#Arriving December 15

[imagineagreatadventure]

tried to fix my laptop today and the guy basically was like: its safe for now but unfortunately you gotta buy a new one

i just feel shitty about it not lasting a long time (roughly 2.5 years) and even said it to him and he pretty much said its not bc of me or the computer but because the computer companies arent making the right materials in order to push purchases and he cant get what he needs. he then recommended the lenovo think laptops bc he said they are literally the only ones that he never sees come in with any issues

[captainfantasticalright]

In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:

It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.

Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.

Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).

But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.

Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **

On collaborating together:

Here is a video of Sir Terry saying why he chose to collaborate with Neil, another video talking about the technical difficulties of writing a book when the two of them where miles apart ,and some pages from Interzone Magazine Issue 207 published December 2006:

An Interview with Sir Terry Pratchett and his works- and Neil Gaiman, where he shortly addresses the process of writing Good Omens.

Terry shortly mentions,

“Neil doesn't rule out another book with me and he was good to write with...yep, it could happen. With anyone else? I don't know, but probably not.?”

Neil says,

"Terry took that initial 5,000 words of mine and ran it through the computer (because I’d lost the files in a computer crash) and made it the first 10,000 words, and it was definitely Good Omens at that point. Neither one thing nor the other, but a third thing.”

"I think Terry could do a very good impersonation of me if he needed to, and I could do a very good impersonation of him; so we knew the area of the Venn diagram in which we were working. But mostly the book found its own voice very quickly. It helped that we were both scarred by the William books when we were kids...”

And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).

More about the writing process:

Terry took the first 5,000 words and typed them into his word processor, and by the time he had finished they were the first 10,000 words. Terry had borrowed all the things about me that he thought were amusing, like my tendency back then to wear sunglasses even when it wasn't sunny, and given them, along with a vintage Bentley, to Crawleigh, who had now become Crowley. The Satanic Nurses were Satanic Nuns.

The book was under way.

We wrote the first draft in about nine weeks. Nine weeks of gloriously long phone calls, in which we would read each other what we'd written, and try to make the other one laugh. We'd plot, delightedly, and then hurry off the phone, determined to get to the next good bit before the other one could. We'd rewrite each other, footnote each other's pages, sometimes even footnote each other's footnotes. We would throw characters in, hand them off when we got stuck. We finished the book and decided we would only tell people a little about the writing process - we would tell them that Agnes Nutter was Terry's, and the Four Horsemen (and the Other Four Motorcyclists) were mine.

From the introduction to William the Antichrist:

“In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.

It felt like a story with legs.

Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”

William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***

“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.

Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.

But the spirit of Just William was never far away.

The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.

If you want to read more details about William The Antichrist, here are some slides I made.

Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)

 Then I was reading The Jew of Malta by Kit Marlowe, and it has a bit where the three (cartoonishly evil) Jews compare notes on all the well-poisoning and suchlike they’d done that day, and as a Jew who never quite gets his act together, it occurred to me that if I were the third Jew I’d just be apologizing for having failed to poison a well… And suddenly I had the opening of a book. It would be called William the Antichrist. And it would begin with three Demons in a graveyard… (x).

“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.” -Neil Gaiman

"Neil and I had known each other since early 1985. Doing it was our idea, not a publisher's deal." "I think this is an honest account of the process of writing Good Omens. It was fairly easy to keep track of because of the way we sent discs to one another, and because I was Keeper of the Official Master Copy I can say that I wrote a bit over two thirds of Good Omens. However, we were on the phone to each other every day, at least once. If you have an idea during a brainstorming session with another guy, whose idea is it? One guy goes and writes 2,000 words after thirty minutes on the phone, what exactly is the process that's happening? I did most of the physical writing because: 1) I had to. Neil had to keep Sandman going -- I could take time off from the DW; 2) One person has to be overall editor, and do all the stitching and filling and slicing and, as I've said before, it was me by agreement -- if it had been a graphic novel, it would have been Neil taking the chair for exactly the same reasons it was me for a novel; 3) I'm a selfish bastard and tried to write ahead to get to the good bits before Neil. Initially, I did most of Adam and the Them and Neil did most of the Four Horsemen, and everything else kind of got done by whoever -- by the end, large sections were being done by a composite creature called Terryandneil, whoever was actually hitting the keys. By agreement, I am allowed to say that Agnes Nutter, her life and death, was completely and utterly mine. And Neil proudly claims responsibility for the maggots. Neil's had a major influence on the opening scenes, me on the ending. In the end, it was this book done by two guys, who shared the money equally and did it for fun and wouldn't do it again for a big clock." "Yes, the maggot reversal was by me, with a gun to Neil's head (although he understood the reasons, it's just that he likes maggots). There couldn't be blood on Adam's hands, even blood spilled by third parties. No-one should die because he was alive." -("Terry Pratchett : His World”)

(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).

Another wonderful insight with Rob Wilkins in "The Worlds of Terry Pratchett".

*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.

** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.

***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The latest questions are centered around Anat Schwartz, an Israeli who co-authored several of the paper’s most widely circulated reports, including the now well-known and scrutinized December 28 article headlined: “‘Screams Without Words’’ How Hamas Weaponized Sexual Violence on Oct. 7.” Independent researchers scrutinized the online record, and raised serious questions about Schwartz. First, she has apparently never been a reporter but is actually a filmmaker, who the Times suddenly hired in October. You would expect the paper to look for someone with actual journalistic experience, especially for a story as sensitive as this one, written during the fog of war. Surely the paper had enough of its own correspondents on staff who could have been assigned to it. Next, the researchers found that Schwartz had not hidden her strong feelings online. There are screenshots of her “liking” certain posts that repeated the “40 beheaded baby” hoax, and that endorsed another hysterical post that urged the Israeli army to “turn Gaza into a slaughterhouse,” and called Palestinians “human animals.” (Just this morning, more evidence emerged online; Schwartz apparently also served in Israeli Military Intelligence.) Finally, one of her co-authors on two of the reports was Adam Sella, who is her nephew.  Let’s pause here. What would happen if the Times suddenly hired a Palestinian filmmaker with no journalistic background, who had recently publicly “liked” posts that called for “pushing Israeli Jews into the sea,” to co-write several of its most sensitive and contested reports? 

[...]

There’s another related example of how the Times has botched the sexual violence story. One of the first Israeli organizations that arrived on the scene of the Hamas attack was Zaka, a volunteer group that recovers dead bodies. On January 15, Times reporter Sheena Frankel wrote a positive profile of the group; she included 3 or 4 sentences of criticism, only to quickly dismiss them. This site had already raised serious doubts about Zaka weeks earlier, pointing out that “the organization’s volunteers have systematically given false testimonies, and continue repeating them to journalists on behalf of the Israel government.” Then, on January 31, the Israeli daily Haaretz published a long investigation, that highlighted “cases of negligence, misinformation and a fundraising campaign that used the dead as props.” Haaretz cited one Zaka report that said a volunteer had seen a murdered pregnant woman, with the baby still attached by the umbilical cord — before concluding that the incident “simply didn’t happen.” At this stage, there are serious doubts about many aspects of Israel’s overall account about October 7. Only a genuinely independent and impartial investigation might some day get closer to the truth. But meanwhile, at the very least the New York Times must publicly recognize its errors, and assign new, unbiased reporters to try to clean up its mess. 

Continue reading

[sayruq]

In January of 2024, Dr. Bara Zuhaili entered Gaza on a two-week medical mission with a U.S.-based organization, Rahma Worldwide. Dr. Zuhaili dedicated most of his time to Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al-Balah, central Gaza. While this was not his first experience in a wartime or crisis setting — he had undertaken medical missions in Syria and was in southern Turkey during the earthquake — it proved to be his most horrific. As a vascular surgeon, he was tasked with assisting Gazan doctors in one of the ugliest tasks of this war: amputations. A generation of amputees has emerged, with over 10 children losing one or more limbs per day, on average, since the beginning of the war. Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah called it “the biggest cohort of pediatric amputees in history.” Even this statistic, reported by UNICEF in December of 2023, is now outdated. The true number of men, women, and child amputees remains unknown, with estimates ranging upwards of 10,000 people. It is a number that will continue to rise as new and unknown weapons destroy tissue and bone, crumbling medical infrastructures and scarce supplies force constant life-and-death decisions, while infections and chronic illnesses — largely ignored — silently kill or handicap thousands.

Is this the first time you've worked in a war zone or in a humanitarian crisis? Did any of them prepare you for this? It was not the first time. Unfortunately, I had experience in Syria, working in the underground hospitals in the besieged areas of Aleppo and Idlib. There, the healthcare facilities were also under constant attack by the Syrian regime. But Gaza was unlike anything I had seen before. To start, the supply chain was completely broken. Supplies were extremely limited in Deir Al Balah, where I was based for most of my stay. The hospital functioned at only 5-10% capacity compared to any similar hospital in the Middle East—I'm not even talking about an American hospital. Then, there were the number of patients. Just to give you an idea: Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al Balah is only equipped for 150 patients. Under extreme circumstances, they could maybe stretch to accommodate up to 200 patients. When I arrived, there were 950 patients, in addition to over 20,000 refugees sleeping in the corridors of the hospital and its complex. Every time we experienced a bombardment, we had anywhere from 20 to 60 patients rushing in simultaneously, in addition to the patients already being treated. It was completely overwhelming and overcrowded. The third issue had to do with the type of injuries. I've seen a lot of trauma before — traumatic injuries are not new to me — but the level of trauma I saw was something I've never witnessed in my entire life. When I was in the operating room, I would get a call from the ER saying someone was shot in the leg and they needed me as soon as possible. In my mind, someone shot in the leg with a bullet would have an entry size of about five to six millimeters and an exit wound size of about two centimeters long. That is what I was familiar with. What I saw in Gaza — which I had never seen before — was literally as if an explosion, an RPG, had exploded into the leg. The entry wound would be about five to 10 centimeters wide and the exit wound would be almost 30 centimeters wide. One bullet would destroy a diameter of 10-15 centimeters… all of the muscle, bone, arteries, and nerves were all gone, destroyed.I'm not a military expert, I don't know much about weapons. But I don't know what kind of bullet can cause that much destruction. With a bullet wound in the U.S., I could get away with doing a bypass to salvage the leg. In Gaza, there was nothing anyone could do to salvage the leg. The amount of tissue damage forced me to do amputations almost every single time. 

