quetz: *sigh* mija, you need to change your priorities.

Mari: mmmmm... No.

BB: bad habits there Mari. Next they'd like to know if your in contact with anyone from chaldea? Other then me!

Rex: here's a real quick list: Marie, Mash, Kiara, Penth, Astraea, Martha, Ishtar, Gorgon, Jalter, The twins, your kids BB, etc etc.

Quetz: too many to list...

BB: nice you haven't lost contact! Next! About that Wedding?

Rex: well... it was eventful to say the least. Not long after completing the china LB. Most of the servants were invited, and most of Quetz's family showed up.

Quetz: si, Martha officiated it for us. Most of my family were so nice at the time... too bad that hasn't lasted.

Rex: let's not mention that...

BB: it was such a nice wedding! You two were so "nervous" you had trouble with your vows! How adorable!

Mari: why the quotes?

BB: no reason... now we're at the home stretch! Good 'ol Ash has some for stuff that technically hasn't happened yet, but you should still be able to answer! What responsibilities will Rex take on when he joins the pantheon?

Quetz: ...well he'll be largely a guardian of life on earth. Authority over things like the jungle itself, volcanos, and even snow... for some reason.

Rex: well it still snows in mexico... occasionally.

Quetz: and we'll be sharing authority over Venus! I wanted to share it with mi amor!

BB: cute! Hmmm, not sure if you cananswer this one just yet? Adjusting to God hood?

Rex: well I got to try it out a bit. Summoning lava and snow is... interesting. But also... my mind felt... odd... but also clearer? Not sure how to put it...

BB: I'm sure when you get there you'll get it... took me a bit after servant fest. And how did the other divinities react?

BB: actually I have some recordings of that to answer, so play the clip!

A screen appears showing recordings of some servants, one at a time.

Ishtar: eh! She's turning you into a god!? ...I guess you've earned it master...

Eresh: what!? Can you do that?! ...guess I won't see you in Kur... then again I don't think you have any link to Kur anyways.

Kama: do you really think your cut out for it? I mean... if it's just for you two to be together then I guess it's fine.

Astraea: godhood is a very big responsibility master. Are you certain you're up to it? Saving humanity is also a big task but at least that has an end point. This is... eternal.

Qin: oh! So you have decided to go for immortality after all?! Tho not the same as my methods, it is still good to see you two will be happy together!

Scathach: immortality? I've strived for death for so long... to see you go for immortality... Hopefully you'll find happiness, where I couldn't...

The screen turns off.

BB: very interesting! Most seem hesitant of it all... I for one think it's cute! Imagine in a thousand years you guys have a double date with me and my dear stag beetle!

Rex: ...a thousand years...

Quetz: still having trouble processing it all?

Rex: yeah... maybe when I get there... it'll be easier.

BB: now for today's final one! A scenario! One of you two goes berserk! What does the other do to calm them down?

Rex: well that has happened before... usually a nice hug is more then good enough.

Quetz: si! I've almost destroyed a few servants a few times until mi amor caught me in a hug! I can't bring myself to harm him... so I stop!

BB: sounds too easy... but I've seen that before so... I'll let it slide.

BB: well that's all the time we have for now! Hopefully you all are satisfied by the answers! We'll be doing this again, seeya!

Screen cuts out, the show's over.

Questions provided by: @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong @renmeo @kazmetic @grievouslyxorvia

Other tags

@haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #rexcoatl #mastersona #rex #bb #maria #eduardo

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 3 years

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Flake interview 2020-01

Not a new interview, but relatively recent, Flake with "Der Standard" 2020-01 before an appearance of Flake in Vienna (author Stefan Weiss), don't think there's a translation on the website, so here's a shot..:

Rammstein keyboardist Flake: "The reunification was a mess"

Christian "Flake" Lorenz hits the keys not only as a keyboardist, but also as an author. A conversation about controversial views on the GDR, fireworks and climate protection

At Rammstein he is the "keyfucker" - GDR jargon for keyboard players. His real name is Christian Lorenz, but he has been calling himself "Flake", pronounced in German, of course, since his youth. For a quarter of a century, the native of East Berlin has been the alien in the German rock band, the thin freak among the strong musclemen. In the meantime, Flake also hits the keys as an author: In "An was ich mich so erinnern kann" (2015) he wrote down his GDR experiences, followed in 2017 with "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag", a literary autobiography about Rammstein. On March 26, Flake will come to Vienna's Globe Theater for a reading.

