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wososcripts · 5 months

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I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together.

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here."

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child.

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice.

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?"

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June."

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about."

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on.

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura.

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood.

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded.

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling.

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!"

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you.

You gave her a smile which she softly returned.

“What are you two up to?”

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise.

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more.

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.”

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm.

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were.

“How are you doing?” Stina asked.

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally.

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know.

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly.

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent.

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully.

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The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed.

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway.

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering.

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted.

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue.

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy.

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches.

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said.

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this.

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much?

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina.

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings.

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle.

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced.

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more.

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations.

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently.

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off.

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.”

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her?

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind.

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly.

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap.

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder.

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile.

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway.

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile.

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back.

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled.

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

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After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time.

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself.

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.”

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.”

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit.

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers.

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.”

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked.

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful.

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—”

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down.

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up.

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts.

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed.

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently.

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.”

Stina looked at you, confused.

“They did? What did they say?”

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation.

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.”

Stina shook her head, laughing.

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant.

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained.

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved.

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.”

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach.

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips.

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.”

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

#hope you all enjoy !#and happy new years eve-ish #arsenal x reader #stina blackstenius #stina blackstenius x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #laura freigang #stina blackstenius imagine #my writing

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hwsing · 1 year

Note

hi oh my god that giving head post was something else. if you’ve got the motivation to write, i’d love to see a 2p version if the characters/one with russia, germany, prussia, and romano

giving head pt. 2

warnings/notes: 18+, reader is afab and gender neutral. includes: russia (ivan braginsky), germany (ludwig beilschmidt), and s. italy (lovino vargas). as always, reblogs are appreciated. also, glad you enjoyed the last one! <3

☆ ivan braginsky

ivan can seem a bit reluctant about sexual things at times, but not out of a desire to not partake. in reality, he’s simply unused to intimacy — even if he isn’t a virgin, he can’t help but feel like he’s lacking in experience. this doesn’t get him down, though; he sees it as a learning opportunity, yeah? he’ll encourage you to be vocal about how he makes you feel, and even ask you unintentionally embarrassing questions.

he’ll look up at you from where he was between your legs, sucking on your clit and watching as you tilt your head back in pleasure; he’ll stop to ask if you like that, and he’ll chuckle softly against your cunt as you usher his face back into your cunt. he’s quite patient when it comes to this — even if it takes you nearly an hour to get off, he doesn’t mind. he’ll stay for as long as you want, really; he’s just happy to be wanted.

remember what doja said about big noses? yeah… when he tongue fucks your hole, his nose will absolutely rub against your throbbing clit, offering rough and uncoordinated stimulation to the bud. when he realizes this is happening, he’s quick to practically nuzzle into your cunt, licking up and against the walls of your pussy. he’s gonna be eating you out like a starved man, be warned — over stimulation should be expected, really… when you cling desperately to the bed and mewl about how it’s s’much, it makes him feel so proud of himself — he has to keep going, all the way until you’re twitching and crying.

☆ ludwig beilschmidt

ludwig doesn’t seem reluctant in the same way that ivan does — no, ludwig is just straight up nervous. at first, he’s practically sweating as hes lowering his face to your cunt, and he swears his mouth goes dry and he feels almost light headed while looking at your glistening folds. he is so ridiculously horny, and he feels like a stupid teenager seeing a pussy for the first time — he nearly groans against your cunt the first time he gets a taste, and it’s almost like he’s on autopilot as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer.

now, ludwig is the type that is pretty worried about how much you’re enjoying yourself, if he’s making you feel good, etc — and so, he’ll brace through his fears. more often than not, he’s gonna incorporate his hands — let him tie you up so that you’re at complete mercy to him, leaning back to spit on your cunt as he fingers you, watching the glob roll down to your tight ass. his head’s gonna come down to blow on your clit, feeling his cock twitch as you whine out, before latching his lips around your bud while he continues to finger you. your clit is going to feel nearly bruised after from how much he sucks on your clit; he gets way too into this, honestly. he gets off so much from doing this to you and hearing all your reactions, that you should’ve be surprised if he creams his pants during the act.

oh — he’s definitely curious about using toys. if you don’t own any, and he doesn’t, expect him to buy some. it doesn’t have to be anything totally out there, but he wants to at least try a strong vibrator on your clit as his tongue and fingers work on your holes (yes, plural). the thought of you tied up and unable to do anything but squirm while he makes you see stars… it keeps him up at night, he wants to soooo bad please let him. he’s just a closeted pervert.

☆ lovino vargas

this man is so good at this it’s unfunny. he really, really, really wants— no, needs to impress you. he literally has to blow your mind or else he will simply be forced to pass away. with that in mind… expect him to kiss up your leg, holding your gaze as he spreads your thighs — if you hitch, gasp, blush, or have genuinely any sort of reaction, it’s like points added to his confidence and ego. it reassures him that hey, he’s actually making you happy — and so, he’s wonderfully generous. you’ll feel his calloused hands caress and grop your thighs and ass softly as he kisses up to your cunt, before licking up your folds.

lovino has experience. he knows his way around a lovers body — he doesn’t rush things, no, he takes his time. he appreciates how you taste, the way your spine arches into his touch, the sounds of pleasure you make; his tongue will swirl around your sensitive bud that’s aching from his teasing, and he gets fight off the grin tugging at his plump lips as you whine. making you feel good makes him feel good — it’s a mutual exchange, really.

he’s not necessarily going to go out of his way to overstimulate you, but there really are times when he’ll rest his head against your thigh and look up at you pleadingly after you pulled him off your cunt by his hair. he’ll ask you for just one more — he’s gonna follow it up with some sickeningly sweet words, too, telling you all about how good you taste and how much he loves your cunt, how much he craves it — when you cave, he’s eager to get back into your cunt, greedily licking up all your juices. although, he will get horribly flustered if you praise him, and he’ll grumble about how you’re distracting him.

#my work #hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia hc #hetalia headcanons #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #hetalia fanfiction #russia x reader #aph russia #aph germany #germany x reader #aph romano #romano x reader

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feyofmay · 9 months

Text

The Oak Door

Laurie x March!Reader (aka "Ducky") Summary: At a gathering in london, hosted by Mister Laurence, Laurie gets drunk & the reader is forced to take care of him. While assisting him, Laurie attempts to propose, & the reader is everything but happy word count: 3.8k Warnings: ANGST, literally that's it just angst, also a lot of self doubt from reader

This story is a snippet from my longer Laurie x reader story, Foolish, Honest Love on ao3. If you want to know what happens next, you'll find out there ;P

Also, I am taking requests for Laurie x reader drabbles/minifics in my asks!!! :)

STORY STARTS UNDER THE PAGE BREAK

To say one’s heart & mind works separately is a lie because the heart is an organ that does not think, nor does it hold any greater understanding of what it is. It has no consciousness, yet is unrightfully given the capability to think & know. Nobody truly thinks with their heart or their throat or their liver or their pancreas. When someone says “thinking with their heart” or “thinking with their mind”, they mean thinking with their intuition or their rationality, or thinking with logic or emotion. They create a great divide in thought that, in all honesty, has & will never exist. A black & white. A right & wrong. A sky & sea. Existing between all of these concepts is a great trench, a lack of understanding, that was dug by the hands of men.

In thinking with her heart, the middle March finds it best to avoid Laurie, &, in thinking with her head, she agrees with her heart. All of this to say, for the past couple of days, she’s both missed & feared the sight of his face. It’s easy to grow distant from someone when there’s no possible way to close said distance, but, when you’re staying in the same residence per the request of his grandfather, it’s much harder to remain distant, both in a literal & metaphysical sense.

Within the lounge, where she resides now, Miss March distances herself from the greater commotion of the gathering, in the dining hall, without being fully disconnected, like a hand is to the torso. The walls are dressed in a tender maroon wallpaper with an eloquent & detailed moulding of marble & gold, replicating greek columns, which act as a trim that runs across the ceilings. She shares the chaise lounge with other guests as they squeeze next to each other, and their skirts overlap like incoming tides crossing over one another. She’s unsure if she's become overwhelmed by all the stimulus or simply unable to sense anything. The air doesn’t carry any distinct scent. Oddly, the space around her smells of the sound of bustling people & drinks swishing in crystalline glasses. Around her is noise & people, & all of her senses confirm that truth in a monotone wave. Nursing an empty glass, which she had thrown the contents of into a houseplant & plans to hold for the rest of the evening, she sits within conversation between several men & women, an intellectual hive of people that act more like displays for their attire then beings with bones & blood. For them, knowledge is a sport. It’s a trinket to place on your coffee table to try & impress your inlaws. It’s an accessory to tout & best acknowledge in thoughtful hums & inquisitive gasps.

A man in a matching set of birdseye patterned, taupe slacks & waist drones on about the recent unification of Germany. While Miss March does find the subject, itself, interesting, she can’t seem to hold intrigue in the conversation. Something about the smoke & the long days warping together in England has led her to misplace the inquisitiveness of the young girl who dreamed of moving to Europe & leaving behind the dreariness of subordinate domesticity. While, with age, she’s gained the emotional intellect necessary to process her emotions beyond simply scraping the shallow tide with her toes, she’s also gained the awareness that, oftentimes, the act of digesting her emotions is tiring. She’s learned that the energy used toward emotions is better spent producing something tangible & of worth.

