#I’m pretty sure they went to Berlin that year as well

[himblebo]

I have officially spent too much time contemplating Struwwelpeter today

[edgarrallannhoe]

5.08.024

Ok, i’m noticing no one is looking at my tumblr lol, so i’ll keep writing whatever and turn this into my online diary ( i have a real one that is the most gorgeous diary you’ll see, i swear, if someone is interested in seeing it i’ll post it! ) so i can write the most unhinged shit on it.

Today i woke up humming “joyride” by Kesha, best summer song tbh, and now I’m listening to it on repeat since then ( i alternate between Joyride and Guess, i’m feeling cunty today ). I discovered that i like my face more with only blush and a little bit of nose contoure, and some dark pink lipstick. i think eye liner and mascara drags my face down in some way, idk, and also makes me look older.

i ghosted a guy i knew for 4 years circa. He always treated me kinda bad, but i really cared about him and i always made sure to be kind, gentle, understanding and loving towards him, i now wonder why i was like that but whatever. He is almost ten years older than me, and he used this weird technique to keep me around that consisted in him telling me how special, smart, unique and cool i was, we made fun of others together and we used to gossip and laugh all the time, i obviously had him on a pedestal, and he knew it, and made me believe we were on it together. Idk if i was ever even in love with him, i just really liked him, and i found him interesting.

When he met a girl, he used to make fun of her with me, telling me how dumb the girl was or how crazy she was - i have to admit, these girls were really crazy, but he was as messy as them tbh, so idk why he felt so much normal compared to them -, but then he would take them out to eat and restaurants, or bring them to some fancy hotel, or send a taxi to pick them up.

The fact is, in all these years it was me going to his house - very far away from mine, like 1hour using public transports-, i would always pick up food, i used to just offer him like lunches or dinner cause i knew his economic situation wasn’t the best. I always slept at his house, that was a fricking mess; i would never enter the kitchen, and the bathroom was the stereotype of men’s bathrooms: one shampoo 18 in 1 in the shower, a practically finished toothpaste without the cap and a toothbrush that probably wasn’t changed in forever. The toilet with the toilet seat broken and the flush button broken as well, so you had to fill up a bucket in the sink and then throw the water in the toilet. A true learning experience. And yes, i’m embarrassed that this was the man i liked, please, don’t make me feel worse than i already feel.

One day, he was back in Rome ( he left rome to go live first in Berlin, then Milan ), he was sleeping in a abandoned occupied building that was taken up by a political group; the atmosphere and way of living in these building are pretty brutal, they are not the most clean, you sleep on mats on the floors, during the winter is pretty cold and so on. While we were texting he tells me something like: “Mary- a girl we both know that flirts w him since a lot- asked me to meet!! I don’t know what to do, i’ll try to find some money for a good hotel so we can spend the night together, i can’t make her come here and sleep here..”

The next day, he texts me, I asked how the night with Mary went, he says they didn’t meet, i say something like “aw that’s a bum! i’m sorry” and then he is like “hey what about you coming here tonight - at the Strike- so we can stay together here and sleep together??”. I stopped answering. Why i don’t deserve a nice hotel room? why i don’t deserve a dinner at a restaurant? why i doN’t deserve all these things that other girls can have?

We didn’t speak for a while, then he came back to Rome another time. Me and him had sex like maybe more than ten times, i really didn’t like having sex with him a lot.. he is pretty egoistical, has a very small penis that doesn’t know how to use, sweats a lot and it’s just not good. Luckily he also finishes in like eight minutes, so i didn’t had to endure this whole things for too long. While these were my thoughts on him, he always told me that i was the best sex he ever had, and that many times he thought of me while having sex with other women. One day, when he came back to rome another time, i invited him sleeping at my house for one night cause he had nowhere to go; we share a passion in common that is horror movies, so i was pretty happy to spend the night with him cuddling and watching movies. We had dinner-paid by me obv lol- and then we went to bed and put on one of those trash horror movies that i love.

that night, i didn’t really wanted to have sex, i was a little melancholic, i wanted to cuddle, hug, hold hands and give some kisses. After like twenty minutes that i was with my head on his chest, and was caressing his hand, he started to put his hand under my shorts, then under my undies; i then said: “hey bb, sorry but tonight or rn in general i really don’t want to have sex, i would like to hug and watch the movie.” idk, maybe it wasn’t the right way to put it? idk but he went ballistic. He got up and started shouting: WHAT THE FUCK I CAME HERE FOR? so why am i here? are you kidding me? are you fucking kidding me???” i was speechless, but took courage and said:” I thought u we’re here because we are friends and we like spending time with each other” “Go fuck yourself Emma, what the fuck is this? You are fucking with me, i will not be here for this.” “ok, go away then, i don’t want you here”.

He started dressing up and packing up his things, then said “you are mean, i don’t recognize you.” “go away, i don’t want you here, if you just want someone you can fuck whatever it will not be me, fuck you” “i don’t recognize you” “GO FUCKING AWAY BYEEEEE”. He went away. God had my side that night, cause as soon as he went away a crazy storm fell down on Rome; lightings, thunders. The amount of rain falling of that night was absolutely insane. The funny thing is that J had absolutely nowhere to go, cause he had to sleep at my house, and he didn’t live here anymore, so after thirty minutes he started blowing up my phone while i was staring smiling at my phone at the thought of him out there. Then the messages started: “sorry yadda yadda please let me came back yadda”, again, smiling at my phone. Then i turned off the notifications and kept watching the movie.

The story didn’t finish here, but i’m tired of talking about this douchebag rn. Kisses🤍✨

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Hi.

I’m a little confused reg the timelines on when each rammboi met. I though Flake and Till went way back, Richard being the one that’s known Till the longest but Flake a close 2nd. I also though Schneider came into the pic later. But with the Feeling B scenario I’m not sure anymore.

And, what happened to Aljocha?

Thanks.

we really do need a good timeline in this, and maybe someone already made it.

Pretty sure Paul and Flake go back the furthest, they met in 1983 when they started playing in Feeling B. Schneider joined Feeling B a couple of years (and drummers) later.

Thing is that we know a lot from Feeling B from the 'Mix mir einen Drink' book, and Flake's books and podcasts.

From the Schwerin side, we know Till and Richard met in Schwerin, but i don't think we know *exactly* when. I Think Richard moved to Berlin somewhere around 1987/88 but certainly 89 (when he defected), so it must have been before that. At some point Richard stayed at Till's for a while.

Flake and Paul met Till the way they met many people in their Feeling B years: Feeling B played a gig somewhere 'in the country' and after that they tried to find a place to sleep with someone in the audience (Till was one of them).

Just before Rammstein started, Olli, Schneider and Richard shared a place.

At the time, all of them were in various bands, and all played with otherss as well, so basically all the musicians know or played with others in the scene. There were many different combinations doing shorter or longer stints together in a band.

It wasn't until they started Rammstein, that they really found what they were looking for (at least some of them...Flake probably to this day hasn't confirmed to Paul if he wants to be in Rammstein or not 😄)

---

Aljoscha, continued Feeling B for a while with a new line-up after Flake and Paul left the band.

Unfortunately he died in 2000 at the age of 53 of a severe asthma attack 🌺

[harrison-abbott]

I used to visit Poland a lot when I was younger. It’s the country that I’ve spent the most time in in terms of foreign land (as somebody from Scotland), and I would go around the big cities. But I also visited the countryside a lot, too.

And what I felt about the Polish country especially was a sense of great beauty. Polska is a very beautiful land, with the fields and the forest. There is a dense, rich quality to this nation’s wilderness. And whilst I was watching Shoah (1985) I was reminded of all of that beauty – for a lot of it is shot in the same terrain that I mention.

This is what makes it a highly unusual documentary. Because there is no archival footage whatsoever used to portray the time period in question. What we see instead are scenes of 1980s, beautiful Poland.

Accompanying this visual array, are the interviews and words with real people who were involved with the events that happened forty years earlier. We witness a whole range of people speak about their experiences. And their stories clash and mix with the scenery.

I actually posted on this blog yesterday about H.G. Wells’ book, A Short History of the World. And I was struck by just how much violence was involved in the history between peoples, throughout the ages. It was as if violent behaviour was the key motivator behind what propelled most of the chapters. This group of people invaded another group of people in this other part of the continent, and won over this area of land, for x amount of time, until a new army invaded, and they ruled for y number of years.

And whilst I was reading this book, the violence was somehow diluted because it was so repetitive.

When I watched this documentary ^, the horrors involved were far more subjectively portrayed. Not that I’m saying that the horror in the Wells book was to be ignored. Only that, in this film, the accounts were actual people who were direct witnesses to what happened.

I’m sure we know lots of black comic jokes that are made about this particular topic. People make jokes about this genocide, in crass terms. Be it in cartoons, or in the playground, or just for a sick ‘sense of humour’. It is as if what happened during WWII has ended up as a soup of jargon, in a way, whereby words and phrases such as; holocaust, Auschwitz, concentration camp, gas chambers, Hitler, Nazi: all of these items seem to gloss over the sheer scale of the atrocity.

I remember being in college (FE college, not university) and overhearing a lad talking about his visit he made to Auschwitz with his friends. And he was telling them about “shower jokes” he had made whilst there. And the other folk who were listening were just laughing at them. And I remember reading a novel by a Hungarian writer who repeatedly made black digs about the Jews being sent off to be gassed.

What on earth is funny about what happened?

Often, I marvel at how short a time ago it was. It really wasn’t that long ago. Eighty years ago, as I write this on the 17th March 2024, it was still happening. My own grandfather was a British serviceman in the Royal Engineers, and he was rescued from Dunkirk. And then he went back to Europe and ended up in Berlin after the war ended, where he was a prison guard. Albert Speer was one of the detainees in the prison he guarded.

And I am 31 years old now, and my grandfather was only two generations above me. This is how recent World War Two is in historical terms.

