if only he was my german teacher

anonymous asked:

SO MY FRIEND WAS WALKING OUT OF GERMAN CLASS AND HE DROPPED SOMETHING AND SAID "MOTHER FUCKER" AND THE TEACHER SAID "excuse me, language" SO HE GOES "oh right its german class, MATHEN FACKEN" AND I KNOW THATS NOT HOW U SAY MOTHERFUCKER IN GERMAN BUT THE TEACHER JUST GAVE UP AND STARTED LAUGHING

motherfucker is literally mutterficker in german but it can only used as an insult whereas in english it can be an insult or just an exclamation of anger so if u want sth to use in the same context just go with scheiße

What a puzzle

Originally posted by wizardfrenchfries

He found his father-in-law in the sitting room that overlooked the rose garden and the fountain, where the western wall was only a thousand panes of polished glass. The sun was setting and the room was filled with the rich, amber sunlight of a late summer evening and the paler flickers from the hearth where drift-wood burned. Belle preferred the strangely shaped, salt-rimed wood to the traditional oak and pine for the unusual dancing color of the flames, the unpredictable shower of silver sparks, the fineness of the ash left in the hearth. Maurice was smoking a pipe and the smoke curled like twilight coming into the room, scenting the room with its sweetness.

“Maurice, I need to talk to you,” Adam began, running his hand through his hair half-distracted, marveling a little at how human it felt.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out,” Maurice said, puffing a little on the pipe, then setting it aside. “Frankly, I’m rather impressed with how quickly you have understood. I have perhaps underestimated you,” he said calmly, with an appraising amusement Adam had never been subjected to before. The older man made a small gesture of encouragement.

“It’s Belle. She’s…” Adam trailed off, searching himself for the correct word, the right collection of words that would explain it.

“She’s terrifying,” her father said plainly. “She’s always been this way, you know. Imagine how it was for me, I could hardly speak of it, of her, to anyone else. And such a little girl, no one would have believed me.”

“I thought she just liked to read. I thought she was very bright, self-taught– I thought,” Adam said. Maurice interrupted.

“You thought you could keep up with her. That it would be easy to do so, no?”

“I found her reading Vitruvius and Taccola, di Giorgio in the library. I didn’t know I owned the books, but I do. We do. I hardly knew who they were but she explained. I thought she would be reading Marlowe or Sidney or Marie de France, getting drunk on poetry, but she is designing a new mill and a bridge for Villeneuve now!” Adam exclaimed.

“When she was four, she built herself an abacus from the clock-work gears she found in my workshop. She learned German from the Belgian woman who made the best rolls in town when we were in Bergues, Latin from the priest,” Maurice paused. “I always wished there was an academy for her to attend, a tutor I could hire but there was no school which would take her, no teacher I could afford. Even to buy her a book was beyond me.”

“Does she love me only for my library?” Adam asked, aware he sounded overly dramatic, the echo of the self he had been before Belle, before the Beast, when he had been the prince and never gainsaid by anyone. Maurice just laughed.

“Of course not, you young fool. She is my daughter, but I’m not blind—anyone can see how she looks at you. But you must see her, understand her, if you want to make her happy—and it may not be easy. She’s not an easy woman, Belle, even if she might seem that way,” Maurice said.

“Go on,” Adam said. He had not yet learned enough humility to ask for the guidance he needed but if it was being offered, as Maurice was doing…

“She read all the time because as odd as it was, the villagers could understand it. There have been women who loved God’s word before and this is France, we have had our troubadours, our lays, our Heloise to Abelard. They could not understand a woman who was an engineer, who could rebuild their crumbling bridge, their windmills, re-design a city to resist the plague. To be fair, I’m not sure where she might go that the people would know what to make of her. But you, you have been several selves already, have been transformed and taught, however bluntly, by Madame Agathe, to see within and to accept. You might be the making of her,” Maurice said, pausing. “And I should like to see it. Her mother was much the same and I only painted her. Don’t do that.”

“I haven’t the skill or the inclination,” Adam replied, considering what a lovely model Belle would make, except that the static representation could never capture her essential quality of action, her mind, her eye, her hand all vital and primed to observe and change what was around her.

