#new year new me oder so

[die-ringeltaube]

der beginn einer neuen ära!

tschüss willex-molina du warst ein sehr treuer wegbegleiter aber jetzt ist die zeit der ringeltaube gekommen🫡

[billluver0124]

"middle school shenanigans!"

synopsis : tom goes through his 'first love' experience with y/n! WARNINGS: there is none, its a fluff story !!

authors note: once again, @rottinglilys helped me with the plot of the story ! i hope you guy enjoy my lovies<3

it all started back last year in grade 7, tom had a MASSIVE crush on y/n. he would always catch himself staring at her in classes because they had most classes together.

he always adored how she looked; her hair, her eyes, her bubbly personality, her willingness to be kind towards those who dont deserve it. but most of all...her smile. toms heart used to explode like fireworks whenever he was blessed to see her smiled.

then on the day before spring break started, tom slipped her a note in her locker.

"Hey, ich bin in dich verknallt. Magst du mich auch?

ja oder nein ?-t.k"

y/n was so confused when she got the note. she didn't know what 't.k' stood for, until the very last hour of school. when tom decided to man up and go up to her.

"y/n!" he yelled, jogging up to her to catch her attention. she turns around "oh hi tom!" she said, smiling. tom almost fell to his knees right then and there, but no! he needed to tell her how she felt! "did you get my note?" tom asked, his hand wrapped around the back of his neck. then it hit y/n straight in the face, t.k = tom kaulitz, how could i be so fucking stupid? she thought to herself. "o-oh uh yea!" she answered nervously. "c-can i see it?" tom asked, y/n nervously giving it back. he opens it to see that it wasnt answered "you didnt answer it, do you not like me back?" tom felt his heart sting a little but it was soon reassured. "n-no i do like you, i like you a-a lot!..." y/n blurted out "i just didnt know what 't.k' meant at first until now..." tom chuckled, "what did you think it meant?" "i-i dont know...t-turkey kabob?" she joked, causing them to both laugh. after a moment of silence, tom speaks "so, are you my girlfriend now?" tom asked, not knowing where to go from here. y/n nods, giving him a hug. tom feels his heart flutter at the feeling of y/n in his arms. "you wanna hangout this weekend? ill ask my mom if its okay" she asked, tom nods "yea for sure! ill see you then"

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

it was now grade 8, tom and y/n have been dating for a year! their families have grown fond of each other and they hangout at each others house after school most of the week and sometimes on weekends...

with the condition that the door must stay open of course...

today they were at toms house, tom was showing her a song he was playing some guitar for her and she just peacefully watched. y/n always admired toms talent on guitar, she knew he was gonna make it big one day.

after a little while, he puts the guitar away and pats a spot next to him "wanna cuddle liebe?" he asked, she smiles and lays next to him. he pulls her into his embrace, her pretty head rests upon his chest as he strokes her hair.

as tom stroked her hair, y/n found herself staring at a particular feature on his face, his lips. the pretty pink color, the way they curved into a smile whenever he was happy, and oh my god his lip piercing...y/ns never kissed anyone before, but she wanted to kiss him so bad. "is something wrong?" tom asked, slightly nervous. "nothing its just..." y/n took a breath before she finished her question "h-have you ever kissed anyone?" tom sighed "uhm, yeah..my babysitter when i was like..9" "oh.." "why? have you ever kissed anyone schatz?" tom asked, y/n looks down; embarassed "n-no, i havent.."

then almost immediately, tom got an idea in his little brain>.<

"do you want to have your first kiss?" "well, yeah every girl wants to have their first kiss" y/n joked "no schatzi..." tom chuckled "i mean do you want to have it...with me?" y/n hesitates for a moment, nervous of if shes a good kisser or not. shes really new to this! what if shes a bad kisser? what if she goes too far? but it couldnt be that bad right? its just a kiss for christs sake!

"yeah..is that okay tommy?" "its more than okay with me schatzi.." tom sat up, scooting closer to her "you ready?" he asked...

y/n nods, shakily moving her face closer to him. tom places a hand on her cheek then boom! their lips were sealed together! (aww so cute! >.<) y/n places a hand on his shoulder, deepening the kiss. then they let go because if they kissed any longer they would suffocate!

"woah.." y/n mumbled, tom chuckling at her reaction "did you like it?" "yeah i did" y/n said, softly smiling... "then we should kiss more often then hm?" tom said, smirking at his girlfriend.

[nayruwu]

hi guys! it's me again on my way to throw some salt because i'm starting to believe guren belongs in a retirement home to be treated for early onset dementia.

so i'm reading the chapter, and it's all fine and good, i love it, go krul, go ferid, whatever. and then even guren shows up! i was waiting for that. but then i see this

and it's like, uh, yeah, weird thing to say considering she literally is the person that caused "everyone" to die for her own goals, but this isn't a new thing. he's said some shit like "if i had just let myself die along shinya, mahiru and the others" before, and it was odd then, it's odd now. anyway, then comes this

and i'm like?? hello???? this is a hundred times worse than "dying together with everyone", because it takes his friends out of the equation entirely and gives the image of someone who doesn't even care if they left them behind, who just wants to go and die together with their murderer. which does not fit the image i have of guren at all.

you may know that this notion itself is also not new, since he did try to die with mahiru by throwing himself and her out of a window in catastrophe (hence the "back then"). the thing is, she had not killed his friends at that point. to him she was just a broken girl and if he could end her suffering by dying alongside her, his saviour complex ass would have done it. he also hadn't yet come to the realisation of how much he loved and needed his friends. but to say this now??? i feel personally offended on behalf of guren squad, lol. imagine if he fucking died and left them to spend their last 2 years alive wondering about all the lies and the hurt, having no way of knowing their end is near, probably blaming themselves for not being able to help him even though he brought it upon himself willingly. it just makes me want to. urgh. it's horrible, and it makes no sense.

and yeah, i'm not going to pretend that i'm not also offended because of this.

did this just mean nothing?? this shit was so emotional, the original scene, the fact that he still remembers exactly what shinya told him eight years ago, for THIS? for him to say the same exact thing TO THE PERSON WHO KILLED HIM? sach mal hast du lack gesoffen oder was??

the dissonance between him shedding all those tears over his friends' deaths and then acting this way towards mahiru, i just. i do not get it.

and like, i hear the people saying that he's just pretending, he's only staying so calm because he has his own plan, he's going to betray mahiru, and i want to believe that, i really do. it' the only thing that would make sense. but as awesome and fitting of a plot twist as that would be, i will not set myself up for further disappointment and believe it.

maybe we're just doomed to watch guren and mahiru get married and have 5 kids that they name in honour of his dead friends, who knows.

salt over

[thekatebridgerton]

Hot take, but I genuinely believe that Eloise's new alliance with Cressida gonna be great for her and not only in a way of understanding how much she misses and values Pen, no matter what came between them... But also, cause to make Eloise tolerate Cressida's company they gonna humanize her. Just a little bit, we don't need a full redemption arc. Maybe tackle the family climate Cressida gown up in, to find the roots of mean girl persona. In oder to hung out in new company, Eloise will have to understand. And bear with me: being around other girls will help Eloise mature through her "not like the other girls" phase. She needs to explore more the girly girls world, without looking down upon it and this year without Pen, tring to fit in with "girly girls" is her only option to have some social life outside the family. She's Cady and Cressida is her Regina and maybe in the end it's gonna be humbling experience for both of them.

Or maybe I'm delulu and it's just bad decisions arc for El, lol.

I want this so badly, I like to think that El goes into so much overcorrection after being #betrayed that she joins the mean girl group and gets a crash course in the world of female aggression. But like the true jungle that's female aggressiveness, the kind of vindictive backstabbing, rumor spreading, reputation ruining that Pen does secretly but Cressida does outright in people's faces and with worse intentions.

But also, they all have to survive somehow and this is how they were taught, this is what Cressida's mom thinks is the way the world works. And the only way Cressida knows to relate to people.

