#oh and don't worry I started learning German too

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

It's happened. I've discovered Rammstein.

I am utterly taken

I don't normally like this kind of music either

but its just so SO

So this may be all I blog about for a little bit

JUST A LITTLE BIT

This man (frontman Till Lindemann) has a fucking CHOKEHOLD on my lesbian soul like WTF

[honeyslibrary]

Native Tongue | Nico Hischier

Pairing; Nico Hischier x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Smut, cursing? (can’t remember lol), fluff, established relationship, edited once

Summary; Reader asks Nico to teach her some Swiss German

Word Count; 4.6k

Authors Note: This is so simple and the smut is more rushed than I’d like but I still love this so much. This was my first time writing for Nico and I’d say I did pretty okay? Translations are from Google so hopefully those aren’t too butchered 🙏🏽 Love you guys!! Accepting requests for Nico pls send if you have any 🩵🩵 -Honey

P.S: Scrolling Pinterest to find pics for the title/cover and oh my God is he beautiful. The brown eyes and dimples combo will do it every time I’m actually giggling at work I want him sooooo badly

The soft glow of a bedside lamp cast shadows across Nico's apartment, the warm light complementing the muted tones of his bedroom. Outside, Newark was alive with its usual evening bustle, but inside, time seemed to slow to a gentle rhythm. It was one of those rare off nights during the season. No game, no travel, just time to breathe.

You had been dating Nico Hischier for just over three weeks now. Everything still carried that new relationship electricity: the flutter in your stomach when he texted, the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you across a room, the way his Swiss accent thickened when he was tired or excited.

Tonight was simple. No fancy dinner reservations or planned activities, just you and him, lying on his bed, shoulders touching, talking about anything that crossed your minds. The conversation flowed easily between you, jumping from childhood memories to favorite movies to plans for the upcoming weekend.

His hand was resting in yours, and you traced the lines of his palm with your fingertips, feeling the calluses that told stories of countless hours gripping a hockey stick. These were the hands that had cradled pucks, won face-offs, and occasionally, thrown punches in defense of teammates. Now, they were relaxed in yours, trusting.

"Does this feel good?" you asked, pressing your thumb into the center of his palm in small, circular motions.

He hummed in contentment. "Very. Where did you learn to do this?"

"I had a friend who was a massage therapist. She taught me a few things." You continued working on his hand, moving to his fingers, gently pulling and stretching each one. "Hockey players need hand massages, right? All that stick handling."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "It's not something we talk about, but yes. Hands, wrists... they take a beating."

"Well, consider this a service to the Devils, then. I'm helping maintain their captain."

His smile was visible even in your peripheral vision. "Very thoughtful of you."

You both fell quiet for a moment, comfortable in the silence. The soft whirr of the heating system provided a gentle backdrop to your thoughts. Outside, a car horn honked, distant and unimportant.

"Can I ask you something?" you said finally, your voice soft in the dimly lit room.

"Anything."

"Would you teach me some Swiss German? Just a few phrases?"

Nico turned his head to look at you, his expression curious. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged, still focused on massaging his hand. "I don't know. It's part of who you are. I want to know all parts of you." You paused, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. "Plus, I think it sounds beautiful when you speak it."

He was quiet for a moment, and you worried you'd said something wrong. But when you finally looked at him, his eyes were soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

"That's... no one has ever asked me that before." He shifted to face you better. "What would you like to learn?"

You grinned, excited. "Start with the basics? Hello, goodbye, thank you?"

Nico nodded, looking thoughtful. "Alright. So, 'hello' is 'grüezi' in Swiss German."

"Grüezi," you repeated, the unfamiliar word clumsy on your tongue.

His smile widened. "Not bad for a first try. Try again, but it's more like... 'GRÜE-tzi' with emphasis on the first part."

"Grüezi," you attempted again, trying to mimic his pronunciation.

"Better! Now, 'goodbye' can be 'uf widerluege'."

You laughed. "That's a mouthful. Uf... wider..."

"Widerluege," he finished, his voice patient. "It literally means 'until we see each other again'."

"That's actually beautiful. Uf widerluege," you tried, the words feeling foreign but fascinating on your lips.

"And 'thank you' is 'merci vielmal'."

"That sounds part French!"

Nico nodded. "Swiss German borrows from many languages. We're surrounded by different cultures."

"Merci vielmal," you said, feeling proud when his eyes lit up at your decent pronunciation.

"Perfect! You're a natural."

The praise warmed you. "What else can you teach me?"

Nico thought for a moment. "How about... 'I like you'? That's 'Ich mag dich'."

"Ich mag dich," you repeated, looking directly into his eyes as you said it.

Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly. "Very good."

"And how would you say 'I really like you'?" you asked, your voice dropping to just above a whisper.

"Ich mag dich würklich sehr," he replied, his voice equally soft.

You repeated the phrase slowly, "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His eyes never left yours as you spoke, and you noticed the way his breathing seemed to have quickened slightly. Feeling emboldened, you placed his hand down and shifted to face him fully.

"What about..." you hesitated, "how would you say 'kiss me'?"

The atmosphere in the room changed, charged with unspoken tension. Nico's eyes dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again.

"Küss mich," he said, his accent thicker than before.

"Küss mich," you whispered.

He didn't move immediately, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips met yours in a soft, questioning kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious, almost lustful. "Say something else," he requested, his voice rougher than before.

"What should I say?"

"Anything," he replied. "Just... in Swiss German."

You cast your mind back to the phrases he'd taught you, feeling a strange power in knowing how much it affected him to hear you speak his native language.

"Grüezi," you said softly, watching his reaction. "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His exhale was shaky. "Again," he whispered.

"Küss mich," you repeated, more confidently this time.

He closed the distance between you once more, this kiss deeper, more certain. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your own hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palm.

When you separated, both of you were breathing harder. The look in his eyes was intense, almost vulnerable in its honesty.

"You have no idea what it does to me," he admitted, his voice low, "hearing you speak my language."

"I think I'm getting an idea," you replied with a small smile. "How do you say 'I want you'?"

His eyes darkened further. "Ich will dich."

"Ich will dich," you repeated, maintaining eye contact.

A soft groan escaped him. "Your pronunciation is terrible," he said, but his tone was affectionate, teasing.

"Then teach me," you challenged, shifting closer to him.

"Say it again," he instructed, his hand now resting on your waist.

"Ich will dich."

"The 'ch' is deeper, from the back of your throat," he explained, his fingers drawing small circles on your hip.

You tried again, inadvertently making the same mistake.

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips despite the intensity in his eyes. "No, listen to me. Ich."

"Ich," you repeated, still not quite getting it right.

"Here," he said, bringing his hand up to touch your throat gently. "You feel it here when you say it correctly."

You tried again, focusing on the sensation under his fingertips.

"Better," he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now the whole phrase."

"Ich will dich."

"Perfect," he whispered, and then his lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, his hand sliding from your throat to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he pulled you closer.

You responded in kind, your hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, feeling the short hairs there. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you granted readily, a small sound of pleasure escaping you.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "How do you say 'beautiful'?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Schön," he replied, equally quiet.

"Du bist schön," you attempted, guessing at the structure.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before crinkling at the corners with his smile. "That's right. You're learning quickly."

"I have a good teacher," you replied, running your fingers lightly through his hair.

He closed his eyes briefly at your touch, then opened them again, his gaze intense. "It's strange," he said softly.

"What is?" you asked, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Hearing someone speak my language... it's like hearing a piece of home." He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "Especially someone I care about."

The tenderness in his gesture made your heart flutter. "Even if my pronunciation is terrible?"

"Especially then," he laughed softly. "It's... I don't know how to explain it. When you speak English, you're just you. But when you try to speak Swiss German..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "It's like you're reaching for a part of me that not many people here get to see."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I want to see all parts of you, Nico."

His eyes darkened at that, and he shifted slightly, bringing himself closer to you. "Say it again," he murmured.

"What?"

"Ich will dich," he prompted.

You repeated the phrase, trying your best to match his pronunciation, "Ich will dich."

A small groan escaped him, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent than before. His hand moved to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his tongue sought entrance, which you granted eagerly.

When you broke apart, both breathing heavily, there was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. "I don't know why it affects me so much," he admitted. "Hearing you speak Swiss German. It just... does something to me."

You smiled, feeling a surge of power at the knowledge. "Then I should probably keep practicing," you said, your tone deliberately innocent even as you shifted closer, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his hand moving to your waist, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. "It's important to practice."

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

He didn't need to be told twice, his lips finding yours again as his hand splayed across your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the solid strength of him as he held you.

"One more phrase," you breathed when you separated for air. "How do you say 'I want you to touch me'?"

His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to grow even more intense. "Ich will, dass du mich berührst," he replied, his accent thicker than usual.

You tried to repeat it, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds, and he smiled, the expression somehow both tender and predatory.

"Close enough," he murmured, and then his hand was moving, tracing a path up your side with deliberate slowness.

"And how do you say 'don't stop'?" you asked, your voice catching as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"Hör nicht auf," he told you, watching your face intently.

"Hör nicht auf," you repeated, the words turning into a soft gasp as his touch became more purposeful.