“Devote your talents to other endeavors, then. Buy her more books, yes, but also a surveyor’s kit, some broken clocks, a quantity of charcoal and paper, and if there is an opportunity for you to consult an architect, invite the man to dinner,” Maurice said. “You’re lucky,” he added. “You may invite whatever guests will please her and not worry that she will prepare the meal. She has many gifts, but cooking bores her. The kitchen doesn’t take such inattention lightly.”

“No, I gather from Mrs. Potts it does not. Have you any other wisdom to impart?” Adam answered.

“Nothing you cannot divine for yourself. You are intelligent enough, even if you are not her equal. Don’t let her know it and don’t forget it. Now, what vintage will we share tonight? A Burgundy? I thought I smelled some capon…”

Back when I was in high school, I had an ITV German class. If you don’t know what that is, imagine skyping a teacher with a bunch of other schools. Anyways, one day it was just me and another student in the classroom and he had muted the mic, scooted up so only his face was visibly on camera, and proceeded o start jerking himself off under the table. The only reason I noticed was because he had actually kicked the back of my chair at one point and I turned around to see what he wanted.
What even is public school.

nct as texts in my class chat
  • Taeil: #whyareyouallsogay
  • Hansol: that was my plan and if you steal it i will break a coconut with your head
  • Johnny: *at 1am* what was the homework and did anyone do it and can you send it to me. *1:50am* please?
  • Taeyong: you all should be studying instead of writing here
  • Yuta: *only ever writes happy birthday and happy new year*
  • Kun: oops sorry, wrong chat
  • Doyoung: wow! great! i would've never! ever! thought of that!! you! deserve! a medal!!!!
  • Ten: *only ever sends dog pics captioned 'look how cute, just like me'*
  • Jaehyun: i just met my old teacher, should i fuck him?
  • WinWin: why did i even get up
  • Mark: i'll explain the homework to you but you gotta do it yourself i'm not THAT nice
  • Renjun: *the one who always sends the material*
  • Jeno: *uses fish and noodle as insults*
  • Haechan: Guys…I have to tell you something…IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW YOU BETTER NOT FORGET IT
  • Jaemin: Shirts do weird things sometimes, you never know what they’re up to in your closet
  • Chenle: i'll bring watermelon. or some other fruit. fruits are great.
  • Jisung: *8pm* good night, i'm going to sleep
a compilation of things the boy sitting next to me in science has said within the expanse of this week

• they call me cream… cream cheese
• don’t be an enchilada with beans
• dude this armadillo needs an asshole
• I was trying to snipe you bro *proceeds to accidentally run over our teacher with a swivel chair*
• dude… potassium? isn’t that what they put in bananas?
• el chapo is hiding in the closet
• *smacked his best friend’s ass with a ping pong paddle when he leaned over to pick up something* bro I totally sniped you
• *full volume* 360 NO SCOPE
• yeah man I got a point off because I didn’t color it but I don’t care because colored pencils are for girls
• bro I’m gonna start a see through clothing line called “Joey’s big reveal”
• I’m not gay but I would fuck this armadillo
• what’s a romper it sounds like a drug
• our armadillo’s been catching all the lady armadillos
• señora and señorita go together so señor and señorit go together it’s common sense bro
• dude I said smash the bottle with APPRECIATION
• I haven’t screamed in a while
• *with complete seriousness* I’ve been in a physical fight two times (someone asks him with who) my brother (he then proceeds to start literally crying with laughter)
• I only like broccoli when it’s sneezing
• I’m just drawing rectangles dude stop me if I’m wrong
• this survey is asking if any teachers care about me. *starts cracking up* no one cares about me
• German people, aka the germish,
• I use alchohol 4 times per day
• (and one time his phone went off in class and it was a recording of himself singing 867-5309)

2

9/05/2017 - daily spread and journal :)

German reading exam tomorrow!! Feeling confident about it.

May study challenge day 9: how do you stay motivated for a class with a bad teacher?

My maths teacher that I’ve had for the last 3 years was not a very good teacher and I have my first maths exam in 2 weeks but we haven’t even finished the course. Partly because the new gcse is a 3 year course and we only had 2 years but he didn’t help.
Luckily I love maths and I’m quite good at it so studying for maths is not a problem for me. However I find that teaching yourself the course works wonders (and find others doing the same course and work together) I also had the same terrible teacher for add maths and we only had 3 sessions for the whole course so I had to teach that to myself as well 😊

I’ve been thinking about the musical Cabaret for a long time; I’ve listened to all the cast recordings, I’ve read the original Isherwood, and I’ve taken a course on German and American cabarets of the 1920s.  In that class, my teacher called the musical prudish and conservative for portraying cabarets as decadence that allowed the Nazis to take power.  In fact, she said, cabarets were known for their political satires, and were often shut down for this reason.