I'm not saying that I want Cressida to have a draco Malfoy style redemption but maybe have Eloise knock her down a peg or two in the process of befriending her. All While Eloise realizes that Penelope in the end was truly trying to be a good friend and that she deserves a second chance

But maybe I'm delulu too. I just want to see where they take Eloise in s3. Is whe going on the road towards maturity and growth? Or the road where everything gets incredibly worse before it gets better?

I really want to know

[chevvy-yates]

CLUB OWNER

Falco ‘Garnet’ Ritter is the owner of the place he named ‘HELL BUNKER’, a location that hosts diverse technoise parties and concerts (but also some other music genres). He’s also the inventor of Chrome Chamber Rave as well as the radio station ‘109.6 HELL BUNKER.FM’.

He has earned himself quite a high cred and respect in the Night City party business as his location and main event is unique compared to other technoise events in the city. His vision simply was to bring European technoise (back) to the NUSA, especially hard tech from his home country Germany. He wants people of Night City to experience that technoise from Europe hits differently than other technoise does, especially the one from Germany (as technoise roots lie there)¹. He’s well known in the underground scene and also appreciated by Maelstroms. He used to be deejay-ing at Totentanz years ago and the location gave him a lot of inspiration for creating HELL BUNKER afterwards. He’s mostly known under the artist name ‘Garnet’² rather than under his real name. So in the first place Garnet is a musician and a business owner. But since he’s got ears and eyes everywhere to keep his club clean he may also have important info for mercs and he’s not easy to fight because of his installed Gorilla arms cyberware. He often acts as a bouncer for his own club. It’s likely to happen that you might get thrown out by him personally if you behave inappropriately. He doesn’t make any excuses. Chrome Chamber Rave especially has strict rules such as a certain dress code you gotta have to wear, otherwise you may not be able to enter.

SET LIST

Garnet still deejays at CCR. His setlist is of course all hard technoise yet he concentrates to mix it with more emotions and a touch of industrial, even some lyrics and tends to venture further than that. Each song is unique to itself and can be a true experience if you are willing to let yourself soaked in and let it touch your soul.

“Technoise may not be able to save the world, but it will save your soul.”

— Falco ‘Garnet’ Ritter

—

Cover artwork by me. Steal and you will be doomed. I‘ve chosen tracks only by one artist named ‘Roman Gehrecke’. This artist is the closest to what I imagine Garnet would produce as well. So I decided to borrow the music for Falco. Of course all the music belongs to Roman Gehrecke! There's one song at the end of it I see as the one that is always played at last so the audience knows ok after that it's done. This song is also not by the artist mentioned above but has a well known melody majority knows.

Recommendation: ‚Gefallene Engel‘, ‚Anderswelt‘, ‚Stimmen der Tiefe‘ and ‚Schutt und Asche‘ – best listened to via headphones and making time for it should you want to try to get soaked into.

———

¹ "Technoise and its various derivations dominate much of the German scene. If you're hip, you already know about Technoise. If not, listen up. Technoise is quite popular with the discerning young punk; it was popularized by Germany's own NetWerk actually, you've got your Overlay style from London, Jazznetic from Rotterdam and Echo from Frankfurt. In addition, there are people producing Frock (Fractal Rock) all over the place. The good thing is, Technoise is quite easy to produce. You only need a small computer, some software and you're ready to buzz. Those of you with a message might miss the political attitude, but you're missing the point. Technoise is strictly for partying, tripping and dancing. People meet and dance up to the runner's point. Maybe that's a political statement in itself, oder?" — Eurosource Plus – The New Eurotheater Sourcebook for Cyberpunk

² Garnet first is a song by my favorite band D'espairsRay I still love to this day (they ain't anything to do with techno). And second a gemstone that has the color of a darkened red, which I also try to give him as a main color theme of his wardrobe (together with black ofc).

[iventig]

“A new recruit? What do we would need a newbie for?”

“Soap, there's no use questioning it,the decision has been made months ago.Now quit bothering me.” Price is truly annoyed. Ever since he broke the news to his team,Soap has not stopped asking about why, when, how and for what reason this new teammate will arrive to the taskforce.

“Okay,Okay,I get it at least tell us where they’re from,I mean we need to work with them at the very best of our abilities and-“

“Johnny”

Finally, freedom and peace arrived in the menacing form of Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley. Never, in his years of work had Price thought that peace and Ghost would occur in the same sentence within his thoughts. As he stood just a few meters away from his office,and the peaceful moments that he’d get by just getting through that door, Gaz came from behind.

“Captain,outside is -“

“what time is it Gaz?” Price asked in the most nice and calmest tone he could muster. Inside his chest panic rose, as he reminded himself of today's date. The recruit is coming today at exactly 16:15 pm

“Its 16:13, sir”

“Thanks Kyle, I need all of you to go. To your bunks,or the main hall,or somewhere else. Now.”

“Why?” again, Sergeant soap thought it was a good idea to talk again and so to break the last straw of his captain’s calmness.

“Ghost make sure this nuisance doesn’t get in my way with his stupid mouth today again, or he’ll gets to experience a whole week of outside recruitment training.Understood?”

With that Price turned on his heel and out of the sight of his teammates

“Fucking bloody muppets” he mutters as he made his way outside

“Great job, Soap.Now what?”

“I know we’re all thinking the same. So, Gaz , even if you don’t want to say it, Im going to say it.We’re going to follow him, obviously.”

Soap looked to his brothers, expecting a quick response,but none came.A minute of silence followed.

“Soap,no”

“C’mon L.t, I know you give more fucks about this as you let on,so if nobody’s going to stop me,I’ll be following my Captain.”

With that he to turned in a over dramatic way just as Price did three minutes ago, and got to follow his captain way outside.

“This godforsaken scottish bastard.A’right ill better follow him and get him back before the captain does, if anyone asks for me tell’em i’m dead or drunk. Thanks sergeant Garrick.”

And so Gaz now stood alone in front of his superiors office door , neither knowing how to react to the oder given or the situation that had just occurred, while he simply wanted to inform his captain of the helicopter sighted near the base. So, he decided, he will do as told by both his Lieutenant and Captain Price, staying right where he was and tell anyone who asked that the Captain is on his Period,Ghost is drunk and Sergeant McTavish turned feral.

A rather peaceful start for them, Garrick thought.

In the helicopter, a young man looked down at his wrist, the watch showing exactly 16:14.

In exactly one minute the helicopter should land,he’d get off his seat, take his duffel bag and backpack, depart the helicopter and meet the Task force 141, under command by the British army and the CIA. He would meet his new colleagues and captain, staying with them for a exactly three months before He would be seated in this exact position, back to his home country and comrades.in exactly 45 seconds he would be on time, he thought, in 46 he would be late.

He hated being late, he despised the thought of being where he was supposed to be even a millisecond late.He knew how much could change within a single minute or even second. His time out in the fields made it even mir obvious to him, how important it was to be accountable, accurate and quick. He dreaded the thought of being late, as he knew, the seconds one waste, may be the last of anothers life

How long are thirty seconds really?

He looked down at his watch, he laughed. It was a quick moment of bitter happiness filled by empty thoughts.

29…28….27

The Helicopter landing and the small ruckus of the helicopter as it touched the ground was the only thing he felt.

16:15 exactly on time, Second.

[neiptune]

I’m in some mood for some melancholic longing, can I request “you never called it what it was” + rengoku + childhood best friends that liked each other but didnt end up together, maybe because of life, jobs, dreams etc 🥺💔

kyojuro rengoku x you never called it what it was

This is your nightmare, honestly.

Palms are already sweating as you eye the drink you ordered a few minutes ago being placed in front of you, it’s staring right back with a neon sign on top of it. The sign literally reads girl, you thought.

“Uhm, excuse me” you clear your throat as the barista who took your oder turns around with a frown. He’s probably having a bad day too but you’re on the verge of tears and a poorly made tea order is going to be the last straw.