Can you describe what a single day would look like? As a rule, anytime a bombardment happened, we would wait between four to eight hours before we received any injured people. In Deir Al-Balah, we would see the missile hitting two to three kilometers away and we knew that there were many casualties, but it would take these people — who were only three kilometers away from us — four to eight hours to reach our location. The IOF (Israeli Occupation Forces) prevented any ambulances from entering the scene, and anyone attempting to help or approach would be shot. I had many cases where the ambulance driver would come to me holding two or three kids. They were dead, and he would swear to me they were alive four hours ago. We lost a lot of lives just waiting to reach us in the hospital. Our days typically began around seven in the morning, and even though the night was filled with attacks and bombardments, no casualties would reach us before the morning. By then, we would go to the ER and try to start the triage process: determining who needs to go to the OR first and who could afford to wait. We would then perform surgeries throughout the day, often not finishing until one or two in the morning. Sometimes, if I had time, I would do my rounds to check on the patients, and by late afternoon, we would have more bombardments and injuries coming in until midnight. Usually, by midnight, things slowed down… not because there was no bombardment, but because they couldn't reach us anymore.

[10yearsofdnp]

what is the december anniversary theory? i was really confused when they said december in the show

you've come to the right place, friend! the december anniversary theory basically says that dan and phil consider their official anniversary as a couple to be in december, specifically the first week of december since that was when dan spent an entire week at phil's house in 2009 and they were both extremely sappy that week (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) and for the rest of the month (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x).

my personal theory behind this is that throughout october and november 2009, they were still feeling each other out and experimenting with other people since they weren't sure if they'd even work out as a couple. also it's important to note that dan was in the process of breaking up with his high school girlfriend when he met phil. and even though it seems like he wasn't very attached to her by then, that's still a tricky situation to go through, especially as an 18 year old. so my guess is that dan and his ex broke up around the end of october, right after he met phil. and after that, dan took some time to experiment with the old school youtuber crowd while he and phil slowly started chatting more and building the connection dan talks about in basically i'm gay. i'm guessing that dan and phil officially became exclusive when dan bought the train tickets to spend a week with phil, since that's quite a commitment. either then or when he arrived in manchester for the week or somewhere between then.

and THEN phil blew us all out of the water yesterday at the first terrible influence show when he said "it'll be 15 years of dan and phil in december." verrrrry interesting that he said december instead of october and didn't backtrack! also some very astute phannies have pointed out that they have that entire week off of touring this year, sooooo...!

btw, if you scroll through the y:2009 tag on this blog, you'll see all their posts from 2009, starting with the end of december! so if you want the full picture of their relationship timeline, i'd highly recommend starting there! have fuuuun! ☺️❤️

i personally love this theory since i feel like it explains so much about their early relationship, plus there was a definite shift in their interactions around the end of november/beginning of december 2009. it gives me hope that things could work out for us and our crushes too, you know?

[wonders-of-the-cosmos]

Mariner program

The Mariner program was conducted by the American space agency NASA to explore other planets. Between 1962 and late 1973, NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) designed and built 10 robotic interplanetary probes named Mariner to explore the inner Solar System - visiting the planets Venus, Mars and Mercury for the first time, and returning to Venus and Mars for additional close observations.

The program included a number of interplanetary firsts, including the first planetary flyby, the planetary orbiter, and the first gravity assist maneuver. Of the 10 vehicles in the Mariner series, seven were successful, forming the starting point for many subsequent NASA/JPL space probe programs. 

The name of the Mariner program was decided in "May 1960-at the suggestion of Edgar M. Cortright" to have the "planetary mission probes ... patterned after nautical terms, to convey 'the impression of travel to great distances and remote lands.'" That "decision was the basis for naming Mariner, Ranger, Surveyor, and Viking probes."

Each spacecraft was to carry solar panels that would be pointed toward the Sun and a dish antenna that would be pointed at Earth. Each would also carry a host of scientific instruments. Some of the instruments, such as cameras, would need to be pointed at the target body it was studying. Other instruments were non-directional and studied phenomena such as magnetic fields and charged particles. JPL engineers proposed to make the Mariners "three-axis-stabilized," meaning that unlike other space probes they would not spin.

Mariner 1 and Mariner 2

Mariner 1 and Mariner 2 were two deep-space probes making up NASA's Mariner-R project. The primary goal of the project was to develop and launch two spacecraft sequentially to the near vicinity of Venus, receive communications from the spacecraft and to perform radiometric temperature measurements of the planet. A secondary objective was to make interplanetary magnetic field and/or particle measurements on the way to, and in the vicinity of, Venus.

Animation of Mariner 2's trajectory from August 27, 1962, to December 31, 1962. Mariner 2 · Venus · Earth.

Mariners 3 and 4

Sisterships Mariner 3 and Mariner 4 were Mars flyby missions.

Mariner 3 was launched on November 5, 1964, but the shroud encasing the spacecraft atop its rocket failed to open properly and Mariner 3 did not get to Mars.

Mariner 4, launched on November 28, 1964, was the first successful flyby of the planet Mars and gave the first glimpse of Mars at close range

This archival image is an enhanced contrast version of the first Mars photograph released on July 15, 1965. This is man's first close-up photograph of another planet -- a photographic representation of digital data radioed from Mars by the Mariner 4 spacecraft. Data was either sent to Earth immediately for acquisition or stored on an onboard tape recorder for later transmission.

The pictures, played back from a small tape recorder over a long period, showed lunar-type impact craters (just beginning to be photographed at close range from the Moon), some of them touched with frost in the chill Martian evening. 

Mariner 5

The Mariner 5 spacecraft was launched to Venus on June 14, 1967, and arrived in the vicinity of the planet in October 1967. It carried a complement of experiments to probe Venus' atmosphere with radio waves, scan its brightness in ultraviolet light, and sample the solar particles and magnetic field fluctuations above the planet.

Mariners 6 and 7

Mariners 6 and 7 were identical teammates in a two-spacecraft mission to Mars. Mariner 6 was launched on February 24, 1969, followed by Mariner 7 on March 21, 1969. They flew over the equator and southern hemisphere of the planet Mars.

Mariners 8 and 9

Mariner 8 and Mariner 9 were identical sister craft designed to map the Martian surface simultaneously, but Mariner 8 was lost in a launch vehicle failure. Mariner 9 was launched in May 1971 and became the first artificial satellite of Mars. 

Mariner 10

The Mariner 10 spacecraft launched on November 3, 1973, and was the first to use a gravity assist trajectory, accelerating as it entered the gravitational influence of Venus, then being flung by the planet's gravity onto a slightly different course to reach Mercury. It was also the first spacecraft to encounter two planets at close range, and for 33 years the only spacecraft to photograph Mercury in closeup.

Venus in real colors, processed from clear and blue filtered Mariner 10 images

Mariner 10's photograph of Venus in ultraviolet light (photo color-enhanced to simulate Venus's natural color as the human eye would see it)

This mosaic shows the planet Mercury as seen by Mariner 10 as it sped away from the planet on March 29, 1974.

source x, x | images x

[runawaysiren940]

The University of Oxford is currently showing off a collection of African items, among which is “a mask made by Nigeria's Igbo people and which was originally used in male-only rituals”, which women are not allowed to see (Radnedge). This mask is part of a collection which the museum describes as being “closely tied to British Imperial expansion”, and falls under “a policy to ensure women do not view the mask in relation to taboos about secret ceremonies, human remains, nudity as well as gender roles” (Radnedge). In other words, the cultural values of the group which the artifact was taken from are being respected, instead of the commonly accepted ones of the culture which the museum is a part of. Why are members of a modern, and increasingly egalitarian society held to the traditions of one steeped in misogyny and woman hating? Why is misogyny given deference and respect when it comes from another culture?

As “Art critic and author Ruth Millington” notes, “To deny all women, of all cultures, sight of something because that is a taboo in one particular culture seems an extreme stance, particularly given that this country is a modern, liberal and enlightened society. Surely women should be given the right to decide, after reading about any cultural sensitivities, if they wish to look upon the artefact or not. When it comes to art, we should all have equal rights, regardless of sex, to view what we would like to.” (Radnedge) Not to mention, the cultural sensitivities of women never seem to be held to the same high esteem. When muslim women mention that they cannot take off their hijab in front of trans-identified males, they’re called transphobic for it, and told that they are harming trans-identified males with their bigotry by doing so. Not to mention, the sudden confirmation that women do exist, and are a separate entity from men is hypocritical in a society where self-id exists, and anyone can identify as anything they wish, regardless of reality.

We see a similar pattern of single sex spaces being respected when it is a men’s club- such as in 2018, when a group of female protesters entered the men’s pool after identifying as male. This occurred in response to Hampstead’s inclusion of trans-identified males in the women’s pond the previous December. However, despite the women protesters “telling staff at the pond that they 'identified as male' and said they had the right to swim there… police arrived 15 minutes later and they were forced to leave” (Daily Mail).

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5780623/Female-protesters-break-men-lido-leap-pool.html. Accessed 21 June 2024.

Any other examples come to mind?