His hand slid higher beneath your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your ribs tantalizingly slow. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting something deep within you. His eyes remained fixed on yours, gauging your reactions, seeming to find satisfaction in every small catch of your breath.

"Another phrase?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that you could feel through his chest where it pressed against yours.

You nodded, not trusting your voice as his thumb traced lazy circles just below the underwire of your bra.

"How about 'please'?" you managed, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small smile. "Bitte."

"Bitte," you echoed, the word barely audible.

Something flashed in his eyes. Hunger, affection, and something deeper that made your heart race. "Say it again," he instructed, his hand stilling its movement.

You understood his game immediately. "Bitte," you repeated, more urgently this time.

His smile widened slightly, satisfaction evident in his expression as his hand resumed its exploration, this time venturing higher. His touch was confident but gentle, asking permission without words.

"Yes," you breathed, answering his unspoken question.

And then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hand finally moved to cup your breast over your bra. You arched into his touch, a small moan escaping into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, his kiss deepening as his thumb brushed over the fabric covering your nipple.

Your own hands weren't idle, moving to explore the firm planes of his chest through his t-shirt. You could feel the defined muscles beneath the soft cotton, the result of years of athletic training. Feeling emboldened, you tugged at the hem, silently asking for permission to remove it.

Nico broke the kiss long enough to help you, sitting up slightly and pulling the shirt over his head in one fluid motion before tossing it aside. You took a moment to admire him: the broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered freckles across his skin that you'd never noticed before.

"Schön," you said softly, using one of the few words he'd called you that seemed appropriate.

His expression softened at your use of his language. "That's my line," he replied, reaching to touch your face with gentle fingers. "Du bist wunderschön."

"What does that mean?" you asked, leaning into his touch.

"You are beautiful," he translated, his eyes never leaving yours.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned forward to press your lips to his collarbone, then moved higher to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear that you'd discovered during your earlier make-out sessions. He inhaled sharply, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

"Your turn," he murmured, tugging lightly at the bottom of your shirt.

You nodded, allowing him to help you remove it. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, but they were quickly replaced by warmth as Nico's hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer again.

His kisses became more insistent, trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

"How do you say 'more'?" you asked breathlessly.

"Meh," he replied against your skin, the word followed by a gentle nip that made you gasp.

"Meh," you repeated, and felt him smile against your neck before he continued his exploration, his mouth moving lower to the swell of your breasts above your bra.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, but he paused, looking up to meet your eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You appreciated his care, his constant checking in. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him, his consideration, his respect, his unwillingness to assume.

"Yes," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Ja."

He unhooked your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your arms and setting it aside. There was reverence in his gaze as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup your breasts with gentle pressure.

"Beautiful," he whispered, this time in English.

You felt a flush spread across your chest and up to your cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in it, only warmth at the naked admiration in his eyes. He lowered his head, replacing one of his hands with his mouth, and you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

His tongue circled your nipple before taking it between his lips, the gentle suction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, encouraging him.

"Nico," you breathed, his name a prayer on your lips.

He hummed in response, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation. His free hand wasn't idle, moving to give your other breast equal attention, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in rhythm with his mouth.

The dual stimulation was intoxicating, but you wanted more. Your hands moved down his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath warm skin as he moved. You traced the ridge of his spine, then moved lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

He lifted his head from your breast, eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough.

You considered using one of the Swiss German phrases he'd taught you, but in this moment, you wanted complete clarity. "I want to feel you," you said simply. "All of you."

His expression grew serious, though the hunger in his eyes didn't diminish. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush anything."

The care in his question made your heart swell. Three weeks wasn't a very long time, but in those weeks, you'd spent nearly every free moment that he had together. You'd talked for hours, shared meals, watched games, exchanged stories about your lives. There had been countless kisses, increasingly heated make-out sessions, but you'd both been content to take things slowly. Until now.

"I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "I want this. I want you."

He turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, the gesture unexpectedly tender amidst the heat of the moment. "I want you too," he replied, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "But we go at your pace, okay? You tell me if you want to stop, anytime."

"I will," you promised.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then leaned down to capture your lips again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. His hands moved to your waist, then lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He looked at you again, a silent question, and you nodded.

With careful movements, he unbuttoned your jeans and helped you shimmy out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes traveled over your body with appreciation, but there was also something protective in his gaze.

"Your turn," you said, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants.

He helped you, pushing them down and kicking them off. Now both of you were down to your underwear, the thin fabrics the only barrier between you. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that you affected him so strongly was intoxicating.

His hand moved to your hip, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Please," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Bitte."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at your use of Swiss German. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he slid your underwear down your legs, his touch leaving trails of fire on your skin. Once they were removed, he took a moment just to look at you, his expression a mix of desire and something that looked remarkably like awe.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."

"You're just you," you replied simply, reaching for him. "That's more than enough."

He came willingly into your arms, his body covering yours, the weight of him a delicious pressure. You could feel every inch where your skin touched his, chest to chest, hip to hip, legs tangled together. His hand moved between your bodies, fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, then lower, seeking permission in your eyes before venturing further.

You nodded, your breath catching as his fingers found your core, exploring with gentle curiosity. He watched your face intently, learning what made your breath hitch, what made your back arch, what drew sounds of pleasure from your throat.

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

His eyes darkened at your use of his language, and he leaned down to comply, his kiss hungry and deep as his fingers continued their skilled movements. You were lost in sensation, the world narrowing to just this, his touch, his taste, the weight of him above you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes were serious. "Do you want to continue?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

"Yes," you nodded without hesitation. "Do you have...?"

"Protection? Yes," he confirmed, reaching toward the nightstand drawer.

You took the opportunity to help him remove his boxers, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him fully naked. He was beautiful. All lean muscle and smooth skin, his body a testament to years of athletic discipline.

He retrieved a condom from the drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with practiced movements. Then he was hovering over you again, his weight supported on his forearms on either side of your head, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked one more time, his voice gentle.

The care in his question made your heart swell. "I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "Ich will dich," you added, using the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

A groan escaped him at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he positioned himself. "Tell me if you need me to stop," he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he began to push forward, entering you with carefully slow. The sensation was intense, and you focused on your breathing, on relaxing, on the feeling of him gradually filling you.

When he was fully seated, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing as uneven as your own. "Okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice despite the strain of holding still.

"More than okay," you assured him, shifting your hips slightly to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "You can move."

He started slowly, with gentle, measured thrusts that allowed both of you to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of discomfort, but all he would find was pleasure building with each movement.

Gradually, as your body relaxed and welcomed him, his pace increased. Your hands moved to his back, feeling the play of muscles as he moved above you, within you. The room filled with the sounds of your combined breathing, occasional moans, and the rustle of sheets.

"Okay?" he asked again, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.

"Yes," you gasped, arching to meet his thrusts. "Don't stop—Hör nicht auf."

His rhythm faltered momentarily at your use of Swiss German, a groan escaping him. "You're killing me," he muttered, but there was affection in his tone beneath the desire.

He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars exploded behind your eyelids as he hit a spot deep within you that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. "There," you breathed, "right there."

Understanding immediately, he maintained the angle, his thrusts becoming more purposeful. One of his hands moved between your bodies, finding the bundle of nerves at your center, circling with just the right pressure.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation.

"Nico," you gasped, feeling the tension coiling tighter.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice strained but reassuring. "Let go. I want to see you."

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and fingers, pushed you over the edge. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching against his as you cried out his name. He worked you through it, his movements slowing but not stopping, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

As you came down from your high, you became aware of his still-rigid length inside you, of the tension in his muscles as he held himself in check. You reached up to touch his face, bringing his eyes to meet yours.

"Your turn," you said softly, clenching around him.

A groan tore from his throat, his control visibly slipping. "Are you sure? I can—"

"I want to feel you," you cut him off, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Let go."

Something in your eyes must have convinced him, because with a shuddering breath, he began to move again, his rhythm more urgent now. You watched his face, fascinated by the play of emotions: pleasure, concentration, and something deeper that made your heart race.

His movements became more erratic, his breathing harsh, and you knew he was close. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down so that your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest.

"Ich will dich," you whispered in his ear, remembering how strongly he'd reacted to you speaking his language earlier.

The effect was immediate. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips jerking against yours as he found his release. You held him through it, hands stroking his back, murmuring encouragement as he shuddered above you.

For a long moment afterward, neither of you moved, content to stay connected, his weight a pleasant pressure, his breath warm against your neck. Finally, he shifted, carefully separating from you and moving to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.

When he returned, he immediately gathered you back into his arms, pulling the rumpled sheets over both of your cooling bodies. You settled against his chest, listening to the gradually slowing beat of his heart, feeling utterly content.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft in the dim room.

You nodded against his chest. "More than okay."

His hand moved to stroke your hair, gentle and soothing. "That was..." he seemed to search for the right word.

"Amazing?" you supplied, tilting your head to look at him.

He smiled, the expression soft and genuine. "Amazing," he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "But I meant what happened between us. It's not just physical for me."