“I ordered a chai tea latte with vanilla sweet cream cold foam?”

“That’s what it is”

“Ah… I mean, that’s a lot of cold foam” half of it is cold foam “could you please remake it? I’m so sorry to be a bother” you attempt a smile but his frown deepens.

“It’s the standard way to do it” he grumbles and quite literally snatches the drink from your uncertain hand, then proceeds to scoop out half of the cold foam and replace it with dairy milk. What you’re left with is a tall latte in a venti cup, with a random splash of milk you can’t even drink.

Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m allergic to dairy, could you please just—”

“I don’t have the time” he snaps and you wince “d’you think you’re the only customer here today? Take a look at that line, would you?”

Before he’s even finished with his little outburst, people are looking at you and tears are already pricking your eyes, stinging so painfully you just know blinking a few times to send them back won’t do the trick.

“What seems to be the problem, Kazuki?” a gentle but slightly high-pitched voice from behind you has you jumping. Not because it’s unexpected but because it’s familiar. You’d recognize that inflection anywhere.

Kazuki’s face lights up instantly, a pinkish tone crawling up to his cheeks. Is he embarrassed?

“Ah, Mr. Rengoku, good morning! This lady was just trying to—”

“Now, I don’t think that’s a polite way to speak to a customer” he interrupts him and you sense the tension stirring behind what’s most certainly a friendly smile. God, he hasn’t changed one bit.

When you sheepishly turn around his eyes widen and, for a second, your lungs cease to expand in your chest cavity. Of course he hadn’t recognized you. Of course he’s still kind enough to step in to defend a complete stranger.

An incredulous smile splits his handsome face, eyes glimmering with genuine excitement as he whispers your name.

“Hello, Kyojuro” you mirror his smile and add a pathetic little wave to it. He frowns and you hate to know why.

How can he still hate it, when you call him by his full name? You’re adults now. Adults who haven’t seen each other in years.

“I can’t believe this, I have looked everywhere for you!” despite the slight disappointment, he explodes in a boisterous laugh and, once more, everyone’s looking in your direction. Except this time you don’t mind, you don’t mind at all.

“Tell you what! Kazuki will remake your order, I’ll take the usual” he glances at the barista “and then I can walk you wherever you have to go. Or we could enjoy our drinks here? Whatever you want, just don’t slip away again” the warmth he’s unleashing on you has your head spinning, heart swelling with feelings you thought were long forgotten.

He’s right, you did slip away. Intentionally moved to another city, changed your number, left little to no trace behind, no address information. You thought leaving him, being cruel enough to cut him off without an explanation, would make it easier.

His attempts still reached you somehow. Your mom mentioning his calls, your friends running into him on the way home from work.



He asked about you.

He wonders if we have your new number.

He looked sad.

Why don’t you call him?



But you never did, you never could.

It was the right thing to do, if the staccato of your heartbeat is an indicator as you walk side by side in your favorite park, the one you used to come to when you were twelve and he insisted you rated all his cartwheels. The one with the old, chipped bench you waited on when you were fifteen and drunk, on your way back from a party filled with people you didn’t like. He showed up in the middle of the night and gave you a piggyback ride, silly giggles muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Perhaps you were just too different. He always loved the big, chaotic town you ached to leave. Life of the party, popular, impeccable at school, great at sports.

He never had too much time to actually care about all those moments, the innocent touches, the casual hold of a hand whenever you’d take a stroll, the three times he had kissed you. They still burn in the back of your mind.

Eleven years old, as a dare. Twelve years old, to distract you from the pain of a scraped knee. Sixteen years old, the one time you saw him indulge in a beer.

“Why did you disappear?” the question is void of bitterness, it’s gentle, even. Kyojuro is not stupid, he knows it was deliberate, he’s aware you didn’t cut ties with anyone else.

“Always hated Tokyo” you shrug, casually stirring the ice in your drink.

“But you left me, too” he insists “you were special to me. I guess I hoped…” the implications of what he’s not saying are too dangerous for you to bear.

“Don’t be ridiculous” you mumble “of course you were”

He stops in his tracks.

“So why…”

“Did you ever ask me to stay, Kyo?” your gaze meets his “you never said anything. You didn’t… you never called it what it was”

Taken aback, he blinks. One time, two times.

So you never thought you deserved better than me?

[the-fabled-geedis]

One Month on Testosterone.

The year has been off to a very rocky start, to say the least. While I have come further than i ever expected in many aspects of my personal journey of understanding my identity, I currently find myself set back once again in so many ways. And even though I know I am doing my best every day, it is increasingly difficult to remain grateful in my life.

As of a few days from now, I am one month on T. That is something to celebrate. I never thought I would have been able to muster the decisiveness necessary to be able to accomplish such a milestone.

However, too many things have knocked me down recently to muster many celebratory feelings. I lost my job. The next day, I was physically assaulted by my next door neighbor. As a result of no longer being safe in that building, I find myself suddenly having to move within the span of 3 days. I have been applying to jobs left and right. I woke up this morning to a rejection letter from my dream job. My car is acting up. My imposter syndrome and self doubt is at an all time high. It's a lot to grapple with all at once.

I haven't noticed any changes to speak of yet on T, other than the fact that I smell worse in just about every regard. TMI, but this is anonymous so whatever. My feet and armpits are sweating more and smelling worse than ever. Body oder in general is much stronger. My urine smells much stronger. My sex drive is notably higher as well, which is a new and odd feeling as an asexual, because I don't mentally feel any different towards sex- only physically. These are all things that I was told would occur, so I'm not surprised at all.

My three month follow up is in March. If I don't notice any other changes by then, I may up my dosage (I am a bit impatient for my voice to change, haha!).

I just have to keep my head down and keep on doing my best every day I guess.

Fuck it, we ball.

[omgpurplefattie]

WIP Wednesday

I have two WIPs at the moment, the Wedding Dress chapter of my MLC Star Trek AU, and the German language de-ageing liansanjiao fic for Speak Your Language Day.

The point to the de-ageing fic is actually that 'Xiaobao' translates terribly smoothly into German; while 'Little Treasure' is a bit awkward, 'Schätzchen' is only THE most common endearment in German. That's the point I started off from.

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

“Schätzchen, ich habe die neue Mechanik für…” kam eine Stimmer vom Eingang des Zimmers, gefolgt von einem fast hysterischen Ausruf. “Schätzchen!! Was hast du jetzt schon wieder angestellt? Wieso bist du…”

“Äh,” sagte Fang Duobing, der versuchte, sich trotz seiner gewaltigen Gewänder auf die Füße zu stellen. “Mutti. Wir haben eine Fertigkeit ausprobiert, oder vielmehr, A-Fei hat sie ausprobiert und dann ist sie auf uns übergesprungen. Er hatte ein altes Handbuch gekauft und…”

“Und jetzt seid ihr alle etwa acht Jahre alt,” sagte Meisterin He und bedachte sie alle mit einem strengen Blick. Li Lianhua fühlte sich, als müsste er sich verbeugen und dann eine vernünftige Erklärung für sein Fehlverhalten abgeben.

Und ja, er fühlte sich noch als Li Lianhua. Das Achjahres-Achteck schrumpfte deinen Körper und gab dir eine kindliche Seele, aber brachte zum Glück nicht dein achtjähriges Selbst zurück.

“Nur für dreizehn shichen, Meisterin He!” sagte Di Feisheng, ungewöhnlich zahm. “Ich -- es ist meine Schuld. Ich habe das Buch nicht richtig zu Ende gelesen. Schätzchen und Blümchen sind unschuldig. Sie wollten mir nur bei meinem Experiment helfen.”

“Das ist sowas wie die Drachen-Phönix-Umwandlung, die die unselige erste Ehefrau meiner kleinen Schwester beherrschte?” fragte Meisterin He. Sie hob ihr geschrumpftes Schätzchen wie einen umgefallenen Sack vom Boden auf und stellte ihn auf die Füße; dann trat sie an den Tisch und beugte sich über das alte Handbuch.

