#putin bad week

[herukapadmajungiansworld]

This week was a real nightmare for Putin.

His Turkish friend betrayed him on all levels.

⁃Erdogan angers Putin with ‘betrayal’ of Azov prisoner release.

⁃The Turkish leader performed a major U-turn over Sweden NATO membership.

⁃EU and Erdogan agree to 're-energise' EU-Turkey ties.

Putin went to war because he wanted less NATO. He's getting much more NATO.

The Group of Seven (G7) coalition revealed a long-term security framework for Ukraine.

Ukraine will not need an action plan on its way to NATO.

NATO is strengthening borders with Russia.

⭐President Zelensky will go home with a cady overflowing with weapons.

U.S. will send cluster munition to Ukraine.

⭐France will provide Ukraine with long range weapons.

Germany announced a new military aid package for Ukraine worth about €686 million.

⭐Norway is sending 2 more NASAMS air defense systems including 2 additional fire control centers, 2 launchers and spare parts as well as 1,000 Black Hornet reconnaissance drones.

Denmark handed over drones for mine scanning as part of the aid package for Ukraine.

⭐Australia will send an additional fleet of 30 armored Bushmaster infantry vehicles at a cost of $67 million.

Canada will send an unspecified number or types of armored vehicles.

⭐Japan will send an unspecified drone detection system.

The UK will send more than 70 combat and transport vehicles and thousands of rounds of ammunition for Challenger 2 tanks.

⭐Sweden signed agreements on the exchange of classified intelligence and defense procurement.

➡️➡️The possibility of supplying Ukraine with long-range ATACMS missiles to be discussed at the White House.⬅️⬅️

⭐Turkey plans to build a drone production plant in Ukraine.

South Africa asks to send Foreign Minister instead of Putin to the BRICS summit.

⭐Wagner boss, Yevgeny Prigozhin refused to let his fighters serve under someone else's command.

😁😄Putin had to weaken his army by imprisoning competent generals😁😄

#bad week #putin bad week #putin loses #fuck putin #putin war criminal #ukraine resistance #stop russian invasion #ukraine war #give weapons to ukraine #help ukraine #i stand with ukraine #slava ukraini

[bopinion]

2024 / 10

Aperçu of the Week:

"When will conservatives understand that climate protection is conservative because it preserves. When will liberals understand that climate protection is liberal because it secures freedoms and when will social democrats understand that climate protection is social because it protects the weakest in society the most?"

(Ingwar Perowanowitsch - German activist, blogger and political journalist)

Bad News of the Week:

Thousands of Russians are not letting the arbitrary arrests by the police stop them from publicly mourning opposition figure Alexei Navalny, who (it has to be said exactly like this) was killed by the Kremlin. Flowers are piling up at his grave in the Borisovskoye cemetery in the south-east of Moscow and no one is afraid to show their tears. A different face of Russia can be seen here. Vladimir Putin has created a classic martyr who was prepared to go to his death for his belief in the cause.

A second critic with reach has now also been taken out of the game: the former world chess champion Garry Kasparov, who is also widely known in the West, has found himself on a list of "terrorists and extremists" for a few days now. He has already been listed as a "foreign agent". This shot could also backfire, and here too a great deal of solidarity can be expected from better-informed and more critical sections of the Russian population. But will it do any good? No.

As there are only puppets of the power apparatus on the committee responsible, there is no real alternative to Putin in the presidential elections due to take place in the next few days. This will be just as much an alibi event as the last elections. Which won't even bother the majority of the electorate. After all, outside the metropolitan areas, this majority consumes almost exclusively state-controlled media. And they get what they want: a strong man at the top who knows what's going on.

One insight from this is the same as that gained from the ever more firmly cemented status of Xi Jinping in China, who, like Putin, wields almost dictatorial power without any checks and balances, let alone a corrective: Democracy begins above all with information. Only if independent media observe and comment on political events can voters form an informed opinion. And then press for these opinions to be heard and acted upon. In the form of a genuine opportunity to vote - the keyword is "people's representatives". Unfortunately, more and more nations are further away from this ideal as ever. In a world that could actually be more enlightened than ever before in its history. But people are obviously too comfortable for that. And probably also too stupid.

Good News of the Week:

It was "Super Tuesday" already a few days ago. And it went like expected. As did the following pre-elections. Two guys who are too old were elected by a massive margin. Because this nation simply hasn't managed to build worthy successors - neither the Republicans nor the Democrats. While the former will indeed euphorically nominate a notorious liar and cheat for the most powerful office in the world, the latter seem to simply resign themselves to their fate: if an incumbent seeks re-election, they concede it to him. Even if his approval ratings are subterranean and his physical capacity is at least questionable.

Let's be clear: if the majority goes to Donald Trump in November - and it will probably go to him if the numbers are to be believed - the Democrats should not complain about it. Because they are to blame. There is only one politician who is currently in an even worse position than Joe Biden. And that is Kamala Harris. She is not yet officially running mate. But since it has never seemed so likely that a vice-president would have to take the helm during a term of office, these two are a duo infernale. A team that nobody wants. Even if that may seem unfair or unjustified.

Donald Trump and Viktor Orbán have just met as autocrats in Mar-a-Lago. Trump publicly admires the fact that Orban is a dictator. What he says happens, "he's the boss". And Orbán hails Trump as the "president of peace", with whom there would be neither the Ukraine nor the Gaza war. Par ordre du mufti. A clear rejection of democracy. Which Biden takes to the extreme by stylizing the upcoming election as a decision for or against democracy. And he is right.

The situation is frightening for us Europeans. We look across the Atlantic with the morbid fascination of a car crash that is clearly on the horizon. And which can no longer be prevented. The whole world was surprised by Trump's last election victory, including himself. I remember exactly how I heard about Trump's 2016 election victory on the radio in the morning and thought that I must still be dreaming. In a way, I was right, because Trump was and is a nightmare.

And that makes Super Tuesday good news in the context of its negative circumstances. Because now we know pretty much exactly what we are in for at the beginning of next year. The whole world will suffer from Trump's ignorant "America First" attitude - politically, economically, in terms of security policy and also morally. But we have been warned, we know it. And we can now prepare ourselves for at least nine months of serious damage for the cooperative US-European axis. And the US democratic establishment is to blame. This swamp should have been drained.

Personal happy moment of the week:

For our stay in Montréal with the children in late summer, we got a great loft in a great neighborhood. Having never booked anything on AirBnB before, the host didn't want us at first - he'd had bad experiences with newcomers who were apparently also being rated on this platform. My wife then had two arguments that convinced him that we wouldn't mess up his loft: she was traveling with Germans, the tidiest people in the world. And she was the daughter of a policeman. That worked.

I couldn't care less...

...that Boeing can't get out of a maelstrom of technical defects and quality deficiencies. As a European, I prefer Airbus anyway.

It's fine with me...

...that Jon Stewart is back as host of The Daily Show. For all his humor - and how that guy always makes me laugh - he's actually a sharp-tongued political commentator and investigative journalist who uses the stylistic device of satire to put a non-partisan finger in every wound he finds. Very good.

As I write this...

...I'm listening to songs by Bob Geldof & The Boomtown Rats. Because I realized that although I can really relate to "Tell me why I don't like Mondays", I don't know anything else by these musicians. It's just dawned on me why... Which doesn't change the fact that I think Live Aid and Band Aid ("Do they know it's Christmas?") were and still are great.

Post Scriptum

The strikes on German public transport continue. Just recently there were no trains for two days and the airports also had to close for two days because of the ground staff. Now, in the following week, there will not only be a strike by Lufthansa on-board staff, but so-called "wave strikes" will also begin on the railroads. These are announced at most 24 hours in advance so that it is - on purpose! - difficult to prepare for them. So the necessary "mobility turnaround" will certainly not happen. Why do we increasingly have the feeling that these labor disputes are being carried out on the backs of the passengers?

#thoughts #aperçu #good news #bad news #news of the week #happy moments #politics #climate change #russia #vladimir putin #nawalny #garry kasparov #kremlin #democracy #super tuesday #donald trump #joe biden #democrats #republicans #montreal #boeing #jon stewart #bob geldof #strike #union #the daily show with jon stewart #journalism #information #usa #viktor orban

[old-memoria]

It’s snowing in May 👍🏼

#what a nice day to put a winter jacket on #the weather like this will last for the whole week #and today is putin’s ‘inauguration’ so the shy is crying (and sending a bad omen)

[softgreengrass]

I’ll Survive

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: happy then sad then happy, requested, supersoldier!r but it’s not relevant to plot

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: death, grief

A/N: thanks for the request!

You and Natasha are in the gym when FRIDAY calls a meeting.

“Come on, is that all you got?” she grins, leaning into the punching bag with all her weight.

You fire a few more jabs, and her feet slip back a little. Sweat rolls down your forehead.

“Attention, all,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out. “Mission briefing in the conference room. 10 minutes.”

You don’t stop your barrage of punches, your eyes locked onto the Avengers logo in the center of the bag.

“You sure you’re ready to get back into it?” Natasha asks.

You’ve been coming off of an injury for a few months now. Bad intel, a trap, a bullet straight through your femur — being on bedrest was your seventh circle of hell.

Instead of answering, you wind your fist back and hit the bag hard enough to send it flying across the room, taking Natasha with it. She slams against the wall and laughs.

You wipe your face with a towel before walking over and kicking the bag away from her. “Sorry.”

“Super soldiers,” she mutters, shaking her head.

You offer her a hand. She takes it, rising to her feet, and leans into your chest. Butterflies shoot through your stomach.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asks softly.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flick down to your lips, and you pull her into a slow kiss. Her hands find the back of your neck, lace through your hair. It only lasts a few seconds before she swipes her foot behind your leg and shoves your shoulders hard.

You land flat on your back with a groan.

“10 minutes, killer,” she smirks. “And don’t ever do that again.”

You’re the last one in the conference room, and there are no seats left around the table. Cap shoots you a disapproving glance as you close the door behind you.

“Hope no one made any weekend plans,” Cap clears his throat. “Because we’re heading to Russia.”

Tony groans obnoxiously. “Come on, really?”

The holographic screen suspended above the table turns on, showing the floor plans of the Kremlin. Everyone falls silent.

“This isn’t a villain of the week, guys,” Steve sighs. “Hell, it’s not even HYDRA.”