STANDARD: We are currently celebrating 30 years of 'Die Wende' *1). Your joy is limited, as one knows. How do you perceive the anniversary?

Flake: 'Die Wende' and reunification of Germany have to be separated. I experienced the change as a punk at the time. The ossified old concrete headframe of the GDR Politburo was also our enemy. We didn't want this idiotic regime anymore and we fought to loosen it up. When the wall came down, we didn't know what to do with the freedom we suddenly had. But then began an incredibly exciting time in which we tried to develop professionally, politically and musically in every direction.

STANDARD: And then came the reunification.

Flake: A lot went wrong from then on. We were annexed as a useless country, entire biographies were declared worthless, companies were closed so that the western companies could expand. We have been reset to such an extent that resentment and disappointment have built that have persisted until now. By and large, the reunification in this form was a mess.

STANDARD: If you look at Germany's east today, right-wing populism has recently had great political success there. A legacy of reunification?

Flake: Many people are disappointed because certain promises have not been fulfilled. But they already had the political left in their lives, now they are trying it with the right. Personally, I cannot understand how one can vote for the AfD *2). But those who do are doing it in large part in protest against the mainstream parties. It is clear that the AfD cannot meet expectations either. If the AfD were to rule, many people would notice very quickly that it is not getting better, but worse.

STANDARD: You grew up in the East Berlin punk scene. What are the differences between the East and West punks?

Flake: There was a fundamental difference: the Ostpunks didn't need any money because life was absurdly cheap, rent around 25 marks. The koney you made from one concert lasted over a month. So you could make the music you wanted to make and not just the music that sells well. Absurdly enough, it made us very free.

STANDARD: There were also IM Stasi informers among your band colleagues at the time (IM: unofficial employee, note). Aren't you angry with the repressive surveillance state of the GDR?

Flake: I'm not angry with IM informers in the bands. Because their IM status often made it possible for the bands to exist at all. The Stasi didn't lock up its own people. The best example of this is the GDR band 'Die Firma'. It was founded by IM informers. The gag was that 'Die Firma' ('The Company') was actually a synonym for "Stasi". Covered by the Stasi, they then sang anti-subversive texts. Almost brilliant really.

STANDARD: Do you understand when it is said that the GDR was an injustice state and that Stasi repression was a kind of terror?

Flake: I can understand it when people say that who have experienced it and suffered from it. But personally, I can't say that the whole state was bad. I don't want to know how many innocent people have been or are being imprisoned and monitored in the West. I do not find the generalization of the "unjust state" okay.

STANDARD: Would Rammstein have been conceivable in the GDR?

Flake: We wouldn't have founded a band like Rammstein within the GDR because it would have been the wrong answer to this system. We founded Rammstein because we noticed that our punk music wasn't getting anywhere in the West. It took harder stuff.

STANDARD: You have retained a kind of socialism within the band. Nevertheless, Rammstein is a millionaire company. Were there moments when you thought: The money could not only destroy our character but also the band?

Flake: Rammstein is a company where money fluctuates a lot. We have a lot of employees, we buy tons of pyrotechnics, we have a huge stage, costumes, our own electricity network, we shoot extremely complex videos. The money that remains private can actually hardly harm us, because it is so limited. We really have to make sure that the plus-minus calculation works out.

STANDARD: In your book "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag" you describe the 25 years of Rammstein as a long partnership: It has become calmer in bed, but you understand each other blindly. Is divorce even an option?

Flake: Divorce is definitely not an issue. It's like a very long marriage: You don't even think about divorce anymore.

STANDARD: In the midst of tough muscle men, you were always the figure that breaks everything, especially in the interaction with singer Til Lindemann, who sometimes roasts you on stage like a cockroach. It looks like the traditional comedian constellation white clown and stupid August, Laurel and Hardy with SM components. How important is that to the show?

Flake: We developed that more by accident. We never made it up: you are the strong one, I am the weak one. At our first concerts we always stood around very haphazardly, then we started pushing and provoking each other. When I watch a normal heavy metal band I get bored easily. We always have something going on.

STANDARD: Do you sometimes long for a role change at Rammstein? To be the strong one for once?

Flake: Nah, I have other worries. With those couple of concerts, I can handle my role well enough.