“Ich verstehe nichts von solchen Techniken,” sagte sie, “ich arbeite nur mit Dingen, die ich anfassen kann. Aber da steht ganz klar, ‘keine Kultivationspartner’.”

Sie seufzte, und setzte sich auf die Bank, auf der Blümchen und der kleine Rabauke ehrfürchtig Platz gemacht hatten.

“Ach Schätzchen,” grummelte sie, “ich wollte mich damit eigentlich gar nicht befassen müssen. Mit wem Du dein qi kreisen lässt, und wie du das anstellst, ist deine Sache. Das ist eine Jianghu-Angelegenheit, und damit nicht mein Problem.”

“Wir sind jetzt acht,” sagte Li Lianhua. “Wir lassen überhaupt nichts kreisen. Zumindest nicht so.”

“In dreizehn Stunden seid ihr wieder groß, aber immer noch nicht mein Problem,” sagte Meisterin He. “Manchmal muss ich allerdings abends mehre Blätter mit Kalligraphie füllen: NICHT MEIN PROBLEM. Ihr macht es mir nicht leicht, Jungs.”

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

For SYLD itself, I'm not going to provide a translation; Google Translate exists so nobody has to miss out. But for this nice WIP Wednesday, here is a barely edited MTL of the sample above:

“Little Treasure, I have the new mechanics for…” came a voice from the entrance of the room, followed by an almost hysterical exclamation. “Little Treasure!! What have you done now? Why are you…”

“Uh,” said Fang Duobing, trying to stand on his feet despite his enormous robes. “Mother. We were trying out a skill, or rather, A-Fei was trying it out and then it jumped over to us. He had bought an old manual and…”

“And now you are all about eight years old,” said Master He, giving them all a stern look. Li Lianhua felt like he had to bow to her, and then give a reasonable explanation for his misbehaviour.

And yes, he still felt like Li Lianhua. The Eight-Year Octagon shrunk your body and gave you a childlike soul, but thankfully did not bring back your eight-year-old self.

“Only for thirteen shichen, Master He!” said Di Feisheng, unusually tame. “I -- it's my fault. I didn't finish reading the book properly. Little Treasure and Little Flower are innocent. They just wanted to help me with my experiment.”

“This is something like the Dragon-Phoenix Transformation that my little sister's unfortunate first wife used?” asked Master He. She picked up her shrunken Little Treasure from the floor like a sack that had fallen over and placed him on his feet; then she walked to the table and bent over the old manual.

“I don't know anything about such techniques,” she said, “I only work with things I can touch. But it says very clearly, 'no cultivation partners.'”

She sighed and sat down on the bench where Little Flower and the Little Rascal had reverently made room.

“Oh, Little Treasure,” she grumbled, “I didn’t want to have to deal with that. Who you circulate your qi with and how you do it is your business. That is a jianghu matter, and not my problem.”

“We are now eight years old,” said Li Lianhua. “We don’t circulate anything. At least not like that.”

“In thirteen hours you’ll be big again, but you’re still not my problem,” said Master He. “However, sometimes I have to fill several sheets of paper with calligraphy in the evenings: NOT MY PROBLEM. You boys aren’t making it easy for me.”

[quecksilvereyes]

looking for a new forever home for an old cat in vienna

my sibling is currently looking for a new forever home for their cat mira because they've realised they can't take care of her the way she deserves to be taken care of (they want to travel, she does really badly when she's alone, but they also don't have the funds for a second cat) and they've asked me to spread the word here as well. Please refrain from shaming comments about the cat's age or my sibling's decision, people on facebook have been fucking vile.

In my sibling's words: "Hallo ☀

meine Mira sucht ein schönes neues zu Hause.

Ich habe sie, seit ich 7 bin und habe sie beim Auszug mitgenommen, habe aber inzwischen realisiert, dass ich ihr nicht das Zuhause bieten kann, das sie braucht. Da es mir wichtig ist, dass sie glücklich und gut umsorgt ist, suche ich nun jemanden, der ihr das geben kann.

Kommentare wie "Warum gibt man so eine alte Katze weg?" tun nur weh ich habe lange genug mit der Entscheidung gekämpft.

Sie ist 16 Jahre jung, braucht keine Medikamente oder sonst etwas.

Sie ist flauschig kuschelig, reinlich und verspielt. Sie kann "Sitz" und von Sessel zu Sessel springen mit Leckerlimotivation.

Sie zeigt einem auch gerne jede Ecke und schaut ob man eh noch zuschaut. 😁 Sie ist im Moment Einzelkatze freut sich aber mit Eingewöhnungsphase über einen Kuschel- und Spielgefährten.

Sie ist eine Wohnungskatze liebt es aber auch sehr am Balkon die Sonne zu genießen. In einem Paralleluniversum ist sie eine Outdoorkatze. 🧚🏽‍♀ Sie gewöhnt sich sehr schnell an neue Wohnumgebungen. Bei Menschen kann es länger dauern aber wenn sie einen ins Herz geschlossen hat bleibt das auch so. 🥰

Schreibt mir bei Interesse gerne eine Privatnachricht und wir können ein Kennenlernen in Wien ausmachen.

Alles Liebe" English: "Hello ☀

my Mira is looking for a beautiful new home.

I've had her since I was 7 years old and took her with me when I moved out, but I have realised that I can't offer her the home she needs. Because it's important to me that she is happy and well taken care of, I'm now looking for someone who can give her that.

Comments such as "why would you give away a cat that old?" just hurt, I have fought with this decision for long enough.

She is 16 years young, and doesn't need meds or anything like that.

She is fluffy and cuddly, very clean and playful. She can do "sit" and jumping from chair to chair (motivated by treats).

She also loves showing people every corner of her home and checks if she's being paid attention to. 😁 She is an only cat at the moment, but after a period of getting to know one another she would love a companion to play and cuddle with.

She is an indoor cat, but she loves sitting on the balcony in the sun. In a parallel universe somewhere she is an outdoor cat. 🧚🏽‍♀ She gets used to new environments very quickly. When it comes to humans, it can take a bit longer, but if she has let you into her heart, you will stay there. 🥰

If you're interested in her, feel free to send me a dm and we can see about scheduling a meeting so everyone can get to know one another in Vienna.

All my love"

[icansoiwill]

Heart Of Stone Chapter one: Meeting

~Summary: When you met Joel for the first time you didn’t ever think it would become the journey it has. He’s changed you and you have changed him. Was it for the better? Maybe. Was he hinging something from you? Possible. But through all of this you know that you were meant to know him.

~Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

~Words: 1.1k

~Warnings: I can’t think of any...

~Summary: When you met Joel for the first time you didn’t ever think it would become the journey it has. He’s changed you and you have changed him. Was it for the better? Maybe. Was he hinging something from you? Possible. But through all of this you know that you were meant to know him.

~A/N: I don’t know how updated this series will be or how long it will be but, I’m already working on the second chapter!

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The Boston QZ was the kind of place that made almost anyone feel the human misery of a run down squalor in the post outbreak world. It was a place to sleep, shower, and maybe have a bite or two. Those necessities were about it. I hadn’t been here for long, maybe 2 months. I already met a few decent people, but no one to stick close to or trust. Being here was something that wasn’t ever going to be a permanent situation. I just needed a bed to sleep on and enough food to feel like me again before moving onto the next. The showers were probably the most amazing part of the QZ. With showers being far and few between on the outside, one could muster up a real nasty body oder.

Residing in the QZ meant beginning each day “contributing to society”, or what was left of it. I began to get into a routine, which I had yet to determine if it was good or bad. Each day started with a quick stop at the food pantry to get a slice of bread and  maybe a small bowl of cardboard flavored oats, then the rest of the day was used to burn the dead and infected or clean up the new streets that they were expanding into the QZ. Cleaning the streets is where I met Tess.