You whistle, and Rhodey glares at you.

“As far as we can tell, the Russian government is doing this entirely of their own accord. The only one pulling the strings is Putin.”

“What are they doing?” Clint asks, leaning back in his chair.

“They want to put nukes in space.” Steve presses his clicker and the screen shows the earth and a dozen orbits around it. “That’s a one-way ticket to world war three.”

“And you want us to, what, eat the nukes?” Tony asks.

Cap clenches his jaw. “The Department of Defense wants us to make sure they don’t launch. My plan makes sure Putin won’t ever get the chance to.”

“You want to assassinate him?” Natasha asks quickly.

Steve faces her. “I want you to.”

Your eyes meet Natasha’s through the projection, and you swallow.

“He’s gotta be the most well-protected guy on the planet,” Bruce says.

“That’s a suicide mission!” Clint cries.

“Which is why we’re all going,” Steve says, in that authoritative old man tone that shuts everyone up. “Banner’s right. It’s going to take all of us just to get a chance.”

“Pretty sure assassinating the Russian president is an act of war,” you say. “Number two in command is just gonna send those nukes up and point them straight at the Pentagon.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Then they turn towards Steve.

“Which is why I have a plan,” he says firmly.

You don’t like it one bit. Not one bit. Natasha, undercover for two weeks without comms. Clint posing as a diplomat. The rest of you hunkered underground, waiting for the right moment to invade the Kremlin. It’s almost recklessly risky. And yet, Steve has his full faith in it, which means the rest of you do too.

That night, Natasha holds onto you tightly. She’s terrified to go back there, regardless of what she says. It’s worse than going after one cell, or even the Red Room itself. It’s the man behind the curtain who’s been controlling it all.

“It’s going to go fine,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you further into her.

“It is,” you say. You take her hands and press them into your sternum. You’d only succeeded in being the big spoon a couple times — never when she was stressed. So you stare at the wall. “I mean it.”

“Me too,” her breath fans against the back of your neck. “We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you exhale. “I mean, aliens? AI? Bruce when he’s hungry?”

She laughs, and that eases some of the pressure on your heart. “Worst case, I’ll survive.”

“You always do.”

“I always do,” she smiles. “And best case, I take care of him, you get rid of the cabinet, and Steve slides in his new leader. And we get out of there and go to… I don’t know. The Dominican Republic.”

“The Dominican Republic?”

“Why not?” she kisses your shoulder. “A vacation. Moscow’ll be a pretty intense way to get back into the action. You’ll deserve a break.”

“I’ve been on a break for three months,” you snort.

“Oh come on, you don’t want a piña colada? Palm trees? White sand beaches?”

“Well when you put it like that,” you say, turning around to face her. “I guess we could go to the Dominican Republic.”

She smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Promise?”

You could stare into the green of her eyes forever. “Promise.”

Not three weeks later, you sit staring at a computer screen in a bunker a hundred feet below Red Square. Tony sits to your left. There’s no point in watching the feed, since all of the cameras are outside of the Kremlin and Natasha walked in an hour ago, but you can’t help it. You feel powerless.

For ten days, Natasha has been Alina Konstantinovna Petrova, a middle-aged politician who just got back from a stint in Belarus. When she emerged wearing the nanotech mask for the first time, you genuinely didn’t recognize her. Her voice, her gait, her mannerisms — all changed. Sometimes you forget she’s the world’s greatest spy.

But with no comms and no tracker, all you have is your faith in that fact. Just your trust in her.

If she’s on schedule, she should be having tea with the Prime Minister, but really she could be anywhere, doing anything. There’s absolutely no way for you to know.

“You know,” Wanda sighs, tipping back in her office chair and tossing a tennis ball into the air. “I don’t think all of us had to be here.”

“Agreed,” Tony grumbles. “I was supposed to be at a gala right now.”

“Do you think-”

“Quiet!” Steve orders, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Do you see that? Is that smoke?”

You lean closer. It is smoke, pouring out of a second-floor window, and it makes your stomach drop.

Steve taps into the emergency comms in Clint’s ear. “Is there a fire? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Clint’s voice replies, hushed. “I don’t know, they put us into a ballroom. I don’t know where she is.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

“What do we do?” you ask, rising to your feet.

Steve grimaces. “If… if we make contact now, she won’t have a shot. It’ll all be for nothing.”

“The Kremlin isn’t usually on fire,” you snap.

“I’m sure she can handle it,” he glares back. His voice is dangerously quiet when he speaks again. “She knows what’s on the line here.”

But five minutes later, the smoke hasn’t stopped. It’s spread. Clint and the other diplomats are being evacuated.

You keep your eyes glued to the feed, scanning for Alina Petrova’s face among the crowd. She never emerges, but neither do the Prime Minister or cabinet. Maybe there’s a hidden exit.

Just when it seems like the fire is coming under control and the chaos is cooling, the cameras cut out.

You rush for the exit immediately, Tony and Steve right on your heels. Your entire body goes numb as you climb the ladder.

It’s probably fine, you think, hands squeezing the rungs too tight. The fire burned a power line, or the government stopped the footage to protect their image. She’s fine. She’s fine.

You heave the manhole cover out of place with your shoulder, hoisting yourself onto the street and ignoring the pedestrians who stare at you.

It’s absolute pandemonium. There’s a crater where half of the Kremlin used to be, and the other half is engulfed in flames. You sprint towards it.

Steve immediately shouts after you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

Maybe there’s a hidden exit. She had to have noticed the fire, she would’ve escaped, she would’ve made it out. She would’ve.

The police that are always stationed around the Kremlin make a border around it, though no one except you is trying to go towards the burning building.

“Ostanavis’!” they yell, but you hurdle their makeshift barricade.

If she was on schedule, she would’ve been on the east side, top floor. The heat doesn’t even register in your mind.

You root through rubble as fast as you can, barely noticing when Wanda and Steve join you in your search. Smoke stings your eyes and fills your lungs until you can barely choke out a breath.

There are heaps of ash that might’ve once been people, might’ve once been Natasha.

You climb trembling supports to get to the second floor: there are bones there, even fragments of medals and jewelry. The farther you get from the crater the less charred the bodies become. But you can only get so close to the live blaze, and none of the bodies are hers. The skin on your hands begins to blister from red-hot ash and metal.

At some point Steve pulls you away, ignores the way you claw at him and scream that you won’t leave her. The three of you (Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had been wise enough to run away from flaming wreckage) end up in a Russian prison, charged as enemies of the state responsible for the fire and ensuing blast.

By the time the Department of Defense negotiates you out, you’ve convinced yourself that Natasha must’ve escaped. There’s no other option. She couldn’t die. If you didn’t find her, she couldn’t have been there. She must’ve gotten out.

But when you walk into SHIELD’s Moscow base, she isn’t there. It’s only Fury and Clint.

“Where is she?” you ask, rushing towards them. Everyone else seems to slip out of the room.

Fury’s eyes stay trained on you, swimming with something you don’t want to decipher. Your heart pounds against your chest

“Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Clint says, his voice raw.

“No,” you respond immediately. “No, she isn’t.”

He closes his eyes.

No. You see a flash of her smile, of the jacket she loved. You feel the ghost of her touch on your face.

“I thought she faked it,” Fury says after a moment. “But… we made a deal a few years ago. If one of us faked it again we’d leave something behind so the other would know. A ring.”

You’ve never heard his voice so weak before. Somehow it’s scarier than anything else.

“But there was no ring,” he clears his throat. “Just this.”

He holds out his hand, opens it. The necklace you gave Natasha last year is bunched up on his palm, dark with soot. Your knees almost give out. She never takes it off, not to sleep or train or go undercover. She would never leave it behind.

Reality dawns on you like an awful black wave. Natasha is dead.

“I’m sorry,” Fury says, resting a hand on your shoulder. You can’t feel it. Every breath, every blink is manual now, every movement an act of will.

Worst case, I’ll survive.

You just want to hug her again. Just see her face one more time, knowing it’ll be the last. Suddenly a deep red rage fills your vision, and your muscles twitch to strangle whoever set the fire, whoever planted the bomb.

“There was no body?” you ask hoarsely. You can’t tear your eyes from the necklace.

Fury shakes his head. “Ash.”

A lump forms in your throat that won’t leave for weeks. You feel like you’re looking at everything through frosted glass, frozen in the moments that you just held. It’s like you’ve been caught in a spiderweb.

You don’t cry until you set foot inside her room at the compound. Everything is just how she left it, like she just stepped out. Like she’ll come back any second now.

The covers on her bed are rumpled.

You can’t wrap your kind around the fact that she could be gone, vanished into thin air, reduced to dust. That she’ll never touch anything again. You sit down on the floor and hug your knees.

For a few days you don’t eat; you don’t speak for longer. The gaping hole in your chest churns and twists in an agonizing way. Every night you dream of refusing Steve’s plan, or going up as soon as you saw the smoke, or doing anything except sitting idly while she burned alive.

You’re at Steve’s throat often enough that Tony kicks you both out of the compound. It’s not like either of you are of use, anyways. The others manage to channel their sorrow into work. You don’t.

Clint takes time off, too. Laura manages to convince you it’ll be good.

But with nothing to distract you, you feel the pain of every passing moment. Every minute that you get older and she doesn’t. You don’t want to have to think of a life without her in it.

Weeks or months into your dull gray blur of a life, someone knocks on your door. You hope it’s not Steve. You don’t know if it’s the season, but you could spring for a box of Thin Mints.

It’s not a girl scout. It’s Natasha.

Your eyes go wide; your face pales. Nanotech mask? Clone? “A-Are you real?”

She wheezes out your name, keeps her hands clutched to her side.

“Is it really you?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears and your hands trembling as you reach out to touch her.

“I missed you,” she breathes, her eyes roaming your face.

She has a black eye and a split lip. It’s her. You drink in the green of her eyes and the red of her hair and the softness of her face and you can’t keep the sobs from escaping. She crashes into your arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ribs. She smells like sweat and home.

Natasha is crying too, shaking, her face hidden in your chest. You close your eyes and tilt your head down to rest your lips on her head.

“You’re hurt,” you say when you remember how to speak.

She pulls away and kisses you deeply. It feels like God blessing you, even if it tastes like blood. She’s real. You don’t let go of her until she gently pushes you away.

