#htwk

[rlephant]

htwk leipzig

[getinthefuckingrobotshinji]

I am part of a robotics team (bc of course I am) and I made an NGE themed reel for our time at this year's German championship. (Spoiler: we got second place!), also check out our YouTube where I also edit all our videos (link below)

[psycho-linguist]

My team (HTWK Robots) is the Vice World Champion in autonomous RoboFootball!

We underperformed in the final and got totally annihilated for it but hey, water under the bridge. Anyways, check out the final I just finished editing <3

[butterlingimmob]

Leipzig's Bildungseinrichtungen: Wo Lernen zum Erlebnis wird

Leipzig ist eine Stadt, die für ihre Bildungseinrichtungen bekannt ist. Mit einer reichen Geschichte und einer Vielzahl von Schulen, Universitäten und anderen Bildungseinrichtungen bietet Leipzig eine breite Palette von Möglichkeiten für Menschen jeden Alters, um zu lernen und sich weiterzuentwickeln. In diesem Artikel werden wir einen genaueren Blick auf die verschiedenen Bildungseinrichtungen werfen, die Leipzig zu bieten hat, und ihre Bedeutung für die Stadt als Zentrum des Wissens und der Bildung untersuchen.

Leipzig - die Stadt der Bildungseinrichtungen

Leipzig hat eine lange Tradition als Stadt der Bildungseinrichtungen. Schon im 15. Jahrhundert wurde hier die erste Universität gegründet, die Universität Leipzig. Diese Institution hat eine lange Geschichte und ist heute eine der renommiertesten Universitäten Deutschlands. Leipzig war auch ein Zentrum der Aufklärung und des intellektuellen Austauschs im 18. Jahrhundert, was zur Gründung weiterer Bildungseinrichtungen wie der Leipziger Akademie der Wissenschaften führte.

Die Vielfalt der Bildungseinrichtungen in Leipzig

Leipzig bietet eine breite Palette von Bildungseinrichtungen, die verschiedene Bereiche abdecken. Neben der Universität gibt es auch Fachhochschulen wie die Hochschule für Technik, Wirtschaft und Kultur Leipzig, die sich auf praxisorientierte Ausbildung spezialisiert hat. Die Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig hingegen legt den Schwerpunkt auf kreatives Lernen und künstlerischen Ausdruck. Darüber hinaus gibt es auch internationale Studiengänge an der Leipzig Graduate School of Management, die den Studierenden eine globale Perspektive bieten.

Lernen in historischen Gebäuden: Die Universität Leipzig

Die Universität Leipzig ist eine der ältesten und renommiertesten Universitäten Deutschlands. Sie wurde im Jahr 1409 gegründet und hat eine lange Geschichte als Zentrum des Wissens und der Bildung. Die Universität bietet eine breite Palette von Studiengängen in den Geistes- und Naturwissenschaften sowie in den Ingenieur- und Wirtschaftswissenschaften an. Die Studierenden haben Zugang zu modernen Einrichtungen wie Bibliotheken, Laboren und Hörsälen, aber auch zu historischen Gebäuden wie dem Augusteum und dem Paulinum, die einen einzigartigen Lernraum bieten.

Praxisorientierte Ausbildung: Die Hochschule für Technik, Wirtschaft und Kultur Leipzig

Die Hochschule für Technik, Wirtschaft und Kultur Leipzig (HTWK Leipzig) ist eine Fachhochschule, die sich auf praxisorientierte Ausbildung spezialisiert hat. Die Hochschule bietet eine breite Palette von Studiengängen in den Bereichen Technik, Wirtschaft und Kultur an. Die Studierenden haben die Möglichkeit, theoretisches Wissen mit praktischer Erfahrung zu verbinden, indem sie an Projekten mit Unternehmen und Organisationen aus der Region teilnehmen. Dies ermöglicht es ihnen, ihre Fähigkeiten und Kenntnisse in realen Situationen anzuwenden und sich auf den Arbeitsmarkt vorzubereiten.

Kreatives Lernen: Die Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig

Die Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig (HGB Leipzig) ist eine renommierte Kunsthochschule, die sich auf kreatives Lernen und künstlerischen Ausdruck spezialisiert hat. Die Hochschule bietet Studiengänge in den Bereichen Malerei, Grafik, Bildhauerei, Fotografie und Buchkunst an. Die Studierenden haben die Möglichkeit, ihre künstlerischen Fähigkeiten zu entwickeln und ihre eigene kreative Stimme zu finden. Die HGB Leipzig bietet auch eine enge Zusammenarbeit mit anderen kulturellen Einrichtungen in Leipzig, wie zum Beispiel dem Museum der bildenden Künste Leipzig, was den Studierenden die Möglichkeit gibt, ihre Werke einem breiten Publikum zu präsentieren.