On my first day getting the assignment, Tess showed me what to do. Scrape up any of the ridiculously overgrown weeds, pick up weapons or broken glass, and grab any infected that were killed by a FEDRA officer to put into the back of truck. Me and Tess always made small talk, which kind of only consisted of her asking me random questions and talking about her “guy”  This “guy” sounded dreadful to me honestly. Brooding and unemotional was all I heard from the way she described him.

“You should come meet him in person.” She offered.

“I wish I could, tonight I am gonna get settled in the apartment they gave me. But maybe some other time.” I replied lying though my teeth. With that Tess stopped talking about him and began asking more about me again. Where are you from? How were you able to survive on your own? Were you born after the outbreak? I tried to keep my answers short, at the time I wasn’t looking to make any friends.

“I was born a few years before the out break in Texas. But of course, once the outbreak began my family didn’t stay there long.”

“Well, if you had a family where are they?” Tess questioned. I wished she didn’t push that much. “Sorry, I know I’m asking you a lot of personal stuff right now. Just trying to make some conversation with the new girl.” I sighed quietly with a slight relief. Hopefully quite enough that she did notice.

“Yeah, I just don’t talk about it a lot. I’d rather keep it that way.” I told her. Much didn’t happen the rest of that first shift.

Over the past two months here, me and Tess became what one could call friends. Maybe more acquaintances. However, we had each others back which was something I admired about her. I still hadn’t met the guy she talked about, which I found quite weird. One would think that by now I could’ve at least put a face to the name. Joel. Joel sounded like it had a lot more charisma to it than what I would’ve thought for someone who sounded so gloomy.

“Alright everybody, We’re done for the day.” A man said through the FEDRA speaker from the other end of the street. The group began to gather their tools together and make way to the ration station that was set up by the end of the street. Tess had her stuff together and went ahead of me. I struggled to grab my gloves and face mask that fell on the ground. I eventually got myself together enough to try and catch up to make my way to the ration station as well.  I began to look down to make sure I did in fact grab everything when I ran into a chest. Everything, once again fell to the ground in a loud thud.

“ugh” the man groaned.

“I should’ve been paying attention, sorry about that” I said to him not looking up. Instead, I look down at our feet and see all of my things spread out on the ground. I bend down to start picking things up. The man just stayed quiet and began to help pick up my things. I went to look for my mask when I saw his hand holding it in front of my eyes. That is when look up and met his eyes.

They’re brown.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed. Something in his eyes seemed so familiar.

“Thank you” I told him as I grabbed the handkerchief mask from his hand.

“No problem, Ma’am” he said with a slight southern accent. He began to turn away. I could stop myself from asking…

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I blurted to his back. He turn around to face me. “Sorry, I just… I don’t know there just something familiar about you.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met” he stated.

“Oh okay, yeah.” I replied flustered and confused. Closing my eyes to shield myself from any possible embarrassment.

“But” I heard him say with a soft tone, “I was thinking the same about you.” I knew it…

The man looked at me like he knew he had to of seen me before. His face didn’t reveal much. He stared at me longer than i was expecting. His eyes seemed to move around my head studying my features. He face gave away the idea that maybe he wasn’t going to be forgetting me again.

“Hey! You two finally meet.” Tess said from behind the man. “Joel this is (y/n), (y/n) this is Joel”

“Oh so this is (y/n)” Joel flatly says to Tess. The tone he just gave was very different from the one that had come out of his mouth less than a minute ago.

“Oh and you must be Joel the broody guy that Tess has told me about” I stated back to Joel.

“They’re about to close up, You better go get your rations” Tess says to me.

“You told her that I’m broody?” Joel question Tess.

“I mean I didn’t say that in so many words, but maybe it came off that way” Tess tell him, “plus, be nice. I think she could be good for helping us on runs.” Tess smacks his chest as they watched me grab my rations.

[alphabetatoes]

an introduction to supplementary planning (mr. ben (snl) x reader)

a.n.: pedro might have only played a teacher for 5 minutes, but his impact was infinite <3

summary: a new school, a dual planning period, and overnight oats create an interesting start to the school year.

w.c.: 581

It was the start of the school year and Room 2404 was to be your home away from home for the foreseeable future. St. Lawrence High School had hired you on as the new English 4 teacher, and today was your first actual exposure to the academic environment.

You had heard bits and pieces of advice for your first year at Lawrence

“Crack your door at an angle of 45 degrees for the best draft.” “If the kids ask to share their screen, 9 times out of 10 it will end up being a meme you can barely decipher.” “Get friendly with Mr. Ben and the kids just might make you two the school’s IT couple.”

The last bit of advice had you the most intrigued. Mr. Ben had a reputation for being the teacher heartthrob, and you were fortunate enough to share a hallway with him.

Right before you reached your room, you could hear 80’s Boat Rock bustling through your neighbor’s door. Ben danced around his room, prepping the space for the kids soon to arrive. Math and science decor covered the walls, but it was so uniquely him.

Finally able to drop the last of your supplies off in your room, you practically sunk into the chair at your desk. Until a knock at your door had you sitting up straighter than a ruler.

“No kids? Guess we’re both fortunate to have a planning time during 1st period.” A hint of sarcasm peaked through his voice. You couldn’t help but smirk at his utter dismay for the morning.

“Well, since you’re halfway through the door- I could use a planning buddy to help show me the ropes.”

“Sure thing. Let me grab my lesson plans and I’ll be back faster than you can say ‘isosceles’!” Ben was gone for a split second and had returned with a binder full of instructional material.

The two of you had been on the grind and slowly inched closer to each other as the hour passed. You had no problem with it at all. He was a heartthrob, and you were getting a friend out of it as well. Duality had never looked better. … “Okay, I know we’ve been here for an hour, but I have to ask-“, he paused for dramatic effect. “What is that awful smell coming from the fridge?”

Honestly, you were relieved that someone else had taken note of the odor. You couldn’t tell if you were just in your head and making up every worst case scenario possible. To both of your simultaneous dismay and relief, the oder increased tenfold once the refrigerator door was opened.

“Overnight oats? Looks like it’s been left here more than just a night. My hypothesis is that this was a lunch that never came to be and has thus become an unintentional welcome gift.”

“The scientific method? Now you’re definitely securing a spot in my heart!”

His laugh. If a laugh were personified as an action, his would be the hug of your nearest and dearest friend. All your new school jitters disappeared in the time you had gotten to spend with him.

Abruptly, the school bell rang to signify the end of 1st period.

“Same time tomorrow?” This was a proposal you knew could only have one correct answer.

“You know where to find me.”, you winked.

Although it was your first year at a completely new campus, you could already tell it was going to be a good one.

[veetyuh]

Spicy time! What would you say is your most problematic/controversial ship? Or, similarly, the ship you would have to take the most time explaining because it might not make sense to anyone but you?

Hello anon, I am so sorry to get back to you late. Been going through some shit but this question genuinely cheered me up. It's very sweet of you to invite me to ramble. And it's just what I needed. Thank you. 🙏

And... All of them? ..all of them. My favourite ship dynamic is this: two characters whose mental illnesses fit together like puzzle pieces, such that they become an abomination greater than the sum of their parts. They are happier than they have ever known when with each other, but it is making them both worse. What these bastards need to improve as people and what they want are antithetical.

I'll limit myself to two of my favourite/most extreme instances of this, though. One which confuses people the most (EngSea) and one which I feel would be the most controversial (FraKug).