[thinking-emoji]

Photo-spoiler free PEOPLE article

wonderful article by the amazing Raven Brunner, but it unfortunately includes extremely cute photos of dnp on stage and in their stage outfits. So here's the spoiler free version for all you hardcore spoiler-fighters

Dan Howell and Phil Lester Say Seeing Fans on Tour Now That They're 'Older and Bit Gayer' Has Felt 'Radical and Freeing' (Exclusive)

Dan Howell and Phil Lester are currently one month into the North American leg of their tour Terrible Influence and PEOPLE has an exclusive first look

By Raven Brunner | Published on November 1, 2024 11:00AM EDT

Dan Howell and Phil Lester are cruising through the United States! 

The two British YouTubers are currently one month into the North American leg of their third joint tour Terrible Influence – and PEOPLE has an exclusive first look.

The duo will continue with stops in Chicago, Toronto, New York City, Nashville and more, before bringing their show to Australia in December. 

"Being able to see our audience in real life, now that we're all older ... and we're a bit gayer, feels so radical and freeing," Dan and Phil said in a statement shared with PEOPLE. "We've had so many people joke [that] this tour has felt 'healing' and to see people from all different walks of life feel like they are welcome at our tour makes us so happy."

They added, "Getting to perform a new show that contains so many spicy personal and professional revelations is a thrill. It's truly a DGAF new era and to see people hollering at some of the controversial moments and shedding a tear at the end makes it feel so good every night."

When it comes to traveling the states, the two continued, "The U.S.A. is so huge, we can't believe driving across the middle takes so long. From Texas and the midwest to the upcoming east coast leg - our propaganda is spreading across the nation and we're so happy to be here saving democracy, one brainwashed viewer at a time."

The show sees Dan and Phil on tour together for the first time since their 2018 hiatus from their shared YouTube channel DanandPhilGAMES, during which they both came out as gay and grew their personal brands. During this time, Dan wrote the #1 New York Times bestselling mental health book You Will Get Through This Night and embarked on a solo comedy tour We’re All Doomed, while Phil continued to grow his own YouTube channel AmazingPhil. 

In an exclusive interview with PEOPLE ahead of their arrival in the U.S., the two – who have been on YouTube together for over 15 years – spoke about the reactions to their first few shows as they began their tour in September with a stop in Belgium.

"We have had so many funny memes and reactions to it," Phil, 37, told us at the time. "Seeing the buzz on social media the first night we did the show, because no one knew anything about it or what it was going to be, was just a reminder of how hilarious our audience is.”

Dan, 33, added that the show is helping people come to terms with their past and also their future. 

"It has also been amazing seeing all the different kinds of people that come to the show because we have had people that are like, 'I’m old now and identify as a real person' – not someone that spends all their time on YouTube," he said. "All these people have grown up and gone on so many different journeys in the direction of their lives, and yet it feels like they all got to come together and feel like they were welcomed."

Dan continued, "They all got to laugh and feel like they could have some weight taken off their shoulders for who we were, for who they used to be [and] for how scared they should feel about the future. The fact that everyone’s left feeling invigorated about themselves for what the next chapters of their lives could be, I think we are really proud of that."

The new territory of the show also poses new "danger," as Dan said.

Phil has experienced two accidents while working on the show, the first of which occurred during a rehearsal and resulted in a broken rib. Then he fell off the stage during a tour stop in Sweden, after which he wrote on social media, "people think ‘phil is going to fall off the stage’ is an old joke until i actually fall off the stage."

"We joke about this,” Dan explained. “People are like, 'Dan and Phil need to stop exaggerating.' But you don’t even know the extent to which we don’t tell people half the stuff Phil has done."

"I need to be wrapped in bubble wrap at all times," Phil agreed, before adding, "To be fair, it is very dark on the stage. I thought I was leaning over the edge. There was no edge. I did a very stylish barrel roll off the front of the stage and thankfully it wasn’t very high."

He continued, "But the rib was another thing. I won't say much because it'd be a spoiler, but we were rehearsing a very active part of the show and I bent myself in a way I should not have bent myself."

Beyond the challenging physical aspects of the show, Dan noted that the specific scene also includes an emotional element where they are "jokingly being quite confrontational about a lot of things that would have, in the past, been considered sensitive topics – whether it is about us and our audience, or just like people on social media and what this culture is."

As for what the duo enjoys most about touring the United States, Dan quickly noted that "Phil is looking forward to sugar."

"Yeah, I have a sugar issue,” Phil confirmed. "Everything in the U.S. has more sugar in it. So that’s always quite exciting. The pancake stack I am going to get as soon as I arrive in America is going to be legendary."

Dan added, “You’ll find that’s essential. If someone wants a free selfie with Phil, just turn up to the local IHOP at 2 a.m. and see Phil just going, 'More maple syrup.'"

The two shared a story from their 2018 tour Interactive Introverts where their bus broke down "in the middle of Texas" and the only place nearby was a Denny’s. "So we ended up going there having a Breakfast Slam at like 3 a.m. I was like, 'I think I get American culture,' " Dan explained.

"This is it. The Slam,' " Phil added.

Meanwhile, Dan is most looking forward to "bus life."

"A lot of people go, ‘Touring! Don’t you just hate it? Imagine being on a bus cramped up with all those people?' And I’m like, 'I love it.' Get me out of the house," Dan shared. "We are not meant to just be spending all day in our head, being anxious about stuff. We are meant to go outside. And I found that the only way I can do that is to book a tour and commit to dragging myself outside of the house.'

Following their return to YouTube and their joint brand, Dan said that they are living "in this radical present where we are just seeing how things go." However, they are still aware of the demand for them to take on more big projects, particularly in relation to their former jobs as presenters on BBC Radio 1 where they hosted a weekly radio show and interviewed A-list celebrities like Taylor Swift and Fall Out Boy at special events.

"Yeah, that was really fun," Phil recalled. "I think there was a lot of anxiety for me doing the radio because you have to press a lot of buttons, you are live – so I can say anything. Anyone knows that me, unfiltered and live, is a dangerous mix, especially when you are the BBC."

Dan added, "People keep asking us. They are like 'Dan and Phil, we need you to get back doing these presenting jobs. You want to come back? Do the radio, do this award show.' We are like, 'Oh, my! Maybe we’ll do it for the people.' "

He continued to note that people are also "begging" him to return to his solo YouTube channel, but for now, they are focused on the tour. 

"This Dan and Phil comeback was so lowkey," Dan said. "Literally we had no plan for it. Phil was like, 'Just sit down, play The Sims, play a little card game,' and it is the most light, casual content ever. People were so enthusiastic about it and now they are like, 'What is the future?' People are begging us to do radio, they want us to do a podcast, they want us to do all this other stuff that their favorite YouTubers are doing. So now, we are like, 'Okay, we hear you, Dan and Phil 2.0 when we get back from this tour.' Honestly, it sounds like a threat."

"Yeah," Phil agreed. "What is it going to be? We are not sure but we are excited about it."

Tickets for Terrible Influence are now on sale.

[mihotose]

pieced together a short timeline now that ive replayed the game. followup to this

november 7 '50 - date of issue of harry's new badge

november '50 - klaasje arrives in martinaise

december '50 - the strike begins

january 29 '51 - harry is assigned the two drunks case

february 4 '51 - soona arrives at the church

february 12 '51, overnight - the next world mural appears

mid february '51 - joyce arrives in martinaise

krenel arrive in martinaise

around february 28 '51 - lely's birthday

sunday march 4 '51, 23:30-00:15 - lely is killed

thursday march 8 '51, past midnight - klaasje calls the rcm to report the body

friday march 9 '51 - harry arrives in martinaise

afternoon - ruby flees martinaise to the fishing village to hide from harry

night - harry tells people about the investigation and shows everyone his gun

saturday march 10 '51, night - harry crashes his coupris and parties all night with the union of moribund alcoholics

sunday march 11 '51, morning - harry leaves the alcoholics

night - harry listens to disco before trashing his room

monday march 12 '51, around 08:00 - ruby flees to the feld building

08:30 - harry wakes up without his memory [DAY 1]

[chenlesfavorite]

New Year’s Eve, the occurrence that only happens once a year, at the end of December. It’s the time when everyone is grateful for each other, making New Year’s resolutions, and just having a great time in general. After all, New Year’s Eve is a few days after Christmas as well, so, that’s why everyone is even happier. Who wouldn’t be happy getting gifts and being able to spend time with your loved ones?

You and the others were currently making your way to the Square where the New Year’s countdown will be happening. Rumor has it, that there are gifts to buy there! Even snacks and drinks will be served to people who come... and of course, can’t forget the most important thing, fireworks!

Fireworks are such a beautiful thing, seeing them go up and illuminating the night sky is such a lovely sight, one that you can’t help but smile at, and just adore with all of your heart. Even if the sound of them bursting can be a little scary at times.

After a 15-minute walk, you guys arrive at the Square, and wow, the crowd of people there made you surprised for sure. “I see the gift displays!” Yuqi points at the stand and then looks at everyone. “I’m heading over there first!” She spends no time waiting for a reply and starts dashing towards the stand, Shuhua and Bae following after her.

“Jeez, those three...” Taeyong sighs but laughs afterward. Making the rest laugh slightly too. “Well, at least we arrived not too late. There’s 20 minutes until it reaches New Year.” Ten says, crossing his arms and his body showing a shiver. “I’m gonna find a place to get warmed up, I’m freezing!” Ten walks away with Yangyang joining alongside him.

“And there were 5...” Kevin speaks up, making some strange movements with his hands. “Where are the free drinks that were promised? I’m thirsty as hell.” Johnny says, looking around but not noticing anything. He was expecting to see a sign that said ‘free drinks!’ or... at least, something like that.

“Yo, I mean, It’s probably somewhere around here, just gotta look around real good,” Mark replies, and Taeyong nods to what he said. “Let’s look around together,” Taeyong says and everyone agrees to stick together for the time being.