The vulnerability in his admission made your heart swell. "It's not just physical for me either," you assured him, reaching up to touch his face. "I really care about you, Nico."

His eyes softened at your words. "I care about you too," he replied, his accent thicker with emotion. "Very much."

You settled back against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. Outside, Newark continued its evening bustle, car horns honking and sirens wailing in the distance. But in here, in the soft glow of Edison bulbs, there was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and newfound intimacy.

"Teach me one more phrase," you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, his voice rumbling beneath your ear.

You thought for a moment. "How do you say 'stay with me'?"

He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "Blieb bi mir."

You repeated it, looking up to meet his eyes as you did. "Blieb bi mir."

His expression was tender as he looked down at you. "As long as you'll have me," he promised, pulling you closer.

My Patreon, where you can find exclusive fics not posted anywhere else: HERE

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Hey so can I have a scenario where Kurt has a s/o who he has been with for a while. It’s smut. S/o is a gentle, loving, passionate top? It’s not about his appearance or any bad actions he has done. S/o is just very loving in the moment with him whenever they do the deed?

~Late To The Party~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: oral m & f receiving, lots of praise, general goofy cuteness here

Genre: it's smut ofc but plenty of fluff too

Summary: Sometimes your boyfriend just looks good enough to eat ;)

A/N:Thank you for requesting darling! <3

***

You hum to yourself as you do your makeup at your vanity. You want to go relatively simple, a smokey eye probably, that's your go to when you're struggling to decide on a look. While you work, you hear your boyfriend mutter a couple of curses in German and stifle a chuckle. This happens any time he tries to tie a tie.

"Having a bit of trouble, my love?" You ask walking over to the bathroom where he's no doubt rebuking the very creation of neckties.

"Help, please?" He sighs, hands dropping to his sides.

"Of course my sweet." You smile, adjusting the sides to the proper length and tying it for him.

"This is ridiculous I should be able to tie a tie." He grumbles.

"I don't think it's that important, it's not like you wear ties every day." You shrug.

"But- most adult men can tie a tie, can't they?" 

"I dunno. But you should never learn because I like doing it for you." You adjust the knot around his neck slightly and tap his nose.

"I think it's important that I learn how to tie one for myself." He says.

"Yeah if you plan to start working at a bank." You scoff.

"A bank?"

"Or any other job that requires a tie every morning. You wear them so rarely that I really don't think you're missing out on anything, but if you must know, I'll teach you to do it for yourself. Even though I like doing it for you."

"Thank you." He says and you offer him a smile. With the tie fiasco out of the way, you take a look at his full outfit. He looks good. I mean he always looks good but he looks especially good right now. You tilt your head as you examine him.

"Is that a new shirt?" You ask.

"Yes. Does it look weird?" Kurt frowns looking down at himself.

"No! Quite the opposite, it looks really good." You tell him.

"Really? I wasn't sure the color would-"

"The color is perfect. Although, now I wonder if I should change so we match better." You look down at your own dress.

"Don't. You look amazing." Kurt says softly with that doe eyed lovey look he sometimes gives you. The one that so closely resembles the blissed out expression on his face after sex. Like the other day, you went through your toy stash together, and he picked a couple out that piqued his interest- that was a fun night.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll be incredibly late to this party." You tap under his chin and leave the bathroom before your wandering mind does make you both late.

"Late? Why? We're pretty ahead of schedule right now." Kurt checks his watch while you sit back at your vanity.

"I know but we won't stay that way with you giving me that dopey grin." You tell him as you do your eyeliner.

"What dopey grin?" He frowns at you through the mirror.

"Well you're not doing it anymore, but sometimes you get this dopey grin on your face like I put the sun in the sky every morning and it looks a lot like your 'I just got my brain turned to mush' face after we have sex." You tell him.

"Oh."

"Don't worry I'm not going to jump your bones- I'm just thinking about it." You wink at him through the mirror as you swipe on your lipstick.

"I- don't wanna be late." He says hesitantly. You spin around on your vanity bench and face him.

"This lipstick is pretty life proof. I bet I wouldn't even have to redo it before we hit the road." You say, taunting him slightly. He's within arm's reach so you pull him towards you by the wrist and he looks at you with wide eyes, anticipating your next move.

"Liebling-"

"I know I said I was only thinking about it- but you are just too cute, I don't think I can wait til we get back to eat you up." You hum. Kurt gulps, he knows he won't be able to stop you once you start putting your hands on him or rather he'll have no desire to do so, but he doesn't want to show up super late to this party.

You thumb the button of his slacks and tug down the zip, shimmying his pants about halfway down his legs, freeing his dick, which is basically at eye level with you sitting on the vanity bench.

"Now, you'll have to keep your hands to yourself, I don't want you messing up my makeup. The rest of it isn't life proof." You warn him.

"But we'll be late to the-" Kurt trails off when your hand caresses his thigh.

"What were you saying?"

"I- you're distracting me." He says.

"Am I? Should I stop then?" You hum.

"Y/n please."

"We can go! You just have to tell me you don't want it, or even just step back. You haven't moved away so I'm not sure that I'm convinced you care that much about being late at this point." You muse. You're still just rubbing his thigh, giving him plenty of time to stop you.

"I care but I- liebling you know I can't say no to you." Kurt sighs.

"I'm not going to do anything if you won't ask for it then." You shrug.

"What?"

"Since you're so concerned with being on time I'm leaving it in your hands, if you want to leave we'll leave, but if you want what I want you'll have to tell me that."

"It- it's not the end of the world if we're a little late, right?"

"Right. So are we going to be a little late?"

"I- I think we're going to be a little late." Kurt says.

"Brilliant." You smile, wrapping your hand around his dick. Kurt takes a sharp breath and his abs tense in front of you. You wrap your lips around the tip of him and he gasps, squeezes his eyes shut, and balls his fists at his side.

"Y-you look- r-really pretty right nnnow." Kurt stutters.

"Thank you baby, so do you." You wink at him and take him back into your mouth. You watch his mouth fall open and his head tip back as he loses himself in the heat of your mouth wrapped around him. You move your head slowly up and down his length, taking more and more of him with each forward movement.

Kurt's hands flex repeatedly, but he diligently keeps them off of you, a task he decides he vehemently hates. The man is never not touching you when you're together, not even in a sexual way, he just loves to have his hands on you.

You continue sucking him off alternating between slow drags and faster bobbing. It's driving him nuts, the sounds spilling from his parted lips telling you everything you need to know. His moans are breathy and sometimes border on whines as they fall on your ears like your favorite song. Only once his legs threaten to buckle beneath him do you let the teasing stop and focus on making him cum. It doesn't take long, you've pushed all the right buttons to get him properly worked up and when you swirl your tongue against the spot just below the tip that always sets him off he spills into your mouth with a groan. He has to grab your shoulder to stay upright as you work him through his orgasm. When you're confident you've swallowed all evidence of his release you finally pull off of him. There's that dopey post-orgasm look of his you love so much.

"I love watching you fall apart you know." You smile as he takes a very shaky deep breath. 

"Not touching you is really hard." He huffs out making you laugh.

"Feeling alright my love?" You ask him.

"I- uh- I feel unsteady."

"Well! Luckily, I have a solution for that." You tug his arm with enough force to pull him to his knees in front of you. "Addendum, it's technically not a solution, more accurate would be luckily I don't need you on your feet for this next bit." You smile.

"This next bit?"

"You said not touching me is really hard. Well now you get to touch me. I wanna see your pretty face buried between my legs."

"Well you definitely don't have to ask me twice." Kurt says, pushing up the skirt of your dress until your panties are visible. He tugs them quickly down your legs and settles between your thighs with his hands resting on them.

"God you are perfect." He practically sighs before taking one long lick of your cunt. He groans at the taste before diving in fully. Kurt's tongue is eager against you, lapping up your juices, circling your clit, thrusting in and out of your center. He eats you out like a man starved, and your fingers thread through his hair has he does so.

"Fuck, Kurt, you're so good at this." You moan, grinding against his face. Kurt pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. He continues to rub the outside of said leg as he does all your favorite tricks with his tongue and you continue to moan and shower him with praise. 'I love you's and 'god that feels good's break up your cacophony of moans and groans. You arch towards him when he fucks you with his tongue, squeeze your legs around his head when he draws tight circles against your clit, and grind into his mouth when he slurps up your juices.

When he glances up at you and your eyes meet, you can barely stand the intensity of his gaze. He's looking at you as if his plan is to devour you from head to toe and nothing is more important than doing exactly that in this moment.

"You are so fucking hot Kurt." You sigh. Kurt groans deep in his throat and the vibrations make you gasp briefly. You pull at his hair and it makes him groan again. When you start releasing a string of curses Kurt focuses all his ministrations on your clit, tight circles that are sure to push you to the edge and over it rather quickly.

"Holy FUCK!" You groan as your orgasm hits. Kurt continues to tongue at your pussy until the aftershocks pass. You drop your leg from his shoulder making Kurt lean back.

"God I love you." Kurt says kissing your knee.

"I love you too my darling." You say smiling at him as you try to fix his hair a bit. You look over your shoulder to check your makeup in the vanity mirror.