Let's actually start with the spicier one. FraKug requires background context into how I write Kugel, I think. For reference, I don't have a set age for them yet, but they're nebulously a t(w)eenager — just old enough to wander around alone without the greater public being alerted. Which is fantastic, because Roderich does not take an active parental role in their life. Kugel is less a child to supervise and more a phenomenon which Roderich bears witness to. There was this idea which Fed and I came up with: Imagine if you will, Roderich asking them while VISIBLY uncomfortable: "What, er... What are you..? Junge oder Mädchen..?" Kugel takes the day to think about it, then answers with an abstract painting of various red shades, hectic splashes and smears, with an actual goat horn piercing the canvas— and that draws the red pigment into question, EUGH. Nevermind, Roderich shouldn't have asked.💧Kugel reveres Roderich as their host country, and for saving their life by moving them to Vienna. They also believe him to be a master artist — and thus he must have understood what Kugel was trying to say with that painting. It is clear. (It is not.) Roderich's solution is to call them, uh... Whatever causes the least conversational friction. Elise is over? She thinks Kugel is a girl; Roderich will refer to her as a girl to keep from confusing anyone. Kugel infers that this is less a semantic convenience and more of an ontological statement. The master artist is giving them a new identity, for today. What could this mean...? What does it mean, to be a girl...?

There is continuous communication breakdown between them, and this is an impediment to active parenting — as if Roderich needed any disincentives. Roderich is just not made to take care of kids. It is a good thing that when Kugel came to him, they were already largely self-sufficient and fiercely independent. They come home every night for dinner, yes? Then they are fine... Sometimes Roderich does worry about them, and sometimes there are genuine moments between them, usually when Kugel has collapsed from exhaustion in the wake of a manic episode. But for the most part, Kugel is left to do their own (weird) thing.

All this to say, Kugel believes they are an adult. In their mind, they may as well be, right? They are well over 50 years old. They have been taking care of themself for quite some time. They actually have some artworks in prestigious galleries, and are an active, respected participant in the Vienna art scene (albeit anonymously, and under a pseudonym). Day in, day out, they are absorbed by studying, pondering, and artistically exploring the human condition. Without a shadow of doubt in their mind, they are an adult.

And, what worse a person to put within Francis' grasp? The long-haired, gender-flexible, artistic big brother who canonically is into kids, and the unsupervised, long-haired, intersex & gender fluid, artistic child who fancies themself mature for their age. The story practically writes itself.

Fran takes the kid to the Louvre and gets high off their unfettered reverence and admiration. It's a religious experience for them, and how cute is that?? It reminds Francis of some of his precious little colonies looking up to him. Ugh, Kugel is almost like a little Veneziano all over again — dammit, he never truly got his hands on Feli, but... Well, how easy would it be to convince Kugel to sketch one another? In the nude, of course; it isn't sexual, it's artistic. I won't go any further in describing that, but I'm sure you can see the potential for manipulation. There's fulfillment of fucked up fantasies Fran has had for a loooong time, and the attention of an older, skilled artist makes Kugel feel special. All flying under the radar thanks to the aforementioned minimal guardian involvement. Fran would go full pederast with it, too. No no, this is his apprentice, he is teaching them about his culture's history and artistic practices. He buys Kugel art supplies, fancy clothes, expensive jewellery. He introduces them to important people to help their art career. He dotes on them. And Kugel doesn't see anything wrong with the situation.

Moreover, because Fran also steps into a pseudo-parental role, Kugel receives a taste of what it might be like to have an active guardian. Fran combs their hair, preens them, teaches them French, regales them with stories of the old days (all heavily-embellished such that he comes out on top — in more ways than one). Fran cooks for them. Real food. Not the paint-splattered bag of potato crisps Kugel usually inhales from a vending machine when they suddenly become cognizant of the fact they haven't eaten in 12 hours. Fran takes them on trips to the countryside, they paint landscapes together. There are good aspects to their relationship, and those are hyper-visible. The rot beneath is concealed by flowers above.

What Kugel needs is a psychiatrist to treat their manic disorder, and a responsible supervisor capable of protecting them from those who would otherwise exploit them — say, Gilbert or Ludwig. They would find this to be restrictive and would take exception to it at first, until their quality of life gradually begins to improve. This is fundamentally at odds with what they want, which is to be treated as an equal to adults, even though they obviously aren't. In the same vein, what Francis needs is therapy to deconstruct his hypersexuality and pro-contact tendencies; what he wants is to relive his former glory through this child's admiration, and isolate with them in his fucked idea of a love story.

And similarly, EngSea is built upon this foundation of joy at the expense of mental health. Another disclaimer: my version of Sealand is history-based as opposed to canon, so he is aged up to 18, which is something I view as more appropriate given he's a WW2 veteran. (If you've murdered Nazis you deserve a drink, haha.) And his issues are innumerable, touching many of the classics: a dog abandoned by his master, a soldier without a war to fight, and an immortal dying a prolonged death. All issues which would be easily-solved if only the bastard whose face he shares acknowledges him. But of course, given the bizarre obsession of the British govt over Sealand, Arthur has acknowledged him, perhaps not in the way he wants though. At any rate, they do not fight like they used to, and both England and Sealand (IRL) are friendly toward one another nowadays. I choose to interpret this as them settling some of their differences.

It is difficult for Arthur to acknowledge all of his wrongdoings to Peter. But should he choose to start making right, he'd find that it's easier than imagined. Because in truth, Peter is far too much like him. His citizens are English, after all. The Sealandic embassy is located in a Toby's car park lmfao. And for a narcissist like Arthur, who craves external validation? Having someone match his tastes and his interests, and offer him undying loyalty (not exactly voluntarily, but still?) is at once everything he's ever wanted, and a recipe for making that narcissism worse. Peter is his mood booster. He wants his trusty fort around — for banter, for validation, for gossip, and for company that understands him. And, when Peter's natural instinct to protect and serve his host country accidentally stray a bit too far into the realm of an incestuous crush? Rather than handle the situation with grace, Arthur pounces on it.

A partner who is his guard dog, who loves him unconditionally, who is already steeped in his culture and loves his shitty food, and who is elated and head-over-heels at any modicum of attention from him. Again, he's everything Arthur's narcissism craves, and exactly what's needed to make it worse. Peter soothes his insecurities and reinforces his biases. Arthur's ego becomes outright insufferable to others, which in turn drives him back toward Peter. On Peter's end, he gradually and reluctantly compromises more and more of himself for Arthur's love; Arthur wants his fort. He does not want "England's Cuba" (actual quote from declassified British govt docs). The more he coaxes Peter into following his instincts as his fort, the more he pulls him away from his identity as Sealand. This is both a relief to Peter (who has been suffering a six-decade identity crisis from the duality of being an English military installation and a pirate/secessionist) and very disconcerting. In his mind, Roughs and Sealand are two very different people — and Arthur being insistent on Roughs makes him feel rather vulnerable. But if it's for Arthur...

There is, of course, quite a bit of good to the relationship. For starters, Arthur finally has someone he can trust fully, and subsequently be entirely vulnerable around. Even if it is sometimes reluctantly so. Some of his paranoia is soothed over by the ability to relax and let Peter serve him. No, not everyone is out to get him, and he is safe here... They also make huge strides in getting Arthur to be less bitterly self-deprecating, and also less uptight. He's more willing to be a bit goofy and nerdy while around Peter. Wearing the Tom Baker scarf outside, over their matching jumpers. Getting Peter a replica of The One Ring. Outings to Adventure Island in Southend, the beach, and self-indulgent niche historic tours that Peter positively eats up — take this lad up to Old Saltburn!! Hell, even taking him to iconic tourist spots will have him marveling. Peter also works through a good bit of his issues while with Arthur. Fewer war nightmares, less emotional dysregulation, and he begins to unpack some of his food trauma. Slowly but surely. Arthur can see the improvement and that only feeds into his ego more. Look at how good he is for Peter, look at how 80+ years of trauma are melting away. Who else could do this but him...?

Again, those good things are hyper-visible and disguise the worse parts. Arthur has a penchant for pushing Peter's boundaries, and it's a learning curve to manipulate him without pushback. One hint of frustration or anger and Peter is snapping in return, falling back upon his rebellious tendencies. For every failure, there is a lover's squabble which ends in Peter crawling back to him, and/or Arthur offering a half-baked apology after some serious reflection. He thinks won't push those boundaries again, except... Except he does. Just with more skill. And when Arthur finds the correct way to frame it — as a favour Peter is doing him, and lavishing him in praise and affection — then he truly has Peter eating from the palm of his hand, even against his own self-interest. In this way, they descend into hell together. Peter is slowly stripped of his autonomy, Arthur's worst traits are fed by Peter's admiration, and they become awfully co-dependent. But god, are they happy while hurting themselves.