All of this has given me an idea for staging Cabaret.  Authorial intent or not, who says the Emcee has to be evil?

In this staging, the Emcee would be pretty clearly Jewish from the very beginning.  Not only would he function as a Greek Chorus, but you could see how serious the situation was getting as the joy slowly leaves all of his acts, and they become darker and more bitter.  The first time around, “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” would make him laugh, but by the reprise, he stands to the side and simply watches in horror.  “If You Could See Her Like I Do” would be outright blisteringly angry by the time it reaches its “punch line”, for one thing, with the Emcee almost daring his audience to laugh.  (Or her audience- I would also love to see the Emcee as a Marlene Dietrich-type lady in a tuxedo, who still sings “Two Ladies” with glee, proclaiming herself the “only man.”)

Sally Bowles stays at the end, but while she performs, the Emcee packs his bags.  He sings the final reprise with sad nostalgia as he prepares to leave, and the final verse ends with him in a bare room, in street clothes and no makeup, as he turns out the stage lights one last time.

Why Not Rosetta Stone?

A lot of people ask me “What’s so bad about Rosetta Stone? Why do you advise people to stay far away from it if they want to learn a language successfully? I hear about Rosetta Stone all the time – so it must work well for learning a language, right?”

Well… not so much.

The main thing to realize is this: yes, everyone’s heard about them. But ask yourself: why? Because they pour most of their money into advertising, rather than developing a good product – that’s why. Rosetta Stone is basically picture flash cards with audio, and there are three fundamental problems with it.

1) Flash cards with audio is NOT a very effective way to learn for most people. Language does not function as individual lumps – in most cases it changes drastically, depending on context (surrounding words and phrases, as well as cultural context). However…

2) If you are one of the very few people for whom the flashcard method actually works well, you can do it – yes, even with audio! – for absolutely FREE, by using a combination of Anki (or one of the many other free flashcard apps out there) and forvo.com (google “how to add audio files to anki”). And finally…

3) Most important, in my opinion, is the sunk-costs fallacy. Once someone has spent several hundred dollars on RS, they’re naturally inclined to think that something so expensive must be the MOST effective way to learn, rather than the least, and so they devote all their time and energy to working exclusively with it, instead of working with other products that would take them much further and achieve more results in less time, with less effort and more fun.

I know a lot of successful language-learners. I know people who learned to speak a language primarily using Assimil (one guy even moved to Germany and started working as an engineer right after completing the Assimil course). I know people who learned to speak a language primarily using Teach Yourself, or Colloquial, or Linguaphone, or what-have-you. But I have never once heard of someone who learned to speak a language while focusing their energy primarily on RS. And I strongly suspect this is because… those people don’t exist.

Case in point: I know two people who recently started learning German from absolute scratch. One of them bought RS, bought an iPad to use it on (investing a total of about eight hundred dollars into kicking off his language-learning process), and studied intensely using only RS for a month before I met him at a German-language meet-up. What did he do there? Talk a lot in English about how excited he was to be studying German, and say at one point out of the blue, with terrible pronunciation and grammar: “Three… bikes… are… red!” Because it was the only sentence he knew how to say. I asked him in German at one point “How are you?” and he literally started wiping sweat off his forehead because he was so nervous about not being able to answer.

The second person got herself a Teach Yourself book and worked through the first few chapters in a couple of weeks. I met her at the same meet-up, and she spent about half the time talking in German, saying things such as “My name is X, I live in X, I come from X, I speak English, I like learning German, I want to be a teacher, how are you? what is your name? where do you come from?” etc. All in German, with good pronunciation and no stress or nervousness. I wish I could say this were an exception, but unfortunately it epitomizes the language-learners I’ve met who used RS and those who used other materials.

In conclusion: You can choose Option A (spend a lot and learn a little) or Option B (spend a little and learn a lot). Rosetta Stone is Option A. Pretty much everything else is Option B.

