#hungary in different ages

[lnlightning81]

Quiet Dates - Part Five [OB38]

Series : Younger Sister

Summary: Ollie takes you on that first date because he won the bet. Takes you to a small cafe so your anxiety doesn't get the best of you and you can enjoy it

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist Oliver Bearman Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist Younger Sister Masterlist Tag List

Previous

Standing in the hotel room, Lando was out visiting Carlos and making sure that he was okay. Normal boyfriend duties as you liked to annoy him about. Hungary was fairly warm, so you had decided on a nice outfit that would keep you cool but still allow you to be comfortable in what you were wearing at the same time. 

There was a knock on the door, so you got up from the bed and wandered over to it. Opening the door to see Ollie with a smile on his face wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. 

“Hey” You smiled, opening the door further to let him into the hotel room. Ollie was silent as he followed you back into the hotel room. You turned to look at him as you grabbed your handbag and phone 

“Hey you okay?” You asked him with a frown as you walked over to him. 

“Huh? Yeah, sorry. You just look really good” He smiled, and you blushed, glancing down to the ground before looking up at him 

“You also look very good” You smiled, taking his hand in your own. Ollie blushed as he looked down at you. 

“Thanks. I found a nice little cafe it was really empty when I went past it, and I figured that you’d quite like it” He smiled, and you nodded 

“Sounds perfect” You smiled, walking out of the hotel room with him. 

Walking to the cafe was nice and calm. Ollie made sure that he was holding your hand the whole way there to help ease your nerves as you walked, which you were so thankful for. You hadn’t known each other in person for a long time, but you had been talking over text for ages, which meant you both knew more about each other than you thought. 

You looked up at the little cafe Ollie had found. It looked like a small family fun business that had pictures of the family history dotted around the cafe. Taking you inside, Ollie found a table for you both sitting opposite each other with a smile. 

“So how's the race treating you?” Ollie asked as you looked about the cafe taking in the decor. 

“They’re good. I’m quite enjoying them. Still not so comfortable about trending on social media every time I breathe. but it’s okay. I’m getting used to it. Comes with the job. Although teenage boys and girls who find out you’re hanging out with Formula One drivers aren’t the best. They’ve been blowing my phone up” You chuckled, and he nodded

“Oh I get that. The number of people I’ve had in my text messages from before I left school this weekend is crazy” He laughed, and you nodded, looking at the menu 

“So I believe it’s my turn to pay” You hummed, and he shook his head 

“Got to beat me to it” He hummed, and you rolled your eyes 

“You know I will. You might have the reaction speed, but I’ve got older siblings” You hummed, giving your order to the waitress. Ollie did the same, ordering some tea and a slice of cake 

“Don’t tell my trainer” He joked, and you nodded 

“I don’t even know who your trainer is” You shrugged, and he laughed, holding your hand across the table 

“So I know you probably don’t want anyone to ask you this, but how are you feeling about tomorrow?” You asked, tilting your head slightly to look at him

“I’m scared. More than scared, actually. Formula One is so much different to Formula Two. It’s faster, the cars are different, a lot more g-force, more g-force in crashes. There’s so much that could go wrong” He ran a hand down his face as you gently squeezed his hand. 

“Ollie you’re going to do great. Look at how amazing you did today! I know it was probably a stupid question, and I’ve just made you even more anxious than before, but honestly, I know you’re going to do great. I know you are, and remember we’ve got a deal you need to keep” You hummed, and he smiled at you taking a drink of his tea

“Have you met Charles’ puppy yet?” Ollie asked, changing the subject 

“He’s got a puppy?” You asked now, very excited. Ollie nodded 

“Here let me show you” Ollie showed you a little picture of the puppy

“He’s a little dachshund” You smiled, looking at the picture 

“I can see. He’s very cute. Is he here?” You asked, and Ollie nodded

“Yeah. I’ll let you meet him tomorrow. He wasn’t at quali” You smiled eating a bit of your cake. 

“Want to go for a walk?” Ollie asked once you had both finished your drinks and food.

“Oh that sounds like a good idea” You smiled, getting up and walking to pay. Ollie tried to push you out the way so he could get there first and pay 

“Oh come on, Ollie. You paid for the ice creams” You whined as he paid for the drinks and food. Oliver took your hand as you walked around the park that was next to the cafe. Your energy picked up as you spotted a play park.

 Dropping Ollie’s hand, you skipped over, getting on the swings and starting to swing. Ollie laughed, following behind you in just a walk as you waved him over to come on the swings with you. 

“You have so much energy” He chuckled while getting on the swing next to you. 

“It’s a Norris thing. Actually no it’s not. It’s a Lando and Y/N thing. None of our other siblings have this much energy” You shrugged, enjoying yourself. 

“That’s probably true” He laughed as you tried to get higher than him on the swing, except he was able to get higher faster 

“Oh come on. I just want to go higher” You huffed, and he chuckled, getting off the swing and giving you a push. Your giggles make him smile even more than he already was. 

Getting off the swing, your arms instantly wrapped around him as you regained your balance. Ollie pressed a kiss to your temple before you looked up at him with a smile 

“I want to change our deal” You hummed, and he frowned, looking down at you 

“What why?” He asked, confused, trying to read your face 

“If you finish the race tomorrow, then I’ll go on another date with you. However, I don’t want our relationship to spawn out of a bet for your first ever formula one race. I want that to happen whenever we want that to happen” You explained gently, resting your chin on his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist

“What if I want that to happen tonight?” He asked 

“I think I’d like that” You smiled up at him as he leaned down a little. Your faces hovering above each other 

“Can I kiss you?” Oliver asked, and you nodded 

“I think I’d like that too” You whispered as he leaned down. 

Your lips pressed together gently as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you closer by your waist. You smiled into the kiss, relaxing in his arms as you kissed him. Pulling back after a little while. You rested your head against his chest as you looked up at him 

“Was that okay?” He asked, causing you to nod 

“It definitely was. Although you’ve stolen all my energy now” You joked, and he laughed 

“Good. It means you’ll stop texting me at two in the morning” you smiled up at him as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his body as he started walking with you again. Looking at your phone, Lando had texted to say that he was back in the hotel room now and not to wake him. 

“We both know that I’ll be tired until I get into bed and then I’ll be jumping on Lando again” Ollie laughed as you pulled a hair tie off your wrist and pulled your hair out of your face. 

“I know my dads here, and he’ll be in the garage tomorrow, but I’d really appreciate it if you would be in the Ferrari garage tomorrow. You’ve got this great way of calming me down” You smiled, looking up at him 

��You know I’ll be there if you want me there. Lando really won’t care” You hummed, and he nodded, stopping as you passed a fountain. You looked at him with a frown as he looked down at you with a smile on his face 

“Make a wish” He hummed, and you turned to the fountain and made a wish before starting to walk back to the hotel. Walking you up to the hotel room stopping outside of your room with Ollie, who smiled at you 

“Thank you for coming out with me” He smiled 

“Of course. I really enjoyed it, Ollie. Thank you” You smiled, opening the hotel door up after giving Ollie another hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Walking into the hotel room silently, assuming that Lando would be asleep by now. you let out a scream when you saw Lando sat staring at you 

“Jesus fuck Lando” You swore hand going to your chest as Lando laughed at you. There was a knock at the door 

“Y/N?” Ollie called, and you opened up the door to see a worried looking Oliver Bearman. 

“I heard you scream. Are you okay?” He asked, looking to check you for any injuries 

“Yeah. Just got a heart attack from my lovely brother. He told me he’d be sleeping, but he was sat staring at me” You explained as Lando was still laughing in the background 

“Oh good. I’m gonna go back to my room then” he smiled 

“Night Ollie” Shutting the door again, you turned back to Lando, rolling your eyes as you sat on your bed, taking your shoes off 

“How was your date?” Lando asked, raising his eyebrows as he turned in his seat 

“It was good. We went to a little cafe then walked around the park. I got a little too excited when I saw some swings” Lando laughed 

“So you admit it was a date?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes again 

“Yeah. I admit it” You grabbed your clothes walking into the bathroom as Lando cheered obviously very happy with the outcome.