Anyway. Thank you again anon for prompting me to ramble, and thank you for a welcome distraction in these difficult times. This was a delight in my inbox. 🫶

[heartofglass-mindofstone]

RULES: let the generator pick three words that must be included in a text. language up to you, whatever feels more comfortable !

Words: Year, Response, Lodge. / Ger: Jahr, Antwort, Hütte.

Reminded me of texts written with @phasmophobie and tried connecting it with some hints of Anastasia Story, Flashbacks, current events and connections.

Keep you in the dark, you know, they all pretend.

Keep you in the dark and so it all began.

Es war ein verregneter Tag in New York, manche würden es als ekelhaft bezeichnen. Es war warm, aber wolkenverhangen. Die Sonne schien, dann regnete es aus Eimern. Dann blendete die Sonne wieder derart, dass Menschen ihre Sonnenbrille hervorzogen. Also war es der perfekte Tag um am frühen Nachmittag leicht angetrunken in einer der hunderten Bars New Yorks zu versacken. Anastasia saß in der hintersten Ecke, las ein Buch, trank einen Drink nach dem nächsten. Bier, Longdrinks, Shot. So wie andere halt im Park mit einem Kaffee saßen und lasen. Bei besserem Wetter normalerweise. Es war mittlerweile ein Jahr her seitdem sie mit Pavel durch ihren Hang zu lustigen TikTok Trends in dem Horrorhaus gelandet war. Also, sie nannte es das Horrorhaus, Pavel konnte es ihr halbwegs gut erklären und ihr dabei helfen, das geschehene zu begreifen. Aber Horror war es nach wie vor für sie, auch wenn sie sich damit abfand das es halt mehr Horror als Liebe im Leben gab – was fast poetisch klang, wenn sie es aussprach. Ebenso war es Jahre her als sie die letzten Male mit Kameraden gesprochen hatte. War auch ein Horror, aber auch eine Erleichterung. Immerhin waren sie nicht alle tot. Oder halt doch, aber nicht so ganz weg.

Send in your skeletons, sing as their bones go marching in again. They need you buried deep, the secrets that you keep are ever ready. Are you ready?

Ihr Kopf wippte auch beim lesen zu der Musik auf ihren AirPods, manchmal bewegten ihre Lippen sich zum Text, und gerade als sie dabei war ihre Lieblingslyrics von den Foo Fighters im Part ‚The Pretender‘ mitzunuscheln unterbrach das störrische Klingeln ihres Handys die Freude bei allem was sie sich gerade einredete. Unbekannte Nummer? War eigentlich der perfekte Moment abzunehmen, ein Glas über das Handy zu halten und drauf zu trommeln, sodass die Person einen Hörschaden kriegen würde. Stattdessen nahm sie den Anruf mit einem simplen. ‚Ja?‘ an und wartete darauf, dass die Werbestimmen los gingen. „Hallo Miss Evans, hier ist Miss Johnson. Die Mutter von Anthony. Könne Sie sich an mich erinnern?“ Holy shit, und wie sie sich an die Mutter ihres Kameraden erinnern konnte. Lautlos schluckte sie den Kloß in ihrem Hals hinunter und spülte ihn mit Tequila runter. ‚Ja, kann ich.‘ – eine Frau der ganz großen Worte, Anastasia Evans. „Ihr Anruf aus dem letzten Jahr… also… als sie wegen Anthony angerufen haben, wissen Sie. Ich weiß Sie… er ist hier.“ Anastasia fiel alles aus dem Gesicht. Bullshit. Anthony war tot. So tot wie sie ihn in den Armen gehalten hatte in seinen letzten Atemzügen. So tot wie es niemals eine Beerdigung gab. So tot, dass keiner der Delta Force wusste, wo ihre Kameraden hinkamen, nachdem sie nicht mehr lebten. So tot, dass er niemals die würdige Beisetzung bekommen hat. So tot, dass sie im Horrorhaus schreiend, wie ein Kind am Boden saß als sie Anthony sah, lebendig wie eh und je, bevor er sich wortwörtlich in Luft auflöste in den ganzen Ereignissen. So sehr, dass Pavel sie irgendwie vom Boden aufkratzen und rauskriegen musste, sodass Ana nachts sturzbetrunken Anthonys Mutter angerufen hatte und ihr lebhaft erzählte, dass Anthony nicht tot war. Dass er in einer süßen Hütte hinter einem riesigen Haus im Wald irgendwo in Amerika lebte. Anastasia war diese Nacht dermaßen zu gepumpt mit Substanzen, dass sie sich sogar einredete es ging ihr gut und alles war super. Und danach hatte sie sich nie wieder dazu bewegt seine Mutter zu kontaktieren. Sie schämte sich – oder was auch immer. Es war nicht richtig und tat weh, da brauchte sie nicht. Das war nicht sie. Oder?

In time or so I'm told, I′m just another soul for sale, oh well. The page is out of print, we are not permanent. We're temporary - same old story. What if I say I′m not like the others? What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays? You're the pretender. What if I say that I′ll never surrender?

„Das ist absolute Blödsinn, Maria. Du weißt genau, wo Anthony ist! Ruf mich nie wieder an oder ich schwöre dir, ich besuche dich. Wir wissen beide, dass du das nicht willst. Wir haben niemals miteinander gesprochen!“, war die alkoholerfüllte Antwort der Veteranin, welche viel lauter und wütender sprach als es gut wäre, einige Gesichter sahen kurz fragend in die Ecke, in welcher sie saß. Diese Frau wusste sowieso schon zu viel und sie triggerte alle fürsorglich vergrabenen Erinnerungen von Anastasia, welche bereits spürte, wie kalter Schweiß ihren Rücken runterlief. Sie stand auf und wollte ihr Buch wegpacken, sie musste sofort hier raus. Doch es war eine andere Stimme, die ihr das Blut in den Adern gefrieren lies, dafür sorgte das sie einfror in eine regelrechte Schockstarre. ‚Miss Evans wir haben alle Aufnahmen aus dem Telefonat im letzten Jahr. Ich habe sie nicht so gesprächig in Erinnerung. In Kasachstan, im Krankenhaus, haben Schoonover und ich noch Wetten abgeschlossen, ob sie jemals wieder sprechen würden.‘ Es war die Stimme Rawlins die dafür sorgte, dass sie ihren gesamten Mageninhalt über den Tisch entleeren wollten. Ihr Körper zitterte, ihre Hände waren nass. Es war ihr egal ob Maria in Gefahr war. Diese Stimme war die reinste Gefahr. Hatte Maria sie verraten? Was hatte sie überhaupt erzählt? ‚Sie haben die Möglichkeiten in den nächsten fünf Stunden hier aufzutauchen, oder wir holen sie ab.‘ Noch bevor sie reagieren konnte, trat ein schwarz gekleideter Trupp mit maskierten Gesichtern die Tür zur Bar ein. Sie hatte gar keine Zeit. Noch bevor sich der erste Schreck der anderen Besucher legen konnte drang der Trupp vor, sie hatten sie längst gesehen. Und Ana war schon längst am rennen. Wie gut, dass sie niemals ein Gebäude betrat ohne genau zu wissen wie sie aus jeder Ecke entkommen konnte. ‚Sie können nicht ewig wegrennen, Evans!‘ brüllte die Stimme Rawlins durch ihre AirPods tief in ihr Bewusstsein, als die Verbindung zum Handy abbrach, sie hatte es bewusst in der Bar gelassen, während sie wortwörtlich um ihr Leben rannte, raus aus den Straßen des Barviertels.

I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear. I′m the face that you have to face, mirroring your stare. I'm what′s left, I'm what's right. I′m the enemy. I′m the hand that'll take you down, bring you to your knees. So, who are you?

tagged: @vikasgarden

tagging: @vasted @trauma-report @vergeltvng @verflcht @exsecrabar @caughtbetweenworlds and you!

