#why did they look at echt other like that

[personthattoleratesme]

Watching the fnaf sister location video again

#why did they look at echt other like that #especially dan why are you fully checking him out during a horror game #get your priorities straight #dan and phil #dan and phil games #daniel howell #phil lester

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: flirting, foreign language (german), teasing, petnames, enemies to lovers, mistaking attraction for hatred, reader has anger issues

w/c: 2.486 (istg this was meant to be short,,,)

summary: kaiser is infuriating. there is just something about him that made your blood boil. and when the boy started teasing you in german, knowing damn well you had no idea what he was saying you could only imagine what type of things he was saying about you.

a/n: oh look it’s my favourite trope. mistaking attraction for hatred. <3 kaiser speaks german in this one because *looks at hand* i do what i want :)) you’ll find the translations for what he says at the bottom of the post. they are pulled from my own brain (this is me trying to say i am in fact fluent in german shshshhs) also writing some of kaiser’s lines made me cringe bdhdh ngl he thinks he’s so hot 🙄🙄 and he is also the title is lowkey highkey misleading hahaha

Kaiser got under your skin like no one else did. He always had that particular skill. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, the boy infuriated you to no end.

Everything about him down to his stupid smirk, his playful tone, his insufferable confidence and sometimes even just the way he would look at you… there was nothing in the world that managed to rile you up as much as being stuck in the same room as that boy.

Unfortunately, this was something that happened quite often. Kaiser and you being forced upon each other, like the universe was playing some twisted game, waiting to see who of you would break first and go at each other’s throat.

And you were pretty sure you were losing.

If getting the chance to choke Kaiser could be classified as a loss, that was. Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe you shouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. Maybe you should just wipe that arrogant smirk off his smug face forever and call it a day. Then you’d be rid of the pest called Michael Kaiser.

The boy who managed to bring out the ugliest side of you. An angry side, a spiteful side, a childish side. A side you did not like about yourself. A side you’d rather ignore, push deep deep down to the depths of your subconsciousness and never let see the light of day again.

You had no idea what you did to deserve this. Why the universe decided to punish you specifically was beyond your comprehension. Haven’t you always been an upstanding citizen? Haven’t you always tried your best to not be an asshole, to not let your anger get the best of you? And yet, and yet, here you were once again, standing in front of Kaiser, who was regarding you with one of his trademark smirks, while you were struggling to keep your cool.

The boy knew exactly how to push your buttons and he never held back. No, he seemed to bathe in your attention, all satisfied smirks and gleaming eyes, and your anger only spurring him on in his mission to be the most infuriating man on the planet.

You didn’t even know who started it this time but you were blaming Kaiser anyway. After all he was usually the one breaking the unspoken rule that was put in place for the two of you that said you were not allowed to interact. Because of how little you got along you were also advised to avoid each other as much as possible.

Regardless of who was the initiator today, it didn’t matter. The damage was already done. The “damage” being you, standing here, chest swirling with burning hot anger and Kaiser, who had nothing better to do than make it worse.

Like fucking always.

You hated Kaiser, and most days you were sure he hated you, too. Still, it was always you who got upset with him and it was always he who liked to make a joke out of the whole situation. Probably because he knew it would only infuriate you more.

The boy loved pushing your buttons.

“Weißt du, du bist echt süß,” Kaiser purred, tilting his head to the side as he regarded you, “Einfach zum Anbeißen.”

You frowned, jaw clenching in irritation as you glared at his smug face, the mocking tone of his voice not going past you.

Even when he was speaking another language. Despite knowing full well you couldn’t understand him and that you hated it. He loved it, though. Speaking German when you were already angry, knowing it only made it worse.

Whatever insults he spout at you or names he called you in the other language, with a fake smile in place, you couldn’t possibly know. But you expected the worst.

“Michael,” you warned.

His eyebrow ticked up at the usage of his first name.

That was only a small triumph. He preferred being called by his last name, especially by you. He was a weirdo who got off being addressed with the title of an emperor, and you weren’t an exception. You knew it made his skin buzz, could see it in the way he’d lit up.

Kaiser nodded, seemingly to himself as he leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers of the dressing room. Why you were even in here was beyond you. Maybe today was the day of bad decisions.

“Und dann ist es noch so einfach, dich sauer zu machen, fast schon witzig,” he continued, not dropping his smirk.

His eyes narrowed at you mockingly, hands pushed deep into his pants pockets. He seemed to look relaxed but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, waiting for what you’d do next. If you’d leave, like you did many times, storm out and slam the door shut behind you or if you’d talk back, something you often couldn’t resist either.

Your jaw ticked. Knowing that Kaiser was well aware of how easy you were to anger and provoking you anyways was something that got your blood boiling like nothing else. Your heart was already thumping wildly in your chest, the sound of it rushing to your ears. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, spurting you to act, to run or to argue or maybe to punch him. And worst of all, you could already feel the onset of shivers.

It was such a nasty betrayal of your body.

Whenever you got upset, you started shaking. It was most likely the adrenaline but if driven to a certain point of anger it’s something you couldn’t help. Your hands and your shoulders and your legs would start shaking and you’d stand there looking like a stupid chihuahua — at least Kaiser loved to compare you to one of those.

He loved to make fun of you for it. He loved to make fun of you for a lot of things…

Your body moved before you could think.

“You’re a fucking jerk,” you hissed, stepping closer until you were stood right in front of him and digging your finger into his chest.

Kaiser didn’t appear appalled or the slightest bit worried about your trembling form. His grin was sharp, eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Your anger, like so often, only seemed to spur him on.

He leant forward, pushing off the wall, weight against your finger on his chest increasing as he came face to face with you. Before you knew it his hand was on your face. His fingers found your chin, pointer finger gently lifting it as his thumbs graced your cheeks.

You froze, heart skipping a beat in disbelief at the audacity of this man. Your face flushed, you could feel the anger in your cheeks now.

“Wenn du meinst, Schatz,” Kaiser mused, emphasizing the last word and leant closer, your noses barely a breath apart.

Your hands tightened into fists by your side. You should move. You should push him away, maybe slap him while you were at it but you found yourself frozen, completely shocked by the intrusion of personal space. That was unfair. He couldn’t do that when you were angry.

Wait, no! He couldn’t do that at all!

Kaiser hummed, watching the conflict wash across your face with interest, lifting your chin up higher and dipping his head lower.

That was the moment your brain decided to bid its goodbye, your brain cells frying with its departure.

You had no idea what was happening. Whether Kaiser had just seen something on your face and gracefully decided to take it upon himself to remove it with his lips, or if he had finally thrown his last bit of dignity out of the window and was planning to bite you.

Which didn’t make much sense, because out of the two of you you were certainly the one struggling to keep yourself from being violent with him. He had never even come close, unless he was as good at hiding it as you would like to hope you were.

Kaiser’s face was still moving closer.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what the only logical follow up to this action was and you stopped, not moving away when you easily could have, waiting for Kaiser to seal your lips with his.

But before it could come to that Kaiser stopped, waiting a moment, before drawing back, observing you out of hooded eyes and taking in your…whatever expression you must be making that moment.

If you had to guess it was probably similar to whatever a crashing Windows would be looking like.

“You look like you really want this ‘jerk’ to kiss you, though,” he murmured, still only centimeters away from your lips.

Before you could decide to do anything, like actually push him away or maybe pull him closer or any other insane thing, Kaiser giggled, fucking giggled, before pulling back. He didn’t withdraw without planting a kiss against your forehead, though, making you flinch.

What the-

You gaped at him, blinking. Then you realized what just happened.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you.

You. had. almost. let. Kaiser. kiss. you.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you!

No, wait, this wasn’t even all there was.

Kaiser had almost kissed you!

Kaiser, the most infuriating man on the planet, the asshole that got off on fighting with you, had almost kissed you. No, he did kiss you! On the forehead. He had planted his lips there, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it wasn’t!

Who even did that? Who kissed their…their…enemy anywhere?

Your hand touched the space above your brows his lips had touched, as you stared at him. He gave you a challenging look.

“You’re….you’re so? You’re unbelievable!” You stuttered, completely out of your depth.

The both of you had entered new territory with this action of his and you had no idea how to act.

“Oh? Am I?” he asked unconcerned.

You glared at him, raising your finger then changed your mind. Instead you turned around and started stomping towards the door. You could not be dealing with this right now.

You simply refused.

Kaiser chuckled, snatching your wrist. “Come on, don’t be like that. If you wanted me to kiss you you should have just said so.”

You clenched your jaw, somehow managed to talk yourself out of actually hitting him and instead only ripped your wrist from his grip.

“I didn’t !”

“Mh?”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me, you asshole,” you bit out, turning to look back at him over your shoulder, face lowered and eyes narrowed to give him your best glare.

Kaiser looked unimpressed.

“Is that so?” He tilted his head to the side, grin cheeky.

“Oh now you can speak a language I understand,” you growled, winning the inner fight against your voice of reason and facing him again.

“Magst du es nicht, wenn ich deutsch für dich spreche?” He feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart. “Das verletzt mich echt.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. Because you were strong. So, so strong. And so brave about it.

“You know I hate that. Stop being so fucking infuriating.”

He snickered. “Why are you even so mad at me all the time?“

“Because you’re infuriating!” You deadpanned.

“And yet you find me irresistible.”

“Irresistible not to beat up.”

“How crude.”

“Shut up, already?”

With every moment the urge to wipe that self-satisfied grin from his face became stronger and with it your resolve to hold back slowly started to crumble.

Kaiser seemed to notice. Just like a shark who smelt blood he could always detect your weaknesses.

“Or what?” The challenged, stepping closer, voice lowering into a murmur, “You know, if you don’t stop being so rude I might actually have to kiss you to shut you up.”

You gaped at him, trying to step back and gain more distance between you when he took another step forward but your feet were rooted to the spot.

Was it really so easy to catch you off guard? Was Kaiser really capable of reducing you to such a mess with the threat of a kiss?

The boy laughed softly, enjoying whatever expression you must be making with your face right now. Maybe this time it was similar to a cornered animal.

“I said shut up,” you repeated, but your words had lost their heat and your face wasn’t just flushed from anger anymore.

A few moments ago you had fantasized of punching Kaiser in the face, and now…now he was saying those confusing things like they had been on his mind for a while now and you were unable to shift your focus anywhere but his slowly approaching lips.

Why did he even think of kissing you? You hated him. He hated you. What kind of fucked up game was this?

Kaiser bent forward again, suddenly directly in front of your face. How he had managed to get so close again was a mystery to you.

“Make me,” he murmured, a challenge visible in his eye.

You snarled, your anger finally taking the upper hand as your arm shot forward, fingers burying themselves in the fabric of Kaiser’s collar. You considered pushing him away, forcing him to give you space. Instead, and for no reason you were able to understand you pulled, yanking him down. Then you pressed your lips to his.

Kaiser‘s mouth felt warm against yours, lips both chapped and soft, the hand now on your waist firm. He pulled you closer, returning the kiss with fierce

You shouldn‘t question this. Not right now…maybe never. Yeah, never was probably for the best.

“Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you pretend you do,” Kaiser hummed against your lips.

The words managed to bring you back to your senses. At least partly. At least enough for you to realize what you were doing. And what you were doing was kissing Kaiser, you, who had been given a chance and still chose.

Had you actually just done this?

“You! I- Fuck you!” You hissed.

This was…You hated Kaiser. You hated him. He made you angry. On purpose! What were you doing here…kissing him?

You loosened your grip around Kaiser‘s shirt and used your flat palm to push him away. The boy didn‘t stumble, barely took a step back when you had already turned around, ready to run off.

Kaiser‘s amused laughter followed you as you pushed through the door and rushed down the corridor. His last shouted words, “Bye Schatz!” accompanying you as you disappeared behind the next corner.

You couldn‘t believe what had just happened.

You had kissed Kaiser. And the worst part about it? You kinda wanted to do it again.

translations:

“You know, you’re really cute. I could eat you right up.”

“Not to mention how easy it is to rile you up, it’s almost funny.”

“If you say so, honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’).”

“Don’t you like it when i speak german for you? That hurts me.”

“Bye honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’)”

taglist: @crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @lordbugs

#bllk #blue lock #kaiser blue lock #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk oneshot #blue lock oneshot #kaiser oneshot

[juvenillia]

~ habits ~ König x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and I had the big honour to write for @piecesofcain and one of the options I could choose from was König, so ofc I had to! Christmas in Germany can be so freakin beautiful!!! Alright, I hope you like it angel. 🩶

[Also this will be like my slow come back to writing! Things are figured out, and I'm back at working on my stories. Stay tuned chums]

wordcount: 2.4k

》Master Post《

A repeating tapping of a heavy boot. A bobbing knee, which his huge sweaty hand tried to force into halt again. He was used to life-or-death situations. Calculating everything in the back of his head to make it out alive and achieve the desired outcome. Nervous was never a word you would think of when looking at the behemoth of a man König was. Maybe respected or even feared, but definitely not as anxious as he felt right now. He was deployed in Berlin for more than three months now. Working together with the KSK. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Nothing that would leave him sleepless. Still, he didn’t find much sleep for the last three days. Three days ago, was the day when you made the decision to fly over to Germany to visit him.

You had a phone call, rambling about your day when he nearly fell asleep because of the difference in time zones. He loved to stay awake listening to your voice anyway. It quickly became a habit for him. It felt like your voice was stuck in his life forever. Maybe it was simply because he believed his life just really started with the day he met you. Your voice was the needed comfort after a stressful day for him. A comfort that lulled him deeper into a slumber, imagining you would be by his side. Only your recent question brought him back to reality.

“Entschuldige. What were you saying?” [Excuse me] A yawn followed the thick German accent as he rubbed his forehead. His phone rested on his brawn chest.

“Silly.” You laughed while repositioning the laptop in front of you. The screen showed a website with different flight options. “I asked you, if you’d like me to come over for your days off.” It was a genuine question, eventually a bit shyer than the first time you asked him.

Suddenly, he was broad awake. Sitting up in his bed, the phone slid off his chest. He barely could catch it before it would’ve fallen to the floor. “Let me buy you the ticket.” All exhaustion in his voice was replaced with determination.

“Kö…”

“Not negotiable, Engel.” [angel] No sooner said than done, the plane tickets were bought.

A decision that led him to the Berlin airport, waiting for your arrival. A single rose resting on the seat next to him. Why was he so nervous when a good friend came over? Simple: Because you were already so much more to him. The two of you often spent the holidays together, when his job allowed it of course. Just two good friends sharing some quality time, but this time felt different. König had made up his mind some time ago. A night when he was sure not to see the rising sun again, and everything that clung to his mind was your smile. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of returning to you. He knew back then that he was screwed, too scared to risk the friendship you shared. He wanted to keep everything normal between both of you. Not sure how he’d manage, but he would try his best.

Just a few more minutes passed and then you walked along the corridor, wearing the mesmerizing smile he loved so much. Suitcase in one of your hands and the other already reaching out to him, while he pulled you in a tight hug. Bending down to embrace you fully, while you let go of your suitcase to do the same. He inhaled your scent as he buried his masked face into your hair. It was like all the anxiety had left his body. “Du hast mir echt gefehlt.”