Jeongcheol; “Ice Skating”

day 19 and time for one of the most popular ships ohoho. I don’t really know what to say about this one tbh except for the fact that I left my notebook at home but someone in class had ONE piece of notebook paper that they let me use and normally it takes me 5-6 pieces of paper to write one of these but by writing hhhhella small i was able to fit it all on the front of one paper lmao. Also my German teacher saw me writing this,,,,,,,,, “Oh Anja [my German class name] are you writing a book?” “kiND OF” he said my donut hoodie was interesting today too fun facts


Ice skating was yet another of those tasks that was, in theory, quite simple; one only had to lace up their skates and go, theoretically. Of course, things rarely went as they were intended to in theory. To one who had been doing so all their life, skating was a mind numbingly basic task, really. It was like second nature; gliding across the ice felt just as easy - if not more so - than walking across the floor. To one who had never so much as attempted the activity, though, the concept was entirely foreign, and the very idea of it was daunting. Roller skating was no big deal - but ice skating? That was something different entirely. Such was the dilemma of Yoon Jeonghan and Choi Seungcheol.

Jeonghan was certainly no stranger to the ice - skating was a hobby that he had adopted at a young age and never abandoned. It wasn’t as though he was a top class skater; he just knew his way around the ice. Seungcheol, on the other hand, had never so much as laced up a skate in his life, nor did he ever anticipate doing so. Ice skating just wasn’t his thing, he had claimed. In truth, he was (quite irrationally) terrified of the idea, but it wasn’t as though he was ever planning to admit that.

He had every intention of staying as far away from the ice as he could for the rest of his life, but when one’s supermodel-gorgeous boyfriend asks them to do something with them, it’s really just shy of impossible to resist. As such, Seungcheol soon found himself sitting beside Jeonghan on a bench in the nearest ice rink, skates laced and fear in his heart.

“Are you okay?” asked Jeonghan, concern evident in his voice at the sight of his boyfriend with all color drained from his face. “We can go back to the dorm if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Seungcheol assured him, ever the gentleman as he waved away the other’s concerns. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was his boyfriend worrying about him. “Shall we go?”

Jeonghan smiled, seemingly satisfied with Seungcheol’s empty words, much to the latter’s relief. “Alright! Come on, then.” The long haired boy stood easily, as balanced as he would’ve been had he been wearing normal shoes as opposed to skates. He extended a hand expectantly to Seungcheol, eagerly waiting for him to accept it and join him.

Seungcheol sighed; there was no way he could back out now. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he accepted Jeonghan’s outstretched hand, allowing the younger to pull him to his feet. He felt unstable from the moment that he stood, wobbling already from the shift in his weight alone. Jeonghan steadied him, though, placing one hand on his shoulder and still holding his hand with the other. The first few steps were rough; his legs shook, steps landing more on the sides of the blades than on the edges, but with Jeonghan’s support (both physical and verbal), they slowly became more sure, and he was soon able to walk more or less normally. “This isn’t that bad,” he said, sounding utterly and completely mystified, as though a whole new world had been opened up to him.

This just elicited a laugh from Jeonghan. “We’re not even on the ice yet.”

It seemed that Seungcheol had forgotten that the entire point of ice skating was, in fact, to skate on the ice. He had been building up his confidence, feeling good with his ability to walk, but once he remembered that he was not yet on the ice, any shred of previous self-assuredness was instantaneously lost, his face falling once more. It was then that Jeonghan began to understand the situation, and he couldn’t stop the light laugh from falling briefly from his lips. “Seungcheol, are you scared?”

Seungcheol was quite to shake his head, denying the accusation. “I’m not!” He insisted, though perhaps a bit too fervently for his denial to be seen as inconspicuous. At the knowing look from Jeonghan, the heat in his cheeks flared up and he muttered, “Okay, fine. I’m scared.”

Jeonghan smiled, leaning over and pressing a brief, chaste kiss to the elder’s cheek. “There’s no need to be scared,” he assured him, voice as soft and gentle as ever. “I’m here with you, okay? I won’t let you fall. Trust me.”

Seungcheol grinned like a kid in a candy shop - there was nothing that made him happier than Jeonghan being affectionate with him. He cupped the younger’s cheek, pulling him in for a cliche kiss of his own this time (on the lips, of course - Seungcheol was a romantic). “How did I get lucky enough to have you?” He asked once pulling away, resting his forehead against Jeonghan’s. If there was one thing to be said of Seungcheol, it was that he was certainly quite cheesy in his interactions.