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[allywthsr]

FINDING LANDO ON RAYA | (l.norris)

summary: you are bored in your hotel room and find Lando Norris on Raya, what will happen if he texts you?

wordcount: 5.7k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v

notes: seeing that video, did things to me, my first smut so please be gentle!! Comment your thoughts please also please pretend that you don’t need to be a celebrity to see others

You were in Amsterdam for a work trip, discussing business with possible new clients. The client that was scheduled on your last day, canceled the meeting the night before, because of some emergency that came up, so you being bored in your hotel room during the early afternoon, you checked Raya. You downloaded the app with your friends back in London to see who comes up and check out celebrities that had a profile there. You weren’t big on dating apps, you had Tinder but only to make fun of the jerks that were registered.

Nothing serious ever came out of the dates you had, Raya was your new hope. Maybe going on dates with celebrities would be better, maybe they wouldn’t be such idiots, in the end, you could always talk to tabloids and tell them what an asshole he was. They knew that risk and they wouldn’t just send dickpics out of the blue.

Going through the profiles you found some Instagram celebrities, but non caught your eye, you could clearly see the fuckboy in them.

You almost wanted to close the app, but saw a brown-haired boy named Lando Norris. You followed Formula One and watched as many races as you could, always keeping a close eye on the younger drivers, who just looked absolutely delicious. With Lando getting P2 in Silverstone and Hungary, you shifted your attention to him, stalking him on Instagram and finding him legs clenching sexy. You never would’ve thought you would find him on such an app. He could just scroll on his Instagram followers, chose a random person, and hit her up, she would open her legs in seconds, not that you were any different.

You clicked through his pictures, a black and white one of him looking like the dessert he is, one of him partying, and one of him with his friends and pulling a weird face. The three pictures showed his personality perfectly. Sexy, outgoing, and funny. You analyzed the profile further, looking at his profession which said, Formula One driver, age twenty four, wasn’t he twenty three? After a quick Google search, you checked that he was indeed twenty three years old. Lando Norris cheating his age, you saw what he was doing.

Visiting Amsterdam from London, just like you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second but clicked straight on the heart, hoping that maybe he liked you as well and before you could blink, a page popped up, and the words: ’You and Lando like each other!‘ flew across your screen.

You couldn’t believe it, he liked you as well. What? How?

What should you do now? Text him? Ignore it? You couldn’t ignore him. Meeting Lando was a one in a million chance. You wondered what he was like in real life, was he as funny as he appeared in all of the videos? You tapped on his chat and thought about what you wanted to say. Something sweet? Something funny? Something flirty? Or did you text him something about Formula One? You were about to exit the app and text your best friend, but then you saw a bubble appear, indicating that he was typing.

/////////////////// Meanwhile at Lando’s //////////////////////

He sat in his hotel room watching something random on Netflix when his phone made a sound, a sound that he specifically set for Raya. He removed his eyes from his MacBook and took his phone in his hand, he recognized your name from earlier. He looked for some fun on Raya, wanting a quick fuck to forget the busy weeks he had. So when he scrolled through the profiles and found yours, he was kind of drooling. You looked stunning in the pictures you put up, one of you in a park, sitting on a blanket and enjoying the sun, the next one was you, sitting on some random stairs in front of a house you found in Notting Hill and the last one was one of you sitting in front of a cake, made for your birthday. A big pink twenty two was piped on the white frosting while you smiled at the cake. You were surprised by the whole day your friends had prepared for you. Due to you moving to London for your job, you had no one at first, because of your job you got to know a lot of people and some stuck with you, surprising you for your birthday.

You looked super hot in all of your photos, choosing them with a laugh with your friends, saying how many creeps were going to slide in your dms.

So when Lando read: ’You and Y/N like each other!‘, he didn’t waste a second of not answering you. He thought you were perfect, from London and in his age range and not ugly. Lando clicked on the private chat and typed in his usual message, every time he used this, not one girl said no.

Hey there! You look absolutely gorgeous

What are you up to babygirl?

You almost let out a scream. He was a flirt, a big one. What should you do? Text your best friend and ask for help or just handle this like a pro and see what the outcome is. You decided to go for the second, if he wanted to meet up, then it was because of you and your texting and not because of your best friend that basically wrote the text for you. So you replied to him, if he was flirty, you would be too.

Hiya Handsome

Not much, chilling in my hotel room

What about you?

You wanted to keep the conversation going, so you obviously wanted to know what he was up to. If someone would have told you weeks ago, that you would be texting with Lando Norris on your Amsterdam business trip, you would have laughed at the person. You dreaded this trip, of course, it was fun traveling at the cost of the company but it was also lonely. Maybe texting Lando wasn’t that bad after all, he could be your company for the last day.

You didn’t have to wait too long for a reply from him, after seconds he had read the message and the bubble appeared again. He was not only fast at driving then.

The same

I‘m bored as hell

What are you doing tonight?

Oh god. What now? That was practically him asking you if you were free later. Of course, you were but that was not him asking for a date where he would kiss you on the cheek good night. That was him asking for a quickie and you knew it. But would you still meet him? Obviously! It’s not every day you get to meet one of your celebrity crushes.

Not much, had a client meeting but he canceled so now I‘m free

Thought about going out and seeing the city but am not sure, they said that rain is coming later

Why you asking?

You knew why he was asking, but you wanted to seem innocent. In your head you already started planning your outfit, you had a lot of serious outfits for work and barely anything nice to wear for a non formal meeting. But you were so happy you packed some lingerie, you had to because almost all of your normal non sexy underwear was in the laundry, which you forgot to put into the washing machine. Typical you.

It’s my lucky day then

The clouds are already really dark, seems like you can’t go out tonight :(

Wanna come to my hotel and maybe we could order some food? I‘m kinda craving some McDonald’s

You seem lovely

And it happened. What are you gonna do now? In the end, he was still a stranger, someone you did not know. He could be fully different from what you saw and knew of him on the internet. Oh god, what if he had some weird kinks and was going to pee on you or something? You just hoped he was normal in and out of bed. And McDonald's? Isn’t he an athlete that had to follow some strict diet? Did fastfood even fit in there? What were you going to answer to the ’you seem lovely‘? That was probably something he texted every girl, so you chose to ignore it for now.

That’s a bummer

You could be a serial killer and kill me before I get the chance of saying goodbye to my loved ones, but McDonald’s does sound nice

But does it fit into your strict diet, mister McLaren’s number one driver?

Were you actually going to meet him? You needed advice from your best friend. She knew what to do, you were sure, she always did. In the end, she was one of the humans that pressured you into downloading that app in the first place.

The serial killer existence is not giving me the kick as it used to, so don’t worry, I‘m over it

I also don’t have any more space for the corpse in my basement

McDonald’s it is then

Someone did their googling, I see

It’s the break, I can do what I want

Also, my trainer will not know about this, and what he doesn’t know, he won’t get mad over

Are you still there?

Hello?

Babygirl

Where did you go

The serial killer text was only meant as a joke, I would never do something like that, it would ruin my career

You chuckled, did he really think you were scared by the obvious sarcastic text? Cute.

If you retired from the serial killer being, then fine

I watch you drive around in circles every weekend, don’t get your hopes up, I didn’t google you

And what if I already texted your trainer and told Jon about this? ;)

Are we impatient? Am I that special that you can’t go a minute without me? Atta boy

You let out a sigh, it’s official now. You were going to meet up with Lando Norris. Then you could see how he really was and compare him to all the fan fictions you‘ve read. You really needed to sort out some outfit.