[korealog]

(1) I‘m still life (ENG/DE) — Thursday, 25.07.24

(ENG)

It's me again, can you believe it? Two days in a row KoreaLog, wohoo! Since I can't hide what I'm going to tell you next for long when I get back anyway, I'd better do it now. Please don't be to shocked ;) I had a relaxed start to the day on Thursday as I had an appointment at a tattoo studio at 2pm. So, now it's out! I am now one tattoo richer & I don't regret it at all. I've been planning this tattoo for 6 months, with motif & quote and what it should mean. I've been following the tattoo artist for over 2 years now, so it was an even greater honour to get the tattoo from her. There are 2 wildflowers, underneath you will find a saying in Korean, it reads as follows: ‘이젠 내 자신을 위해 살거야’ Translated, it means that I want to live for myself from now on! It stands for me prioritising my own wishes, goals & my own happiness from this moment on. From now on, I will make decisions that benefit me instead of always looking out for others. This tattoo means an incredible amount to me. Also because I was able to have it done here in Korea. Because this journey is the start of my own path and my own dreams! I feel incredibly at home here, almost as if I've found the missing piece of the puzzle. And yes, I know that might seem totally strange to you. Germany doesn't give me the feeling of being at home. Since I've been here, I've been able to get to know a completely different side of myself & met so many lovely people! I will carry these memories in my heart forever.

But enough sentimental talk now. After the tattoo appointment, I went to Hongdae, one of the most popular neighbourhoods in Seoul, especially for young people. Shopping, busking and eating as far as the eye can see. There's something new to discover on every corner, you can't stay here long enough. I spent 2 hours at the street performances again. There is a lot of dancing here, especially in groups! The atmosphere was correspondingly electric. At around 7 pm, I settled down in one of the many restaurants & ate Tteobeokki. Afterwards, I wanted to walk along the streets until I was approached. 2 young, very pretty women engaged me in conversation :D Totally lovely people! We talked for quite a while, both in Korean and in English. Later they told me that they had studied Korean culture & now practise the traditional festivals and customs in cultural centres with lots of other people. Before I knew it, I Wasen my way with them to take part in a memorial ceremony. On the way we talked a lot about Korea but also Germany & the differences.

To be continued…

(DE)

Ich bin’s wieder, kaum zu fassen oder? Zwei Tage hintereinander KoreaLog, wohoo! Da ich das, was ich euch als nächstes erzählen werde, eh nicht lange verstecken kann, wenn ich wieder zurück bin, mache ich das ganze lieber gleich. Bitte nicht aus allen Wolken fallen ;) Donnerstag bin ich entspannt in den Tag gestartet, da ich um 14 Uhr einen Termin bei einem Tattoo-Studio hatte. So, jetzt ist es raus! Ich bin nun um ein Tattoo reicher & ich bereue es in keinster Weise. Ich habe dieses Tattoo schon 6 Monate vorher geplant, mit Motiv & Zitat und was es für eine Bedeutung haben soll. Die Tattowiererin verfolge ich mittlerweile schon seit über 2 Jahren, es war mir also eine umso größere Ehre, von ihr das Tattoo stechen zu lassen. Es sind 2 Wildblumen geworden, unter ihnen findet ihr einen Spruch auf koreanisch, er lautet wie folgt: „이젠 내 자신을 위해 살거야“ Übersetzt bedeutet das Ganze, dass ich ab jetzt für mich selbst leben will! Es soll dafür stehen, dass ich ab diesem Moment meine eigenen Wünsche, Ziele & mein eigenes Glück in den Vordergrund stelle. Ab jetzt werde ich Entscheidungen treffen, dir mir zu gute kommen, anstatt immer nur auf andere Acht zu nehmen. Dieses Tattoo bedeutet mir unglaublich viel. Auch weil ich es hier in Korean machen lassen konnte. Denn diese Reise ist der Start für meinen eigenen Weg und für meine eigenen Träume! Ich fühle mich hier unglaublich wohl, fast so als hätte ich hier mein fehlendes Puzzelteil gefunden. Und ja ich weiß, für euch mag das vielleicht total komisch klingen, aber Deutschland gibt mir nicht das Gefühl zuhause zu sein. Seit ich hier bin habe ich eine ganz andere Seite von mir kennenlernen dürfen & so viele liebe Menschen kennengelernt! Diese Erinnerungen werde ich für immer in meinem Herzen tragen.

So jetzt aber genug sentimentales Gerede. Nachdem Tattoo-Termin ging es für mich auf nach Hongdae, eines der beliebtesten Viertel in Seoul, vor allem für junge Leute. Shopping, Busking & Essen so weit das Auge reicht. An jeder Ecke gibt es etwas neues zu entdecken, hier kann man sich gar nicht lange genug aufhalten. Ich habe 2 Stunden wieder bei den Straßen-Performances verbracht. Hier wird sehr viel getanzt, vor allem in Gruppen! Die Stimmung war dementsprechend elektrisierend. Gegen 19 Uhr habe ich mich in einem der vielen Restaurants niedergelassen & Tteobeokki gegessen. Danach wollte ich noch etwas die Straßen entlanglaufen, bis ich angesprochen wurde. 2 junge, sehr hübsche Frauen haben mich in ein Gespräch verwickelt :D Total liebe Menschen! Wir haben uns ein ganzes Stück unterhalten, sowohl auf Koreanisch, als auch auf Englisch. Später haben sie mir erzählt, dass sie koreanische Kultur studiert haben & mittlerweile mit vielen anderen Leuten die traditionellen Feste und Bräuche in Kulturzentren praktizieren. Ehe ich mich versah, war ich mit den beiden unterwegs um eine Gedenkzeremonie mitzumachen. Auf dem Weg haben wir uns viel über Korea aber auch Deutschland & die Unterschiede unterhalten.

Fortsetzung folgt…

[nnato]

got tagged by @striking-stroll forever ago and finally got around to do this

1. Do you make your bed?

Depends on how you define it lol but it’s probably a no. I do put a soft blanket over it tho bc my cat likes to sleep on that while I’m away

2. Favourite number?

9!! It’s my bd month and I’ve used the number all through my active sports years as a jersey number

3. What’s your job?

I’m a primary school teacher!

4. If you could go back to school, would you?

Yes and no. Like I’m happy to make my own money now, but school was never really a problem for me. I (mostly) enjoyed the time there, didn’t have to do much for it either.

5. Can you parallel park?

Yes but I’d rather not lol

6. Do you think aliens are real?

I mean I don’t think we are the only living things in this universe, so that probably makes it a yes

7. Can you drive a manual car?

Technically, yes. My driving school car was a manual but I haven’t driven one in like 2.5 years and I only have my license for 3 years now lol

8. Guilty pleasure?

No clue rn

9. Tattoos?

Oh fuck yes, got 5 of them now and plan to get more. My self made rule is to get one once a year at least.

10. Favourite colours?

Green, but like a forest green or sage green, and blue!

11. Favourite type of music?

Mostly rock, I can always listen to that. STARSET, Eisbrecher, Sleep Token, etc. But also pop!

12. Do you like puzzles?

I haven’t done one in a while but I do!!

13. Favourite childhood sport?

Floorball/Unihockey which is like ice hockey but in a normal gym? And you have carbon sticks and plastic balls with like holes in it.

14. Do you talk to yourself?

Yes, a lot lmao sometimes out loud, sometimes only in my head.

15. Tea or coffee?

Depends on the mood so both

16. First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

The first thing I can remember is criminal investigator. There was a German crime show I loved to watch with my grandma and I wanted to be like that so bad haha

17. What movies do you adore?

“Rise of the Guardians” is great but I’m also a big fan of the Marvel movies. The new Star Trek movies as well!

tagging @dacchamp @alles--oder-nichts and @phanofclouds (if you want to)