-

After a long time of looking around, eating snacks, drinking champagne, wine, other alcoholic substances, fizzy drinks, anything you can think of really. Everything was being served, for free as well! How crazy.

There were 2 minutes left on the timer; luckily, everyone was together right now, just talking and sharing some memories that had been created in the past. “No, but- remember when that scam caller called Yangyang and said that he has his daughter? I peed myself hearing him share that!” Ten brought up, almost tearing up because apparently, he found that absolutely hilarious.

“I was so confused like... what daughter are you talking about?” Yangyang added on, shrugging his shoulders.

The air was filled with joy and happiness. The timer reached 1 minute now. As you are about to say something about it— Mark takes your hand and pulls you away from the others. “Hey— where are you going with her!?” Yuqi gets ready to run after you two but Ten holds her back. “Let the lovebirds go.” He says to her, winking as he knew what was gonna happen.

Mark leads you away from everybody, like... quite literally, everybody. You two were alone and a bit away from the center, though, you could still hear the muffled chatter of people. The snow that was falling made this much more romantic than it was meant to be.

“Mark... why’d you drag me here?” You inquire, taking your hands back as Mark lets them go. You fiddle with your fingers as you don’t know what to expect right now, just what is he planning?

He takes a deep breath before taking both of your hands. You gulp- biting the bottom of your lip as you await his words and actions.

“Y/N, it’s... not easy to say this but, gosh, this is gonna be so cringe.” Mark looks away for a moment, a red color creeping up to his ears. You tilt your head to the side, a grin on your lips. “Just say it!” You speak up, letting out a little laugh afterward.

“Okay, here goes.” He takes a deep breath once again, now creating direct eye contact with you, which makes your heart skip a beat for a second. “Y/N. Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I... I guess you could say I fell in love at first sight. You were just so pretty, and the way you spoke? It made my stomach flutter, I still don’t understand why. Like dude, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve never met a more perfect girl than you... even if you are bad at chemistry, but that doesn’t matter to me.” He laughs before continuing.

“Y/N, did you know that in Greek mythology, humans were created with 4 arms, 4 legs, and 2 faces? But Zeus feared their power so he split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves and, Y/N,” He pauses once again, a serious but gentle expression on his face.

The timer hit 20 seconds.

“You are my other half. My soulmate. The one I wish to desire to spend my life with, hell, even an eternity with.” Mark says, sighing.

“Mark...” You whisper his name, looking at him with an expression that can not be described. But if it could be? Love. It was with love. Perhaps even adoration.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, tightly holding onto them as if you were gonna be taken away from him. The red coloring spread from his ears onto his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but find it adorable. He has done so many bold moves on you, but he gets nervous at this moment?

The timer hit 10 seconds.

Then 5.

“What I’m trying to say is that I love—”

The timer had 1 more second left, and you took that chance to kiss him, cutting his words off. The moment you placed your lips onto his, the fireworks went off into the air, bursting as you two shared a very beautiful intimate moment with each other.

Mark was surprised as he didn’t expect you to be the one to straight up kiss him without any sort of hesitation at all but he did not reject it all, in fact, he was very accepting of your lips. He let go of your hands, but your hands by themselves made their way up to his shoulders and his hands moved down your torso and to your waist. He grips your waist and pulls you closer to him.

You two pull away from each other, both of your faces red but the one that was a complete tomato was Mark. He was left speechless by you and by the kiss.

“I love you too, Mark. I do.” You say, your lips curling up into a big smile. Mark pulls you into a hug, a tight one at that. Burying his face into the crook of your neck. Both of you soon broke out in laughter, a very happy laughter at that.

“So... does this mean we’re dating, yo?” Mark breaks the hug, asking you as if the answer is not obvious. You lightly punch his shoulder. “What do you think, Mark?” You say, giggling.

“Does that mean I can call you um... my girl? Or... if you prefer something else like, beautiful or-” You cut him off again by a quick kiss on the lips.

“Call me whatever you want.” You reply, taking his hand into yours. Intertwining your fingers with his.

“My girl it is then.” He says.

Silence grows in the air between the two of you but it was a comfortable silence. You two simply watched the fireworks still go off. It was such a beautiful moment, one that you would never forget and you would treasure forever.

You were more than proud to call him your lover, your significant other and so was he.

══════════════════

GOT MY ION YOU : chapter 28 — happy new year’s!

back — masterlist — next

✮⋆˙ taglist : @nanaxwi @yyangj3lly @morkiee @alethea-moon @neocrashed @junviadinho @hyuck-me @injunified @candied-czennie @dudekiss3r @neozon3nha @nosungluv @starfilledgaze @luvtyunn @mystverse @multifandomania @bitchzitschimi @kittydollzz @soheendo @minkyuncutie

══════════════════

[sheliaeddy]

(December 7, 2023) Bryansk School Shooting - Alina Afanaskina

-- I already posted this a little ago here. If you want to see the footage and the crime scene photos uncensored then they're there.

The Shooter's Profile

Alina Afanaskina was a 14 year old student from 8-”A” class at Bryansk's 5th Gymnasium (formerly School #70). Alina was a type of a person who didn't communicate closely with anyone. Everyone who asked about her was basically repeating the same things: calm, loner, unremarkable, not active on social networks. Even the class teacher preferred talking to Alina's twin-sister, Daria, because Alina always was very silent and never came up with any questions/initiative. Teachers periodically were bringing up the subject of Alina's socialization to her mother and sister, although at the same time they didn't have any complaints about her grades or general behavior.

Alina had two siblings, including twin-sister Daria (Dasha). Her mom is a courtroom cleaner and dad worked in a private security company. Neighbors were perceiving them as good people, a nice and normal family, with a friendly father, though more reserved mother and daughters (who, allegedly, weren't hanging out with other kids at the yard). They didn't suspect any sort of violence in that household, as well as e.g. alcohol abuse; father doesn't drink. The third sibling is known to be a 28-year-old sister who lives in Moscow with her husband for a long time.

The Shooting

On December 7, 2023, Alina refused to eat breakfast. The last two words that she said to her mother were "Don't howl,” (Не вой), which the woman didn't understand. Next, Alina and her sister left the house. They both decided to skip the first lesson - geography and go to a second one - biology. Daria arrived there on time, like everyone else. Around 10 minutes later, when students started repeating their homework with teacher, Alina entered the classroom - with her father's shotgun and dressed all in black (shirt, trousers, combat boots with a knife in one of them, tactical glove), differently from her usual white clothes. Alina opened fire, killing one student, injuring five others, and then turning the gun on herself.

Injuries and Deaths

Alina Afanaskina - shot herself and died.

Maria "Masha" Nesmachnaya - the victim who was killed.

(Masha was going to turn 15 on the 27 December. She is survived by her mother, stepfather and two brothers (one older and one younger who is also attending the same gymnasium), grew up in a religious family. Was mainly interested in cooking, sewing, knitting; also played the guitar and attended music school. According to her mom, she dreamed about becoming a doctor and saving people's lives in the future. Masha's mom described her as a type of person who preferred to avoid conflicts and was on good terms with everyone. In fact, she talked about Alina in a positive manner - saying that she's quiet, but nice and kind.)

Timofey B - shot in the left forearm, thigh, knee and chest

Petr E. - in the lung; his spleen, back, lower back and shoulder were damaged as well.

Timur D. - shot in the shoulder by six bullets: four of them wounded him and flew out, passed through his body, the other two got stuck in it.

Evelina K. - was injured on the chest.

Vitalina D. - wasn't shot, but broke her leg, while trying to escape.

Ofelya Mkrtchyan - a teacher who covered students with her own body when Afanaskina opened fire on them (and also needed medical treatment after it, though not seriously; no injuries among adults were officially reported) - recalled that Alina said absolutely nothing during the whole thing. Despite teacher's attempts to attract her attention, calling her name, she didn't even look at the woman, instead being focused on shooting classmates. Ofelya didn't notice any warning signs before tragic events. In her eyes Alina was a „capable, tactful and diligent” student, „calm, polite and responsible” on daily basis.

The Aftermath

The firearm Alina used during the massacre belongs to her father, Dmitry Afanasyev/Afanaskin, who is currently under police custody of investigation on how she procured the firearm. Dmitry denied all accusations of domestic abuse, claiming that he loves his children, worked as much as he could to provide them everything they needed and "was very happy about becoming a father again after so many years”. He didn't favor any of the twins; they were close with each other, shared the room, studied well.

As a former athlete, Dmitry was often encouraging his children to physical activities and healthy lifestyle since they were little - Alina and Daria were even attending dance school (in a group centered around hip-hop) for at least two years.

However, around a year prior to the shooting, Dmitry started spending less time at home due to work. People from the neighborhood were seeing sisters mostly alongside their mother.

Alina didn't leave any journal, suicide note or explanation behind her actions. All Telegram channels, claiming to be created by her, are fake.

Investigators suspected that Dasha might know about her sister's plans, but during interrogation she denied everything. When her parents appeared at the school right after the attack, girl started crying and kissing her mother's hands in panic. She also couldn't sleep for three days because of the trauma caused by events.

The media started pointing at bullying as the most possible motive. In the general opinion of teachers, students, parents - no such thing happened, Alina wasn't harassed; isolating herself from school peers was her own choice. She didn't have any enemies and treated everyone equally, just didn't want to talk with them due to her introverted attitude. "There was no bullying. We don't know why she did it. We can't say anything else” - stated girl's classmate. Although, another student interviewed right on the day of events, said the exact opposite: "Yes, they bullied her, but not always! She was normal until they told her: you can't do anything to us, you're helpless.”

A note found in Alina's backpack with a text about how she „needs to meet with a friend”, that attracted a bit of attention, was most likely some kind of a grammar assignment, as the matching diagrams about parsing sentences were written nearby.

The motive is unknown so you can come up with your own conclusion as to why.