Luckily for her, Laurie’s grandfather is a man in the know, which means he knew several associates with daughters of varying ages with varying tastes in clothes who were more than happy to lend a dress to a young lady. Over her crinoline skirt & bodice, a dress in a sweet champagne shade is draped across her. The lacy trim, not wanting to melt into the dress, itself, is a muted purple, almost a grey, that wraps around her puff sleeves & the edges of the champagne tier, with a silk white skirt with a lavender sheen peeks out from underneath. Nothing about the dress is loud. She feels much more at home in the fabric, especially after walking around in the daunting mauve dress like a living, breathing cake topper, a piece of decor for her employer to flaunt. For the first time since leaving New England & Meg & Hannah’s trusted fingers, she’d had her hair done by someone other than her family’s servant. The trusted maid of Mister Laurence had offered & promised to not pull too hard on the March’s hair. As the maid braided & pinned her hair, the middle March almost cried. However, it wasn’t due to any pain inflicted on her scalp, as the maid’s touch was tentative & gentle. It was the simple act of being touched & cared for, a touch Miss March had been subconsciously craving for since leaving her home. A touch she had forgotten until reuniting with Laurie in the crowded foyer.

Touching her shoulder, a soft hand brushes her & whispers a polite ask for her attention. She flutters her eyelashes, shaking off the weight of the dust that had collected on them, &, with the help of the welcomed touch, swims out of the mental fog she had sunk herself into. Her eyes flitter up & meet with the warm sight of Mister Laurence gazing back at her. Whether the strong scent of candle wax, lingering dust on velvet carpets, & forest breeze eminates from him or the memories of his manor in New England that she spent odd mornings & afternoons in, she’s unsure of. However, it’s another reminder of the young girl she tried to comfort & wish goodbye to before leaving for Lancashire.

“Pardon my forwardness, but, Miss March, I must ask you to join me for a brief moment. I do hate to take away from such wonderful company,” Mister Laurence requests, playing the role of the man wise beyond his years more gracefully than anyone Miss March has ever seen. With a curt nod, not even bothering to bid adieu to the people in the room, she lets curiosity lead her as she rises to her feet & wraps her arms around Mister Laurence’s. Ushering her out of the room at the exact speed that is swift without being suspicious, Mister Laurence guides the young lady to a hallway with no prying eyes or wandering ears. His gaze does not hold the anger of a great man who is weighed down by the hubris of those around him, but in his eyes is something deeply paternal & saddened. Around him, an umber waistcoat & slacks with a herringbone pattern remind her more of a bear then a man of business & wealth. However, her judgement may be heavily clouded from growing up under his watchful eye. While his hair used to be a soft salt & pepper, it has faded to a faint white & grey like the shadow of a tree painted on fresh snow during a cloudy evening. For most, with age comes wrinkles that hide within them their growing envy for the youth that’s being wasted on careless & stupid adolescents. Mister Laurence’s wrinkles are like the rings of a tree, lines that prove that he has lived & seen. They’re a promise that, if one is to ask, he will tell the story preserved in every smile line & crow’s foot. Bending down so his lips hover around her ear, she’s immediately washed in the same sincerity that soaks his demeanour.

“Y/N,” he calls her by her first name, a telltale sign of loyalty & unease from the man, “I do hate to put this upon your shoulders, but my grandson is acting aloof-”.

“In what sense?” she interrupts in the classic March fashion, &, used to this speech pattern, he continues speaking over her.

“And, while I don’t wish to make you pay for his poor decisions, I have an important associate that I do need to impress,” he explains to her as his hand returns to her shoulder, “And you and I are both well aware that no servant is paid well enough to have to deal with my grandson’s… ”

“Stubbornness?”

“...Tenacity.”

Both finish his sentence at the same time & share a gaze that communicates that neither are completely wrong with their wording. Nodding his head to agree with her, he looks away at the hall ahead. No paternal figure wants to admit their children’s faults. To say a truth is to make it known, but to admit a truth makes it tangible. She can feel the glass ball that rolls up & down his throat, ever so often bobbing at the opening to his stomach. Hiding beneath his heavy wool morning coat, his shoulders tense while trying to protect the rest of his body.

“A servant caught him with several other young women & clearly inebriated,” he reveals to her, & the edges of his lips quiver & twitch as they are tugged by invisible strings into a frown. His words dig a hole into her chest. All that remains is her skin, which caves in & sags where her sternum once was. It leaves a tingling sensation where her muscles & bones used to rest. She feels that Mister Laurence is speaking of a different grandson, which she has never met. What happened to the young boy who would treat her childish fears with utmost sincerity? What happened to the boy who made pinky promises seem like the most honourable pacts a man could make? What monster, what man had stolen the skin from him & now wears it as a costume?

“I’ll confess. I’m unsure of where I went wrong with him,” Mister Laurence slips out between hushed lips, telling his secret to the wind & Miss March. Pausing to swallow his words, she furrows her brows & purses her lips. Swimming in her mind, she can’t think of any words that can comfort him in this moment of vulnerability. So, rather than speaking, she wraps her arms around the older man & hugs him tightly. Surprise washes him over as she squeezes his ribcage tightly, &, for a moment, he freezes as his eyes dart around to try & catch leering gazes peaking around the corner. But they are hidden in the inky shadows of the hallway. With a long exhale, Mister Laurence allows his tension to escape, & he swallows her in his embrace..

“You worry about business, and I’ll worry about Laurie,” she comforts him while pulling away, pausing to fix his bowtie, “He’s very lucky to have a grandfather that’s as kind and loving as you.” Mister Laurence smiles at her reminder as the rosy glow on his cheeks alights the hallway for a moment. Each breath they take in the space that they share feels like it fills each corner of their lungs. Nodding to her, a silent show of gratitude, he leads her to an oak door which lays slightly ajar. Holding the nob, he turns back to her before speaking.

“Thank you for your assistance. He’s in here,” Mister Laurence informs her, & he slowly swings the door open. Immediately, the souring scent of wine hits her face, &, as an instinct, her nose scrunches up & a grimace stains her lips. Splayed out on a couch, dishevelled & basking in his own ruin, she sees more of a strange, unfamiliar man than the boy that she knew. She sees a man that will grow to be discontent with his wife, yet who stays for the kids. A man who never really loved his children but is patiently waiting for the fulfilment that comes from acting in the role that society has told him to. A man who will never be fulfilled. A man that has learned that he must settle for what he has, quietly & miserably. A miniscule part of Miss March relishes at the idea that he’d have to learn how cruel the impartial hand of life can be, but the rest of her is well aware that Laurie will never know “enough”. He’d love his wife, even if she loved another man. He’d work to provide for his kids, &, if the wife was never around, he’d raise them all on his own. He’d move mountains to try to find the better side of “enough”. Laurie will love & love because that is Laurie’s nature. He loves wine & women. He loves trekking through forests & acting a fool, even in public spaces. He loves to engage in conversation while in the company of the March sisters, where no sentence is ever finished & nothing is ever truly said but the quiet “I love you” that rattles around in the pauses between words for a quick draw of breath. Laurie loves Jo. Laurie will continue to love, & love will truly be the cause of his death. Yet, Laurie will find a way to love the silent & cold hand of what lies beyond in a way that no person has ever done before. Miss March cannot even entertain the idea of Laurie living a life that is just “enough” because, to her, his company is more than enough. It is good. It is plenty.

That same man has tossed away his vermillion silk tie & waistcoat, leaving him in a starch white shirt that’s a third of the way unbuttoned & hastily tucked into raven black slacks. Closing the door behind her, the click of the door knob alerts him to her presence. However, his verdant eyes don’t move to meet her as he stares through strands of his messy chocolate hair & up at the silver ring that he often displays on his pointer finger.

“Are you here to scold me, oh my dear mother?” He asks to the wind, acknowledging her existence. Miss March inhales deeply as the beating of her heart starts to drown out the sound of her breath. Clasping her hands together, she tentatively begins to make her way over to the cobalt ottoman that rests near the matching couch. The room is a demure periwinkle with small etchings of leaves adding a splash of muted emerald to the room.

“No, Laurie. Your grandfather asked me to keep you company,” she tries to ease his nerves as she inches closer.

“No, he told you to keep me away from the guests as I am his greatest failure,” Laurie shoots up at her words, sitting up far too fast for his drunken mind to handle. A warbling groan of pain slips out of his mouth as he rakes his fingers through his hair & clutches his throbbing head. At the sight of his agony, Miss March rushes to him &, readjusting his legs, sits on the edge of the couch cushion, right in front of him. With a tender touch, she gently wraps her fingers around his wrists & rubs small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, shush, you’re as much of a failure as I am a dancer,” She teases him with a sympathetic smile. At her words, a small & raspy chuckle escapes his lips &, tilting his head, his celadon eyes, in which the fields of Elysium hide, gaze up at her. Hiding beneath a smoke of anger, she’s able to see the young boy that she grew up with. The young boy that she once fell in love with. He’s scared & small & all the things a child is never allowed to be.

In this moment, as much as she despises it, she knows she must admit her faults to him & ask for forgiveness. She was cruel & unjust for bringing up Jo with the intent of spitting in his face. She hurt him with the intention of leaving a mark, & she succeeded in doing so. If he doesn’t ever forgive her, she’ll grow to understand. It won’t be an easy process, but loving Laurie has never been anything close to easy. Taking a deep breath, she shoves the racing thoughts out of her vision & looks him in the eyes.

“I apologise for what I said in the alley, concerning your feelings for Jo. I shouldn’t’ve ever used them to hurt you,” she apologises quickly, &, after speaking, immediately purses her lips together & stares at him. She waits for him to scream. To yell at her to get out. To say he hates her & never wants to see her again. To tell her he always hated her. That he only tolerated her for Jo. To say she’s stupid. She’s vile. She’s not worth Jo or Meg or Beth or Amy’s time. She waits for him to tell her the truth she’s been too scared to say to herself aloud. She waits & waits until, finally, his lips part, & he draws a quick breath.

“It’s alright. I was being mean too, and I, truly, do owe you many apologies, as well, ” he replies with a thin smile, replaying the events in his head. Ducky’s stomach squeezes as relief floods her system, & she sharply inhales while attempting to keep some kind of composure. A tight smile graces her features, slipping past her facade of propriety & decorum.

“I’ve been spending this past year, & some odd months, wallowing in my own melancholy, but,” Laurie pauses for a moment, slouching forward so his eyes are level with Ducky’s, “but I cannot waste away my life being miserable. If money is truly of the highest concern, then marry me.” His words grab her by the neck, shove their long, spindly fingers down her throat, wrench the breath from her lungs, & pry the air out of her. Her mouth falls agape as she struggles to comb through & fully understand what he’s said.

