#went to berlin today

[flowerygn]

I saw nct dream tonight !

[sunnyfrisch]

pre-käärijä gig vs post-6+ hour train ride home and on my way to work because yes i did very much arrive back in düsseldorf at 6:45 am and went straight to the office

[beachboysnatural]

This week has been fucking crazy actually and I deserve to do fuck all today

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece I: Definition

Part II Full essay posted on AO3 here

“Romanticism is the star which weeps” —Alfred de Musset

One Piece is a Romance. It’s the title of the opening chapter as well as the first volume, and was liked enough by Oda that he recycled it for the first chapter and volume after the time skip. Sprinkled throughout the story Luffy and others will declare certain moments to be romantic. But what does that actually mean?

If you go to website for Mirriam-Webster and scroll down to the fourth definition, you’ll read that romance is “a: marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized 

b: often capitalized : of, relating to, or having the characteristics of romanticism”

It’s this second aspect of romance that I want to focus on today, because while One Piece is imaginative, and emotional, and adventurous, the roots of the manga dig much deeper than these superficial traits and tap into the much bigger movement that at one point dominated the Western World. 

As with many things, Romanticism is a concept that at its face seems quite simple, but the more you try to pin down specifics the more it squirms into something amorphous and difficult to define. In his lectures on Romanticism, Isaiah Berlin described it as, “the greatest single shift in consciousness of the West” before spending an entire hour of his introductory lecture trying to distill it down to its purest essence. In the Romantic movement we find our modern ideas of imagination, childhood, and sentimentality. Its influence dominated everything from politics, philosophy, poetry, literature, art, music and architecture. From the Romantics was born the Nationalism of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, which would lead to tragic results in the 20th. It spanned Europe and America, the Western world alight with hope after the French Revolution only to watch with horror as it was followed by the Reign of Terror, Napoleon, and the wars he brought to the rest of the continent. 

Pinpointing dates is difficult, but for simplicity’s sake it’s easiest to put it as lasting from approximately the mid 1700s through the mid to late 1800s. As Romanticism was a pan-European movement, it didn’t hit every place at the same time. It swept from France through Europe and eventually America at its own pace, blooming and dying independently of one another, with various precursor movements such as the Storm and Stress era in Germany, as well as holdovers lasting well after the golden age ended, the last embers clinging on until the First World War. Romanticism picked up the local flavor of wherever it went, the Romantic ideals of France related but not identical to the Romantic ideals of Germany, just as the Romanticism of William Wordsworth wasn’t the same as the Romanticism of Lord Byron. 

When attempting to define Romanticism, it is perhaps easiest to see it in what it was trying to push back against. As with every movement, the Romantics were in conversation with the past, in their case the Enlightenment thinkers of the 17th and early 18th centuries. The Enlightenment as a movement is just as difficult to pin down as the Romantics, but on the whole it said that there was one, specific way men should live their lives, that there was a formula for happiness and improvement of the human condition using reason, science, and an appropriate methodology. While the various Enlightenment figures all disagreed what that methodology was, for the most part they all agreed that it existed. It favored cold, hard logic, a celebration of science and of learning, and was hopeful for a future where humanity could better itself through its own effort by understanding the universe in which it lived. 

The Romantics looked at all of this, and said…no. 

There are other factors to consider when discussing Romanticism, such as the increase in urbanization following the Industrial Revolution and the political instability brought on by corrupt, crumbling monarchies and the revolutions they spurned, but in my mind this defiant no is the beating heart of Romanticism. It’s a philosophy that emphasizes the self over all, prioritizing feeling over reason and experience over logic. In fact, to the Romantic, there was no knowledge without feeling.

Institutions such as the church lost some of their power even as the Romantics became more obsessed with spirituality and the occult. The idealized, pastoral past of their beloved romantic ballads was yearned for even as revolts broke out against the monarchies that ruled in those stories of old. There was veneration of the child and the so-called Noble Savage, who were free from the corrupting forces of society and civilization. Freedom was the rallying cry, with abolition, women’s, and animal rights movements all stirring within this time period, but there was no greater freedom than the freedom of self. To do what you wanted when you wanted to do it.

There was a preoccupation with individual genius, and there was little that could bolster one’s career more than living fast and dying young. The Romantic world was one where death was frightfully common, with the increased density of the rapidly growing cities leading to frequent breakouts of disease even as populations boomed. Nearly half of children didn’t live to see their fifth birthday, and for those who did survive to adulthood, the political instability of the time made the future seem uncertain. Better then, to reject the all-consuming industry of the modern age and the cities that seemed to destroy more than they built in favor of spending time alone in the glories of nature and their own imagination, living as they pleased, beholden to no one but their own conscience. 

You’ll notice in the examples that I quote that most are white men and most of these men were well-educated. It’s a simple fact that the opportunities they were afforded were different than women and people of color, and their voices were amplified as a result. While there’s been increasing scholarship in recent years to diversify the canon, and there’s good fruit to be found in that regard, it must be acknowledged that the worldview shaped by the most famous Romantics is limited by this singular perspective.

That being said, there can be a more universal application to Romanticism, and One Piece proves that. The defiant no to the binding chains of society and the enthusiastic yes of personal freedom is something that we all feel at one point or another, and it’s what makes up the core of One Piece. Romanticism is a cosmic wanderlust, the ability to poeticize everything both great and small, the neverending search for, well…that depends on the person. But the important part is that they do search and they do dream. And it’s that search that I want to explore in more detail as I dig into specific aspects of Romanticism, and how One Piece applies.

[itsyveinthesky]

You are turning 3 today.

In January and February I took you to Lappland for the first time. @brilliantyears and I like to spend part of the winter there and you loved it of course, after all you are a Finnish Lapphund.

Later in February and early March we were in the South of France and drove up the Atlantic coast to Carcassonne and La Rochelle.

We went to Norway and Sweden in summer and spend the long days hiking and meeting friends we hadn’t seen in a long time.

We spent time at both the German North Sea and Baltic coast and of course you braced every day life with me in Berlin.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

Thanks for being at my side. I love you my sweet girl ❤️

[ind1g3n0us-lev1t3]

@elenajones23 first of all, who are you, a non Jew to lecture me about what my religion does or doesn’t allow? Who are you to tell me, as someone who doesn't practice the same religion, that I can or cannot do things?

The Torah isn’t a simple set of guidelines and commands, it’s far more complex than that. It has different interpritations, so saying the torah doesn't allow it is blatantly false. The name "Zion" (Promised land) is mentioned 154 times.

“It isn’t your land and it never was your land” bullshit.

We absolutely do have a land, if we don't, then why do we have holy sights in Jerusalem? Why are names like "Jaffa" and "Haifa" Hebrew?

The land of Israel is where my ancestors came from, it is where they lived, it is where they had a connection to, and it is where they suffered under the romans and were exiled.

We were never welcomed in Europe, we were never welcomed in the rest of the middle east.

These are ancient scrolls called the "Dead sea scrolls" which are a set of ancient Jewish writings dating from the 3rd century BCE.

This is all of what remains of our ancient temple, this is what it once was:

The first temple is Solomon's temple, the second one is Herod's temple, which was destroyed in 70CE by the romans. centuries later, the Muslim caliphates built the Al Aqsa mosque which was built on top of our temple mount. Today, the west wall is all we have left of this historic holy place.

The name "Palestine" was given to the land of Israel by roman colonisers who exiled most of us from the land of Israel, took many of us slaves, and scattered everyone else through western Europe (Some moved further east).

Now about the Nazis = Zionist argument. The Nazis originally made a deal with German Zionist Jews (The Haavara agreement) to bring about a mass migration from Germany to Israel, it should be mentioned that this was because Hitler and the Nazis wanted a Jew-Free Europe, not because the Nazis supported Zionism.

