Die Brötchen = bread rolls (plural). The crescent on top is “das Hörnchen” in German (“little horn”) or we just say “der Croissant”, like in French. Das Mehrkornbrötchen = multi seed roll (my personal favorite), das Sesambrötchen = sesame roll, das Mohnbrötchen = poppyseed roll. If you’re a tourist and can’t remember all that, just point and nod but DO NOT miss trying delicious German bread rolls at a German corner bakery. :)
Words: 911 Tony Stark X Reader Request:“Heheh I’m back !!!! So of course relating to tony stark ! Hmmm how about a engagement surprise? Hm ? On a mission to rescue the reader. Thank You !!!!” @tonystarksgirl
Bound to a rickety wooden chair
was not exactly how you preferred to spend a Saturday night. Then again you
supposed you only had yourself to blame for your current predicament. The
Captain had warned you to fall back; but you didn’t listen. No, you were too
smart to get noticed by anyone! You were just going to slink up to the HYDRA
base on the hill all invisible and undetected. You forget that thermal cameras
can see you, even if you’re invisible.
One of HYDA’s goons had crept up
on you while you were busy creeping on them. It hadn’t been an easy fight and
it hadn’t been pretty. Your left cheekbone was defiantly broken and your bottom lip
was swollen. And there was that little matter of being strapped to the chair.
The team would come looking for you…eventually. You were sure Clint would get a
kick out if it, he loved any excuse to tease you. Tony, on the other hand, was
going to have your neck for this.
Your boyfriend of four years, Tony
Stark, worried if you came home a few minutes late from the grocery store. You
could only imagine how upset he was going to be when he realized you’d been
captured by HYDRA. There was going to be no stopping him once he started to
make his way through the base. It would be repulsors first, ask questions
later. Yup, any minute now. You
thought as the ropes tying you to chair were starting to itch.
George Harrison, Green Street, London, March/April 1964 - photographed by Max Scheler
“[At night during the filming of A Hard Day’s Night] George would strum on his guitar, and Astrid [Kirchherr] would dance with Ringo… George was more approachable than the others. John seemed very sarcastic; Ringo was a bit hard; Paul was the diplomat; and George, well, he was just this pretty boy. I liked him a great deal.” - Max Scheler, German photographer on assignment for the German magazine Stern, A Rolling Stone Tribute To George Harrison
(A/n): would you look at that, I write for Felix too
Hallo! I’m sorry if my English is not good. Can you do German!Reader meeting PewDiePie for first time? And she gives him awkward handshake and feels really upset?
Warnings: cringe holy shit
‘Ah, are conventions always this crowded?’ you thought excitably. If you were honest, having the area be packed full of other like minded people made you all the more happy.
You were really all here for the same reason. To meet the ones you hold close, and have a memorable time. It was simple, yet very dear to you.
On the plus side, there wasn’t much of a way you could mess anything up- you were confident in that hopeful fact.
So there you stood, in an eager line of people waiting to be allowed entrance into the PaxWest building.
Time went fast for you. It felt like an optimistic wave passing by your human politely.
The very first thing you did once through the main entrance, was check your timetable. There was a small panel you had been looking forward to- you certainly did not want to miss it.
That event was saved for later in the noon, it seemed, so you decided to instead take your own tour around the meet and greet booths- as a way to kill time. You might chance your luck in seeing some of your well liked idols.
To the location, you walked beside yourself with subtle joy.
You trailed around some tables for a bit, smiling brightly when you saw the faces of fans light up quite nicely as they came face to face with someone they have looked up to for so long.
Eventually, you found yourself stumbling upon a booth you recognized as Pewdiepie’s. You remembered briefly seeing many of the Swedish gamers videos and liking him instantly because he was quite funny.
And admittedly, a little cute.
Awfully surprised he didn’t yet have a girlfriend, you suddenly felt subconscious.
Stopping solidly on flat feet- you stared blankly at Felix as he interacted with his fans and friends. You might have loved to go up, and speak to him as well. But, you felt held back by your voice.
More specifically- your accent.
But, gradually something- you weren’t sure what- pulled a long smile onto your face. You let it sit.
It may have either been the way he so calmly conversed with his people, or the kind expression he held high. But regardless, you wished to talk to him.
Without much other memory, you were once again in a waiting lineup. Except, the situational difference was that this atmosphere didn’t convey a giddy excitement.
You were warm.
But again, just as easily, time went fast and so did the line.
Suddenly, what you heard was:
“Hello~! How are you?”
The words sounded funny and had an accent curled around them as well. You must have reached the front of the line already.
Your (e/c) eyes wandered up, until they were paired with two blue ones.
Smiles now cased both yours, and his face.
“Hello..?” he asked again, followed by a slow chuckle.
Ah shit. You didn’t think this through.
You didn’t want to speak until it was really necessary. That was okay? Right-? Yeahh, that was aloud.
So instead, you smiled wider- in a very sweet way and kindly offered your hand.
Felix chuckled again funnily and cocked his head a bit. He as well, reached up.
But he went for a bro fist and you, well you wanted just a handshake.
You both stopped- and so did everything else. Looks like you found a way to fuck up.
“Sorry,” you mumbled timidly, reshaping your hand into a fist to cater to the male’s request.
But of course, God twisted his will, and he changed himself to suit a handshake instead- accidentally bumping your head in the process. Your duo was stuck looking down, trying hard to fix some horrendous mistakes.
This shifting went back and forth for several long seconds. Awkward chuckles being tossed around making everything just a tad more cringy.
Alright, this seems necessary.
“Ahh,” you winced slightly before speaking, retracting your hand in a soft movement “I’m sorry.”
A thick German accent rolled clear from your mouth, given a gentle feminine touch from your features and tone.
“I didn’t mean to be this cringy- or, well, cringy at all.” you started to drabble a bit, looking up at Felix’s face with sad eyes.
“I know that you don’t like handshakes, sorry about that. I just didn’t want to talk much because, well, reasons. But sorry- for this I mean. And sorry for–”
Felix laughed once again, this time with a sweet twist. He sighed in a gentle exhale and reached to lightly grasp your hand.
He bowed smoothly, about as smooth as a swearing gamer could, and kissed your knuckles. There was an undertone of awkward hesitation, and you realized he probably had to tell himself to be bold.
But you found it oddly adorable.
“It’s alright.” he beamed at you.
“I find it cute- the way you are apologizing.” he went on, standing up right. The swede’s smile could put the full moon to shame.
You were starstruck.
For the last time, the man in front of you cocked his head and reached to cup your lower back. He pushed you forth, out of line so that he may talk to the next person.
“See you soon.” was the last line he spoke to you.
That was completely, and utterly, unexpected by you. You might have never imagined someone you barely knew would flirt with you and– give you a slip of paper? Yeah.
You were right. He slipped it into your palm as he grabbed your hand.
As you stumbled dumbly away from the Pewdiepie booth, you unscrambled the small paper and inspected it.
Certainly not for the last time today, you grinned brighter than ever before.
“ What a lovely voice you have. Please, I would love to hear it more. Meet me afterwards
(A/n): was that two hours? did I post it in two hours- I wan’t counting