“Laurie, I refuse-”

“You won’t have to work, nor do you have to love me, & your family will be provided for: Beth, Amy, Marmee, everyone,” he prattles on, afraid of the nearing rejection that comes when he stops to breathe. Ducky can’t hear anything other than her own heartbeat & what, to her, sounds like the faint whisper of Laurie’s voice. She can’t even hear herself think.

“You’ll be happy, I promise. Everyday I will spend in honest devotion to your happiness,” he’s breathless as he finishes his speech, &, feeling the walls begin to collapse in on her, Ducky jumps to her feet. Rushing back & forth, in front of her very eyes, are countless memories of Jo & Laurie, of the way it’s always been. Jo loves her work. Laurie loves Jo. Ducky was left to love the footprints Laurie had left while chasing after Jo.

“Laurie, I, as a woman, must either enter a marriage for security or for love,” she whispers out as her arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her sides tightly, “while you can marry for any reason under the sun, and I will not be an accomplice in allowing you to waste that privilege.” The room grows smaller, the air between them thinner. It’s hard to breathe & her vision becomes a swirl of blues & greens with a spotty pillar of white & black wiggling around in the centre. Laurie stops, & Ducky stops. Neither move. Neither speak. Neither breathe. The walls stop moving, & everything around them fades into their shadows. They are a boy & a girl. A lady & a man, all grown up & yet the exact same as they were the day that they met. While his previous proclamations were loud & steady, the words he speaks next are a promise meant only for his lips & the spirits that hide in peoples’ breaths.

“But I can give you both, love and security, if you’d allow me. I’ll inherit my grandfather’s wealth, and we could be happy, all of us.”

Clear on his face is the same sincerity that he’s gifted to her in every moment of embarrassment & shame. His eyes stay glued to hers. After waiting for years for him to say these words to her, she can’t help but feel his admittance is fake. That maybe his words are meant for someone smarter, braver, older, & better then she is. His words are meant for Jo.

“No, no, you don’t get to, this isn’t right,” she bites back, walking backwards & grasping for the door knob yet only finding the air between her fingers, “Stop it, Laurie, please.”. He follows her, &, in his drunken state, collides with the furniture, sending his body awry.

“Yes, yes I can, and we both know it to be true,” he tries to correct her as he raises his hands to grip her forearms. Her shoulders immediately tense at his touch. His fingers crinkle the poofy champagne fabric that delicately floats around her skin.

“You’re acting a fool, Laurie-”

“I can, I swear on my life Y/N, I am able and I am willing and, and content to do so.”

“-I won’t allow it, I simply cannot,” she continues to ramble on, & her finger tips brush against the cool metal of the doorknob. Laurie opens his mouth to rebuke her statement, but, before he can, her palm flies up & presses against his lips. Covering his mouth with her hand, she shakes her head as her eyes gleam with tears.

“Please, stop. It hurts, Laurie. Please, Laurie, you’re hurting me,” she pleads to him as her fingers curl around the door knob, “I cannot do it. You broke my heart once already. Is that not enough for you?”

To watch the boy she admires fall in love with her sister, who she’s loved since the dawn of time, was a constant, real ache that left her sobbing into Beth’s chest as she begged Meg to help her & relieve her of the pain, which was an impossible task. After the middle March had left for Europe & caught word of Jo’s rejection in a letter from Beth, she had a heavy heart knowing that the two people who were connected at the hip for all of her adolescence had now grown cold & distant. It was as if she’d heard that the moon no longer followed the sun, leaving the night cold & bleak. All she has done her entire life is labour & hurt for those she loves without question or complaint. However, she cannot look Laurie in the eyes as he slurs out ideas that would’ve sent her younger self spinning & giggling with a maddening joy. She cannot withstand that pain for him. She doesn’t feel happy or sad. Nor is she angry or scared. All that she can feel is the heavy pounding of her heart & a dull ache emanating through her. The pain swallows her mind, &, while her body still remains, Ducky has clearly fled far from the room. She’s racing down the streets in her dress, seeing how far her legs will take her.

She yanks the door open just before he can reply & heaves her body through, slamming the door shut after her. Leaning her weight against the slab of carved & varnished oak, a few tears trickle down her cheek as she chokes back a sob, not wanting to alert any guests nearby. In her mind, she’s already ran all the way back to New England. There, back in her home, she lies, hiding her tears in Beth’s dress, as her sisters practically cocoon her, protecting her & the fire from the harsh reality of the world that waits outside their loving embrace & on the other side of the oak door.

i told you it's literally & only just angst... sorry. please like & repost :)

#timothée chalamet #theodore laurence x reader #laurie x reader #little women 2019 #laurie laurence #laurie laurence x reader #louisa may alcott #little women #timothee chalamet fanfiction #little women fanfiction #laurie laurence fanfiction

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atom-writings · 9 months

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Summer time! May I ask what the axis (Prussia and Romano) have planned for the beach with their s/o versus the reality of the trip? 😂

Oh, to make this more fun I want this to be a group trip.

Happy Summer! ☀️

hetalia axis on a group beach trip with their s/o

1.1k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: they think ur hot. lol. thats it.

a/n: since this is my last weekend of summer its a perfect time to do this :sobsobsob: sorry anon

Italy

Expectation

There'll be plenty of pretty girls for him to flirt with! And more importantly, one VERY pretty person that he's gonna flirt with the most.

Hopefully, this time, he won't put one foot in the water and immediately shriek about how freezing it is.

He'll spend as much time with you as he does with his friends! Plus, now you can be closer to them! Hooray!

Maybe he'll get a little bit of a workout. He's not a big swimmer, but he'll try his hardest, just to impress you.

Reality

He'll spend a little too much time trying to get Kiku to get out of his shell. If you suggest that maybe he just doesn't want to... Feliciano is taking it as a personal challenge.

He doesn't get a lot of swimming done. Just enough to balance out the ice cream he got for the two of you.

He ends up teasing Ludwig a lot about how girls are staring at him-

He usually only gets hit by Romano twice! (To be fair, he was totally asking for it.)

He'll drool over you for an... uncomfortable amount of time. Luckily, he knows how to be subtle. His words are absolutely NOT subtle though!

If no one knew you were dating him before, they will now.

He cannot stop kissing you.

He can't help it, ok? You're just too cute in that swimsuit!

Germany

Expectation

Everyone will enjoy his homecooked snacks and NOT spend money unnecessarily on some overpriced trash-

He'll only have to remind you and everyone else to put on sunscreen once, and will actually do so when he tells them to.

Feliciano will not hit his head on the bottom of the pool diving again, and if he does, Ludwig will not be the one who has to drive him to the doctor. Again.

Nothing will go wrong. Okay, something will go wrong, but it'll be something minor... please...

Reality

All of his friends constantly interrupt the two of you and drag you off to do something stupid

He was so careful! But... he still got sunburned on his back.

Halfway through the trip, he's done swimming because he's tired of Romano splashing him in the face when he's trying to get some ACTUAL EXCERCISE-

One of the lifeguards is a stupid teenager and of course, Ludwig is the one who ends up saving some poor kid. (He did not have to volunteer! But you know, “If I didn't, who would?”)

Everyone stares because god lord that man is shredded to hell and back.

( Someone tries hitting on him and he's so uncomfortable he pretends he doesn't speak English and runs away)

He still has a lovely time, because you're around, and that's all he needs to be happy.

Japan

Expectation

No one will talk to him. No one will look at him. It will not be too hot and he won't have to swim. Please. Please do not make him swim.

Actually, you can talk to and look at him. Maybe Ludwig can. But only that.

Hopefully, he won't be forced to eat terrible beach food. He packed a sandwich. That's enough, right?

All he wants is to sit in the shade with you and read quietly, away from all the noise and heat of the beachfront.

Reality

Feliciano is gonna drag him in the water, and he'll trip. And fall. Into the water. And he'll be all wet for the rest of the day. And he'll hate it. So much.

Barely gets to read his book for multiple reasons.

Halfway through the trip, he's completely wiped out from the heat. You'll probably have to help with sunscreen, too.

Anytime any of you bring him down to the water, he tries to bring up a bunch of random facts to get you to stop.

(”Don't you know there's jellyfish in this country? I do not want to get stung!“ ”THIS IS A LAKE!“)

Kiku is much more suited for an arcade than a beach. He's too much of an old man for it. He's glad you're having fun, though.

Romano

Expectation

You'll pass out from how hot he is

He WON'T give in and eat any of the disgusting, insulting beach food.

He'll be able to completely ignore everyone but you, including the stupid, loud Germans!

The heat won't bother him. He's a Mediterranean country for god's sake, he's used to it being hot!

Hopefully, and he really prayed for this, he'll get a nice tan and not more sunburnt.

Feliciano won't interrupt his peace and relaxation. And if he does, he won't run away as Romano tries to smack him with a rolled-up magazine.

Reality

He ends up getting super insecure about his body in comparison to everyone else (Cough, cough, Ludwig and Gilbert,) and you'll have to coax him to not constantly wear his towel.

Any time not spent bothering others is spent with you while relaxing in a pool floatie.

He's so unused to exercise that he gets hungry and tired almost immediately.

He tries his best to ignore the other beachgoers in favour of you, but he can't stop getting annoyed by everyone else OR subtly flirting with others.

(He's just in a bad mood, he doesn't mean any of it.)

As soon as he sees you, he can't help staring. He just thinks you're so stunning when you're wearing so little...

Prussia

Expectation

He's gonna get so sunburnt that he's in pain for weeks.

You and him are gonna race in the water, and he's gonna WIN!

He'll finally get to show off his rockin' bod without being seen as a douchebag.

Plus, he'll get to see your body too. Even better.

(I'm telling you now, if your stomach spills out of your swimsuit, he's gonna get so attracted to you, he'll get dizzy and have to sit down.)