You comin‘? That’s sweet

So I got myself a fangirl? Just don’t be a Max Verstappen lover, I want you to be on my side

And if you did text him, you will get punished later ;)

You are gorgeous, just wanted to make sure that I was the only one inviting you for dinner tonight

Oh god, hallelujah. Now you kinda wanted to text Jon and see what his punishment looks like. You could feel the heat and the pulsating between your legs already and you haven’t even talked with him face to face yet. You needed to get there soon.

Sure, I always take a free meal, sent me your address? :)

Nah, I actually like George Russell but he didn’t answer me on Instagram… :(

So you‘ll do it

Now I kind of want to text him and see what that means… maybe I’ll send him a picture of you biting into a burger later

And no, no competition for you

Ah btw, what’s the dress code? I didn’t pack much fancy clothing except for my work stuff. Are we thinking sweats? Or else I’m gonna turn up in a work dress

The George Russell comment was made up, you never texted him but wanted to play a little with Lando. You didn’t know how to put the dress question in a flirty comment, you weren’t even sure if he was actually trying to get you into his bed. Maybe he was just looking for someone to accompany him for eating McDonald’s.

It’s the Hilton in Amsterdam, there‘s only one

I‘ll send you someone to pick you up, don’t worry

And that’s sad, I can’t get George to come here so quickly, guess I’ll be your only company tonight

Do it and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow

Please come in your sweats!! That’s the most comfortable for eating McDonald’s and chilling, besides, I won’t look at them when they‘re laying on the floor, so put on whatever you feel comfortable in

Yep, that was not just an ’I‘m bored’ dinner. Alright. You could feel your panties getting slightly damped when you stood up and walked to your suitcase. Fishing out dark grey sweatpants and a white crop top. You needed to shower before you went there, get cleaned up, and shave. What color of lingerie would you put on? You had no idea, maybe you should ask him since he‘s also not subtle about dropping hints about where this night would lead.

That’s nice, thank you!! What time will he be here?

Alright alright, sweats it is then, what color are we thinking for lingerie? I have some red, blue, yellow, burgundy and white

You were bold here, that wasn’t normally your case of flirting but he was just as forward as you were, so why hold back? And you really needed help choosing the color. What if he didn’t like yellow?

He‘ll be at yours at 6:30 pm if traffic is alright

Baby, I won’t make it through dinner if I know what you‘re wearing underneath

You‘re making things very hard for me already and I haven’t even touched you yet

But I love the color blue, babygirl

Put on whatever you feel comfortable in

He was the sweetest even while flirting. And him sending you a driver? Was this the princess treating your father always talked about when you were younger? But you were sure he didn’t have in mind what was coming for you after dinner if you would eat dinner before the sports session Lando had planned.

I‘ll see what I can do then

See you later handsome ;)

You hoped into the shower, washing your skin twice with the summer like smelling shower gel. Peeling your skin to make it super soft as well as shaving every hair you saw. You knew that men shouldn’t care if you had hairs on your body or not, but you felt better if you did. You were also happy, that you washed your hair yesterday evening so you did not have to worry about it now.

It was very difficult, to not touch yourself. The pressure that build up down there was almost unbearable, but you wanted to wait for Lando, it was his job now to make you feel good, you just hoped 6:30 pm would come soon.

When you got out of the shower you dried your body and tapped the screen of your phone, it was 4:48 pm. Enough time to get your makeup done and stress yourself. So before you did anything else, you applied some body cream to make your skin super silky.

Now sitting down in front of the hotel window with your travel mirror in hand, you started on your makeup. You didn’t want to overdo it and ruin this night, but you also wanted to look like something. So you did a light makeup, only applying products that weren’t heavy on your skin and looked almost natural.

The next time you took your phone in your hands to check the time it was 5:29 pm. Only an hour. You could do that. You decided to text your best friend the new details.

So you did just that, applying Parfum on your ankles, between your thighs, and even spritzed some behind your ear. You just hoped he would like your Parfum. Packing together some things you would possibly need for sleeping over. New underwear, makeup remover, your face cream, and your phone charger, you doubt he had two. You put on your sweats and the crop top over the blue lingerie, was that even the right thing? Meeting up with him just for a quickie? He won’t remember you by next week, did you really want to go through that? You would get attached to him and he is never going to text you.

The next time you tapped on your phone it was 6:24 pm, you spent the last twenty minutes wandering around in the hotel room trying to get rid of the butterflies you felt. It was exciting meeting up with someone when you knew you would have a good night, ending it with pleasure. So you gathered everything and made your way downstairs to the lobby, you waited there for a car to roll up to your hotel.

When a black Mercedes rolled up, you made your way outside and the driver got out of his car.

”Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N? I am here to pick you up on Mister Norris‘ behalf.“

”That’s me, thank you.“

You got into the car and waited for him to start driving, he wasn’t very talkative which you were thankful for, the nerves were getting the best of you, and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to talk a normal sentence without stuttering.

When you arrived at the hotel, the driver turned to you.

”I wish you both a good evening. His room is number 1283, the left elevator and then you need to press button twelve for the twelfth floor.“

”Thank you so much for picking me up!“

With that, your door got opened and you looked at the person with a disturbed look, seeing that it was only a Portier you relaxed. You weren’t used to this luxury. Thanking the guy that opened your door, you got out and went into the hotel to the left elevator, pressing floor twelve. The doors closed and you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. This was really happening. Before you knew it, the doors opened and you stood on the twelfth floor, now you only needed to find room number 1283. You followed the signs that were everywhere on the walls and a minute later you stood in front of the door.

With a thumping heart, you knocked at the door waiting for Lando to open it.

He answered with a big smile and tousled hair, he was dressed in some black sweats and a black T-shirt, looking handsome as ever.

”Hey, come in.“

”Hi, thank you.“

You stepped in and Lando opened his arms for a hug. Hugging before fucking, alright. He loosened the hug and his eyes scanned your body.

”You look absolutely gorgeous, Baby. Even better than on your pictures.“

”Thank you, but you aren’t that bad either, you look very handsome, I like your hair like this.“

”Yeah?“

You nodded.

What now? The sexual tension was already unbearable, you wouldn’t survive dinner. You both were practically eye fucking the other.

”Let’s sit down first?“

”Sure!“

With that you went to the cream-colored couch, sitting on it and having the perfect view over Amsterdam.

”But if you are a serial killer, do tell me. At least I want to say goodbye to my family.“

You had no idea what you were saying, you wanted to lighten up the situation but what should you do?

”Nah don’t worry, not anymore. And you‘re here for work? I read you’re from London?“

”Yes, had some meetings with clients. I moved there for my work, I love it there. And what about you? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in some exotic place for holiday?“

”Kinda, I visited Tomorrowland yesterday to see my friend Martin Garrix and tomorrow I have tire testing for Pirelli, so no holiday for me just yet.“

”Ah that’s fun, what are you doing for the holiday?“

”I rented a yacht for my friends and family, you should come!“

”Oh, yeah“, you blushed, ”let’s see if I still want to see you after tonight, maybe you have a small dick.“ you smirked. You wanted to get to the point of why you were here. The wet panty proofing it to you, dinner could wait, the wetness between your legs not.

He looked at you with an open mouth.

”Me and a small dick? Baby, you have no idea what’s coming.“

With that, he put his hand on your thigh dangerously close to your core. You let out a shaky breath.

”The thing is, I joked about not making it until dinner, but I really don’t think I can resist you that long, knowing you’re probably wearing sexy lingerie under your sweats and crop top.“

You could see his eyes getting a shade darker than they were when you first saw him.

”Why don’t you find out for yourself?“, you wanted to sound sexy and just prayed to whatever lord, that it did.

And before you could think about it for another second, he took you and placed you in his lap, putting his hands on your waist. His lips looked absolutely delicious, you wanted to taste them, feel them on yours. As if Lando could hear your thoughts, he pressed his lips on yours, moving them, and slipped his tongue into your mouth searching for yours. You let out a quiet moan and nudged his tongue with yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, slightly pulling on the strands, hoping that that was something he was into.