“We should go inside,” she whispers.

You’re in a daze for half an hour, while you wrap her ribs and bandage the gash on her arm. She doesn’t leave your gaze for one second. When you’re finally satisfied that she won’t drop dead, you collapse onto the couch next to her.

She climbs on top of you, pulls you close.

“They were onto me,” she murmurs into your hair. “I had to escape, I couldn’t let them think I was alive.”

Anger roars in your chest. “I’m not losing you again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill them,” you growl, wrapping your arms around her securely.

“I’ll help,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “They’re probably coming here.”

“You were followed?”

“I wanted to see you,” she sighs. “I didn’t take all the precautions.”

You laugh and bury your face into the crook of her neck. “You think we can go to the Dominican Republic after?”

“I’ll break up with you if we don’t.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu #natasha x reader #fluff

[mariacallous]

Six months into the Russian occupation of the Ukrainian city of Kherson, in September 2022, the director of Liza Batsura’s college arrived at the dormitory where Batsura lived and told the students to pack up their things: They were going to Crimea. If the students refused, they would be put in the basement, Batsura said, speaking through a translator. The director gave no further explanation.

The next evening, they were taken to a camp called “Friendship” in Crimea, which was occupied by Russia in 2014. Although she couldn’t have known it at the time, Batsura—now 16 years old—was one of almost 20,000 children the Ukrainian government estimates have been deported or forcibly displaced to Russia. Only 388 have been returned.

Initially, the prospect of a couple of weeks by the sea didn’t sound so bad. But Batsura quickly began to realize that that wouldn’t be the case. The food was terrible, the days were long, and the children were pressured to sing Russian songs, including the national anthem, which made her very uncomfortable.

Foreign Policy is unable to independently verify Batsura’s account, but her experience closely tracks with the findings of investigations by the United Nations as well as researchers at Yale School of Public Health and other human rights groups who have documented a “systematic” effort to relocate and reeducate thousands of Ukrainian children over the course of the war. She also recounted her story to Reuters as part of an extensive investigation into the deportations.

Batsura was one of five Ukrainian teenagers who visited Washington last month with representatives of Save Ukraine, a Ukraine-based nonprofit that helps to rescue Ukrainian children from Russia and the territories it occupies. They stoically recounted the stories of their abductions again and again for journalists, members of Congress, and attendees at public events.

It was the group’s first visit to Washington. Batsura felt like she was in a movie, she said.

With long limbs and round cheeks, the teenagers filed into the conference room of a Washington-based nonprofit with their minders from Save Ukraine for an interview with Foreign Policy. Once the Wi-Fi password had been secured and the bathroom located, they began to tell their stories.

They were teenagers like any other you’d see hanging out with friends at a cafe or shopping mall. Yet they were also victims of Moscow’s large-scale deportation of Ukrainian children—a potential war crime and the reason that the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued arrest warrants for Russian President Vladimir Putin and the country’s children’s rights commissioner, Maria Lvova-Belova, in March 2023.

Like Batsura, they all hail from regions of eastern Ukraine that were quickly occupied by Russian forces in the early days of the war. They recount being coerced or forced, sometimes at gunpoint, to go with Russian forces, and they were taken to schools and summer camps where they were held for several months and faced pressure to accept Russian citizenship.

In many instances, Ukraine’s most vulnerable children have borne the brunt of Russian deportation. Before the war, Ukraine had one of the highest rates of child institutionalization in Europe, with more than 100,000 children living in residential institutions. The vast majority have living parents but were placed in institutions because of poverty, difficult family circumstances, or because the child had a disability, according to Human Rights Watch.

The deportations have been carried out in plain sight. Early in the war, Putin signed a decree making it easier for Ukrainian children to be adopted and to be given Russian citizenship. Lvova-Belova herself claims to have adopted a teenager from the besieged Ukrainian city of Mariupol, and she has spoken publicly about her efforts to Russify him. In November, a BBC investigation found that a 2-year old girl who went missing from a children’s home in Kherson when she was just 10 months old had been adopted by 70-year-old member of the Russian parliament, Sergey Mironov.

Lvova-Belova has made a number of visits to institutions holding Ukrainian children, including to a college in the occupied Ukrainian city of Henichesk, where Batsura had been transferred from Crimea and placed in a culinary arts program.

The dormitory where Batsura was placed was freezing cold at night, she said, and the teenagers were forbidden to close the doors to their rooms. Russian troops patrolled the halls.

Lvova-Belova offered the children 100,000 rubles, roughly $1,000, and the opportunity to study at a college in Russia on the condition that they remain there. Batsura refused. Officials tried to find her a foster family, and she feared she would be sent to a remote region of Russia and would never be able to return to Ukraine.

For eight months while she was in Russian custody, Batsura had been unable to contact her mother, but she learned through a friend that her mother was working with Save Ukraine and applying for a passport so that she could travel to Russia and collect her.

With the border to Russia closed since the invasion, families face a daunting overland journey through wartime Ukraine, traveling into Poland, Belarus, and then Russia and—in Batsura’s case—down into occupied Ukrainian territory.

In some instances, children are turned over to their relatives without too much difficulty once the family members arrive to collect them, but the Russian authorities have also been known to present obstacles, said Olha Yerokhina, a spokesperson for Save Ukraine. The organization has helped families retrieve 240 children to date.

Officials at the school told Batsura that the journey was too arduous and that her friend was giving her false hope that her mother would ever arrive. “I didn’t believe them, and I kept telling myself that ‘No, my mom can do it, my mom will come,’” she said.

In May 2023, Batsura was rescued by her mother and now lives with her in Kyiv, where she is working with psychologists to process her experience. She is back in school and describes her hobbies as writing poems and making TikTok videos.

I asked her, given the atrocities that Putin has been accused of committing in Ukraine and during his presidency, how she felt about the fact that it was experiences like hers that had led the ICC to issue an arrest warrant for the Russian leader.

Yerokhina, who acted as our translator, interrupted to say that because she was rescued after the court order was issued, Batsura had likely missed the news about the ICC arrest warrant.

After Yerokhina explained the court’s decision, Batsura said, “It’s just.”

[k-s-morgan]

This is a belated post where I wanted to briefly address the outcomes of 2023!

While Ukraine mostly faded from the stage of world's news, unfortunately, the situation didn't get better for my people. Every day Russia kills, maims, and ruins everything it can touch. Every day civilians die from its imprecise missiles, random shootings and artillery, and outright executions. I often see that those living in other countries call this Putin's war, but it really isn't. This is the war sponsored by Putin and his regime, true, but first and foremost, this is the war of Russian people. It's hundreds of thousands of Russian people who arm themselves and go kill our defenders and our civilians. It's Russian people who fire from tanks and other deadly weapons to ruin the Ukrainians' homes, to scorch our land, to leave nothing but destruction instead of cities and villages. It's Russian people who build the missiles, load their bombers, and fly for 5+ hours to direct them at our cities, homes, factories, and even empty fields.

This is me during one of the latest massive attack that took place on January 2. At first, at night, 35+ Russian-Iranian drones bombed us. Then Russian people sent about 100 missiles at us, mainly at my city Kyiv.

Our air defense system managed to intercept the majority of them, but while it sounds like interception is an entirely positive thing, it might have terrible consequences. Because the parts of the missiles fall down randomly. They can kill any human or creature walking down the street; they can collapse on top of a residential building. There is no escape, no way to feel safe even with the best air defense systems surrounding the city. Here's one of many disastrous results of this attack.

Dead and injured people and animals. Damaged and lost apartments.

On December 29, another attack killed over 30 people in Kyiv alone. You can see their faces below. They deserve to be seen and remembered.

This is a short story of just two latest attacks that took place just within one week, just in one city. Imagine how many of them me and my people lived through during the entire year? How many more we will have to experience?

Actually, we lived through another one before I finished writing this post. It happened on January 8, and it killed even more civilians.

I know that there are good, sane, compassionate Russians. I have some relatives among them. One of them, my aunt, can't keep herself entirely silent: she's deeply religious, and a few weeks ago, in a church, she risked saying that killing Ukrainians is bad. Another man told her that she's scum and that if she dares to open her mouth again, he will report her to authorities. The headmaster of a school where my aunt teaches was imprisoned for 7 years for refusing to hold a Z-event among students. Living there must be a torture of another kind, where you are surrounded by zombies who openly promote terrorism and bless missiles sent to kill other human beings. The problem is that sane and compassionate Russians are the minority - the vast majority is happy to either kill us or they support those who kill us. Or they simply don't care, trying to claim that everything is complicated when in reality, there is nothing complicated about it at all. Russia is a terrorist state and the world allows its people and its government to keep being monsters.

Seeing the indifference and impotence of seemingly powerful countries makes me increasingly concerned and depressed. At this point, I don't think I'm simply affected by my experiences: the world is rapidly going to hell, with terrorist countries like Russia being allowed to revel in their blood-thirstiness and the other terrorist countries, like North Korea, or potential offenders like China, observing and taking notes. When a criminal sees that no one is punished for a crime, they escalate. More criminals appear. This is what I feel is going to start happening more and more, until half of the planet is plunged into death and destruction. I'll be so very glad to be wrong.

On a personal note, I lost my most beloved pet pigeon Daikiria in 2023. I love her and miss her so much that I still cry whenever I think of her. In turn, I acquired a red nightmare of a rabbit who eats everything, including my feet, and two more pigeons. Taking care of them brings me joy - I only hope that my effort will actually benefit them.

Here's a pigeon that I named Noveria the day I found her, in a video I made for my vet. Attacked by a cat, bleeding all over, with broken ribs and a missing piece of her wing, with no tail:

Here is she now. She is feeling much better, although unfortunately, she got sick because of her weakened immune system.

My kitties continue to be adorable dorks. Here's me sleeping with my cat Tom after one of the attacks - he's really scared of loud sounds, so he sleeps like a rock afterward, just like me.

My family stays strong, and I hope we will remain to be so.

Writing stories remains a huge source of relief and distraction to me, and your support, love, and care give me strength even when I feel like I'm about to run out of it.