When (If) girls stare at him for being so hot, he'll get to show off that he's dating YOU, which in his opinion, you're even hotter than him. Then they'll get jealous and stop looking at him! (Not how that works, but whatever.)

Reality

He's gonna get so sunburnt that he's in pain for weeks. This is inevitable.

Gilbert will quickly become pretty bored just swimming, so you and him will build a nice big sand castle (He insists on making one replicating a castle he used to live in.)

He'll sneak up behind Ludwig and grab his ankles, swimming away before he can see him. Just for fun.

He's gonna ask you if you're drowning. Regardless of what you say, he's picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the water. Just because he thinks it'd be hot. (”I'm saving you, Liebling! I take kisses in payment-“)

Romano will hate it, but Gilbert definitely will try to force him down a slide if there are any.

#heta tag #hetalia x reader #hetalia imagines #feliciano tag #ludwig tag #kiku tag #gilbert tag #romano tag #aph prussia x reader #hws germany x reader #hws japan x reader #aph japan x reader #hws prussia x reader #aph germany x reader #aph italy x reader #hws italy x reader #aph romano x reader #hws romano x reader #romano vargas x reader

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alpaca-clouds · 8 months

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Great Men Theory - And Why It Sucks

When I already rant on my Sundays about historical misconceptions and how history is taught wrong, I cannot help but also talk about the entire Great Men Theory and how much it has influenced how we teach history to... basically everyone. This entire fucking theory goes back to a dude called Thomas Carlyle, who wrote in one of his books:

Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here. They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns, and in a wide sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or to attain; all things that we see standing accomplished in the world are properly the outer material result, the practical realisation and embodiment, of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world: the soul of the whole world's history, it may justly be considered, were the history of these.

And sadly... This way of talking about history is nice and convinient, no matter how factually wrong it is. Because instead of having to explore historical society and what made people back then "tick", you can can do: "And then this one dude did this. And this other big dude did that." And done.

Before I knew about this theory, I already encountered it. In the way many German kids will encounter it. Nazi Germany. Because while we have this big thing going about "rememberance culture" and what not... Yeah, we mostly talk about Nazi Germany, as if Hitler and some of his dude friends, like Himmler and Göbbels, did stuff and nobody else could've done something about it. And we will talk about the few folks who tried to do something about it. This leaves many under the impression that actually Hitler and his fellow friends were subjucating the German populus, who were unable to do a thing about the Holocaust or the war. And that... Just is not how it played out in reality. Most people in Germany at the time supported Hitler, knew about the Holocaust and were A-Okay with it.

And this is something that happens again and again in the way we talk about history. We talk about the big dudes and whatever they did or didn't do. Either as heroes or as villains. But we leave out all the people who were there to either enforce their policies, suffer from it, or rise up against it.

This creates a version of history, in which 99,99999% of all people were basically just "NPCs" in a game played by the few. Which not only does wrong by this majority of people, who might as well have had a hand in some of the things happening, but it also is used as a constant propaganda tool. Be it to ignore, how many attrocities have been supported and partaken in by a lot of people, so folks today do not need to deal with that fallout. Or be it to ignore the man, who have fought for a better outcome - often to either make protest seem senseless, or to make those few great man seem more heroic. (See also: Basically any anti-colonialist movement that got erased from history.)

I am not even denying that those in power had a bigger influence on history than anyone else. But not because they were born with some traits that made it so, but for the most part, because they were born into power through their bloodline, or at least into riches.

And it does not mean that nobody else had an influence, even if we like to forget the "everyone else" usually.

#history #history rant #great men theory #we still teach history wrong #power to the people

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jokeroutsubs · 2 months

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[ENG sub/translation] Bojan Cvjetićanin on WDR.de COSMO podcast, 8.3.2024

On 8.3.2024, Bojan was a guest on the 'Tvoj Korzo petkom' ('Your Friday promenade') episode of the German broadcaster WDR's COSMO podcast in Bosnian/Croatian/Serbian language. It's hosted by Boris Rabrenović. You can find the original podcast here. Transcript by @moonlvster, translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123, subtitles by TWT pastellibianchi.

Bojan talked about the current tour, audience response, the band's history, this year's Eurovision songs, as well as the making of Everybody's Waiting and what kind of an effect the song has on him now.

The podcast is audio only; you can find it with subtitles on our YouTube channel here:

youtube

or read the full translated transcript under the cut:

Joker Out in Germany - Your Friday promenade

Host: Coming up, we're hanging out with Bojan Cvjetićanin, the singer of the Slovenian rock band Joker Out, who are currently on a big European tour, in which they will have several concerts in Germany this month, in Berlin, Leipzig, Hamburg, Cologne and Munich.

The band is well known to Eurovision fans because they represented Slovenia in Liverpool last year. Since then, they have numerous fans all over the world, sold out concerts, and they also collaborated with the famous Elvis Costello. Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin will tell us more about all this. Hello, Bojan, welcome to our musical promenade walk.

Bojan: Hello, hello. It's my pleasure.

Host: After Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland, you will have the first of five concerts in Germany on the 12th of March in Berlin. What are your impressions from the tour so far?

Bojan: Well, I have to say that... this is by far the biggest tour so far for us. So far, it has been really spectacular both emotionally and physically. We are very happy, we are very satisfied, the audience is wonderful, we play well, we feel good on stage, we're full of energy, and we also can't wait to put that into a musical form when we go to the studio.

Host: You sing in Slovenian, English, Serbo-Croatian. How does the audience manage the lyrics in all these languages?

Bojan: Well, I have to admit that so far, we've already done a good number of concerts abroad, and most of our audience is actually from the countries in which we play. So it's not like I could say that much of our audience comes from the Balkan diaspora or from Slovenia. Of course, we would like to see as many people from our diaspora as possible, but it's strange, it's strange to see people singing in Slovenian and Serbian, who otherwise don't even know a word of those languages, so we're not used to that yet.

Host: Last year, you represented Slovenia at Eurovision in Liverpool with the song Carpe Diem. Could you have predicted everything that would happen after that?

Bojan: Honestly, I have to say that what is happening now was our ultimate wish, a goal we believed in, but whenever you believe in a dream, there is a 99.9 percent chance that it won't happen. But truly, what is happening now is like, the best possible result for us.

Host: And tell us a little about the time before Eurovision, how long has the band existed and did you perform in countries in the region¹ even before Eurovision?

Bojan: The band has existed since 2016 and we mostly played in Slovenia. We had a concert or two in the region and both concerts were for a Slovenian audience on, like, those student trips and so on, so we only encountered audiences from the region after Eurovision.

Host: And did you manage to listen to this year's representatives at Eurovision? Do you have any favourites?

Bojan: For this year, I told myself that I would like to hear the songs for the first time when I watch Eurovision, that is, in the first semi-final. Of course there was no way I could avoid listening to some of the songs, since my social media has been flooded with Eurovision content since last year, so I have heard some things. I heard the Serbian song, I heard the Croatian song. Of course, the Slovenian song, which I worked on. I have to say that I really like all three songs, Serbian, Slovenian and Croatian, this year. They're interesting, they're different, so it's going to be an interesting year.

Host: Last year, you released the English version of the song 'Novi val' with the famous British musician Elvis Costello, so tell us briefly how that collaboration came about.

Bojan: Well, that collaboration is... a pretty surreal moment in our life. Completely by coincidence, our former bassist's godfather is good friends with Elvis, and he gave Elvis our first album to listen to and he really liked it. Later, when we released the second album, Elvis listened to it on his own accord, and he liked the song 'Novi val' so much that he offered to write the English version of the lyrics. After two weeks, when we confirmed it, after two weeks, we received an email saying that if we wanted, we could do a collaboration, which of course we said yes to.

Host: What a beautiful story. Coming up, we will hear your new single 'Everybody's Waiting', which was released a few days ago. Tell us a few words about this song, which some rate as your best song so far.

Bojan: Well... 'Everybody's Waiting' is like, I would say, an experiment by our band, a song which, as far as the lyrics go, is actually the result of certain anxiety attacks and panic that I started experiencing at concerts after an unpleasant experience on stage. So it has all been very very stressful for me, honestly, and for these last couple of months, the stage has no longer been the safest place that it used to be for me, so I had to get those feelings out somehow, and I poured them into the song. The guys from the band felt it too, and the producer also felt it, so it showed in the actual arrangement of the song as well, that it's not just a song, but rather we all understood it as a story.

So absolutely, I would also say that as a song, it is the most varied, the most interesting so far, it has a special sound, a little different from what we have done so far. The song is in English, I think it was actually the first time that an English song worked out for me that way, that it sounds good and sounds original, and that it truly poured out of me. So there you go, I'm very proud of this song, and these concerts showed that people love it a lot, they sing it, so yeah.

Host: How much has it helped you in solving the problem with anxiety?

Bojan: Well, I would say that it absolutely helps in some way. On this tour, I also had a moment of panic, anxiety on stage, and it actually ended somewhere in the middle of the song 'Everybody's Waiting', so maybe it kind of works to calm me down, so it has an effect.

Host: Then perhaps it should be the first on the setlists.

Bojan: Yes, the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and last.

Host: Bojan, thank you very much for being our guest. I wish you a lot of success in your future work, and a successful tour. And see you in Cologne on the 24th of March.

Bojan: Thank you, see you in Cologne.

Host: That was Bojan Cvjetićanin, the singer of the Slovenian rock band Joker Out, who are currently on a big European tour, during which they will have five concerts in Germany, on the 12th of March in Berlin, on the 13th in Leipzig, on the 19th in Hamburg, on the 24th in Cologne, and on the 16th of March in Munich. By the way, on the cosmoradio.de website, you can find our concert calendar for 2024 in Germany, with neatly arranged dates of all the performances by musicians from the countries in the (Balkan) region in Germany.

¹By "countries in the region" the host is referring to the former Yugoslavian countries.