“König.” You laughed while pulling away, searching for his crystal blue eyes. Eventually you found his habit of switching back to his mother tongue cute, even if you often had troubles understanding him.

“Sorry.” He squeezed your shoulders before redrawing his hand to massage his nape. “I’ve missed you… a lot." You could notice the smile, even when half of his face was covered by a black cotton mask he wore often when both of you were out. Before you could say something else, he held the flower up in front of you for you to take. No words, just a small gesture while he averted his eyes from yours.

“There was no need to.” You took the rose out of his hand, your fingers brushing amongst his for the blink of an eye. “Thank you.” Your tone became a bit shyer, while your cheeks were stained in a slight rose. Something he missed as the floor became so much more interesting. There was never a need to be honest, but he still managed to give you little things. Just little gifts to show how much he cared.

Without hesitation he took your suitcase and held out his arm for you to take. A polite gesture, something that became a habit whenever you two walked somewhere. He would lead you to wherever needed while you wrapped your hand around his beefy upper arm. He always needed to slow his steps to match your pace. This time he led you to his car. Holding the passenger door open for you to take your seat. Just then he stored your luggage in the trunk and took his own seat.

“Where are you taking me?” It took you some time before you asked him. Your eyes taking in the different views of Berlin’s streets. It was your first time being here, so literally everything seemed to catch your interest. König made sure to take a longer route to your place of destination. Driving past the Tempelhofer Feld which looked so out of place. Nothing but huge snowy fields in the middle of the city. Making sure to take an extra turn in the roundabout by the Siegessäule. Leading you all the way back to Alexanderplatz. The whole city was covered in adorable lights, little Christmas Trees and lanterns. But in his opinion none of their lights could compete with the shining in your eyes. He told you more or less stupid facts about the places you drove past till he parked the car in one of the underground garages near the huge shopping center called Alexa, which was completely flooded in decorations and humans running the last errands for the holidays.

A shopping center you tried to fight your way out. It was way too crowded, and made you feel kind of anxious. Your hand clinging tight onto his upper arm while he led you through the mass of people. To his advantage he could overlook most of the customers around. He slid his arm around your shoulder to keep you closer to him. Granting you a feeling of safety. “Just a little while longer, mein Engel, just a little bit,” he said calmly, hoping his voice and touch could bring you the same comfort as you brought him all the time, while leading you out of the center and onto a bigger place. The space itself was covered in little wooden booths where you could buy many different kinds of food, drinks or little presents. It was one of the various Christmas markets which are dispersed all over the city.

Even if you could easily breath and most people granted you some space for yourself out here, you were still tugged into his side. Not daring to let go, until you stood in front of a huge field of ice. It was formed like a ring, and in the middle was a water fontaine - the Neptunbrunnen - decorated in some cozy lights. The air was filled with laughter and screams by children sliding over the icey floor. “Engel, you mentioned some time ago that you’d like to go ice skating.” He patted your head slightly, while adjusting the cotton cap you wore. “And how nobody would join..so I thought…”

Without waiting for him to finish and without hesitation you wrapped your arms around him. “Kö, I love you.”

He also wrapped his arms around you, while his heart felt heavy, still, you could feel the vibrations of his chest as some chuckles left his throat. He had heard those words millions of times. Something that was such a routine, while he knew how you meant it, he would love to hear it with different intentions. “Ich hab dich auch lieb.” [I love you too.(used for friends)]

Within the next twenty minutes you were on the ice, skates laced onto your feet while holding König’s hands to help stabilize himself. He may be an ace when it comes to rescuing hostages and invading enemy terrain, but standing on the thin metal beneath his huge feet, it was difficult for him. But you couldn’t help it and find it really adorable. Little children were faster on the ice than him. But you didn’t mind. Any minute you spent with him was just pure entertainment. After some time, when he finally grew more confident on the skates, he told you to take some rounds on your own. Just so you could fully enjoy it, while he made little steps to even fulfil one round on the rink.

The next thing you could remember was a bit blurry. The white floor stained red. You just assumed that he fell. As someone explained later to you, there were some careless kids, they didn’t take notice of the nearly two meter man lying on the cold floor. Unfortunately they literally ran over him, the skid running a deep wound through his jacket and into the flesh of his arm. You were freaking out, yelling at the kids while there were already two people helping him up and taking care of him, calling an ambulance. Better safe than sorry, they told him as he declined the offer. It really wasn’t a big deal for König, but for you.

The whole thing led to the two of you sitting in the emergency room, where a nurse took care of the injury. Just a few stitches and everything was fine. Well, not for you. As you walked into the hotel room he booked for you, you still kept ranting about those brats that hurt him. That hurt your König. He couldn’t do anything but laugh about your rambling. “You’re adorable like that.” The words slipped faster out of his mouth than he could’ve blinked. Sitting at the edge of your bed, mask long forgotten and staring once more at the floor. There weren't many things that would make the Austrian nervous, but knowing to say something inappropriate for the sake of your friendship indeed did make him nervous. Maybe even more as you didn’t answer the man now searching for your eyes. You stood in front of him, even in this position you barely were on eye level due to his height.

His eyes kept scanning your face, every twitching of your brows or blinking of your eyes. He observed it before he exhaled deeply. Took your hands in his to pull you a bit closer. You let him do so, still not saying anything. Too curious what was happening in his head.

“Ich liebe dich.” He looked directly in your eyes while keeping a stern face. Unsure of what he was doing.

You just nodded while turning your head away now. “Yeah… love you too.” It was the usual answer, something so casual for you to say. An old habit.

“Nein, mein Engel.” [No, my angel.] He shook his head and brushed his thumbs over your knuckles, before pulling them up to his mouth to place a slight kiss onto them. “Hab dich lieb and Ich liebe dich, those are two different things." His eyes held a bit of fear, but also so much adoration as his hands couldn’t let go of yours.

His words made something click inside your head. This wasn’t like the empty phrase he used so often. Not like the words you used to say. It wasn’t by habit. It was a confession, something you could have missed easily, if it wasn't for him to clarify it right here. Besides all the promises he made to himself, to keep it on the casual and friendly bases you had, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He wanted to be honest with you. He never wanted to lie to you. Those words often died on his tongue before, but not this time.

Your lips parted while one of his hands reached out to cup your cheek and your throat ran dry. “You mean it?” It was nearly pathetic asking for reassurance, but he got it. Pulling you once more closer to him, his nose touched yours now. Your noses brushing amongst each other as he slowly nodded. So you took the initiative and closed the last gap separating both of you. Placing your lips gently onto his while closing your eyes. His hands let go of yours, to take hold onto your waist while pulling you impossible closer. You nearly tripped over, but your hands found his shoulders to gain a bit of stability while the kiss grew deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go first, but the air escaping your lungs let you pull away sooner or later.

With a raising and falling chest you looked into each other's eyes and a smile tugged at his lips. “This becoming our new habit?” you teased him with the same genuine smile.

“Ich hoffe doch.” [I hope so] With those words he threw himself onto his back, pulling you immediately on top of him and wrapping his arms around your figure, listening to your little giggles in doing so.

“Kö, your wound!” You scolded him, but he didn't care, not when he finally could fall asleep the way he always wanted to. You tugged onto his chest, beefy arms keeping you close to him while you could listen to his heartbeat, which slowed more and more after the confession.

The whole situation led you to spending most of the days of this year’s holidays in the cozy hotel room, taking good care of the wound that would now become a scar. An addition to the ones he already had, but this one would always hold a special meaning to him. Reminding him on the day you became fully his.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x you #konig cod #konig call of duty #secret santa #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #kortac #könig fluff

[phoenixiancrystallist]

It is WIP Wednesday you say? How fortunate, as I have a WIPpet I desire to share :D

...under the cut because it's, um, long >.> 511 words long, to be exact.

"She looks more Athian than you do," Cuff said, a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice. He'd had some input on the cloak's design, and dubbed it Echt. Frey didn't mind that name, so she let him have it.  "That's because she's wearing more Athian clothes than I do," Frey pointed out. Bobbi gave her a quizzical look, fiddling with the cloak's clasp. Frey shrugged and relayed what Cuff said; Bobbi's confusion melted into a grin. "Thanks, Cuff, that's sweet," she said, then frowned. "I think." Cuff sighed. "Please tell her it was meant as a compliment." At least he'd given up on trying to get Bobbi to call him Vambrace. Frey was not gonna let him have that one.  "Cuff said he meant it as a compliment and totally not a dig at me," she said, adding some extra truth on the end purely to fuck with him. "It was both," Cuff grumbled. "You could stand to embrace the fashion of your own people, you know." "Not happening. They haven't invented jeans yet." "Why do I bother." "I do miss my pockets," Bobbi said with a sigh. "This is nice, though." "It's got pockets," Frey pointed out. Bobbi lifted an edge and studied the inner lining, stuck her hand in the pocket, and grinned. "Aw, hell yes! Muthafukkin' pockets! Frey, you're the best." The purple heart emoji at the end of her sentence was audible. She found the three other pockets Frey had sewn in, and in the third one found one of the other presents Frey'd left her. "What's this?" "Healing draught. Wish I'd had one on me when you first walked in. That shit would've fixed you up no problem." "Is it magic?" Bobbi asked, holding the bottle up to the sun. Knell rippled, and Bobbi's eyebrows raised. "No shit. Yeah, really wish I'd had one of these puppies. Gearing me up for what, Frey?" She didn't let shit go, did she? "I want to take a trip out of Cipal. Figured I could use your help." "With what?" "Ever heard of the Cognoscents?" "Cognizants?" Bobbi asked with another of those puzzled frowns. Frey grinned, and Cuff heaved a long-suffering, exasperated sigh. "Cognoscents," Frey corrected, and tried not to laugh. "They studied pretty much everything. There's a guild a couple days away, figured we could hit it up and see if any of the research made it. Bring a few books back if they did. Bet that'd make Jo happy." "Have I met Jo?" Bobbi asked with another frown, this one thoughtful as she searched her memory—and her new pockets. There weren't any more gifts in them, though. Bobbi'd admitted awhile ago that she struggled with names and faces. Frey shook her head and Knell rippled with light again. "She's the Archivist," Frey explained. "We haven't been there yet. Figured if you showed up with a present she might like you, so I've been saving it until we had something." "I highly doubt Johedy responds to bribery," Cuff grumbled.  "It's not bribery, it's a present," Frey snipped. 

#WIPpets (WIP snippets) #self-insert shenanigans #bobbi's being weird again #forspoken #Forspoken fanfic #self-insert #Frey Holland #Forspoken Cuff #OC: Knell #I wrote so much today and #uh #most of it was at work >.> #I'm a responsible adult I swear!!! #I just... also wrote 1405-ish words on my breaks #it's fine #don't worry about it >.>

[weirdestbooks]

Secret States Chapter 6

Reincarnations

Netherlands POV

I stared at the American state who just claimed to be the reincarnation of my long dead son. I looked over to Sweden and the Nordic countries, who had the same look of shock and disbelief. I turned back to the American state, New York, who shot me a half grin. America rolled his eyes.

"I think we broke the countries." Hawaii remarked. The other new state, the one who claimed to be New Sweden, Delaware, snorted.

"Texas and Liberia already did that when they revealed we existed." He replied. California popped their gum.

"So we what? Double broke them?" Florida questioned. New York smiled.

"If only I could do this to Masshole. I guess kicking his ass in baseball is all I can do now." New York remarked. Delaware and America shot him a look.

"York, what have a told you about calling Mass Masshole?" America asked him. New York sighed and rolled his eyes. Who was Mass? Why didn't New York like him?

"Oh come on Dad. You let Hamp call him Taxachusetts." New York argued back. I wondered who Hamp was. I didn't know of any states called that, but it could be a nickname, as the states seemed fond of calling each other nicknames.

"Re-reincarnation? That's not possible. Reincarnation isn't real, is it?" England stuttered out. That was my problem with this story. Reincarnation couldn't be possible. This was just a trick! My son. He was long gone. Another causality in the British Empire's conquest for power. I missed my son dearly, but I couldn't believe the words or these states without proof.

"Yeah well it is. At least we're like 98% sure. It's the only explanation for why New York and I can remember memories that we never made. I remember dying, and as you can see, I am not dead. So obviously we have memories that weren't made by us as the States of Delaware and New York, but as someone else." Delaware explained, New York nodding along.

"But...how?" Sweden asked. Delaware shrugged.

"We don't know how. We know that it happened." New York commented. America smiled.

"Trust me, it surprised me just as much as the rest of you when I finally figured it out." America explained, fond smile on his face. The states began snickering, along with Liberia. Delaware's face turned bright red.

"Oh come on are we seriously still hung up over that? That was like fifty years ago!" Delaware protested as the states snickering grew louder, "Jag önskar att jag aldrig hade syskon.  Ni är alla hemska små varelser."

The change to Swedish, or what I'm assuming is Swedish based on what Delaware told us about his heritage, surprised me. I had thought America, and his states, could only speak English, as it was the official language of his country, but seeing all the different languages they know changed my mind on that, although I was still a bit confused on why they decided to learn a bunch of new languages.

"Why do you speak languages that aren't English when your official language is English?" Vietnam asked from next to me. I'm glad we all seemed to have to same question, because that question had been confusing me every since we first met the adopted states and they began speaking in languages that weren't English. America, however looked confused at that question.

"Who told you my official language was English? I don't have an official language." He said, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't?" UN asked, finally speaking up after being unusually quiet through the introduction. America nodded.

"I have no official language. English is just the most widely spoken language in my country, so its the de facto language. Although my people have been making new signs in both English and Spanish recently, to help immigrants from Latin America and Mexico." America explained. That doesn't explain why America knows more languages than English though.

"That doesn't explain why you know more languages than English." Haiti said, asking my question.

"Yes it does." Australia said. Australia's family gave him a weird look. America smiled.

"I forgot you lacked an official language as well. We can be buddies! Who else is in the club? I know Sweden is." America remarked. I was still confused though. How did lacking an official language make it so America could speak-wait.

"Does lacking an official language make you able to understand all languages spoken in your country?" I asked America as I realized what America lacking an official language could mean. America gave me a thumbs up, signaling to me that I was correct.

"Wait, you guys can speak every language spoken in your country?" New Zealand asked Australia and America.

"Yep. I can speak over 200, but they're mainly Creoles and indigenous languages." Australia said. New Zealand started freaking out, while France, Canada and the British Isles looked shocked.

"I can speak approximately 350." America said. America can speak 350 languages? No wonder he knew Spanish and Swedish. And Australia knowing over 200! This was insane! I wonder of this meant America knew Dutch?

"I though it was 480?" New York asked. America shook his head before looking confused. There was a chance America knew more that 350 languages? That was a lot, this was confusing. I was confused and a bit overwhelmed by everything happening all at once.

America had kids, some adopted. Reincarnation is real and my son was reincarnated as one of America's children. America knew over 300 languages. This was a lot.