Internationale Studiengänge: Die Leipzig Graduate School of Management

Die Leipzig Graduate School of Management (HHL Leipzig) ist eine internationale Business School, die sich auf Managementausbildung spezialisiert hat. Die Schule bietet eine breite Palette von internationalen Studiengängen an, die den Studierenden eine globale Perspektive bieten. Die Studierenden haben die Möglichkeit, an Austauschprogrammen mit Partneruniversitäten auf der ganzen Welt teilzunehmen und internationale Praktika zu absolvieren. Dies ermöglicht es ihnen, interkulturelle Kompetenzen zu entwickeln und sich auf eine Karriere in einer globalisierten Welt vorzubereiten.

Bildung für alle: Die Volkshochschule Leipzig

Die Volkshochschule Leipzig ist eine öffentliche Einrichtung, die Erwachsenenbildung und lebenslanges Lernen fördert. Die Volkshochschule bietet eine breite Palette von Kursen und Workshops in verschiedenen Bereichen an, darunter Sprachen, Kunst und Kultur, Gesundheit und Fitness, Berufliche Weiterbildung und vieles mehr. Die Kurse sind für Menschen jeden Alters und Bildungsstandes zugänglich und bieten eine Möglichkeit, neue Fähigkeiten zu erlernen und sich persönlich weiterzuentwickeln.

Kinder und Jugendliche fördern: Die Musikschule Leipzig

Die Musikschule Leipzig ist eine Einrichtung, die sich auf musikalische Bildung für Kinder und Jugendliche spezialisiert hat. Die Musikschule bietet eine breite Palette von Kursen und Unterricht in verschiedenen Instrumenten, Gesang und Musiktheorie an. Die Schüler haben die Möglichkeit, ihr musikalisches Talent zu entwickeln und ihre Fähigkeiten durch regelmäßige Auftritte und Konzerte zu präsentieren. Die Musikschule Leipzig bietet auch eine enge Zusammenarbeit mit anderen kulturellen Einrichtungen in Leipzig, wie zum Beispiel dem Gewandhausorchester Leipzig, was den Schülern die Möglichkeit gibt, von professionellen Musikern zu lernen und ihre musikalische Karriere voranzutreiben.

Ein Ort für lebenslanges Lernen: Die Stadtbibliothek Leipzig

Die Stadtbibliothek Leipzig ist ein Ort des lebenslangen Lernens und des Zugangs zu Informationen. Die Bibliothek bietet eine breite Palette von Büchern, Zeitschriften, Zeitungen, Filmen und anderen Medien in verschiedenen Sprachen und Themenbereichen an. Die Besucher haben die Möglichkeit, Bücher auszuleihen, an Veranstaltungen teilzunehmen oder einfach nur in einer ruhigen Umgebung zu lesen oder zu studieren. Die Stadtbibliothek Leipzig ist ein wichtiger Ort für die Bildung und den kulturellen Austausch in der Stadt.

Lernen mit Naturerfahrung: Die Umweltbibliothek Leipzig

Die Umweltbibliothek Leipzig ist eine einzigartige Einrichtung, die sich auf Umweltbildung und Nachhaltigkeit spezialisiert hat. Die Bibliothek bietet eine breite Palette von Büchern, Zeitschriften und anderen Medien zu Themen wie Umweltschutz, Klimawandel, erneuerbare Energien und nachhaltige Entwicklung an. Die Besucher haben die Möglichkeit, ihr Wissen über diese Themen zu erweitern und sich für eine nachhaltigere Zukunft zu engagieren. Die Umweltbibliothek Leipzig bietet auch Workshops und Veranstaltungen für Kinder und Erwachsene an, um das Bewusstsein für Umweltfragen zu schärfen und praktische Fähigkeiten im Umgang mit der Natur zu entwickeln.

Virtuelles Lernen: Die Online-Bildungsplattformen in Leipzig

Leipzig bietet auch eine Vielzahl von Online-Bildungsplattformen, die es den Menschen ermöglichen, von zu Hause aus zu lernen. Diese Plattformen bieten eine breite Palette von Kursen und Schulungen in verschiedenen Bereichen an, darunter Sprachen, Informatik, Kunst und Kultur, Gesundheit und Fitness und vieles mehr. Die Teilnehmer haben die Möglichkeit, in ihrem eigenen Tempo zu lernen und ihre Fähigkeiten und Kenntnisse in ihrem eigenen Bereich zu verbessern. Diese Online-Bildungsplattformen sind besonders in Zeiten wie der aktuellen COVID-19-Pandemie von großer Bedeutung, da sie den Menschen ermöglichen, weiterhin zu lernen und sich weiterzuentwickeln, auch wenn sie nicht physisch anwesend sein können.

Fazit

Leipzig ist eine Stadt der Bildungseinrichtungen, die eine breite Palette von Möglichkeiten für Menschen jeden Alters und Bildungsstandes bietet. Von der Universität Leipzig über Fachhochschulen und Kunsthochschulen bis hin zu Volkshochschulen und Musikschulen gibt es eine Vielzahl von Bildungseinrichtungen, die es den Menschen ermöglichen, ihre Fähigkeiten und Kenntnisse zu erweitern und sich persönlich weiterzuentwickeln. Diese Bildungseinrichtungen prägen auch die Kultur und Identität der Stadt Leipzig und machen sie zu einem Zentrum des Wissens und der Bildung.