All of the injured victims have already left hospitals. Gymnasium is open again, but class 8A was transferred to distance learning. Masha was buried in Bryansk's central cemetery, while Alina - in the small village between Bryansk and Seltso.

[bluelocksource]

Michael Kaiser’s trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Metallic Blue.

☆ Weapon : Kaiser Impact.

☆ Birthday: 25th December.

☆ Current age: 19 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Capricorn.

☆ Nickname: "Blue Rose Emperor"

☆ Birthplace: Berlin, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Himself.

☆ Current height: 186 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

�� Blood type: A.

☆ Visual acuity: 0.9 in both eyes.

☆ Grip strength: 80 kg.

☆ Motto: "Become the symbol of impossibility."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 15.

☆ Interest: Psychology, philosophy, and human behavior principles.

☆ Favorite food: Rusk made from the crust of bread. "When I was a kid, I used to get those from a local sandwich shop before they were thrown away. They’re really good, whether sweet or garlic-flavored." 

☆ Dislike/hated food: Milk. "It reminds me of unpleasant things. Plus, I just hate the smell. It’s gross."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "I don’t really eat rice. Let me know what’s good. "

☆ Favorite animal: Stray dogs.

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "I feel at home with the loneliness."

☆ Favorite movie: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

☆ Favorite music: "Desperado" by Eagles.

☆ Frequently used app: Healthcare app. "Every morning I would measure my pulse to feel alive through numbers."

☆ Favorite football player: None.

☆ Favorite subject: "I haven't really attended school, so I don't know."

☆ Weak subject: "I don’t know because I haven’t been to school."

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "What’s that about? Chocolate? Mushroom will do."

☆ Ideal type: "Someone who is beautiful, smart and affectionate."

☆ Fixation: Despair. "I want to experience the deep immersion of that person."

☆ What would make him happy: Being targeted. "The thought of eliminating them gives me a thrill."

☆ What would make him upset: Presents. "I don’t know how to react, and I really don’t want them. Just go away." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: “The ability to look down on all 'humans'."

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: “My crazy bed hair. I wake up really poorly.”

☆ What made him cry recently: “When I choked myself, tears came out. I laughed when I saw my face in the mirror.”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 8 hours (7 hours + 1 hour)

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 800. "Apparently, they were delivered to the team clubhouse."

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Left chest.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I don't really care. I guess I'll buy a rose garden."

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "Such things never arrived. That kind of thing doesn’t exist."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: Freedom.

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Take a leisure shower, read, think about the people I want to kill and myself, then take a dump and go to sleep."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "Regret. I think there were other ways to live. If tomorrow were the last day, I’d feel that way."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Nietzsche, Freud, Napoleon. "I want to talk to these three."

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: Crime. Starve to death.

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "My soccer ball."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. "There’s no salvation in the past, so the future is better. I want to see if there’s no salvation in the future either."

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[haddonfieldwhore]

torn - vince dunn

vince dunn x fem!reader (x platonic! matthew tkachuk)

summary: with seattle on an 8 game losing streak, it’s even more difficult to choose who to cheer for; your boyfriend or your best friend

word count: 4k

warnings: language, a sprinkle of angst, drinking, nsfw themes implied but nothing explicit, mention of cheating

you fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers in your lap as you sat in the audience, paying little attention to the practice skate happening in the rink. your mind was elsewhere, unable to focus on your boyfriend vince dunn and his team as you thought about his instead. matthew tkachuk had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, and while you should have been overjoyed at the fact that you got to see him tonight, the fact that he was on the opposing team did slightly complicate things.

while it was just a game at the end of the day, it wasn’t at the same time. it felt like a double edged sword; while you knew you would be happy with whoever won, that also meant that one of your two favourite people had to lose, and you didn’t want that.

you breathed a sigh of relief that this was their last regular season game against eachother, the panthers and the kraken not meeting up too often. you felt you phone buzz in your pocket and checked it to see a text from matthew.

you looked up at the clock on the wall, which read 10:49am, meaning the kraken were almost done and you wouldn’t miss too much if you snuck out now.

you gathered your stuff, sneaking out without drawing attention to yourself, and not noticing the green eyes of your boyfriend flickering up to notice your empty seat. it was only about 15 minutes before matthew arrived, meeting you outside the cafe by sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. you let out a shriek, earning a few weird looks from people around the room as you turned around.

“you scared me!” you punched matthews chest lightly, before throwing your arms around his neck in a bone crushing hug.

“that was kind of the idea,” he laughed, holding you tight as he laughed. it had been months since you had seen him, and you always missed him like crazy when you were apart.

“you cut your hair!” you commented on his appearance as you finally looked at his face. you had obviously seen him on tv and in pictures since you last saw him in person, but it wasn’t the same as being fave to face. “last time i saw you your curls were crazy,” you smiled, remembering how long his hair had grown out.

“yeah, it’s a lot to fit under the helmet,” he smiled, and finally let go of you.

“also,” you began. “happy belated birthday! i can’t believe we were one day off from getting to spend it together,” you pouted, thinking of his birthday that had been just yesterday.

“thank you. we can celebrate tonight- after the game. i think we’re sticking around in seattle until at least tomorrow morning so we have all night.”

“deal,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

•

after a quick shower, vince towel dried his curly hair and threw on a kraken hoodie and some shorts, taking advantage of the warmer than usual weather despite it being mid december. usually after practice you were waiting for him outside the locker room, but he had a pretty good feeling that you wouldn’t be there to greet him today; the empty hallway confirming his suspicions as he sighed.

“everything okay? she’s never not here.”

vince looked up to nod his head softly at tye kartye, one of his teammates and one of your close friends. “where is she?”

“with tkachuk,” dunn replied, not meaning to sound so bitter. “he’s her best friend; they never get to see eachother,” he recovered, not wanting to give the impression that he was upset about it. he had no issue with you having friends that were on other teams, especially since you had been friends with matthew far longer than you had been dating him.

“sharing trade secrets about our practice?” tye joked innocently, and vince punched his arm.

“you know she wouldn’t. and besides, i don’t think she was really paying attention anyway,” he laughed. he pulled his phone out of his bag, checking to see if you had messaged him, trying not to be too disappointed when he saw no notifications on the screen.

•

you and matthew were walking around seattle, not straying too far from the arena, when your phone went off.

you smiled at the message, and didn’t notice matthew had stopped in front of you until you ran straight into his chest.

“loverboy wondering where you are?” he teased innocently.

“he’s just checking in. their practice just ended.”

“any-“

“don’t even ask. i am sworn to secrecy,” you scolded, with a finger pressed to his lips to quiet him. he smirked, raising his hands in surrender.

“i see how it is. does that mean you’re cheering for him tonight over me?” he asked playfully.

“i’m cheering for both of you. i don’t want either of you lose,” you admitted, and matthew threw an arm around your shoulder.

“i know. and i’m sorry they have to lose but-“

“hey!” you laughed. “don’t be an ass.”

“sorry,” he smiled. “and i promise to try not to hit him too hard in to the boards-“

“hey!” you repeated, but you knew that he was only messing with you.

“okay okay i’m done.”

•

you had gone home to vince’s apartment once matthew had to go to the panthers practice, giving you some time to get ready before the game. you and the birthday-boy would be going out straight after the game, so you had to get a little fancier than you usually did for a game, knowing you wouldn’t have time to do your makeup or anything.

putting on an outfit appropriate for clubbing and doing your hair and makeup took a little longer than usual, and soon it was time to head down to the arena with vince. he walked out of your shared bedroom dressed in his suit for the evening, a dark purple colour with a subtle blue plaid pattern. no matter how many times you saw him get dressed up, it still made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“you really do look great in a suit,” you smiled, smoothing out his blue tie and brushing that one curl that never seemed to stay put off his forehead. he leaned down to kiss your lips softly.

“you look amazing. although i have a weird feeling this isn’t all for me..” he said hesitantly, his hands landing softly on your waist.

“i mean of course it’s for you,” you paused, kissing the side of his neck softly. “but i do have plans after the game with matthew,” you admitted, feeling guilty even though you knew he wouldn’t mind.

“i had a feeling,” vince laughed, but kissed your forehead. “you are still cheering for us during the game though, right?” he smiled.

“yes, but he’s gonna be a bummer to hang out with if they lose, so think of me if that happens,” you laughed as he kissed you again, before grabbing your bag for you and getting the door. you weren’t sure how it was time to go already, but you were only getting more nervous standing around waiting, so you were happy to get going, following close behind vince as he left the apartment.

•

you and vince arrived at the arena, but split off since he had a few things to do before the game; usual player stuff. you were in the back when the panthers arrived, and while most of them didn’t pay you any mind, a certain player with golden curls sent you a wink as he walked by and into the visitors locker room. you decided that while yes, you were hoping that seattle won the game (florida could afford the loss more than the kraken could right now), you would still be an encouraging friend, texting matthew a quick ‘good luck 🥰’.

you put your phone away, and took a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. you and a few of the other players girlfriends went to your seats, and you tapped your fingers on your knee, drowning out the conversation going on around you. a hand in your shoulder snapped you out of your trance, and you turned to look at valerie, who was engaged to jared, one of the forwards for seattle.

“you okay?” she asked, and you smiled.

“yeah - just a little nervous if i’m being honest.”

“what’s going on?”

“my best friend plays for florida, so i’m just a little upset that one of the teams had to lose,” you laughed, and val giggled.

“aww. it’s okay honey. that’s the game; someone wins and someone loses - and i’m sure both vince and your friend know that.”

“you’re right,” you sighed, her words making you feel better. “thanks val.”

“no problem. are you and vince going out after the game? you’re all fancy today.”

“no, actually i have plans with matthew - my friend.”

“tkachuk?”

“yeah.”

“so you have a bit of a type, huh? tall, curly hair, a little dangerous…” she teased.