As for a film, it is very good. It is nine and half hours long, so it takes a while. And many of the stories included are so grim that I had to pause for a while and do other things, just because the content got so oppressive. But in the way that is shot, and the manner in which the information is delivered, is somehow magnetic. Or, rather, you feel that you are watching something that is important to watch. Which, I believe, is what films are supposed to do.

Not everything was pretty, in a visual sense, throughout this film.

This was not the point I was trying to make earlier. What I meant was that, there are many areas of Poland where the old camps were demolished and now they are surrounded by green, fertile land. Particularly with Treblinka: it just seems like a lost place in the sticks, and you wouldn’t think anything awful had gone down there if it weren’t for the cemeteries.

But with Auschwitz, it has remained intact. That famous shot of the train track, with the entrance on the horizon. The ominous tower above the entrance … it just looks like something out of Hell.

I think it is profoundly important that they kept Auschwitz preserved. In the same way that it was essential for Claude Lanzmann to have made this epic film.

There are many scenes whereby he interviews, via his translator, the Polish people who remember the Jewish folks before they were taken off to the camps. And the lady translator speaks back to him in French what they said. Lanzmann also speaks in English and German to various other people who were involved. And there is Hebrew at points as well, and Greek. And with this collage of languages, one gets a sense of the magnitude of the whole ordeal. It makes you incredulous how mammoth this massacre was. And stuns you to think that it ever possibly happened.

I won’t go into details about a particular part in the doc: but there was a note of disbelief amongst the victims as well. Or, rather, disbelief before they became victims. They couldn’t believe that they would be murdered in such a way, on a mass scale. And it happened across a whole continent.

This is not an easy documentary to watch. But, it makes you think, and it’s worth experiencing. I certainly rate it highly amongst the many documentaries I’ve seen. And it is a huge achievement from Lanzmann and the rest of his team.

[formulinos]

hello. i actually have something serious to talk this time.

as some of you might know, i’ve been working on a piece i call “the elusive hyperfixation corner” as a sort of working title - i don’t really want to discuss what it is about until i post it. i started researching and developing the concept back in may 2021, which means that in 2 months time i’ll complete two years working on it.

logically, i didn’t devote myself full time to it: i’ve moved to france in the meantime and studying/working here demands way more time than back at home. i’ve also had several health struggles i’ve talked about before (special shout out to covid last year, didn’t kill me but surely made me wish i was dead!) and family issues that i had to navigate while being in a whole different hemisphere. all of that means i didn’t have a lot of time available for starters, and occasionally i had other ideas that were more viable to work on because they didn’t demand as much time. take the last HC for example, i read capitalist realism in roughly a week while taking notes and then completed the whole thing in three days. anyway.

this doesn’t mean, however, that i’ve set it completely aside. on the contrary, i frequently went back on the notes and time actually gave me perspective on what was missing, and this is the point i wanted to get at: i felt my amount of source material was pretty scarce. mind you, when i first started writing it properly, i had already done a chunk of work i’d say is similar to the 1982 championship series (if any of the guys who i did talk about it in detail want to correct me on this, feel free to!). but i constantly remembered other places i could go and books i needed to fetch to find maybe a bit or a piece that could fit into the text.

it got to the point where i needed to stop myself because it’s akin to self-harm, truly. it doesn’t feel good, i got paranoid thinking there is stuff missing and i lose out on days that i could be working on writing because i’m reading or watching stuff that will translate in barely a line of the final product. the result is that i got over 18k words just in notes plus two parts out of five theoretically written, but i’m not satisfied at all with them, so i’ve decided i’ll rewrite what feels wrong. i haven’t stopped checking content entirely since there are some videos i need to go through so that i can gif stuff, etc. but this is legit where i’m halting this part of the process. i hope you can forgive me if it still feels like i wasn’t in depth enough.

i wanted to have posted this so, so much before. there was a specific date that really crushed me not having anything to deliver to you - you’ll understand when i post it. ideally, i’ll be able to turn it in before the summer break, but this might as well go all the way to december since i’ll have to wrap up my interniship and move back home in july/august and my whole month of may is pretty full too (i’m taking a girls trip for monaco e-prix, then my family will come to france and i’m thinking about surprising them w a short stay in london, and i’ll go to berlin at the end of the month. oh! and arctic monkeys concert somewhere in between).

i feel like george r r martin talking about the winds of winter here, but i do think it’s important to give the three of you that care a small update on how things are going. please wish me luck! i promise i’m working hard and hopefully the result will please you. cheers and forza ferrari.

[oldbutnotyetwise]

The View From Where I Sit

     My perspective has changed over the last year, both literally and figuratively.  A year ago I was walking around, albeit with a slight limp, with no idea what was waiting up ahead for me.  Now, less than a year later, I am confined to a wheelchair.  I assure you, it is a pretty drastic perspective shift.

     One of the definitions of perspective is “a point of view”.  My point of view has changed from someone who stood around 6’2” to someone who now is always seated and views life from somewhere around 4’.  I’m not sure, looking at life from 4’, was that where I was in Grade 4 or 5?  One of my few attractive traits to the opposite sex over the years was my height, it allowed my date to wear high heels if she chose to, and I would still be taller than her.  Just another box that I no longer would receive a check mark in.

     Previously when we went out shopping together and would part ways, my wife just had to stand still and look around and she would see my head wandering in one of the aisles.  Now when she loses sight of me she has to walk along the ends of aisles to see where I have rolled myself to.  This is further aggravated by the fact my dear sweet wife is a worrier if she hasn’t seen me for a few minutes there is a panic that arises in her similar to a mother who has lost a four year old toddler in a Super Store.  This also applies to loud noises around the condo, any bang, bump or crash brings her running from the other room, as she enters her eyes sweep the floor expecting to see me sprawled out and helpless.  What she normally sees is me looking down at whatever I have dropped, perhaps using some inappropriate language while I ponder if I really needed whatever it is that is now laying on the floor out of my reach. 

     My need to be in a wheelchair also brings with it a constant condition of dehydration.  You see if I need to pee it is a big deal, I can’t just pop into a nearby restaurant or even just go and pee behind a tree.  More often than not the restaurant will not be accessible, or if it is, the washroom won’t be.  Do you know how many restaurants I look at enviably wishing I could try them out, but the step, or steps at the front door may as well be the Berlin Wall.  So the point being, I limit my liquid intake so when I go out I won’t be in a urinary crisis.  We walk our dogs three or four times a day, I can almost hear them snickering at me as they casually squat and pee wherever and whenever they want to go.  I’ve even had to forgo my treasured after lunch tea for fear it will interfere with the afternoon dog walk. 

     When we lived up north we had our go to restaurant, Match, at the North Bay Casino.  It had good food, good service, decent prices and was totally accessible with an accessible washroom.  We haven’t found a comparable place in the Cambridge area yet.  We recently took my wife’s daughter out for her birthday dinner.  The call was made ahead of time to the restaurant and they said yes they were “Accessible”.  We arrive and roll up to the front door, no automatic door opener.  The door gets held open but there is a ridge at the front door that the wheelchair can’t get over.  A fellow customer is kind enough to help get me and the chair through the door with me feeling like the spectacle I very much have become.  We have our dinner, and everything goes smoothly but then I need the washroom before we go.  I go to the accessible washroom but it is locked, I wait and wait and things are approaching Crisis Level and I am desperate enough to try to get myself into the regular washroom when the Accessible washroom door opens and out walks our able-bodied waiter who has just had the dump of the century.  He can’t even look at me, and I am seriously angry because I had already paid the bill and given him a good tip which I wish I could now take back.   

My wife’s favourite restaurant is Swiss Chalet, as you approach you will see the friendly wheelchair sticker in the window, they even have the buttons to open the front door, so can someone explain to me why there is no automatic door opener on the washroom? Just picture for a second me in my manual wheelchair, I need both hands on the wheels, having only one hand on the wheel you will just be going around in circles, so if both hands are on the wheels how am I going to open the heavy bathroom door, especially on the way back out when the door opens in?

     You see places call themselves accessible, stick the handicapped sticker up at the front of their establishment, but they really aren’t and to the best of my knowledge there are no set standards that are enforced as to what “accessible” really is.  So I will be that dehydrated guy sitting in the corner the restaurant that has no stairs, but I will be sulking because I can’t have a beer because ….. well we all know that as quickly beer goes in, it comes out.

     When we had to leave our northern home I wanted to go somewhere else where no one knew me.  I didn’t want my old friends and coworkers seeing this retired detective, runner, hiker, dog walker rolling around in a wheelchair.  I am in a new city, I’m just that guy in a wheelchair that is often seen out walking, I use this term very loosely, with his dogs, wife and/or daughter.  No one knows me and I kind of like that anonymity as more and more of my body stops working.  

     A very dear friend has loaned me her old electric wheelchair as she has a new one.  First thing you need to know is that these things are the cost of a small car, they tend to run from $25,000 - $45,000.  They are 400 pound monsters capable of doing much damage if you are not careful.  Within about thirty seconds of trying it out for the first time I ripped the end piece off the kitchen island in our new condo because I hadn’t noticed one of the foot rests had turned out.  So far I have managed not to drive it through any of the glass doors in our Condo building.   Now all those nice sloped sidewalks that look like they are designed for wheelchairs, not all of them are.  I am constantly scraping the bottom of the wheelchair or getting myself stuck when trying to cross streets.  These are things I never would have noticed until I was actually using a wheelchair.  The manual wheelchair which we often use when going out is even worse, the front wheels hit a ridge on the sidewalk or doorway and it is almost like an eject button has been hit as the wheelchair suddenly stops but I’m still going forward.  More often than not I have to go through the doors backwards.  