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #Youtube

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ghostlytableteehee · 4 months

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Aiden HC

criticize me for anything please

Small warning, there might be sensitive topics so please continue with caution

AhEm

Aiden Clark Headcannons because why the hell not

He 100% cusses on a daily basis. Change my mind. Look at me in the eyes and tell me that this silly mentally ill goober does not cuss on a daily basis.

He SH- I've seen so many people say that he does, and I agree ngl

I forget if he's been homeschooled ALL his life, BUT if he hasn't, then I feel like when he was younger and in school, his parents probably forced him into a lot of things like sports, clubs, etc because they wanted him to be the best (take a look at his parents and try to tell me they don't have high standards.) He probably has a lot of trophies and stuff in a box somewhere in house like the attic or the basement if they have one.

Have you seen that super flexible guy on YT that does all those cool tricks? Aiden would try to imitate him. He'd definitely break a toe trying to do any of those tho

Hes been out of the US before- and I feel like he's been to Russia, Germany, Japan, the UK, and a whole lot of other countries. And for some reason I feel like he can barely speak Russian, but he'd probably be able to count in Russian, max counting range gotta be at least 20

He probably learnt French at some point and now uses it to try and impress ash 💀 Like he'll say some random flirty ahh shi- and ash would be like: 👁👄👁 w h a t -

Definitely has broken into Ash's house. Like he will manage to open Ash's window and sit on her bed until she comes back and she will have a mini heart attack like Taylor did when she saw Ash bent in half

Ngl bro is giving Techcore, kidcore, weirdcore, emo, and alt in general- he has no aesthetic, he just wears whatever he likes

I feel like someone was like "hey, smile more" and he took that a little too seriously

And that's my Aiden HCs- feel free to criticize me for anything or add more 🕺

#sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #aiden sbg #sbg aiden #sbg #aiden clark #Aiden headcannons #ITS THE SILLY 🗣🗣🗣

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distantlaughter · 4 months

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Formel Vorne

Originally published June 2022 by Sven Michaelsen for DB MOBIL (x)

Always close to the racing line: this is how Nico Rosberg became Formula 1 world champion. But what does it take to lead start-ups to the top in Germany? In the cover interview with DB MOBIL, the tech investor talks about his flair for perfect green ideas, his speed-reading course and how he is trying to beat his cell phone addiction by making music.

The man seems impressively experienced in the media. When Nico Rosberg sees the first pictures taken by the photographer at the 25hours Hotel in Cologne, he asks: "Could I get more light from below?" At the beginning of the subsequent cover interview, the former Formula 1 professional wants to know: "How have you perceived me in the last hour?" Anyone in the public eye does a lot of Hollywood, says the 36-year-old, who will open the Greentech Festival, which he co-founded, in Berlin on June 22. New ideas for a sustainable lifestyle will be presented there. Nico Rosberg believes that image is work: "And I've always taken it very, very seriously."

Mr. Rosberg, you became Formula 1 world champion for the first time in 2016. Five days later, you announced your retirement from racing, much to everyone's astonishment. What was going through your mind?

I had meditated a lot and worked with a psychologist. At the start of the last race, I knew that if I didn't make any mistakes, I would be world champion. When I crossed the start line, I thought: Nico, this could be your last race ever, try to enjoy it a little. That gave me the calm I needed to win. When I crossed the finish line, I knew it was over! That's it for you and Formula 1.

Wife, parents, team boss: Who did you tell your decision to first?

In the evening, there was a party where we celebrated at full throttle. The morning after, my wife and I woke up totally hungover. In my bathrobe, I said to her: "By the way, I've decided to quit." It was a total surprise for her.

Did she react with enthusiasm or dismay?

She was completely neutral. On the one hand, she had been an enthusiastic supporter of my career, but on the other hand, she saw first-hand how racing had taken over me to such an extent that I often seemed absent at home. Her only comment was: "Follow your instinct."

Your father Keke Rosberg was Formula 1 world champion in 1982. How did he find out about your decision?

After I announced my departure, I wrote a WhatsApp message to my mother: "Mom, you never have to worry about me again. That was my last race. Please tell dad." If I had told my dad in advance, he would have said: "What are you doing? This is a huge mistake! You're giving up the top spot in Formula 1 without needing to and giving up 100 million euros in revenue over the next few years. That's stupid."

Did he make a scene for you?

No, but he was shocked and didn't understand at all at first. He was my biggest fan and was already looking forward to the next racing season. I then explained to him that I had reached my goal in life and was no longer prepared to give 110 percent every day for racing. That was a very nice moment.

What career options did you have?

None at all. We had our little daughter, and a few weeks after I left, my wife got pregnant again. It was clear that I didn't want to live off my savings in the long term and that my next job should be less ego-driven. In Formula 1, everything revolves around you. This extreme self-centeredness had made me unhappy and led to a disbalance within me. I wanted to become more positive and self-confident. For this reason, I made a promise to myself: In your next life, don't focus on your ego, but on dedicating yourself to projects that help others.

You are investing in sustainability and green mobility today. How many people work for you?

There are almost 20 of them, some of which are involved in investments in green start-ups, others in our annual Greentech Festival, where we bring together the most innovative minds. Then there are our partnerships with companies that are driving forward electromobility.

How many companies have you invested money in?

About 20, with another 100 through investments in funds.

How many start-ups are pipe failures?

50 out of 100. 30 float along so-so, 10 are better off, 10 become really successful.

Your biggest scoop?

Our early investment in the e-scooter company "TIER".

Your most spectacular failure?

A financial services provider in Sweden. Our money was gone.

How high is the proportion of women among founders?

Under 20 percent. The entire tech scene is still a male domain. We can only hope that this will change very quickly.

A founder wants money from you: Do you look at the person or their idea?

First of all, I look at the person: are they driven by an intrinsic passion or is someone just trying to make as much money as possible in as short a time as possible? I need to sense passion in a founder and an incredible fighting spirit, which I recognize immediately because of my past as a professional sportsman. You can modify ideas, but not people.

Two years ago, you predicted in an interview: "The first commercial flights with air cabs will take place in 2022."

It will probably take a few more years after all. We have invested in the German air cab companies Lilium and Volocopter. Commercial flights are due to start in 2025. I predict that a decade later there will be a kind of Netflix for mobility. For a monthly flat rate, you will be provided with all the means of transportation you need to travel within Europe: E-scooter, self-driving cab, hydrogen-powered air cab that lands on the roof of your train station, high-speed train.

CEOs today are supposed to be moderate, approachable, inclusive and politically correct. Successful people like Mark Zuckerberg or Jeff Bezos, on the other hand, are polarizing and egocentric. How do you explain this contradiction?

Many former employees of Elon Musk complain that it is a horror to work for him. I assume he has people on his management team who balance out his stubbornness and ensure empathy. Otherwise, every company will blow up in your face at some point. It is probably extremely rare for visionary founders to also be nice team players. Being uncompromising is part of every great career.

The controversial, billionaire investor Peter Thiel writes in his book "Zero To One": "Of the six men who founded PayPal, four made bombs as schoolboys." Do founders have to be out of the ordinary, have to have a chip on their shoulder?

Genius founders are extreme characters. They focus their lives on implementing their ideas with extreme dedication and tenacity. With some of them, you might think that their successes are revenge on the people who humiliated them in their youth. Toto Wolff, my team boss at Mercedes, said that every great success is compensation for a painful childhood trauma. The appreciation you didn't get as a child is supposed to bring you success in your career.

Peter Thiel asks people who apply to him: "Which of your beliefs would few people share with you?" How would you answer him?

I would so fail this question. Six years ago, I would have come up with an answer: Electromobility. I'm an investor and shareholder in Formula E. When my father heard about it, he said: "You're completely crazy!" He now sets his alarm clock for every race. But wait, I just thought of an answer to Thiel's question: I'm convinced that a psychologist can help each of us enormously in becoming more successful, happier and a better relationship partner. During my time in Formula 1, I worked with a qualified psychologist for two hours every other day. That was more intense than any driver training course.

What did the man do to you?

He helped me to understand myself better: Why am I nervous? Why am I afraid? Why am I jealous when my wife looks after another man without any deeper intention? When it comes to our emotions, we are all so in the dark. They guide our behavior without us understanding how and why. With the help of a mental coach, you can control your reactions much better because you learn to react rationally instead of emotionally. This triggers a snowball effect that changes your whole life for the better. In addition, the psychologist taught me to proactively train my brain with meditation, visualization and repetition.

An example, please.

If I visit a person 100 days in a row and tell them they are an idiot every time, they will eventually believe me at least a little. We often do the same with ourselves. We make the same assumptions about ourselves over and over again until we end up mistakenly believing them to be facts. If I visualize this mechanism again and again in meditation, I can break through it and achieve a more positive self-image.

You also had a coach for speed reading.

Because I don't read enough, I wanted to learn to read faster. Bill Gates reads 100 pages per hour thanks to a coach. A simple trick is to follow along with your finger while reading. This helps the eye to recognize the words and increases reading speed.

A world-famous father, a childhood in the decadent, affluent paradise of Monaco: you could just as easily have become a spoiled good-for-nothing with a drug problem.

I don't believe that children from wealthy families need to have a problem with their ambition. My best friends in Monaco grew up with money. One of them now manages 300 million euros, the other two are among the luminaries of their profession as a lawyer and dentist. All three decided early on that they didn't want to live off their parents' money. Their incentive was to achieve something similar. I was ambitious and thrifty from an early age and never thought about my parents' money. I wanted to do my own thing.

You are bringing up two daughters, aged four and six. Can children's ambition be fueled, or is ambition a kind of natural destiny, as natural as a birthmark?

I think 70 percent is genetics, 30 percent can be influenced by the parents. For me, this 30 percent is the biggest challenge there is in the world. My wife and I attend parenting seminars to develop our parenting skills. Of course we want to encourage our children's motivation, but above all we want them to be happy.

What about your gift for happiness?

My mother is naturally happy and motivated. I find that more difficult. Without rationality and discipline, for example, I would look at my cell phone for twelve hours a day and be knocked out after two days. I have to manage my life with a lot of energy and thought. Otherwise I would make myself and others unhappy.