“shush.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding,” she bumped her shoulder against yours softly. “i won’t tell anyone if you secretly cheer for florida,” she whispered in your ear.

“i still want us to win,” you took a sip from your drink. “i just don’t want the other team to lose.” you both laughed at the redundant statement, and the players came out into the ice to skate around before the game began.

“what’s tkachuk’s number again? i want to keep an eye on him for you,” val asked.

“19,” you smiled. “i’m sure he’ll make his presence known.” as if on queue, you saw matt in the starting lineup out on the ice, and he nodded his head towards you, and you smiled.

“yeah, you definitely have a type.”

•

the first period went by without too much excitement, besides vince getting a penalty for a high stick. while you would never admit it to him, you always thought he looked hot sitting in the penalty box. florida got a few more power plays in the second period, but yamamoto was still able to score the only goal so far, giving seattle a 1-0 lead. you noticed vince and matt give eachother a couple shoves as play was whistles down for a save from seattles goalie, daccord.

bellemare scored the second goal for seattle, giving us an even bigger lead, and while i was happy for the kraken, my mood fell as my eyes landed on matty. he was sitting on the panthers bench, chewing on his mouthguard instead of wearing it properly, as always. on his next shift he got a good shot, but it was deflected, and the start of a fight broke out between vince and one of the other panthers, but it was quickly broken up.

wennberg intercepted a pass and got a breakaway to score seattles third goal, and your gaze went to the florida bench again. as your eyes found matthew, you realized he was already looking at you. you mouthed a sincere “i’m sorry” at your best friend, and you knew he understood it when he tilted his head sideways with a shrug; but you could tell he was frustrated.

florida pulled their goalie with five minutes left in the game, and tolvanen scored an empty netter to secure the victory early. the girls were cheering next to you and you smiled as they announced that vince got an assist on the goal, adding to his already impressive tally of points on the season so far. the time dwindled down to nothing, confirming the win for seattle and in turn earning daccord his first nhl shutout.

the fans cheered as the kraken skated around celebrating, and the panthers headed back to the locker room.

•

you were leaning up against the wall talking with some of the teams girlfriends when you felt arms wrap around your midsection from behind, and a soft kiss being placed on the junction between your shoulder and your neck. you giggled as vince’s stubble tickled your skin, and you turned around and kissed him on the lips.

“hey,” you smiled, admiring the sparkle that always appeared in his eyes when the kraken won.

“hey yourself,” he smiled, kissing you again, before his eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of your outfit. “you’re sure you’re not gonna hang with us? we’re going to kartye’s place, it’s gonna be a good time….” he trailed off, his fingers drumming softly against your hips.

“i’m sad i’m missing it, but i promised matthew; it was his birthday yesterday and i haven’t seen him in forever,” you pouted, and vince nodded.

“i get it, don’t worry. i just thought i’d ask.”

“you could come with us?” you offered, and he smiled, but shook his head.

“i don’t wanna third wheel,” he teased. “go have fun. i get you all the time, he can have you for one night.”

i raised an eyebrow, and vince seemed to realize the error in his wording.

“not like that,” he scolded, a light blush on his face, and you laughed.

“i’m kidding. you’re the only one who gets me in that way.”

“good,” vince said, his confidence returning as he kissed you deeply, before the rest of the team started exiting the locker room.

“hey, you coming out with us?” yamamoto asked, and you shook your head, but vince answered for you.

“she’s got a date with the enemy,” he replied, and you shot him a glare for throwing you under the bus, but knew the team wouldn’t care. they hazed you for a minute, but you laughed it off before they stole vince from you, him calling out for you to text him if anything happened. you waved to the guys and said goodnight to the girls before heading towards the visitors locker room to find matthew.

the panthers were still inside when you got there, so you sat on a bench in the hallway while you waited. about 10 minutes went by before anyone exited the room, and finally a defeated looking tkachuk walked out of the door. he perked up slightly when he saw you, and you stood up, gasping slightly as he lifted you up in the air. to not fall, you wrapped you arms and legs around him like a koala bear, laughing as he spun around.

“stop you’re gonna drop me!”

“i would never,” he replied, but set you down on your feet anyway. “you ready to go?” he asked, and you looked at the white button up shirt he had on with some dark jeans. his hair was still slightly damp from his post-game shower, and he smelled like his usual cologne.

“yeah, what the plan?”

“there’s gotta be a club around here somewhere right?” he asked, and you nodded, remembering the handful of times you had gone out with the team to celebrate after a game.

“yeah, i know a place.”

“well what are we waiting for?” he smiled.

•

a few hours and many drinks later, you found yourself being pulled onto the dance floor by matthew, some throwback hip hop song blaring through the speakers of the club. his hands were on your hips as you danced to the music, your back to his chest as your bodies got closer together. the club lighting was low except for the flashing stove lights, casting different colours across the people in the room.

“what are you thinking about?” matthew asked, his breath fanning across your ear as he leaned closer so you could hear him over the music, and you realized you must have zoned out.

“i’m sorry you guys lost the game.”

he laughed, using his grip on your waist to turn you to face him, his hands never leaving your body.

“it’s fine,” he shook his head, but his eyes didn’t meet yours, so you could tell he wasn’t too happy about it.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have brought it up. kinda ruined the mood.” his gaze found yours now, the bright blue of his eyes slightly hazy from the alcohol.

“and what mood was that?” he smirked.

“we’re celebrating your birthday, matty,” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face against his collarbone. you felt another laugh rumble in his chest, as his arms encircled you, and you breathed in the way he smelled; expensive. you looked up at him, and found him already looking at you, his eyes half closed, either from intoxication or tiredness. without thinking, you placed a soft peck on his lips, and then both of your froze. his eyes were wide now, and you stuttered incoherently.

“i didn’t mean to do that,” you finally said.

“you didn’t?”

“no,” you confirmed.

“okay,” he laughed, and you hit his bicep softly.

“it’s not funny matty, i fucked up,” you said seriously, and he cleared his throat.

“okay, just breathe,” he said as you began to panic. “let’s get some fresh air okay?” he led you outside, the cool december air helping to sober you up quickly. there was no one stood outside the club except a couple people smoking a little ways down the sidewalk. you leaned against the side of the building as you continued to freak out. you had to tell vince- and now, before some paparazzi posted a photo of it and he found out some other way.

you pulled out your phone, and matthews eyes widened again as his hand gently wrapped around yours.

“what are you doing?”

“i have to tell him,” you mumbled.

“tell who what-“

“tell my boyfriend that i just cheated on him, matthew. oh god-“ you cried, tears welling in your eyes.

“are you sure you should call him right now? you’re hyperventilating.”

“he needs to know. and he needs to hear from me first before he finds out from someone else,” you insisted, somehow managing to calm for breathing down, though your heart remained pounding against your ribcage.

“okay. you’re right,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not like it meant anything, right? it was a stupid drunken kiss.”

“yes. i love you, but not like that, dude.” you both laughed, and you were glad to be on the same page about it. matty would always be your best friend, and there had never been anything romantic between the two of you.

“agreed,” he smiled. “i’ll give you some privacy, but i’m not leaving you out here alone. i’ll be over there if you need me,” he said, and walked down the side of the building, keeping you in his line of sight under safe watch. you took a shaky breath, and scrolled through your phone to vince’s contact, and pressed the call button.

“hello?” he answered, and you could hear loud music in the background.

“vince - it’s me. can you hear me?” you replied, and you heard the sound of a door and the music getting quieter, like he had gone into another room.

“hey, babe. yeah i can hear you now. is everything okay?” he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

“yes - well no- but yes, i’m fine. i need to tell you something.”

“what is it?” he asked.

“i accidentally kissed matthew,” you admitted, closing your eyes like it would stop you from hearing his reaction. “we got really drunk and it just happened and it was one tiny little kiss and i’m so sorry,” you blabbered, before listening to a long painful silence on the other side of the phone.

“it didn’t mean anything? it was just a mistake?” he asked calmly, and you were a little shocked. you hadn’t exactly expected him to yell at you, but you thought he would at least sound… angrier.

“god no - of course it didn’t. i love you so much and i’m so sorry.”

“does he know it didn’t mean anything?” he asked, the expected anger a little more present in his voice this time.

“yes, vince. we’re just friends; i promise,” you insisted, and you heard him sigh on the other end.

“okay. i mean i’m not happy about it but if it didn’t mean anything i i’ll get over it. i’ll kiss one of the guys and we’ll call it even, okay?” he teased, and you laughed, slightly in relief but also in disbelief.

“have you been drinking?” you teased, and he gave a genuine laugh.

“maybe a little. but seriously - if it was just an accident i forgive you. are you guys staying out for a bit? do you need me to call you a cab or anything?” he asked, and you smiled at how much of a sweetheart he was.

“i think we’ve both had enough partying for one night. i’ll get a cab home, okay? are you and guys staying out much longer?” you replied.

“okay, text me when you’ve made it home. i think we’re almost calling it a night, so i’ll be there soon.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you too.” he said, and the call ended. matthew saw you put your phone away, and walked back over to you.

“is he coming here to kill me?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, wondering how he could joke at a time like this.

“no - i have the best boyfriend in the world and he said everything is fine since it was just a drunken mistake.” speaking of vince your phone went off in your hand and you looked at the screen to see a text with a picture of larsson and yamamoto kissing him on either cheek, a big goofy smile on his face. below it was a text that just said “now we’re even 🩵” and you shook your head, smiling as you showed matt.

“i don’t know him too well but he seems like a good guy.”

“he is,” you smiled. “i’m gonna call it a night, and you probably should to, considering i’m sure you guys have to be in the road pretty early tomorrow.”

“yeah you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “i’ll see you during the holiday break, right?” he asked. the teams always got a few days off at christmas and you usually spent at least one of them together. that meant it would o it be a few weeks before you got to see each other again.