     I’ve always been quite happy in my role as a wallflower, the guy who isn’t really noticed and who just sits back and watches everything that is going on.  Well those days are gone, there is nothing at all discreet about a 6’2” guy sitting on a 400 pound power wheelchair.  There is no getting around it, I am now a spectacle.  One day as my wife was helping me into my wheelchair she spotted someone on the restaurant patio who appeared to be taking our picture.  I was tempted to go up and offer to pose for him if he was so interested in taking my picture but chose instead to just ignore it.  I tend to be a pretty observant person so I see the looks when people think I don’t notice.  Now I admit I have no idea what they are thinking when they look at me, is it pity, curiosity, compassion or perhaps discomfort at being so close to the disabled person.  The point is, I miss the anonymity of blending in and not being noticed.

     I will tell you about a recent visit to an Ikea store, a place that I mistakenly presumed would be “accessible” because they are such a forward thinking store.  I attempted to use two of their Accessible washrooms, neither was big enough for me to get off my wheelchair and use the toilet.  One of them had such a sharp turn going into the washroom I managed to get myself lodged in the doorway because besides the sharp turn, I was also trying to hold the door open as there were no automatic door opener.  Yes I was making a scene, jammed in the bathroom door, trying to dislodge myself while people were standing there waiting to get in.  The other thing I was constantly was turning down aisles only to find them blocked by merchandise on skids causing me to have to back out because there isn’t room for me to turn around.  I don’t know that I will return to an Ikea store anytime soon.  I emailed Ikea to tell them of my experience when I visited their store, but never received a reply.

     Our new Condo is right beside a rather large theatre that would appear to have some good shows coming up.  My dear wife is working so hard I thought it would be nice to take her to the upcoming show but there aren’t many seats left, and there certainly aren’t any “accessible” seats left.  In the old days I would have just bought those tickets even if the seats were in the middle of the row, that’s not possible anymore.  Lyle Lovett is coming to the next town over soon, I’ve always wanted to see him perform in person, but to be honest, the thought of being in a wheelchair, surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of people makes me pretty uncomfortable.  So once again I will be staying home.

     Now those are some of the negative things I have encountered so far, but I have also experienced much kindness from friends but also from strangers. The truck driver that sees me waiting to cross a busy street and pulls his truck across two lanes to block traffic so I can get across.  The cars in the long stream of traffic that stop, again blocking traffic so I can cross.  These aren’t one time things, these are things that happen frequently.  The people who hold the doors open for me, or hold the elevator, yes maybe they would do that even if I wasn’t in a wheelchair but I think I am shown more kindness because of the wheelchair.  All the incredible kind, caring people involved with the  Sunnybook Hospital, ALS Society, all the care people that have looked after me so well up until this point.  So many amazing people I would have never met if not on this challenging journey.

     Some former work colleagues and friends came and we all went out for lunch wandering downtown (they wandered, I rolled).  We were enjoying our visit and not paying attention as the sky turned dark and a torrential downpour started.  Now normally you would call an Uber or Cab, and they could have, I even encouraged them to, but they refused because they didn’t want to leave me racing through the rain in the wheelchair on my own.  One friend got a large garbage bag to help keep my seat dry and then we rushed back to the Condo and upon arrival we were all drenched…but we were also laughing and I was grateful, these three friends know how important it is to stand by your friend, through thick and thin, wet and dry.

     A rather sad note, travelling in the power wheelchair does not fool my iPhone into thinking that I am walking.  For the guy who once would average around 10,000 steps in a day, my average over this last week is 54 steps a day, and I assure you each one of those steps was exhausting.

     So I am adapting to life at this new lower perspective, and although there are many, many challenges that come with living your life while seated, there are also many good things if you take the time to look for them.  Life is just as beautiful from 4’ as it is at 6’.  Perspective is your point of view, both where you see the world from, as well as how you chose to see the world.

     What goes through your head when you drive or walk by someone in a wheelchair?  Do you ever stop to ponder what your life would be like if you were the one in the wheelchair? 

[suuho]

SM's europe management has been so bad lately. I wanted to attend the R to V tour the moment it was announced and I basically just lucked out by stumbling over the promoter they are using cause SM didn't post ANYTHING on the official Red Velvet accounts after announcing the tour. Just saw today that the same promoter is going to be in charge for the WayV fanmeet tour making it to London and Paris and it immediately put me off from even wanting to attend that. Like the Red Velvet concert tickets only went on sale 13 days !!! before the first of the shows. They kept saying 'we will update you soon' and didn't post anything so I am feeling sorry for all European SM stans at this point honestly. If SM keeps using this promoter for Europe events its bound to be terrible. I still got my tickets to see Red Velvet because francly with an 8 year old girl group I don't even have hope to see them go on another tour after this one and I need to go while I can, but I am expecting it to be an absolute shit show after the last 8 weeks of mess and silence from SM on all their official channels.

it is hilarious, because i saw that they announced the wayv fanmeet (that i would love to attend) and it is literally in three weeks. like, uhm. what???? so i am absolutely not surprised that this is the same promoter they have used for red velvet as well. last week i stood at work and got an email from my local venue that rv is playing on the 27th of march???? and it was so random, because i had completely forgotten they are even touring europe. luckily, i saw them last year already so i don’t have the need to go and see them again but i was so fucking puzzled because wdym red velvet is playing berlin in two weeks and this is the first i’ve heard of it?

the thing is, with the new shinee social needs admin i actually have hope that they will inform us in due time but it still hinges all on sm and they are obviously absolutely terrible at giving us (european fans) anything. so, i’m not really getting my hopes up for anything, and at this point i’m pretty sure this festival date is the only shinee date we’ll be getting in europe in 2023. i would love for them to pleasantly surprise me and prove me wrong, but i doubt that will happen.

and don’t get me started on the european dates that were teased for the nct 127 tour and never happened. like, what the fuck was that fr. 🤣

[sometimesrosy]

Hello Rosy, how have you been? I’m from a small country (Portugal) and currently reside in a small town seaside town. Life is pretty good but I feel like something is lacking. While I was studying, I lived in the capital and enjoyed being there. My whole family is from there, including my mom, but to work reasons she’s been residing in this small town even before I was born. I had plans to stay in Lisbon, but fell in love during university with a friend from small town, so I ended up staying. Everything was fine, I didn’t really think twice about it. My partner doesn’t really like Lisbon or the fast life that comes with it. With time, we’ve talked about going abroad, so we could broaden our horizons, but bf isn’t even up to leaving this small town of ours. I understand it’s unfair of me to ask him to leave his whole life behind, but he’s a low-paying job that he doesn’t love, and has no family that keeps him here (his mom died a few years ago, sadly). We’ve been together for 5 years, even bought a house together, but I’ve been feeling more and more dissatisfied with my life. I don’t know exactly what’s missing, but I don’t want to be here much longer. I also don’t want to go to Lisbon. When I think of moving abroad, I think of somewhere like Berlin. Lately we’ve been talking a lot with a friend that came from New York after living there for 30 years. Unknowingly to me, I’ve been having this urge of maybe moving to the United States would be a good idea. The people who sold the house to us also went to live in the States, in Massachusetts. I’ve been thinking maybe New York is too much right away, but Detroit and Boston seem like amazing options. I don’t need to have a dream job. Having studied Translation, I’m not even sure what Id do there. But I do feel like some change is necessary. I definitely do not want to give up on my amazing relationship, but we’ve been talking about this for years and all he tells me is “you go first, then maybe I’ll follow”, meaning it’s a possibility Id give up on him all together and I don’t want that, he’s my life. I guess my question is, if there’s any hope that one day we might eventually move, or, if he’s so against it, I might as well just erase that idea and try to be content with spending the rest of my life here.

May I just add that he shields himself over the idea of going abroad by saying that everyone he knows that has gone abroad has come back and say they much prefer being here, including the friend who came from New York. However, that friend loved New York, and decided to come back to his town because he felt like he needed a change. So yes, he shields himself with that, no matter how many times I tell him if we don’t like it we can always come back here. We’d still have a house and family.

+++

If you're really not happy being where you are, you need to talk honestly with your boyfriend about it. It seems that he is not really interested in a wild adventure without any sort of security in another country. Which is fair. Maybe that's why he says he would follow you if you went first. He wants a place to start from. An anchor.

IDK. This seems to be a choosing point. A dividing place in life. You honestly seem to need to go and try someplace new, even though you don't know if it will work out and be what you want in the end and you like having the safety net of your hometown. He doesn't sound like he wants to go, but he is leaving the door open for you to do what you need, and if that works out and it needs to happen, he might follow you. Although maybe not? Maybe if you leave it would mean ending the relationship later if not sooner.

This is not an easy decision you have ahead of you. It seems like you have to give up one for the other... at least give up the comfortable relationship at home for an unsettled and uncertain one while you adventure.

I can't give you a way to have them both because it seems simply that you want to go and he doesn't. I've never had a long distance relationship but I've heard it's pretty hard. Maybe it will be too hard for you and you will want to come home after giving another country a chance. IDK. I can't read the future. I can't tell you that your old life will even be waiting for you if you discover you want to come home or your boyfriend will eventually follow if you love life in another country.

But if you don't go, I don't think you'll be happy. I think you'll always feel the need to try a new place and perhaps a resentment that your boyfriend kept you from going.

Tough choices my friend. No easy answers.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

“8 May.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy.” 

Jonathan Harker, Full-Blown Solicitor: At first I felt like talking about how everyone in the entire country feared for my life if I came here, and half the people in the country actively tried to stop me from coming here, and how I almost got eaten by wolves on the way here, and how the coachman is a wizard, and how my host literally never eats around me but spends the whole time I’m eating staring at me like a creep was making too big a deal out of things and complaining for no reason, but now I’m sure of it--this place has bad vibes.

So Jonathan is getting a little antsy because, uh, everything that’s happened to him and also Count Dracula is a complete night-owl who won’t ever let him go to bed before dawn because he’s too busy asking all sorts of questions about England and mysteriously telling Jonathan about his adventures as a merciless warlord for the past thousand years and then laughing it off like “Oh my family just keeps really good records of these things lol namaste :).”