"Somewhere in between those two numbers, I guess." America settled on after thinking over the two numbers he had, "Although a large number of languages that are spoken in my country are the languages of the Native Americans."

"Why are we just learning a lot of new stuff about you?" Germany asked.

"You can look all of this up on the internet it's not like it's some big secret. You're just oblivious, and maybe, you're even idiots." California replied, pulling out their phone and beginning to type on it.

"I...I don't have an argument for that." Germany replied, "Aside from the fact that I have no reason to look up the governmental structure and official language of America."

"Yeah, that's true. Anyway we got off topic. Reincarnation is real, such a ginormous shock. Can we stop playin' twenty questions and play talkin' to people we are related to?" Texas asked, seeming done with the multitude of questions coming from the confused countries.

"Let's do that. I know some of you want to make or fix relationships. I want to go home and do anything but this." Louisiana said, shooting a glance at France. After hearing about the complicated and strained relationship between Louisiana and France, that made sense.

"I am goin' to play catch up with Madre." Texas said, before going grabbing California's arm and dragging them towards Mexico.

"Hey! Let go of me!" California said in protest, attempting to break Texas' grip on their arm.

"Texas." America said. Texas let go of California's arm and began protest about how he just wanted to make sure they at least tried talking to their mom while California scowled at him.

"Pa, come on. I just want to make sure Cali give takin' to Madre a chance. They're convinced that not talkin' to Madre is best, but they haven't even talked to Madre once!" He protested, making exasperated motions with his arms.

"Tex, come on. Just let Cali do it when they're ready. We're all in unfamiliar territory at this point and we're all nervous, especially because some of us haven't met our biological families before. Let them do it when they are ready." Delaware told him, taking control of the situation, causing America to shoot him a grateful look.

"Alright, how about you guys talk to whoever you feel is best to catch up with or meet while I get interrogated by my family." America said, "And no trying to declare war on other countries, Texas no claiming you can leave the Union, because everyone knows its not true, and Florida, please make sure your snake doesn't send anyone to the hospital."

The states nodded, with some eye rolls thrown in, before they split up and began making their way to countries scattered though out the room. New York walked over to me, looking nervous, which is what I felt as well.

What if New York hated me now that he was an American state? Did he blame me for his death as New Netherlands? Would he be very different from New Netherlands, or similar? These questions plagued my mind as New York sat down next to me.

"Hallo. Ik weet niet hoe ik dit gesprek moet beginnen, dus je kunt gewoon vragen stellen als je wilt, hoewel ik ze misschien niet wil beantwoorden." (Hello. I don't know how to start this conversation, so you can just ask questions if you want, although I may not want to answer them.) New York told me.

"Ik weet ook niet waar ik moet beginnen ... Heb je enig idee hoe je terugkwam?" (I don't know where to start either...Do you have any idea how you came back?) I questioned, hesitantly, not wanting to bring up bad memories, and not wanting to lose this second opportunity to be with my son.

"Nee, dat weet ik niet. Niemand van ons heeft dat ontdekt. De beste gok die we konden bedenken is dat aangezien onze staten zijn gelegen waar Nieuw Nederland en Nieuw Zweden waren, hun geest werd overgebracht naar de staat, Del en ik, die daar was. Ik weet dat het cheesy klinkt, maar er is geen andere verklaring die we kunnen vinden." (No, I don't. None of us have figured that out. The best guess we could come up is that since our states are located where New Netherlands and New Sweden used to be, their spirits got transferred to the state, Del and I, that was there. I know it sound cheesy, but there isn't another explanation that we could find.) New York explained.

"Herinner je je alles over Nieuw Nederland zijn?" (Do you remember everything about being New Netherlands?) I asked him next. I know that Delaware said he and New York realized they were reincarnations when they started gaining back memories of their first life. New York sighed and shook his head.

"Niet echt goed. Ik heb moeite met het herinneren van mijn tijd als Nieuw-Nederland, en wat ik me herinner is normaal gesproken een pijnlijke herinnering. Goede dingen zijn moeilijk te onthouden. Het spijt me, maar ik weet dat ik nooit de zoon zal zijn die je bent kwijtgeraakt. Er is te veel veranderd." (Not very well. I have trouble remembering my time as New Netherlands, and what I do remember is normally a painful memory. Good things are very hard to remember. I'm sorry, but I know I will never be the son you lost. Too much has changed.) New York said, sounding sad and dejected.

I was upset, not with New York, but with myself. I know I didn't have much I should feel guilty about, but maybe if I had just tried and fought harder in the Second Anglo-Dutch War, New Netherlands could of survived. Then I wouldn't have to meet his reincarnation who didn't remember anything good about his past life and blames himself for not being New Netherlands.

"Geef jezelf niet de schuld dat je geen Nieuw Nederland bent. Gewoon weten dat een deel van hem in jou leeft, is oké. Je kunt gewoon New York zijn. " (Don't blame yourself for not being New Netherlands. Just knowing that a part of him lives in you is okay. You can just be New York.) I told him. New York nodded.

"I just don't want to disappoint you by claiming that I'm the reincarnation of your son, and then not being your son. I'm the reincarnation of New Netherlands, but I'm not him." New York said after a brief pause. There was a lot of uncertainty in his voice, and after a brief mental debate with myself, I leaned over to hug New York.

"Het spijt me als ik je onder druk zet. Dit is onbekend terrein voor mij, maar ik zal ervoor zorgen dat ik je behandel zoals de persoon die je bent in dit leven, niet je laatste. " (I'm sorry if I put any pressure on you. This is unfamiliar territory for me, but I'll make sure I treat you like the person you are in this life, not your last.) I told him.

I had been really happy to learn that my son was still 'alive,' but after hearing it from New York, I understood that he was not my son. He was a different person that my son, but I could still see aspects of New Netherlands in New York. His want to not disappoint others, the way he spoke, he way he held himself.

New Netherlands was gone, but New York was still here. I won't be able to get my son back, but that doesn't mean I can't befriend his reincarnation.

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Sweden POV

New Sweden. The colony I created in the New World. My son. He died to Netherlands, to soon. Countries live for a long time, and losing my son after seventeen years was like a human losing a toddler.

And he was back. I watched as New Sweden, Delaware, seemed to help America manage the other states. Delaware was a lot more professional, and strict than I remember New Sweden, but then again, New Sweden was technically still a child when he died. Delaware wasn't a child. Delaware walked over to me after the America decided the states needed to talk to their biological families, and smiled.

"Hej Sverige. Det är bra att träffa dig, åtminstone som Delaware. " (Hello Sweden. It's good to meet you, at least as Delaware.) He said, holding out a hand to shake.

"Du kallade mig Sverige. Varför? Är du inte min sons reinkarnation? " (You called me Sweden. Why? Aren't you the reincarnation of my son?) I asked him. Maybe because he was adopted by America, he doesn't want anything to do with me.

"Reinkarnation skiljer sig från att väcka någon till liv igen. Jag delar samma själ som Nya Sverige, men jag är inte han." (Reincarnation is different from bringing someone back to life. I share the same soul as New Sweden, but I am not him.) Delaware explained, giving me a sad smile.

I felt crushed. I had gotten my hopes up that my son was alive, but he wasn't. Delaware reminded me of my son though. He had the same smile my son did, the smile he would always give me whenever I spent time with him. It had been centuries since New Sweden's death, but seeing Delaware, and him confirming he wasn't my son brought all of the pain back to the surface.

"I'm sorry. I wish it could be different. But the dead can't come back to life. I'll go if you want me to." Delaware said, making movements to walk away.

"Don't. Please." I said, not wanting to lose this opportunity to speak with Delaware. I wondered why he was walking away. Did he not want to talk to me because I wasn't his father, just the father of his past life? Delaware looked surprised.

"Okay. I though you wouldn't want to talk to me after learning I'm not your son." Delaware said, wringing his hand as he sat down on the table. I guess we both are insecure about talking to each other.

"I though you didn't want to talk to me because I'm not your real father." I explained. Delaware frowned and began stammering.

"Well I-I just...America is my bio-biological dad...at least in this life. I-I still remember you. Faint memories from when I was...when I was New Sweden." Delaware stammered out, looking down and refusing to make eye contact. It was clear he was incredibly nervous about talking to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" I asked. Delaware had been helping America deal with the states, and from what I was told yesterday, Delaware normally helps with that. He seemed he would have to be confident and have a commanding presence. So why was he nervous now?

"I just feel like I'm a disappointment to you, and I'm...just...this is very new to me. I don't really know how to have a conversation with you. I...I just...don't know what to say." Delaware explained, wringing his hands together.

"Well, what are you interests? That's normally a good way to start a conversation." I said. Delaware smiled.

"I really like peaches. Georgia and I-" Delaware began before I cut him off.

"Georgia's a country in Europe. I thought we knew all of the countries that knew about you and the rest of the states?" I questioned, confused as to why Georgia would know. I didn't even know she and America were friends, although Cuba did know, so I guess friendship wasn't a requirement. Delaware laughed.

"Not Georgia the country. The State of Georgia. Named after King George the Second, created back when Dad was just the Thirteen Colonies." Delaware explained.

"So there is a state that just has the name of a country. Georgia the country doesn't actually know?" I asked, still a bit confused.

"Yep, a state and a country have to same name. Georgia the country found out when the rest of you did." Delaware said smiling, "Don't worry, I know it's confusing. Anyway, the State of Georgia and I are both "Peach States" so we bound over that. I also like blue hens. They're my state bird and are really cute! One of my people, Caesar Rodney, was also the reason that Congress could say the vote for independence was unanimous."

I listened as Delaware ranted on, talking about peaches, blue hens, and his beaches. Delaware was very proud of his role as the first state, although he complained a lot about how the people from rest of the states had trouble remembering him. He also talked about his siblings a lot.

"Minnie and North would find meeting you really cool. They are states with a lot of Scandinavian people. A lot of the states that aren't adopted want to meet the countries that has the greatest cultural influences on them. Penny wants to meet Germany, and Mont wants to meet Canada and France." Delaware explained.

That was any other thing I found weird, not the state's having cultural influence from other countries, but the fact that the states seem unwilling to call America's family their own. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they've never, or never as America's kids, met them. Maybe it had something to do with the complicated history between Britain and America. Whatever the reason was, I found it odd, although reasonable for some states like Louisiana. France may be kind now, but she had a bloody history.

Although who doesn't?

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Denmark POV

Danish Virgin Islands was alive. When I sold her to America, I didn't expect her to live. I was upset and kept apologizing before the purchase was finalized. Now I realize what an idiot I was being. I should have only been concerned about V's death if she became a state. Philippines was the same person he had been before becoming a part of America and after. And it made sense. America's territories where the same thing as colonies, and colonies always had countryhumans.

If only I had realized this, then I would have been able to spend time with V. Maybe the other territories could of met the other countries, as everyone's met, or at least seen the territories/colonies of Britain and France, among others.

"Are you okay Far? (Dad)" I heard V ask. I smiled.

"Just thinking about how I was an idiot not to realize you would have been alive. You're an American territory!" I explained. V laughed.

"True. Although the relationship between the territories and Dad's government has always been weird. While the other territories and I have to follow the US Constitution and are American citizens, American Samoa doesn't because he's an unincorporated territory. Although everyone agrees that his unincorporated status is stupid and needs to be fixed." V explained.

"American Samoa? Is he related to Samoa?" I asked V as I recognized the familiar name. V's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"I'm not to sure. American Samoa joined us when the local tribes of his islands ceded the islands to Dad. American Samoa didn't have a personification before then. So we're pretty sure he's biologically Dad's, although I don't see it outside the realm of possibility for him to be related to Samoa." V explained.

"That seems...confusing." I said. I was a bit uncomfortable. As happy as I was to be reunited with V again, a lot of time has past. V definitely has changed. I knew the Danish Virgin Islands, but how much did V change since living with America?

"Everything involving America is. Things happen so fast it's hard to keep track of them. Like those murder hornets that appeared for like, a week, and then everyone just stopped talking about them."

"Wait, murder hornets?" I asked, worried after hearing about the murder hornets. V made a dismissal gesture.

"Yeah, don't worry about it though." She said, waving off my concern over the fact that there were murder hornets in America. What did murder hornets even mean? It was a very vague and concerning phrase.

"You said murder hornets and expect me not to be worried?" I asked.

"Yeah. So, anyways, how have things been for you?" V said, changing the subject. I pushed the topic of murder hornets to the back of my mind. That was something to worry about later. Right now I was going to catch up with my daughter.

"Good. How are you? It's been a while since we talked." I said. V smiled.

"Yeah, it really has. I've been good. I love all of my siblings. They've been really nice, if reluctant to give me and the other territories statehood. I fine without it, although D and Rico have been making pushes towards statehood." V said.

"I'm glad you like having siblings. Do you like staying with America?" I asked. I wanted to make sure V was happy in her life with America.

"Yes! Dad is very nice, and while he does get busy with the more troublesome states and paperwork, he tries to make time for everyone. He is very good at listening to us about our problems, and is good at meditating through our disagreements. Although he's gotten very annoyed at 'Hio and Michi for arguing over everything. Even York and Mass can get along every once in a while." V explained.

I didn't recognize the names of any of the states, aside from New York, although I didn't know much about America geography, so that was to be expected.

"Who's Michi? And Mass?" I asked, curious about V's new siblings. Mass had been mentioned by New York and America, which made me curious as to who he was.

"Michi is Michigan, and 'Hio is Ohio. They're basically sworn enemies." V explained. I recognized those names from the reveal of America's states yesterday.

"America mentioned them before. Something about a war?" I asked V, curious if two of America's  states actually went to war. Would that count as a civil war then, or something else? V's lips curled into an amused grin.

"The Toledo War. Not so much a war as a political dispute. I don't know much about it though. You're better off asking Dad." V explained.

"And Mass?" I asked, curious over what states seemed to be disliked by other states.

"Massachusetts. He and New York mainly dislike each other because of baseball. Baseball season is never fun in our house because of that. So is football, although football rivalries are way worse. Honestly, the whole United part of Dad's name is a joke. The states have rarely been united on anything." V said, letting out a little laugh.

That made sense to me. Even though I was a part of the EU, that didn't mean I got along with all of the countries in the EU. I only makes sense that the same would apply to the states in America.

"Do you all disagree on everything because of sports?" I asked. V shrugged.

"A lot of disagreements are about sports, but some states will look for any excuse to hate the others. Jersey has claimed time and time again that he hates everyone and likes no one. But we all know he secretly likes us, even if he pretends he doesn't." V said with a smile.

"Jeg er glad for at du er glad." (I'm glad you're happy.)I said, sad that I had been stupid enough to believe my daughter was dead, but happy as she was alive, and I could spend time with her again.

"Det er jeg også." (So am I) V responded, giving me the smile I always remembered her having. Her face my have changed, her home may have changed, but she hadn't. And I was so thankful for that.

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This Line Break will take you to Alaska's conversation with Russia and the others. That just means we're going back a  bit.

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Russia POV

I had an Uncle who was an American state. This wasn't something I ever expected to hear, but it was true. Did this mean I was technically related to America? Блядь. I didn't know how to feel about this, and I'm not sure if any of my siblings felt the same way.