What are you like when you lose?

My nature makes it extremely difficult for me to lose. When I played tennis against my father when I was young, I left the court crying almost every time. I cried when I lost and I cried when I won because I thought he had let me win. We didn't speak to each other again until the next day. This extreme in me was really bad. In Formula 1, my psychologist then taught me that defeats don't just hurt, but are an opportunity to grow.

What can we learn from you?

Dedication, persistence, not letting go. I recently wanted to meet Richard Branson - which is not easy. I wrote to his secretary, called her and had a friend write an email recommending him. And so it went on and on until I finally got the acceptance.

Have you had any Formula 1 freak-outs like tennis stars hitting the umpire's chair with their rackets?

I'm not the impulsive type. I tend to be very thoughtful, sometimes too much so. I've never shouted at anyone in my life. I'm practising this with my children because they seem to expect it from me. But it's not my nature. I have to force myself to do it.

How do you teach your children ecological awareness?

There is a series of children's books with stories about famous people who are committed to nature. Last night I read the book about Greta Thunberg at home. We also explain why we drive an electric car and try to avoid plastic.

What have you learned from your children?

I bought myself a guitalele, a miniature guitar, so that I don't have to reach for my smartphone every free second. It's in my hotel room. It was my children who inspired me to play an instrument. I'm fascinated by how motivated they are to learn new things. Then I think: Nico, you've become so lazy! Because I'm ambitious, I'm even taking guitar lessons now. I want to become good.

Charlie Chaplin said about the Christmases of his childhood: "I only got one orange - in good years." How do you deal with the lack of scarcity when raising your children?

My wife and I try to exemplify certain values because mere theory is not convincing for children. When we return from an expensive family vacation, I say: "Be careful in your stories not to hurt anyone who can't afford this kind of vacation." Only at Christmas do we break the dams. That's when we overdo it with presents. You can't do everything pedagogically right. And who should stop grandma and grandpa from giving presents?

#nico rosberg #nicology

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alexbkrieger13 · 16 days

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Damn straight that 👑 P should be acknowledged by the Danes.

https://www.dr.dk/sporten/fodbold/pernille-harder-udbygger-imponerende-stime-med-tysk-mesterskab

Pernille Harder builds up an impressive streak with German championships

With Saturday's title, the Danish Bayern Munich star has won nine championships in a row.

In almost a decade, Pernille Harder has never played a season without winning a championship.

That impressive fact was underlined on Saturday when the soccer star and Bayern Munich won the German title with a 2-1 victory over Bayer Leverkusen.

Thus, Pernille Harder, who was not in Saturday's game due to illness, is up to nine national championships in a row for four different clubs.

The 31-year-old striker has been at his best in Sweden with Linköping, in Germany with Wolfsburg, in England with Chelsea and again in Germany with Bayern Munich.

DR Sport's football commentator Arnela Muminovic does not hesitate to call Pernille Harder's feat unique.

- Pernille Harder has been a profile for each and every team, and in many ways it is unique that a Danish player has managed this. It is violent and huge, she says

It is difficult enough to win a championship, but to win nine in a row for four different clubs is almost unheard of, points out Arnela Muminovic.

- She has had to get used to a new club, league and teammates. After all, they are different systems and cultures, but she has still managed to become a profile, she says.

Why stop here, Harder?

When Pernille Harder moved from Skovbakken to Linköping in 2012, it was far from written that the Swedes would win the championship with the young striker. But they did, and the Dane was among the league's best.

Four years later, she moved to Germany and the big club Wolfsburg.

Pernille Harder re-established herself as a profile and won the championship, prompting England's Chelsea to buy her for what was then a record fee.

The national team captain played at Chelsea from 2020 to 2023 and won three championships before flying back to Germany last year and signing a contract with Bayern Munich.

- Although Pernille Harder has been injured quite a bit this season, she has still been decisive. From day one, she has made the offensive midfield her position and is a big part of the team, says Arnela Muminovic.

The Danish attack profile is never satisfied and is always looking for a new triumph, she continues.

- She does not stop at nine championships. She will take one more next year. And maybe again the following year. It is not the end, because Bayern Munich has taken the throne in Germany, says DR Sporten's football commentator.

- Pernille Harder has consolidated herself as one of the biggest in Danish football.

Pernille Harder can add another title to her collection on May 9 when Bayern Munich face Wolfsburg in the cup final.

#pernille harder #woso #fcb frauen #fc bayern frauen

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theangrybooknook · 28 days

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The Apothecary Diaries

What, we are talking manga now on this blog?

Of course!

Ever since I fell into a Maomao/Jinshi shaped hole on Crunchyroll, I have been taken hostage by this story. Needless to say, I immediately went on to read the manga and found myself captivated even further - so much that I am actually shipping Maomao and Jinshi, and those who know me know that me shipping a straight couple happens once every ten years. But the chemistry between them- oh, where could I possibly begin!

But, as always, first things first.

Synopsis: The young apothecary Maomao grows up in a brothel and lives with a physician whom she regards as her adoptive father. On her quest to find new herbs, the young woman is abducted by human traffickers and sold to the Imperial Court to work as a maid. Soon, however, her skills as a healer and her incredibly sharp wit attract the attention of the eunuch Jinshi, whose true identity is a well-kept secret. Soon, Maomao finds herself in the very midst of the intrigues of the court as the personal food taster of the Emperor's favourite consort, and it is there where the mysteries begin...

Truth be told: The Apothecary Diaries did not lure me in immediately. I had seen the manga in some bookshops, but the art style gave me the impression of "yet another shojo manga" and I did not bother reading the blurb. Then, I got a subscription to Crunchyroll and decided to give the anime adaption a try and-- here we are. Now that I have also read the manga and still follow it, I felt the need to give a review.

When looking for manga to read or anime to watch, I can be very picky. I am not easily impressed by what is currently popular and I need a story to grab me by the throat and shake me thoroughly, only to rip out my heart, tear it into pieces, mend it and put it back again. Most anime and manga that are currently popular in Germany are of the shonen genre, which is not really what I am into. But how would I classify The Apothecary Diaries?

What Natsu Hyūga has created with her Light Novels and now with the manga is a beautiful mix of romance, mystery, and comedy, embedded in a gorgeous historical setting inspired by Imperial China. Set at the Imperial Court, the reader is thrown into a fantastical world of pomp and splendour where everything, from things to food to women, is at only one man's disposal. What sounds like a classical harem trope is one only to a certain extent. The system of the court is merely described, not glorified, but also not judged. In that, Maomao is an excellent main character to follow as she mostly observes and makes her conclusions, only to state at the end of it: but it's not my business anyway. I am not sure if I have ever seen/read a main character like her before that draws such a strict line between her own life and the business of other people - perhaps she is a bit like Jane Eyre, but with a passion for poison. The deadpan exchanges she has with Jinshi definitely reminded me of the conversations between Jane and Rochester, minus the psychological manipulation.

Maomao could have easily become a Mary-Sue character with little personality beyond her enthusiasm for all sorts of poison. However, she is a strong-willed young woman with flaws that are entirely believable, such as her assumption that she might lack typical human emotion due to her upbringing. At the same time, she stays wary and follows the advice of her adoptive father to never make assumptions out loud, and to never ask questions, lest she might fall into something that is none of her business and might harm her in the end. She is aware that as a woman not following a traditional path, she must be even more careful, but at the same time, does not judge women that follow or even want a traditional life. Jinshi is intrigued by that, but also by her skill and her wisdom which she never flaunts, but only ever expresses as a passion of hers that she is not ashamed of. It is a pure joy to watch Jinshi grow fond of her, yes, fall in love with her for what she is, says, and does, while Maomao stays all the while entirely oblivious, not thinking of herself as particularly pretty or lovable based on her low social status. Said status does not bother her much and she does not attempt to change it even though it would be within her means to do so - her decision to stay away from what could become her birthright is entirely understandable for the reader and makes Maomao even more fascinating.

The character of the eunuch Jinshi is a masterful mirror of reader reactions to Maomao up until the point where his own story unfolds. Born at court to a mother belonging to an emperor and raised in a golden cage, his true identity is unknown to most beside a selected few that also keep his identity hidden. The purpose of this secrecy is slowly unveiled just as the reader learns of the weight resting on Jinshi's shoulders, and Maomao's appearance at court seems to shake him out of a rigour he has been subjected to for a very long time. Although everyone's favourite at court, Jinshi is alone in his beauty and Maomao, observant in terms of both plants and people, soon realises how lonely the man is and how deep the secrets run. After all, the man is far too beautiful to be a eunuch. But even here, she stays true to her credo of not getting involved in anyone's business unless she is forced to, even as the chance arises to learn the truth.

Especially noteworthy is that while the world of Maomao and Jinshi is a golden one at court, Natsu Hyūga does not shy away from depicting the horrible things that humans can do to each other. Various darker topics are covered: human trafficking, child abuse, rape, pedophilia, the exploitation of women and children in the name of royalty, envy, and the illusion of free choice. The world of The Apothecary Diaries is not a kind one to women - Maomao points that out, reflects on it several times and knows that she, by her gender alone, is viewed as inferior. It does not stop her from pursuing her goals, but it keeps her incredibly aware of her surroundings. Many times, stories like that fall into the trap of creating a female main character that is "not like other girls" and constantly belittles the women and girls that seemingly fit the picture. Maomao might not be a courtesan, concubine, noble lady, or consort, and she might not necessarily have traditionally female interests such as fashion and jewellery, but she never belittles the women around her for their interests or life choices. This is an incredibly refreshing take and speaks of the excellent skill of the author to create a female character that is special, in some ways The Chosen One, but also likeable, obscure, and true to herself.

The manga is still ongoing, and I have no doubt that the story will take the reader down many dark and twisted paths. As for myself, I am rooting for Maomao and Jinshi as well as for the vast array of lovable side characters such as Gao Shun and Ba Sen, the consorts, the courtesans, and many more. I am excited to watch this story develop further and I am glad that I clicked "play" on that first episode two weeks ago. What a jewel of a story I have found there, and what a joy it is to follow the story of the incredible, funny, and absolutely insane Maomao.