We’ve finally come to the infamous Bermuda Shave Scene where Jonathan’s like:

Count Dracula didn’t show up in the mirror. What the fuck?

He startled me so badly that I cut myself a little.  Boo.

When he saw the blood he went for my throat like a gotdamn murderer. D:

I was like “AAAAAAH!” and jerked away, and he grabbed the crucifix instead, and he was back to normal.  Pretty sure I didn’t imagine that, though?  This whole thing is so weird.

Count Dracula threw my mirror out the window, and it broke.  How am I going to shave now? :(

Guess I’ll have to use the bottom of my shaving pot.  It’s metal, so if he throws that out the window, at least it won’t break. :( :( :(

I mean, for real.  Jonathan is sitting there like “But there was no reflection of him in the mirror!” followed immediately by “This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near.” He discovers this guy has a mysterious Won’t Show Up In Mirrors Syndrome and is like “I’m really beginning to think this guy is sketch.” Who can really blame him for not following up on it, though? Our man’s on a mission to find himself a band-aid. 

Count Dracula: Take care, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it! *yeets shaving mirror out the fucking window as hard as he can*

Shaving mirror: *shatters into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below*

Jonathan: I was… using that?  To shave?

Naturally after all this, Jonathan is like, “Well, a man still has to eat.  Not Count Dracula, which is so strange!  Ha ha, he’s such a weirdo.  I’ve never even seen him drink!  Anyhoo, breakfast time.”

He goes exploring in the castle after breakfast and finds that he can’t get out, and also that it doesn’t really matter if he can’t get out, because they’re in the middle of nowhere.  He goes completely bonkers at discovering this, with all the built-up panic about wolves and sorcerers and staying with Count Dracula finally breaking through his Berlin Wall of denial, and just tears around the castle like a cat with the zoomies trying to open all the doors and windows.

Meanwhile, Dracula is cleaning up the breakfast dishes, making Jonathan’s bed, and planning lunch.

I mean, on the one hand, this is Count Dracula we’re talking about.  On the other hand, this guy is basically running a bed and breakfast with one guest by himself, while trying not to let on at all that he’s the one doing everything, and he’s only done the costume quick-change trick the once, so the rest of it really is involving some ‘60s French farce nonsense where he’s ducking into random rooms and booking it down hidden passages and sticking to the ceiling with half a roast duck under one arm to keep Jonathan from noticing. 

Also he’s spending like 8 hours a night doing nothing but monologuing at this dude, which really eats into your whole cooking/cleaning/shopping time, and you know the brides certainly aren’t going to be helping out with any of this shit.  

Did any of them become the immortal blood-drinking hellwife of the devil to sweep the floors and wash the windows so a twenty-something English idiot would think they had servants?  No, they did not.

Sidebar: Can you even imagine the reaction of the poor peasants to Dracula needing normal people-food for the first time in centuries?  Even if you assume he went out and bought it, it’s something out of a nightmare.  

You’re a 19th century small-town grocer, minding your 19th century small-town grocer business, when in walks Count fucking Dracula wearing the shittiest disguise you have ever seen in your entire 19th century small-town grocer life.  He pulls out a wooden box with dirt still on it, snaps open the rusted-ass lock with his bare hands, starts plunking fucking Roman coins down on the counter like it’s nothing and is all “Hello yes I am a normal person having a normal guest for a few months and need… food.  Normal food, for one normal person.” while refusing to break eye contact.  And if you take more than a few seconds to recover from the aneurysm this induces, he starts helpfully listing foods that you vaguely remember your great-grandmother talking about having when she was a kid, and you have to have another aneurysm about that.

More likely the dude just rolled up to the nearest farms’ storehouses and grabbed anything that looked plausible, and the peasants who lived there were like, “I swear to God and the Virgin Mary and all your favorite saints that I saw Count Dracula legging it out of the barn with three of my chickens and my last bag of coffee beans.  Maybe he’s decided to stop eating people?” Which of course leads to another mass gathering in front of the inn while everybody debates over what this means and starts blessing everything in sight, and somebody gets the priest who’s like, “He’s feeding the Englishman.  He has not decided to stop eating people, he’s a vampire, he can’t just decide to stop eating people.  Biting someone who’s just drank a pot of coffee is probably the closest thing he can get to an espresso, God help us all.”

Anyway, eventually Jonathan reverts to form with “I’m definitely getting murdered, but maybe if I pretend I don’t know that, I can squeak a few more hours out of this.” and also “If I confront him and he denies it, everything will just be really awkward.”

Which, in his defense, it would be?  Imagine that conversation, between these two idiots.

Jonathan: You’re keeping me prisoner here.

Count Dracula: I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s preposterous.  I would never.  You are my honored guest, not my prisoner.

Jonathan: So I can leave whenever I wish.

Count Dracula: Of course.  There’s the door. *gestures to series of locked doors*

Jonathan: They’re all locked.

Count Dracula: No, they’re not. *sits back, steeples fingers, stares at Jonathan like a muppet until Jonathan just gives up and eats dinner like another muppet*

“I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.”

Jonathan: I was utterly and completely doomed.

At this point Jonathan goes sneaking around the castle like a creeper and manages to watch Count Dracula fluffing his pillows and fussing with the table service and presumably basting the chicken with a little chef’s hat on, and all Jonathan can think is:

“This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me?”

Like, I don’t know, my dude.  We could consult, for a moment, your Fun List of Foreign Words everyone in the town was throwing around when they found out you had a coach ticket to Castle Dracula:

“Ordog” (Satan)

“pokol” (hell)

“stregoica” (witch)

“vrolok” and “vlkoslak” (were-wolf or vampire)

Sure sounds like your dude might be some sort of shape-shifting warlock or some shit!

“What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash?”

Meant they didn’t want your ass to get ate, Jon. 

“In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.”

Jonathan Harker really looked at this situation and went, “If only I can get a lonely egomaniac nobleman talking about himself…”

8-10 hours later: He’s that Dracula, all right.

Dracula: The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told.

Also Dracula: My desire to go to England where no one knows I’m a fucking vampire has nothing to do with the British Empire kicking the shit out of Russia two doors down from here and my subsequent discovery that the British Empire is pretty much never not kicking the shit out of somebody, somewhere, to the extent that another thirty or forty war crimes per week could go completely unnoticed if I play my cards right.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐈𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞

________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ᴘʏʀᴏᴋɪɴᴇᴛɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) heey!! Can you please write something (possibly smut pls) in which Bucky falls in love with Tony's adoptive daughter but they have to keep it a secret?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: SMUT 18+, fluff, age gap (you’re like mid-twenties and Bucky’s early thirties) angry Tones, Steve being such an asshole lmao 

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I imagine that you were like thirteen to fifteen during the attack in new york and your parents uh… died ig and Tony took you in and they find out you got super powers teehee

________________________

It started when the Avengers had their first movie with Bucky as a new recruit. He had completed his evaluations and was applicable to join the team. That’s when he met you for the first time. 

You were this beautiful ball of craziness and light and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were tipsy, he could tell and every sudden burst of laughter or even a sneeze you’d spark a flame setting something on fire making you laugh even more. 

He practically fell in love with you that day. 

Weeks later he chalked it up and asked Steve more about you. He told Bucky that your parents had died when you were young during the attack on New York almost ten years ago now and Tony took it upon himself to take you in and protect you. 

“How did you guys know about her powers?”

“We didn’t. Few days after she moved into the Tower she sneezed during breakfast and set her food on fire. I don’t think she knew about them either.”

“Who were her parents?”

“We don’t know. She told us their names but it’s like they don’t exist; no medical history, socials, nothing.”

“Weird.”

You were a mystery, a beautiful mystery. But one thing everyone was that you were Tony’s daughter. Adopted, but still. And Tony still didn’t like him. It was an argument on it’s own to even let near the compound; telling him that he wanted to date his daughter would send him into cardiac arrest. 

So you guys are sneaking around.

Of course you noticed his shy and lingering eyes. You were flattered. You agreed a bunch that Bucky was one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You didn’t push anything and waited for him to come to you. And when he did, he came hard, literally.

It started when Steve was away on a mission in Berlin. Bucky had woken up from a nightmare and he hadn’t had one in weeks. During his time here, because of his infatuation with you, he grew close to you. 

You laid under him so perfectly; like you were meant to be there. The way you bit your lip to muffle your moans so you wouldn’t wake anyone. The way your eyes fluttered when he hit that particular spot. The stinging from your nails dragging down his back. 

“Fucking hell, you feel so good wrapped around me, doll,” he grunted as he continued to thrusted in and out of you. 

“Oh god, Bucky,” you moaned before pulling him down to connect your lips together. 

“Ugh, your dad’s gonna kill me,” he grunted.

“Fuck him,” you chuckled breathlessly.

Breakfast the next morning was foul. Everyone was eating as normal and Steve was set to fly back in from Berlin, but y couldn’t shake the awkward tension between you and Bucky. Both girls could sense that something had happened and when you told them later that day they nearly screamed like teenage girls. 

“You can’t tell anyone! Especially Tony!”

“We won’t say anything,” Nat giggled, “He’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if he kills Bucky first,” Wanda snorted.

Since then every lingering touch, every persistent stare, you found yourselves in either room making the most of however many minutes you had together until someone came looking for you. Your chest pressed against his, combing your fingers through his hair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. 

“You’re absolutely irresistible, doll,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna get caught one day,” you panted.

“I know but we haven’t yet, so be a good girl and turn around for me so I can that gorgeous ass while I fuck you from behind.”

You turned over, getting on your hands and knees instantaneously feeling a pleasurable sting from Bucky’s hand on your cheek. He quickly soothed the pain by rubbing his hand over the red mark before gliding up your spine to softly rub your back. 

He slowly slid back in through your folds eliciting a moan from you both. His pelvis slapping against your soft skin, the sound echoing lewdly through the room. Your arms gave out and your face buried into the sheets under you letting Bucky hit deeper inside you making you nearly scream.