STANDARD: Can you even enjoy appearances or does that only come afterwards? After all, a Rammstein show is precision work.

Falke: What do you mean enjoy? I enjoy when everything runs smooth and everything works like a machine. There are good and bad concerts, at the good ones we take off like an airplane.

STANDARD: Rammstein mixes black romanticism with black humor. You yourself love the blues, which often sails in similar waters. Can you draw joy out of melancholy?

Flake: The blues is the best example of this. Sadness and comfort go hand in hand. All of popular music arose from a problem of the respective author. This is exactly what you want to hear when you are not feeling well yourself. During puberty you normally don't want to hear "Walking on Sunshine" either.

STANDARD: Traditionally, there is also joy in melancholy and morbidity in Vienna. Is that the Eastern European impact?

Flake: Slavic music is very melancholic, on the other hand the Goth culture comes from the west. So I wouldn't really pinpoint that to anything local.

STANDARD: It is said that Rammstein did more to preserve the German language than all the Goethe Institutes put together. Are you proud of that?

Flake: Yeah. But the interesting thing is that we are regarded more highly abroad than in our own country. In Germany there is a lot of ranting: We are dull and foolish about Germany - complete nonsense.

STANDARD: Rammstein has always been compared to the totalitarian parody band Laibach. They recently played in North Korea with the aim of appearing subversive. Is something like that conceivable for Rammstein?

Flake: We'd have to think very carefully about what we want and why we want it. If that were to help someone, okay - but only to be able to say, "We're subversive now," that's not an argument.

STANDARD: For reasons of climate protection, there is an increasing number of missile bans. A topic for Rammstein?

Flake: We played a concert in Chicago once. The local fire protection was so rigorous that we shouldn't even have lit a match. Complete ban on pyro. We went on stage and said: either we are leaving because we are not allowed to make a fire here, or we are playing without. The audience wanted the latter, of course. And it became one of our best shows. You have to weigh it up a bit: should you stop all things like a Rammstein show for climate reasons? But I totally understand that there shouldn't be any more bangs on New Year's Eve. I was in Vienna once at the turn of the year, and there was relatively little banging. I thought that was good. Berlin is one of the most terrifying cities on New Year's Eve. There it's pure aggression.

Notes:

*1) i kept 'Die Wende' as the term for the political transformation in east germany, not sure what the official english phrase is

*2) AfD, short for 'Alternative für Deutschland' or 'Alternative for Germany' is a right-wing populist political party, often characterized as far-right, known for its opposition to the European Union and immigration

#flake interview #rammstein interview #interview 2020 #again with the marriage analogy #😊#rammstein #flake lorenz

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leoninapelliolovesconchitawurst · 3 years

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ENGLISH TRANSLATION (by me)

LOSDELAMUSICA.COM 19/11/20

https://www.losdelamusica.com/articulo/conchita-wurst-me-encantaria-colaborar-con-ruth-lorenzo-amo-tanto-a-ruth-y-es-tan-gran-artista

Conchita Wurst: "I would love to collaborate with Ruth Lorenzo, I love Ruth so much and she is such a great artist!"

Conchita Wurst is back and she's never gone. It has changed and evolved since we heard “Rise like a Phoenix”. Now behind her is also Tom, who is embarking on all kinds of projects, like his recent collaboration with Ricky Merino on "Smalltown Boy".

We had the pleasure of interviewing Conchita and below we have his answers on his appearance at Eurovision, his new album, his new stage as presenter and some curiosities like his dreams to be realized.

After your stint and your victory at Eurovision in 2014, now that time has passed, how has that influenced your new music? Are you still seeing as much impact?

I believe that all musical development is an evolution and that everything that comes from the past influences the present and the future. Winning the Eurovision Song Contest and all the attention that came with it allowed me to live the life I live today. And I think I felt a lot of pressure at first to be perfect and do everything right, and now a few years later I feel more mature and genuine and I have no intention of thinking about what other people might think. I'm just doing my thing.

“Truth Over Magnitude”, T.O.M, what does this record mean to you? Why does it have the initials of your name (Tom)?

It means that I appreciate the truth and being myself more than the celebrity. You understand? Being famous or a celebrity is fun and all, but in the end it doesn't mean anything to me. It's no good if you don't live the life you want to live. "Truth Over Magnitude" is very personal, so it fits very good as an album name, and abbreviated as TOM, it also shows that this album is much more my personal self than Conchita.