This deal was criticized by both Nazis and Zionists. Zionist criticised it because it made a deal with the devil, and the Nazis criticised it because it went against their philosophy.

The Nazis were extremely antizionist, the belief that they were Zionists is soviet cold war propaganda to demonise the state of Israel and the broader Jewish community. They believed that Jews were biologically incapable of running their own state and were too inferior. Hitler had a "Palestinian" friend (Amin al-Husseini) who campaigned in Berlin, fought for a Palestinian state, and even CONTRIBUTED TO THE HOLOCAUST. They also lead a boycott of Jewish businesses in "Palestine".

So, you're wrong. So very very wrong. You can try to lecture me about the history of my own people and religion all you want, but you're wrong.

Please, kindly fuck off and read a history book. Please attend a Synagogue service and learn more about our religion before you come spewing false bullshit about it.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[andy-15-07]

A Love Unscripted

Summary: Daniel and Y/N, co-stars on a film set, experience an intense connection that quickly blossoms into love. As they navigate their deepening relationship, they find that their off-screen romance becomes the greatest story of their lives.

Paring: Daniel Brühl x reader

Words count: 2907

Daniel Brühl Masterlist | Masterlist

It was a bright, crisp morning in Berlin, and the air buzzed with excitement as the cast and crew gathered for the first day of shooting. This was no ordinary film set—this was the next big project from a critically acclaimed director, and everyone knew it had the potential to be a masterpiece. The title of the film, still under wraps, hinted at a deep, emotional journey that would challenge both the actors and the audience.

Y/N arrived on set with a mix of nerves and excitement, feeling the weight of this opportunity. It was their first major role, and although they had done their fair share of indie films and theater, this was different. The script had resonated deeply with Y/N when they first read it, and they knew this role could be a turning point in their career.

As Y/N stepped out of their trailer, adjusting the costume that already felt like a second skin, they noticed a familiar face on set. Daniel Brühl was speaking with the director, his warm, easygoing smile lighting up his features. Y/N had always admired Daniel’s work from afar—the subtlety of his performances, the way he could convey so much with just a glance or a slight change in his expression. Meeting him in person, however, was something they hadn’t quite prepared for.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to where Daniel and the director were chatting. As they approached, the director noticed Y/N and smiled broadly. "Ah, Y/N! Perfect timing. Come meet your co-star."

Daniel turned towards Y/N, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes met Y/N’s, and there was an unmistakable spark—a connection that went beyond the usual pleasantries of a first meeting. Daniel’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put Y/N at ease.

“Hi, I’m Daniel,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” they replied, shaking his hand. The touch lingered a bit longer than necessary, and Y/N felt a strange but pleasant flutter in their chest.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Daniel continued, his voice smooth and genuinely kind. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to ignore the heat rising to their cheeks. “Well, I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” Daniel said, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I watched some of your previous work. You’re really talented.”

Y/N was caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

Before the conversation could continue, the director clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s get started! We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

The first scene they were shooting was a pivotal one—an intense confrontation between Y/N and Daniel’s characters. The air was charged with anticipation as the crew set up the shot. Y/N took their position, trying to focus on the character’s emotions, but found themselves distracted by the fact that Daniel was standing so close.

Daniel, sensing Y/N’s nervousness, leaned in slightly and whispered, “Don’t worry, just be in the moment. We’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. As soon as the director called “Action,” the transformation was instantaneous. Y/N slipped into their character’s mindset, and the world around them faded away. The scene required them to confront Daniel’s character, emotions running high as they delivered their lines with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.

Daniel was incredible. His performance was raw, powerful, and it drew Y/N in, making it easy to react naturally. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and it crackled with intensity, as if they had known each other for years instead of mere minutes.

When the director finally called “Cut,” there was a moment of stunned silence on set. Y/N blinked, coming back to reality, and noticed that the crew was staring at them with something like awe. The director had a wide grin on his face.

“That was fantastic!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “The chemistry between you two is electric. If we can capture even a fraction of that in every scene, we’ve got something truly special here.”

Y/N glanced over at Daniel, who was still looking at them with that same warm smile. “You were amazing,” he said softly, his eyes full of admiration.

“So were you,” Y/N replied, feeling the flutter in their chest return.

As the day progressed, the initial nerves melted away. Daniel and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm, their connection both on and off-screen growing stronger with each take. Between scenes, they would chat about everything from their favorite films to their experiences growing up in different parts of the world. They discovered they had a lot in common—a shared love for classic cinema, a penchant for exploring new places, and a mutual respect for the craft of acting.

During lunch, they found themselves sitting together, away from the rest of the cast and crew. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt natural, as if they had always gravitated toward each other. As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and the occasional teasing remark.

“You know,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair, “I didn’t expect to meet someone who’s as passionate about cinema as I am.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in their heart. “I could say the same about you. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s rare to find someone who really understands what it’s like to lose yourself in a role, to feel that connection with the character and the story. I can tell you’re someone who does.”

Y/N looked at Daniel, their eyes meeting once again. There was something in his gaze that made their heart skip a beat—an intensity, a depth that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if they were seeing each other, truly seeing each other, for the first time.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice soft but sincere. “There’s something about this project, about working with you… It feels different. Special.”

Daniel’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his hand gently covering Y/N’s. “I feel it too,” he said quietly. “I think this could be the start of something really wonderful.”

The rest of the shoot passed in a blur. Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, Y/N and Daniel’s connection deepened. Their scenes together were electric, filled with a chemistry that was palpable to everyone on set. Off-camera, they spent more and more time together, often finding excuses to stay late after a day of shooting just to talk, to be in each other’s company.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, they decided to take a walk around the city. The night was cool, the streets quiet as they wandered aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing. Daniel seemed more relaxed than usual, his usual charisma softened by the late hour and the intimacy of the moment.

As they walked along the Spree River, the moonlight reflecting off the water, Daniel suddenly stopped. Y/N, who had been in the middle of a story, turned to look at him in surprise.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, concerned.

Daniel smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling up inside them. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The question caught Y/N off guard. They stared at Daniel, their mind racing. Did they believe in love at first sight? They had always thought it was something that only happened in movies, in the stories they told on screen. But as they looked into Daniel’s eyes, so full of sincerity and something deeper, something that felt a lot like love, they found themselves reconsidering.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied honestly. “But… I think I might be starting to.”

Daniel’s smile widened, and without another word, he took a step closer. The distance between them disappeared as he gently cupped Y/N’s face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. Y/N’s breath caught in their throat as Daniel leaned in, his lips brushing theirs in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and full of unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to fade away in that moment. There was no film set, no crew, no cameras—just the two of them, standing by the river, lost in each other. The kiss deepened, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through their entire body, a sense of rightness, of inevitability, as if this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared a quiet moment of connection.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we met,” Daniel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, their heart full. “So have I.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. It was a perfect moment, the kind that Y/N had only ever experienced in the movies they loved so much. But this wasn’t a script, and this wasn’t a role. This was real, and it was happening to them.

As they walked back to their hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like they were living in a dream. But it was better than any dream they could have imagined—because it was real, and it was theirs.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both on and off set. Their relationship blossomed quietly, just under the radar of the curious eyes of the cast and crew. Though they kept it professional during filming, it was impossible to hide the subtle glances, the shared smiles, and the way their hands would brush as they passed each other by.

Y/N found themselves falling deeper for Daniel with every passing day. He was kind and considerate, with a sense of humor that caught them off guard and made them laugh when they least expected it. They had never felt this way before, and it scared them as much as it thrilled them. But there was a comfort in Daniel’s presence, a sense of safety that made them feel like everything was going to be okay.

One afternoon, they had a rare day off from shooting, and Daniel suggested they explore the city together. Berlin was full of history and culture, and though Y/N had been there for weeks, they hadn’t had much time to truly experience it.