Unser Mitglied aus Leipzig: Immobilienmakler Leipzig - Butterling Immobilien

Butterling Immobilien in Leipzig bietet umfassende Dienstleistungen im Bereich Immobilien an. Das erfahrene Team unterstützt Sie beim Kauf, Verkauf und der Vermietung von Immobilien mit maßgeschneiderten Lösungen. Durch persönliche Beratung und einen hohen Qualitätsanspruch streben sie danach, den An- und Verkaufsprozess so reibungslos und effizient wie möglich zu gestalten. Butterling Immobilien zeichnet sich durch Seriosität, Zuverlässigkeit und Engagement aus, um Ihren Immobilientraum zu verwirklichen.

Immobilien Leipzig | Butterling Immobilien 

Hommelweg 6, D-04316 Leipzig

Tel: 0341 8799733 

E-Mail:  info@butterling-immobilien.de 

Internet: https://www.butterling-immobilien.de

[autisticmight]

bnha + "i don't want to be alone right now" :3c

au of the first/last chapter of hear the world’s keening. if you’ve been following me for more than a month, you know what that entails. if you haven’t, then. cw for suicide

Izuku had answered the call as soon as it had flashed up on his phone. It was one of the most comforting Caller ID pictures he had, of All Might smiling gently with the sunset behind him, but now, all that Izuku can see is a hand pointing towards him, and all he can hear is a voice that tells him you’re next.

His phone’s speaker is pressed against his ear before he can fully wake up, with the summer sun leaking through the cracks in his curtains illuminating his room.

“All Might?” he asks, trying not to let his exhaustion drag down his voice.

“Oh.” By the sound of it, he hasn’t fooled All Might. His hero says, “Did I wake you up, my boy? I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise, All Might!” he exclaims. “I usually wake up at around this time. I need to keep myself in top shape to handle One For All!”

A huff of air makes Izuku’s phone speaker crackle. “Of course you do, my boy. I’m… I’m sorry for disturbing you. I should hang up now.”

Izuku experiences a sensation that is roughly equivalent to being dropped into a lake filled with villains with no warning. It’s cold, sudden, all-encompassing, and Izuku’s mind starts to whirr fast enough to process information it doesn’t yet have.

“No!” he exclaims as the feeling hits. He swings his legs out of bed and starts to open drawers to cleaner clothes. Then he splutters, because he can’t talk back to All Might! “I mean, if you have something better to do, then yeah, but I like talking to you.”

Still, there’s something in Izuku’s mind, and it sounds like the echoes of his regrets about work experience. About not pushing further with Iida; about not helping him before it was too late. He changes his pants, and stumbles his way into a pair of shorts he left on the floor last night.

Though his cheeks flush scarlet, Izuku stutters out, “You always make me so happy. I want to do whatever I can to make you feel the same. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s another sound; a hitching of breath. All Might makes a quiet sound, like he’s trying to speak, but the noise is uncertain and malformed, so Izuku can’t make it out. Through the speaker, he hears All Might take another breath.

“I don’t want to…”

His voice cracks on that last word, trailing off into a telltale gulp of blood.

“Young Midoriya, I’m so sorry,” he says, softly enough that Izuku has to press his phone right against his ear to make out the words. “I shouldn’t have called. I shouldn’t have placed this burden on you.”

Izuku shakes his head, as if All Might could possibly see it from over the phone line. “All Might, you’re never a burden. You have to know that i’d do anything for you, right?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, maybe, or it could be the best thing to say in that moment, because all that All Might does is let out a clear, choked sob.

With quick motions and a lot of smart moves, if Izuku does say so himself, he shrugs out of his nightshirt and into a t-shirt. He shrugs on his short-sleeved parka, and listens to All Might’s hollow voice.

“That’s the problem, my boy,” he says, in words that barely connect. “Izuku, my boy, you shouldn’t do anything for me. I’m… I’m going to disappoint you. I’m going to make you sad, and nothing else. I’m sorry, Izuku. I’m sorry.”

Those words spark a trigger in him; one that has been there for over a decade, now. All Might and I’m sorry and that sinking sense of despair.

“Where are you, All Might?” he asks, hoping that his voice is firmer than he feels.

“No…”

And that whisper seems to be something that All Might isn’t even aware that he’s saying. It’s soft, intoned, and filled with the anger that Izuku remembers from the USJ fight. Only, there’s no enemy for the anger to be directed at, and Izuku would know if it was meant for him, because All Might would make that clear.

All Might lets out a laugh that sounds more like a wheeze of pain. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His quivering words burst into a mantra, and Izuku opens his door, searching for his sneakers. He grabs a bottle of water and a handful of protein bars, writes a quick note to his mother - Gone out. Emergency. Don’t worry. I’ll be home. - and yanks his tied-up trainers onto his feet.

“Please, All Might, tell me where you are, and I swear that I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he says, interrupting the babbling apologies.

All Might lets out a long, whining note through the phone. It hurts to hear, but Izuku keeps listening as he walks out of the door of his apartment and hurries down the stairs.