Alaska was staring at us after he sat down. I saw Texas introducing another state behind him, but I wasn't paying attention to that.

"Добры дзень." (Hello) Belarus said, smiling. Alaska nodded his head at her.

"It's nice to meet you. I don't have the best experience with your father and grandfather, so forgive if I'm a bit suspicious about anything." Alaska said. I nodded, thinking back to what Alaska had said about being neglected by my grandfather. I have never known my Дед (Grandfather), but my Папа had never said anything good about him.

And the deal America had mentioned having with my Папа, that they wouldn't hurt each other's states to protect their own states. Palau had mentioned that America wanted to keep the states secret to protect them from enemies, but my Папа knew. Did that mean that some of the states were unaware of the deal?

America had always been someone who was hard to figure out, but everything I learned something about him, he just made less sense.

"I'm sorry about anything our тато did." Ukraine said. Alaska gave a sad smile and shock his head.

"Don't apologize for things that aren't your fault. My biological dad was horrible to me and my Anax̂, and USSR was determined to keep me out of the family because I was an American. It's not your fault they're idiots." Alaska said. Kazakhstan frowned.

"Is your aнам, your mom, still alive? You talk about he like she's still alive, but wouldn't she be dead since your a part of America?" Kazakhstan asked. That was a question that confused me. Alaska made it sound like his mother was one of the native tribes in America. But they would be dead since America was the entire country and consisted of all the native people and tribes as well, right?

"No, a lot of the native tribes have survived, mainly because Adax̂ recognized a lot of the tribes as being their own nations and the tribes are in charge of the land on their reservations. There is over 300 tribes who have their own reservations, and Adax̂ recognizes over 500. My Anax̂ is still alive because of that, although she has a different name." Alaska explained to us.

There were countryhumans for over 500 of America's native tribes? America probably isn't related to any of them because he is Britain's son, and not the son of one of the native tribes. The fact that they're were alive was surprising. While colonized countries would have native people who live in their country, I've never heard of one having the countryhumans of the native  people alive.

I was young though. Even though I spent a long time as a soviet state, I had only been a country for twenty-nine, almost thirty years. Did the older countries like Norway or Spain know about countries have countryhumans for their native people. Was this just another weird American thing, or was it like this for all of the countries that had native people. Did they hide the existence of countryhumans for native people to protect them?

"Are you serious? Can countryhumans for the native people of other countries be alive too?" Belarus asked. Alaska shrugged.

"I know the American ones are alive, but not any others. Amtal." He said. Two states burst in through the doors and introduced themselves. I turned to face them just to hear the say something about reincarnations.

"Oh great. Del left the states unsupervised. I really hope D, Mont and Ginny are there, otherwise I won't have a home to go back to." Alaska muttered. Who were those states that Alaska mentioned and why did they influence were he lived?

"I'm confused. What does Del have to do with where you live? And who is Del?" Ukraine asked. Alaska rolled his eyes and pointed to one of the states that had barged in, who had a yellow diamond.

"That's Del. Short for Delaware. It's mainly a joke based around the fact that he, along with Vermont, Virginia and DC are the only states that can break up most fights between other states. And since fights between states can get dramatic, something will end up destroyed. Like my house for one." Alaska explained smiling.

"It sound chaotic there." Kazakhstan said.

"It is. But I wouldn't have it any other way. It would be too weird." Alaska said before sighing, his face falling. He looked to be in deep though.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Alaska gave me a look.

"I'm fine. I'm just nervous. Like I said, I don't have the best experience with your family." Alaska said.

"Why'd you say your family? Aren't you a part of our family as well?" Belarus asked. Alaska shook his head.

"Not at the moment. I have no intention of claiming Российская империя as my father, not after what he put Anax̂ through. As for USSR, when he died, we were on bad terms, and I don't want to forgive him at the movement, not until I have proof he was sorry for what he did. My family is Adax̂ and all of the states and territories that make him up. I'll accept you as family, but only once you prove I can trust you." Alaska explained.

"You have trust issues." I said. Ukraine, Belarus, and Kazakhstan all sent me looks that said to shut up. Alaska laughed.

"Aren't you offended?" Kazakhstan asked. Alaska shook his head.

"Wait until you meet my siblings. Trust me, they are all incredibly blunt and will never give up an opportunity to tell you something they dislike about you. My favorite sibling is Washington." Alaska said, laughing a little bit more.

"Siblings. There one job is too annoy you." Belarus said. Alaska snorted, rolling his eyes.

"You have no idea. If I hear Tex say he is the largest state one more time, I'm going to kill him. I'm bigger than, like, half of the United States." Alaska complained. Kazakhstan's wings spread out a bit as he gigged at Alaska's sentence, knocking Ukraine's flower crown off of his head.

"Серйозно Казахстан? Вам довелося це збити? Ви намагаєтесь довести свою аргументацію? " (Seriously Kazakhstan? You had to knock it off? Are you trying to prove a point?) Ukraine asked as he picked his flower crown up.

"Жоқ. Жоқ. Бұл өте нашар уақыттағы апат болды. Кешіріңіз."(No. No. No. It was an accident with really bad timing. I'm sorry.) Kazakhstan responded. I looked over to Alaska to see him looking confused.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Alaska looked at me and nodded.

"I don't understand what they are saying. Russian is the only language outside of my official  languages that I know. I'm going to have to try and learn the basics of their languages." Alaska said as he gestured to my siblings.

Alaska seemed like a kind person, but there was something about him that I couldn't figure out. I didn't really know what to make of my Uncle. He was hard to figure out, and as much as he wanted to avoid calling us family, he had a happy look in his eyes whenever he talked to us. I think Alaska wants to accept us as family, but he's scared.

And if we're being honest, I am too.

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Mexico POV

"Madre meet Cali. They're a bit weary of meeting you for some strange reason." Texas said. Seeing mi hijo again was amazing. I though he has died, but he was alive. And I had another child!

I was crushed to learn that California didn't want to meet me. Just because I hadn't been in their life before doesn't mean that I wouldn't want to be now. They had only been a country for veinticinco días (Twenty-five days)!

That's not enough time to establish diplomatic relations with other countries, especially after your two neighboring countries just got out of a war. If I had met California before they became a state, would they have wanted to meet me?

"Hola. ¿Como estás?" (Hello. How are you?) California asked after staring at me for a while. They had a calm expression in their face, but their eyes betrayed nervousness.

"Bien. ¿Y tu?" (Good. And you?) I responded California bit their lip. Texas rolled his eyes.

"No matter how much you want to say you didn't want to meet Madre, we both can tell that you're nervous about it, which means that you probably wanted to." He said California shot him a glare.

"Fuck off Tex. You don't know anything about me you asshat." They said. Texas put his hands up in a surrender motion.

"Come on Cali, don't you think that's a bit harsh? Here I am, your big bro, who just wants you to stop pretendin' you never wanted to meet Madre." Texas said, clenching his jaw.

"Patahimikin mo tanga. Palagi kang kumikilos tulad ng alam mo kung ano ang ginagawa mo. Ayaw mo! Wala sa atin ang gumagawa! Kaya't tigilan mo na ang pag-arte tulad ng alam mo ang lahat Tex. Pagod na ako dito." California said to Texas, in a language I didn't recognize.

"That's just mean Cali. Now talk to Madre and stop yellin' at me." Texas said, annoyed with whatever California had told him.

"California. I know I never got to be a mother to you, but if you would let me be your mother, I would be glad to take up that position. Por favor (please). Let me have a spot in your life California." I told them, hoping that California would accept my offer.

I love Texas, and regardless of the bad blood between us when he joined America, I was heartbroken at his 'death.' If I had know California was alive when they joined America, I would have mourned them just as fiercely as I had mourned my son.

I wanted to be a mother to my children. Texas had forgiven me for the events that happened during the Texas Revolution, and I hoped California could accept my offer of peace.

I may not have known California during their days as a country, but that didn't mean I don't want to be a part of their days as a state.

"I...I never needed a mom. I don't know how to have one. Besides, I never knew you and you just met me, and I already have a Padre, so I don't think it necessary." California explained.

Dios, (God) that hurt. My child had just basically disowned me. I felt tears prick in my eyes as I though back to Texas declaring independence. All the heartbreak and the pain that came from me gaining a son, just one that hated me.

"Really Cali? You're graspin' at straws for an excuse to avoid Madre. What the fuck are you so afraid of?" Texas angrily demanded, causing some of the Latin American countries that had been talking to Puerto Rico and the other American states that were children of my father.

"I'm not grasping at straws Tex. You have no clue what you're talking about! It's a legitimate excuse. Why can't you see that?" California accused, pushing their sunglasses up their face from where they had slid during their exclamation.

"Do you two get into an argument over everything?" I asked. Texas and California seemed to dislike each other a lot. America said they were political opposites, so they probably have conflicting viewpoints.

I was nervous about having to manage my children if they argued a lot. I never had the best relationship with Texas with it came to solving problems. I also didn't know enough about California to know if I was offending them instead of fixing the problem.

"We argue because there are many differences between us." California said, their tone harsh as they shot a small glare towards Texas, who scowled.

"One thing we have in common is our mom. Just talk to her Cali! This is literally the first time you've met her and you're basing your opinion on the fact she didn't know you were alive. You were a country for twenty five days! That's not enough time to met every other country. Stop being stubborn and just give her a chance!" Texas said, putting his hands on California's shoulders and looking them in the eyes.

I saw America had looked over from his conversation with his family to look at Texas and California. He had a thoughtful look on his face. Canada tapped on his shoulder and America turned around.

I wonder what America did that for. Was he afraid that Texas and California were going to have another fight? They did already have a fight today and America made it sound like that was a normal occurrence.

"Fine. Hello...You can call me Cali. I don't really know what to say to you." California-no Cali said. They looked very nervous.

"Well, what are your interests?" I asked. I wanted to learn more about Cali. They smiled.

"I have the home to Hollywood, so I'm really into filmmaking. I also really like making new tech, mainly because of Silicon Valley. I do that with Washington, the state, since he also has a ton of tech nerds." Cali said. I smiled.

"That's cool. Is there anything else you do?" I asked. I wanted to know as much as I could about my child.

"Get set on fire!" Texas called. I shot Cali a horrified look. They get set on fire? Are they okay? Cali rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on. It's not usually this bad." Cali protested. Cali usually gets set on fire?

"¿Usualmente te prenden fuego? Cali, ¿estás bien?" (You usually get set on fire? Cali are you okay?) I asked, standing up as my concern for my child grew.

"Don't worry about it. Wildfires happen in my state a lot. I'm used to it." Cali said.

"And you make the rest of us deal with it." Texas muttered under his breath.

"Would you rather me be on fire?" Cali asked Texas. Texas rolled his eyes. I laughed. Cali and Texas may not act like they get along, but it was easy to tell that they cared for each other.

"Maybe." Texas said.

"TEX YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Cali yelled.

"WE HAVE THE SAME MOM! SHE'S RIGHT THERE!" Texas yelled back, gesturing to me. I began laughing. The relationship between my children was weird and hilarious.

"Oh right. Sorry Madre. Normally you aren't around so I can cuss out Texas without it being awkward." Cali explained.

"You need to stop cussing out Tex. You guys are reaching 'Hio v Michi or York v Mass levels of arguments." Delaware said, crossing his arms. America nodded.

"Del's right. You two need to stop fighting over any small thing you can disagree over." America said.

"Oh come on Pa. We ain't that bad. You've seen 'Hio and Michi. How can we be that bad?" Texas protested.

"I dealt with the Toledo War firsthand. I know how bad 'Hio and Michi can be. Michi wasn't even alive when the Toledo War happened." America protested.

"Yeah, so how are we that bad?" Cali asked.

"Four fights in less than an hour. That's more than 'Hio and Michi on a bad day. They can keep it under two." America explained.

"That's because we have a group of states-"

"The Midwest"

"Yes the Midwest. Anyway they're in charge of keepin' those two apart." Texas finished after the being interrupted by New York.

"Fair enough, but if you guys don't stop turning every conversation into an argument, we'll have to do the same for you." America told them. Texas rolled his eyes.

"Alright Pa we get it." He said before turning back to me and Cali.

"America and Delaware are right. You guys do fight a lot. I don't know the other states they mentioned, but you do turn most conversations into a fight. Can I have a conversation with you without it turning into a fight?" I asked. Texas and California exchanged looks.

"We can try." California said.

"What do you wanna talk about?" Texas asked. I began asking them questions about their lives and what they were interested. I was glad to be reunited with my son, and I was glad that I have another child. I just hope Cali will be able to accept me as family.

#secret states by weird #weird’s wattpad stories #statehumans #countryhumans #writing

[muggycuphead]

Hey look I did my take on a concept idea for a possible FNF AGK mod because why not lol

**WARNING!!**

This concept is actually based off of a real person and their backstory as well, not to mention it slightly contains strong topics such as school shooting allusions along with mental issues, yet I’m not meaning to glorify or romanticize these with this as I’m aware of how actually serious the matter is.

Viewed discretion is advised.

So yeah, I’m stuck on this whole FNF now and well…I’m trying to get out a little from it

Welp, let’s just get this rolling right round over here

Although my first idea for this was to make it a 5-6 phased level, each one referring to a façade of the Echter Gangster videos along with Norman’s actual rapper persona ‘Hercules Beatz’, after digging around the music he made surrounding his life during the hype of his satirical persona, and remembering that one video-documental covering it, I decided to make it a little more into his actual real-life story for the sake of making it more ‘true’ to the character (and cuz I think it’s truly inspiring as many would say)

Yet I’m still a little dum dum around the whole FNF stuff, so if there is something I might be lacking on over here, let me pretty please know

Aaand yes I accidentallydrew the sprites facing leftways (on Boyfriend’s position instead of the boss’), so beware for any technical mistakes in the drawings that I just gave up on fixing while editing the scans for the sake of better quality and lineart neatness (such as a weird-looking keyboard and stuff)

Anyway, these are my designs for the phases along with the environment’s characteristics:

Phase I – Der Echte Gangster kind

‘Yo homie! It’s the one and only, Leopold Slikk!’

Song suggestions:

WAS WILLST DU TUN

By Hercules Beatz

I’m a Real Gangster

By QPHX ft. Hercules Beatz

Scenario:

“Leopold’s” Neighbourhood (Monochrome Blue)

Author’s commentary: His design was kinda hard but real fun to make, and as you might guess, each item he has resembles a façade on his videos, such as the striped- puffy jacket referring to Das Murderische Jagd and that one video with him wearing a long white coat and stuff (also has to do with the fancy cigarette on his other hand) and the metal sign on his hand referring to Metaler, etc.