Your lips creating the loudest sounds, every time they smacked together, taking deep breaths in between. Lando left your mouth and his kisses wandered slowly down your neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind (not only on your neck) and he slightly bit the skin of the side. Without you realizing it, you moved your hips against his, dryhumping him. Lando’s hands wandered under your crop top and slowly pulled the material up, to remove it, you held your arms up to make it easier for him. When the dark blue lace appeared, he let out a breath.

”Fuck babe, you’re killing me. Even better than I imagined.“

You could just hum because he immediately attached his lips to your chest, sucking on the skin that was now freed. That felt so fucking good. Your hands went back into his hair, attaching themselves to the brown curls.

”Le-Let me“, you pressed out, wanting to explore his neck as well. That was one thing you always found sexy, his thick neck, you wanted to touch and kiss it and now you finally could.

He let go of your chest and looked at you with big eyes, you pressed a kiss on his lips and did the same then he did minutes prior. Wandering down his neck and slightly sucking, you didn’t want to leave a hickey but some sucking never hurt anyone. Satisfied with what you did, you let go of his skin and licked over the said area, feeling him shivering under you. You could also feel something hard under you, and if you were correct you wouldn’t be disappointed. It felt the right way, thick and long enough but not too long.

With a quick heartbeat, you left his lap and slowly made your way in front of him, you wanted to see for yourself if you were correct. So you sank to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes, he groaned and his head fell backwards.

”Fuck babygirl, you make it so hard for me, I could just burst right now.“

”I make things hard for you? Oh Lando, trust me, I know.“

With that, your hand slipped across his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes focused on you again, he could almost see how hungry you looked at his dick as if it would be your last meal.

”I want this off.“

You tucked at his sweats, impatient to finally get to his member you haven’t met yet.

”Impatient are we?“, Lando acted all cocky now, but you both knew, that when you touched his dick with your delicate hands, he would turn into a puddle. With that, he lifted his hips and you were able to pull the sweats down, seeing him wearing no underwear.

”No underwear?“, you asked with crooked eyebrows.

”Figured I didn’t need them since you were going to remove them anyway.“

When his sweats was finally pulled lower to where his dick was, his member sprung towards you, he wasn’t fully hard yet but you could work with that. You gave his sweats the last pull and they were pooling at his feet, you immediately got to work. Not wasting a second of not touching him, you grabbed his member, which laid heavy in your head, and let a thread of saliva fall onto his head, moving your hand up and down, spread the fluid evenly, feeling him hardening with every stroke you gave him.

”You‘re killing me. That feels so fucking nice.“

The praise made you smile. At least he felt satisfied, that was already good.

”Put it in your mouth babygirl.“

So you did just that, you opened your mouth and gave it a long lick, from the bottom, to the tip. Your lips closed around his head, circling it with your tongue. Looking up, he had an open mouth and his eyes looked satisfied, you wanted to do more, slowly taking his member down your throat. Lando let out a moan and reached into your hair with his hand, making a messy ponytail to hold on to.

When you reached your limit, you grabbed the rest of his dick with your hands, following the movements you did with your mouth.

”Fuck baby, that’s enough, or else I‘m going to cum down your throat, I want to taste you first.“

With an unsatisfied hum, you let go of his dick and pouted.

”Let me take you to the bed.“

You nodded and he pulled you back onto his lap, standing up as if you weight nothing and walking with you into the bedroom. The bedroom was nicely decorated and from the window, you could see a beautiful sunset, but that wasn’t something you wanted to pay attention to. He sat you down on the soft bed and you shifted to the end of his bed, laying your head on his pillow. You inhaled the scent that came across your nostrils, fully smelling Lando. If you wouldn’t be up to different things right now, you would turn around and never stop sniffing his pillow. Was that creepy? Probably.

”You need to tell me, when I need to stop, yeah?“

You nodded, not being able to say anything, excited for what was about to happen. He laid on his chest between your legs, tugging your own sweats down. With a groan he let his head fall onto your thigh, seeing your lace panty made him weak in the knee, thank god he was laying down.

”Did you put Parfum on your legs? God baby, you‘re so fucking sexy.“

”You like it?“

”Are you kidding? Fuck yes.“

He placed kisses on your thighs, and with each kiss, he got closer to where you needed him the most.

”I can smell you from here baby.“

You propped up your legs and he removed your panty with a swift move. Seeing your glistening core, he almost drooled.

”You‘re so fucking wet and I didn’t even touch you properly yet.“

”Ever since you texted me, I was almost not able to resist touching myself.“

”Fuck Baby.“

Before you could respond he licked with his flat tongue over your pussy, collecting most of the wetness that left your core already.

”You taste so sweet, Angel.“

With a groan you placed your hands in his hair, pulling on the strands again.

He flicked your bud of nerves several times then went back to toy with your entrance. A moan escaped your mouth when he inserted his tongue inside of you and with his nose he nudged your clit.

”Lan-“

”Go on, cum for me Y/N.“

Without a warning he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you and focused on your clit with his tongue, moving everything in a rhythm together.

”Fuck Lando, I‘m gonn-“, and before you could finish that sentence, your back arched and the pleasure washed over you, leaving a pulsating feeling in your core. With one last lick, Lando got up and positioned himself over you, his face glistening with your juices.

When he pressed a kiss on your lips you could taste yourself and let out a groan.

”Your skin is so fucking soft Y/N“, Lando said while he caressed your sides.

”Are you ready to take me?“

You just nodded, not being able to say a word. He already made you feel so good and he wasn’t even in you yet, you needed him, you needed him bad.

”I need you, Lan.“

”Good girl. Do you have a condom?“

”No but I‘m on birth control, you don’t have to use one, as long as you’re clean.“

”I sure am.“

His dick twitched at the thought of feeling you without a rubber, the skin on skin contact making him feral.

Taking his cock in his hand, and moved his tip through your folds, wetting his member. He looked you in the eye, silently asking you if you were ready. You nodded your head and pulled his head to yours to press a kiss on his lips, which he returned, sucking your lower lip into his mouth before pulling back and focusing on the cock in his hand. Slowly pushing his tip to your entrance, you closed your legs around his back and nudged him to push more into you. He slowly slid fully in you, as you gasped at the new sensation and felt full. He filled you up perfectly, it was like you were made for each other, stretching you in all the right places. He stood still and waited for your nod of approval to move. You clenched around his cock.

”Fuck Y/N, do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.“

You giggled and nodded your head, indicating him that he could move. He pulled his dick out and forcefully pushed him back in. You both moaned at the sensation.

”I hope you know how good you feel, it’s amazing.“

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at this compliment. You loved this dirty talk he did, complimenting you. He took his hand and started to play with your clit while still pounding in you. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, the new stimulation giving you the perfect pleasure.

”Fuck Lando, you’re making me feel so full.“

He grunted at that statement. Speeding up with his movements, as well as rubbing and flicking your clit. Your moans getting higher with every thrust.

You could feel your release getting closer.

”Lando, I‘m gonna cu-”

”Baby cum for me.“

With that you felt your inside snap and the orgasm taking over your body, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and your legs started shaking. While you were on your high, Lando went and left kisses on your neck, slightly sucking, leaving faint purple bruises behind.

When you came back down you focused on Lando, clenching around him, trying to get him to cum as well. Sinking your nails into his shoulders and leaving little crescent moons on his skin, they would probably still be seen tomorrow. He groaned and his head fell down on your shoulder, panting. You could feel him painting your insides white, you moaned at the feeling.

”Fuck darling, you feel so good.“

He did some last thrusts to ride out his orgasm and then almost let all of his weight fall down on you. Your hands immediately went into his hair, stroking it while he still had his now softened dick inside of you. He lifted his head and pressed his lips on yours, moving them and creating smacking sounds.

Slowly pulling out, you could feel his and your mixed cum dribbling out of you, enjoying this sensation, Lando sat up and swiped his thumb over your labia, liking how it looked. He wiped his cum covered thumb on the white bed sheet.