Thank you to those who support me on Patreon and give me a chance to have a safety net shielding me from some of the horrors and insecurities - thanks to you, I can rest sometimes when I would have to work instead; I can afford some more distractions and to write more as a result. Thank you to those who leave comments, kudos, asks; thank you to my friends who never fail to message me with questions about my well-being. I love and I appreciate you tremendously, and despite all my fears and worries, I hope that we will get to see a better future still.

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #kiev #russia is a terrorist state #my fics #thank you

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Chapter 16

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 5.8k

chapter summary: it’s time to back to work after your weekend of dates with Joel. but at least he works there, too 😏

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 back to work for these two. I mention San Antonio in this one, so it’s probably obvious I’m imagining this town they’re in as somewhere in Texas, but you can ignore that if you want and imagine it wherever you’d like. also, there’s Russian poetry mentioned in this one because I speak Russian and I’m being self-indulgent, but just in case anyone wonders — I am very much against Putin’s war in Ukraine. Слава Україні!

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, more poetry (links at the bottom), cursing, food and drink mention, talking about teaching methods, kissing, grinding, groping, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, cowboy), reader straddles Joel’s lap, texting, Trevor (does he deserve his own warning?), department politics, mention of past bad relationships (reader’s ex, Joel’s ex), mention of absent mother

Chapter 16

Tuesday, October 29 Tenth week of the semester

On Tuesday, you had two whole hours blocked off on your schedule for lunch with Joel. It was miraculous, in comparison to how your schedule normally looked.

You hadn’t seen each other at all on Monday – some kind of emergency in the lab buildings kept him busy all day. And he’d come over for a drink after your date on Sunday, but he hadn’t been able to stay. You’d made out against his truck for longer than either of you had realized and by the time you made it back, it was almost time for him to head home.

(On his way out of your apartment, he’d pinned you against the back of your front door and pressed hot kisses down your neck. “Leavin’ you like this is the last thing I wanna do, honey, I’m sorry.” He’d worried a mark right under your collar bone, and you’d gasped.

“It’s alright, Joel. Tell Sarah I say hi. And Tommy, I guess.” He laughed, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. 

“Promise me I’ll see you this week?” He pressed more kisses into your neck and shoulder as he said it.

“Of course, Joel. Lunch, every day we can manage it. And coffee.” He looked up and met your smile with his own. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, gorgeous.”)

He hadn’t, of course, because of whatever had happened in the labs yesterday, but you’d be seeing him any minute for lunch in your office. He’d texted that he was on his way about 10 minutes ago, and you were up and pacing between your desk and bookshelf, totally unable to sit still.

Right on time, the knock at your door kicked your heart rate up. You called for whoever it was, hopefully Joel, to come in as you stepped closer. You grinned as you watched him come into view.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he greeted you with a half smile. He closed your door behind him, turning the lock as well. You took the opportunity to walk up and step right into his arms.

Joel’s arms came around you swiftly, and you tucked your face into his neck. “Hi there,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his neck. You felt him breathe in sharply before he gently pushed you backwards, far enough for him to see you.

“Missed you, darlin’.” 

You smiled and pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You just saw me on Sunday.”

“Hmm, that's two whole days, honey. One too many, if you ask me.” You laughed. You swayed forward to kiss him again, but kept it short and stepped back reluctantly.

“We should probably eat, huh.” You stayed close, unable to bring yourself to move too far away from him, and his hands came to rest on your hips. 

Joel nodded. “Probably,” he agreed. You both looked at each other for a moment before you took a deep breath and turned towards your desk. You’d barely shifted your weight, though, when you felt his hand close around your elbow to spin you back around. You gasped, and fell forward to lean on his chest with your palms. He moved forward to press his mouth close to your ear.

“Hold on there, troublemaker. Are you wearing my shirt?” 

You grinned where he couldn’t see you. “I dunno, am I?” You’d decided to wear a sweater today, and it was chilly enough outside for two layers. You’d smirked to yourself this morning when you’d pulled his shirt from your clean laundry, tugging it on and tucking it in where no one would see it (except maybe Joel). You realized it must be peeking out at the neckline, enough for him to notice.

Joel pressed a line of kisses down your neck until he reached the neck of his shirt. “Shit, baby,” he murmured, scraping his teeth lightly towards your collarbone. You tilted your head to the side and whined. “It’s one thing to see you wearin’ it at home, or in bed. But here? You been wearing this all day?” He pulled you forward by your hips again, leaning back on the wall by the door to take your weight. You sighed as your hips came into contact with his. 

“Joel–”

“I know, I know,” he kissed you, a short press of his lips against yours. “Just, hmm, let me kiss you for a minute.” And you did. He pulled you into another kiss, but this was nothing like the gentle kisses you’d shared since he walked in the door moments before. Your mouth opened to his and he swept you away with the heat of it. He groaned into the kiss, and you found yourself straddling his leg with his hands firm on your hips. You slid your own up to tangle in his hair.

Joel slid further down the wall and suddenly your positions clicked into place – his thigh was snug between your legs as he braced himself against the floor. One of his hands slid up to hold the back of your neck and you moaned, softly.

“Shhh,” he hushed you softly. “Can’t let anyone hear us.” You nodded and leaned back into the kiss.

You were getting carried away, and you knew it. But mostly you didn’t care – you could feel Joel pressed up against you, all along your body, and it felt so good. It felt like what you’d been wanting since he’d gone home on Sunday night. He was warm and solid, and every part of his body felt amazing against yours. His hands roamed your back and one dipped low to grab your ass, making your breath catch. You realized your hips were thrusting forwards in tiny movements, moving in a steady rhythm against his thigh. You could feel his cock getting hard in his jeans. 

You were getting awfully close to actual sex in your office when loud, familiar voices in the hall outside your office door startled you both. You leaned back from Joel with a small gasp as you heard Jilian and Trevor walk past your door. 

“... doesn’t look like she’s there right now, Trevor,” Jilian was saying, and you realized he must have come looking for you. You looked up and met Joel’s gaze, eyes wide, suddenly glad you’d had your overhead lights off all morning. He looked as wrecked as you felt, breathing hard, eyes dancing over your face. His hair was an absolute mess.

“Well she has to have office hours sometime,” Trevor grumbled. You rolled your eyes and Joel grinned. 

“She does, Trevor, and you know they’re this afternoon. Why do you need to talk to her, anyway? We have lunch with the course committee.” Their voices were starting to move away and you sighed, falling forward to rest your forehead on Joel’s chest. His hands came up to wrap around your back, holding you there. 

“Er, no reason,” Trevor sounded shifty, but you put him out of your mind as their voices finally faded. Joel cleared his throat.

“Think we got a little carried away there, darlin’.” You could hear his smile.

“Yeah,” you laughed, “should probably stop, actually eat lunch.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and agreed. “Just, ah, give me a second.” You looked down, noting his predicament. You grinned as you stepped back.

“Don’t worry, Joel, I need a minute, too.” He laughed, shaking his head as he reached down to adjust himself. You bit your lip as you watched. 

“Don’t look at me like that, honey, or we’ll end up right back against this wall.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you in an absolutely ridiculous way as he said it, and you felt your shoulders finally relax as you laughed. 

You both settled into the comfortable chairs in front of your desk, smiling.

Over lunch, Joel finally explained what had happened the day before, in the labs – apparently there had been some sort of malfunction and hundreds of crickets escaped their cages in the basement of the biology building. He and basically anyone else on campus who had been available had been chasing and catching crickets for hours.

“Never seen that many crickets in my life, never want to again,” he groaned. You laughed at his shudder. “They were everywhere. And almost impossible to catch. Eventually they brought in people with actual equipment, but for a while there we were, scoopin’ ‘em up with gardening gloves on. It was ridiculous. Tess even had some try to crawl up the leg of her pants.” You made a face. “Yeah, she screamed loud. I laughed at the time but also, shit. Can you imagine? Probably would’ve screamed the same way myself. Surprised none of ‘em went down my shirt.” 

“No thanks,” you grimaced. He smiled.

“They think they caught ‘em all, but I think they just got tired of lookin’. I bet there’s still some enjoying their freedom down there. There is a tunnel to the chemistry building, after all.” You nodded. That tunnel was old and creepy to begin with, it would be a nightmare with surprise wildlife.

You moved on from the crickets to your plans for the week, and you mentioned going out again, wondering when you might go on another date.

Joel looked down and frowned a bit. “Well, darlin’, I’m going out of town with Sarah this weekend. She has a soccer tournament down in San Antonio, we’ll be staying with family and visiting too. Meant to tell you on Sunday but I got a little, ah, distracted.” You tried to look like this news wasn’t disappointing, because obviously you weren’t going to complain about him spending time with his daughter. He eyed you knowingly and shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, honey, I’m disappointed, too. But next weekend?”

You nodded. “I’m free all weekend, Joel.” He smiled.

“Well, Sarah will be with me on campus again on Friday morning, before we drive down. She wanted me to ask if she can come hang out with you, ‘stead of me.”

“Of course!” You almost interrupted him, you were so quick to respond. “I have class at 9:30, but she can come to that too, if she likes.”

“I’m sure she’d love that, darlin’. And she’s really looking forward to talking to you about your dissertation.” 

You smiled, knowing Joel wouldn’t want to hear you talk down about it again. “I’d love that, Joel.” 

He smiled back at you and the look in his eye was so soft you almost had to look away from it. “Well, good. So I’ll bring Sarah here on Friday, then maybe I’ll call you over the weekend? Won’t have a ton of privacy, with so many people around, but I’ll make sure to find some at some point.” 

You tilted your head and contemplated him. “Privacy, huh? You have plans for that phone call, Joel Miller?” 

He grinned at you and winked. “Maybe I do, gorgeous.”

After you finished eating, you scooted your chair closer to his and rested your legs across his lap. He rested his hands on your legs, massaging them gently as you chatted about his upcoming trip, your plans for the weekend, and what was going on in your classes.

“How’s that kid doing, the one you were worried about? Nick? Was he better in class yesterday?

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Yeah, looked like he actually got some sleep this weekend. I did pull him aside after to encourage him and check in about it. He said he was trying to go to fewer parties, but his roommates were always going out.”

Joel nodded. “That’s tough, to be left out. Especially at that age. Sarah’s better about it than I expected, but she hates it, too.”

“I told him to try to talk to more people from class, form a study group. People he could meet up with in the library or somewhere else to study, so he’d have plans of his own.”