Jeonghan giggled, his own face flushing a bit at the interaction before he pulled away. “Let’s go.”

Seungcheol nodded happily, following along as his mind was now entirely empty of anything save for his love for Jeonghan. The younger had done that on purpose, he supposed, to get him onto the ice, but he didn’t really mind. He’d take Jeonghan acting lovey-dovey any time that he could get it.

The first step onto the ice was strange - his foot felt as though it was slipping out from under him, but he didn’t feel as though he was falling - it was like it was meant to be like that. Curious, he then added his second foot, somewhat surprised when the momentum of the movement pushed him forward slightly. He glanced briefly at Jeonghan, as if it check that he saw him moving, and he was met with a laugh. Encouraged, he continued on. It didn’t take him long to discover that walking like usual was not going to work under these circumstances; lifting his feet straight up felt so clunky, so strange. He watched Jeonghan’s movements beside him and tried to mimic those, pushing his feet forwards and just slightly out. Much to his delight, it seemed to work.

From there, he could only get better, taking his chances and speeding up a bit. Jeonghan followed along easily, glad to see Seungcheol loosening up about it, seeing as he looked about ready to die of nervousness beforehand.

As comfortable as he got, though, he never once let go of Jeonghan’s hand.


Tomorrow’s Shipmas One Shot - 

Soohao; “Pine Needles And Pajamas”

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anonymous asked:

You should double check your German grammar. Your post in German is following English grammatical rules and a sentence in German wouldn't be structured like that. (I'm sorry if this sounds shitty, I'm just a German speaker...)

You’re going to have to blame my german teacher Herr Gordon on that one. He didn’t teach us very well and the only thing I remember is this song “ich bin ausländer und sprecen nicht gut Deutsch” set to the tune of she’ll be coming around the mountain.

Over the years I’ve sort of found out that Herr Gordon didn’t really sprecen gut deutsch either

As I promised, I have translated a few tidbits of Kakki’s profile on his Japanese last.fm page. Said profile sourced itself to his Japanese Wikipedia page but I kind of forget if his wikipedia page has this kind of information up…?

Anyhow I translated these really really loosely so if there’s any mistake please don’t hesitate to point it out! >w< I also compiled more of his facts from around the internet, don’t hesitate to add if you know something more!

More under the “Read More” cut o(^w^)o

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When I was in kindergarten, my school had a ‘Native American Day’. It was a 'pow wow’ where the kids dressed up as stereotypical NDNs.

My parents were both half-NDN, but the sicker white family members had done their best to erase our ancestry, decades ago and even today. But my mother (who is half-Choctaw, which we didn’t know until we tracked down her father before his death) saw this as an opportunity to teach me about what little she did know about her family. She took a skirt and shirt I already owned and helped me sew beads into it, and told me that while it wasn’t the same as an actual Native American dress, a lot of tribes who had actual pow wows would design their own outfits and she wanted this one to mean something to me. That night she told me about her older sister who ran away when she was little, and how a lot of their older family members refused to accept her as legitimate daughter because she was too dark skinned, while my mom took after my German grandmother. I’ve only met my aunt once, and I was too little to remember it. She’s still estranged from some of her family.

The next day my dad braided my hair like he always did and we went up to the school together. My (fully-white) teacher was confused as to why I wore a nice dress and handed me a shitty paper poncho-type thing and a dollar store feather glued to a construction paper headband. My parents were upset that some crappy outfit was the whole purpose of the 'pow wow’, and I cried until the teacher threatened to put me in the corner for the rest of the day. My parents were so disappointed in the school for having a day to 'celebrate Native culture’ by wearing crappy costumes and dancing in a circle while making ridiculous noises, but other than complain to the same people who approved it they didn’t know what to do.

This happened well over a decade and a half ago, and it taught me (and my parents) that our past, our FAMILY that we were trying so hard to reclaim was just a joke to the majority of our world, and that it didn’t matter that we had TRIED to compromise–there wasn’t a happy medium that the white people in charge of my school would be happy with. It was give up or go home.

An Analysis of Oppression as Discussed in Night Vale

As a victim of serious childhood bullying, this new episode really stood out to me.

Like, okay, it was about Strex and the rebellion and stuff, but it was also about what happens when people stand by and allow evil to occur, and the origin of oppression. 