They spent the day wandering through art galleries and museums, stopping at cafes for coffee and pastries. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Daniel seemed to know all the best spots, the hidden gems that only locals frequented. He would tell stories about the city’s history, pointing out landmarks and sharing little anecdotes that made Y/N feel like they were getting a private tour from someone who truly loved the place.

As the day turned into evening, they found themselves at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The candlelit atmosphere was intimate, and Y/N could feel their heart racing as they sat across from Daniel, the flickering light casting shadows across his handsome features.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, looking around at the warm, inviting decor. “How did you find it?”

Daniel smiled, a little shyly. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. I thought you might like it.”

Y/N reached across the table, taking his hand in theirs. “I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Daniel’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Y/N’s hand gently. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice serious.

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves in their stomach. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but… I can’t help the way I feel. From the moment we met, I felt this connection between us, something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in their throat, their heart pounding in their chest. They had felt it too, but hearing Daniel say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more intense.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but… I think I’m falling for you too.”

The relief in Daniel’s eyes was palpable, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He stood up from his seat, moving to sit beside Y/N, and pulled them into a gentle embrace. Y/N melted into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against theirs, the steady beat of his heart under their cheek.

For a while, they just sat there, holding each other, letting the world outside fade away. It was as if time had stopped, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness. They talked quietly, sharing their hopes and dreams, their fears and insecurities. It was easy to be vulnerable with Daniel, easy to let down the walls they had built around their heart.

As the evening wore on, they decided to head back to the hotel, their hands intertwined as they walked through the quiet streets. The city was alive with the soft hum of nightlife, but Y/N only had eyes for Daniel, who looked at them with such affection that it made their heart ache in the best possible way.

When they reached Y/N’s hotel room, they lingered outside the door, neither of them wanting the night to end. Daniel brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N nodded, their heart racing. They opened the door, leading Daniel inside, and as soon as it closed behind them, he pulled them into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the emotions they had been holding back, all the desire and affection that had been building between them since the day they met.

They stumbled toward the bed, their lips never breaking contact, and as they fell into the soft sheets, Y/N knew this was where they were meant to be—wrapped in Daniel’s arms, lost in the feeling of being loved and cherished by someone who saw them for who they truly were.

The night was a blur of whispered words and tender touches, of shared laughter and quiet moments of connection. When they finally drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other, Y/N felt a peace they had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of their life had finally fallen into place, and they knew, deep in their heart, that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

The next morning, they woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Daniel was still asleep beside them, his face peaceful and relaxed, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched him. They had never felt this content, this happy, and they knew they had found something special, something worth holding onto.

As Daniel stirred awake, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a sleepy smile, they leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” Y/N whispered, their voice full of affection.

“Good morning,” Daniel replied, his voice husky with sleep. He pulled Y/N closer, his arms wrapping around them as if he never wanted to let go. “Last night was… incredible.”

“It was,” Y/N agreed, their heart swelling with emotion. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Daniel said, his gaze serious. “I meant what I said last night. I’m falling for you, Y/N, and I want to see where this goes. I don’t care about the logistics or what anyone else thinks. All I know is that I want to be with you.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes as they looked into Daniel’s sincere gaze. They had been so afraid to let themselves fall, but now that they had, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I want that too,” Y/N said, their voice choked with emotion. “I want to be with you, Daniel.”

He smiled, a smile so full of warmth and love that it took Y/N’s breath away. “Then let’s make it happen. We’ll figure it out together.”

And so, they did. As the film production continued, so did their relationship, growing stronger with each passing day. They faced the challenges together, navigating the complexities of a public relationship in a private world, but nothing could diminish the connection they shared.

When the film finally wrapped, and it was time to say goodbye to the set and the characters they had brought to life, Y/N and Daniel knew that this was just the beginning of their story. They had found something real, something lasting, and as they walked hand in hand into the next chapter of their lives, they knew they were ready to face whatever came next, as long as they were together.

In the end, it wasn’t just a love story scripted for the screen—it was their love story, one that would continue to unfold in ways they could never have imagined. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew that this was the greatest role they would ever play, not as actors, but as themselves, deeply in love and ready to take on the world, side by side.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!

Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Deborah Kerr:

I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.

Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.

Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.

Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!

Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"

She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS

Devika Rani:

Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN

[madhatterbri]

Mistake | D.P.

Summary: Reader and Damian are dating, but onscreen they are enemies. At Bash in Berlin, reader teams up with Finn and JD against Damian, Rhea, and Jey. During the match, reader distracts Jey by jumping into his arms and rubbing her nose against his. This action makes Damian incredibly jealous

Author's Note: No part 2. There has been too much fluff lately. 😂

Requested by: Anonymous

Damian Priest Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @terrortwinunicorn @magicalbuttertarts

It was challenging working against Damian Priest onscreen while dating him offscreen. There were so many times that Y/N wanted to intervene and help him and Rhea. She always managed to keep it professional and never cross the line. All was going well until Bash in Berlin.

Y/N was scheduled for a match. She was excited since this was her first major match in a different country. The butterflies in her stomach were on overdrive that day. Damian did his best to distract her. Finally, their match was up next.

The terror twins and Jey were made to look strong. The crowd loved to see them winning. A couple of times, Finn, JD, and Y/N were able to get a few minutes of momentum. Yet the momentum would quickly shift back to the terror twins and Jey.

"They are killing us out there," JD commented. He was breathing heavily.

Finn agreed. "We need a distraction,"

Y/N pursed her lips and looked around. She stopped the moment her eyes locked on Jey. "Take care of Damian. I have Jey covered,"

The female wrestler slowly walked over to Jey. Her hands behind her back. Mister Main Event immediately took notice. He had a cocky smirk on his lips. "Can I help you?"

"You just look really good today," she commented and rubbed his muscular arm. Y/N giggled and rubbed his other arm. She raised her hands up to his neck. Her fingers rubbed his tan flesh slowly.

"You know you don't look bad yourself," he commented. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped. He caught her to avoid her from falling on the ground. She grabbed his cheeks so he couldn't move his face away. Her nose rubbed against his. More giggles came out of her body.

Jey dropped her immediately when he saw Damian came over. The archer of infamy was furious. He started to yell at Jey.

"She came up to me, man!" Jey defended. He put his hands in the air and backed away.

Damian turned his sights to Y/N. His face was red from anger, but his eyes looked hurt. She bit her lip, knowing that she had taken this too far. Any woman that did that to him would be dead.

"You took it too far," he told her simply. When she went to apologize, he blew her off.

The match ended a few minutes after that. Her boyfriend and his friends were the victors. Finn and JD tried to comfort her as they walked backstage. She waited around for Damian.

When he appeared, he sighed loudly. "What were you doing out there?"

"I took it too far. I'm sorry. We needed a distraction and-,"

"And you thought throwing yourself to Jey Uso was the best answer?" He asked. "If you do that in front of me how do I know you aren't doing anything behind my back?"

Y/N's mouth dropped open in shock. Tears sprung to her eyes. "Damian, it was just a mistake. I would never intentionally hurt you,"

"Hey, everything okay back here?" Rhea asked.

Damian shook his head. The ex campeon was embarrassed and hurt. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face. "I don't know if I can trust you ever again. I'm done with this conversation,"

Before Y/N could talk sense into him, he walked away from her. Rhea immediately wrapped her arms around her. Y/N buried her face in Rhea's shoulder and cried. Her friend rubbed her back and tried to soothe her. Mami insisted that everything was going to be okay.

[cozyvu]

Today I went to my fav korean restaurant in Berlin again after a long time.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

A 47 years old mother and her 15 years old son were seriously injured in a Hezbollah rocket attack today, aimed at the northern city of Kiryat Shmona. I'll just point out that even though the Iran-funded terrorism group always claims their attacks on Israelis are a retaliation for this or for that, they chose to open fire at Israel on Oct 7 (when this country was busy with Hamas terrorists still infiltrating it in the south), and they haven't stopped since.