“All Might, I need to know,” he says, trying to push the desperation through those words without letting it become a mess of unintelligible syllables.

“Forest. Training,” he chokes out. “The clearing.”

There. Izuku knows that place. When he had first started training there, it was an hour’s jog from Dagobah Beach. Now, he thinks that he can make it from home in less than half of that time.

“Wait for me,” says Izuku. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He stretches his muscles out, keeps the phone against his ear, and begins to run.

He can’t lose himself in his footsteps, no matter how hard he tries. He still counts every thud of his feet against the ground, even if he keeps forgetting what number he’s on, and having to pick one at random to start from again. Instead, he can hear All Might sniffling and hiccuping on the phone, and the occasional broken apology. Each one spurs him to run faster, until he’s climbing over a fence and stumbling through the underbrush, until he finds his way to a semi-familiar path.

He runs, and he runs. A deer flashes across his vision, and birds sing in the trees above him, but it doesn’t matter, because Izuku is finding; has found-

In the very tall tree that Izuku had climbed with All Might’s help, a noose hangs. There is a stool underneath it, meant for someone to step on and kick out.

At the bottom of the tree, babbling nonsense into his phone, is All Might.

Izuku hangs up and, in a flash like a bolt, he flings his arms around All Might’s thin torso.

“What the hell?” he gasps, his eyes burning. “All Might, what the hell?”

“I don’t want to be alive.”

The words are almost muffled against Izuku’s hair, as All Might clings to the back of his parka.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, seeing as your my fan and all. I just wanted to talk to you, one last time.” All Might snorts, and it’s not a pleasant or humorous sound. “I should’ve known it would make me chicken out. I just…”

Izuku waits, pressing himself against All Might’s arrhythmic heartbeat. He’s warm. He’s alive, still.

A hand makes its way into Izuku’s hair, holding on like a lifeline. All Might’s voice is subdued, but still, Izuku is thankful that he can hear it at all.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” he says. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Izuku replies, as gentle as his mother. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’m here.”

[scienceviz]

Ambiguity in Utopian XR-Games. Basic Principles for the Design of Virtual Worlds . Preprint Now Online

Ambiguity in Utopian XR-Games. Basic Principles for the Design of Virtual Worlds . Preprint Now Online

Salvador Dalí Museum (2016). Travel Inside and Beyond the Art: Dreams of Dalí in Virtual Reality,Salvador Dalí Museum, Inc (The Dalí), St. Petersburg, Florida, USA. Explore a media ontology of XR-Games and discover how to design ambiguity in virtual worlds: “Ambiguity in Utopian XR-Games. Basic Principles for the Design of Virtual Worlds”. A preprint of this article is now available at SSOAR and…

[piesi-blog1]

It's friday 👍😜😍 #leipzig #friday #entspannung #freizeit #htwk #studium #studentin #study #studentslife #winelover #weekend #hochdiehändewochende #blackandwhite #projekt #projekttreffen #projekmanagement #projektleitung #fachwörterbuch #druck #und #medien Ich muss nicht ein bisschen was tun! Sonnige Herbstgrűße 😘 (hier: HTWK Leipzig)

[trevorcollins-appreciation-squad]

Src.

Twitter: @AchievementHunt 

Tweet: (x)

[localqueerdad]

how this world keeps spinning - chapter 7

chapter title: catch me i’m falling.

pairing: jeremy/trevor word count: 4141 a/n: *slides in months late with a smoothie and throws you this trash* if you’re still reading this just know that i love you because god have i lost faith in my writing ability. thanks, depression! everyone should go tell jack aka jackbaettillo on tumblr that they’re the best person ever because i probably would have lost my mind writing this chapter if it wasn’t for them. i have no clue when i’m gonna be able to finish this because university is so draining (i got in btw!! yay!!) and my mental health is very fragile but i’m trying!!

[read on ao3]

Trevor has been dealing with a migraine from hell for approximately twenty-six hours and counting.

Part of the pain could be attributed to the fact that he hadn’t been drinking enough water. Or eating, really. He’s been too busy being caught up in this whirlwind of chaos to deal with basic needs. There was a goal that he had to reach. He could drink later.

The other contributor was, of course, the Corpirate and his collection of goons. That, and the way he was currently being tormented by some guy named Stevens who, for whatever reason, held a very big grudge against him.

All Trevor wanted was to sit down and drink the strongest liquor he could get his hands on to try and get Jeremy’s betrayed expression out of his head, but nope. The second he sat down on some broken crate in the corner of the warehouse where they were currently situated, this asshole storms over.

Stevens was a small guy. Blond, with a nose that had obviously been broken in the past and a missing tooth that was visible whenever he sneered. Which was often. His voice was fairly high pitched, which was why Trevor began to find it incredibly funny that he was being yelled at by this short guy who sounded like a budget chew toy.

“Something fucking funny to you, pal?” Stevens yells, balling his fists at his side and puffing out his chest. His raised voice draws the attention of everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Trevor sighs as he pushes himself up to his feet.

He puts his left hand in his pocket and looks the smaller man over once, scoffing. “Look, dude, I’m not in the mood for a fight.”