“Good advice.” Joel smiled at you.

“I’ve gathered some good suggestions over the years, from other students, too. Usually around this point in the semester I have them all share ideas with each other about how to study, or for the freshmen I have some upperclassman come in to talk about how they manage their time. Without me in the room.”

“I mean, I already knew it from seeing you in action, but you’re a great teacher, you know.” You smiled and ducked your head, but he reached over to gently nudge you back up to meet his eyes. “It’s true, darlin’.”

You realized, at that moment, that you didn’t need to worry about this being only about sex, even if you were always thinking about it. (It was hard not to – he was basically irresistible.) Joel listened so carefully to all of your stories, and he seemed to remember everything you’d ever told him, even the names of your students. He cared about you and about the details of your life. The realization made you feel warm. 

After a while, Joel squeezed both of your calves, and said, ”I have to leave in about 10 minutes, darlin’.” You nodded and started to move your legs. He resisted, looking a bit put out, but relented when he saw the smirk on your face.

You stood and stepped closer to where he sat. “Well, I think I know how we can spend 10 minutes wisely.” He grinned as you settled into the armchair with him, knees on either side of his hips. His arms quickly circled you, tugging you forward until your chest rested against his.

“I like the way you think, baby.” 

(He really did seem to like seeing you in his shirt.)

…

you (2:12 PM): just got dangerously close to sex in my office

bestie (2:14 PM): just let it happen (2:14 PM): take the win

you (2:15 PM): look I’m not going to say I wouldn’t have if Trevor hadn’t walked by in the hall

bestie (2:16 PM): WHAT

you (2:16 PM): but can I at least pretend lol

bestie (2:17 PM): what on earth was that prick doing there

you (2:18 PM): no idea. my door was closed and the light was off so he didn’t stop, but he was looking for me

bestie (2:19 PM): 🙄 (2:19 PM): how do you know

you(2:20 PM): he was with Jillian and they talked about it

bestie (2:21 PM): that guy is the worst (2:22 PM): whatever he wanted was probably extremely irritating

you (2:23 PM): always

...

Friday, November 1 Tenth week of the semester

On Friday, Joel and Sarah met you on the quad as you walked to your office. 

“Good morning, Millers,” you smiled as you greeted them. Joel leaned to press a quick kiss to your lips. After that, though, Sarah quickly stepped in front of him and claimed the spot next to you on your walk across the quad. 

“Do I really get to come to your class?” She looked visibly excited, which was more than you could say for some of your students. In fairness to them, though, 9:30 was early in college. And adulthood in general.

“Yep! Hope you’re ready to discuss some poetry.” Her eyes widened, and she looked back at Joel where he was walking behind you.

“Dad! You didn’t tell me I needed to read anything!” Joel raised his hands defensively, but you laughed and cut in before he could reply.

“Don’t worry, Sarah, they haven’t read it either. We’re reading it in class today. And I won’t make you participate if you don’t want to.” 

She looked relieved, and nodded. “Oh, cool. What’s the poem?”

You glanced back at Joel, and noticed he was smiling at the two of you. “It’s my poetry in translation class, so maybe you’re on more even footing. We’re doing Russian poetry today, by Alexander Pushkin and Anna Akhmatova.”

Sarah looked, if possible, even more excited. It was very gratifying.

“That’s so cool! I’ve never read anything like that.”

You grinned. “I’m glad you think so. I’ll let you look at it before we head over, if you’d like.”

She nodded, and you let her go in front of you up the stairs to the door of your building. You felt Joel’s hand rest on your lower back as he stepped up next to you. 

“Think I’ll leave you here, darlin’, I’ve got some things to wrap up before we head to San Antonio later.” You leaned closer to him and smiled. “Alright, Joel. I think we’ll have a good time.”

He grinned. “She’s been looking forward to this all week. And I know I’ll hear all about it on the drive, later. I’ll see you around lunch time.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, squeezing your arm at the same time, and then turned to head to his office. 

You and Sarah had about 15 minutes before you needed to head to class, and you spent it in your office telling her about the lesson plan for the day, and the class in general. 

You watched as she flipped through the copy of the syllabus you’d printed for her. “It’s mostly either upper level students taking it for their major or others taking it as an elective, who aren’t English majors. Some of them write poetry, some don’t. It’s a mix.” She nodded. “This is our only day looking at Russian poetry, so it’s new to everyone. Except I know we have a couple of Russian majors in the class, they might have read some of it.”

“Do you get to pick the poems?” She asked, studying the list. 

“Yep. I didn’t, my first year, but now I have more control over my classes. That’s pretty normal.” 

“This is really cool. Are these, like, your favorites?” 

You hummed thoughtfully. “Not all of them. I don’t always pick my favorites for a class like this, they’re not always the easiest to study, or they might not make sense for the topic. But Akhmatova is one of my favorite poets, so anything by her is high up on the list.”

“I remembered her name from your dissertation.” Sarah said it so nonchalantly, but you were surprised. 

“Oh? I didn’t think I mentioned her that much.” 

She shrugged. “It was in the appendix.”

You laughed, stunned. “You read the appendix?”

Sarah finally looked up at you, and raised one eyebrow. The expression was so Joel, it felt like your heart clenched in your chest. “I read the whole thing!” She sounded offended that you doubted her. 

“I know! Sorry. It’s just, no one ever reads the appendix. Thank you for reading the whole thing. I don’t even think my advisor did that.” She narrowed her eyes, and huffed. 

“Well, they should have.”

You were touched. You grinned at the top of her head as she bent back over your syllabus. “What was your favorite part?”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Probably when you talked about space. Like, inside poems. I never realized that was a thing. Like, that poems could have, what was it? Openness?”

“Expansiveness? Closeness?” you offered, and she nodded.

“After I read that it made sense to me. Like, we can describe feelings with words, and then when we read them we feel it, too. You said a poem could be claustrophobic, or, um, airy. I had never thought about it like that.”

You felt a bit silly for suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion, but you did. It had been a long time since anyone paid this type of attention to your dissertation. 

“I-” you cleared your throat. “Thanks. That’s what I hoped I was saying, anyway. Do you like poetry?”

Sarah shrugged again as she tucked the syllabus in her bag. “I do, but I don’t like, read a lot of it. Just what we read for school. I guess I’d probably like other stuff, but I don’t know where to start.” 

You stood and walked over to your bookshelves, running your fingers over the books until you found what you wanted. “Give this a try. It’s ok if you don’t like all of it.” You handed her an anthology of contemporary poets that you liked. “But there’s probably something in there that you’ll like. And then you can follow that thread, you know? Read more by that poet, or from that time.”

She took it and nodded. “There’s a lot of flags.” You grinned, nodding as she ran her fingers through the multi-colored flags and notes that were sticking out of the book. “Yeah, I tend to mark up books. Sorry about that. Maybe it’ll make it more interesting.”

“Dad always gets on my case about writing in books, but I have so many thoughts while I read, I can’t help it.” She rolled her eyes, and you laughed.

“Well, I’m on your side.”

“Good!” She smiled, and stood up. “Is it time to go?”

You nodded, and gestured for her to lead the way.

…

Sarah seemed to enjoy the class, if you judged it by the way she talked about it on your walk back. 

“Is the class always like that?” She was a little bit bouncy in her walk, like she had a lot of energy to let out.

“They were pretty engaged today, but yeah, we usually have good discussions. Did you like the poems?”

She nodded. “Anna Akhmatova is really cool! Do you have more of hers I could borrow?”

“Sure. A lot of her poetry is online, too, but you can borrow the translation I like best.”

“Thanks for letting me come. It was cool seeing all the different ways the same poem could be translated. I’d never thought about that before.”

You grinned at her. “Thanks for participating. It sounded like your group was having a good discussion.”

“We were! They were really nice, too. Even that guy.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Chase can be a handful. But he’s enthusiastic.” He was one of your more talkative students, you usually had to not call on him at least once per class to give everyone else a chance to talk.

Sarah nodded. “He said he was working on not always talking so much in groups.” You were glad to hear it. “Do Russian people really put jam in their tea?” 

“Yes, some do. It’s not bad, actually.” She eyed you skeptically. “Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” 

“Maybe,” she sounded like she really meant no, and you laughed. You’d reached your office at that point and you opened the door for her to go inside.

“Who’s this?” You almost groaned aloud at the voice that suddenly came from behind you, but you managed to hold it in. You gestured with your eyebrows for Sarah to go inside your office and something about the look on your face must have convinced her. She moved back a few steps, stopping by the desk. You turned in the doorway.

“Hi Trevor. This is my friend’s daughter, she’s visiting campus today while her school is off.” You almost tripped over the word friend, but talking about your love life with Trevor was actually the last thing you wanted to do. Ever.

“Oh. I didn’t know that was allowed.” He sounded like he wanted to tell you it wasn’t, but probably knew it was actually fine. And was just being a dick about it for no reason.

“What, bringing a visitor to campus?” You looked at him skeptically but tried to make your tone at least polite. “Anyway, we’re running late, so I’ll see you later, Trevor.” You weren’t actually, but he didn’t need to know that.

You stepped back and tried to close the door, but he had more to say. He always did.

“Well, maybe you should have gotten it approved.” He looked put out. You were familiar with the expression. It was the face he always made in faculty meetings when his complaints weren’t getting him anywhere. 

You sighed. “I’ll talk to Claire. See you later.” And you shut the door. You heard his footsteps as he moved away and rested your forehead against the inside of your door as you sighed.

“Who was that guy?” Sarah sounded baffled.

“That,” you said as you turned to lean against the door, “is Trevor, the British Lit Prick.” 

She stared at you and then started giggling. “Wait, really?”

You nodded. “That’s his nickname. Don’t tell your dad I told you. Actually, he doesn’t like Trevor either, so maybe it’s fine.” Her giggles intensified. “He’s like that all the time. I don’t know why he’s always bothering me about rules and stuff, especially rules that don’t actually exist. Every time I talk to him he’s complaining about something I did. He’s been like that since I started here a couple of years ago.” You shook your head and shrugged.

“Weird. Why doesn’t dad like him?”

“He’s apparently also a prick to the maintenance guys.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “that’s the worst. I hate when people are rude about that stuff. Like, ok, your dad’s a fancy doctor or whatever, but I bet he’d end up in the ER if he tried to fix his own sink. Or like, hammer anything.” 