“of course,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, suddenly sad to be saying goodbye so soon.

“okay,” he smiled, returning the hug as your cab pulled up. “tell dunn i’m sorry. and congrats on the win.”

“i will. text me in the morning?” he nodded in response, and pulled out his phone to call a cab of his own. you sighed as the car pulled away, and you shut your eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

•

you were home long enough to shower and get into your pyjamas, which was just one of vince’s t-shirts and some shorts, before you heard his keys in the door. you ran over to him and he wrapped you in his arms immediately, his familiar scent filling your nose as you buried your face in his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“i know. i forgive you,” he laughed softly. “i am a little sad i don’t get to take that outfit off you, but i might like this one even more.”

you smiled, placing soft kisses up his neck until your lips connected. he walked you backwards to the bedroom and let your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. once he was down to his boxers, you both crawled into bed, your head on his chest as his fingers traced little patterns on your thigh.

“i love you,” you mumbled, very sleepy after a long day.

“i love you too.”

“i love you more than anyone else on earth,” you clarified, and it was the truth. vince smiled, though you couldn’t see it, and kissed the top of your head.

“i know. goodnight baby,” he said softly, and you were out before you could say anything back. while he wasn’t exactly happy about what had happened, he felt better knowing that at the end of the day, it was his arms that you were falling asleep in.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 15 - La Vie En Rose

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, romantic vaginal sex, a brief reference to oral sex. Also features time jumps and the war coming to England.

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is the last chapter, and our pair finally have their idyllic home together in Wiltshire. There will also be an epilogue for this story that will be posted shortly after this chapter. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Wiltshire, UK, December 1939 - December 1940

The early December chill creeping under the hem of your wool coat instantly evaporates as your husband carries you over the threshold into your new home, warmth radiating from the roaring fires that blaze in each room.

“Welcome home, Mrs Bridgerton,” Benedict smiles, placing you gently onto your feet in the hallway, even as you do not relinquish the loop of your hands around his neck.

“Kiss me, Mr Bridgerton,” you appeal, pushing up onto your tiptoes and capturing his lips with yours.

Living in Aubrey Hall for the autumn was lovely, but a challenge to find privacy. Yes, time well spent as you were able to triage your friendship with Eloise, but tempered by a yearning to be with Benedict alone in your own home, impatient for the purchase to go through. It is three weeks before Christmas when you are finally able to take the last drive down to Wiltshire—this time for good rather than just a fleeting visit.

“I can't believe we are finally home,” you breathe happily over his lips, both of you breaking into matching grins.

“We are indeed,” he assures, withdrawing from your embrace to shuck his coat and help you out of yours. 

“Are we alone?” you whisper as he hangs both in the hallway cupboard.

“I told the two staff we have here to take the night off once we arrived, to return in the morning. They are in the little cottage down the lane, so yes, we are indeed alone, darling wife. What on earth do you have in mind?” He teases, sauntering back to you, that beguiling crooked grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I would like to christen our house,” you declare, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you slide your hands up his biceps and hook them around his shoulders, pushing your body into his, your intent more than obvious.

“Which room, my love?” his voice is like velvet.

“All of them, husband,” you declare, loving the way his pupils dilate and his breath hitches. “Absolutely every single one…”

—

Refracted flames dance across his glassy pupils as he moves over you, taking you with him, dewy skin from the heat of the fireplace you lay next to. The rug is a slight burn under your shoulder blades, not that you would ever ask him to stop, wanting marks on your body from this magical night, so long overdue.

“What are you thinking of, my darling?” 

His voice resonant as your nails scratch lightly along his spine, your toes running down his calf muscles, squeezing him between your thighs as he gently thrusts into your body.

“I am thinking…. I am thinking how free I feel,” you confess breathily, pushing your breasts into his broad chest, undulating your hips to meet his, wanting him so deep inside you are altered in some way. “I can scream your name like I have wanted to for months…”

He groans loudly, capturing your lips in an artless, open-mouthed, desperate kiss, his hands hooked around your shoulders, using his forearms as leverage to pull you into his rhythm. “Please do, my love, please do…. I have longed to hear you let go completely….” he admits stutteringly.

“I cannot believe I had to sneak around for weeks with the man I was married to,” you giggle, recalling those heady weeks in summer when all was a secret.

He huffs a laugh into your throat, kissing there. “And I cannot believe my wife had to sleep in a separate bed from me for so long…” After his proposal, admittedly, you had moved to sharing his bedroom, but seeing as it was right next to Eloise’s, it has been many months of quiet intimacy. The autumn night being too cold to spend in the unheated summer house by the lake. 

Your hands grab his shapely bottom and encourage his movements, harsher now, chasing that moment of bliss for you both.

“Never again….” you counter emphatically, twining yourself around him like a vine, never wanting to be separated from his naked body, for him to be inside you always, always….

“Never indeed….” he concurs, his voice gravelly and cracked with emotion as he spears deeper and makes you cry his name, the sound echoing up your living room walls.

—

As the winter months slip by, The Cottage, as you have both taken to calling it, is your constant refuge. And thanks to its smallholding farm, Anthony is able to pull strings and secure Benedict's status as exempt from military conscription, a relief you are thankful for every day.

Your home is a welcoming embrace when you step in from a rewarding but chilly day working in the drafty local village library—your insistence on wanting a job something Benedict never disputed. And his artistic career blossoms, too, each piece he completes becoming a hotly contested item at auction in London. A small conservatory attached to the back of the house transforms into his art studio, where he works most days crafting beautiful, lyrical landscapes that steal your breath with their scope and beauty.

And as much as your home is a place of peace, tranquillity and creativity, it is also filled with passion; many hours are spent in joyous lovemaking in any and every room of the house, the novelty still not wearing off for either of you, even months later. 

Indeed, your staff, a benevolent, older married couple who become more akin to family, soon learn to turn a blind eye to any amorous activities they may unintentionally encounter. Including one unseasonably mild and memorable evening when they returned from dinner to find you upon the lawn, screaming at the dome of stars above—your nails scraping across Benedict’s scalp as he feasted between your legs.

—

It is a cold February morning when you blink awake to the melodic trill of a robin outside the dining room window. Benedict is fast asleep as you lay cocooned in his embrace under a blanket, embers glowing ashy white in the fireplace beside you. You must have fallen asleep here after a rather vigorous late-night session on your sturdy dining table—a nightcap becoming so much more, two drained whiskey tumblers still sitting upon the gleaming mahogany.

You smile at the memory, then turn your attention to the man wrapped around you, following your compulsion to map the raised veins on the back of his hand in front of your face. Your tongue trails those contours to the constellation of freckles on his forearm that you kiss. He is so fast asleep that he does not even seem to stir…

“Maam, a telegram has just come for you,” a tentative voice calls from the doorway as you startle.

You look up to see Mrs Crabtree, sweetly averting her eyes.

“Thank you, Mrs Crabtree,” you breeze, trying to conceal your slight embarrassment at having been caught red-handed kissing your slumbering husband’s arm rather covetously first thing in the morning.

She politely bustles over and drops the envelope next to you before making herself scarce. You peel open the message, then emit a wracking sigh as a warm pair of lips slide across your shoulder.

“What’s the matter, my love?” Benedict queries, voice rough from sleep.

Wordlessly, you hand him the telegram, his eyes scrunching slightly, attempting to read it without his glasses. 

In it, your parents tersely remind you of the money outstanding to the vendors for your cancelled nuptials to Stanley and request you to send additional funds as soon as possible.

“You have been sending them money?” Benedict looks appalled.

“Yes,” you sigh, sheepish to confess to the one thing you have been keeping from him for a while now. “I have been using my income to wire back money in instalments.” 

“Darling, they should not be asking you to do such a thing!” he argues, getting slightly agitated. “They were plenty rich enough to pay for their daughter to travel to Paris a few months ago! This feels rather too close to extortion…”

“I do not wish to be beholden to them, Benedict,” you answer fiercely, “for anything.”

He sees the fire in your eyes, and his face softens, nodding in understanding, always your greatest advocate. “May I at least pay them instead?” he offers. “I am the reason you are not marrying that man after all,” he reminds you with a dry chuckle, nuzzling your cheek before twisting to discard the telegram into the fireplace.

“I knew I was not marrying that man the moment I dropped that damn shoe,” a light-hearted giggle bubbling up as you push onto your hands to hover over Benedict, recalling with perfect clarity the moment you first clapped eyes on the man lying beneath you now.

“You did?” he lilts, a demure smile claiming his handsome features, a hand landing warm on the curve of your bottom under the blanket, encouraging you to settle on top of him.

“Even if nothing had ever happened between us, I suddenly knew what desire truly was,” you concede, a nostalgic pang to return to Paris with him, to experience its beauty mirrored in his hazy eyes again.

He chuckles warmly, looking up at you with gentle, hooded eyes as you feel something swelling between your bodies. “It was love at first sight for me,” he confesses tenderly. 

“It was?” you gasp softly, smiling broadly, staring down at the man you cannot imagine your life without, touching his cheek reverentially. 

“As I said when I proposed, I would marry you a hundred times over,” he enunciates slowly, assuredly, every cell of his being radiating his sincerity and desire. 

“And I would to you, Mr Bridgerton,” you grin, leaning down to capture his lips and claim him for yourself, his breath a shocked staccato as he slides into your body for the first time without protection, so much heat and skin.

“Mrs Bridgerton,” he moans, his voice a symphony of wrecked and potent desire.

“Call me your wife,” you say breathlessly, pushing up to sit upon him, the blanket falling away from your back, your naked bodies glowing in the early morning light as you begin to move.

“Wife,” he calls, hands clamping firmly around your hips as you rise and sink upon him.