This only appears to rile Stevens up further, as well as attracting them a small crowd.

“Why?” He growls, practically standing on his tiptoes to make himself appear taller. “You afraid?”

“Of a balding wannabe Chicken Little look-a-like? Not particularly.”

This draws some snickers from the crowd, and Trevor turns to walk away from the whole thing when suddenly Stevens grabs his shoulder, spins him around, and punches him in the face. He reels back, dazed from the blooming pain in his cheek, and stares at Stevens incredulously. The guy shakes out his fist, clearly hurt from punching bone. Fucking amateur.

“You want a fight?” Trevor snarls, rubbing his arm against his cheek and getting into a better stance. “I’ll give you a damn fight.”

With that, he curls his fists, grits his teeth and lashes out with one fist toward Stevens’ stomach. It lands and he doubles over with a gasp. Trevor upper cuts his chin, sending the smaller man spinning backwards to land flat on his ass.

Stevens scrambles back to his feet, cringing away from the crowd which has started to heckle and cheer. They’re making a lot of noise. Trevor finds that he doesn’t particularly care.

Stevens gets Trevor with a punch to the nose, but he’s tucked his thumb into his fist and a clear crack resounds through the air. He gasps in pain, and Trevor seizes the opportunity to grab him by his hair – although there wasn’t much of it, there was enough that he could get a good grip – and kicks his knees out from under him.

He falls, but pulls Trevor down with him, and they start rolling and punching. One moment he has Stevens pinned down, whacking him in the face with one hand and grabbing the front of his jacket with the other. The next, Stevens has Trevor flipped and is raining hell down upon him. Trevor bucks his hips up, tackling Stevens so that they’re back in their original position.

They’re both bloody at this point; Stevens’ nose is ruined, blood gushing from it, as well as a badly split lip and bruises already blossoming across his cheek. Trevor knows that his face is in a similar state– he can feel a growing black eye and when he brushes his sleeve against his nose, it comes away bloody.

Dammit. He really liked this hoodie.

Trevor lands another hit, and then another, and then another. Everything goes black. It feels like only a second later when a pair of strong arms tear Trevor away from Stevens. Trevor fights against whoever is pulling him to his feet, cursing and yelling, but the dude is way too muscly. Trevor hates super muscly people.

He kicks as the man pulls him in one direction. Toward the Corpirate’s ‘office’. He allows his body to go limp, dragging his feet along the concrete floor. The man carrying him grunts and throws him onto the ground when they reach the door of the saddest excuse for an office that has ever existed.

Since the warehouse had been abandoned for a while, all it had previously contained was a few dozen empty crates and its fair share of spider webs. The Corpirate had demanded his goons build him an office so that he could work in peace, and the result was two improvised walls made of wooden crates stacked up in the corner of the building. It’s almost as ugly as the Corpirate himself.

The door is a poorly attached curtain, which has an ugly pattern adorned onto it that reminds Trevor of whisky and dirty motel rooms. He hates it. It’s heavy to push out of the way and Trevor finds himself having to practically shoulder his way through.

The Corpirate is lounging in a plush armchair, feet resting on top of an oversized desk next to an expensive looking laptop. It’s a sparse space with an intimidating chill in the air that sends shivers down Trevor’s spine. There is no chair in front of the desk, so he finds himself standing before the Corpirate and fixating his gaze on the ground beneath his feet.

No one speaks for a minute or two. The silence is ghostly and Trevor can hear muffled voices from outside. He wonders if he should care if Stevens is still breathing. He doesn’t.

“I can’t figure you out for the life of me.” The Corpirate’s voice is gritty, brows furrowed in displeasure as he stares Trevor down. “First you let those asshole brats get away, and now this? It seems like you want to end up dead in a ditch.”

Better than being here, he thinks bitterly. He knows better than to say it. Silence is the best option here.

The Corpirate swings his feet down and sits forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “You gave me some bullshit reason why you couldn’t get those Fakes earlier. What are you hiding, boy?”

Trevor swallows the lump forming in his throat, fighting to keep his knees from shaking. “Nothing. I told you the truth,” he breathes steadily. “They heard us pulling up and ran for it. We were too slow. It was a mistake.”

“I don’t have time for mistakes.” The Corpirate slams his hands down on top of the oak and pushes himself up out of his chair so that he can meet Trevor’s eyes. Trevor doesn’t look away. “You have no idea what’s at stake here, you fool. My entire reputation, my livelihood, everything that I have spent so long building!”

He’s screaming at this point, finger raised and jabbing at the air, face red with rage and Trevor feels nothing.

“You did this. You ruined everything. I ought to kill you right now, you little rat- “

“I can still help you.”

The Corpirate stops, his arm falling to his side as he retakes his seat. Trevor carries on.

“I know all of the Fakes secrets. I can get you the information you need to get what you want. You were right. They don’t deserve to have what should be yours.”