”I‘d love to stay here with you, but I need to pee. It’s not very romantic but I don’t even wanna know what happens if I don’t.“

You sat up and Lando replied with a: ”Yes, please go, it’s important. I don’t want you getting a bladder infection after having mind blowing sex.“

You scoffed and got up, ”Mind blowing?“

”What is that supposed to mean?“

You turned around looking into his face, you both were smiling brightly, still having that post sex glow, but also because you joked about the sex you just had. It was fantastic. You started walking towards the en-suite bathroom.

”You were good Lando, but mind blowing? I don’t know.“

”My cum dribbling down your thigh is saying something else.“

You blushed and looked down at your thigh, seeing the white drips rolling from your core. You didn’t know what to say to that and went to the toilet to do your thing. Returning just shortly after, you sat in the bed next to him.

”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“

Part two

[wejustvibing]

The Numbers Behind Lewis’ Silverstone Win

- Lewis’ ninth win at the British Grand Prix sets a new record for most F1 wins at a single Grand Prix. He had previously held this record with Michael Schumacher at the French Grand Prix, and himself at the Hungarian Grand Prix!

- Lewis also breaks the record for most wins at a single circuit (nine), at Silverstone.

- It is the 15th time Lewis has stood on the podium at Silverstone, extending the record for most podiums at a single F1 circuit.

- Lewis extends his consecutive podium streak at Silverstone to 12. He has finished every F1 race at Silverstone in the Hybrid era (since 2014) on the podium. That includes 11 British Grands Prix and the 70th Anniversary Grand Prix in 2020.

- This is the 104th Formula One victory of Lewis’ career, and his first since the 2021 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix - 945 days previously.

- At 39 years and 182 days old, Lewis becomes the oldest winner in F1’s modern era, and the oldest since Nigel Mansell triumphed at the 1994 Australian Grand Prix aged 41 years and 97 days.

- Lewis becomes the first driver to win a Formula One race after competing in more than 300 Grands Prix. He achieves this at the 344th attempt.

- The time difference between Lewis’ first F1 win and his latest is also an F1 record. 17 years and 1 month has passed since the 2007 Canadian Grand Prix, Lewis’ first win.

- Lewis also becomes the first driver in Formula One history to win at least one race in 16 different seasons (2007-2021 & 2024). This sets a new record and breaks the tie with Michael Schumacher.

- The podium is Lewis’ 199th in F1, extending his record for most podiums in the sport’s history.

- It is the 299th time Lewis has finished in the points at an F1 Grand Prix. He could become the first driver to score 300 Grands Prix points finishes next time out in Hungary.

- Lewis’ podium is his 150th with Mercedes in F1. That extends the record he already held for most podiums scored with the same team.

- Win number 83 for Lewis with Mercedes also extends the record held for most wins with the same team in F1.

[girlactionfigure]

Worn and weary, balding, with sad eyes, Raoul Wallenberg looked much older than his 31 years of age when in 1944 he was assigned the responsibility of saving Jews in Hungary. The assignment came by way of the War Refugee Board, an American organization formed that same year with the goal of saving Jews from persecution by the Nazis.

Raoul, who had some Jewish lineage but was not considered Jewish, was born in Sweden to a prominent family of bankers, diplomats, and politicians. He was expected to follow in the footsteps of his family, but he decided to become an architect.

He went to study architecture in America, at the University of Michigan. During his time in college, Raoul worked odd jobs despite his family’s wealth, and hitchhiked across the US, Canada, and Mexico during holidays. He continued hitchhiking even after getting robbed and thrown into a ditch by four men who offered him a lift. In a letter to his grandfather, Raoul wrote of his love of hitchhiking, “When you travel like a hobo, everything’s different. You have to be on the alert the whole time. You’re in close contact with new people every day. Hitchhiking gives you training in diplomacy and tact.”

Raoul finished the University of Michigan with honors, even winning a medal for his scholastic achievements. Unable to find architecture work in Sweden after graduation, Raoul briefly lived in South Africa, soon moving to Palestine for a banking apprenticeship. It was in Palestine that Raoul first encountered Jewish refugees from Germany. The refugees made a strong impact on Raoul.

Upon returning to Sweden, Raoul went into the import/export business with a man of Hungarian Jewish decent. Once it became harder for his partner to travel to Hungary due to his being Jewish, Raoul started making the trips himself. He traveled frequently to Budapest, learned Hungarian in addition to his already knowing French, English, German, and Russian, and ultimately went on to head the international arm of the business, soon becoming a joint owner of the company.

In 1944 Germany occupied Hungary. At the time of the occupation, Hungary had close to 700,000 Jewish citizens. By the time Raoul arrived in Hungary on his mission of rescue, over 400,000 of them had been sent to Auschwitz.

Raoul wasted no time. He did everything he could think of to save Jewish people. He bribed, extorted, bluffed, and threatened to achieve his aims of saving as many people as possible.

With a fellow Swedish diplomat he created official looking protective passes to give out to Jews granting them Swedish citizenship and making them exempt from wearing the yellow badge that Nazis required them to wear. Sandor Ardai, one of Raoul’s drivers, recalled a time when Raoul came upon a train full of Jews about to depart to Auschwitz,

“He climbed up on the roof of the train and began handing in protective passes through the doors which were not yet sealed. He ignored orders from the Germans for him to get down, then the Arrow Cross [the Hungarian Nazi party] men began shooting and shouting at him to go away. He ignored them and calmly continued handing out passports to the hands that were reaching out for them. I believe the Arrow Cross men deliberately aimed over his head, as not one shot hit him, which would have been impossible otherwise. I think this is what they did because they were so impressed by his courage. After Wallenberg had handed over the last of the passports he ordered all those who had one to leave the train and walk to the caravan of cars parked nearby, all marked in Swedish colours. I don’t remember exactly how many, but he saved dozens off that train, and the Germans and Arrow Cross were so dumbfounded they let him get away with it!”

In total Raoul gave out tens of thousands of such protective passes, but the German government eventually caught on to the ruse and ruled the passes invalid. When Raoul heard of this, he called on Baroness Elisabeth Kemeny, the wife of the Hungarian Minister for Foreign Affairs in Budapest, for help,

‘’Raoul implored me to help. He was desperate. I talked to my husband and said he must do something. He told me ‘I can’t fight the whole cabinet.’ But after midnight word came that 9,000 passes would be honored. I can still remember Raoul’s elation, his happiness.’’ The baroness had finally persuaded her husband to help by threatening to leave him if he didn’t.

When the Germans abandoned the use of trains to transport Jewish prisoners, instead forming 125 mile death marches toward Auschwitz, Raoul began visiting stopping areas to save people.

“‘You there!’ The Swede pointed to an astonished man, waiting for his turn to be handed over to the executioner. ‘Give me your Swedish passport and get in that line,’ he barked. ‘And you, get behind him. I know I issued you a passport.’ Wallenberg continued, moving fast, talking loud, hoping the authority in his voice would somewhat rub off on these defeated people…The Jews finally caught on. They started groping in pockets for bits of identification. A driver’s license or birth certificate seemed to do the trick. The Swede was grabbing them so fast; the Nazis, who couldn’t read Hungarian anyway, didn’t seem to be checking. Faster, Wallenberg’s eyes urged them, faster, before the game is up. In minutes he had several hundred people in his convoy. International Red Cross trucks, there at Wallenberg’s behest, arrived and the Jews clambered on…”

In one of his final acts of rescue, Raoul intimidated the supreme commander of German forces in Hungary, Major-General Gerhard Schmidthuber, into not blowing up a Jewish ghetto housing 70,000 people. As the war was coming to an end and there was not enough time to send the remaining Jews to Auschwitz, Adolf Eichmann, a major organizer of the Holocaust, ordered the slaughter of all Hungarian Jews in one mass execution. When Raoul found out about this, he sent word to Schmidthuber that if he were to go through with the slaughter, Raoul would personally see that he was hanged for crimes against humanity after the war. Knowing that Hitler was close to defeat, Schmidthuber acquiesced and called off the massacre.