"That- was definitely worth being late for." Kurt hums and you laugh.

"I'm glad you agree. And look at that, my lipstick still looks perfect." You muse.

"That would be one hell of an advertisement actually." Kurt chuckles.

"Definitely." You say putting on your earrings and necklace. Kurt stands and tucks himself back into his trousers. You grab a wet wipe from one of the drawers at your vanity and stand up, taking a moment to clean off Kurt's face.

"I was planning to clean that up myself ya know." Kurt says.

"I'm not going anywhere, you're welcome to more later." You wink.

"I will take you up on that." He says.

"Later my love, we should get going." You say. You give him a quick kiss and take his hand, leading him out of your room so you're not any later to this party.

***

[allieslibrary]

Eren Jaeger HCs

These are just some hcs that I have of eren jaeger. I will eventually write a story that includes all of these

—He's German. He's from a little town outside of Munich, Germany. He was born and raised there but he and his friends decided to attend University in the United States. They specifically chose the south because Eren's older half brother lives in a southern state because he plays baseball for a southern team.

—He's an architecture major. He knew what he wanted to do from a very young age but didn't know what it actually was until high school where they began talking about University and future careers that he was 100% sure he wanted to be an architect. Every once in a while him and his family would go to Legoland Germany as a kid, especially since him and his family only lived a hour away by car. He always admired how they use the Legos to build different things. On top of that he was always the kid building things out of random items, especially a house out of cardboard for his older sister who would have toys.

—Eren is trilingual. His first language is German. The other two languages he knows is English and Italian. He would also spend some of his summers in Emilia-Romagna, Italy. His mother was Italian and her family were from there.

—Because of Zeke, his family grew up around Baseball, so he enjoys the sport. Because of his mother's Italian roots, he also grew up watching Formula 1 and rooting for team Ferrari. (However he was a fan of Lewis Hamilton and Mercedes, which offended his family that he was rooting for Mercedes. But they were finally happen when Lewis made the switch to Ferrari LOL)

—Eren is a big nerd. But if you've seen how hot his mother is and that he is practically a carbon copy of her, you wouldn't think he's a nerd. He's a big Star Wars and Lego nerd. He's one of those fans that can tell you everything about Star Wars, however, he isn't those one of those annoying fans that a lot of fandoms tend to have. He keeps his obsession of Star Wars at a minimum.

—He started wearing glasses his senior year of high school. He knew it would happen seeing as it happened to his dad, however, he didn't expect it to happen so soon. He wears those black square glasses, and he looks especially delectable when he wears it with his hair down hmmm. Without the glasses he looks like his mom but as soon as those bad boys are on, he kinda looks like his dad.

—Eren does smoke weed. His parents personally don't mind it but they aren't going to smoke it either (He has tried to convince his mom but his dad scolded him for trying to bribe her). Eren and his friends smoke weed, and Connie actually sells it with Onyankopon, who they all met when they began attending University.

—Eren is very clingy with the people that matter to him. Oh but he’s very clingy when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a child, and it has gotten worse as he’s gotten older, much to Carla’s annoyance. She begs god to give eren a partner so that he can leave her alone.

—Speaking of god. Eren grew up in a Catholic town and went to Catholic school. His parents are Catholic however they aren’t too extreme like a good chunk of Catholics can be. The reason he’s sympathetic towards humanity and fights for their right is because of his parents and how they raised him. They raised him to love others and be kind to others. Even if he has a bad relationship with the Catholic Church he still respects it enough

—Because he’s from a family of doctors he grew up upper middle class. He grew up comfortable enough that his parents didn’t have to worry about bills. He acknowledges that privilege and uses it to give back to the less fortunate.

—Eren can cook because Grisha forced him to learn from a young age. Told him that he wasn’t going to force a woman to cook just because society might tell him that that is what a woman’s role is. Grisha told his boys that they were to serve women because women are the backbones of family and deserve to he worshipped.

—Lord we love Grisha in this household because the reason Eren is such a pathetic loser lover boy is because of what he picked up on from Grisha. That man treats Carla like the Queen she is. Eren learned that he was going to treat his future partner the same way.

—Eren is the youngest. (My personal head-canon is that Ymir is related to the Jaegers). Zeke is the oldest, then Ymir, then Eren. Ymir and Eren are two year apart.

—Eren, like his other siblings, are afraid of Grisha. If Eren did something that he wasn’t supposed to do, it was mostly his mother who would find out, however depending on how bad it was, is who would be the punisher. If it was something that wasn’t bad like a bad grade or not cleaning his room, it would be his mother. But if Eren got into a fight—and he frequently did—his father would be the one punishing him.

—Grisha has this blank stare, which makes it hard to read his expression. The blank stare is intimidating, and when he begins to raise his voice, Eren nearly pees his pants. But what pisses Eren off about that is after the scolding and punishment, his father goes back to being a sweet man, especially towards Carla. Eren doesn’t understand how and why but he doesn’t question it out loud

—Across campus Eren is considered very attractive and popular with the girls. However, he doesn’t realize the attention he has on him, especially when it comes to women. You could have 7 ladies ready to drop their panties for him and there he is talking about Anakin Skywalker and why thats his favorite character. He’s an airhead when it comes to women.

—It doesn’t help that he has a slight German accent when he speaks English. Listen those ladies will do anything for a night with the Eren Jaeger, especially for a chance to hear him speak German. But the loser is thinking of how much money he has to save in order to buy a new Star Wars Collectible.

—He’s pretty fit. He’s one of those people that eats a shit ton of food and barely gain any weight. However he goes to the gym three times a week and keeps himself in shape. He’s got some good biceps and can bench press 275.

[nrdmssgs]

Best part of his life

Masterlist Angst Pairing: König X afab reader TW: No mentions of death, but this all is an allusion. AN: Sorry, guys, I know, you come here for comfort. I'll be back with it in some time, promise.

The best days of his life started with a mission. It was a huge success: he and his team were so effective, they managed to end a whole operation a week earlier than it was originally planned. König was proud of his men and happy to return home, return to her so soon.

He can barely restrain himself from calling her - he doesn't want to spoil the surprise. A bouquet of fresh cut flowers is lying on the seat next to him. König touches tender petals and smiles, remembering her soft lips. The lips, that he hasn't ever kissed yet, but this time he sure will - now that she confessed her feelings before his deployment - he is not afraid, that they are on the different pages.

König never noticed, how close to the KorTac base she lived. Previously, the journey from the base seemed endlessly long, but now he only managed to get on the train and barely look around - and it was already time for him to get off. For the first time, he isn't bothered by a crowded station, noisy streets and cars leaving little to no space on the sidewalks. All that matters now is his destination and fresh flowers with drops of morning dew on green leaves.

He doesn't have to knock on her door, as someone left it open. König slips into the hallway just before the front door slams shut by the wind.

"Schatzt?" He calls her, and, not receiving any answer, searches for her in every room.

He's already starting to worry when he finally gets to the kitchen. She sits at the table, staring straight ahead. Large tears roll down her cheeks.

"My love, what's wrong?" He lets go of the bouquet and rushes towards her. She doesn’t answer him - she just exhales and her whole body shakes with a strangled sob.

König takes her hands and kisses them. Once, then again and again... Then he turns his gaze to the table. In front of her lies an opened envelope from the KorTac.

"Verdamte Idioten, diese Mistkerle hätten mir diesen Brief schicken sollen, wahrscheinlich ist es nur eine Gehaltsabrechnung für das Finanzamt!*" Konig notices, he is shouting. She was always afraid, when someone raised a voice in her presence. But now, she doesn't flinch or cover her ears. She sits absolutely still, looking down.

"Oh no-no-no, I'm so sorry, Schatzi! I didn't mean to scare you, my poor little love. Here, look at me, I'm smiling, I'm happy, no drama here, I promise." She doesn't react to his words, so he continues to cover her hands in kisses, hugs her tightly, strokes her hair. In a desperate attempt to distract her, König cups her face and gives her a long and incredibly soft kiss on the lips. When he realizes what he just did, his heart skips a beat. He shuts his eyes for a long moment, too afraid to see fear and anger in her face. But when he finally looks back at her - she looks calm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want our first kiss to be this... out of blue, I guess." He presses his forehead to hers. "Its just... I've been dreaming about it since you sent me that message with confession. I was daydreaming to come back home and do it. I had this crush on you for god knows how long, but hadn't the guts to make the first move... A-a-a-and, I'm talking too much, yeah?"

He laughs, brings her closer and hides her subtle figure in a tight embrace. Peppering her face with kisses, he mumbles, "Don't worry, my love, I'll never leave you from now on. No more letters from KorTac - I won't come back to them. From now on, I'm yours. Only yours."

If anyone asked him - König won't be able to say, how did he grow so bold with physical touches suddenly. Must it's her charm, or he just never was so desperately in love before.

Every next day of his life is better than the last one. They walk together, he helps her learn German, tells her stories from his childhood, reads her his favorite books, or just lays his head on her lap, as she is watching TV, sitting on the sofa.