I just wanted to show you what it looks like when Israel's border is being fired at, but please keep in mind that Iron Dome was only implemented in 2011, but we have been fired at by one hostile entity or another (often more than one) for a very long time. I can't remember a time when we weren't afraid of rockets being fired at us. And Iron Dome, as demonstrated again today, with all due respect to it, is like every other defence system: it's not foolproof. Any person who wouldn't accept being at the receiving end of these rocket barrages, has no right to demand that Israel continues to accept this distorted reality.

(audio: Golda Meir)

So this is a reminder that this is what Israel has been dealing with almost non-stop since Oct 7 from several fronts.

Here in Israel, we continue to follow with alarm the rise of antisemitic incidents around the globe. This time, I have to share with you this horrifying bit of news, about a Jewish student, Lahav Shapira, being beaten so badly, that he had to be hospitalized and undergo surgery for the facial injuries that he endured at the hands of an Arab (so called "pro-Palestinian") student. Police says this was following an argument over the war in Gaza, Lahav's family says he and his gf were stalked, then he was jumped, while the attacker shouted, "Why are you posting pictures of kidnapped people?" To make matters worse, this happened in Berlin, and Lahav is the grandson of an Israeli athelete who was murdered by Palestinian terrorists in Germany, while he was participating in the 1972 Olympic Games. Berlin's Free University's response was weak, focused on explaining that the law prevents them from expelling the attacking student.

While ignorant social media users insist that what's happening to the Palestinians is a genocide, the niece of Qatar-based Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh gave birth in an Israeli hospital. Her baby was born prematurely, and is taken care of in the NICU. Haniyeh has 3 sisters who married Israeli Bedouin Arabs, got Israeli citizenship through that, and live in Israel with full citizen rights. I've worked with so many victims of actual cases of genocide, and NONE went to get medical treatment from the people who were massacring them.

I've now seen Tumblr posts accusing Israel of bombing over one million people in Rafah. These are posts referring to the rescue raid, where Israeli soldiers raided one apartment, SAVED two hostages, and then left. If you're trying to save two hostages from terrorists who would kill their prisoners and themselves first, you wanna sneak in there as discreetly as possible. You wouldn't bomb an entire city. Even Hamas' false spin, blaming Israel of a massacre (and don't forget that Hamas is the organization telling the world how many died during this operation), didn't try to claim that the IDF attacked the whole population of the city. There's something insanely wrong in a reality where people on social media uncritically pass along lies that not even a terrorist organization dares to tell.

The graduating student in the cap is Matan Levi.

He studied law, and was about to have his graduation ceremony when Hamas' massacre took place. He left everything, and went south to fight as a reservist that verey day. On Oct 14, he was hit by a mortar, and when he woke up in the hospital, he discovered that he had lost his eyesight. According to his own account, that was very hard to hear, but his first thought was regarding how this won't break him, how he can move on from this. Since then, he's been accompanied by a former soldier named Amit Barel:

Amit fought and was injured in the Second Lebanon War, back in 2006. He lost his sight, too. He has since developed a career, married, and had kids. He's a part of a program where wounded former soldiers are helping those who have been recently injured to cope with their new challenges. He said that simply seeing that life is possible even with serious injuries is very helpful to a lot of the newly wounded soldiers. I thought it's inspirational, how people can put their misfortune to good use, to help others, how these new bonds and friendships get formed, so I wanted to share the story of this touching project.

But I also wanted to reflect on how Israel is a society of wounded people. Not just physically. We have the collective trauma caused by thousands of years of antisemitic persecution, including the Holocaust and the expulsion of Mizrachi Jews from Arab and Muslim countries, and we have the on going trauma caused by the continued use of violence against us in a war that was started against us in 1947, and has never really ended, whatever form it has taken at different points in time. No one has a right to speak about this conflict, unless they're willing to acknowledge this hurt, too.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[cher-rei]

love song ♬— chapter 3 [ J.M ]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!oc

summary [please read]

genre(s): strangers to lovers, fluff, angst and football romance [love song playlist]

[w.c: 2.8k] masterlist

notes: heyyyyy, I managed to finish the chapter today!! surprise!! I hope you guys are enjoying it xxx

previous chapter | next chapter

the following day, as promised, the group of friends were headed on a little outing to congratulate the boys on their win. they burst into the bustling mall, laughter and chatter filling the air.

it started off well, conversation flowing easily between them just like it used to.

“spain is playing in berlin tonight,” noelle said in recollection and fixed the position of the the bag strap on her shoulder.

florian turned to look at her with his eyes widened, then hitting kai on the arm. “that lamine yamal kid? an absolute class player. we need to go and watch them play.”

from beside him aaliyah let out a scoff. “we actually have an england match to watch,” she let out a dazed sigh, “I need a picture with jude.”

florian’s smile immediately dropped, causing jamal to stifle a laugh from beside noelle. “we'll end up going anyway, let's just pray that they play each other at some stage to kill two birds with one stone.”

jamal looked to aaliyah with a quirked eyebrow. “you could've just asked me, I have connections with mr superstar.”

“no way,” noelle said in surprise. “I have connections with mr superstar's best friend.”

“you know trent?” he asked again, but she shook her head with a smile.

“close, I know his girlfriend. we went to high-school together.”

sophia perked up at your mention, knowing exactly who you were talking about. “I keep on forgetting that you went to high-school with jamie. what a small world we live in.”

“you know jamie?” jamal spat, disbelief spread all over his face and it made noelle furrow her brows, not sure what was so shocking. who didn't know her? “jamie carter? that jamie?”

when noelle nodded he couldn't help but chuckle in shock— the girl he had a thing for was friends with his childhood friend. “small world might be an understatement. we were in the chelsea academy together. major older sister energy, I'm still traumatised.”

the shared connection led to a comfortable conversation between the two strangers, their footsteps trailing behind the two couples ahead who were lost in their own world. noelle shared fond memories of the older girl to jamal, about how she took noelle under her wing for what ever reason.

it was one of those silly situations where the protectiveness of someone would ultimately end in a friendship between someone in year 11 and 9. so for those two years that jamie had left, she made sure to care for noelle as if she were her own.

“oh, she's so small!” jamie cooed at the newcomer, noelle immediately stopping in her tracks to see that she was the only year 9 who signed up for school newspaper.

“what's your name, angel?” jamie questioned and ushered her into the room, everyone lounging around the meeting table with her at the head.

noelle hesitated for a moment, her eyes scanning the faces of her seniors— jamie’s boisterous personality standing out. “noelle braun.”

“no way! kelly, remember when I said that I wanted to name my baby girl noelle?? i have it in my notes app.”

from that day onward, noelle couldn't recall a day where she wasn't sat with jamie at school studying in the library, asking for advice or watching the older girl join in on the football matches that took place at recess.

jamal listened intently as she spoke fondly of her, a warm hearted laugh leaving his lips. “yeah, that sounds exactly like her. toned down a bit, I reckon since she's older now.”

from ahead of them sophia couldn't help but look over her shoulder every so often to see the two wandering slowly, conversation being made despite noelle's timid personality. and that was the shocking part. she didn't like sharing too much about herself unless she was comfortable with someone.

her answers were always kept short and brief, a tight lipped smile following after to mimick her stiff behaviour. jamal was similar, but he knew how to carry a conversation with a bashful smile— which was exactly what he was doing now, his clammed hands stuffed into the pocket of his jeans.

this might be a lot easier than she thought.

as they stopped at a clothing store, sophia and kai drifted off somewhere, with aaliyah and florian heading in the opposite direction. the girls held on to thein boyfriend's for dear life, exchanging smitten looks and kisses every so often.

noelle and jamal exchanged a knowing glance.