Something deep inside of Trevor breaks when those words spill from his lips. A piece of Jeremy, perhaps. He is overwhelmed by the sudden knowledge that it’s too late for him. That he will most likely never see Jeremy again. Maybe that’s for the best. The last time he’d seen Jeremy, he had looked at Trevor like he hadn't recognised him. Like he was a monster. The shock and heartbreak that had blanketed his face was always present in his mind whenever Trevor closed his eyes.

If he chose to be the person Jeremy believed he was (the soft, kind hearted Trevor who would never hurt anyone on purpose), Trevor wouldn’t last a day here. He had to kill that side of him; for now, at least. After all of this is over, if he makes it out alive, he’ll try and be that person again. But he has to adapt to the situation at hand, and fast.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the Corpirate humming. The sight of an ugly, poisonous smile creeping across his hideous face. Trevor tries to hide how he shudders at that smile.

“Alright,” the Corpirate finally says, looking Trevor up and down appreciatively. “You would be a very useful asset. But you listen to me, boy. One step out of line,” he pauses, leaning forward in his chair, “and you’re dead. Got it?”

Trevor swallows. “Got it.”

A part of Trevor switches off the second he says those words. Or dies. He doesn’t really know. He listens as the Corpirate reveals his plan to take the Fakes down, to ruin them and destroy everything they’ve built. To take his empire back. It’s a good plan. Well thought out – mostly. There were a few holes in it that Trevor knew he could exploit.

What was most disconcerting was the revelation that there could possibly be a mole inside the Fakes. Or, if not a mole, a bug in the apartment. Trevor wouldn’t put it past the Corpirate to play dirty.

Trevor could play just as dirty.

When the Corpirate asked him what he could do, Trevor said explosives. He had had some previous experience with them and besides, Michael had taught him a fair bit before they had carried out their heist some time ago.

Shit. He couldn’t really remember how long ago that heist was. Too much had happened since then. It felt like there was a deep, unfillable gap in his chest, a numbness spreading throughout his nerves. He missed them. He missed them like hell. And he had never hurt this much before.

He couldn’t afford to go right there right now. There was a plot to be hatched.

The Corpirate talks for what feels like forever; about revenge and weapon deliveries and all sorts of other bullshit. It’s impressive, really. The only other person Trevor knows that could even talk for this long is Michael –

No. He told himself he wouldn’t think about them. There was no time for it.

Thinking about Michael would lead to wondering what stupid thing Gavin had done today, what novel Geoff was currently reading. About Ryan sharpening his knives intimidatingly while Jack sang off key in the kitchen. And then there was Jeremy. Always Jeremy. Everything in Trevor’s life seemed to start and end with Jeremy.

He doesn’t know how to unlearn Jeremy’s touch, unhear the sound of his voice, his laughter. The curve of his smile or how he had to tilt his head up to meet Trevor’s eyes. He wanted to burn the memories out, scrub at his skin until it is red and raw and bloody. But even that couldn’t save him now.

And to think that he hadn’t even recognised the feeling of falling until it was too late.

-

Jeremy is seriously considering lying face down on the hallway carpet and dying.

After Ryan had driven him and Gavin home, they had been met with a stony silence from the second they stepped into the apartment. Jack was sitting on the couch, her shoulders tensed and her arms crossed. She hadn’t looked at them.

“Michael got back fine. He wouldn’t say a word to me, but I saw him talking to Geoff. He’s not happy.”

Jack was frowning in the way she only did when something had seriously pissed her off. It was never a good thing to be on the receiving end of her fury. She may be patient and kind, but she’d always had a very low tolerance for bullshit.

Which was why she would be angry at him for a long time; he couldn’t tell her the truth, and she would be able to deduce that he was lying. Jack was incredibly smart – of course she was, she planned most of their heists. She was integral to the crew because of her skillsets, but she was also Jeremy’s friend. Maybe she would realise that he was lying by the way he would avoid her keen gaze or the way the corner of his lips turned down. Whatever the giveaway was, it wasn’t going to end well for him.

He lied to her anyway.

And that’s what brought him to where he is now. Standing outside Geoff’s door at one in the afternoon sharp. He had gone to bed earlier that day, not wanting to have to look at the disappointment on Jack’s face, Ryan’s narrowed eyes or Gavin’s guilty smile.

But now he has to face the consequences. He really is not looking forward to it.

Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door once before letting his hand fall to his side. A moment passes before he hears a gruff voice on the other side tell him to come in.

His hands are shaking. Why are they shaking? None of this is his fault, Trevor had been the one to insist upon the stupid idea to take the Corpirate down for good. Stupid, self-sacrificing Trevor. Oh, how Jeremy hates how much he loves him.

Jeremy opens the door, making a conscious effort to control his breathing. He has no idea what he is going to say.

Geoff’s room is a mess. It strikes a chord within Jeremy, the wrongness of it setting off every alarm bell he has. What is usually a decently organised space now looks as if a miniature tornado had run rampant. Books are half open on the ground, carelessly shoved into every nook and cranny, and piled precariously one on top of another. Geoff loves his books. That’s the first red flag.