König couldn't ask for a better life. He is so happy with it - he is even ok with her crying sometimes and never setting her kitchen table for them two. He genuinely understands, how overwhelming this love can feel - König himself is ready to burst into happy tears every other minute, he sees her. So there is no big problem in him to drop whatever he is currently doing and rush to her when he hears sobs. And when he sees only one set of tableware ready... Who is he to judge - König lived alone for so long, he would probably do the same automatically. So he just chuckles, takes out another plate and sits near her.

At first, he hesitates to sleep in her bed. "It's ok, I'll spend this night on the couch," says he, watching, as she goes to a bathroom before going to sleep. But one night he wakes up from whispers from her bedroom.

"I'm so cold without you, König... So cold."

He gets up from the sofa, hesitantly approaches her bed, and freezes. No, he's not going to lunge at her the minute she lets him get closer. But he still remembers how scared she was when they first met. He obviously seemed too dangerous, too big, too strong. Now König is ready to do anything just to prove to her that he needs all this strength, all his skills in order to protect her. For her, he is absolutely harmless.

"Why aren't you here, under this blanket..."

"I... I didn't know, you... needed me." Suddenly his mouth goes dry. He carefully climbs under her blanket, presses against her back, and drowns in the sweet scent of her hair.

"I love you." He brushes hair from her face.

"You will never be alone. Never be cold again, I promise." His lips brush against the back of her neck.

"I won't ever hurt you, love." He holds her in the most tender and warm embrace and watches as she slowly falls asleep. König is happy that her body is no more as tense as it was every time, he stepped too close. He is so happy that he does not even notice how the morning comes.

For breakfast, she again sets the table only for herself. But this doesn't upset him. Nothing will ever upset him.

Verdamte Idioten, diese Mistkerle hätten mir diesen Brief schicken sollen, wahrscheinlich ist es nur eine Gehaltsabrechnung für das Finanzamt!* - Damn idiots, those bastards should have sent this letter to me, it's probably just a payslip for the tax office!*

[copia]

Get to Know Your Mutuals! tagged by @circle--of--confusion, tysm!! <3 (sorry it took me a while to do this)

what's the origin of your username? ...hehe (this one is obvious but my main is the name of a mediocre torchwood episode)

OTP(s) + shipname: not big into shipping tbh - for ghost i'll pick a ghoul who serves my nefarious purposes with the papa of the hour lmao

favourite colour: blue :3

song stuck in my head: do i have to say it (satanized!!!!!!!!)

weirdest habit/trait: i've got autism so weird traits are my diagnosis :/ i really enjoy getting piercings or blood tests/vaccinations which is apparently odd, and i'm so un-squeamish that it worries my mother

hobbies: besides yapping on the internet and looking at copia images (and writing/editing) i play piano and do muay thai! both are kind of difficult to access atm (there's only one piano on campus and my gym takes an hour to get to). i occasionally do western boxing too and have sailed a lot (dinghies & the odd yacht) but that's an impossibility with my current financial/academic situation

if you work, what's your profession? full time student atm, studying biomed engineering (electronics). i'm in my final year and am struggling. planning a potential career change to vet med but that'll have to be after a bit of work (& probably getting more lab experience)

if you could have any job you wish what would you have? vet!!! i'm back to where I was at 5 years old with that one. bad work experience put me off pursuing it straight out of school but i was an idiot 16 year old when i made that decision, and also didn't see a future for myself. i can see one now and i know what's right for it :D i'll be applying for accelerated grad courses next year if they'll accept my biomed (cough electronic cough engineering) degree for that

something you're good at: maths

something you hate: embedded programming and machine learning and signal processing and matlab and eagle pcb design oh my god dont get me started

something you collect: i don't collect anything but i do own 3 copies of the three musketeers. and i'll reach 4 i'm not messing around

something you forget: not much, not even nights out. i have autism

your love language: idk what counts as a love language tbh. i like being helpful or giving people things or generally doing something that makes them happy. but ig that's just what love is as a whole

favourite movies/shows: hannibal!!

favourite food: was rømmegrøt when i could still eat/access it but my current fav is laoganma chilli in oil ... laoganma BELOVED (my housemate gave me a cushion with laoganma printed on it with the corresponding maritime letter flags because she knows me very well)

favourite animal: my cat tommy (16yrs in these photos. isn't he stunning)

what were you like as a child? autistic

favourite subject in school: english!

least favourite subject: german, because it wasn't taught well (like any mfl in uk state schools from my experience) and nobody took it seriously

what's your best character trait? this one got me thinking because idk. but i think i'm very non-judgemental. got the mindset 'all people are people' to an extreme

what's your worst character trait? i can get quite jealous, and not to be tmi but the emotional dysregulation is bad. won't elaborate 😭

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? also a bit tmi but i'd love for my father to be a real one sometimes

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? the set of great-grandparents on my mother's side who i never got to meet :') they were my mum's real parents and i think i would have loved them

tagging (no pressure as per usual and i'm sorry if anyone here has already been tagged!)-- @unsettlingcreature @watertankafternoon @vpyre @delullu @lilspacewolfie @dolceterzo @sadistic-cardinal :3

[mzannthropy]

Rilla of Ingleside Book Club Chapter 5

It feels like I keep getting annoyed about everything (I swear, this is indeed one of my favourite books!) but please don't do this beating yourself about not being able to predict that one day you will live through a world war thing. I bet she was not the only teen in and around Glen who felt life was boring. (I mean, it probably was boring.) Cure for boredom is that you find something to do, or learn to appreciate the little things in life, but that's a discussion for another day. Anyway, back to the story.

Does it feel to anyone else like this chapter is a juxtaposition between honesty and pretence? Not lying for the sake of deceit, but pretending that you're okay with something, even if inside you're worried or scared. Anne, the twins, Faith Meredith, all wearing the stiff smiles, Rilla also acting like she's fine--but then she runs to Rainbow Valley to cry her heart out. Another point: she is honest in her diary about how she feels about children and notes that Gertrude Oliver is the most honest person she knows. And Gertrude is her favourite person. Then there's of course the heart-to-heart between her and Walter. This time around, getting what she wished for (being treated as a grown-up and Walter not going to the war) is not a devastating affair.

"[Jem and Jerry] laugh and talk about 'potting Huns'!"

Well, it's good that they do. It was necessary that men volunteered right at the start of the war and were enthusiastic about it too. For someone who doomdayed about Canada becoming a German colony in the previous chapter, Walter could at least admit that.

The dinner at Ingleside when Jem announced he is joining up is so well written! (It's always parties and dinners that get hit with shocking news, have you noticed?) Gilbert was proud of Jem, I'm sure of it. "Yes, Jem, if you feel that way, yes." It's different for a mother, of course, and we get an emotional callback to baby Joyce's death, but she knows he has to go.

"I am going to wash the dishes. That has to be done, even if everybody has gone crazy."

This one of my favourite lines in fiction ever. I quote it to myself all the time. I have made quite a ritual out of washing the dishes, I do it every night at around 10pm, so much so that my body does it automatically (the power of habits!). Whatever is going on, every night I will go wash the dishes, even if everybody has gone crazy. It's the reassurance of the domestic tasks that will always have to be done, war or famine. I think that's how Susan sees it too.

Now back what I said about honesty--Norman Douglas. That guy's a legend. He is not afraid to say what he thinks and you know what, I think that is why Mr Meredith likes him. Mr Meredith seems like the type of parson who prefers a honest heretic to a hypocritical believer. Norman and Ellen do make a good couple.

Oh also, I love that verse Anne quoted:

"When our women fail in courage, Shall our men be fearless still?"

It gives me thrills!

Side note: Rilla wrote to her diary that she thinks Jem and Faith are really engaged now--is this not something that would have been officially confirmed or announced? Why "think"?

[cheekybirb]

Idk if you'll answer this because it's a bit personal.

But how did you get into history? And how did you start writing? Is there any advice you could give to other writers

Oh of course!

My first interest in history started when I was little through being told my family's history. I'm part German, my bio dad's side of the family is very Greman and Jewish, and during WW2, they fled to the US and fought in the war on the American side. Being told that history at a young age made me want to know more.

But my love for pre colonial history started in 5th grade while I was in a unit about the Revolutionary War, (I was so hyper fixated on the Rev War it's insane) but I started to question life before that and that fell into my love for the witch trials in 6th grade.

And then freshman, sophomore, and junior year, thanks to the head of the art school I go to, I was able to learn facts about that time that would be censored in public schools.

At first, I was a visual artist, I liked to draw, paint, and work with ceramics. But I got into a bit of an accident freshman year and lost my talent to draw and do any of those things. But I still wanted to express myself. I am a HUGE book reader, and I loved how words could be used to paint a world, but I never went into fanfic writing until I came across Mera's fics. I loved the world building and the story buuut I didn't like how Caleb was characterized. So that made me want more fanfics.

And then I came across A Young Candle's Flame after being recommended it. And boy, was it something! It was a perfect balance between good descriptive writing and good character writing, and that was what gave me the courage to actually share my work. And later practice and make my own fame from it!