You laughed. “Probably. Does that happen a lot?” You wondered if maybe she wouldn’t want to talk about it with you if it did. She shrugged.

“Sometimes. Most people aren’t like that. But I know my dad’s cool, even if he’s also a total dork. Don’t tell him I said he’s cool.” You promised, smiling. “I’m glad he met you. He’s been…” she trailed off and bit her lip. “He’s been happier, lately. I haven’t seen him like this before.”

You were flustered. “Oh– oh?” You took a few steps and fell into your chair behind your desk.

She grinned at you. “Yeah. Like in a movie or something. He’s always smiling. Or forgetting what he’s doing while staring out the window. Yesterday I caught him singing to himself while he folded clothes. Like, who does that?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you hid your face in your hands. 

“He was singing?” You peeked through your fingers at her.

“Oh yeah. And he’s always checking his phone. And smiling at it.” She raised her eyebrows at you.

“Well, um,” you started and shook your head as you laughed a little at yourself. “Beth, my best friend, she said something similar about me. About my phone. And Ellie,” you nodded towards the picture of her, “she’s my niece. She said I’m ‘pathetic’ about him. So, you know,” you shrugged. “It’s mutual.” You felt like your face was on fire, but you wanted Sarah to know it wasn’t one-sided. You were in deep with Joel and you wanted his daughter to like you. You liked her, both of them, a lot.

Sarah laughed. “Look, I don’t want to hear about it, but I’m glad, ok? I like you, and I just want him to be happy. Not that I think he hasn’t been happy, but. I think there are different kinds of happy. And he’s really happy right now.”

“I am, too. Did he, um,” you hesitated and flattened your hands on your desk. “Did he explain about, the other day–”

She nodded and interrupted. “Yeah, it’s ok. I mean, I was worried that maybe you didn’t like him, which would be dumb.” 

You laughed and agreed. “Yeah, it would. But I do. Like him, I mean. Just had a bad past relationship, and sometimes it still, um. Still gets to me.” She nodded like she understood, which surprised you.

“That’s what dad said. I don’t… I figure he hasn’t told you much about my mom. He doesn’t like to talk to other people about it without checking with me first.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you started to reassure her. “You don’t have to tell me about it, that’s–”

“No, it’s ok. I want to, just a little bit anyway.” Sarah took a deep breath, and you briefly wished you’d known each other longer. You wanted to give her a hug.

“She left when I was five. She’s been back a few times, but I don’t think she’s coming back anymore. It’s been a while.” She said all of this very matter-of-factly, and you felt the weight of it like a hole in your chest. She was so young. “I used to hope she would, you know? But I got older and I realized how other moms were. And I saw how unhappy dad was whenever she was around.” Sarah wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. “Most of the time I’m happy she’s not here.”

You clasped your hands together to resist the urge to pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Sarah. That’s really shitty.”

She snorted. “Yeah, it is. But, um. That’s what I mean, when I say he’s happy in a way I’ve never seen before. He never was with my mom. And he hasn’t really dated anyone else. So this is a big deal, you know?” She looked at you intently with a very serious look on her face. Like she wanted you to get how important this was. 

You did. “It’s a big deal for me, too. After my ex. I wouldn’t…” You wondered how to put it. “I wouldn’t have gone out with Joel if I wasn’t serious about it. And I’m really glad I’m getting to know you, too.”

Sarah smiled. “Me too.”

You were both quiet for a minute, and then you suggested, “Want to talk about something else?”

“Yes, oh my god,” she laughed. “I wanted to tell you that but I hate talking about it.”

You smiled at her. “Well, tell me what questions you have, about college.”

You talked about college and her upcoming soccer tournament and her high school classes for a while, until you both jumped when someone knocked on your door.

“Come in,” you called, pretty sure it was Joel on the other side. It was. 

“What a sight, my two favorite people in the same place.” He was grinning as he poked his head in the door, and you felt your face heat. Again.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You need more friends.”

“Nah, got all I need right here.” 

“I’m telling Uncle Tommy you said he wasn’t your favorite.”

“Go ahead, I’ll tell him to his face.” Joel pulled on one of her curls playfully so that it sprang upward, and she batted his hand away, laughing. “You ready to go, babygirl?”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at him. “Yeah, dad.”

“How was the class?” He glanced between the two of you, smiling. 

“It was great!” Sarah told him all about the class, and what you’d read, and the book she was going to borrow. Joel came to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk as she showed it to him. “I’m going to go to the bathroom before we leave, I’ll be right back.”

“To the left, end of the hall!” You called as she stepped out. She nodded.

Joel turned to look at you once she was gone and smiled. “Seems like she had a good time.” You stood and moved around your desk to stand in front of him. 

“Yep, she spoke up in class, too.” 

He raised his eyebrows, but rather than replying he reached out and rested his hands on your hips and tugged you closer. “I want to hear about it, darlin’, but we got about 2 minutes before she gets back and I need a kiss to tide me over before our trip.” You laughed and let him pull you in.

You didn’t quite sit on his lap, but you did rest your hands on his shoulders and let him guide you down into a quick kiss. Your heart rate picked up, like it always did when he kissed you. His hands moved to circle your waist as yours slid down his chest, with your knees resting against the chair between his legs where he sat. 

The kiss wasn’t long, but it was intense. You broke off too soon, worried Sarah would be back any second, and wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug. You tucked your face against his neck. 

Joel kissed you at the hinge of your jaw, which you’d realized was one of his favorite spots. “I’m going to miss seeing you this weekend, honey.” 

You nodded. “Me too, Joel.”

He pressed a few more kisses down your neck and then buried his face in your shoulder. You both held on tightly for a moment before he slowly moved his hands back to your hips to help you stand. “I’ll call you? Maybe tomorrow?”

You smiled, running your hand through his hair to brush it back from his face. “Whenever you want, cowboy.” He closed his eyes and smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair again. 

Footsteps in the hall signaled Sarah’s return, and you stepped back from Joel, though he kept his hand on your hip for a moment. He squeezed once before dropping it to his lap.

“Ready to go?” She asked as she stepped through the door. Joel nodded. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you. Dad’s office is always boring.” She smiled at you as you laughed. 

“Anytime, Sarah. I mean it.”

Joel stood to give you another quick hug, a much less intimate version with Sarah standing nearby. “See you later, darlin’.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Have a good trip. And good luck in the tournament, Sarah.” 

After they left, you fell back in your chair with a sigh. It was going to be a long weekend.

…

bestie (4:31 PM): I mean that sounds like a good thing to me (4:32 PM): Sarah seems to like you, and we already know you think she’s a cool kid

you (4:33 PM): yeah (4:33 PM):: it was fun to get to know her more but also nerve wracking. you know? I didn’t want to mess it up

bestie (4:34 PM): I mean that’s fair, it’s important. She’s important (4:35 PM): but you know how to talk to teenagers. Plenty of practice with Ellie lol

you (4:36 PM): is Ellie a normal teenager? 

bestie (4:37 PM): well (4:37 PM): I plead the fifth 😶 (4:38 PM): also you know I’m coming over tomorrow right (4:39 PM): taking advantage of HCG’s absence to actually hang out with my best friend 

you (4:40 PM): 🙄 (4:40 PM): we had lunch together literally yesterday

bestie (4:41 PM): that’s in the past. irrelevant at best

you (4:42 PM): Ellie will be over most of the day. I’m helping her with a class project and then we’re going to a movie

bestie (4:43 PM): sounds like my kind of day

you (4:43 PM): 👯

...

a/n: next week -- the phone call 😏

Poems mentioned in this chapter (not by name):

He loved three things in life... by Anna Akhmatova

He loved three things in life: Evensong, white peacocks And old maps of America. He hated it when children cried, He hated tea with raspberry jam And women’s hysterics. …And I was his wife.

I loved you by Alexander Pushkin

This is maybe my favorite translation (Babette Deutsch) but you can see at this link some of the many ways this poem could be translated:

I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet It burns so quietly within my soul, No longer should you feel distressed by it. Silently and hopelessly I loved you, At times too jealous and at times too shy. God grant you find another who will love you As tenderly and truthfully as I.

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#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

[enagismos]

the last time terrorist attacks like these happened in moscow the islamophobia and caucasophobia were so bad that each caucasian family in moscow, my family included, had a cop attached to their apartment checking several times a week if they're doing something "illegal". my older brother was not accepted to several schools because he's chechen (the same happened to my ex gf who's from dagestan). what happened in crocus city hall is devastating and I've been sick with grief since I saw the first footage but I can't help but think that we've seen this all before and putin is doing the same trick that he loves over and over again — orders a terrorist attack so he could "heroically" deal with the aftermath. and the aftermath is always "fighting the non-russians". they've already "identified" the shooters are from tajikistan. just wait till it turns into more severe fear-mongering against "illegals" and "muslims" and "churkas" etc etc

#правда вопрос нахуя ему это сейчас нужно. логичнее обвинить какой-нибудь рдк или КИЕВСКИЙ РЕЖИМ или че они там блять несут обычно #в ожидании блядского цирка

[scientia-rex]

It can simultaneously be true that it's complicated and also no it's not.

It's complicated to end genocidal violence in the Middle East with the United States' history of backing Israel for sociopolitical reasons that largely have nothing to do with supporting Jewish rights as well as the undeniably bad optics of the US yet again trying to be World Police while also dealing with a deeply divided internal political establishment where Biden lacks a lot of the votes he needs to get things moving quickly or at all (see: our failure to pass aid for Ukraine due to Republican holdouts, when the Ukraine issue is much less divisive among the American public than Israel) as we also grapple with global events like Putin's absolute need to subdue Ukraine for both power and oil, the threat of China using nuclear weaponry against Taiwan, and the collapse of Haiti's government likely to lead to a massive influx of refugees in states that have hostile governments.

It's also not: Biden should be over there personally telling Netanyahu he's going to make all of their worst nightmares come true if they don't stop this right now. Not next week, not next month, RIGHT NOW. Yesterday! A month ago! Those were the times to take a fucking firm stand! But right now is the next best time!