You threw your head back up covering your mouth to muffle the moans. Bucky bit his lip harshly in an attempt but wasn’t as successful as you were. His hips snapped violently, stuttering every now and then as he got closer to a release. 

“God, Buck! I’m gonna cum! Fuck!” you whined.

“Shit,” Bucky groaned before spilling inside you, coating your walls with hot cum. 

He fell forward pressing soft kisses to your slightly sweaty skin. He lifted himself and turned you around, settling between your legs lazily kissing you in your post sex bliss. You looked so pretty with your hair spread out on the sheets and the marks that littered your neck and your breasts. He truly fell in love with you and you did for him too. 

“Y/n,” he whispered looking intimately into your eyes.

“Bucky,” you whispered back with a grin.

“I lo-”

“Hey, Buck. I’ve been looking for- What the fuck!” Steve barged through the door to find you two nude in each other's arms. You tucked your face in your shoulder away from the door in shame and Bucky saw red. He reached above your head immediately and threw as hard as he could at the intruder.

“Get out!” 

Steve slammed the door shut with wide eyes and furrowed brows. Did he see what he thinks he saw? He went to the lab to look for Tony. 

“Hey, Tony, do you know about Y/n and Bucky?”

“Excuse me?” he sassed.

“I uh- I found them together. In Buck’s room. Uh... naked.” 

Tony slowly raised his head with an evil expression staring directly into Steve making the big super soldier feel timid. 

“What!”

You and Bucky cleaned yourselves up and changed as soon as Steve left. You sat next to each other on his bed unsure of what’s to come next. 

“Maybe Steve won’t say anything?” Bucky shrugged.

“My dad’s gonna kill me,” you sighed.

“Hey, I won’t let him-”

“Get the hell away from my daughter!” Tony shouted slamming the door to Bucky’s bedroom opened; behind him stood and guilty Steve and you felt rage.

“You fucking told on us!” you spiraled fire around your fingers ready to fight for revenge. Your hands and arms glowed bright red and orange and yellow and pits of fire glowed in your eyes. Steam practically

“Hey calm down,” Bucky grabbed your waist. He stepped in front you and lifted your chin to look at him. The second your eyes met with his, your entire body cooled down and you felt yourself fall in the ocean that are his eyes; as if a wave had dissipated the fire you created. 

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” Tony fumed.

“Leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this,” Bucky defended.

“The hell she does. You’re sleeping with my daughter!”

“I’m not talking about this; I’m talking about what we have. If it was anyone else, you wouldn’t be having a cow,” Bucky growled. 

“Tony,” you stepped forward.

“Dad,” you whispered; Tony's eyes snapped to yours. 

“Please, I love him.”

“No,” he couldn’t accept it.

“Well, whether or not you like it, we’re gonna be together.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“We’ll just keep sneaking around like we have been for months.”

“Months!”

“Yes, months. And it would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for you!” you pointed at Steve, who casted his eyes away in guilt.

“Dad, please. I love Bucky so much; and you’re not going to take him away from me,” you cried. 

Tony noticed how sincere you spoke. And the way he easily calmed you down; he knew there was love between you two. He wouldn’t be to live with himself if he took something that clearly made you so happy away from you. As much as he couldn’t move past his issues with Bucky he knows that Bucky was right and that this has nothing to do with you. 

“I don’t want any more accidents with walking in your private time. You’re lucky it was Steve and not me; I would’ve killed you both on the spot,” he said to you.

“Thank you, Dad,” you hugged him tightly before going back to Bucky’s side. 

“And you; if you so much as put her in a bad mood, I’ll fucking kill you,” Tony said before leaving.

“Well, well, well,” Bucky looked at Steve.

“Bucky, leave him alone; it’s not like he almost ruined our lives and tore us apart,” you chuckled.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think freak out like that,” Steve apologized.

“And why didn’t you lock the door?” he asked.

“Yeah, why didn’t you?” you looked at Bucky with furrowed brows. 

“Don’t turn on me, this is not my fault!” Bucky defended as you and Steve shared a laugh.

“Well, I’m happy for you guys. You’re good together,” Steve smiled before walking out and closing the door. 

“Wow, Toyn fucking terrifying when he’s in dad mode,” Bucky turned to you.

“Yeah, but he’ll come around.”

“I love you too, by the way.”

“I love you, Bucky.”

==========================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l 

@Pluto-grl 

Taglist?

[charlie-rulerofhell]

An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Heyo, I'm back with another translation. This time the article is from the German Rolling Stone website who met with Måneskin after their TikTok performance at the Schwuz, Berlin, and posted the interview yesterday. Again there were some interesting questions asked (and the pictures they added to the article are quite nice, though severely lacking some Ethan content, but check it out!).

Again, I hope that no one has already gone through the effort and translated it or is currently working on a translation. Also this is an official invitation, if you stumble across any articles or video interviews in German that you would like to have translated just message me and I'll get to it! (or if you just wanna chat about Måneskin, my inbox is always open :))

Have a great day everyone!

Full article under the cut.

-----------------------------

An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Jose-Luis Amsler

July 6, 2021

Måneskin are just what this generation has been missing. Passionate, corny, and full-on honest. In an interview with Rolling Stones, the ESC winners explain to us why they would never work in a normal job and why the hype for their appearance is sometimes going too far.

Damiano, Victoria, Thomas and Ethan are entering the nearly deserted dance hall, before they wait on stage in a red-blue spotlight. They are wearing glittering fish net tops, black tape across their nipples, leather pants, heels and make up. The camera men who are filming in portrait format (9:16) suitable for TikTok are whirling up the haze of the fog machine.

Måneskin are [in] Berlin to give a TikTok concert. A TikTok livestream of this scale has not been done often – tension is in the air. The four Italians don't know at this point that due to the stream the few people present are not allowed to clap or cheer. In complete silence and with slight uncertainty the four are crossing Neukölln's club Schwuz. A few puzzled glances are exchanged. Finally,  Måneskin are striking the first chord.

Then the rich sound of Ethan's bass drum is tearing through the silence. It's almost as if someone has flicked a switch somewhere. There it is, the rock star presence that is hovering over everything they do, with an ounce of arrogance (in the best sense of the word). Singer Damiano is dancing lasciviously on his heels, and during an especially ecstatic solo guitarist Thomas is throwing himself down on the floor in a way it can only be done by a passionate 20-year-old musician who had never had to worry about the looming doom of an artificial knee joint [for 'passionate' the interview is using the term 'besessen' which means 'possessed', and although I think it's rather supposed to describe the way Thomas is 'possessed / obsessed' with the music, thus passionate for the music, you never know if they didn't mean to say that the way he dances looks 'possessed' … I mean, they might be on to something here ;)]. Around half an hour and about 120 decibel later, Damiano says their goodbyes with an almost shy-sounding “Okay, bye.” After the performance, we do our interview in the Schwuz.

Rolling Stone: It was a little bit weird, right, when you went on stage today?

Damiano: Yeah, that was really strange (laughs). They only told us after the performance that the audience was instructed to stay silent for the stream.

Vic: But at least they weren't silent because we were shit (all laughing). We are slowly getting used to playing without a live audience. I mean we are doing this now for more than a year.

RS: What do you think about these new kinds of concerts such as the TikTok livestream today?

Damiano: Well, at the moment it is the only option to perform anyway, so it's alright. But of course you cannot compare this to a proper concert.

Thomas: But it's pretty cool that so many people can experience our concert live.

Vic: Also we're gonna start touring again soon. Right now we are arranging some festival and gigs. In December we will be touring Italy and afterwards we are planning to go on tour through Europe. But we don't have anything fixed yet, there is just a lot going on at the moment.

“A lot going on”. Quite an understatement considering the recent journey Måneskin has made through the past weeks after their ESC win. Their singles “Beggin'” and “I Wanna Be Your Slave” went through the roof (also thanks to Social Media) and are currently dominating the international charts – lately they were also number one in Germany. There is barely a radio station that isn't playing the band on heavy rotation [would love to know what stations they listen to, have never heard Måneskin played in German radio tbh :( ], and everyone opening Instagram or TikTok these days is flooded by Måneskin content. Every second a new fanpage with the name of 'maneskin_obsession' or 'damianos_slut' is springing up like a (virtual) mushroom. It sounds like a cliche, but Damiano, Vic, Thomas and Ethan became international stars over night.

“Of course it's nice to get compliments. But sometimes they definitely cross a line.” – Damiano David

RS: How has your life as a band changed since your win at the ESC in Rotterdam?

Vic: I think we don't even notice a lot of what's happening. Right after the ESC we went to a studio in the countryside where we made music the whole day long. So at first we didn't realise that so many things were happening all around us – and that we had so many new fans. We're just now beginning to learn what's going on. We were at Sony yesterday, there were so many fans waiting for us. That was crazy.

RS: A large part of the attention you are getting now is about your outer appearance, your style, your attractiveness. Is that getting a little too much sometimes?

Damiano: Of course it's nice to get compliments (laughs). But sometimes they definitely cross a line. Especially when we just talk about our music or about a social or political topic that we care about. In those moments it's just completely inappropriate to reduce us to our appearance. Sure – when I'm posting a half-naked picture of myself on Instagram I know that I will get these kind of comments. And then it's totally fine, I mean in the end I'm posting the picture to show myself. But sometimes it's not the right place for it.

RS: And also you should be allowed to wear what you want without being sexualised, right?

Vic: Yes, absolutely. We are wearing these outfits because we feel good in them, not to put the focus on our bodies. And in general it shouldn't always only be about how you dress. We are musicians – so first and foremost it should be about our music. But I think it will still be a long way until we will reach that point.

“That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those things should never be equated with each other.” – Victoria De Angelis

RS: But still you are sending a message with your style against stereotypical gender roles. I guess it's also not only coincidence that we are in the Schwuz today, which is normally a party location and safe space for the LGBTQ community.