As for advice, the only thing I'll say is don't worry about what others think of you. I know that many people say that, but the truth is you can't have fun if you're too busy worrying about how others think of you, share your work! Be bold! Have fun! That's the best part of making art is taking risks! Trust me, you will find people who like it

Also, art takes time, writing takes time, don't do what I do and try to work on a deadline and get huge amounts of burnout 😅

[ego-meliorem-esse]

Do you hc America to speak other languages or is he a fully English bimbo? To my knowledge, NASA requires Russian fluency, I don't think many other US-government level agencies require another language but I could be wrong. I know Spanish translations of official documents are increasingly accessible but English is still the de facto language.

What I will say is that the notion that Alfred, as a superpower in the modern age, does not speaks several languages is absurd to me.

The languages i hc him to know, besides English, are:

Spanish - first and foremost. Though Alfred does have more of a Mexican dialect when speaking Spanish, which slightly annoys Antonio. As it should.

German - very good at it! Gets the accent almost perfect. For Alfred, German was one of those easier languages he learned. With most nations, Alfred speaks English. And not really because he doesn't want to or try to speak their language, but mostly because it's rare that other nations expect this dude to speak their native languages. Not with Gil tho! Their conversations are full of German-centric memes. Alfred is a big fan of Mitten im Leben. Unapologetically so! He knows enough German to understand the shitty acting in the show.

Mandarin - this on is very straight forward, it's good business. He uses it too much for diplomatic purposes to find joy and interest in speaking it. Sad really, as its a fascinating language.

Russian - also very straightforward, he works at NASA for commissions and contracts and its very common to speak it. Even besides that, the Cold War required it as well. His Spotify playlists are full of post communist songs of Russian, Polish, Yugoslav origins but he'll die before show it to anyone.

Japanese - He stutters and takes his time when speaking Japanese. He learned it but rarely uses it nowadays.

Korean - man, he tries. It's a relatively new language under Alfreds belt. But his problem is that he sounds very flat when speaking Korean. Nowadays he uses it more than Japanese though!

French - oh this is a very fun one for me to get into. Contrary to popular headcanoning, I hc him to struggle with it. He does understand most of verbal French, but as a child he started learning it and at that point he wasn't really all that interested in other languages. He had other shit keep his focus. So, while he did hear a large amount of it growing up, he had few attempts to speak it himself. Even during the American revolution, when he made his way across the pond to woo his french patrons, he was mostly spoken to in English. In their minds he was not very cultured. A mixed race country bumpkin putting his big boy pants on for the first time. As annoying that was for Alfred, he had other shit to worry about. And Matt rarely spoke French when living with Al and Arthur so there wasn't really an opportunity there for Alfred. This is one language that he is constantly passively learning, which is hilarious bc it's one of the first ones he should have known lol. I get that this is a very niche hc and makes little sense but i find joy in it. And also in François' frustration.

Plus a limited knowledge of other languages. Alfred is trying to make time to learn more languages, but finding time for it is a challenge.

I'll expand on Alfreds knowledge of both specific classifications of Algonquian and Iroquois languages in a later post.

All that said, Alfred is, in heart and soul, an "English bimbo" 🙏

[herdarkestnightelegance]

✨Prepare for an unsolicited info dump✨

I was tagged by @onlyancunin - thank you 🖤 Now let's do this.

Do you make your bed? Hahaha nope. Maybe Saturday morning, when my bad conscience forces me to take care of the things I let slide all week.

Favorite number? -7 (a good angle for placing objects in your designs imo)

What’s your job? Art Director in Advertising.

If you could go back to school would you? Oh I don't know. You mean like jump back a few decades? It would be fun for a week probably! Have stupid teenage fun, no cares about the future, only school? No pressure of social media? Sounds nice, doesn't it? But like, learn a new trade/job? There are things I would love to do but I am a nest-builder. I need my safety, and starting off new it too scary for me.

Can you parallel park? No driver's license, so no.

Do you think aliens are real? Little green men visiting us? No. Alien life? 1000%. How arrogant must one be to believe this planet is the only one with life on it in the vastness of the universe.

Can you drive a manual car? Still no driver's license, so no.

What’s your guilty pleasure? Corny German village pop music from the 90s. There's a time of the year when I listen to the songs my parents listened to when I was young and with no worries. If it sounds like a sunny barbecue during your summer holidays I'm in.

Tattoos? No. I wouldn't know what to get? The only thing I've loved long enough to consider putting on my skin forever is Lord of the Rings.

Favorite color? Black and Halloween Orange.

Favorite types of music? My taste in music depends a lot on the season. So I get the whole range from Singer/Songwriter, Electronic Music, Classic Rock, Viking chants, Classical music, Pop, Hip Hop - you name it.

Do you like puzzles? Only if they are not too difficult. I hate feeling stupid and inadequate 🤭

Any phobias? Not phobias, no. But I will slightly panic if a hornet gets to close. Oh, also? Fuck mold! The thought of having to touch moldy food? UGH!!!

Favorite childhood sport? I never played much sport. I'm a big girl. But I enjoyed ice skating the few times I've been.

Do you talk to yourself? I think the occasional phrase is uttered. But it's only saying thoughts out loud, no back and forth.

What movies do you adore? Lord of the Rings ✨. I can't count the number of times I have seen these movies in total. But I've seen Fellowship of the Rings at least 12 times on the big screen, including special screenings, open-air in castle ruins and with a live Orchestra. That does not count my frankly countless re-watches. I take one weekend each winter, just for myself, my couch, snacks, and all three movies. Extended, OBVIOUSLY. (Besides: the white-hair-pointy-ears-kink must have started somewhere)

Coffee or tea? I'm a coffee girl, or rather, "Milk with sweetener and some coffee"-girl. But a nice herbal tea is always welcome. And I have like 8 different brands of English Breakfast the in my cupboard.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? Not quite sure. I think a sculptor? We had these rocks in primary school, they were soooo easy to carve. And I enjoy it so much :) No pressure tags, if you're up for it: @nyx-knox @littlelovelore @vixstarria @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

[yaypawzz]

Hi! I'm Angel, it's nice to meet you! I'm a traditional artist currently in the process of learning drawing digitally, aswell as studying anatomy and poses. But I also started making music recently!

🌷〜 pronouns: she/they/fae

🌷〜 gender: unlabeled •⩊•

🌷〜 languages: english and german (but currently learning japanese and italian!)

🌷〜 what i do: art nd music! (mostly OC stuff, like OC-specific playlists or moodboards)

🌷〜 special interest: vocaloid (might draw fanart nd yap abt my fave songs) 丫 (๑��□°๑)丫

More stuff under the cut! It'll be about the content on here, rules and such!

↓ ↓ ↓ ↓

I have way too many ideas and they change way too often, so I decided not to categorize them anymore. If you stay for a bit and once I post more you'll figure it out I'm sure. But yeah, the project I'm currently working on is called "Phony" and a magical girl story so most of my uploads will be character and scene ideas for that.

Please keep in mind that some of my stories/characters might revolve around sensitive topics more suited for an older audience. I'm not saying minors shouldn't interact at all as I am a minor myself, but do proceed with caution and take warnings I give seriously. You can read everything on my blog at your own risk.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

Don't hesitate to ask me any and all questions you might have about my characters, stories and creative progress! I'd love to answer them.

I can also answer questions in character. For that, just mention who the question is for in the beginning. Addressing multiple characters is also fine!

This is not only a fun way to answer your questions but also good for me to flesh out my characters' personalities more!

Just remember to stay kind and respectful or you'll be blocked. The rules for interactions are below, make sure to follow them!

Rules/Permissions for Interactions:

You may!:

🌱〜 Make fanart of my characters. I think this goes without saying, but if you consider yourself a beginner or "bad" artist, don't worry! I really appreciate anything I receive, plus it'll be good practice for you. Remember to credit though! And please tag me, I wanna see it ( •̤ ꒳ •̤ )

🌱〜 Write fanfictions using my characters, as long as you credit and don't make it sexual. Again, please tag me!

🌱〜 Cosplay my characters. Third time saying this, but please please please tag me!

🌱〜 Be inspired by my work. You're allowed to reference it!

🌱〜 Ask me for tips on art, character/story writing and world building. I'm always happy to help out as much as I can!

🌱〜 Make headcanons of my OCs and create ships as long as they're not NSFW, incest or proshipping!

You may not!:

🥀〜 Ask any overtly sexual or offensive questions! You'll get blocked for that.

🥀〜 Ask me about specific details outside of the internet. I'm fine with answering questions about my interests, inspiration, who I look up to, my hobbies and stuff like that, but nothing about my family, friends, school performance, exact location, real name or anything too personal. This won't result in an immediate block, but if a user does it too many times I will take action.

🥀〜 Compare my art, characters and music to that of others. I know it may not be amazing yet, but I'm still improving. It doesn't help if you compare it to the work of someone else, so don't do that.

🥀〜 Be impatient/spam me if I take some time to answer a question. I still have a life outside of tumblr so cut me some slack. Oh, and in-character questions may take longer because I might decide to draw them.

🥀〜 Repost/trace my art without giving proper credit, repost my music without credit and copy my story ideas. They're mine, not yours. I'll block and report you for that on whatever social media you decide to do it.