#nuance: it's both useful and can be a smokescreen to justify unjustifiable inaction

[thewebcomicsreview]

Has Sinfest just faded into obscurity now, yeah it's still posting but who the hell cares? Tat's didn't retire when he still had a mainstream enough audience for a send off now he just has the cling ons and he's posting stuff so esoteric that unless you are in those alt-right chatrooms with the 10 year old memes and conspiracies, you have no clue what you're looking at anymore. His "bad alien" arch just had the "adult aged males" walking around and it's suppose to be a threat to the USA.

That's the thing, though, it's not even esoteric anymore.

Like, sure, it looks completely fucking batshit, but then you google "British Lesbian Nana"

And see it was a British cop who has had a few scandals having another one, a local story not worth recapping. Presumably Tats hangs out on a lot of the TERF-To-Nazi-Tradwife pipeline sites, which is more of a British thing, and that's where he's picking some of these references up. And you may wonder what this has to do with Israel/Palestine, but the answer to that is that Tats has one joke seen literally two weeks ago

Or about Ukraine last year

It's all the same joke, which is trying to say that the Woke Degenerate West can't possibly beat Traditional Manly Putin Hamas and it's self-evidently absurd to consider. (Even though Ukraine still stands years later and the Israel/Hamas war is so lopsided that there are huge protests calling on Israel to start a ceasefire because that's seen as something Israel has the power to do unilaterally).

All Sinfest is nowadays is Tatsuya Ishida trying to fit the Current Thing into one of his six or seven joke templates. And, sure, he's got an audience on Twitter and probably on Mumsnet or whatever, but there's no passion here anymore, none of that Timecube je ne sais quoi. It's neonazi Garfield now.

#Sinfest #Also Military Aged Males is a right-wing dogwhistle is what that meant

[dasha-aibo]

So yesterday in Russia a bunch of terrorists opened fire in a concert hall just outside Moscow, killed a bunch of people and set fire to the building.

Couple of interesting things about this morbid affair:

Let's first center the victims. They were just innocent people who went to listen to a popular (if bad) rock band. None of them deserved this and my deepest condolences go to their loved ones.

Confirmed deaths are low right now, but because Russian rescue forces are the way they are, the rescue effort was terrible and the number of dead people is sure to rise.

This is already the single deadliest terrorist attack in Russia since the mid-00s, during the second Chechen War.

ISIS took responsibility on their official Telegram channel, but they will take responsibility for anything.

Authorities are searching specifically for people of Central Asian or North Caucasus descent and have apparently made several arrests already. But it's all a bit suspicious.

The terrorists were described as acting in a really professional manner, taking the security down first, shooting single shots or in small bursts as opposed to spray and pray. But then they just made a dash to a border with Belarus, on the same car they were seen leaving the venue in? Seems suspicious.

The US intelligence warned the embassy staff last week that a terrorist attack was being planned in Moscow. So they knew in advance something was going to happen.

Putin offered very little in terms of a response or a reaction, so the whole thing was likely a surprise to him. Even though Americans apparently also warned the Kremlin.

Just a lot of things don't add up at this point. Although things are developing and we will learn more details later.

Russia being Russia means we are already privy to a very limited amount of info.

The state is most likely to blame this on Ukraine. They will not let a good tragedy go to waste.

Overall, I have a sinking feeling this is going to turn out bad for everyone.

[bopinion]

2024 / 03

Aperçu of the Week:

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts."

(Winston Chrchill, former multi- & prime minister of Great Britain, historian and Nobel Prize winner for literature)

Bad News of the Week:

NATO is launching a maneuver in the next days. With 90,000 soldiers, "Steadfast Defender" is the largest since the end of the Cold War. What is being simulated - seriously, according to the official announcement! - is the defense "against an attack by Russia on NATO territory". Ooph... That's how far we've come now. Or again.

At the same time, the Ukrainian government is planning a massive increase in the conscription of its men. Hundred thousands additional soldiers are to go to war. With no combat experience, hardly any training and a faltering supply of equipment. This also acknowledges what observers have long assumed: that Vladimir Putin is relying on a protracted war of attrition. Unfortunately, from a strategic point of view, he is right.

In contrast to Russia's well-oiled arms industry, the West's military support for Ukraine is decreasing. The most important supplier, the USA, in particular, no longer has a budget at its disposal due to the refusal of a group of arch-conservative Republicans. A group that absurdly calls itself the "freedom caucus" - which apparently does not apply to support for a country that has been innocently attacked and is ultimately defending its freedom.

A colleague told me about his assessment that the election of Donald Jessica Trump at the end of November this year would probably have its good side too. After all, he would strike a deal with Putin on the price he would be willing to pay for an agreement and, of course ("America first"), stop all support for Ukraine at the same time. Which would then have no choice but to hand over Crimea, the Donbas and the territories in between to Russia. Phew...

Good News of the Week:

People are standing up. In sub-zero temperatures, millions of Germans are actually gathering on streets and squares to stand up against right-wing extremists and for democracy. The motto is "Never again is now!". Many are attending a demonstration for the first time, bringing children with them, having painted posters - democracy at work. I have been waiting a long time for the silent majority to finally stop being silent in the face of rising poll figures for the right-wing AfD (Alternative für Deutschland / Alternative for Germany) - currently at 22%.

The trigger was a subversive meeting of right-wing extremists who discussed strategies to deport all non-Germans, to put it simply. Uncovered by investigative journalists. I learned the word "demigration" in the process. Don't get me started on how valuable the so-called guest workers (mainly Turks) were for the German economic miracle back in the 1960s. That care for the elderly in this country would collapse without Eastern Europeans. Or that neither commercial kitchens would be able to survive without Filipinos nor IT departments without Indians. That immigration is necessary to maintain prosperity in our ageing society. And that integration fails more often due to a lack of willingness to accept immigrants than a lack of adaptability of those.

We are all human beings. A species that only exists because it has perfected the principle of cooperation. When one person goes hunting, another has to take care of the fire. Today we call that specialization. Or when was the last time you milked a cow, tilled a field, forged a shovel or prepared a medicine? Exactly. Morally, this becomes a community of solidarity in which not only does everyone do what they do best for everyone else, but the strong also stand up for the weak. You simply can't be blind in the right eye.

It is fitting that last week the Bundestag decided to amend the legislation on citizenship for immigrants. Against the votes of the conservative CDU/CSU and - surprise! - the AfD. In short: it will be easier and quicker than before. Above all because dual citizenship will be possible. It is important to know that in Germany, out of a population of 84 million, at least 12 million do not have a German passport. And are therefore not allowed to vote, for example. This door is now open. For a good 1.5 million Turks. And my wife. I have a strong suspicion that the radical right-wing AfD will not score any points with these citizens with their degenerate values.

Personal happy moment of the week:

We got rid of a monster. Eight years ago, I took over a yucca palm from a friend that was getting too big for his home. And I had a good place for it. And then only problems. The stubborn thing grew in all the wrong directions, attracted vermin and for years dripped a sticky secretion that ruined the sofas next to it, rendered a lamp useless, smeared a window and disfigured a speaker on the surround sound system. Now I've finally got round to getting rid of it. Which was difficult, because I had no room for it. It's now on the patio and dying, because it's still January in the northern hemisphere.

But I got over myself. And then for hours - there were four! - of scrubbing and cleaning to remove the incredibly dirty, sticky corner that had formed behind the sofas over the years. I managed it. And now I enjoy my first espresso in a clean living room every morning. I'm just not allowed to look out of the window to see the slow death of a living thing. Doesn't help.

I couldn't care less...

...that the train drivers' union has announced another complete rail strike. This time for a whole six days, starting last night. Workers' rights with all due respect, but if you no longer show any willingness to negotiate and the action becomes an end in itself, you are taking the population hostage. And you lose all understanding, not to mention sympathy.

It's fine with me...

...that we've had quite a mild winter this year. Because now I can take the bike to get to the station. And I don't feel guilty when my neighbors get up earlier than me to clear snow from our shared yard. And I'm happy about lower heating costs. Nice, actually. If it weren't for the human-induced climate change, what causes this mild winter. Which makes me shiver again.

As I write this...

...I listen to the first live album of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. Wow, what a joy these guys bring to the stage. The Boss really knows how to work a crowd. Nice.

Post Scriptum

Gaza is still hell on earth. Unfortunately, that's all I can say at this moment. When are the next elections in Israel again?

#thoughts #aperçu #good news #bad news #news of the week #happy moments #politics #winston churchill #maneuvers #russia #freedom caucus #ukraine #vladimir putin #manifesting #never again #afd #immigration #germany #citizenship #monster #yucca #union #climate change #bruce springsteen #e street band #gaza #hell on earth #human beings #democracy #donald trump

[contemplatingoutlander]

THIS is the cognitive test that both Trump and Biden should take!

A cognitive test to be president? Sure. Try this one.

Alexandra Petri has outdone herself in coming up with a "cognitive test" that presidential candidates should pass before they can be elected.😁 This is a gift🎁link so people can read the entire article even if they don't subscribe to The Washington Post.

Below are some "select" items from the test:

Over the past several weeks, it has been proposed that the leading candidates for president of the United States be administered cognitive tests to determine their mental acuity. This, generally, is worrying. Under the circumstances, however, it is a good idea. I suggest that each candidate answer the following: 1. What year is it? 2. What country do you live in? 3. Is that country a democracy or a dictatorship? 4. Let’s get that in writing, please. 5. Put the following words in the correct order: respecting an establishment of religion Congress shall make no law. 6. Draw a person. 7. Draw a fertilized egg. 8. Are the two different? 9. Draw a clock. 10. How many minutes from midnight is this clock? 11. Is it good or bad that it is that close to midnight? 12. Who is the president now? 13. Who won the last presidential election? 14. Should these answers be the same? [...] 16. Here is a picture of Vladimir Putin. Can you see any friends in this picture? [...] 19. Here is a picture of the Supreme Court. Circle the people on it who owe you, personally, favors, if the system is functioning as it should. 20. How many terms does the president get to serve? [...] 22. Should the president’s children get jobs in the administration? 23. What year is it again? 24. Is this a year when we have a king? 25. Make a perfect phone call. [...] 27. Where is Kate Middleton? Oh, just figured I’d ask. 28. Do you know how much money you are worth? 29. What number world war comes next? [...] 32. Does the United States have a dictator? 33. What about just for Day 1 of an administration? [If yes, ask questions 33a through 33e. If no, proceed to Question 34.] 33a. Really? Are you serious? 33b. What do you mean “stop asking questions”? 33c. Or else what? 33d. *palely* Yes, understood, would you like to proceed directly to Question 34? 33e. What can an informed citizenry facing two candidates who are both flawed but not at all equivalently dangerous do to stop this? 34. Draw another clock.