My eighth grade teacher did a unit on the Holocaust in which he picked several “victims” (I was one of them) and treated them like dirt for three days. The lesson, he said, was to give the kids a small taste of what Jewish (and other targeted groups) went through during Hitler’s reign. He told us that it was an experiment to see how we would react to bigoted-esque mistreatment. and let me tell you, the entire experience sucked - I was verbally abused, threatened, and publicly humiliated by my favorite teacher. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone other than my teachers and the other “victims.” My teacher told my classmates to throw paper (“rocks”) at us, laugh at us whenever we made a mistake, and mock the way I stuttered when I talked (he targeted me the most, probably because I was his favorite student and he knew I could take it). My classmates obliged him, if hesitantly. And at the end of the three days, my teacher (after taking us aside and reassuring us that we were actually wonderful people and that he didn’t mean any of the things he said), went up in front of the class and said, “What you just witnessed was the Holocaust.” We all assumed that that was hyperbole until he said to my classmates, “Three days ago, I told you that these students -” (he motioned to us) “- were the subjects of an experiment on the Holocaust. I lied. They weren’t the subjects - you were.

"When Hitler rose to power, only about 30% of the German population supported him. At the height of the Holocaust, that number was even smaller. So why did the Holocaust occur?” He paused, and when no one answered him, he said, “Let me ask you this: did you think that what I was doing to your classmates was wrong?” Many of the students nodded. “Then why did you follow along?”

Silence.

He continued, “A lot of people believe that oppression only occurs when the majority of the population has consciously malicious feelings towards the minority, but that isn’t true. Most oppression stems from a small group of hateful people doing hateful things, and a large group of people standing by and letting it happen. I was the one attacking your fellow students, but you all were the ones who stood and watched - and even participated when I told you to - even though you knew it was wrong.

"The Holocaust is a big example of the impact of silence, but can you think of some smaller ones? Little instances where you’ve seen oppression and said nothing? Tell me, when someone says "that’s gay,” do you speak up for the homosexual community? When you see another student getting shoved and called names by a group of people, do you stand up and tell them to stop? How many times in the past week alone have you allowed bullying, oppression, and hate to stand unchallenged because it “wasn’t your fight”? There are far more good people in the world than bad, but when most of the good is silent, the only voices in action are the ones that preach hate. Is that the kind of world you want to live in?“

I remember actually crying in response to his words. I had seen what he was describing over and over and over again in my life. I had been beaten behind the turned backs of my teachers who "didn’t want another conflict”; I had been bullied mercilessly while my classmates stood and watched; I had been reduced to tears in public, only hearing the “supportive” words of friends once the trouble had long passed. And, I realized as my teacher spoke, I had done the exact same thing.

“We could have done something, Night Vale, but we…chose not to. Not one citizen outside of Tamika and her band of brilliant, brave, children stood up to tyranny today! We all chose to stand down, and hope change would be won for us, and not by us! By someone else, we believed. A hero, we believed. But belief is only step one. Action is step two. Fighting for what you believe is step two. Solidarity is step two. Unity is step two. We did not take step two today, Night Vale! And now there will be no step three!”

That was Cecil’s message at the end of the episode. That was what he was saying to us, his listeners. And that sort of destructive mindset isn’t exclusive to Night Vale. It isn’t exclusive to rebellion. It is something that is seen - seen and disregarded - every day. Knowing that something is wrong isn’t enough; you have to act against the source of the wrongness. Allowing evil to exist is nearly as bad as the evil itself. 

So fight. Stand up for those who are hurting. Make Cecil proud.

mighty-meh-dragon-deactivated20  asked:

OH AND MY GERMAN TEACHER SAW JARED PADALECKI AND SHE SAID HE WAS A GIANT ALL SWEATY AND MUSCULAR AND SHE WAS UPSET BECAUSE HE HAD STOPPED HER TRAIN (once he stopped almost every trains in europe and she was in his train) AND SHE DIDN'T KNOW WHO HE WAS AND I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO REACT TO THIS INFORMATION AND I WAS JUST THERE IN MY CHAIR HAVING A MENTAL BONER AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO ACTUALLY UNDERSTOOD HE WAS FAMOUS AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION

oh my god

SHE WAS THERE DURING THE TRAIN ACCIDENT

SHES SO LUCKY