Vic: Yes, that is all part of the positive message that we try to send. We want to give our audience the feeling that they are free. Free to wear whatever they want to wear, be how they want to be and love whom they want to love. It's unbelievable that there is still so much intolerance in our times. That has always been really important to us so we try to talk about these topics. We also believe that the narrow-mindedness of society is an educational problem. When you grow up with people all around you telling you how you should be, you will never feel completely free. The more people are talking about it, the sooner things will change.

RS: Some artists who are advocating for these topics are accused of 'queerbaiting', that they are only pretending to be a certain way to gain more support from the queer community. Have you also been faced with those allegations?

Vic: Yes, a few times. But of course we never pretended to be anything. Some people accuse of us queerbaiting because we look and act the way we do. But that's flawed thinking. We don't believe that clothes are connected to a person's sexuality. That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those two things should never be equated with each other.

RS: This courage for free self expression that you are conveying is mainly lived by our (young) generation through Instagram and the like. What is your relationship to social media?

Damiano: For me it was almost scary at first. The more we grew, the more people were trying to twist all of my words. But over time you start to understand that with more fame you also get more criticism. The happier you look the more hate you will get. It's not only like that for celebrities. If you are brave enough to show the things that make you happy there will always be people that support you, but they are also those that envy you. Of course, this should never lead anyone to not express themselves openly but that's easier said than done.

Vic: We are also trying not to spend too much time on social media. In the end we just try to be honest with our fans and to avoid negativity.

[caption under the picture of Damiano: 'Is already being compared to icons such as David Bowie']

It's actually surprising how little power a win at the ESC holds in most cases. Almost 200 million people are watching this shining spectacle every year – and still, a few months afterwards it is hard to remember who those people were that got covered in confetti during the award ceremony. It's the well-known curse of a casting show that rests on the winning bands. When just next year a new sensation will come to marvel at, how much impact does a win have then? There are exceptions of course, like Lena who is until this day, 10 years after her win in Oslo, a part of the more famous music scene of German pop music. With their charisma, their unusual sound at least for our modern standards, and their contemporary message Måneskin could become such an exception, too.

It's likely also helpful that the band already had a standing in the Italian music scene prior to their ESC participation. Their first album 'Il ballo della vita' already achieved platinum in 2018, three years prior to Sanremo and the ESC. And then there is also the long way that led the four schoolmates to this point that helped them gain the necessary persistence. Because contrary to what some people might want to believe Måneskin are not a phenomenon that has just been deliberately bred to be this way by the entertainment industry for Eurovision.

“I have worked [in a 'normal' job] for a whole month in my entire life – it didn't really end well.” – Damiano David

RS: You were all raised in Rome, the capital of the catholic church. What was it like to start as a young progressive band in such a conservative environment?

Damiano: In the beginning, when we started as buskers, no one gave a damn about us anyways (all laughing). But of course … Once we got a bit bigger there were a few people who had a problem with us. For example when we went to Sanremo, there were quite many people who thought that the way we looked and acted we shouldn't be allowed to represent Italy. They didn't even want to listen to our music first.

Vic: Especially when it comes to appearance and sexuality, Italy is a little more backward than other countries. The church probably also has an influence there. They are often quite conservative of course, so many people grew up with such a [conservative] mindset.

RS: You once said that the song 'In Nome Del Padre' is an answer to exactly those people. What does the song mean to you?

Damiano: Back in the beginning [of our career] we had to deal with a lot of problems. They didn't want to let us play in clubs because we would take too much space as a band or because they didn't like our (fashion) style or because they didn't want to pay us. Italy isn't a good place for bands. Our musical style was also criticised a lot. Many people were telling us: Don't do that [rock music], you won't get popular with that in Italy, you will never achieve anything with it. Of course those comments were hurtful but they were also a good reason for us to continue with what we did. And we turned our sadness into anger. With that song we wanted to tell those people from back then: Fuck off and look at us, we did it!

RS: Did you ever consider working in a nine-to-five job and live a 'normal' life?

Damiano: Nah, not really. For one month in my life I worked [in a 'normal' job] – it didn't end well (all laughing).

Vic: We all made music since we were kids. It's a huge part of us, that we couldn't just ignore. And the most important thing is that you do something that makes you happy. At least that's what we believe. So we started from a young age to put all our time and energy into music.

Thomas: Yeah, exactly. Ever since we were in school together we always made music. That has always been our main focus and it is until today. We play and play and play because it is the only thing that …  

Ethan: … we live for.

Damiano: Music has also something very therapeutic for us. Even when we are in a bad mood or fight with each other – yeah, that happens, too – then all of that is gone the moment we enter the stage. Maybe that's the beautiful thing about music – that it allows you to forget everything else. You're just standing on stage, having fun with your friends.

From most bands you wouldn't buy such a corny love letter to music. Mostly it just sounds like an empty phrase, a well-practiced quotable line. But when there is something that defines Måneskin and that becomes more and more evident during our conversation it's their uncompromising honesty. The four of them are definitely not lacking a sense of humour but they take their music very seriously. Which should not be taken for granted in a generation that has mainly produced sarcastic cloud rappers and has made cynical twitter comedy a national sport. And maybe Måneskin are exactly what this generation was lacking all along.

Still, the four musicians, all in the age of 20 to 22, are also prone to the constant need for self-expression, that has become an intrinsic part of today's life. This does not only reflect in the outfits of the band (always 'on fleek') and their Instagram profiles, but also in their lyrics. Their latest record 'Teatra D'Ira – Vol. 1' shows a clear theme: The album is an ode to individuality, accentuated by fast and hard sounds.

Sometimes this message fitting for a Disney movie [really? guess I have been watching the wrong Disney movies my whole life …] is wrapped in a contrasting loud and forceful packaging, but never so much that it becomes inauthentic or self-caricaturing [note: I'm honestly not entirely sure what they wanted to say with this sentence since it uses a lot of rhetorical devices that could be interpreted in different ways, but I'd say this sounds the most plausible]. And in the end, the thing that makes Måneskin so interesting is their unification of the spirit of this time – between TikTok hedonism and an omnipresent political statement – with the music of past generations.

“When you are twenty, you start to think about what the future will hold.” – Damiano David

RS: Your musical style is often described as classical 70s rock, but in fact there are many different influences in your music. Sometimes you groove almost into funk, sometimes it's more rapping than singing. How did this mixture come to be?

Thomas: It's just that we all have our own individual influences and then we meet somewhere in the middle. And we always try to stay open for experiments.

Ethan: Yes, we are very experimental in our song writing process.

Vic: We also don't want to limit ourselves to what is regarded as typical rock music. If rap fits better at some point then we just add that in. It just happens naturally without us thinking too much about it.

RS: So why was it still rock music in the end?

Vic: Because it's the style that we feel most represented by. But actually we just play the music that we enjoy playing. That's really important to us so that we can show something real on stage. We don't want to pretend to be something that we aren't or mock those people that really enjoy our music. You should always be proud of what you're doing and never fake anything just to sell more records.

RS: Is there something like an Italian rock music scene?

Vic: There are quite a lot of bands – but the most of them are much older than us or they are more going in the direction Indie rock. There isn't really a young rock scene, which we think is a pity. But ever since we got more famous people are telling us that they started listening to rock music because of us or that they bought their first guitar and such. That's incredibly nice!

RS: So you're saying that you also want to show this style of music to a younger generation. And you capture this contrast quite well in the song 'Vent'anni', which is a typical rock ballad but lyrically portrays the thoughts of today's youth. Where did the motivation come from to write that song?

Damiano: With the song I wanted to show that I'm just a normal guy, a really typical 20-year-old. I experience the same things that other people in my age are experiencing, I'm just doing another job than them. Also I wanted to describe this age as a whole because I think it's a really special age. At 20 you start to think about what the future will hold. I think it's one of the most important stages of your life. Since we (the four of us) are all in the same age, I then started to mix our experiences together. In the end the song shows what it means to us to be 20. There is a lot of good things – you are quite carefree and are looking at life enthusiastically. But on the other hand you're too young to do certain things and too old to do others. Some people are treating you like a full-grown adult, but …

Vic: … not entirely.

Damiano: Exactly. It can get pretty frustrating at times. We wanted to show our audience: Hey, we're also just 20 years old, and we're going through the same things as you. We understand you.

RS: Except that you are the ones who are becoming a world-wide phenomenon right now. How do you want to maintain this honesty?

Damiano: I think that we could just reach this point because we have always been authentic – for better or for worse. Also we are just trying to have fun with what we're doing together. That's something special that we don't want to lose. In the end we're just four friends who started to live their dream. It's actually pretty simple. Of course – we go on stage, we get a lot of attention, we give interviews – but when we come back home we're just four friends.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

[enneadau]

Well dear wonderful author, I am currently stumped and I’m not sure I know how to get out. This might not make much sense, I’m sorry in advance.

I was sort of daydreaming and trying to picture what the 5Ds version of Ennead would look like. It helps me to avoid falling down the rabbit hole of other storyline based questions that aren’t questions as much as random thoughts that I should be patient for their reveal.

I ended up wondering just how much of the story would change because I always sort of assumed that the original characters from DM were dead and Judai/Jaden was in another dimension while the whole 5Ds thing went down. Because they probably would have made a big difference if they had been active.

After much thought I haven’t been able to picture a 60-80 year old Seto Kaiba just laying down and letting any part of Domino turn into a lawless junk heap that the 5Ds Satellite is shown to be in the show. That goes doubly so for your wonderful characterization of Seto when he is “teetering an a mental breakdown when what is his is threatened.” But that’s just my love for “Help Me” showing.

Maybe this is because in my experience, 80 year olds tend to have very few 🦆s to give and even at that age, are prone will do whatever they want. I just can’t picture your Sato Kaiba at 60 years old, his city literally torn apart, deciding that he is going to let the government or whatever the 🦆 “sector security” is supposed to be, turn the Domino bay into a Japanese Berlin Wall.