Raoul took such risks because his perspective on the work he was doing was simple, “I will never be able to go back to Sweden without knowing inside myself that I’d done all a man could do to save as many Jews as possible.”

In total Raoul saved close to 100,000 Jews. He himself was captured by the Soviets on suspicion of being a spy and is presumed to have died a Soviet prisoner.

Historical Snapshots

[froot-batty]

post this bird when they least expect it

(LORE BE DOWN THERE)

Oswald Cobblepot was born to a poor family in a small Hungarian village, the eldest child of what would come to be six children. From the moment he could function by himself, he was expected to take up responsibilities around the house - taking care of his siblings, earning a little extra money when he could. Not because his parents were neglectful, but because they were trying to scrape together what little money they earned from multiple jobs. Oz had to help out somehow, because there was no one else to do it.

Oz was 12 when they left Hungary. His father had gotten desperate and had turned to working for some bad people in order to provide for his family. When continuing down that path grew too dangerous, they fled to Britain, where their life was only a tiny bit better. They were still poor, but by now Oz was able to get a couple of real jobs (through lying about his age) to help properly support the family. However, by his early teen years the symptoms of his IED had begun to develop and show, and his frequent outbursts oftentimes got him sacked or even, on a couple of occasions, jailed for short periods of time.

Though he tried his best to keep his head inside of his home, it was something he couldn't control. He would always feel awful about being cruel to his family after the fact, but he had never been the type to apologize with words, so he decided that to pay them back, he needed to provide even more for them.

This is when Oswald began to dip into criminality. He couldn't keep a proper job, but peddling drugs or breaking bones worked just as well (and even paid better, in most cases). His outbursts even helped him, giving him a reputation amongst low-level criminals that eventually grew into recognition from bigger ones.

These more powerful criminals could see that under the anger and the violence, Oswald was actually incredibly cunning when he was allowed to be. He could come up with schemes that, while risky, did prove to pay out in the majority of cases. Eventually, one of Oswald's more frequent employers and a major crime boss decided to take him in, impressed by how naturally he'd taken to the criminal life.

It was through the experience within that crime family where Oswald really honed his skills. He learned how to be intimidating and send a message without doing more than lifting a finger. He was never able to tame his reactions to the slightest provocations, but he learned how to be less impulsive. Throw his tantrums in the moment, but properly plan after he'd calmed down.

With the trust and wisdom gained from this family, Oswald grew...cocky. He felt untouchable; like he could master the game he'd only recently been taught. The money was coming in, he was respected, feared...and it made him feel on top of the world.

This was when he made a plan. A plan that would get him and his family all the money they needed to leave the country and start somewhere new, somewhere where Oswald could create his own criminal empire and shower them all in all the riches they could ever imagine.

He went behind his employer's back and started to feed information to the other crime families. Things that would not only distract his boss, and leave him and his property vulnerable, but endear him to the other families. Slowly, through a lot of verbal manipulation and betrayal, Oswald stole....a ton of money, from a lot of different people. It only made him more and more confident.

Still, despite all he'd done to get where he was, he hadn't really understood that people in this business do whatever it takes to get ahead. Someone snitched on him to his boss, and he was very quickly dragged right back to where he'd started. Oz was briefly tortured for his disloyalty (where he got his blind eye), and then dragged to a scrap yard, where he was put into an old car under a car crusher.

Luckily, the scrap yard they took him to used a very outdated, very slow machine, so Oz was able to figure out a way to escape undetected. It did, however, leave him with a permanently mangled leg, which he didn't have the means to treat at the time. Instead, he used the remaining time to put his escape plan into action. He collected the money he'd squirreled away and took his forged documents onto a boat headed to America, never saying a word to the family he'd leave behind. As long as the world thinks the person he used to be is dead, they're safe, so he's accepted he can never speak to them again.

Gotham City, the world capital of crime, was the perfect place to build his own criminal empire. He doesn't regret anything that lead to where he is now, but sometimes he does miss what he used to have, though he'll kill you before he admits it. But the way he treats the younger members of the rogues gallery - like wayward younger siblings to reluctantly corral - proves that there's a heart somewhere under all of that ice.

[duchessofostergotlands]

Leonor is putting an impressive number of engagements before getting in the navy. In a way I wish more European royals would feel the pressure the Spanish do, because it’s embarrassing to see a teenager work more than actual monarchs and constistently giving more relevant speeches than middle aged people. It’s actually good for these privileged people to know their position is not set in stone.

I was going to go into depth about why you shouldn't compare families etc but let's just fact check this first. The only family that has an official, public record of engagements is the Brits (one of the many many reasons you don't compare wildly different situations) so the best you can do with other royal families is use their website. As far as I can tell from Casa Real Leonor has done 9 engagements this year. You state that she's doing "more than actual monarchs" and I'd love to know which monarchs have done less than 9 engagements since January because I can't think of any. Harald did more than that in June alone and he's 87 and just had a pacemaker implanted lol.

I also find the statement that she is "constistently giving more relevant speeches than middle aged people" to be odd. Relevant means appropriate. We're not the intended audience for the vast majority of speeches so unless unless it's egregious - like talking exclusively about Botswana during a visit to Hungary - how can we judge what's more or less relevant? We can say if we liked the speeches or not, sure. You could say if it's relevant to you and your life (for example I don't enjoy military related speeches because I'm not a fan of the military so it isn't relevant to me personally). But I'm not a German politician or a business person from Japan, how would I know what's relevant to them if they're the kind of intended audience, which they generally are for older royals compared to the young royals whose speeches tend to be aimed at the general public through events like National Days or birthdays? What exact passages in Leonor's speeches make them more relevant than those given by older people?

None of this is in any way a criticism of Leonor. I'm not Spanish but as an outsider she seems like a kind, intelligent, confident, mature young woman and a credit to her parents. Again, as an outsider, I'd say she's doing an excellent job. But it's totally unfair to use her to put down people in vastly different circumstances using inaccurate information and criticisms neither you nor I are actually qualified to make. The next generation are coming into their own and we have the chance to make sure they become leaders who are recognised for their own strengths and criticised for their own failings.

Of course royals need to know that their position is determined by us, the people. But if I've learned anything from our WW2 and abdication episodes of the podcast it's that the most successful royals are those who are motivated by a recognition that their job is an honour and they have a responsibility to the public, not those who are scared of losing their ponies.

[greenerteacups]

Hi, hi! I never shut up in my fic comments, so I’m going to practice restraint here and quietly scream that I find everything about Lionheart delightful. It’s such a smart, witty, honest, beautiful, and deeply romantic story that honors a character arc for Draco that scratches so many itches in my brain. Every time I read it, I feel spoiled. 

I have SO MANY questions and general exclamations, but I’ll stick to one. I always love reading your thoughts, but there is zero, null, zip pressure to respond in any way. Just think of this ask as an energetic virtual wave. 

So, if your Narcissa and Molly were forced to name each other’s biggest flaw, what would they say? (I ask this knowing that what whatever they said wouldn’t necessarily be true, of course.) I’m endlessly fascinated by their parenting, but also the lives they lead beyond it. Molly and the Order. Narcissa and the pureblood circles she’s navigated her whole life. They both so obviously love their children, but I can’t ever decide if Molly’s dislike for Narcissa (I mean, I’m assuming she dislikes her) would include a stiffly admitted “you’ve raised a good son,” or if she’d say “Draco became good in spite of you.” 

<3 Tig

TIG!! Hello! I read your comments religiously, and by that I mean with the totemic reverence properly afforded to King St. Stephen of Hungary's right forearm. I hoard them in my inbox like Smaug's jewels and kick my feet like a schoolgirl over them. Or like a very schoolgirlish mixed metaphor of a dragon, that is. The longer, the more dragonly schoolgirling. To wit, I have been grinning at this stupidly for like, five whole minutes.