Also, I held myself from giving him the CV:C’R’ hairdo since Leroy is more like in a character ‘neutral point’ between Leopold and Norman (a fusion basically) and because it doesn’t match exactly with the original so ye

He still cute tho

Cute edgy bad boi...though he just acting but still

Phase II – The Angry German Shooter

‘…’

Song suggestion:

ANGRY GERMAN KID

By Hercules Beatz

Possible scenarios:

-School resemblance (Distorted Mind Perspective)

-Distressed Subsconcious Mind side

Author’s commentary: Okay, now I’m getting serious here I based this one off of the song’s cover in the (official?) video it got uploaded in, as you can tell by the black-dyed hair and markings on his face. The bottle and cans behind him, along with the Kalashnikov (or AK-47 to be more clear) he’s holding and the shattered keyboard below/broken glasses next to his foot, are an allusion not only to the ‘shooting threat’ event where he was drunk and stuff, but also his darkest years because of you know what. But aside from that, just fyi no the Kalashnikov wasn’t the hardest thing for me to draw but the pose of the mic-holding arm, I originally wanted it to be forwards, maybe holding one or two alcohol bottles, but I just gave up long after a few more attempts. And please don’t ask me why I picked these clothes for him specifically, I just wanted to think out a simple yet concordant outfit for his ‘broken self’

Still, yikes about those guys in the news and the comments on his PC spielen video in the old days of the net They clearly couldn’t distinguish between real and satire And yeah I might have had my silly thoughts while watching the parodies and stuff, but even I would leave the benefit of doubt and not be so scummy/cold like these guys, jesus christ

Phase II – H E R C U L E S B E A T Z

‘Yo, remember me?’

Song suggestions:

KING LIFE (Sunshine Remix)

MASSAKER [Secret extra boss?]

By Hercules Beatz

Possible scenarios:

-The Gym (outfit change possibility)

-The Night Club

-Norman’s (new?) Neighbourhood

Author’s commentary: Oml yess the man of steel on all his glory

I’m aro ik(?) but I can still say he’s quite handsome IRL, props to the man for taking care of himself, clap clap

Back to the topic, I honestly first though this one would be a pain to do…but surprisingly it came out really soft and fun, who could’ve thought? Guess the practice with buff characters, along with some new anatomy techniques I’ve been trying out did pay off after all

Also yeah the girl next to him is a recreation (my recreation mostly) of his gal, though the clothing I chose for her was mostly to match Norman’s outfit but in a softie-raddie style because reasons…and yes she also has a turn on the mic, a two-turns-me-two-turns-you dynamic to be more specific

And whoops I forgot the little back-down hair below his ears…oh well, not like it’s that much of a deal

The ‘bright’ eye on the other was just a silly detail I left there to give him a ‘savage’ vibe, nothing else. And as a little plus, if I were to make the sprites for when they have to rap, I’d do a particular one for each where there’s a little cuddle between them just to make it wholesome and stuff y’know- (left arrow for Norman, right arrow for his bae)

As for that ‘secret boss’ thing I put before, it’d think it like a ‘day-date-unlocked easter egg’ with a more ‘hardcore’ design and gameplay (if it ever goes to that point which I doubt but ok) where he goes entirely in solo and ‘full blast’ while his bae shares a seat in the boombox (a bigger one possibly) with Girlfriend and they both follow the rhythm as their boys get ready to 1v1 each other on the stage

So yea, that’s basically it

Imma head out now, bye

#angry german kid #leopold slikk #norman kochanowski #hercules beatz #keyboard crasher #friday night funkin' #fnf #friday night funkin mod idea #rap #hip hop #this guy is a real chad

[libraryofvenus]

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

I. The Burial of the Dead

 April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch. And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s, My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

 What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.                      Frisch weht der Wind                      Der Heimat zu                      Mein Irisch Kind,                      Wo weilest du? “You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; “They called me the hyacinth girl.” —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Oed’ und leer das Meer.

 Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, Had a bad cold, nevertheless Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations. Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: One must be so careful these days.

 Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson! “You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! “That corpse you planted last year in your garden, “Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? “Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? “Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men, “Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again! “You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”

             II. A Game of Chess

The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, Glowed on the marble, where the glass Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines From which a golden Cupidon peeped out (Another hid his eyes behind his wing) Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra Reflecting light upon the table as The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it, From satin cases poured in rich profusion; In vials of ivory and coloured glass Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes, Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air That freshened from the window, these ascended In fattening the prolonged candle-flames, Flung their smoke into the laquearia, Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling. Huge sea-wood fed with copper Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam. Above the antique mantel was displayed As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale Filled all the desert with inviolable voice And still she cried, and still the world pursues, “Jug Jug” to dirty ears. And other withered stumps of time Were told upon the walls; staring forms Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed. Footsteps shuffled on the stair. Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair Spread out in fiery points Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.

 “My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me. “Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.  “What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? “I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

 I think we are in rats’ alley Where the dead men lost their bones.

 “What is that noise?”                          The wind under the door. “What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”                           Nothing again nothing.                                                        “Do “You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember “Nothing?”

      I remember Those are pearls that were his eyes. “Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”  

                                                                          But O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag— It’s so elegant So intelligent “What shall I do now? What shall I do?” “I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street “With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow? “What shall we ever do?”                                               The hot water at ten. And if it rains, a closed car at four. And we shall play a game of chess, Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

 When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said— I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself, HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart. He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there. You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you. And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert, He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time, And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said. Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said. Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said. Others can pick and choose if you can’t. But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling. You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique. (And her only thirty-one.) I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face, It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said. (She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.) The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same. You are a proper fool, I said. Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said, What you get married for if you don’t want children? HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon, And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot— HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight. Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

             III. The Fire Sermon

 The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

A rat crept softly through the vegetation Dragging its slimy belly on the bank While I was fishing in the dull canal On a winter evening round behind the gashouse Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck And on the king my father’s death before him. White bodies naked on the low damp ground And bones cast in a little low dry garret, Rattled by the rat’s foot only, year to year. But at my back from time to time I hear The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

Twit twit twit Jug jug jug jug jug jug So rudely forc’d. Tereu

Unreal City Under the brown fog of a winter noon Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants C.i.f. London: documents at sight, Asked me in demotic French To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.

At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting, I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives, Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea, The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights Her stove, and lays out food in tins. Out of the window perilously spread Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays, On the divan are piled (at night her bed) Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays. I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest— I too awaited the expected guest. He, the young man carbuncular, arrives, A small house agent’s clerk, with one bold stare, One of the low on whom assurance sits As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire. The time is now propitious, as he guesses, The meal is ended, she is bored and tired, Endeavours to engage her in caresses Which still are unreproved, if undesired. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defence; His vanity requires no response, And makes a welcome of indifference. (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows one final patronising kiss, And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .

She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover; Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: “Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.” When lovely woman stoops to folly and Paces about her room again, alone, She smoothes her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone.

“This music crept by me upon the waters” And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street. O City city, I can sometimes hear Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, The pleasant whining of a mandoline And a clatter and a chatter from within Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls Of Magnus Martyr hold Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.

              The river sweats               Oil and tar               The barges drift               With the turning tide               Red sails               Wide               To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.               The barges wash               Drifting logs               Down Greenwich reach               Past the Isle of Dogs.                                 Weialala leia                                 Wallala leialala

              Elizabeth and Leicester               Beating oars               The stern was formed               A gilded shell               Red and gold               The brisk swell               Rippled both shores               Southwest wind               Carried down stream               The peal of bells               White towers                                Weialala leia                                Wallala leialala

“Trams and dusty trees. Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.”

“My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart Under my feet. After the event He wept. He promised a ‘new start.’ I made no comment. What should I resent?”

“On Margate Sands. I can connect Nothing with nothing. The broken fingernails of dirty hands. My people humble people who expect Nothing.”                       la la

To Carthage then I came

Burning burning burning burning O Lord Thou pluckest me out O Lord Thou pluckest

burning

             IV. Death by Water

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss.                                   A current under sea Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth Entering the whirlpool.                                   Gentile or Jew O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

             V. What the Thunder Said

 After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying Prison and palace and reverberation Of thunder of spring over distant mountains He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience

Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water If there were water we should stop and drink Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If there were only water amongst the rock Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit There is not even silence in the mountains But dry sterile thunder without rain There is not even solitude in the mountains But red sullen faces sneer and snarl From doors of mudcracked houses                                      If there were water   And no rock   If there were rock   And also water   And water   A spring   A pool among the rock   If there were the sound of water only   Not the cicada   And dry grass singing   But sound of water over a rock   Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees   Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop   But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman —But who is that on the other side of you?

What is that sound high in the air Murmur of maternal lamentation Who are those hooded hordes swarming Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth Ringed by the flat horizon only What is the city over the mountains Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air Falling towers Jerusalem Athens Alexandria Vienna London Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings And crawled head downward down a blackened wall And upside down in air were towers Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home. It has no windows, and the door swings, Dry bones can harm no one. Only a cock stood on the rooftree Co co rico co co rico In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust Bringing rain

Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves Waited for rain, while the black clouds Gathered far distant, over Himavant. The jungle crouched, humped in silence. Then spoke the thunder DA Datta: what have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment’s surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed Which is not to be found in our obituaries Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms DA Dayadhvam: I have heard the key Turn in the door once and turn once only We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus DA Damyata: The boat responded Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar The sea was calm, your heart would have responded Gaily, when invited, beating obedient To controlling hands

                                   I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order? London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie These fragments I have shored against my ruins Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe. Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.                  Shantih     shantih     shantih

#poem #poetry #poem of the day #poemoftheday #literature #mustread #bookblr #books #reader #reading #quotes #must read #library #writers #writing #author #read #readers of tumblr #litblr #literatureblr #student #studentblr #studyblr #study #studyinspo #poets #british poetry

[calumthoodshands]

RULES: 8 song prompts, tag 8 people

I was tagged by molly @staticsounds and em @redrattlers thank you both!! 🧡

Favourite song at the moment

the angel of 8th ave. by Gang of Youths, I’d say. Car ride song. Feeling infinitely song. Yk? Such a comforting voice, such a nice vibe, just 10/10. I won’t mention starting line here simply because if you don’t listen to it already, that’s you own fault for missing out, pal.

A song you associate with your favourite ship

Take on the world by You Me At Six. Which is a fucking sad song, i now realise. It is not the only song I associate with cake tbf but i won’t name the other song for reasons here. Idk, it’s the ‘i’m there for you despite not knowing everything there is’ vibe ig, because you never truly know someone through and through and so on. I also associate it with several damn sad fics somehow. Sigh. Cake do be my life atm

A song that could be about you

Idk, i have to be honest here. I don’t know myself. I don’t know why am i the way i am and idk what’s happening around me and with people around me and also it’s just stupidly unlikely that there’d be a song about me so i’m just gonna... pass here.

A song you think is underrated

Homesick by Dua Lipa and i’m gonna squeeze in a second one: Lay it all on me by Rudimental feat. Ed Sheeran. Homesick is just beautiful. It’s so, so beautiful and just... yeah. It got to my heart. I even used it in my fic because i like it so much. Isn’t a lot of her older stuff underrated anyway? Can i add another one of her songs, because Be the one is also such a fucking banger and the first song i heard from her. Lol. I really do like both the songs a lot.

Lay it all on me is actually one of my favourite songs i think ever? I don’t think i can ever get sick of it. Rudimental make sick stuff in general but this is just next level idk idk the chorus with headphones and full volume? — chef’s kiss. Can listen to it on loop for hours i think.

A song that reminds you of a good memory

Y’all this is gonna be such trash to some of you i think but if anyone does listen to it — it does slap. It’s called Keine Liebe by RIN feat. Bausa. The bass, man. The chorus. The recycling of Du trägst keine Liebe in dir by Echt. The day this reminds me of my best friend’s birthday and i think we had maybe the best day and party ever. I felt like myself that day and i don’t think i’ve ever felt that good in my own skin and mind, so. (Mimi if you see this tell me your opinion here lol)

I’m gonna name one more: More than you know by Axwell /\ Ingrosso. Summer ‘18 in Italy. Best summer of my life, with some of the best people. Take me fucking back to the beach and Rome and Capri, island love of my life. This song slaps and i think it’s one of the songs i heard the most times during a limited period of time. It was insane. I’m impressed i haven’t gotten sick of it actually lmao.

The last song you listened to

Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction. It just slaps and has the ideal Zayn and Harry vibes i love about Four so much. 10/10. Also perfect showcasing of all of their voices here. And the harmonies, sign me the fuck up, ‘tied down’ — harry styles, come here now. Remember the video where he sings the echo of ‘done’ and is so proud of himself? Lol. Baby, look what you’ve done, done, done, indeed.

A song that makes you laugh

Yodel it! by Ilinca, Alex Florea. I’m sorry, the attempt of trying to make yodeling mainstream-appropriate is just so amusing me. Like, they’re serious about this. I’m sorry it’s fucking funny to me. You shouldn’t be surprised that it’s an ESC song either here lmao (mili pspspsps). The yodeling in the end has me so goddamn weak it’s so over the top like ma’am are you in a race here — i can’t talk about this I’m already laughing.

A song you want your mutuals to listen to

I’ve talked so much here already so, all plain: Witchcraft by Bohnes. 10/10.

I’m tagging,,,, @talkfastcal @bente-gifs @calumsash @highscal @faeryphilia @till-the-sunshine-fades idk if y’all did it already, and no pressure ofc!! 🧡 i can’t count to 8 sorry <3

#someone: talk about thr songs you like; me: deep inhale #this. went out of control a littlr #does it show that music makes up an incredibly big part if my kife i hope not #*of my life ffs #tag game #music rec #in a way ig #sry molly and em i’m sure you expected less #should not from me though #sigh #aria.talks

[gunsatthaphan]

Hey german anon is back🌸💜

So Thct has endend, now my emotional support comedy Bl doesn't cheer me up once a week anymore. The only Lichtblick is a Tale of a 1000 stars, have been waiting too long for that.

I watched Thct with my sister any boyy did we take like twice the time of an episode to watch it, because we would pause, laugh and rewatch scenes. We were so hyped every week.

Anyways, only from my sister I heard how it was hated amd idk what people's problems are?? I don't read reviwes of things I like/enjoy (especially if there is a lot of hate). Don't need that bad energy in my life. But to all of them who hate that (or other) shows why the fuck did you complete it?? Like I have a few shows taht I don't like and I just drop them???

So back to the show, man was the last episode fun. The verbal attack Chonlatees mother made on Tonhons father, iconic. Yeah i saw the thing with Miriam being the surrogate mother from a mile but oh did I love it. Na got a boyfriend, sweet. But omg Ai and Ni were just perfect, the faces the dialogue everything we loved them.

So anyway I nned to find something that gives me my serotonin now. But also there are some shows I need to catch up on so.... and uni.... i should probably study.

Anyways how are you doing? Any shows you enjoy at the moment?

We just got new snow and in a way it is pretty in an other it is annoying❄🌨.

hiiiii!!!!! 🌸💜

it’s so good to hear back from you because I always love reading your asks!!! 🥺❤️

If you think I have processed the thct finale then you’re wrong skfdds I really can’t let it go 😩😭 I’m glad we still have MOD though and of course 1000 stars! im really curious about that one as well.