Tracking citizens through gold marks I could see him doing, but that’s for a different reason and he would probably be a lot more competent with the execution of said tracking than how it’s used in the show.

Actually he’d be a lot more competent in many different components of the series.

Especially with all the work he has put into getting a theme park up and running in like 6 months for Battle of the Gods and what I can only guess he did when his school and niece were sucked into another dimension. Compared to that, building a bridge to reconnect a portion of the city to the mainland is practically child’s play to the old man. He’d probably be upset that he had to actually leave his house to tall people what they are doing to resolve the new catastrophe.

To be honest it might be because I can pretty easily picture him with silver hair berating everyone at fault for the incident while waving a cane around and saying that they are some of the most stupid people he’s come across in a long while before firing them all.

And that’s not even getting into my thoughts about what Judai must be doing during this time in her 40s-60s. For some reason I can imagine her finding Akiza or Rua or both before the story even starts and helping them get a hold of their powers.

I also seem to be stuck with the idea that Yugi’s first life after her separation with Meisa happened during the whole signer/dark signer incident and she was supposed to take up one of the marks again. But that might just be because I remember you saying that she would have been reborn around the same time as Yusei and the others and recalling that the English dub used “nearly five-thousand years ago” to describe their timeline)

So, to conclude dear author, Goddess of this universe. How crazy do I sound for contemplating these thoughts when I know you had just started watching the subbed GX series a few weeks ago? I should be very aware that you have not done a deep dive into 5Ds but I still can’t stop thinking about it.

Thank you again for all of your hard work. Everything in Ennead, Miraculous, Help Me, and well everything is just amazing!!! I don’t know why I’m focusing on the 5Ds aspect of this. Especially when you have such well fleshed out stories already written.

I don't remember saying Yugi died by then, but there's been new plans:

Yugi is still alive by 5ds. She's the Guardian of Old Domino.

When Zero Reverse happens she and Meisa rejoined to unleash their divine magic and manage to save a portion of Domino and the people living on that area but get overwhelmed because even Gods could be killed in Egypt and end up asleep for a while.

Old Domino, the section of Domino they managed to protect, is untainted by the darkness from the blast because of her magic, but Yugi has to maintain it or it would get corrupted from either side by the darkness in the areas to either side. That takes a LOT of energy. Like it started corrupting while they were unconscious straight after the blast, but she managed to fix it and now has to maintain it to keep it safe. If she uses too much magic for something else, she loses ground on the safe zone So she has to focus on protecting Old Domino.

She's like 70 years old but she is still kickass enough to keep a section of Old Domino alive. The Dark Signers can't pass into her territory, but she can't leave either. She's tied to the land now. She does take in waifs and strays that need looking after and help them learn how to handle any magic they gain.

Her daughter, on the other hand, is a part-time Turbo-Duelist, part time psychic-trainer, psychic being the 'up to date' term for Shadow Touched Duelists.

This is all pre-5ds stuff though because I haven't seen the series. Beyond that, I'm not sure how else I'm going to progress. I'll work it out when I see more of 5ds.

I am trying to ignore the desire to put Mana Mutou, Suguru's daughter, in with Yusei and the others right now. XD

[morizoras-cave]

Delicate (Request)

Marvel Cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Hey I have a request. People think because I'm a small(5'3") girl I'm a "Delicate flower" and I'm really the complete opposite. So Marvel Cast x Teen!Reader. Reader was a hardcore stunt double(jumping off buildings,in simulated car accidents, fight scenes, ect.)before she got into acting,but because she's so young they try to prevent her from doing her job. (I'm evil so have her do one of the most risky stunts and nail it)

Warnings: stunt, violence (kind of), language, concerned costars :)

(A/N): hey yall im gonna update hopefully twice today or twice tomorrow? it’s because im going to BERLIN with my SCHOOL on sunday, so i dont expect to be able to write a lot. i already feel kind of guilty, since i havent even written that much this week? it can just be really exhausting you know? anyway i know none of you guys mind, its just what i keep worrying about, but anyway hope you all enjoy this :D

“Y/n, can’t you please reconsider this?” 

“No, I’m doing the stunt!” 

It was getting annoying at this point. You and the cast had been filming the newest Marvel movie for the past 4 months, and finally came the day, where your stunts were filmed. You only had this one scene (and one or two others with a bit of action) in the entire movie that included stunts, and you, being an experienced stunt double before turning into an actor, were excited. In fact, you were pretty sure that your experience as a stunt double, was what had gotten you the job in the first place. 

You expected that your co-stars would know this, but none of them did, and you found it hard to bring it up, without feeling like you were bragging or something, so you just didn’t tell them. But that was turning out to be a bad idea, as they were getting increasingly worried. 

During the first couple of months, it was mostly light chuckles and small remarks. 

“That’s gonna be tough, huh?”

But as the set was built and the day came closer, the remarks turned into a worried demands. 

“Y/n, that is way too dangerous! Tell the director that you want a stunt double!” Anthony had told you firmly and worryingly, as you came onto the set, wearing your costume. You furrowed your brows and tilted your head up to look at him.

“No, Anthony. I already told you,” you mumbled. Sebastian, Chris (Evans), Scarlett, and Tom (Hiddleston) looked over and a flurry of sighs came. The argument was starting again. 

“Look, maybe you should just listen to us - that stuff is really dangerous, and you’re just too young,” Chris told you, giving you those worried blue eyes. 

“I mean, look at you! You’re.. You know!” Sebastian knew immediately he shouldn’t have begun that sentence when he saw the narrow-eyed glare you sent his way.

“I’m what?” 

“You know... Delicate..” 

You rolled your eyes, intending to walk to a different part of set, where you wouldn’t be ridiculed, but Scarlett’s voice interrupted you. “Alright,” she said, “I’m gonna go ask Joe to give you a stunt double-” 

Just before you could retort, because, boy, was it annoying, a set worker yelled across set, running busily across set. “Guys! You’re on now!” 

You smirked cartoonishly, knowing you’d get to do the stunt, and set off to your starting position. Your coworkers watched you triumphantly getting ready, and exchanged deflated glances. They, reluctantly, got into position as well. 

“Action!”

You felt a power surge as you started, almost immediately jumping into the action. You did it just as it was written in the script, ducking beneath flying fists, taking fake punches, delivering soft blows and jumping and flipping in the air like it was nothing. 

As you dashed across the set, you glanced at Tom and Sebastian. They were both doing their own thing, but you found that their attention had been drifted slightly from the fight and onto you. Their mouths stood slightly agape.

You suppressed your grin, and climbed to the area of which you’d be jumping into a fairly narrow safety pad. You glance down and felt both anxiety and excitement tingling in your stomach. God, you’d really missed being a stunt double. 

You saw Anthony and Scarlett frowning, and then Chris glancing at the director, probably to signal yo get you down from there, but both directors were looking solely at you. 

The ground crunched beneath you, as you turned, pretending to look at approaching enemies coming up to the ledge from behind you. Then you looked down the jump and bit your lip, acting scared. 

“Welp, I guess I’m doing this,” you said as scripted, and then let yourself fall. Just as your body fell between the gap, you grabbed onto a small branch, placed there very purposefully. Your body bounced violently at the motion, and your arm tugged at the weight of your own body. 

You heard the actors playing the villains trample above you in confusion. 

“They probably jumped over! Let’s go!” they hissed, and the ledge thundered and small stones fell, as they all left you in the gap. You looked, once more just like in the script, at the ledge, the branch, and then beneath you. 

“God, bad day..” you mumbled, and comically you let yourself fall. You landed, rather gracefully in your opinion, on the pad, and fell onto safety. 

The set exploded in applause. The directors, set workers, actors and actresses, everyone was seemingly impressed, and you smiled with pride. 

“Woah, holy shit, holy fucking shit, Y/n! When’d you learn to do that?!” Chris asked excitedly, everyone running over as you stood up. 

“I was a stunt double for years. I love this kind of stuff,” you explained and watched them roll their eyes and smile in disbelief. 

“Why didn’t you say so, you dumbass?” Anthony tried to be angry, but he couldn’t hide how impressed he was. “But, for real, damn that was cool.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Anyway-” 

“STOP CELEBRATING, WE’RE NOT DONE!” One of the directors had a megaphone and he made big eyes, as he fussed you all along. The cast laughed at him.

“Alright, but, uh- Next time, just tell us, Y/n. You gave me a fucking heart attack.” Scarlett cursed at you, booped your nose, and then jogged back to her place. You laughed and nodded.

“Tell me too!” Tom hissed, glancing at everyone waiting for the cast to stop fooling around, booped your nose once more (a very boopable surface, if you will), and ran to his position as well. 

Everyone traveled back to their places, and then you would work the scene over and over, and at the end of the day, you all went out to celebrate because, as the cast liked to phrase it, you were ‘inexplicably cool’. 

You enjoyed the food and the glory, and all was good. Looks like you weren’t so delicate after all. 

___________________________

Tag List:

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[koolkat9]

Hetalia Poly Ship Week 2021: Day 1

@hetalia-polyship-week

Prompt: Movie Night

Relationship: BFT+England, implied germano

Word Count: 694

Let’s Go to the Movies

For Arthur Kirkland, Friday nights used to be quiet, consisting of himself, a book, and some tea. It seemed to be the perfect way to end an otherwise long and stressful week. But in recent years that plan changed drastically.

He still couldn’t believe he was in a relationship with three of the loudest and most annoying men in history. Francis, though always there, never failed to get him going. Antonio, with who he shared many years of violent altercations, but also found extremely attracted. And Gilbert, who he actually didn’t find that annoying (other than his issue with controlling his volume) who complimented him in a way that he actually believed. Why he fell in love with them was a complete mystery (not). They couldn’t be more different, but somehow, someway they made it work and Arthur found himself enjoying the time they spent together.