What would Narcissa and Molly say about each other? I wonder, I wonder. They're quite alike in being protective and (in their way) nurturing mothers. They both take pains to keep their children out of the war effort, albeit somewhat unsuccessfully. They're also very prideful, domineering, and intent on getting their own way. I think Draco acclimates to Molly's parenting style when he's around the Weasleys in part because it's so similar to his own home: you have a present and visibly dominant mother figure, who gives most of the orders, and then an auxiliary (or, in Lucius's case, absent) father figure whose name is usually invoked only to give force to the mother's commands. They also had children around the same time, though Molly was a mother years before Narcissa was, and so probably thinks of Narcissa as quite young. I expect there would be an element of mutual condescension, if not outright scorn. Both of them believe very strongly that their ideas are The Right Things, and if you disagree with them, it doesn't matter what your reasons are, you are simply Wrong. They have equally inflexible moral compasses that happen to be oriented around radically different poles.

They are also both — and I don't think it's a spoiler to say this, because everything I'm about to say is stated in the text — extremely competent fighters. Narcissa never fought in the first Wizarding War, but she's still an accomplished duelist, and formidable enough to have the respect of both Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore. She's an expert Occlumens, practiced Legilimens, and her husband was the Dark Lord's right hand. Molly Weasley, on the other hand, is one of the only people alive to have beaten Alastor Moody in a duel, and one of the few people in the Order who seems to feel comfortable giving shit back to him at Grimmauld Place. It's worth noting, too, that Molly is fairly bellicose as a person — she has a snap-your-fingers temper — and among her seven children, you have (canonically speaking):

a curse-breaker (one of the hardest/most demanding intellectual jobs in the wizarding world),

a dragon-tamer (holy fuck),

a Head Boy with more N.E.W.T.s than Hermione canonically has, who got a high-ranking aide position in Wizard Parliament straight out of high school,

two crackpot inventors who start a business selling bioweapons at age 17,

a chess prodigy who beats a 50-something master at age 11; hijacks a flying manual car, teaches himself to drive it, flies the fucking thing from Devon to Surrey, and kidnaps his best friend; subsequently flies it again from LONDON to HIGHLAND SCOTLAND; uses said car to bulldoze a horde of giant spiders; threatens a serial killer to his face, while nursing a broken leg; breaks into the wizarding version of MI6; blows it up; ensuingly helps prosecute a war effort to prevent a fascist takeover of Britain; and:

Ginny Weasley.

And on the other hand, you have Narcissa (in Lionheart), whose children, though few in number, consist of:

Draco Malfoy (prodigious, annoying, thus far remarkably hard to kill).

So regardless of your stance on the nature/nurture debate, you have to believe there's some fairly intense parenting happening on either side of the equation.

In my fic, they also both hold similar roles in the present: involved in the war effort, but not in the same way some of their colleagues are, either by choice (Molly being the de facto quartermaster for the Order safehouse, and hence the Order) or by necessity (Narcissa being unable to come out publicly on either side of the conflict without putting herself, and Draco, in danger). Those positions of "neutrality," which for both of them is really just a cover for their work as covert operatives, is made possible by the fact that they are mothers. No one would suspect the impoverished housewife Molly Weasley of running a guerrilla military out of her kitchen; likewise, few would suspect reclusive, tragic pureblood widow Narcissa Malfoy of being the pet huntress of Albus Dumbledore. Which is part of what makes them so effective. There's also something in the fact that they're both very feminine, both in their position and how they hold themselves, but they embody different aspects of femininity — specifically, the elements of femininity that are useful to their cover. Molly leans heavily into her role as the blustering, bossy, overworked mother, to the point that most of her children don't see her as anything else. Narcissa, on the other hand, leans into the "Mater dolorosa" angle, presenting herself as this demure, ladylike mistress-of-the-house, which is helped by the fact that her husband's death gives her an excuse not to go out often. The perception that she's a frail widow crippled by grief — which is anything but the truth, as becomes clear pretty much by her first appearances of Lionheart — means that people in her pureblood circles don't make the same demands of her that they would of Lucius, and she absolutely exploits that to her advantage. They're both Gen X women who grew up during (if not slightly before) the second-wave feminist movement; their relationships with sex and social position flow from that. They don't break molds; they flip them to their advantage.

Anyway, I've totally neglected your question. To wit: Narcissa would say that Molly's greatest flaw is her inability to conceive of an ideal more important than happiness. Molly would say that Narcissa's is cowardice.

[nrilliree]

Contrary to what fervent TG supporters believe, the “rule of male primogeniture is sacred in quasi-medieval Westeros” argument actually isn’t as strong as they may think. Of course I’m not trying to say in the actual Middle Ages, women had the same rights (including the right of inheritance) and social status as their brothers but against all appearances, the very idea of female heir, ascending the throne after her father’s death, isn’t totally unknown to Medieval Europe.

Louis I of Hungary, for instance, had no sons and thusly his eldest daughter Mary was crowned KING (and not queen) of Hungary, and his younger daughter, Hedvig - KING (yet again, not queen) of Poland. Of course both coronations caused political turmoil in the abovementioned countries, both female kings’ position had to be strengthened by entering political marriages etc., but, once again, the  “tHiNgS uSeD tO bE dIfFeReNt In tHe MiDdLe AgEs” debating point sounds pretty unconvincing

I come from Poland and I have already mentioned the figure of King Jadwiga several times in the discussion with TG, mainly during the accusations "Rhaenyra was supposed to be a queen, but she did not give rights to women!", to show that in our country the first queen (or rather a female king) ) we had in the 14th century, and women received full voting rights only in the second decade of the 20th century. So accusing Rhaenyra of not "supporting women" because she did not equalize the rights of women and men during the first month of rule (and during the civil war) is stupid and ridiculous. They will just make up whatever comes to their mind to support their claims. Therefore, the issue of inheritance should be "according to the Middle Ages", because it works to their advantage, but the age of marriage should be perceived according to the 21st century, because - again - it works to their advantage.

[ranbling]

Also another crazy thing about Chase is that I’m pretty sure they implied that his half czech(or would it be Czechoslovakia in this context)? I might just be staring too deep into this but in Cursed, House described his dads accent as “Aussie with about 30 years of czech”. I’m not sure if that means he was born there or if he’s still Australian and just lived there for 30 years instead( but tbh it makes more sense that he was born there considering the episode takes about 10 years after he leaves). I guess the last name doesn’t match but then he could’ve taken his wives name, and as someone who’s slavic I know that back in the day a few of em who went abroad changed their names a bit to fit in better. Idk. It’s just insane that besides the seminary, the alcoholic mother he took care of, the sister he also took care of, being australian, and somehow being specialised in like 3 different fields of medicine before the age of 30(almost NONE of which is elaborated on btw) they decided to kind of throw this in??? What??? What are they doing with this guy??? How many more times will I be hit with random information about him like this??

I love how the writers are just adding random bits to his backstory and just....never mention it again

I think his dad is Czech and left the Czechoslovakia after he finished medschool (and probably his residency too), somewhere between when he was 25-30. Though I have many distant relatives who has left Hungary in the '50s and '60s, so I wasn't that suprised by that lol And it makes more sense that Chase is an englishified version than Rowan taking his wife's name ('cause he doesn't seem like the type)

Chase's age is my favourite thing in canon! In s1, he's said to be 26 (and he's been working for House for like a year pre-canon), but in s2 he's 29. I'm picking his age to be 26 in s1, 'cause it makes everything more hilarious. Chase is actually a child genius, but everyone still treats him like an idiot and crazy. Also yes, like him being an intensivist is actually shown, him being a surgeon too (and i don't remember what his actual position is when he's in that department, but I saw some say he's a resident, but I don't think so, he has to be a fellow with how much freedom he gets and how much surgeries he preforms). Also I know the cardiologist thing is kinda random, but I researched it and it comes from how only cardiologists can do peacemaker surgeries. Also the fact he did a residency in neurosurgery, but didn't take the board certification is insane

I just love all the random things the writers throw at him!