🥀〜 Feed my art to AI. I think this is self-explanatory, but if you have a question about it feel free to ask in a respectful way. If I find out you did this I will block and report you.

🥀〜 Ask me if I can sell my art to you. I don't take commissions, I don't sell anything, this is purely for fun. And if you're an NFT person I'm gonna outright block you because I want nothing to do with that.

DNI!:

🍂〜 Profiles without a profile picture. Please get one, else I'm gonna assume you're a bot.

🍂〜 Purely NSFW accounts. It's okay if you draw it or write a fanfic about it every once in a while, but if your account is centered around NSFW content then please don't interact, I'm a minor.

I really hope we can all get along here, I want this to be a positive environment! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Additional Links:

💐〜 Compass (links to all posts I made)

💐〜 Artfight (an annual event centered around exchanging fanart of OCs between two teams; read more about it on the website or watch a youtube video about it!)

💐〜 Pinterest (for OC boards)

I probably won't be very active on tumblr, but we'll see.

Thank you for reading! I hope you have an amazing day or night! ☆

[variousqueerthings]

@autistic-puffin Alright, one episode left of season 1 [insert screaming]

So, some of my favourite things about nine:

the way they're clearly relearning how to interact with any kind of person, only really good at conversation at the beginning if there's danger

doctor internal monologue: "what would be the best thing to show rose - a woman I've just met - to make her think I'm so cool? I know, I'll show her her planet exploding!"

the fact that they're really so fragile and learning to be again and scared of rose leaving them on the one hand, but on the other is so scared of getting too close (the "domestics") and opening up for fear of what will happen (and what happens... well, we know...)

but also will have a whole trauma response the second time they ever met ("we're falling through time, you and me, and if we let go...")

in retrospect with the war doctor, the way they interact with the dalek in the last sequence of that first episode almost feels like they can't access those memories, like there's that "version" of them locked in some part that could have been re-released if not for rose, but what's left is these half-spoken sentences that just trail off and into "oh rose. they're all dead." and that sense is there anyway, but as a metaphor with the later war doctor reveal, that performance hurts all the more

the way they smile when they say "fantastic" is like a new person being revealed

nine knew from early on in the episode "father's day" that the way to save everyone was for rose's dad to sacrifice himself, and never even had it as a consideration, never mentioned it to anyone, even said they had no idea what to do (until the tardis key), even though that was an option

"It's brilliant! I'm not sure if it's Marxism in action or a West End musical."

(in reference to wwii) "Beat the Germans, save the world - don't forget the welfare state!"

this is reading into it, because I fully didn't realise all those dancing references in empty child/doctor dances were meant to be sexual (the bits about jack, sure, but all of them? and it doesn't even make sense, anyway) point being, I always read it as a way of showing the doctor coming back into themself, learning to hope and have fun and not always worry about the other shoe dropping. joie de vivre as it were. so I love the bit at the end where nine says they can dance and I will continue to read it as I always have done

nine's very direct way of inspiring people and seeing people once they've started coming out of their shell -- the way they talk to the bride-and-groom-to-be in father's day, to cathica in the long game, to jabe, to gwenyth, to harriet jones, to nancy, to lynda with a y (also so often it's women in RTD's stories). the journey nine goes on is so vast, from rebuffing rose several times in the first episode and thinking the worst of people, to remembering why people are amazing and inspiring better versions of them

I'm always somehow just. sad. and touched. by the way nine talks about the pig that was experimented on and then shot. they were so upset by the callousness of it. nine cares about peoples names as well. they're consciously making a point of life and death mattering

by contrast the conversation with blon in "boom town" about being a killer. nine is doing better, consciously. nine has seen violence on a massive scale and is choosing not to perpetuate that and is learning (also in contrast to "dalek")

by the time "lynda with a y" came into the picture it was like they were ready for a whole family -- rose, jack, the more the merrier

and coming up I know in the last episode: "Coward or killer?" "Coward." and "you were fantastic, you know that. absolutely fantastic. and you know what? so was I."

generally nine was so imbued with a sense of vulnerability that's begging to be seen and coming from being so raw and hurt and closed to the beauty of living because of the violence they've experienced, and then relearning it and re-embracing the classic ethos of dw, as well as that fair play for all idealism that feels quite inspired in some ways by eccleston's own socialism and rtd's ideals (did enjoy the "no third term for thatcher" socialist signposts to indicate the 80s, I feel like we need to bring that energy back into dw again)

[into-september]

Lost scene from the film uncovered in tie-in novel: The Gorilla canonically speaks words, Nathalie worries about Adrien, Adrien has some Thoughts about his father while Gabriel does it all because he can't stand to see Adrien so sad

From the German tie-in novel to the film, translated by yours truly and yes I AM skipping unimportant things too wonky to fit into English sentences without a lot of thinking.

Now, this scene is interesting in the way it pulls in backstory that isn't obvious from the film but seems instead to be taken from the TV show. Some of it comes across as kind of contradictory to the film's depiction of the involved, but there's some interesting depth given to Adrien and Gabriel's relationship in the film in here

CONTINUATION OF THE SCENE WHERE NINO INVITES ADRIEN TO THE FAIR:

Before Adrien could reply, a gigantic figure appeared behind them.

"Monsieur Agreste," it rumbled. It was Adrien's bodyguard.

Nino cowered in fear. "I didn't see the Frankenstein behind me," he quipped.

"See you later," Adrien said and followed his bodyguard outside.

"Don't forget the fair tomorrow!" he heard Nino call after him.

His father's fancy limousine was already waiting in front of the school. Adrien let his body fall against the seat - facing Nathalie, his father's assistant.

"How was your first day, Adrien?" she asked.

"Good, thanks for asking," he replied.

"And... did you make any friends?" she continued the topic.

Adrien instantly thought about the girl in the library. She was funny. And a bit weird. And cute. And Nino seemed pretty nice.

"Oh well, I have..." he started, but then he interrupted himself. It would be better to keep his new aquaintances secret. Who know what would happen if his father learned about it. He would only sentence Adrien to stay at home again.

"No, I haven't," Adrien replied, "I'd rather be alone."

"Well, you won't be alone this evening. You'll have supper with your father," Nathalie announced with an encouraging smile.

"Really? My father is there?" Adrien asked in disbelief.

His father, Gabriel Agreste, was the most successful fashion designer in Paris. The whole world followed his creations, his sketches, his collections, and his father was usually travelling the the whole world. When he wasn't off presenting his newest work somewhere, he usually locked himself into his office. Everyone knew his father - only Adrien felt like he didn't know him at all anymore. Because of that, he didn't allow himself to be too excited at Nathalie's announcement. So far, his father had always managed to disappoint him.

(meanwhile Gabriel is off getting onimous jewelry at the Louvre)

As usual, Adrien had spent the afternoon alone in his room. He couldn't stop the growing hope that maybe he really would get have supper with his father. His father was the only familiy Adrien had left after his mother's death, and he missed the feeling of having a family. To have someone he could talk to about his day, his fears and his sorrows. He knew of course that his father probably would never be that person, but a dinner together could always be a beginning.

He suddenly heard his father enter through the front door on the floor below. He recognised his steps. Adrien ran straight to the stairs as he heard the voices of his father and Nathalie. The two of them stood in the foyer and didn't notice him. Adrien kept quiet and listened.

"First thing tomorrow is an important interview," he heard Nathalie say. Her hands held tight to the schedule. Adrien sometimes wondered if she was afraid of his father.

"Good. Thank you, Nathalie," Gabriel Agreste absently replied. "Was there anything else?"

"Dinner with your son, Monsieur."

"No. I'm busy," he countered.

"He needs his father," Nathalie carefully tried to convince him.

Gabriel Agreste impatiently snubbed his assitant: "Mind your own business!" [note: comes across as far less rude in German]

With those words, he disappeard into his office and locked the door behind him. Nathalie kept silent for a moment, and then she turned around - and discovered Adrien on the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Adrien," she said.

Adrien just shrugged. "I know how it is."

(he mourns Emilie's absence, regretfully without wistful memories in decrepit theatre stages but does make clear she was a stage actor)

Behind the doors of his office, Gabriel Agreste sat at his desk and stared at an old family photo, lost in thought.

How happy the three once had been. He missed his beloved wife Emilie so much. And what had become of this cheerful, happy child? As a father, he had without a doubt failed miserably.

If there was someone who missed Emilie more than him, it was Adrien.

(he goes down to monologue at Emilie's corpse in true show!Gabriel fashion)

"I can't stand the sadness in his eyes."

He once again thought about the family photo, of his once happy family and about the peculiar piece of jewelry, which he now held as hope in his hands.

And then, his eyes one last time on his unconscious wife, he spoke: "If this piece of jewelry really has the power to bring you back... then I'll burn the world and lose myself in the flames. He needs you more than me, Emilie."

[gayarograce]

🌻

(Oh man, the mortifying ordeal of actually having to pick something to talk about when I have so many ideas...)

Uh, OK, I'm talking about galactic algorithms, I've decided! Also, there are some links peppered throughout this post with some extra reading, if any of my simplifications are confusing or you want to learn more. Finally, all logarithms in this post are base-2.