Friday nights became movie nights for the four of them, alternating which house they went to each week. Though Arthur usually didn’t care for the movies the other three chose, he still went for the cuddling, the way all of them seemed to be able to quote the movies word for word in silly voices, the occasional snide comment/bickering, the snacks. Basically, he loved just being there with the ones he loved and the ones who loved him in return. He never admitted any of that to anyone, even his lovers, but over the years of them dating, Arthur was pretty sure they had picked up on it. 

“Are you ready to go mon lapin?” Francis asked, coming behind Arthur and wrapping his arms around the Brit’s waist.

“Mhm. Just finishing up packing our snacks.”

Francis had come over the night before. It had become a regular occurrence in the past century or so for the Frenchman to randomly show up at Arthur’s house (even pre-dating their romantic relationship). At first, it used to annoy Arthur, but now he couldn’t imagine it not happening. 

“Bon. We have a bit of a flight after all.”

“Yeah Yeah. Get the car started, I'm just about done.”

---

Antonio was already at Gilbert’s by the time they arrived in Berlin. Luckily Ludwig was staying with Savino that weekend, so they had the house to themselves. Still, Francis and Arthur found Antonio and Gilbert cuddled up under a blanket downstairs. That was their spot Arthur supposed, though he did prefer upstairs as the screen was larger and the furniture and bit more comfortable. 

“So what’s on the list today?” Francis asked, taking his seat and throwing his legs over the other two’s laps. 

“Oh I got it all set,” Gilbert beamed, “I’m thinking of a Disney night. We got Snow White, we got Cinderella, Sword in the Stone for you Arthur, Pirates of the Caribbean, Tangled, Hunchback Notre Dame, even The Black Cauldron!” 

Francis, Antonio, and even Arthur found themselves smiling at how excited their Prussian lover sounded as he listed off each film. They all liked Disney movies to some extent, but it was Gilbert who was the hugest fan.

After grabbing some popcorn and drinks, Gilbert popped in their first film before joining the other three on the couch.

---

By the time the third film rolled around, Francis was already fast asleep, head laying on Antonio’s shoulder. Gilbert had rested his head on Arthur’s lap, trying to keep his eyes open. Arthur wasn’t making it easy however as he combed his hand through the Prussian’s hair, eventually lulling him to sleep. 

“Maybe this should be the last one,” Arthur suggested before letting out a small yawn. 

“I don't know if you’ll make it that long mi conejito.” Antonio brought his hand up to tuck a piece of Arthur’s hair behind his ear only for the Englishman to smack it away.

“I can manage just fine.”

Antonio smirked. “Fine, fine. We’ll see.”

Arthur only lasted five minutes before Antoni felt him lean against his side.

The Spaniard let out a light laugh, placing a kiss on Arthur’s forehead. “I’d call this a pretty successful movie night,” he whispered before turning off the t.v. and settling down to sleep as well. 

Translations:

Mon lapin and Mi conejito = My bunny

[lokidoki-imagines]

Red String of Fate Part 1

So I wrote out a whole piece and then my iPad decided to just delete it 🥲 But yeah, I’m a Zemo simp now apparently 🤷🏼‍♀️ 

Warnings: None really for this chapter, but I suppose it’s the start of a love triangle so if those bother you, then this ain’t the one for you 😂

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Zemo x Reader, Sam x platonic!reader

Word count: 1514

Having worked with Bucky and Sam before the blip, you knew the two of them together meant trouble. There was never a plan, only arguments and bickering over who had the right to make the plan, which usually ended with you making the plan instead. What wasn’t in your plan, was meeting your friends at a small Berlin airfield after their trip to see Zemo.

After having found the space outside of hanger 9, you pulled your phone out and called Bucky. “Okay, I’m here. So what’s my surprise?” Hoping it was going to be something nice, like some of those famous plums he always insists are better than anywhere else in the world, you let your imagination run as you heard him chuckle on the other end of the phone. “Don’t freak out doll, but look to your left.”

Pulling your phone away from your ear as the line went dead you could feel the goosebumps creep along your skin. Swaggering as if he owned the place, and you’d be surprised if he didn’t, was the one and only Baron Zemo; flagging him either side was Sam and Bucky. Shaking off the shock you shoved your phone back into your jacket pocket and stormed over to the three approaching men, noticing an elderly man stepping off a private jet spurred you into walking even quicker. 

“What the hell are you two thinking?” Stopping a few feet away from them you ignored the man in the middle. “You said there was a surprise,” you let your eyes flicker over to Zemo’s brown ones before forcing them back to Bucky “Usually when someone says they’ve gotten you a surprise it’s something pleasant.”

“It’s his fault.” Sam spoke quickly, shoving a finger in Bucky’s direction. 

“Hey, don’t pin this on me. He broke himself out, I only-”

“Oh so you’re completely innocent in this? Pretty sure you-”

Your eyes drifted from your bickering friends to the silent man between them. He was unusually quiet, any smart ass quip he had planned had turned to lead on his tongue the minute you came into the picture. He had wrinkles, only slight, at the corner of his eyes that weren’t there the last time you’d seen him. Days worth of stubble marked his cheeks, but even with all the years and heartache that he’d endured since you’d last seen each other, he was still exactly the same as you remembered. You could only wonder what he was thinking, seeing you here with his enemies after all this time.

“Are we interrupting something?” Sam spoke carefully, pulling your attention away from the criminal in front of you. Bucky and Sam were watching you both with cautious looks, as words begin to fail you. You’d never told your friends about your past further than you’d moved to the states as an adult. They knew you lived in Sokovia for a number of years on and off, but they didn’t know all of it. You didn’t know them during the Civil War, you became fast friends with them during their exile days on the run from the law after meeting Sam and Steve during one of their recon missions. Of course you knew why they were on the run, it’s why you never told them everything. If they knew-

You couldn’t get any words out as your mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water. You were blindsided seeing Zemo again and you couldn’t think straight, it had been so long and so many feelings began to rush to the surface you didn’t know where to start or what to say. Letting your eyes drift back to Zemo you pleaded with him silently to keep quiet, to keep your past a secret for the sake of your friendship, the sake of your reputation.

He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. “No. I’m afraid I don’t have the honour of knowing your friend,” his lips curved into a smirk as you let out a breath, “though I would certainly like to be introduced.”

“Let’s get on the plane, then we can play nicey - nicey.”

Zemo brushed past you as Sam followed him onto the jet. Your mind was racing, memories of your past rushing back as they escaped the box you’d kept  sealed for the last god knows how many years. “Hey,” Bucky placed his hand on your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just a shock, thought I was getting flowers.” The close contact of Buckys body to yours would usually send you into a tailspin, racing heart and nervous smiles. Now, it was empty; void. Your thoughts occupied by the passenger on the jet.

“I’ll bear that in mind for next time.” He promised as you turned towards the jet, “Let’s get going. The quicker we’re out of Berlin the better.” 

Walking down the gangway you took the seat opposite Zemo, Bucky opting for the one to your right across the aisle. Letting your head fall back as the engine roared to life you laughed a little, rolling your head to look at the super soldier. “I thought I was getting some of those famous plums.” 

You could feel his chocolate eyes watching and assessing the situation, just as easily as you could feel your nerves tingling on the back of your neck. Bucky let off a casual laugh, his head lolled to the side too. “Next time Doll, I promise I’ll get you some of those plums.”

“Perhaps I could get some too.” Flipping your head back you could tell he was teasing, testing the boundaries that were being set and seeing how far he could push it. “I do love plum jam, especially the homemade kind.” 

You set your jaw as his eyes began to dance with mischief. He held the power now and he knew it, you had no choice but to bite your tongue as he toyed with you as innocently as he could. “Well I bet you’ve never had jam as good as Y/N’s, she makes the best jam I’ve ever tasted.” Your heart swelled at Sams sweet compliment as a smile formed as a thanks on your lips.

“Oh I bet it’s delicious.” Zemo drawled, his lilting accent just as you remember it.

“So where are we going now that we’ve broken a convicted felon out of prison?” His eyes dropped from you to look out the window as he took a glass of champagne from the assistant. The old man offered one to yourself, but you declined politely.

“Madripoor,” The Sokovian opposite you drawled in his accent, his fingers pausing in the pages of a book. “Now I don’t recognise this name...Nakajima?”

Leaping out of his seat before you knew it Bucky had one hand fisted in Zemos shirt, the other grabbing a little notebook you recognised as Steve’s. “You touch that again, and I’ll kill you.”

Sinking back in your seat you watched the three men bicker over Marvin Gaye. Taking a cup of tea from the assistant as you relaxed back into your seat, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were heading to Madripoor of all places. You’d only been once, a lifetime ago now, but it made an impression.

“So who are we playing dress up as?” You asked the man opposite you, sipping your tea. You knew his games, and you knew he’d take any opportunity to be the one in the know.

Sam sat forward, “I’m sorry, dress up?”

Zemo heaved a sigh, his hands folding over his lap with a head tilt. “We all have a part to play if we are to get the information we need from Selby. Sam, you will play the part of Conrad Mack aka The Smiling Tiger.” You snorted at Sams expression, his deadpan face betraying his thoughts.

“Seriously? He even has a bad nickname man.”

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Your smile dropped, you knew that was going to be hard for Bucky. That much was evident from the scowl on his face. “And you, Y/n.”

His smile oozed mischief. “You will be my beautiful wife, accompanying her husband on business.” 

Sam and Bucky began to protest as his smirk grew. “Fine.” Their shouts of protest falling short as you and Zemo started each other down.

“You can’t be serious Y/N.” Sam began, his hands flying to the brown eyed man opposite you.

Bucky shook his head, letting loose a humourless laugh. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near her, then-”

You felt a swell in your chest at Buckys protectiveness, “It’s either be his wife or his whore,” Zemo’s smirk dropped, his eyes glazing over as you smiled weakly at your friends. “Plus he’s rich, I’m getting some jewellery out of this.”

Closing your eyes to get some rest before you landed, you could feel a set of eyes on you; whether they were chocolate brown or ice blue was a completely different matter.