#the apothecary #kusuriya no hitorigoto #maomao #jinshi #bookblr #books #literature #manga #review

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horsesarecreatures · 5 months

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Hey, uhm, about that „horse riding is harmful – but they need exercise!“ thread: what is never talked about in these discussions (this is my impression) is how priviliged it is that we can even abstain from using horses for transportation and farming.

And while our lifes have become much more comfortable since machines have replaced horses in these fields, I would argue that this shift has been very bad for nature as a whole. Even if someone does not believe in climate change, they could still see how it was bad that we built (and are building) asphalt streets and railroad tracks through wildlife habitats. And big machinery driving over soil compresses the earth unnecessarily, which makes it more difficult for plants to regrow. This would not be a problem if we still used horses.

I’m also wondering what people who are against horse owning would say to people who live in circumstances where they are still dependent on their animals. People who maybe live somewhere were the infrastructure needed in order to be able to use fossil fueled vehicles is not yet present. Or people who are just poor. Should they also stop riding and driving horses?

All of that being said, let’s imagine the consequences of gradually stopping all horse ownership. All horses currently living with humans as pets will stay with their owners and be cared for until they die, procreation will be prevented. (The alternative would of course be to release them into the wild, but deciding on WHERE to do so is very difficult and let’s just not do that in this scenario, as to not disturb already established ecosystems). Horse breeds which have been living with humans for the past thousands of years will go extinct. All the knowledge about how to feed horses, about horse behaviour and how to interact with them and about how to safely train them to be driven and ridden in a sustainable way will only exist in books within a hundred years. We are talking about skills that, at the end of the day, are more efficiently learned if there are teachers whom actually are practicing the craft. Humanity as a whole lives a bit more removed from nature – although, that is just how I see it.

I hope it’s okay for me to unload my thoughts on this onto you – I’m too shy to write under the post directly, but I really want to get this out of my head.

I live in germany by the way and I own a little pony mare. I don’t actually know her breed, it must have not been documented when she was born. She probably is a german riding pony with a healthy dose of arabian blood in her. I’ve riden and worked with horses for 14 years now and owned my mare for 5. I bought her when she was 11 years old and noone had really cared for her for two years. She spend that time on a pasture with other horses and was slightly malnourished and apathetic then. These days her fur is sparkling and her muscles have developed nicely and she expresses more happiness overall.

Hey, I don't know about the original poster as I don't follow them, but @acti-veg actually addresses your first point quite frequently. There are many people who cannot afford to not eat meat, abstain from medications that have been tested on animals, use horses for farming or transportation, etc. But the definition of veganism is, "a way of living which seeks to exclude, as far as is possible and practicable, all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose.” If a person cannot avoid some form of animal exploitation because of their health or inability to make an alternative living, this does not preclude them from being a vegan as long as they do their best to limit their reliance on animals in other areas.

I agree that industrialization has led to many advancements in society at the detriment of nature and biodiversity. But I would also point out that if people switched back to horses today, at our current population, that would also not be sustainable. There is not enough land to keep them properly without adding more to deforestation, and plowing with horses is less precise and worse for the soil than some up and coming alternatives, like laser weeding and using robotic seed planting, which can eliminate the need to plowing entirely.

You are right that if people stopped breeding horses many breeds would go extinct and knowledge in how to care for them would be lost. This is a downside that has to be balanced against the upsides, like no more halter horse monstrosities, no more horses being dumped & shipped to slaughter, and the potential for farmland to be re-wilded which would increase biodiversity.

It's totally ok to share your thoughts here, and your pony sounds super cute!

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 10 months

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Hi hi hi hi hii!! Can you do Tom Kaulitz with Polish male reader or gn reader? Your decision. There's like zero fanfics about Polish readers, it's usually Mexican, Korean. Maybe Tom visits his s/o in Poland for a couple of weeks and it's all cute, like Tom tries most of the traditional food, pierogi for example. And Tom never heard his s/o talk in Polish so when he did he was like *wow😯*. And reader also know how to bake so they make sernik or cheese cake(I think it's the same thing?) Or just cupcakes, so yayyy cute happy couple.

Love ur fanfics, pookieeee!! 💙

(Hello! So sorry this took so long and I saw your other requests and I feel bad for not responding, DW they're still in my inbox I was just being lazy. But enjoy!)

Tom K. x Polish!Reader

I feel like you being from Poland and having an accent was what drew him to you at first

Obviously later on it was personality and who you are but just you being from somewhere else was cool and hot to him

I mean he and Bill have both said that they like people from other countries/places

He could listen to you talk for hours

Was the one to start playfully copying your words in Polish just because he wanted to annoy you

That or he learned curse words in Polish just to call people assholes or bitch in another language

*Cough* Georg *cough*

But then he would be picking up Polish quite a bit

He also has you teach him to get words and sounds right even if they were the easiest ones on the planet

Just because he likes seeing you and hearing you teaching him

If that makes sense

He could listen to your accent go on and on for hours on end

No matter what language because he is just addicted

But what he did not expect in the beginning was for Polish to sound sorta aggressive

He was caught off guard for a moment when he first heard it, staring at you like

"What did I do?!"

Especially if you're yelling at someone man he is by all means be supporting you but by afar

He don't want to be caught in the crossfire

One time he walked in on you arguing with Gustav

And he couldn't even tell what was going on by all the screaming in German and Polish

He was standing there dumbfounded and fled before anything could turn to him

But even sometimes just talking sounded aggressive but he learned your mannerisms for when you're actually mad

So he knows the drill know babes

Hw loves learning more about you, your background or your family

Everything is just so cool and new to him, and he would especially appreciate it if you also did the same with Germany and his culture

He indulges in your culture 100%

Your family is now his family from the times he sneaks up to visit y'all

Or sometimes just them because he likes seeing your mom and your siblings

Him and your dad surprisingly get along, considering how most dad's get along with their sons boyfriends

He literally loves cooking and baking with your mom

He may suck at it but man does he gossip with your mama

But he does try his best when with you

Mainly with your mom he's sitting on the counter, kicking his feet and talking as he hands her ingredients

But with you he likes to impress you by cooking your cultures foods

And when he tries he can be absolutely bomb at it let me tell you

He had never heard of the dishes before, especially tasted them so he was genuinely happy when they tasted to good

He stole so much and was eating it the whole time

He just loves spending time in poland with you, learning your language and culture, and hearing you talk

He's so whipped let me tell you

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Taglist: @billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz #tom kualitz x reader #tom kualitzs #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x male reader #x male reader #male

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variousqueerthings · 1 year

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Some stuff about queer culture in Weimar Berlin

Note: Das Institut für Sexualwissenschaft does not have a definitively used translation from what I see -- have seen Institute of Sexology (my preferred translation), Sexual Science, Sexual Research, Sexual Knowledge etc. It’s all the same place.

any further suggestions, feel very welcome to add!

ONLINE:

the wikipedia for the institute: yeah, yeah it’s wikipedia, but get some groundwork done here if you know nothing at all, so the next set of recommendations don’t overwhelm you

Remembering Dora Richter, One of the First Women to receive Gender-Affirming Surgery: good introduction to the Institute of Sexology, with a focus on one of the women who lived, worked, and received care there

On the Clinics and Bars of Weimar Berlin: a more in-depth article about the institute, some of the people who sought to get support via it, and the surrounding culture of the time

The Magnus Hirschfeld Society: a lot of their work is published online, in German, French, and English. Hours of fun.

Interview with the author Laurie Marhoefer: discussing his book (mentioned below) Sex and the Weimar Republic, which focuses on various fronts to sexual liberation in the Weimar Republic, including the limitations of assimilationist approaches*

*Marhoefer is currently working on their third book centred on queer persecution during the Third Reich, which “centrally analyzes racism as a vector of persecution,” so that’s something to keep an eye out for too

The Asian Canadian gay activist whose theories on sexuality were decades ahead of their time: an article about Li Shiu Tong, by Marhoefer, who also wrote a book about him (see below). The title really says it all

The Transvestite Magazine of Weimar Berlin: a series of magazines that were published until 1933 when the crackdown on queer rights resulted in the destruction of the Institute of Sexology, featuring examples of voices almost completely overlooked -- transvestites who were simply living their lives

The Institute for Sexualwissenschaft: this blog post goes into something I’ve been thinking as well -- the parallels between the anti-queer/anti-trans violence perpetuated by the German government before, during, and after the Nazis and the anti-queer/anti-trans rhetoric and violence today. Where would we be if all that research had survived? (and luckily, some of it has!)

BOOKS

Der Liebe und Dem Leid: Das Institut für Sexualwissenschaft 1919-1933: a recent German historical account of the institute of Sexology that I desperately want to get my hands on

Sex and the Weimar Republic: German Homosexual Emancipation and the Rise of the Nazis: explores intersectional fights for queer emancipation during the Weimar Republic and its limitations

Racism and the Making of Gay Rights: A Sexologist, His Student, and the Empire of Queer Love: goes deeper into the story of Li Shiu Tong, who was an impressive researcher at the institute and whose contribution to sexual and gender philosophies is being reconsidered at the moment!

Magnus Hirschfeld: The Origins of the Gay Liberation Movement: a biography of Magnus Hirschfeld and his central role in the queer liberation movement of the time

The Masculine Woman in Weimar Germany: looks at the depictions of women who didn’t conform to standard gendered and sexual expectations from 1918-1933 and explores their role to understand gendered lives and experiences at this point in German history

The Hirschfeld Archives: Violence, Death, and Modern Queer Culture: a book I desperately want to read on anti-queer violence in the early 20th century, focusing on the Institute of Sexology and its destruction, which has gathered archival material from “over a hundred published and unpublished books, articles, films and photographs.”