“I think we're cramping their love fest,” he whispered and she nodded, her nose scrunching at the sight of kai tickling sophia.

she looked up to jamal. “coffee break?”

jamal couldn't stop the smile that drew to his lips, his heart fluttering for some reason as he stepped to the side and gestured for noelle to walk ahead. “it's like you're a genuis.”

without drawing attention, they slipped away from the group, leaving the affectionate couples to their shopping spree. eventually they settled into a cozy café, jamal taking the liberty to order their drinks as promised.

when their order got called up, he handed the latte to noelle with a playful smile. “my sincerest apologies once again, you'll be able to taste it in the coffee, I swear.”

a giggle left her lips as she took her seat at the back of the café, further away from everyone and he took a seat in front of her. “oh, really? what was the coffee made with exactly?” she asked jokingly, a playful smile on her lips.

“immense guilt and embarrassment,” he desdpanned, causing noelle to force down the laugh itching at her throat before they fell back into a peaceful atmosphere.

the conversation drifted from topic to topic, shared laughter floating in the air. “so what do you think they're going to do next?” jamal asked grinning, hinting at their friends that they left behind.

noelle pretended to think for a moment. “probably plan a joint wedding.”

his eyes widened in mock horror, the footballers reaction being her to laughter once more. “don't even joke about that.”

everything was going great to his surprise, and in no time his sweaty palms were the last thing on his mind. he was curious. curious about how noelle was, what she enjoyed and why she drank 4 mugs of coffee a day? he'd barely scraped the surface.

it came up naturally, his job and her life at university. and the fact that she was a psychology major made so much sense to him. “you fit the stereotype perfectly.”

noelle smiled, “and what’s that?”

the footballer leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he scanned noelle’s features and stature. not to be weird but he'd been observing her for quite some time, seeing as he didn't have the courage to actually talk to her. all those days in the coffee shop, ordering coffee only to give it to one of his teammates because he wasn't a huge indulger due to his diet.

“you like to keep to yourself, a natural observer.” noelle gasped, ready to plead her case but he cut her off. “yeah, don't act like I don't see the way that you look at people, you're psychoanalysing everyone you creep.”

“creep is a bit much,” she interjected, her hand covering her mouth in shock. accusations— correct accusations. nevertheless she gestured for him to carry on.

he hummed in thought. “your colour palette is very neutral, very cosy. autumn is definitely your favourite season,” he said that was so much certainty and noelle nodded along, a hum of confirmation leaving her lips.

“and you're an older sibling.” her lips parted slightly, shock evident. “I know that from experience, definitely a younger sister— teenager.”

noelle threw her head back with a groan, the mention of her younger sister giving her a splitting headache. “I hate 15 year olds. she's like a demon, sucking the life out of me.”

she didn't have the best relationship with her sister carmen. blame it on puberty, and the fact that carmen hated everything and everyone, meaning that noelle was privileged with the ‘evil older sister’ title for trying to help her— or doing anything really.

“ugh, can you just leave me alone?” carmen would yell, marching out of the living room with her blood boiling. “do you have nothing better to do than make my life difficult?”

the door slammed. all this just because noelle offered to help her with an assignment since she was struggling.

“so, what's your assignment about?” jamal asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “sophia said you weren't too happy about it.”

with a bitter smile noelle took another sip of her latte, the warm liquid spreading through her chest. “I'm exploring the phenomenology of romantic love— how people experience and understand love.”

the genuine glint shimmered in jamal's eyes, his interest piquing although he could see that she was anything but pleased or excited about it. “that sounds interesting, and fun. how's it going so far?”

“well,” she sighed, her eyes drifting out the café window for a moment. “it's not going at all. I didn't start yet, but I'm getting there.” she smiled. “I hope…”

she went on to tell him about using sophia, kai, aaliyah and florian as he guinea pigs to which he was very pleased about. he let out an amused hum, nodding fondly at the idea. “you're about to get a phd with that thesis, they're your one way ticket to success.”

as they delved deeper into conversation, jamal discovered noelle's infectious laugh, her eagerness and passion for understanding human emotions, and her very subtle sense of humour. in turn, noelle, found jamal's kind heart, his genuine interest in her thoughts and his captivating smile.

the café’s background hum faded into the distance as they lost themselves until they finished their drinks, jamal's phone buzzed in his pocket, a stifled laugh leaving his lips at the message. “looks like the lovebirds are done shopping.”

noelle smiled, stretching her arms with a content sigh. “time to rejoin the flock. thanks for the coffee break by the way, I felt like I was having withdrawal symptoms.”

with a chuckle he held the door open for the smaller girl. “you seriously need to watch your caffeine intake.”

as the evening drew to close, the girls decided to head back to noelle’s apartment since it's where they'd be staying during their time in munich. watching her friends separate from their boyfriend's was a sight for sore eyes, her face displaying her distaste while simply giving jamala a polite wave.

the trio settled into noelle's cozy living room, surrounded by plush cushions and soft lighting. sophia poured wine into their glasses with a satisfied smile before plopping down next to her friends on the couch.

they went over the events of the day and how nice it was to be out with their partners again before they'd be pressed with the task of immense stress to soothe due to the tournament. with that, noelle naturally faded into the background as a listener, trying her best to understand their situations.

it was a task and a half to be there for their partners emotionally during times like this, and it was tough to imagine. but once again, it took a toll on each partner emotionally and mentally. [add to thesis outline]

“where did you sneak off to by the way?” aaliyah's voice snapped her out of her daze, a distant hum leaving her lips as she recollected her thoughts.

sophia and aaliyah eyed noelle with knowing looks. “you left us hanging, to hang out with jamal.”

noelle couldn't help the scoff that she let out, the accusation rather amusing. “first of all, you left me hanging.” she pointed to herself with a pointed expression, then shrugged. “and jamal owed me anyway. I got apology coffee.”

a gasp left sophia's lips and she straightened her posture. “your favourite.”

aaliyah shook her head and set her glass down on the coffee table then snuggled futher into the couch. “sorry that we left you like that. we know you aren't much of a talker, it was probably really awkward.”

“it actually wasn't,” noelle said softly, not thinking much of her answer yet the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach said otherwise.

with confused looks, her friends looked at her with intrigue and mild confusion because they knew that if noelle was put in a situation where she had to be with someone she didn't know, silence was her go to. they'd seen it first hand at parties and gatherings, she would literally sit or stand silently, her mind drifting elsewhere instead of engaging in small talk.

“yeah, it wasn't awkward. he’s actually really easy to talk to.”

sophia nodded slowly, a sly grin settling on her lips. “oh, really?” she turned to aaliyah who was more confused, not quite catching onto her friend's initial thought. “you know, he's not much of a talker either.”

it was aaliyah's turn to chime in. “he's got that whole charming thing down though. I seriously don't underatand how he doesn't have a girlfriend yet.” her tone was laced with something that only sophia caught onto, her smile deepening while noelle simply took in the information.

she shot her friends a quizzical look, surprised by the newfound information. initially she thought that he'd be tied down with someone, you know footballers and their antics. all that stereotypical stuff.

noelle''s expression read “noted”, earning proud glances from the two girls in front, silently scheming. it wasn't the first time that they'd be playing matchmaker with her. they tried whenever they encounter someone who seemed the slightest bit fit for their best friend. even if it were just for the experience.

but when sophia was sitting at home back in london a while ago, jamal had come back to visit for a few days with florian for kai. the two footballers were in her living room one day, waiting for kai to come back from pracrice when she overheard a conversation.

she didn't get the details but all she knew is that jamal had his eyes set on someone that he's never spoken to. it sounded funny at first until the person started sounding oddly familiar, but she pushed it to the side until later that evening again. once again they were on the topic of relationships, and kai was telling jamal to let loose a little.

he was reluctant of course. “you guys got lucky, okay. I can't do that, girlfriend’s don't sure show up out of nowhere.”