MAN I wish I would’ve had someone irl to watch thct with omg.... the perks of being the only one in ur friendgroup that watches these shows lol 😬 but anyway I bet that was so much fun lol. Also YESSSS the scene with the mom was ICONIC lmaooo. I have never laughed so hard. I did NOT see that surrogacy coming,,,,, the way i gasped jkhdfs. I love it though. I wish they would’ve shown Chon as an actual co-parent though. Another thing I didn’t like was how they resolved the dad’s homophobia by him wanting a granchild like??? the fuck. I do love Miriam being their surrogate though. Also I’m SO happy Na got a boyfriend 🥺 And Ai and Ni are highkey the stars of the show anyway lol 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

regarding your other comment - I agree & I really don’t wanna talk about all the hate anymore; I blocked the tag after ep1 and I never went into it again and yet I still get asks and messages about how awful it is....it’s so exhausting and YES of course I understand that there are some grey areas like I’m not that blind lmao. But I have my reasons why I still like it and I’m so tired of explaining myself over and over again. So I’ll just let it go. das ist mir alles echt zu anstrengend dsjkf. die können mich alle mal :)

I’m doing okay at the moment. we’re still in weird times and things could be better, obviously. But I’m somehow coping. I think. dsjkhf. thank you for asking though!! ❤️ I hope you’re doing well, also YAY to the snow??? I love it so much. And if you’re looking for some serotonin, you should check out We Best Love!! it’s very cute and funny! It’s currently airing :)

have a wonderful day!!! ❤️

xxx

#this is my final comment on the thct debacle #if you want to come at me go ahead #you will be ignored #if you wanna scream with me about the finale then please do #so i can join you #lol #<3 #Anonymous #ask #doreen answers

[rwmhunt]

Leviticus, Chapter 22

1. Lo, for That I cannot prosecute my thoughts; I needst here cultivate caution- Then put a hold unto my options, That I cannot challenge him. Any source of information, That be of an admixture truth, And of an admixture untruth, is of a danger, Did you know that? Humbly needst I move toward diamonds and gold's Otherwise-useless demarkation on worth; My face must stay its specter in clay, For it is my career; That I can say: It is mine.

2. Thus, to Aaron, gold and diamonds Bringeth ignominy and unwarranted power; Strewth, they are only much use for The rings of your finger; So let alone the past, Which you mark As a messed up place, How then, is this the valid Strategy for the future? Lo, let us divide and game.

3. Increase the paywall; Holy things are ringing in changes; You are the visitor here- I'd like to take the time To consciously consider you so, for We have reached besmircher's cutoff. It's me, mark it; and Either I am a negative nebulae Of unimaginable everything, And you are a little golden bull, Or you are a negative nebulae Of unimaginable everything, And I am a little golden bull;

4. But know that I shall not give you the word For the thought-track down which You might draw the line Of asymetry, such, That you wouldst know How to rend a perfect opposition To go between. And whosoever soweth dead seeds Among young female researchers Hath faileth the épreuve- It shalln’t do for thy running issue, Moreover, those women who are of Quite senior position and are doing it Unto the coercive nature of such a power's New destruction of ability to focus, As unto the camp's commander, With how Peleg begat Reu; Well, it might be enough to get you pregnant, But wait, where am I going with this?

5. Worm touchers, Creepy pressers, Come, come, observers, Keep from that strange creature; Don't be giving unto me None of thy screaming abdabs; I think on you, Pig dressed as a clown, Eructing unto, then drawing forth A near-entire white, plastic fork; And know you not how this came to me- Lo, it came up with a sequence of items that appeared Not unlike balls of meat, Furred, wistfully, in a grey cowl of reactionary mucus; A kind of veil, a barrier, in effect, Penetratable, at any point, But equally real as a barrier, Gainst our otherwise passive environs, Such as be the diffusion of inert thoughts, or spores, murky, and maintaining of a human resource, I liked to thrill it- The direct and immediate livid relationship Between a font of funding and a media event, O, harmless dalliance of the stationary cupboard- You are knowingly walking, As against your will, A wrong into the carpet, Within the tent of meaning.

6. Looking up to see God's face in the moon, Or whatever it was That can't be drawn, And I won't be drawn; His hands he filled with moisture and His own was sent for ablution Into the improvised basin. So denieth all such allegation Through the washing of thy soule, Clean off; so sloughed away, Away with the diminishing liquid.

7. Sundown with the unseen Woman's leverage on the situation- if you should find a way to redress balance, So she gaineth a bit more power in some manner, Then so what? it was no loss. A new deal, And the bill shall embolden survivors.

8. Positions of power shall have of a hard time In recognizing the coercive nature of that power Within an unbridled relationship; Things that die 'Of themselves', Or are yet rent by nature's horn, Are defiled; while I, a malign influence, lie with my soul distracted; Oh lord, but I've been swallowed by narrative, And tried to keep it communal, Inside and outside; As you are.

9. Pit stop- The horror is the fact; The horror it unfolds Through legions of would-bes Without a meter, like me, Who have applied, Will apply, in perpetuity; Just do it, Or die; if then, As I am still.

10. The individual is always Hedging toward A private business model. Attention-seeking shalln't be of sin, no! Tis sensible, keep with a forward optioning- That's why i tell you, Soujerners and servents, Who art sent to the concession to collect me my messages- My tutu is a Fendi, And my codpiece is a Bosch. We live unto a roaring attention economy. But you're not up to it. I've given them a tomato one, And also I gave them a spaghetti- We struggle to attune to where I'm compelled- Ourselves, as groups, who feel of themselves As blunted against their lack in deserved attention, Because it is a powerful, a dangerous feeling.

11. So eat souls As paid for with a priest's money, On escrow, attention Has always been currency Though rendered unimaginable Since the falling-away of the gold-standard, As was borne unto the tent of meaning, Where every page has a piece carved out, To house an advert's grab For égards; No space is secure, For security hath put an advert thither.

12. Jade lock, To knock the donald offline, So unto a stranger, Gone off to scavenge, The framers that frame themselves As refuges for free-expression Shall be rent at the fringes, forcing A redirection, away from my personal kingdom.

13. But should she go prodigal, Whosoever you are, Howeverso you might express thyself, You may now have a crack at a global audience, With incentives and disproportionate benefits Offered unto the most shameless, The demand of each to pay what scarce attention Might be rendered unto others, To get some fraction of this nominally limited resource, As unto yourself alone. Such are these poor weapons, An oversharing, That, essayed to the personal, Stretcheth my nancy stories To breaking.

O Marigold, I was bad At that, in the territories of fandom, As forced to return Unto the track over and again- Such was my leaky comprehension; Only apparent to me in the afterward, And now, I cannot say I am better.

14. Whence, Enroute from the concession Shouldst be eaten of the item Without, thence, So anguished in the relish, Thou giveth a fifth Of the holy thing; So that the leg shall grow A starfish, whole . Then let us bend our dark tubers towards, And look the knot, as in at an eye-

15. What's gold and glitter, But to mock a toom, And maketh of myself A symbolic same, Wrought as an aesthetic echt; Where diplomacy is weak, The aesthetic be yet The sole portal unto The conveyance of meaning; Verily, here, that I keep within The aesthetic of thought Whereby action is always y, You are i, and The antagonist be markated x; Where holy might only Fall down to one's discretion, You should've known That I wouldst be so solid.

16. Or suffer them to bear the enquiry of trespass, Felt as an information glut, Whilst eating of their holy orders, Found relishing within the anguish, And those who want it, Want it as much as they can get it, And  there is more access than can be vaunted, For, in an attention economy, one is never not on. Yes, me. O the guilt.

17. Attention is akin to the spirit; That it be vital but conventionally invisible, And thus, think not very much upon it, But unto whom, being unable to share A simple encounter with it, Wouldst soon become an artifice of torture.

18. Tell Aaron et al ensundry, To take up of stock with sarcastic markets, Sarcastic markets and I, impunity; The sacrifice of your own will I hand you freely; or no; T'was never yours to oblate, But sacrifice thy quasi-will, As will thee, Which is mine, against The short hedge, Thus maketh me of a currency exchange.

19. And an haut stud dost thou, unto me, weasels? By your whimsically free-will sacrificing? How charmingly lame. I sense Actors at play, in a very long game Of grooming the disaffected- Call me my boys in- then Send a lie to the long deceiver, To use the ruse, in turn, like poison, For to wish you that which upon may be Enabling unto the benefit of thine enemy.

20. It's no hambone, No hobbling billy- If he tells or interferes I'll fill the well in; its Prophets in stocks and neck-irons time, Else tolerate such increasingly radical agendas Of such gleefully uninhibited platforms as Where followers might laugh At biblical memes and opine such as- 'I'd rather do drama than a play, where, You can't say, really, What you want to say.' Go long, my cowhands, go long.

21. And peace is a sacrifice Of the streaming platform, while Attention has always been currency, Same. Our abilities to pay heed are limited; Not so our abilities to theoretically receive of it; No need to adequately substantiate If you can bamboozle With all the time in the world, Ka-pow-ka, ching-ching, da-da, Badoo-daboo-baday; Trust-modesty, yay, verily. Humility is hard to sustain In an attention economy. I only see me accelerating.

22. Blind, broken, maimed; Cankered, scurvied, wan with the wen, Thus, by my lights, The fault shall be displaced, Be it cleaned or weeping, Tis a no-no, get me another. Such was The schism that fractured the donald, Sent out to extend a tortured metaphor, Became too much of a liability To be held in high office- But if the stranger doesn't come, After all the things I’ve done for him,

23. Well, it's alright for a free-will offering Which you feel compelled to go along with, But it's not good enough for a vow offering As be brought unto online-influencer culture, And it might be enough to get you pregnant But it shan't be enough to stir my interest- I require an extreme case of humility, Whereby a person giveth his all to a presence so completely selfish As to serveth no other purpose. It's me.

24. But the reality is far less complicated than Moses, Hiding his damage behind a veil of linked-up back-channels, Recoiling at what his fellow hardcore moderators attempt to oblate; Too engrossed within the tents to consider anything outwith While hoping the whole doesn’t spin out of control.

25. Corruption is in them, strangers, Bethinks, flooding an affiliated image board So thoroughly that it becometh abomination. Here increaseth the shamelessness of wanton Allegation,  terror co-option of a social platform, which struck with the rise of a reality magik-vision, Alike as came unto a mid-80s index of abundance, Shewn running away whilst attempting to make focus On the ever-deterioratingly indistinct Object of the distancing, that It’s only when, at stopping to think about it, That the understand can be ascertained as to quite how rife it is.

26. Here, he left a passing message for Those who might collectively commandeer: Abide by life; that, if, then, I wouldn't be here.

27. Debates about amplification And attention-hijacking form a Siege mentality Of the corrupted Federal Apparatus- For seven days beneath the dam, As then a fire spiralled further Toward a more outlandish means Of unconstitutional civic theatre,

28. Whereby a calfling must be made to last The night and know it's mother As having died before slaughter; So the community Moved in after it went dark, Enjoining, then modulating, then killing off, And now Your complexes are all cooked in, Deeply infringing upon the weirds of others.

29. So must you make sacrifice To your very free will, As to common patriotic causes, Or else be sieged Within the corrupt Federal Apparatus.

30. The fundamental thing is: You cant escape my attention economy; Eat everything now, For nothing shall be saved, And this same day shall be Until tomorrow; when again, it's me.

31. Lo, and you must; it's me, remember? But by now all this blood and all this law Was affecting them, as had long been within their dream, Where they have their own rules, quirks and cultures, Which they ignore at your peril; Where environments play out upon a knife-edge, And attention might simply be a lens Through which to read the events of the moment While running away.

32. Herein, power shall not be trusted To recognize affiliated abuses of power; Yet, check, however, before Redirecting such missives from my personal kingdom, For lo, there shall be nonesuch insubordination, As might mitigate against, for I shall be hallowed; Me me me me, So you;

33. Thus, I lay my notional claim Unto my servant-leadership- as bang, That brought you out of the land, Didn't it? Akhenaten to me. So Leviticus stood at The simply-inflated Size of Capitalism, To whom, hereto, On a bench they'd built Between themselves, Be here, thisway, is addressing- 'Imagine; You have been wrong For a long long time now.'

[xladyxfatex]

Chapter Fourteen (FMITN Book 1)

Days turned into weeks and as promised Finn had Jessica meet Bayley who as she was warned was definitely a hugger. The two became friends as was expected. However when it came time for her to meet Ricochet, she was extremely on edge and graude. She was poliety but not overly so and she seemed as though she wanted nothing to do with him. Finn tried asking her why and all he got was a whimper. One night he did what he shouldn’t and entered her mind once more. 

“Little gem, why do you fear Ricochet?” Balor asked trying to get the information so he could right the situation. A whimpering Jessica looked at Balor and sighed sadly.

“He’ll turn out like Jack, won’t he? I’m scared of what will happen if I let him close I don’t want to be hurt.” Another soft whimper left her lips and Balor sighed. He should have known it would be a fear like that.

“I promise you little gem, Ricochet is NOTHING like Jack, he has been nothing but loyal to me for far too long, his body is that of an 18 year old just like Bayley’s but their demons are much older just like myself. I swear to you he nothing like Jack.” Balor cooed and tried to relax Jessica.  Nodding she gave her word to try and trust Ricochet, and with that the connection was broken.

The next morning true to her word Jess tried hard to not think of Ricochet as dangerous, and they began to get along. Finn and Balor were both relieved and at these events as was Ricochet, and Bayley...well she was always happy. 

The month passed it was now March and the guys were home, they celebrated though late Jessica’s acception into AMU and were home for a whole month before they had to leave this time. During that time Balor returned to the underworld, and Bayley and Ricochet stayed behind to watch over and get close with Jessica. Her presents alone drew creatures and beings to her, and personality soothed most and her kind heart was something even demons were jealous of. Throughout all the bullshit life had dealt her she always showed strength,positivity and true kindness. Though Bayle and Ricochet weren’t sure why Balor wanted her protected, she was just a werewolf to them, they’d fulfill the mission given to them. April came and the guys once again had to leave, graduation was in June and though they were supposed to be gone until July they promised to try and be there for her graduation. She knew a promise was as good as she’d get and she understood they had to be gone. She once again hugged her brothers and went about normal life. Working out, going to school, dance, in ring work, homework, and every full moon shifting and going running. In fact most shifts now the demons, Balor, Bayley, and Ricochet all challenged her to races, which she almost always won.

Graduation was 3 days away, and Jessica was freaking out, no not because her brothers more than likely wouldn’t be there, hell if she thought they would be, she’d be in full blown panic mode! Stupid great grades, early college acceptions, extracurricular actives, stupid everything, if she knew she’d be Valedictorian she would have tried to suck at everything. Giving a speech in front of the whole class, their parents, and the teachers, she felt sick. She ran downstairs in hope of finding any of the demons that currently could be at the house only to find no one. She screamed and huffed. This was unfair! Any time she didn’t need them they were there now though now she needed someone and no one, what the flying fuck! Giving up she grabbed a soda from the fridge and heads back to her room locking the door, blasting her music, and sitting at her desk trying to figure out how to write this speech.