Use the gift link to read the rest of the items on this "cognitive test." You might also want to take the time to read the comments, especially the additional "items" readers think should be on the test.😂

#cognitive test #trump #biden #satire #alexandra petri #the washington post #gift link

[avelera]

"The Regime" (starring Kate Winslet and Matthias Schoenaerts) Episode 2 Review

So last week I gave my review of this first episode of this.... rather perplexing show. And this week, mostly out of morbid curiosity, I tried out episode 2 and thought I'd share my impressions of it.

Once again, let's start with the good:

Matthias Schoenaerts (aka, Booker from The Old Guard) is acting his face off in this. So is Kate Winslet.

That said, they are acting their faces off in completely different shows.

But it kinda works?

Hold on, wait a minute, let me start again, because like this show, I'm immediately completely muddled by how I feel about all this or what the fuck is going on.

Let me put it this way. I thought I was signing up for a sort of "Death of Stalin" political satire, with fictionalized object lessons that clearly applied as cautionary tales to modern political issues like Trump, or Putin, or the Royal Family or whatever, using a heaping side helping of comedy.

That's not quite what we got. And I think the people who signed up for that are going to be... at least a little disappointed. The comedy is absurdist and definitely relies on the cringiness of the big personalities involved. But for me, at least, there wasn't quite enough comedy to say this is, well, a comedy.

If you have historical familiarity with various historical regimes and dictators, you'll definitely get a "Where's Waldo" of traits and idiosyncrasies of various dictators all blended together into Kate Winslet's character as she portrays this fictionalized regime head. You'll get your standard cast of various Political Advisors all tutting over her actions and which way this fictional country should go.

But since it is fictional (it seems based heavily on Moldova as of this episode?) a lot of the political clout, to me, didn't exactly land because again, it's not based on real events so I really don't know where any of this is going or which decisions are actually good or bad in the long run.

And if the show was just going to be about that, I definitely would have quit out of it by now, pending good reviews of the finale somehow pulling everything together.

But now for the really unexpected bit.

Because if you signed up for a dark romance between an absurd, psychologically irregular, frankly bizarre would-be dictator who has the occasional moment of pathos, as played by the stunning and talented Kate Winslet, and her psychosexual relationship with her violently masculine, brooding, and supremely fucked-up self-appointed guard dog with the occasional moment of pathos, as played with dark and terrifying intensity by Matthias Schoenaerts, holy fuck do I think you're about to have the time of your life.

Like, I think the show wants to resonate with Veep audiences who are here for a cringey absurd political comedy, but I think the people who are actually going to be absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth obsessed with this show are like... your Reylo shipping Dark Fucked Up Romance people and Tumblr fandom in general who would really enjoy Villain/Sidekick or Villain/Bodyguard romances as seen when this Possibly Evil Dictator and her Possibly Evil Guard Dog/Advisor are being completely obsessed with each other, all with a rather small side of absurdist comedy as things continue to spiral and get gradually more fucked up.

Now, this is just my review as of 1.02. I have no idea if that's where this show is going because the problem I have with this episode is kinda just a slightly lesser version of the problem I had with 1.01, which could be a matter of taste, in that I really have no fucking clue what this show is going for or what it's trying to accomplish. It's not really laugh out loud funny. It hasn't really said anything political yet. We can't really tell yet what cautionary tales we're supposed to take away, if any?

But in the meantime, there's Winslet and Schoenaerts performing in completely different genres being darkly obsessed with each other and, y'know what, I might stick around just for the slow-motion-trainwreck fascination with whatever the fuck they've got going on.

#the regime #kate winslet #matthias schoenaerts

[mariacallous]

The patriarch of a right-wing Canadian family of 11 had had just about enough of gay people in his country. “We didn't feel safe for our children there in the future anymore,” father Arend Feenstra told Russian media. “There's a lot of left-wing ideology, LGBTQ, trans, just a lot of things that we don't agree with that they teach there now, and we wanted to get away from that for our children.”

Yeah, if there’s one place that’s just not safe for kids, it’s Canada. Russia would be soooo much safer. 

So Arend (and wife Anneesa) sold everything they had to move to sunny Russia and raise eight of their nine kids with “orthodox” values. They also gladly took donations on their social media platform from fellow right-wingers, all so they could live in Vladimir Putin’s wonderland. Russian officials assured them that they would work with them to get them established, and even help them get a farm. They did all of this just three weeks ago; long story short, they lived happily ever after. 

Except they didn’t. 

First, according to the family, the Russian bank where they moved the proceeds from selling their farm and belongings? It immediately froze their assets. The amount of money seemed suspicious, Arend states in a Feb. 9 video. I guess it would, since so many Russians outside of Putin’s circle are dirt poor. As a result, the family didn’t have money to live on—apparently those nice Russian officials offering to help them had disappeared.

Since no one in the family speaks Russian, they’ve also had a bear of a time trying to argue for their money—because Russia doesn’t require any bank, or any business, to hire English translators. In the meantime, they discovered that Russia is a pretty damn miserable place to be right now.

TikTok user Ukrainian.Networking translated a Russian Federation Reported Media story in a snarky post. 

The Russian reporter noted that Anneesa spoke her mind in a since-deleted video on the family’s “Countryside Acres” YouTube channel.

"I'm very disappointed in this country at this point. I'm ready to jump on a plane and get out of here. We've hit the first snag where you have to engage logic in this country and it's very, very frustrating."

Hoooo boy. They just arrived and already she’s insulted Russia. Now, I’m not saying Russia doesn’t have freedom of the press, but it’s really just freedom to praise Putin and the country he controls. Anything that resembles criticism in Russia is NOT taken as kindly as it is in our godless Western dystopias. I’m also not suggesting that Russian officials paid the family a visit to remind them of where they are, but I will point out that Arendquickly posted an apology video to the Countryside Acres channel, saying that his wife misspoke and they’d deleted the video. 

In that video, he reiterated that no, Russia is really, really great (subtext: “Please don’t push me out of a window”) and he spoke of his hope to resolve the issue with the bank. Commenters weren’t so sure, or kind. They pointed out that the bank will likely never release their funds and it is more likely that he will be recognized as a foreign agent.

At this point, I’m not sure the Countryside Acres farming gig is going to work out. Patriarch Arend should have agreed to be used as a tool for Russian state media. I mean, if you are going to be a Russian Asset, might as well go all-in. 

I’m willing to bet that living in a country that grants gay people basic civil rights might not be looking so bad now. I was wondering if the family is desperately trying to split, so I looked up how difficult it is to leave Russia. According to the BBC, you can leave “as long as you have money and have not been called up to the army.” 

Even if only for his kids’ sakes, let’s hope Arend’s only lost his money.

And I’ll end with this charming reprise of a German eurodisco tribute to Moscow, originally released in 1979. (English lyrics here)

“Welcome to Moscow!” At least the song is catchy.

Comment Award goes to Laughing Gravy: “I’ll bet back home they used to whine about immigrants who don’t know the language, who have no money, who expect the government to hand them a house and a job, and who complain when they don’t get everything they want.”

#Youtube

[cuprohastes]

So how's that going?

Putin: We will invade liberate Ukraine. Ukraine: No Everyone else: No Russia: Deploy The Worlds Biggest military Ukraine: [Apparently the guy from Ukraine's version of Saturday Night Live who is inexplicably in charge] "I don't need a lift, I need ammo." ✨Ukraine Gained a level in Bad Ass✨ ✨Ukraine took perk: Tractors can now harvest Tanks✨ Russia: We'll be done by the end of the week. Ukraine: [Sinks Russian Flagship in a land battle] [Deploys Tractors successfully] [Drones fucking everywhere] [Calls the Russian Soldier's mothers and tells them their kids have been naughty] Russia: ... how is this somehow a valid military tactic? Memo to the brave soldier of the Russian Army -- A gentle reminder to stop picking up souvenirs from Chornobyl, even if they do keep you warm at night, on account of also you will melt. Ukraine: Hello NATO, password is Swordfish, May we come in, we brought memes. NATO: Yes, what fine people you are, we especially enjoyed all the wheat and that time your president played piano with his dick on TV. Can we offer you tea, coffee, Molotovs, arm your grannies, provide you with some HIMARS to display your memes on...? Ukraine: Yes, thankyou much appreciated. Also check this out, we wired a Steam Deck to a gun. Plays Portal 2, goes BRRRRR. Russian Survivors: We were in the forest and we heard this little voice go 'ArE yOu Still TheRe' and then all my comrades did a dance and their blood fell out. 48 hours ago I was a background dancer for Little Big and now I have a Youtube Video of how to fire an AK47 and no bullets and I am being shot at by a box full of memes. Ukraine: Lol git gud skrub. Putin: OK, deploy the Nazis The Wagner Group. Is many fine people. Wagner Group: OK we need ammo, supplies, money, and support and money and for you to not look very closely at what we are doing with POWs, the people we are liberating and what we are doing with our cocks/flamethrowers/knives/guns/sharps sticks/and what this guy's necklace of human ears is made of. Ukraine: [Stares in Drone] Chap with the Nazi tattoo, five rounds rapid. LOL GET REKT Wagner Group: Damn these meddling kids. Where's our money and ammo and money and supplies (And money)? Putin: Counter offer - none of these things. Wagner Group: OK but you owe us the money, you get that right? Putin: See that Wagner Group? They can have a little bit of being shelled with artillery as a treat. Wagner Group: New plan. We are going to make Putin eat his own dick. Putin: You and what army? Wagner Group: Funny you should bring that up. ✨Wagner Group unlocked achievement: "Look at me. Look at me: We're the Army Now✨ Wagner Group: War-crimes With Ukraine is over. We are War-crimes with Russia now. [🪆]⬅️🛻🚚🛻🚛🛻🚚🚛...[🌻] Ukraine: 🍿 NATO: 🍿 The Internet: 🍿 The Orcas: 🐋🐳🍿 That uncontacted tribe:🍿

#snark #current events #ukraine #slava ukraini