“unless…” florian trailed off, hinting at an idea that jamal immediately cut off. “you're too picky.”

sophia hit him on the arm for that comment, feeling sorry for the younger boy. “don't listen to him, he's stupid.” she took a seat on the armrest of the couch beside kai. “start off simple. what do you look for in a partner? maybe I know someone.” that was supposed to be a joke.

he was put on the spot, not having much of a criteria because he wasn't picky. “I don't know,” he sighed. “I just need someone to talk to I guess, someone gentle— I've had my fair share of brutal women in my life. this is going to sound weird but someone warm–”

“dude what does that even mean? you're asking for a pillow,” kai said with a judgemental look thay florian mimicked. of course that earned him another slap on the shoulder.

jamal rolled his eyes. “your girlfriends hate you in secret just so by the way.”

“as if,” florian scoffed and sunk deeper into the couch cushion while kai turned to look up at sophia with pleading eyes although she avoided his gaze, an awkward laugh leaving her lips.

“someone smarter than me,” jamal spoke up and sophia stopped for a moment. “that would be fun. ugh, I don't know,” he groaned in frustration and ran his palms over his face, flushed in embarrassment. “I just need somebody to love without worrying about them trying to steal my money!”

florian choked on his laughter. “okay, justin bieber calm down now.”

sophia on the other hand was on the verge of leaping up and smacking herself for being so damn blind. because she did in fact, know someone.

the only issue was that she was dealing with two very stubborn individuals, one of which hated the idea of romantic relationships as a whole. but there was a plan, there always had to be a plan, and it started with planting the idea into noelle's mind, a single seed of possibility that would eventually plague her mind if it was watered enough.

jamal was easy, he liked her but sophia wasn't sure how much that silent infatuation and intrigue would get her. of course it all needed to happen naturally, but she was more than happy to be the catalyst.

“he has a really cute smile by the way, not to be weird or anything,” noelle stated out of the blue, her friends nodding in agreement at the sudden proclamation, their silent exchange of high fives beneath the blanket giving them hope.

and the seed was planted.

[billskeis]

Heyy, I saw that you write for Tokio Hotel and I just-----

I have a request, just something I've been thinking. 2005 Tom with a female reader who broke her leg. Like she's part of a band too, and during a show she ends up falling off the stage and breaking her leg. And her fans are super worried and sad for her, but Tom takes good care of her. All fluff and such.

Thank you <3

˖ ࣪ ⟢ a broken leg & nurse tom

it was going well, super fucking well. the venue was overflowing with fangirls and fanboys as tokio hotel’s world tour boomed internationally. the crowd was going wild, as everyone got their groove on, shrieks and screams echoing, sweat and tears were shared. the night had always been young when the five of you performed.

pressing the mic into his lips, bill smiles at you and crowd during the encore, “thank you, berlin! for an amazing night!” waving to the hundreds—no, thousands of people presented before all of you.

he turns to you for a speech, expectance as it was rehearsed, but you were too busy looking behind you to tom, who was already watching you, with the same expression as your twin brother. he signified to you that it had went silent and everyone was now waiting for you to say something, “oh—OH! i just wanted to say.. you guys were amazing, and the whole reason we are here today, we love you!!!”

as you ran, you ran across the stage with bill, waving a goodbye to the many fans that you adored as much as you adored them. however, the adrenaline seemed to have gotten the best of you, a turn for the worse.

losing your footing, your body had unconsciously expected you to take another step upon the platform, only to be meet with the absence of a foundation, leading you to fall at least a metre down, hitting the ground with a significant impact.

pain. pain is all you could feel, your vision now blurred as your head spun from the unexpected crash. hazy, you skim around your surroundings to then avert all attention to your leg. it’s broken, it’s. fucking. broken. you wanted to scream, scream so loud that could break glass miles away, but you didn’t. it just, wouldn’t come out. gasps and voices concerns exchange through the crowd from your sudden collapse. everyone was worried.

“y/n!?! Y/N!!—oh my gosh, tom!!” bill screamed as he made it down to the platform first.

you winced, tears streaming down your face as you bit your lip, chewing so hard at the muscle blood threatened to bleed. balling at the grass beneath your body, you do everything in your power to distract yourself from the pain.

tom jumps off from on the platform, quickly followed by georg and gustav who all surrounded you. immediately, he scooped you within his arms, a tight grasp on your body to ensure your safety. he held you with no struggle, as if you were light as a feather. pressing you closer to his body, all tom could do was breathe. he couldn’t speak, he didn’t know the right words to say. obviously he wasn’t going to ask you if you were okay, that’s ridiculous.

with how close he shoved your body into his, you might as well be one body altogether. the pain was excruciating, overwhelming, and you could feel your consciousness blacking out, eyelids becoming heavy to hold, all you heard before you passed out was ‘i got you y/n. you’re with me now—someone get me a fucking ambulance!”

okay. now let’s get to the aftercare! tom, is crazycrazycrazy overprotective of you now. he BABIES YOU. even after being put in a cast, he literally would not let you get up to anything, even if it was as simple as going to the washroom or changing your clothes. he 100% would do it for you without hesitance.

“y/n. i will tell you once more and continue to tell you again. you cannot get up from this bed.”

“but tom..!”

“no buts, now lemme get you those snacks that you like so much ‘kay?”

*a month later*

“lemme get that for you schatzi,”

“tom. are you serious?” as the item you reached to grab was set beside you on the table.

spoils you fucking rotten. during your recovery, he stays every night to watch over you. again, he cannot take his eyes off you for one second or you’ll try to do something of your own accord again! c’mon now, let the man do his thing :3

cause every morning, he will go and get you flowers.

“you bought me flowers?”

“you didn’t think i’d buy you flowers?”

*your room is filled to the brim with bouquets of them*

every afternoon, he will go and put on a movie that you know he hates but you like because you deserve it.

“since when did you like the notebook?”

“i don’t.”

“then why watch it?”

“because you like it!”

“you don’t HAVE to watch it because i like it,”

“there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, y/n.”

every night, he will bathe you, soothing the water over your body as he gently washes you, soft touches of his hand on your skin to put you at total ease. would also 10/10 trace his fingers over your cast, and draw on it. stupid silly little doodles of you and the band, and your initials put in a heart together >\\\\<.

“feeling better baby?”

“mmhm! thank you tomi, i really appreciate it.”

“yeah? where’s my kiss :D??”

he found you crying one night because the pain of your leg, on top of not being able to do anything involving the band and helping with music just became oh so overbearing. so when he saw tears fall down your face as you wept quietly, swipes them off with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he looks to you with total admiration.

“i just—i feel so useless!”

“you’re not a burden. this isn’t your fault.” as he pats your head, now running his fingers through your hair, “let’s worry about this stuff after your leg is fixed hm?”

“but..”

“baby.” he looked at you with a stern but gentle look. he just wanted you to know that you’re his girl and he and the band would NEVER think you were bringing them down.

“okay..”

“that’s my girl.”

your fans were so concerned. from the incident to your recovery journey, many would constantly ask on any social platform how you were doing. however, tom was on top of it all. it’s so cute, he would constantly post selfies of you and him together, either watching a show, sitting around the house, at some point the healing was going well that you were able to go back to the studio to record.

the fans ate that shit up, knowing them, they definitely read into the pictures too much that they examined and noticed EVERY. SINGLE. LITTLE. DETAIL there could’ve been in each update photo. from your casted leg being propped up from within his lap, the hand holdings, how in the photos it’d just be the two of you. a new ship was set sailing that’s for sure!