So, just to start from the basics, an algorithm is simply a set of instructions to follow in order to perform a larger task. For example, if you wanted to sort an array of numbers, one potential way of doing this would be to run through the entire list in order to find the largest element, swap it with the last element, and then run though again searching for the second-largest element, and swapping that with the second-to-last element, and so on until you eventually search for and find the smallest element. This is a pretty simplified explanation of the selection sort algorithm, as an example.

A common metric for measuring how well an algorithm performs is to measure how the time it takes to run changes with respect to the size of the input. This is called runtime. Runtime is reported using asymptotic notation; basically, a program's runtime is reported as the "simplest" function which is asymptotically equivalent. This usually involves taking the highest-ordered term and dropping its coefficient, and then reporting that. Again, as a basic example, suppose we have an algorithm which, for an input of size n, performs 7n³ + 9n² operations. Its runtime would be reported as Θ(n³). (Don't worry too much about the theta, anyone who's never seen this before. It has a specific meaning, but it's not important here.)

One notable flaw with asymptotic notation is that two different functions which have the same asymptotic runtime can (and do) have two different actual runtimes. For an example of this, let's look at merge sort and quick sort. Merge sort sorts an array of numbers by splitting the array into two, recursively sorting each half, and then merging the two sub-halves together. Merge sort has a runtime of Θ(nlogn). Quick sort picks a random pivot and then partitions the array such that items to the left of the pivot are smaller than it, and items to the right are greater than or equal to it. It then recursively does this same set of operations on each of the two "halves" (the sub-arrays are seldom of equal size). Quick sort has an average runtime of O(nlogn). (It also has a quadratic worst-case runtime, but don't worry about that.) On average, the two are asymptotically equivalent, but in practice, quick sort tends to sort faster than merge sort because merge sort has a higher hidden coefficient.

Lastly (before finally talking about galactic algorithms), it's also possible to have an algorithm with an asymptotically larger runtime than a second algorithm which still has a quicker actual runtime that the asymptotically faster one. Again, this comes down to the hidden coefficients. In practice, this usually means that the asymptotically greater algorithms perform better on smaller input sizes, and vice versa.

Now, ready to see this at its most extreme?

A galactic algorithm is an algorithm with a better asymptotic runtime than the commonly used algorithm, but is in practice never used because it doesn't achieve a faster actual runtime until the input size is so galactic in scale that humans have no such use for them. Here are a few examples:

Matrix multiplication. A matrix multiplication algorithm simply multiplies two matrices together and returns the result. The naive algorithm, which just follows the standard matrix multiplication formula you'd encounter in a linear algebra class, has a runtime of O(n³). In the 1960s, German mathematician Volker Strassen did some algebra (that I don't entirely understand) and found an algorithm with a runtime of O(n^(log7)), or roughly O(n^2.7). Strassen's algorithm is now the standard matrix multiplication algorithm which is used nowadays. Since then, the best discovered runtime (access to paper requires university subscription) of matrix multiplication is now down to about O(n^2.3) (which is a larger improvement than it looks! -- note that the absolute lowest possible bound is O(n²), which is theorized in the current literature to be possible), but such algorithms have such large coefficients that they're not practical.

Integer multiplication. For processors without a built-in multiplication algorithm, integer multiplication has a quadratic runtime. The best runtime which has been achieved by an algorithm for integer multiplication is O(nlogn) (I think access to this article is free for anyone, regardless of academic affiliation or lack thereof?). However, as noted in the linked paper, this algorithm is slower than the classical multiplication algorithm for input sizes less than n^(1729^12). Yeah.

Despite their impracticality, galactic algorithms are still useful within theoretical computer science, and could potentially one day have some pretty massive implications. P=NP is perhaps the largest unsolved problem in computer science, and it's one of the seven millennium problems. For reasons I won't get into right now (because it's getting late and I'm getting tired), a polynomial-time algorithm to solve the satisfiability problem, even if its power is absurdly large, would still solve P=NP by proving that the sets P and NP are equivalent.

Alright, I think that's enough for now. It has probably taken me over an hour to write this post lol.

[danaan13]

I don't remember how long I had been staring blankly at the weird inky expanse that stood at the edge of town. But it must've been a while.

At least long enough that someone came out of the void. Or something. It was hard to determine what I was seeing. Their form seemed to shift shapes, as if in response to the way I watched it.

But I quickly settled on 'someone' when it spoke to me. "Hey uh... Are you going to come inside and buy something, or what? You've been staring at us all day. And frankly, you're disturbing the other customers."

I was stunned to learn I'd been staring at a store. And that I'd made them uncomfortable. Stunned enough that falling back on politeness was the only course of action that made sense. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Of course," I said, moving to step towards the void expanse.

The being nodded. Or something like a nod. And then went through what I could now discern was a door. I followed them inside and found a bookstore.

A different being stepped close then. "Welcome to Yuki's International Book Emporium. Are you looking for something specific or would you prefer to browse on your own?"

I looked around a bit and then slowly asked, "Have you got anything that has a good marionberry pie recipe in it? Season's coming. I promised my little brother I'd learn how. But the local baker won't teach me."

The sales clerk seemed to perk up, their wiggliness coming in rounder waves now. "Oh, how sweet of you! We've got a great cookbook section over here."

I followed them to said section, surprised to see cookbooks in languages from all over the world. The clerk looked over them then and asked, "Which languages do you read?"

I fidgeted and answered, "Just english. Always wanted to learn German though."

They bobbed a wobbly nod and then tugged down two books. "Both of these authors have won awards for their pastry recipes. The second one is a little more intermediate, but has some great advice on berries. Would you like a beginners book for learning German too?"

I started to smile a bit then. "I... Yeah. That sounds great. And if you got something for beginner's engineering? My brother wants to learn how to build things."

The clerk seemed to give what felt like a very warm smile. "Of course! Follow me!"

I left a little poorer but richer in books and in mood. I came to the void with dashed hopes and worries about caring for my brother. And I left with new tools. And new friends. Lilah and Bennie had both been very kind. Comforting even, when I talked about losing our parents last fall. But they encouraged me. Said I could always come to them for help. Even if all they could do was point me to a book.

And when I stopped at the edge of town and looked back, the void looked a lot less dark and indecipherable. And a lot more like a quiet corner of the village. Though, perhaps still a little less well lit. I smiled and went home to tell my brother about it all. I had a feeling he'd be excited about their after school book club.

“I have stared into the abyss not just long enough for it to stare back. But for it to get uncomfortable and ask me to stop”

[guiltypleasurefandomface]

I had two very detailed dreams last night. They weren't related to each other at all but clearly relevant to me.

The first was that I was working in some way related to a film being filmed in a train station - sort of looked like Lims Street in one direction and an older one with wooden slatting in another, with Tudor style facade you see in Chester on the walls. And I had to keep telling people that yes although there were trains on the track they weren't actually going anywhere because this line wasn't in use today, we were filming. Please go to wherever and get a train from there. And people argued!! And they wanted to just get on and see if it went anyway. Just incase. Like, no!! We've got the set ready, the trains are definitely not going anywhere. If the trains start moving, our actors and director would have more to worry about than just remembering lines and keeping the lens clean.

I honestly had held of my hair and was pulling on it like some cartoon characters, because these people were so infuriating. So then someone came up beside me and said "excuse me" and I whirled around and I said to them No!! You can't get on the train!! It's not going to your destination, it's not going to any destination!! It is parked up whilst we film. Sorry for the inconvenience, take it up with the director!!

And it was Brian May. For some reason he was interested in taking a couple of photos of the train whilst it was empty. Whoops. Sorry Brian.

I don't know if we let him in or not.

The second dream I was travelling down south to somewhere coastal so it could have been Devon or Cornwall or Dover, I don't know. But I was on a coach and we had to get off. We were only allowed to continue our journey if we could prove we could contribute something positive to the area. And I was panicking because, I'm chronically ill, I sleep around the clock in catnaps, I'm not fit or healthy and I'm not very physically capable in an emergency. I can't built houses, I can't do maths, I'm bad at geography and I have no full qualifications to my name. And my friend was like "you can speak German"

I can't speak German.

And my friend was saying I should just throw all of what I know at the lady. How's she gonna know that it's not fluent German?

So she comes to me, and she looks like Angelica Huston for the record, circa Daddy Day Care, and asks what I can contribute and I was like, I can speak German? And she went oh brilliant, can you prove it?

So I went something like Ich mochte vier erdbeeran bitte. Meine hund mochte kase nie Aber Der bär spielt füßball. Hast du geld für Der u-bahn? Es ist so taur jetzt. (Thank you Duolingo)

And she looks at me like... Wow she fucking does speak German, I wasn't expecting that. Then tells me very good, I can continue my journey. I get back on the coach. My friend, who can play a number of instruments and draw anything you ask her to, was not allowed because the only thing to hand to prove she has these talents was the spoons, and they weren't impressed by her playing the spoons.

Anyway I am disappointed to share that despite my subterfuge I can't actually speak German fluently and I have given up temporarily because I got too disheartened to continue. I may speak the German words but I'm messing up the grammar and sentence construction all the time and I just can't learn my way through it.