Gay Berlin: Birthplace of a Modern Identity: another broader book about Berlin. I’m interested in the subtitle “birthplace of a modern identity” as potentially exploring the ways Berlin was the centre of explorations that despite the Nazis best efforts are still alive and -- with setbacks -- remembered today

Queer Identities and Politics in Germany: A History, 1880-1945: Idk what to tellya it’s about queer identities and politics in Germany between 1880-1945

ISHERWOOD

British author Christopher Isherwood spent some time in Berlin, notably including a stay at the Institute of Sexology. This time resulted in “The Berlin Stories,” as well as a section in “Christopher and his Kind” (his autobiography).

These stories were turned into the play+film “I Am A Camera” and the musical+movie “Cabaret”

The 1993 Alan Cumming and Jane Horrocks Cabaret (one of my favourite things in the world)

Opening of the 1972 movie

(according to a 1977 biography of Isherwood, he denounced the Berlin Stories in a 1956 essay: “He regretted depicting many persons as "monsters" and noted they were "ordinary human beings prosaically engaged in getting their living through illegal methods. The only genuine monster was the young foreigner who passed gaily through these scenes of desolation, misinterpreting them to suit his childish fantasy."” -- that being said, the people in those books are still very, very interesting and -- despite Isherwood’s initial limitations/biases -- beautiful in their realities)

OTHER MOVIES

Anders als die Andern and Laws of Love -- two movies produced via the institute exploring same-sex relationship rights. I haven’t seen the latter yet (it was only restored in 2021, nearly a hundred years after it was released), but it was heavily censored. The former (with the famous German actor Conrad Veidt as a lead) is considered the first movie to overtly show homosexuality. They’re both on the Internet Archive

The Einstein of Sex: Life and Work of Dr. M. Hirschfeld: by cult film-maker Rosa von Praunheim that explores the opening of the institute up until the 30s. I haven’t seen it yet, but very excited! EDIT: currently watching and it’s definitely On A Budget, but a good rundown of Hirschfeld’s life. On youtube with english subs. EDIT 2: having finished it, am interested in how it portrayed Dora Richter (that it had her in it at all was great) -- not completely accurate, but a labour of love

Paragraph 175: a 2000 movie documenting some of the gay men who experienced the violence of the law under Nazi regime and afterwards. This film is simply made, and there aren’t many men featured in it -- it feels like it’s trying to get the story told before they lost their chance completely. The stories are very brutal. It starts pre-war. One of the men talking is the French author Pierre Seel, who lived until 2005 and received recognition as a holocaust survivor in 2003, in part due to this film and his own memoir

Great Freedom: this actually takes place post-war, but another insight into what Paragraph 175 was. the main character was in a concentration camp, but it’s not depicted. I simply think it’s good, although it’s mildly off-topic.

MISC

this has focused a lot on the Institute of Sexology, but I’d like to read some works on Helene Stöcker and the World League for Sexual Reform

#resources #queer stuff #queer resources #weimar berlin #magnus hirschfeld #li shiu tong #laurie marhoefer #heike bauer #paragraph 175 #die institut für sexualwissenschaft #weimar germany #cabaret #christopher isherwood #queer history #queer germany #germany #queer literature #queer non-fiction #queer cinema

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mariacallous · 3 months

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The prospects of a united front preventing Donald Trump returning to power in the US looked a little bleaker this week.

Let’s be frank they weren’t great to begin with. To an outsider Joe Biden just seems to be too old to be a viable candidate. He doesn’t pass the first impressions test. Look at him and you do not see someone capable of serving another four years.

True, he won Michigan's Democratic presidential primary a few days ago– but he was hit by a significant protest vote from left-wing and Arab-American voters angry about his qualified support for Israel's war in Gaza.

And at this point that second cause for worry, and, frankly, panic kicks in.

The left urged registered Democrats to vote for the "none of the above" category to express their opposition to Biden's Israel policy – and about 100,000 did. Their votes represent a wider chunk of the electorate who could well stay at home or vote for minor Green or left-wing candidates and deny the Democrats key states.

In a deeply divided country with a warped electoral system that favours the Republicans, it does not take many voters abandoning the Democrats for Trump to retake power.

I wrote at the weekend about how the Trump example shows how hard it is to unite against a dictatorial threat. People, or to be fair, many people, cannot put aside their commitments and ally with men and women they profoundly disagree with for the greater good of defending democracy.

On the one hand, they cry that Trump is a fascist and white supremacist. On the other hand, they refuse to use all available means to stop him. Mainstream liberals do not moderate their demands to win over wavering conservatives. The far left sees the Biden administration as its true enemy.

The history of the struggles against Nazism are highly relevant to the dilemmas and the dangers we face today.

As Hitler began his rise to power at the end of the 1920s, the European far left was in the same place as a section of the modern US left.

The threat of fascism was as nothing when set against its hatred of moderates.

In 1928 the communist movement adopted one of the cruellest and stupidest policies in its history, which considering the history of Soviet communism was nothing more than a history of cruelty and stupidity was quite an achievement.

Partly because it helped Stalin in his internal power struggles in Russia, Moscow ordered all Europe’s communists to follow an ultra-leftist policy. They were told to denounce moderate leftists as “social fascists”, and fight them to the death.

Communism’s triumph was inevitable, the party line went. No compromise was possible with anyone who stood in history’s path. Reformists were opportunists and traitors. They were social fascists who were as bad as the Nazi gangs which were already gathering on Berlin streets.

Or perhaps they were worse….

For an argument that is still heard today held that, say what you like against them, at least fascists were honest in their way.

By contrast centre-leftists were traitors who had been “bribed by the bourgeoisie” to deceive the masses, as no less an authority than Lenin had said.

They were hypocrites who pretended to want change while watering it down. Nothing could be achieved until they were swept away.

When Stalin’s enemy, Leon Trotsky, who was hardly a moderate, warned that instructing left-wingers to fight other left-wingers was a sure way of allowing fascism to “ride over your skulls and spines like a terrific tank”, Ernst Thälmann, the leader of the German communist party, denounced him for his ‘criminal counter-revolutionary propaganda’.

The result was a disaster. The communists and socialists fought each other instead of the Nazis, making Hitler’s rise easier. Thälmann went along with Stalin’s categorisation of social democrats as “social fascists” until actual fascists came to power in Germany. They taught him the difference by holding him in solitary confinement for 11 years at the Buchenwald concentration camp, and putting him before a firing squad in 1944 and shooting him dead.

Today there are plenty of Thälmanns who believe with absolute certainty that the discredited centrist mainstream is the enemy.

Here is a columnist on the Washington Post greeting the Michigan result

As I emphasised in my previous piece, his stance is absolutely fine in normal circumstances. US leftists are perfectly entitled to refuse to support the Democrats if Biden’s behaviour outrages them.

But surely only enormous levels of delusion prevent them acknowledging that Trump is a threat to democracy. If he wins, the American republic may be so gerrymandered and its civil service so politicised that it will be a Herculean task to remove Trump and his successors. There are plenty on the US far right who cite the rigged democracy of Viktor Orban’s Hungary as their model and dream, after all.

The alternative is to build alliances and once again history is a guide,

Having seen that their previous policy of treating moderate leftists as Nazis had resulted in Hitler coming to power 1933, the geniuses running the Soviet Communist party decided on a U-turn. Henceforth communists were instructed to support “popular front” movements where everyone opposed to the fascist threat would be welcome.

Some of the most interesting US writers have reached back to the 1930s to find ways of dealing with Trump. In How Democracies Die the US academics Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt found an example in the little-known story of how fascism was stopped in Belgium in the 1930s.

Belgium might have gone the same way as fascist Italy or Nazi Germany. In 1936 far-right outfits —the Rex Party and the Flemish nationalist party, or Vlaams Nationaal Verbond (VNV)—surged in the polls, capturing almost 20 percent of the popular vote.

They challenged the historical dominance of three establishment parties: the centre-right Catholic Party, the Socialists, and the liberals.

The leader of the Rex Party, Léon Degrelle, was a classic far-right figure. A journalist (like Mussolini, and so many other believers in simple solutions) he would go on to become a Nazi collaborator in the Second World War.

Levitsky and Ziblatt wrote that, “the Catholic Party, in particular, faced a difficult dilemma: collaborate with their longtime rivals, the Socialists and Liberals, or forge a right-wing alliance that included the Rexists, a party with whom they shared some ideological affinity.”

Unlike the mainstream conservative politicians of Italy and Germany, who brought Mussolini and Hitler to power, or the mainstream Republican leadership who collaborated with Trump, the Belgian Catholic leadership declared that any deals with the far right could not be contemplated.

"Catholic Party leaders heightened discipline by screening candidates for pro-Rexist sympathies and expelling those who expressed extremist views. In addition, the party leadership took a strong stance against cooperation with the far right. Externally, the Catholic Party fought Rex on its own turf. The Catholic Party adopted new propaganda and campaign tactics that targeted younger Catholics, who had formerly been part of the Rexist base. They created the Catholic Youth Front and began to run former allies against Degrelle."

Right-wing Catholics knew that they must ally with socialists and liberals they normally deplore in a popular front. And it worked. The far right was beaten.

I think popular front politics are essential. But they are not easy or even particularly principled. Go back to the 1940s and you find George Orwell was utterly repelled by communists and conservatives allying to stop Hitler

He looked back with mockery on

“The years 1935-9 were the period of anti-Fascism and the Popular Front, the heyday of the Left Book Club, when red Duchesses and ‘broadminded’ deans toured the battlefields of the Spanish war and Winston Churchill was the blue-eyed boy of the Daily Worker.”

To Orwell, the idea of covering up the crimes of communists for the sake of the greater anti-fascist good was horrific. But that was what the left of the 1930s did. And that was what the British and American governments did during the Second World War. Defeating Hitler came first. They were prepared to forget about the millions Stalin killed until the war was over.

It's a hard choice. But in the circumstances US progressives face, it is an obvious one. There is no argument against making every necessary compromise to prevent a second Trump term. You will have no right to protest, if you do not.

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