*comments under tomkaulitz’s post*

“oooohhh i see u tom 😏”

“they’re so cute! glad to see y/n is healing well <3”

“i wanna be tom so bad”

— tomkaulitz replied to _ “you could never be me :D”

“tom! that was so mean!” as you leaned over the shoulder, watching as he typed out his reply, smirked, and pressed the ‘post’ button to send his comment reply.

“what?? it’s true, and you wouldn’t have it any other way 😁.” laughing at his phone as he kissed your cheek.

now i need a boyfriend so badly to take care of me WHO WANT ME???? btw he looks so cute here

whipped this out of my ass lowkey highkey and i hate it but :3

[hannahssimblr]

After eight, in the inner city, I hold the door for Astrid. We step inside the restaurant and heat hits our faces in a waft, warming our frozen skin. Astrid slips her gloves off, folds her hat and unzips her coat with ease as I struggle, suddenly far too hot in my hat, the zip of my coat slipping between gloved fingers. I’ve pulled it inside out by the time the cloakroom attendant takes it out of my hands. I have walked snow onto the carpet behind me, while Astrid, miraculously, has not. 

“They’re all here already,” she says. “We’re the last.”

“Yes, like always.” 

It’s a table for six, and there our friends sit in conversation, their menus already on the table. 

“Oh, Astrid! Jude!” Elias gets up from his seat at the head of the table to hug us. His smile, big and white, and his face flushed from the heat. 

“We’re late,” Astrid points out. She speaks apologetically, but doesn’t actually apologise. “But we have your gift.”

“Oh!” He takes the gift bag from her and kisses both her cheeks. “This is so nice, my God, Astrid.”

I bought it, actually; the scarf made with some kind of silk mohair something-or-other, but Astrid picked it out, so really it’s she that deserves the credit. He’ll think she wrote the card too, even though she didn’t. I’m the one with the nicer handwriting.

“‘Dear Elias, on your twenty-first birthday,’” he reads as we join him at the table. “‘Here’s hoping for a year as fabulous as you are. I hope I know you forever, and we can party together at ninety-one too. You won’t need the scarf in Bali, but we hope it keeps you warm when you touch back down in Berlin next month. With love, Astrid and Jude.’ Oh,” he holds it to his chest. “You two are so sweet.”

“You are not supposed to say happy birthday unless it is a person’s actual birthday,” says Leon, swirling his wine around and pretending he can smell notes of bergamot, or whatever the server said was in it. He takes a sip, then sends the bottle back to the kitchen. 

“Oh, okay, sorry,” I say. “We should have posted the card to Indonesia. That was really stupid of us, you’re right.”

His nostrils flare while Jonas, next to him, peruses a menu.

“Wow,” he comments, “Forty seven euro for the monkfish. It seems expensive.”

“Well, it’s an occasion,” Leon says, as the server returns with a second, hopefully more acceptable, bottle of wine. “We all agreed to eat at a nice restaurant.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? What occasion is it?”

“Elias’ birthday, of course, what are you-” he breaks off to mutter to the server, who then circles the table to fill our glasses. 

“I thought we just agreed not to mention the birthday until the actual birthday, which is not today, right? What date is it, again?”

Dalia sighs from her end of the table. “Jude, oh lord.”

Leon rolls his eyes. “You are being immature.” 

What’s actually immature is a twenty-six-year-old man making an unnecessary enemy of someone who still has the word ‘teen’ at the end of their age, but Dalia is already kicking me beneath the table before I can open my mouth to point this out.

“I would love to see Bali,” Astrid sighs. “When it’s so cold like this, I feel I can’t stand it. I just want to be somewhere nice and warm.”

Elias smiles. “Well, maybe for your twenty-first birthday, your boyfriend will take you there.”

“Well, we’ve just booked tickets to Amalfi, actually,” I say. “We’re going in April.”

“Oh, I love Italy.”

“Me too,” Astrid clutches his hand in hers, a gesture of excitement in their shared love of, whatever, gelato or something. They converse about places they’ve been, and what they’ve seen, using the correct, Italian pronunciation, which is fine, because that’s how they’re supposed to be pronounced, and Astrid is fluent in Italian, but sometimes when I’m privy to conversations like this, I think of Jen, and the way she’d laugh if she ever overheard them. 

Whenever a natural gap opens up in their conversation, I consider adding in my own anecdote about the time I went to Rome on a school trip when I was sixteen, and the school was cheap, so they made us do the whole journey by bus, which was so boring that Fitzy and I started squeezing dollops of toothpaste into people’s hair as they slept and posing alongside them with our two fingers up. Our punishment took the form of the teachers revoking our passes to St Peters Basilica, so while the others were in there, taking zoomed in photos of Michelangelo’s tiny penis, we spent two hours roaming the streets in search of a Dominos Pizza, which we did eventually find. Mine slipped out of its box and onto the pavement before I had even taken a bite, and we posed for photos with our two fingers up next to that, too.  

But I know that if I tell the story, and Elias won’t react the way I want him to, but gasp, and look very sad as though it’s a tragedy, and then later, Astrid will ask me why I decided to share the story in the first place, because it was kind of awkward. When Elias asks me if I’ve been to Italy before, I simply smile, and I say no. 

“You will adore it, then. Will you hire a car?”

“I suppose we will, right? Makes sense.”

Astrid nods. 

“Well, then, if you’re staying in Amalfi, you might as well drive to Sorrento. Leon and I once stayed in this incredible hotel with a sea view. I can find out what it is called.”

“Oh, please.” Her thumb strokes the back of my hand. “We could add one or two more nights to our trip, do you think?”

I smile. “Yeah, of course we can.”

He tells her about a restaurant that does gnocchi in such a way that is notably different from other gnocchis in the region, and they continue, even as the food arrives. Tiny portions. I forgot the name of what I ordered. 

Across the table, Leon and Jonas listen as Dalia talks animatedly. 

“Right, and then, the woman, whose name is Martha, by the way, turns to me, and she says-”

She is halfway through a story that needs more context than what I have. I open my phone. 

Jen, just thinking about our school tour to Rome lmao.  Oh my God - the one where the teachers caught Ashling Duggan hiding you under her bed in the hostel? Hahahahaha yes!  I still tell people about that trip, like, it’s always my go-to story with new people.  Same, we’re just at dinner now, talking about Italy. I was just remembering all the stupid things that happened.  And didn’t Cian Hayes shit himself or something??? I’m always foggy on that specific detail. Yeah, and he turned his underpants inside out because he was too lazy to get out of bed. 

Omg sick. What do your friends think of the story?

My thumb hovers over the keyboard. 

Yeah, they laughed.  Show them that compilation of photos of you and Fitzy with all your sleeping toothpaste victims.   Oh, God, I don’t have those anymore. I think I left all my photos in Dublin.  What a waste! I’ll go dig them out someday, and take them with when I come to Berlin.  Okay! Come soon, please. I miss you. 

I miss you too, Judie. It’s honestly so weird that you have a whole new girlfriend I haven’t even met.   I know. It’s weird for me too, but you’ll love her. She’s amazing.  I bet. She’s beautiful. Understatement.  I don’t know how you keep pulling it off.  Well, I’d be stupid if I didn't go out with her, wouldn’t I? Yeah, probably. Lucky you aren’t stupid, then. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[itstheheebiejeebies]

A really great article about what the crew of the Just-a-Snappin' went through on the Bremen raid on October 8, 1943.

Transcript below Read More

Article found through this page on the 100th Bomb Group site

Article named: Uncommon valor

Subheading: Everett Blakely personified grace under pressure

By Dan Krieger Telegram-Tribune

Photos of the Just-a-Snappin' crashed into a tree, and one of Blakely smiling in uniform. The latter with the message "Everett 'Gopher' Blakely, right, lost his plne, 'Just-a-Snappin.' but saved his crew when he crash landed the B-17 bomber.