“Husband…” you call back and pull his left hand up to your face, sucking his wedding ring finger into his mouth as you stare down at him challengingly, knowing how aroused he gets when you use that word, the metal clinking against the ivory of your teeth as you shudder lightly around his stretching invasion.

This. This is all I want.

—

The following spring, May 1940, Paris is invaded. 

You manage to reach Solène and are grateful to hear she is well, the occupation for the most part peaceful, if not odd and jarring. Life for you in rural Wiltshire, on the other hand, is idyllic, spring bringing life to your gardens, a riot of flowers, herbs and vegetables growing, beehives buzzing with life—a wondrous time that is indelible in your mind, even in your later years.

But, as with all things that are perhaps a shade too good, that temporary peace is shattered a couple of months later, an air and sea blockade beginning in July, followed shortly after by the Luftwaffe bombing military targets on the mainland. A resolute but stoic fear gripping the nation as summer drew on, knowing civilian targets would inevitably be next.

At the end of August, Anthony commands the rest of his family to evacuate Aubrey Hall, the location far too close to the French coast for his liking, knowing as an insider that matters could escalate within a matter of days rather than weeks. You receive word that the family are moving to stay with Daphne and Simon further north in Yorkshire. Well, all except one key person. Eloise. 

Ever the rebel, she telegrams to tell you she has eloped with Phillip to Gretna Green, much to Anthony and Colin's (and now Benedict’s) chagrin, moving in with him defiantly, his home not far from Aubrey Hall. Instantly becoming a stepmother, too.

“Eloise, are you certain?” you implore into the telephone, September 4th, sitting in the office of the village library.

“About Phillip? Of course I am, you idiot!”

“Not that,” you wave an unseen dismissive hand. “I knew from that first night in Portsmouth you were as gone for him as I was for your brother…” you argue, her sneer at that evident even down the phone. “I meant remaining in Kent. It seems dangerous. Why don't you and Phillip come here to Wiltshire? At least for now? We have spare rooms, and you are most welcome to stay…” you appeal, chewing your cuticle nervously. 

Last night, you and Benedict had agreed she would more likely take up an invitation extended by you than him.

“I’ll talk to Phillip,” she sniffs, which is the closest you will get to a thank you for the offer.

Two days later, Eloise, Phillip and his twins are at your doorstep, and not a moment too soon as the period, latterly known as The Blitz, begins the following night. Their home in Kent is spared, but the village school suffers some damage the following week and even without her saying a word, you can see the gratitude on her face as she watches the twins play safely in your back garden.

—

“Here you go, Amanda,” you smile down at the little girl, handing her a shiny metal star to hang on the Christmas tree.

Her toothy grin is adorable as she places it on a branch, giving herself a round of applause before running off to crawl into Eloise’s lap, who is busy making festive paper chains.

It is early December 1940, and the Cranes have been living with you for four months now; you imploring them to stay as the Blitz drags on. There has been bombing all over the country, primarily larger cities, but rural Wiltshire feels as safe of a bet as anywhere, not under the Nazi flight path to London in the same way that Kent is. 

Strong, warm arms wrap around your waist from behind, and you smile to yourself as Benedict crowds into you, admiring your handiwork on the tree.

“It looks beautiful, y/n,” he opines sweetly, bussing a kiss onto your temple. 

“Thank you, my love,” you reply, swaying gently in his arms, watching the children giggle as they throw strands of paper in the air; Eloise’s appeal to them not to do so falling on deaf ears, her expression one of fond exasperation.

“I never thought I would see the day…. Eloise Bridgerton, a mother,” you chuckle quietly as he joins in.

“Believe me, as her brother, I feel sorry for those children every day,” he jests. “But even I have to admit she has taken to it better than any of my other siblings, to be honest,” pausing before pulling you tighter into his embrace. “And what say you to children, Mrs Bridgerton?” he queries, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice suddenly silky, that tone that has a frisson running down your spine.

“I say maybe, Mr Bridgerton, just maybe…” you respond breezily over the strain of carol singers from the wireless Phillips flips on, feeling the lightness of hope in your being - that one day, just one day, this war will be over, and the world will be free again.

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[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | masterlist

daryl dixon x f!oc series

ao3 link

Summary: After the apocalypse took everything Iris held dear, a new opportunity presents itself in the form of a bag of guns. Little does she know, that bag of guns starts something much bigger than she ever could have anticipated.

Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; more warnings for each chapter

Season 1

Chapter 1 - The Bag

Chapter 2 - The Deal

Chapter 3 - The Group

Chapter 4 - The CDC

Chapter 5 - Dr. Jenner

Chapter 6 - Time Runs Out

Season 2

Chapter 7 - Outlands

Chapter 8 - Manhunt

Chapter 9 - The Farm

Chapter 10 - At What Cost

Chapter 11 - Diving In

Chapter 12 - Easy Mistakes

Chapter 13 - Gunslinging

Chapter 14 - Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 15 - Saviour

Chapter 16 - Recover

Chapter 17 - Calm

Chapter 18 - Execution

Chapter 19 - Rotten

Season 3

Chapter 20 - East

Chapter 21 - Little Things

Chapter 22 - Company

Chapter 23 - Bloodshed

Chapter 24 - Where Else

Chapter 25 - Loss

Chapter 26 - Found

Chapter 27 - Woodbury

Chapter 28 - Merle

Chapter 29 - New Arrivals

Chapter 30 - Clarity is Hard to Come By

Chapter 31 - Home Away

Chapter 32 - Old Friends

Chapter 33 - It Comes Around

Chapter 34 - Tombstones

Season 4

Chapter 35 - Risk

Chapter 36 - Too Close

Chapter 37 - Quarantined

Chapter 38 - No Smooth Sailing

Chapter 39 - Inhale, Exhale

Chapter 40 - Pieces

Chapter 41 - Bonding

Chapter 42 - Never

Chapter 43 - Partly Cloudy

Chapter 44 - Alone, Not Alone

Chapter 45 - Us and Them

Chapter 46 - Sunshine and Daisies

Season 5

Chapter 47 - Threats and Promises

Chapter 48 - Or High Water

Chapter 49 - Weary

Chapter 50 - Perception

Chapter 51 - Bound

Chapter 52 - Burned

Chapter 53 - Hostage

Chapter 54 - Cavalry

Chapter 55 - Days Gone Bye

Chapter 56 - Wanderers

Chapter 57 - Soul Searching

Chapter 58 - Resources

Chapter 59 - Go the Distance

Chapter 60 - Alexandria

Chapter 61 - Uniform

Chapter 62 - Worn In

Chapter 63 - Fate

Please standby for future posts! Hopefully I will get Season 6 up and running by December, but for now Skeletons will be on a short hiatus!

Season 6

Chapter 64 - Plans

Chapter 65 - Surviving

Chapter 66 - Wolves

Chapter 67 - Code

Chapter 68 - Heads Up

Chapter 69 - Defence

Chapter 70 - Walking

Chapter 71 - Strangers

Chapter 72 - Miracles

Chapter 73 - Pretty Rough

Chapter 74 - Disruption

Chapter 75 - Hilltop

Chapter 76 - Half

Chapter 77 - Not Tomorrow Yet

Chapter 78 - Dread

Chapter 79 - Unfinished

Chapter 80 - The Darkness Ahead

Chapter 81 - Last Day on Earth

[johnslittlespoon]

Buck + Bucky Timeline Info

For fic writers or just curious readers!

Referencing different archives and articles, I've done my best to compile John and Gale's Air Force timeline pre–England, because I feel like a lot of it gets muddied and sometimes we wanna write pre–MOTA canon events lol. Hope it comes in handy!

They meet (on or around) March 29, 1940 and become Flying Cadets at Randolph Field in Texas until August 30, 1940.

Still Flying Cadets, they move to Kelly Field in San Antonio, Texas from September 9, 1940 to November 14, 1940.

Both promoted to 2nd Lieutenant Air Corp Reserve on Nov 15, 1940. A bit unsure on the events before their next promotion, because Gale seems to have gone to Barksdale Army Air Field in LA in March of 1941 for advanced flying school, but haven't found anything on whether John went too; I'm assuming he did.

Both promoted to 1st Lieutenant, Air Corp on April 25, 1942. Not clear on whether this took place in LA or back in Texas or elsewhere.

Became instructors for the 29th Bombardment Group at McDill Air Force Field in Tampa, Florida on May 25, 1942.

Promoted to Captain and transferred to Gowan Field, Boise Idaho, but possibly at different times? All I can find is that by October they were both for sure there, but Gale was promoted to Captain on July 28, 1942 and transferred then, and John was promoted to Captain in August of 1942, but it doesn't specify when he transferred.

At Gowan Field in October of 1942, Gale was promoted to Commanding Officer for the 350th Bomb Squadron/100th Bomb Group, and John was promoted to Operations Officer for the 100th Bomb Group.

Transferred to Walla Walla Army Air Field in Washington in November of 1942.

Transferred to Wendover Army Air Field in Utah in December of 1942.

Both promoted to Majors in Sioux City, Iowa in January of 1943.

Transferred to Kearny, Nebraska (assuming to Kearney Air Force Base) in February of 1943. Cue P1 of MOTA!

In May of 1943, John traveled with an advance party to Podington, England to prepare the base for the 100th Bomb Group. On May 27 1943, Gale (with the 100th) left for Bangor, Maine. From there, he flew out across the Atlantic and arrived at Thorpe Abbotts on June 9 1943. And we know what happens from then on. :-)

If any of this is incorrect or you have extra information to add to the timeline, please let me know!! I wouldn't be surprised if I've missed things, but this is how their flight school/pre–England timeline went to the best of my knowledge. Hopefully this is helpful for some other writers too! I can throw together a timeline for their missions/events during MOTA as well if that's something anyone's interested in; it's easy enough to find mission dates in comparison to finding these pre–100th dates, but it might be nice to have them all in one place. x