Your projects do not end there. You recently launched a collaboration with Ricky Merino, how did you receive the proposal?

I love collaborating with other artists and seeing what we can do together. Ricky contacted me and sent me his version of "Smalltown Boy", which I loved. So of course I said yes when he asked me to record a reissue of the song together.

Is the career or the fame of an artist important for you to collaborate with him?

Obviously it's flattering that a famous person wants to collaborate, but again I think it's “Truth Over Magnitude”. I really wanna like what the other person is doing, I wanna like the voice and the whole vibe, that's more important than the fame. I would never work with a super famous person that I don't like. And I've worked with people in the past who weren't very well known and we still do duets and projects together.

Which other Spanish artist would you collaborate with?

I would love to collaborate with Ruth Lorenzo of course, I love Ruth so much and she is such a great artist! And I think there are so many talented Spanish artists that I don't even know! Send them all to me and we'll do something together! (Laughs)

You also sang with Anastacia, do you want to edit one of her songs in the studio and release it as a single? Which?

I would record all of Anastacia's songs with her! She's an amazing singer, such a kind and friendly person and I think we would have a great time together in the studio!

Why do you think we need an example like you to follow for the LGTBI + collective? Are you proud to be a reference?

I don't like to think of myself as a point of reference, honestly, and I've never seen myself as an example. I like to think of myself as a guy who does his thing. But yeah, sure, I know I'm an example in people's heads, not mine.

Hope a lot of people will see that you can do whatever you want as long as you don't hurt others. If you want to be a bearded woman, be a bearded woman. If you don't want to be the bearded lady anymore and want to make electronic music, then do it. You only have one life, and I hope that's what people see in me: the motivation to love their own life and their fantasies.

You also worked as a presenter this 2020 on German TV, what about the experience in 'Fame Maker'?

You know? I love hosting TV shows especially when they're live because it's so much more fun than pre-recording and recording stuff over and over again. And “Fame Maker” was the first live concert I did this year where there was a real audience, it was also very nice. Having instant reactions is very important, not only for me as a presenter, but also for the jury, the artists and the entire production team.

Being a program where you can see but not hear, does the image matter more or are there other deciding factors?

Seeing the artists without listening to them was really interesting and fun. Of course, it also makes you aware of how quickly we judge someone by seeing them for a few seconds. But you can't see the talent, you can't see people who can really sing and have a great voice.

You might be able to see if they have some experience on stage. But it was also the fun of this show, anyone could guess it and it was full of surprises all the time!

How important is the image to you?

Image in the sense of how you look, your hair, what you wear is of course very important in the entertainment industry. Not just in situations like a cover shoot or during a three minute live TV show.

I think everyone knows what it feels like to look in the mirror and say, “Wow! Today I love myself a lot ”, that gives you a lot of confidence. Likewise, we all have days when we feel like wearing jogging pants and not leaving the house. I think the appearance and image can help a lot with the confidence and the way other people notice you. Use them to your advantage!

And now that it seems like every dream is impossible, do you see yourself in the middle of the Super Bowl in a few years? You would like it?

Haha, they still haven't called me! Of course, the Super Bowl is one of the greatest entertainment shows in the world and every year we see how Americans are crazy about having a massive experience.

At the same time, I like to watch the Eurovision Song Contest because, if we're being honest, it's our European Super Bowl and we don't have to watch a lot of sports to finally enjoy it. (Laughs)

What can we expect from Wurst in the short term?

With the pandemic, it has been a very difficult year for artists around the world, and I fear it will still be some time before we can enjoy concerts with crowded audiences. The closures in Austria have made me think about things I would like to do in the future, I have been working on some creative projects and looking forward to sharing them with my fans, when possible.

But don't be fooled, of course I also spent days at home doing nothing and being lazy; I think it's also something that unites us all. It's also okay to be lazy sometimes.

Thank you very much for your closeness and for answering questions so extensively, Conchita. We wish you good luck and success.

Check out the latest single with Ricky Merino on 'Smalltown Boy' below, then one of Tom's most recent singles, 'Hit me':

#conchitawurst #wurst #tomneuwirth #singer #artist #esc2014 #escwinner #music #performer #lgbt #celebrity #smalltown boy #article #translation

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