Hours pass and Finn finally gets back to the Hardys’ home, you’d the underworld could handle his absent, but no everything falls to shit without him there and then he has to play clean up crew. Grumbling as he enters the home he can hear the loud music coming from Jessica’s room, looking around he notes that Bayley nor Ricochet can be found and he’s hoping they are in her room or else there will be some other kind of hell to pay. Knowing she won’t hear him knocking  he just opens the door and looks around not seeing his demons and growls. When he notices Jessica’s defeated form. Putting finding the idiot demons aside for now he turns down her music and wraps an arm around her.

“What’s the matter little gem?”

Jessica’s head snaps up looking at Finn, her red, puffy eyes, and what seems like thousands for balled up pieces of paper all picking one up and he began to read it over. Seeing she was trying to write some kind of speech ...speech, shit she’s the Valedictorian, and has to give a speech to everyone in three days at graduation, had she not written it yet? “Mo ghem beag (my little gem) have you not written your graduation speech is that what all this is?” Nodding her head she looks up at Finn, her eyes showing fear, panic, uncertainty, and most of all hesitation. In a soft whisper Jessica answers.

“I never wanted to do this, I can’t do this. Please Balor, don’t make me?” She never referred to Finn as Balor. Yes she accepted the fact that Balor was apart of Finn but she never purposeful spoke his name, he could hear Balor in his mind telling him to let him out, let me face to face with his rare gem, and as much as Finn would normally just give in, he just could not this time. Holding Jessica tight Finn sighed. 

“Little gem this is easy, we can do it together. I’ll write what you want to say, then we can pratice together so you’ll be ready? Okay?” Jessica frowned .

“Fuck, dit is zo stom! Waarom moet ik dit doen? Ik had het niet eerlijk moeten doen! Ik mis Aleister! (Dutch: Fuck, this is so stupid! Why do I have to do this? I shouldn't have to its not fair! I miss Alesiter!)” She fidgeted with her necklace pendant, sliding it back and forth on the chain, as she had done many times when thinking about Aleister. First of all Finn had no idea Jessica could speak practically perfect Dutch, second he didn’t know who this Alesiter was that Jess missed so much, this wasn’t the first time in the year and half he’d be around that she’d mentioned him and how much she missed him. They way she spoke was heartbreaking and once again, tonight Balor would be paying a visit to her memories to figure out who he is and what happened. Jessica was like a sister to him and if Balor had his way she’d be in his life always as his sister. 

Bowing her head Jessica apologize.

“Het spijt me dat ik zo niet had moeten schreeuwen. Het is acht jaar geleden dat ik hem voor het laatst heb gezien. Het doet elke dag pijn. Ik was zo jong maar ik denk dat ik echt van hem hield. (Dutch: I'm sorry I shouldn't have yelled like that. Its been eight years since I've last seen him. It hurts everyday. I was so young but I think, I really did love him in away.) My mama mentioned that our ancestors had true soulmates, and sometimes I wonder if he was mine. We were so young though and when daddy said they could no longer visit, I was destroyed, heartbroken, we kept in touch for awhile, letters and phone calls, but then the phone calls stopped and went unanswered, and soon after the letters stopped as well. Maybe I’m wrong maybe we never meant anything to each other, but if that were true, why does it still hurt much to think of him all these years later?” With each word Jess grew quiet as tears sprang to her eyes.  Finn pulled Jessica close and placed a soft kiss to her temple. He wasn’t really sure how to handle this, after all he and Balor normally killed people, they did not comfort. That night Finn and Jessica talked about what she wanted to say in her graduation speech and finally were able to come up with one.

#jeff hardy #matt hardy #werewolves #witches #magical #supernatural au #wwe #wwe superstars #finn balor #the demon king #original characters #FMITN

[ollies-studyblr]

German III B: 2.1-2.7

Vocab:

gute Tischmanieren lernen

learn good table manners

...habe ich gute Tischmanieren gelernt

...lernte ich gute Tischmanieren

Spielzug wagräumen

put away

...habe ich meine Spielzeuge weggstellt

...stellte ich meine Spielzeuge weg

das Spielzeug

toy

lügen, o, o

to tell a lie

...habe ich nur ab und zu gelogen

...log ich nur ab und zu

Seil springen

jump rope

...bin ich oft Seil gesprungen

...sprang ich oft Seil

springen, a, u (ist)

jump

Verstecken spielen 

play hide and seek

...habe ich Verstecken gespielt.

. . . spielte ich Verstecken.

verstecken

hide

basteln

do crafts

. . . habe ich mit Freunden gebastelt.

. . . bastelte ich mit Freunden.

malen

paint

. . . habe ich zu Hause gemalt.

. . . malte ich zu Hause.

zeichnen

draw

. . . habe ich in der Schule gezeichnet.

. . . zeichnete ich in der Schule.

mit offenen Augen träumen

daydream

. . habe ich mit offenen Augen geträumt.

. . . träumte ich mit offenen Augen.

auf Bläume klettern (ist)

climb trees

. . . bin ich auf Bäume geklettert.

. . . kletterte ich auf Bäume.

Windeln tragen

wear diapers

Als ich jünger war, habe ich Windeln getragen

...trug ich Windeln

aufs Töpfchen gehen

go to the potty

ein Schläfchen Machen

take a nap

...habe ich oft ein Schäfchen gemacht

... machte ich oft ein Schläfchen

weinen

cry

...habe ich oft geweint

...weinte ich oft

-edas Stofftier, 

stuffed animal

einschlafen (ä), ie, a (ist)

fall asleep

...bin ich mit meinem Stofftier engeschlafen

...schlief ich mit meinem Stofftier ein

die Schultüte, -n, (Zuckertüte)

candy cone for first day of school

der Ranzen

backpack, school satchel

kinderfreundlich

child friendly

der Kinderwagen

baby carriage

nie

never

selten

seldom

einmal

 once

zweimal, usw.

twice, etc.

ab und zu

from time to time, occasionally

manchmal

sometimes 

oft

often

immer

 always

fast (nie)

 almost (never)

 vor (2 Jahren)

(two years) ago

 seit (dem Winter)

since (the winter)

damals

at that time

einfach

simple, simply

weltberühmt

world famous

echt

authentic, original

das Handtuch, -¨er

towel

die Zunge

tongue

die Flasche

bottle

When, When, and When: because why use one word when you could use three

Wann -used to ask questions (direct and indirect)

Wann fährt der Zug ab?

Wann beginnt der Film?

Wann kommt sie?

Ich möchte wissen, wann der Zug abfährt.

Er sagte mir, wann der Film beginnt.

Sie weiß noch nicht, wann sie kommt.

Als- used to talk about a single event in the past

Als ich ein kleiner Junge war. (When I was a little boy.)

Er stolperte, als er die Stufe hinaufstieg. (He stumbled, as he climbed the step / when he was climbing the step.)

Wenn- used to answer a wann question, describe a situation, or talk about repeated past events

Der Zug fährt ab, wenn das Licht grün ist.

Der Film beginnt, wenn alle da sind.

Sie kommt, wenn sie alles fertig hat.

Wenn die Sonne scheint, haben wir mehr Spaß.

Wenn die Pfanne heiß ist, kann man den Pfannkuchen backen.

Wenn es regnete, sahen wir die Würmer. (Whenever it rained, we saw the worms.)

Wenn ich Leber essen sollte, wurde ich krank. (Whenever I was supposed to eat liver, I got sick.)

Practice:

Do you know when the game starts? --> wann

When I eat shrimp, I get sick. --> wenn

Whenever I ate shrimp, I got sick. --> wenn

When he saw the deer, he slammed on his brakes. --> als

When will we get there? --> wann

What did you do when the phone rang? --> als

He wants to know when the class ends. --> wann

Imperfect Review:

he had to

er musste

we were allowed to

wir durften

I was supposed to

ich sollte

she could

sie konnte

they wanted to

sie wollten

were you allowed to

durftest du

she was able to

sie konnte

How Long?:

In English we use the perfect tense (have) and the word for-

         I have been learning German for 3 years

In German use the present tense and the preposition seit

         Ich lerne seit drei Jahren Deutsch

I´ve lived here for 10 years. Ich wohne seit 10 Jahren hier.

They´ve been waiting for 30 minutes! Sie warten seit 30 Minuten!

She´s played the piano for 8 years. Sie spielt seit 8 Jahren Klavier.

You´ve been sleeping for 5 hours. Du schläfst seit 5 Stunden.

We´ve been friends for 6 months. Wir sind seit 6 Monaten Freunde.

He´s studied English for 1 year. Er lernt seit einem Jahr Englisch.

How long have you (pl.) been waiting? Wie lange wartet ihr?

Making People Do Your Bidding:

for want and would like the pattern is: (someone) + wollen/möchten, dass + (someone else) + (rest of sentence with the conjugated verb at the end)

Ex. Ich will, dass du ruhig bist.       Ich möchte, dass du ruhig bist.

Practice:

She'd like us to go home.

Sie möchte, dass wir nach Hause gehen.

I want you to be good.

 Ich will, dass du brav bist.

They want her to speak louder.

 Sie wollen, dass sie lauter spricht.

He wants you to sit still.

 Er will, dass du still (ruhig) sitzt.

Do you want me to stay home?

 Willst du, dass ich zu Hause bleibe?

We want you (pl) to have fun.

Wir wollen, dass ihr Spaß habt.

They'd like him to play the piano. 

Sie möchten, dass er Klavier spielt.

Fun Facts:

Any child in Germany is sure to be familiar with the smiling face of this famous German mouse named Diddl. Diddl was first created by artist Thomas Goletz in 1990 and Diddl's face now appears worldwide on a variety of items, such as stationery, greeting cards, and lots of school supplies. Unlike other similar types of characters, Diddl does not star in his own TV program or even comic strip. He is recognized worldwide by his big feet and charming smile. Diddl is often accompanied by his friends Diddlina, Pimboli, and Mimihops.

(The "Schultüte" (also called a "Zuckertüte") is typical in the German-speaking countries. On their very first day of school, the children get a brightly colored cone filled with fruit, sweets, and small school supplies (colored pencils, etc.). It's supposed to help "sweeten" that first day of school for the first graders (or "ABC-learners"), and the children are very proud of them.)

Based upon its color and imaginative nature, some may think that this famous painting by German Expressionist Franz Marc (1880–1916) looks like a child painted it. Franz Marc, a member of the German Expressionist group, der blaue Reiter, chose many simple subjects, such as animals, for his paintings. His early paintings are often bright, colorful, and childlike.

His work changed after he was sent to war during WWI. His paintings became more dark and violent. Marc, along with other German Expressionists, used his work to speak out against the war that eventually took his life in 1916.

Erich Kästner, 1899-1974, wrote many famous children´s books. He was born in Dresden and the statue in this picture is in front of the Erich Kästner Museum in Dresden. His most famous work Emil und die Detektive exists in many languages and several film versions. Another very well known work Das doppelte Lottchen is the basis for the movie The Parent Trap.

#german #german 3

[satamorop1982-blog]

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[154xxx]

The Waste Land

by T. S. Eliot FOR EZRA POUND IL MIGLIOR FABBRO

              I. The Burial of the Dead

  April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch. And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s, My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.   What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.                       Frisch weht der Wind                       Der Heimat zu                       Mein Irisch Kind,                       Wo weilest du? “You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; “They called me the hyacinth girl.” —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Oed’ und leer das Meer.   Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante, Had a bad cold, nevertheless Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she, Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor, (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!) Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, The lady of situations. Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel, And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card, Which is blank, is something he carries on his back, Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find The Hanged Man. Fear death by water. I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone, Tell her I bring the horoscope myself: One must be so careful these days.   Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. Flowed up the hill and down King William Street, To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine. There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying: “Stetson! “You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! “That corpse you planted last year in your garden, “Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year? “Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed? “Oh keep the Dog far hence, that’s friend to men, “Or with his nails he’ll dig it up again! “You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!”               II. A Game of Chess The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne, Glowed on the marble, where the glass Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines From which a golden Cupidon peeped out (Another hid his eyes behind his wing) Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra Reflecting light upon the table as The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it, From satin cases poured in rich profusion; In vials of ivory and coloured glass Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes, Unguent, powdered, or liquid—troubled, confused And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air That freshened from the window, these ascended In fattening the prolonged candle-flames, Flung their smoke into the laquearia, Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling. Huge sea-wood fed with copper Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone, In which sad light a carvéd dolphin swam. Above the antique mantel was displayed As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale Filled all the desert with inviolable voice And still she cried, and still the world pursues, “Jug Jug” to dirty ears. And other withered stumps of time Were told upon the walls; staring forms Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed. Footsteps shuffled on the stair. Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair Spread out in fiery points Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.   “My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me. “Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.   “What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? “I never know what you are thinking. Think.”   I think we are in rats’ alley Where the dead men lost their bones.   “What is that noise?”                           The wind under the door. “What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?”                            Nothing again nothing.                                                         “Do “You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember “Nothing?”        I remember Those are pearls that were his eyes. “Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”                                                                                          But O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag— It’s so elegant So intelligent “What shall I do now? What shall I do?” “I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street “With my hair down, so. What shall we do tomorrow? “What shall we ever do?”                                                The hot water at ten. And if it rains, a closed car at four. And we shall play a game of chess, Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.   When Lil’s husband got demobbed, I said— I didn’t mince my words, I said to her myself, HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Now Albert’s coming back, make yourself a bit smart. He’ll want to know what you done with that money he gave you To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there. You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set, He said, I swear, I can’t bear to look at you. And no more can’t I, I said, and think of poor Albert, He’s been in the army four years, he wants a good time, And if you don’t give it him, there’s others will, I said. Oh is there, she said. Something o’ that, I said. Then I’ll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look. HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME If you don’t like it you can get on with it, I said. Others can pick and choose if you can’t. But if Albert makes off, it won’t be for lack of telling. You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique. (And her only thirty-one.) I can’t help it, she said, pulling a long face, It’s them pills I took, to bring it off, she said. (She’s had five already, and nearly died of young George.) The chemist said it would be all right, but I’ve never been the same. You are a proper fool, I said. Well, if Albert won’t leave you alone, there it is, I said, What you get married for if you don’t want children? HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon, And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot— HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight. Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.               III. The Fire Sermon   The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. A rat crept softly through the vegetation Dragging its slimy belly on the bank While I was fishing in the dull canal On a winter evening round behind the gashouse Musing upon the king my brother’s wreck And on the king my father’s death before him. White bodies naked on the low damp ground And bones cast in a little low dry garret, Rattled by the rat’s foot only, year to year. But at my back from time to time I hear The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring. O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter They wash their feet in soda water Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!  Twit twit twit Jug jug jug jug jug jug So rudely forc’d. Tereu Unreal City Under the brown fog of a winter noon Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants C.i.f. London: documents at sight, Asked me in demotic French To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel Followed by a weekend at the Metropole. At the violet hour, when the eyes and back Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits Like a taxi throbbing waiting, I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives, Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea, The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights Her stove, and lays out food in tins. Out of the window perilously spread Her drying combinations touched by the sun’s last rays, On the divan are piled (at night her bed) Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays. I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest— I too awaited the expected guest. He, the young man carbuncular, arrives, A small house agent’s clerk, with one bold stare, One of the low on whom assurance sits As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire. The time is now propitious, as he guesses, The meal is ended, she is bored and tired, Endeavours to engage her in caresses Which still are unreproved, if undesired. Flushed and decided, he assaults at once; Exploring hands encounter no defence; His vanity requires no response, And makes a welcome of indifference. (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall And walked among the lowest of the dead.) Bestows one final patronising kiss, And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . . She turns and looks a moment in the glass, Hardly aware of her departed lover; Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: “Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.” When lovely woman stoops to folly and Paces about her room again, alone, She smoothes her hair with automatic hand, And puts a record on the gramophone. “This music crept by me upon the waters” And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street. O City city, I can sometimes hear Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, The pleasant whining of a mandoline And a clatter and a chatter from within Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls Of Magnus Martyr hold Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.                The river sweats                Oil and tar                The barges drift                With the turning tide                Red sails                Wide                To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.                The barges wash                Drifting logs                Down Greenwich reach                Past the Isle of Dogs.                                  Weialala leia                                  Wallala leialala                Elizabeth and Leicester                Beating oars                The stern was formed                A gilded shell                Red and gold                The brisk swell                Rippled both shores             ��  Southwest wind                Carried down stream                The peal of bells                White towers                                 Weialala leia                                 Wallala leialala “Trams and dusty trees. Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.” “My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart Under my feet. After the event He wept. He promised a ‘new start.’ I made no comment. What should I resent?” “On Margate Sands. I can connect Nothing with nothing. The broken fingernails of dirty hands. My people humble people who expect Nothing.”                        la la To Carthage then I came Burning burning burning burning O Lord Thou pluckest me out O Lord Thou pluckest burning               IV. Death by Water Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss.                                    A current under sea Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth Entering the whirlpool.                                    Gentile or Jew O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.               V. What the Thunder Said   After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying Prison and palace and reverberation Of thunder of spring over distant mountains He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water If there were water we should stop and drink Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If there were only water amongst the rock Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit There is not even silence in the mountains But dry sterile thunder without rain There is not even solitude in the mountains But red sullen faces sneer and snarl From doors of mudcracked houses                                       If there were water    And no rock    If there were rock    And also water    And water    A spring    A pool among the rock    If there were the sound of water only    Not the cicada    And dry grass singing    But sound of water over a rock    Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees    Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop    But there is no water Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman —But who is that on the other side of you? What is that sound high in the air Murmur of maternal lamentation Who are those hooded hordes swarming Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth Ringed by the flat horizon only What is the city over the mountains Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air Falling towers Jerusalem Athens Alexandria Vienna London Unreal A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings And crawled head downward down a blackened wall And upside down in air were towers Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells. In this decayed hole among the mountains In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home. It has no windows, and the door swings, Dry bones can harm no one. Only a cock stood on the rooftree Co co rico co co rico In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust Bringing rain Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves Waited for rain, while the black clouds Gathered far distant, over Himavant. The jungle crouched, humped in silence. Then spoke the thunder DA Datta: what have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment’s surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed Which is not to be found in our obituaries Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms DA Dayadhvam: I have heard the key Turn in the door once and turn once only We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus DA Damyata: The boat responded Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar The sea was calm, your heart would have responded Gaily, when invited, beating obedient To controlling hands                                       I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order? London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie These fragments I have shored against my ruins Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe. Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.                   Shantih     shantih     shantih