The second is in the form of the papers strewn haphazardly over Geoff’s desk. They cover nearly every square inch of space and Jeremy can barely read what is written on them. Some of them are written in what is clearly Geoff’s handwriting; the distinctively large scrawl and spidery shaped letters unmistakably his. Others are typed with bold titles and have been annotated vigorously in red ink. His laptop lies underneath a particularly large clump of papers, closed.

The third and final red flag is Geoff himself. The way his shoulders are slumped in defeat, how he leans back in his chair and sighs when Jeremy enters. The lines on his forehead seem to be more pronounced than ever and he looks at Jeremy as if he barely recognises who he is. His jaw is clenched.

Three strikes, and he’s out.

“Jeremy,” Geoff says, folding his hands on the desk, “sit down.”

He does so, praying that the ground beneath his chair would somehow open up and swallow him whole. It doesn’t. Bummer.

Geoff rubs a hand over his face and reaches under his desk, grabbing a mug that must have been placed on the floor. He takes a sip, carefully scrutinising Jeremy.

Jeremy breaks the silence by, as usual, saying something completely inappropriate for the situation at hand.

“Is that whiskey or rum?”

“Don’t be insensitive. I stopped drinking a few weeks back.” Geoff sets the mug down on top of some papers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh shit, I didn’t – how did I not know this?” Jeremy feels his cheeks go red with embarrassment, mentally scolding himself for already making things awkward.

“I haven’t exactly been hiding it. I guess you were just busy with other things.”

That makes him feel like shit. How he had not only missed something so important – and it was, because alcohol was so fucking hard to kick – but how it had really helped Geoff. He looks better. Lighter. Sure, he was always going to be stressed out to hell and back, but he appears healthier than Jeremy has ever seen him.

And he had missed all of that because he was too caught up in his own little world. Jeremy had never thought of himself as a selfish person until now, but in this moment, he is the scum of the earth.

“I’m sorry, Geoff,” he breathes, rubbing his sweaty hands on his thighs. “But hey, that’s good!”

Geoff allows himself a tiny smile directed at his own hands. “It is.” His smile fades as he looks back up at Jeremy. “That’s not what we’re here to talk about, though.”

Jeremy doesn’t say anything. He isn’t sure if there is anything he could possibly say that would make a difference now.

“You need to tell me exactly what Trevor has done. You need to tell me what happened last night that was so bad Michael came back shaking and refusing to speak to anyone. Why you’ve barely left your room since Trevor left.” He takes a breath, shaking his head. “I need to know everything, Jeremy. Otherwise I can’t do anything to help you.”

He’s speechless. Huh. On a typical day, Jeremy would never run out of things to say. He always had a response lined up, a new idea already formed, his thoughts bouncing around at a rapid pace in his mind. But this isn’t a typical day, and he is left clueless and floundering in the coldness of the room’s atmosphere.

There are no words to describe the choice Trevor made. To explain why – Jeremy doesn’t even know why. Or rather, he does. He just doesn’t understand it. But Geoff is waiting, like a fuse ready to be lit, and Jeremy cannot lose his family as well. He’d rather die.

Gazing at a spot on the floor, he opens his mouth before promptly shutting it again. Why is it so hard for him to do this? He has to tell Geoff. He has no other choice. It’s not breaking his promise – it’s stopping Geoff, his boss, from exploding. “I don’t know how to – it’s a lot, Geoff.”

Geoff stares at him, regarding him analytically. “Good thing I have a lot of time, then.”

That’s when Jeremy starts crying.

What begins as a single tear escaping the corner of his eye quickly turns into a downpour. He slaps a hand over his mouth and screws his eyes shut, cursing himself for breaking down like this. Trying to keep the sobs in proves to be futile – it is a violent, loud noise which erupts from him. His body is trembling, his other hand gripping his shirt and he leans forward in an effort to stop the tears.

Anger rises in him. He’s pathetic. Crying in his boss’s office because of his – because of Trevor. Sure, this had been a long time coming, considering everything he had bottled up inside, but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t furious at himself for losing control.

In the middle of his impromptu pity party, he looks up to find Geoff suddenly kneeling in front of him. His eyes are tight and worried, his mouth curled down in a frown as he gently places a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Geoff says softly, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”

Jeremy shatters.

Geoff pulls Jeremy in for a hug, shushing him tenderly and rubbing small circles into his back as he sobs on Geoff’s shoulder. It feels like he is being ripped to shreds from the inside out, the fabric of his lungs tearing apart at the seams. Everything is too much. And he can’t do this alone anymore.

Pulling back from Geoff’s embrace and avoiding his gaze, Jeremy tells him everything. The whole story. The words spill from him, and he tells him about how he had started to care about Trevor, how scared he had been that day Michael had been injured but he had thought it was all over then. How terrified he was when Murphy’s dead body had appeared outside their apartment, his concern for Trevor, their near kiss.

That, after the heist had gone wrong and he had been injured, Trevor had started growing distant and Jeremy had known what he was about to do. He had known and he hadn’t done anything about it because he didn’t want to acknowledge that it was real. Because maybe, if he ignored it and was good enough for once in his life, that Trevor wouldn’t make that choice. That Trevor would stay. But he didn’t.