Pull quote in the article: 'For 3,000 feet Captain Blakely and Major Kidd fought to get that plane under control. It was only because of the superior construction of our bomber... plus the combination of two skilled pilots, that we ever even recovered from that dive. -Lt. Harry Crosby

Main article: Lt. Harry Crosby wrote to his wife, "Jean there are just two reasons why I am here today. One of them is because of Blake's superb piloting and the other is because of the skill of our gunners."

We often think of heroes as flamboyant people. More often than not, real heroes are quiet people who are doing what they believe is required of them.

Today Everett Blakely, a pilot trained in Santa Maria, says that he was "just doing what had to be done" in the war against Hitler. He was a quiet hero.

Allan G. Hancock College in Santa Maria has a long and colorful history. Long before it became a community college, the campus was known as the Hancock College of Aeronautics.

It was a private school, named after its energetic, versatile and creative founder and benefactor, Capt. Allan Hancock.

Well prior to American entry into the Second World War, Captain Hancock offered his school to the United States Army Air Corps as a flight instruction school. Between May 1939 and V-J Day, some 8,500 pilots and 1,500 aircraft mechanics were trained at Hancock College.

The commercial warehouse district just west of today's Hancock College campus includes the one-time hangers for the flight instruction aircraft. The Stearman PT-13 biplanes are gone, but the College of Aeronautics administration buildings still survive on campus.

Everett "Gopher" Blakely came to Santa Maria just out of the University of Washington at Seattle. He was convinced that America was going to get involved in the European war.

The Blitzkrieg over Poland in 1939, over Belgium and France in 1940, and the Battle of Britain had convinced Blakely that this was going to be a war where air power was essential. The United States was going to need pilots. "Gopher" Blakely had discovered his mission.

Blakely soon started flying the essentially First World War era Stearmans over the tranquil valleys of the Central Coast. He and his buddies from rainy Puget Sound loved the warm sunny climate. They thought Santa Maria was a friendly town and enjoyed a precious few weekend hours socializing at the Santa Maria Inn.

Within months, Blakely and his friends were on the damp fen lands of Norfolkshire in England's East Anglia. They had graduated from the tiny Stearmans to the "Queen of the Bombers," the four-engine, hundred-foot-winged Boeing B-17 "Flying Fortress."

On July 4, 1943, the first American pilots participated with Britain's Royal Air Force in bombing raids over Germany. But as late as January 1943, Winston Churchill, en route to meet with President Roosevelt at Casablanca, wrote a secret memo to his Secretary of State for Air.

In that memo, Churchill complained that "the Americans have not yet succeeded in dropping a single bomb on Germany." What Churchill meant was that no American bombers were able to penetrate German anti-aircraft fire a sufficient distance. This was because the Americans were trained for daylight missions only. The British had bomber Berlin early in the war by flying mainly night missions,

Churchill wanted the Americans to start flying night missions also. But Gen. Henry H. "Hap" Arnold was convinced that it would take too long to retrain air crews for night flying. That loss of time would allow the Germans to rebuild their military strength.

At Casablanca, the Americans won Churchill over to a doctrine of round-the-clock bombing which would "give Hitler no rest." The Americans would send increasingly larger waves of B-17s by day. The RAF would continue doing what it did best through nighttime assaults.

The decision at Casablanca was costly in terms of the lives of American aircrews. Daytime raids were decidedly more risky. Few of us realize that the losses to the Eight Air Force alone approach American losses in the Vietnam War.

Capt. "Gopher" Blakely became the pilot of "Just-a-Snappin," a B-17 in the 100th Bomb Group flying out of Thorpe Abbots in Norfolkshire. Blakelly and his crew were piloting their B-17s over the upper reaches of the Danube in the famous raids on Schweinfurt and Rogensburg.

On Oct. 8, 1943, the 10th Bomb Group participated in a raid on the shipbuilding and industrial center of Bremen and the nearby U-Boat building yards and pens at Vegesack.

Both of "Just-a-Snappin's" right wing engines were shot out in a running battle with German fighters over the Zuider Zee. Five of the crew were injured - Waist Giner Sgt. Lester Saunders fatally.

Lt. Harry Crosby, "Just-a-Snappin's" navigator, filed an astonishing report on the B-17's struggle to return to England:

"For 3,000 feet Captain Blakely and Major Kidd fought to get that plane under control. It was only because of the superior construction of our bomber, and its perfect maintenance, plus the combination of two skilled pilots, that we even recovered from that dive.

"If I were an expert on stress and strain analysis, or a mechanic, or even a pilot, I would dwell at length on the manner in which the plane was restored to normal flying attitude. As it is, the procedure defies my description. But I am certain it was a very great accomplishment."

Everett Blakely's description recalls, "You can lose altitude awfully fast when one engine goes sour and your controls are chewed to ribbons. We dropped for 3,000 feet before Major Kidd and I could regain control... Most of the crew were not strapped to their seats were thrown to the floor, shaken severely - but at last the ground was once more back where it ought to be, instead of standing up on one ear. Once more we were in level flight and, at least temporarily, safe."

Crosby's report states that:

"At 10,000 feet we were able to look out the windows (and) were temporarily assured to not that the ground was now in the right place. A hurried consultation was held over inter-phone to determine a plan for fighting our way back to England.

"The following facts had to be considered: We had lost all communication back of the top turret, so it was impossible to determine the extent of injury and damage. Our control wires were fraying as far back as the top turret operator could see. At least two of the crew had reported being hit immediately after we left the target.

"One engine was in such bad condition that bits and finally all of the cowling were blasted off. We were losing altitude so rapidly probably because of the condition of the elevator that any but the shortest way back was beyond contemplation. So we headed across the face of Germany for home."

Later, Harry Crosby wrote of Blakely and his co-pilot:

"The normal reaction on the part of our pilots should have been to think of their own personal safety, or in cases of extreme nobility of character perhaps they would have been thinking about the other members of the crew. But they did not, even in this crisis, forget for one minute they were the leaders of a great formation. Their first thought was of the crews behind them. In unison, as we fell into our dive, the words came over the interphone to our tail gunner, 'Signal the deputy leader to take over.'

"I can't help but to think as they fought for their lives they might have been excused for being too busy to think of their command, but such was not the case.

"By this signaling, the remainder of the formation was notified immediately that we had been hit and were aborting. This act would have prevented any planes being pulled even a few feet out of position into danger from the enemy aircraft buzzing about."

Despite the loss of the airplane's compass, Blakely and his amazing navigator, Lt. Harry Crosby, made it to landfall. They crash-landed at Ludham, Norfolk. The completely unmaneuverable aircraft, without any brakes, skidded into an ancient British oak tree.

Blakely remembers: "The tree crashed between Np. 2 engine and the pilot's compartment. That was lucky because another three inches to the right and it would have crushed the pilot and co-pilot. We had slowed to maybe 50 mph by then..."

Blakely's co-pilot for that mission, Major John B. Kidd, recalled that "someone counted over 800 separate holes in that aircraft."

"Just-a-Snappin" would never fly again.

The Bremen mission was typical of dozens of missions which penetrated deeper and deeper into German territory. Even before the Bremen raid, Blakely and his crew were piloting their B-17's over teh upper reaches of the Danube in the famous raids on Schweinfurt and Regensburg.

Today, Blakely is retired and lives with his wife, Marge, in San Luis Obispo. They are the parents of Supervisor David Blakely, who speaks with great pride of his father's contribution to the fight against Hitler.

-three stars end the article and separate a note about the author

Dan Krieger is a Cal Poly history professor and member of the County Historical Society.

-Along the bottom of the page the article is attributed to the San Luis Obispo (Calif.) Telegram-Tribune in the Saturday, February 16, 1991 edition on page 23.