#ts eliot

[princess-josie-riki]

Willy: "Daddy, can I ask you a question?"

Wally: "What is it, son?"

Willy: "Why is Werner's house haunted every Halloween?"

Wally: "What are you talking about? You've seen Werner's ghost rats everyday."

Willy: "I know, but every Halloween, Werner disappears and a strange ghost in a white sheet takes his place, turning the house into a haunted house and scaring sugar out of little trick-or-treaters like me. Where is Werner Werman?"

Wally: "You really wanna know? Okay, I'll tell you."

Meanwhile at Werner's house, some trick or treaters ring the doorbell and a pair of Rat Wraiths answer.

Trick-or-treaters: "Trick or treat!"

Rat Wraith #1: "Oh, my! Look at all the fun costumes!"

Rat Wraith #2: "Yeah!" (passing out candy) "Here you go. And here's one for you. And here's one for the little princess. And one for you."

Rat Wraith #1: "Oh, but wait! Don't go away!" (singsongy) "We have a little surprise for you!"

As the Rat Wraiths leave, Werner jumps behind the door in his sheet ghost costume scaring the children out of their candy with a ghostly scream. Werner laughs triumphally and takes the candy that was left behind, but notices that two kids, a Deadly Daisy dressed as a pirate and a Terrible Tulip dressed as a mummy, haven't left.

Werner: "Huh?"

Deadly Daisy: "Is that the best you've got?"

Werner: "Vat's zee matder vith you kids? Zat vas zee scariest zing you'fe effer zeen, right?"

The daisy and tulip look at each other and motion a "so-so" with their hands.

Werner: "Vell haffe you zeen zis!" (screams and pulls a hotdog chain from under his costume; pulls out a ketchup packet and pours ketchup on the hotdog chain) "Blut und Eingeweide! Reales, sehr echtes Blut und Eingeweide! *Blood and guts! Real, very real blood and guts!*"

Terrible Tulip: "Uh, we've been watching horror movies since we were seeds."

Deadly Daisy: "Yeah, we're not scared."

Werner: "Oh, you vill pe." (pulls out a flashlight and shines it on his face, menacingly) "You vill pe."

Back with Wally and Willy, Willy is flabbergasted.

Willy: "So Werner is the ghost who is scaring the trick-or-treaters?!" (an explosion came out of his head as gears came out) "You just blew my mind."

Wally: "Well, what did you expect? One of Werner's ghosts?"

Back at Werner's house, Werner's not here. Instead, it was two more Rat Wraiths.

Deadly Daisy and Terrible Tulip: "We want candy! We want candy!"

Rat Wraith #3: "Alright, you got us, kids. You guys win."

Rat Wraith #4: "I guess Werner isn't that scary, you know, you've-you've-"

Rat Wraiths #'s 3 and 4: "Oh! No!" (get dragged inside while screaming)

This made the daisy and tulip confused.

Terrible Tulip: "What just happened?"

Deadly Daisy: "Who cares? Let's just get our candy already!" (goes inside with Terrible Tulip) "Vermin? Vermin?"

The room is completely dark with sheets covering furniture and (presumably) rat corpses, cobwebs in the ceiling and dust everywhere. Then, a familiar voice is heard, laughing, startling the two flowers.

Werner (off-screen): "Velcome, foolisch mordals, to zee most sbirided zeazon of zem all! I am your host, your ghost host." (laughs) "Kindly sdep all zee vay in bleaze und make room for efferyone. Zere's nein turning pack now. Und conzider zis dismaying opzerffazion; zis champer has nein lights..." (laughs) "...vich offers you zis chilling challenge; to find ein vay out! Afder all, zis is Halloveen!"

Without warning, the light flashes repeatedly as Werner, in a different ghost costume appeared from his tank and laughs evilly, frightening the Deadly Daisy and Terrible Tulip. Werner drove his tank towards the flowers and smiled evilly.

Werner: "Boo!"

This made the Deadly Daisy and Terrible Tulip scream in terror as they ran out of the "haunted" house as Werner watches and laughs triumphally at his success.

Werner: (pulls out his cigar and smokes) "Sdill kot it!"

#Cuphead #cuphead: don't deal with the devil #chddwtd #werner werman #forest follies #wally warbles #wally's son #ghost rats #murine corps #Halloween #ghost #ghosts #sheet ghost #ghost costume #ghost costumes #halloween fanfiction #short story #random post #2spooky4me #trick or treat

[gfriendchris760]

Be2 Website

Be2. The website is fairly nicely created and do like.

https://gfriendchris760.tumblr.com/post/657852017489903616/eharmony-dating-app. Be2. has a consumer rating of 2.08 movie movie stars from 12 reviews showing that many clients are usually dissatisfied using their acquisitions. Be2. ranks 245th among internet dating sites.

Reviews

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The website is very well created and extremely do just like the real way they display pictures. pared to many other sites that are dating found it easy to use and simple to make use of. This site has been tried by me with great outcomes, got to understand my present girlfriend. We registered at be2 so when we got our partner remendations we learned that individuals are completely matched. And in addition to this we live very near to one another just exactly what made easier for people to meet up with. Thus far we have been together and can see what bring the long term.

Fake profiles: exact exact same images with various names. exact Same bio under various picture’s. They do say you could get a membership for 7,95 euros a month during six months. However the re payment is 191,76 for half a year.

Ondanks dat be2 dating op een hoger niveau is, valt het meer onder de categorie relatiebureau’s. Het is be2 gelukt om duizenden singles wereldwijd aan een gelukkige relatie te helpen door middel van een wetenschappelijk bewezen persoonlijkheidstest. U wordt op deze manier alleen voorgesteld aan singles die ook echt bij u passen en u leert. Be2 Online Dating in South African cities. If you are a single in Johannesburg, Cape Town, or any of the other major urban centers in the South Africa, online dating can help you connect with other singles near you and find a partner who is well suited to your personality. A serious online dating site like be2 will help you find others who want. Be2 website is not only sleek and professional looking but also has minimal distractions. Unlike most flashy dating sites that seem to draw more attention to the graphics, Be2 is clean and neat, which allows users to focus on other people’s profiles, not on finding their way around the website’s rich functional. Currently, be2 website operates in 38 countries worldwide. It is considered as one of the most popular dating websites that singles prefer to join. Is There an Age Restriction to Register on be2? Like other dating websites, there is an age limitation for the be2 users as well. To be able to register on the be2 website, you should be above 18. To give you the best user experience possible, we use various tracking technologies on our website, such as cookies. We want to know your preferences, therefore if you give your consent for us to use certain cookies you can click 'I agree'. You can withdraw your consent at any time.

Reviews (12)

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This is actually the offer I finalized as much as this site for.

“You are one action from your COMPLIMENTARY trial that is 10-day. To get your reward, you need to plete this offer within the next a day

To validate your identification and guarantee the security of y our solution, we are in need of you to enter your card details. In the event that you cancel whenever you want with this trial that is free card will never be charged. Begin your trial that is free and love. Appropriate. Now”

Thus I entered my details somewhat naively thinking I might never be charged until 10 times later. Some hours later on my banking institutions fraudulence prevention line called me saying that be2 had tried to charge me ВЈ89.97 – the cost of their three months membership! Very sneaky and fraud that is just blatant far as i will be worried.

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Fake pages: exact same photos with various names. exact Same bio under various photo’s. They state you may get an account for 7,95 euros a thirty days during half a year. Nevertheless the re payment is 191,76 for half a year.

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I made a decision to become listed on be2 half a 12 months ago because i did not desire to be alone any longer. So I started initially to search for partner that will be suitable for me personally. After enrollment I paid my premium account and continued with my search. I contacted some of my partner remendations and discovered away that individuals had a great deal in mon with several of those. During the moment I have always been nevertheless alone because I had beenn’t pleased with anybody whom replied my communications.

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I registered as of this web site one ago and I really liked personality test which I had to go through month. It absolutely was extremely detailed and contacts that are remended to be effectively matched to my taste. After few communications we decide to speak to Paul. I like fulfilling him and keep in touch with him. Possibly he might be my Mr. Right, the good news is it is too early to say this certainly.

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Your website is fairly well created and extremely do just like the way they display photos. pared to other sites that are dating found it easy to use and easy to utilize. We have tried this web site with great outcomes, surely got to know my present girlfriend. We registered at be2 so when we got our partner remendations we discovered that people are completely matched. And in addition we live very near to one another exactly exactly what possible for people to meet up with. Up to now we’re together and can see what bring the near future.

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What Is Be2

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Website Details:

Cost:

$29.95 for a 1 month membership to this dating service.

$33.30 for a 3 month membership to this dating service.

$16.60 per month for a 12 month membership.

Features:

Home: The home section enables you to see the last visitors to the site, who just registered on Be2 and your favorites.

My Matches: You can do a search based on age, height and you can also use the advanced search options. The search options enables you to search according to smoking habits, drinking habits, religion, ethnic group, language spoken and also you can choose regions in your country you want to search for.

My Profile: This is where you fill out your profile. Uploading a photo is probably a good idea if you're serious about meeting someone. Since looks are they going to be the first thing that catches someone's eye when viewing your profile. You can also edit your age, profession, education, city, country, height.

My Messages: This section is where you receive messages.

Overview

Be2.com is a mainstream dating site. This company owns dating services that target all the main languages on earth including English, French (Be2.fr), Italian (Be2.it), Norwegian (Be2.no), and German (Be2.de) to name only a few of them. Just like we do with our adult dating reviews we registered as a free member on this site to see exactly how it operates. You can read the full review and what we found out about this site below.

What We Think About Be2 After Signing Up

For every investigation we do there is a set agenda we follow. The first one is to create a personal profile on the dating site that we are reviewing. When we create our dating profile we make sure not to use any photographs and leave out as much information as possible. This way we can use this to our advantage. If we start receiving emails and instant messages immediately after registering on the site then we know it's probably going to be a scam. Why would anyone contact us when our profile is completely empty and we have no profile photographs? In this particular situation with Be2.com we received no emails, no instant messages, no webcam chats at all ZERO. Our profile was left empty and that's the result you would get if the dating site was legitimate. This is one indicator that leads us to believe that Be2.com is a real dating site.

Usually when a dating site is a scam you get so many emails that flood your inbox it's ridiculous. In this case we got no emails at all. The reason that dating scams use email messages is to lure you into upgrading so you can communicate back to the women sending you the emails. But in every situation we have encountered the women sending us those emails were fake. In this situation we received no emails at all. So we have to conclude they're not using automated chat bots to deceive us so we buy a paid monthly subscription.

Another method we use to identify scammy dating sites is a software program called Tin Eye. This helps us to find fake profile photos and the exact locations where those profiles have been stolen from on other sites (many times amateur porn sites). And we're happy to report in this situation that the profile pictures we dug through were NOT found on other sites.

Hosting Server Info:

Address Of Host: 291, Route d'Arlon, L-1150 Luxembourg

IP Address Of Server: 93.104.242.20

Name Servers: ns25.ns25.de, ns26.ns26.de, ns27.ns27.de, ns28.ns28.de

Contact Information :

Be2 Website Reviews

Phone:

Addresses: be2 S.à.r.l. of 291, Route d'Arlon, L-1150, Luxembourg

Email:(email protected)

Final Decision:

From what we have seen about this site everything looks to be legitimate. After doing over 200 reviews of dating scams it's very easy to spot a scam. This website does not use utilize automated bots, it does not send out fake emails, or phony instant messages. We received none of that whatsoever. In fact we received absolutely no emails from anyone on the site. For these reasons we have determined that Be2.com is a legit dating service.

Be2 Website Template

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File A Report

Contact the Better Business Bureau and file a complaint if you feel that you have been scammed or ripped off by this dating site.