Whilst Jeremy talks through his tears, Geoff doesn’t say a word. He just observes, calmly, the lines around his eyes tight. He listens as Jeremy tells him how much he blames himself, how he hates himself for not being able to stop Trevor from leaving and that’s when Geoff holds up a hand to stop him.

“Okay, I know I need to be listening and I am,” he pauses, making direct eye contact with Jeremy, “but you need to know that isn’t true. None of this is your fault.”

Jeremy tries to disagree, but Geoff waves his hand in dismissal. “It isn’t, Jeremy. Trevor made his own decisions. He’s responsible for that. Not you.”

Logically, Jeremy is aware that Geoff is right. And fundamentally, Jeremy is a logical person. It’s that tiny part of his brain though, the bit that screams doubt and blame and shame. It’s roaring in his head and he cannot quiet its voice. Geoff is there, at least, and Jeremy finds some solace in him. He nods, and Geoff seems to deflate.

“Alright,” Geoff pushes himself off the ground and leans back against his desk. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”

“What – what do you mean?” Jeremy’s voice is cracked and breathy, and he finds himself grimacing at the sound of it.

“Did he say how long his plan was going to take?”

“No. He just said he had to do it himself. He – he knows where all the warehouses are and everything. Said it would be easier to bring it down from the inside and that we shouldn't get involved.”

Geoff sighs, rubbing his chin. “That sounds like Trevor.” He takes a moment to parse the new information over, his eyes going slightly unfocused. “Here’s the deal. We let this whole thing play out – “

“Wait, what? That’s way too dangerous – “

“Don’t interrupt me.” Geoff glares at Jeremy who hastily shuts up. “Right. We let Trevor’s plan play out. Guessing on how predictable the Corpirate is, he’s probably going to target our next heist. Which is why we need to be careful. The second any of the crew are put in harm’s way, that’s when I’ll act. And before you say anything, Trevor is a part of the crew. But he decided to go off and attempt this on his own. He can deal with the consequences of it.”

“That’s fair.”

And it was. Jeremy got it. That didn’t make it any easier. He stands, nodding at Geoff and offering him a small smile, which he returns. His head aches as he walks away, stopping short when Geoff clears his throat.

“Be careful, Jeremy.”

It sounds like a plea. Jeremy glances over his shoulder and Geoff doesn’t meet his eyes. He says, “I’ll try, Geoff. Thanks.”

He thinks about consequences as he shuts the door behind him and makes his way to his room. Maybe his punishment for his role in all of this was how he felt right now, this guilt slowly eating away at him.

Michael, who had finally left his suite for the living room, is sitting next to Jack on the couch. Their eyes meet for a moment, before Michael snarls and rips his gaze away. Jeremy hastens his steps.

Gavin is nowhere to be found, which means that he’s either up at the roof garden, locked in his room, or has gone out to do something stupid. Considering that Jack would murder Gavin if he went out without telling anyone, especially right now, it had to be one of the first two options.

Jeremy couldn’t bear to go to the roof garden. Not right now. And besides, Gavin probably needed some time to himself. It was Jeremy’s fault that Michael wouldn’t talk to him. Jeremy caused the Golden Boy to threaten his best friend. That would take some time to heal.

He doesn’t think they have much time.

[leerstand-leipzig-luxus]

Immer wieder Hypezig

Gemeinsam mit Prof. Ronald Scherzer-Heidenberger (Regionalplanung und Städtebau, HTWK) diskutieren wir, wie man mit dem aktuellen Bevölkerungszuwachs in Leipzig umgehen soll. Wie kann man günstigen Wohnraum für alle erhalten? Leipzig ist seit einigen Jahren die am schnellsten wachsende Großstadt in Deutschland. Es ist nicht die erste enorme Wachstumsphase die Leipzig durchmacht, es ist ein wiederkehrendes Phänomen - Leipzig hatte schonmal mehr als 750.000 Einwohner*innen. Prof. Ronald Scherzer-Heidenberger gibt uns einen Einblick in die vergangenen Wachstumsphasen, erklärt wie sie die Stadt geprägt haben und was wir daraus lernen können. Welche Leitmotive, Bauweisen und städtebaulichen Ziele gab es und welche bieten sich an, um die anstehenden Herausforderungen zu bewältigen?

Veranstalterin: Juso-Hochschulgruppe Wann: 5. April 2017, 19.00 - 21.00 Uhr Wo: Campus Augustusplatz, Institutsgebäude der wirtschaftswissenschaftlichen Fakultät der Uni Leipzig, SR 7 (I131)

[emergency-broadcast-archive]

the final game will be htwk vs b-human and htwk will win

[psycho-linguist]

RoboFootball Standard Platform League - GORE 2023 Final - HTWK Robots vs. B-Human

[beatasticband]

#photography #uk #england #cemetery #graveyard https://www.instagram.com/p/BugWPG-hTWk/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=qbzj8gdbvaq6

[autisticmight]

just had someone shit on htwk for reasons that i explain as common flaws of my writing, i.e. i feel the need to process the same emotions over and over and it’s primarily a vent