[eg515]

I want to tell you all a bit about what is currently happening in Hungary because once again the government chose Pride Month (which is in July here) to attack the lgbtq+ community. Three news from just the past week: queer books are wrapped in plastic in bookshops, a bench painted in rainbow colours started a war in Budapest, and a law about retirement was modified to specifically exclude trans women. I'm sure others posted about these, probably could put it better than me, but here it is in one place.

Books: two years ago the government passed a so-called "child protection" law, but it's most commonly reffered to as the anti-gay law. The law is supposed to protect children, but it bans all media depictions of anything that would "promote homosexuality" or different gender identities.

The law is hard to understand on purpose, to make it unclear what is against the law and what isn't, resulting in the censoring of everything even remotely not cishet in fear of accidentally breaking the law. One notable example of this is commercials on tv. All media "promoting" homosexuality or gender change has to have an age restriction on it, including commercials. But since it is unclear what this means, now all tv ads have a 12+ rating, on every channel.

Previously bookstores which sell lgbt themed books had to make this clear and separate these books, which resulted in many bookstores having signs on their doors saying they sell these books. Some bookstores were fined for failure to comply.

Last week people started noticing that in the biggest bookstore chain, Libri, certain books were wrapped in clear plastic. This all happened because of the anti-gay law. Books including lgbtq characters are now wrapped in plastic and cannot be sold at the YA section of the store, they are moved to the adult section, regardless of the topic. Multiple writers called this out on social media, finding their own books wrapped up and moved.

Once again, since the law in unclear, Libri is wrapping up random books, because there is no clear guideline what goes against the law and what doesn't.

From literally two hours ago: one of the biggest bookstore chains, Líra, was just fined for 12 million forints (approx. 35k dollars) for selling Heartstopper without the wrapping, in the YA section.

The Bench: last Thursday, Amnesty International, with the permission of the mayor of the district, painted a bench in Budapest rainbow colours.

This was supposed to symbolise love and acceptance, especially during Pride Month. Since then, the bench was painted 6 more times. First, two men belonging to the neonazi fanclub of the local football club painted the bench the club colours, green and white. Amnesty International filed a police report, and painted the bench back to the rainbow colours.

Then the bench was painted green and white by two football fans yet again, this time with the message "stop lmbtq". After this, someone painted it back to brown, and left a note saying "I just want to be a bench. Which is good for everyone. To you. To them. To us."

After this Amnesty International repainted it with the rainbow colours. Then just today, a right-wing party, Mi Hazánk painted it red-white-green, the national colours, and stated that they will offer protection to the football fans, they will do the sane painting to any rainbow coloured anything they find anywhere in the country, and if anyone paints over it, they will file a police report for damaging a national symbol.

update: just a few hours after the last painting, unknown people wrapped the bench in plastic, with the message "Lately LGBTQ+ content can only be in public in wrapping", referencing the plastic wrapped books

The transphobic retirement law: back in 2010, Fidesz, the current ruling party made a promise during its campaign, which since then became a law. Currently this "Nők40" (Women40) law allows women to retire after 40 years of work, including time spent raising a child, as a way to honour women.

In 2006 the EU ruled that transgender people are entitled to retirement according to the gender they are when retiring. In line with this, earlier this year a Hungarian court ruled in favour of a trans woman, allowing her to retire after 40 years of work, due to the Nök40 law. It is worth noting that she has legally changed her gender in all her offical papers in 2013, and only found out in 2021 that the pension payer still had her registered as a man, and due the transphobic Law 33 passed in 2020, the pension payer refused to correct her gender. The court later ruled in her favour though, and she can retire.

Now, a member of Fidesz argues that this ruling is "a gross provocation and a slap in the face of the legal system". She urged lawmakers to changed the law and make it clear what they mean by women, reminding everyone that Fidesz still maintains that there are only two biological genders.

This was yesterday. By today, a change in the law was prepared. The announcement said the law has been clear for everyone with common sense, but to avoid any "sensitized" judge using this legal loophole, they are now amending it so it stated the early retirement is for everyone who "worked as a woman for 40 years". They claim now nobody can just decide to suddenly want to be a woman for early retirement after working as a man for 39 years. Because obviously early retirement, in a country where it is impossible to make ends meet just on pension alone, is the main reason someone would "decide" to be trans. Obviously.

so, this is where we're at in Hungary, two days before the Budapest Pride Parade. another Pride Month, another attack on lgbtq rights. I don't really have a point with this, I don't want to guilt trip anyone. Just spreading the word, since we rarely read about non-usamerican news.

[tepli-mravenci]

So I'm watching Netflix's Castlevania and I've got to say every time a non-european show includes a map of Europe, it gives me brain damage

It's the year of our lord 1477~ and Europe does not look like that

Now I realize this is fiction, there are vampires and demons, but this is real Europe, they could've just set it in a random fantasy setting, they did not and this is not 1477 Europe

So what exactly is wrong here and why am I, a European that's otherwise terrible at geography, being a bitch about it?

The eastern part is pretty okay for post-middle-age map standards (I mean Moldavia is way too big and close and Hungary way too small and the borders should be a bit different but), maps weren't historically very accurate when it comes to the shapes and sizes of countries since we had no way of like, looking at them from high above

However something like borders with other countries would be damn important and there's mistakes there, that chunk of Poland at the bottom is supposed to belong to Hungary and Poland shouldn't actually touch Austria at all

The lines I drew are also not the most accurate cause this is a terrible map but basically the Kingdom of Poland should not expand to the west at all, there behind the line is the Holy Roman Empire (mostly modern Germany) and Bohemia (modern Czechia), (which was included in the HRE at the time according to some sources?), should also be there on the map

That's also the whole reason I even went back to the scene with the map at all, cause Saint-Germain mentioned he talked with the KING of BOHEMIA but BOHEMIA is NOT on the MAP.

The actual king of Bohemia around this time was Vladislaus II of Hungary who was originally from Poland (#just europe things). Which doesn't mean it was part of Hungary or Poland cause that's just not how the politics worked at the time. One king was often a king of multiple countries at once with them still being separate countries.

Austria is also way too close in shape to modern Austria which is also not right and since the Roman emperor at the time was Austrian it should really be a part of HRE way more than Bohemia that straight up disappeared.

Also Bavaria was not a city??? It was (and still is) a region if anything and not at all on the same level as Budapest, the placement of Transylvania is just as funky as the placement of Moldavia and what in god's name is Bosnia doing right under Austria??

Anyway if this isn't just non-europeans drawing Europe wrong the implications here are mostly that the Holy Roman Empire shriveled up and died which is not supposed to happen until a few centuries later, which would make sense if the church essentially brought hell on Earth by pissing off Dracula. Then Poland took over I suppose.

The rest could be explained by crap cartography of the post-middle-ages and small changes in politics due to the whole Dracula night hordes thing but I still needed to get this off my chest

If anyone can tackle (or tackled) this better than me (which is entirely possible, as I said I'm pretty bad at geography) you can let me know

My main issue here is that I don't know if I'm supposed to be like yo that's not what Europe should look like - as in - Europe is in complete chaos rn or if I'm supposed to be like ah yes normal map of Europe

Edit: pls go to the notes for even more info about how wrong this map is <3

[blacknwhitemood]

Back side:

Some details - behind the Iron Curtain:

Made in Hungary with the original price:

Catching Up With - inner paper cover:

Black Celebration with But Not Tonight at the end (USA edition):

Blue vinyl (German edition):

Violator in French and the new edition inside:

Duplicates:

This is my DM vinyl album collection - so far. I also collect 7" singles, you can read about it in another post. These albums released in the "original" year in different countries like West Germany, U.S.A., France, Yugoslavia and Hungary. It shows well the age of Depeche Mode that some of these countries are no longer exist.

Original DM LPs are rare if I don't want to order them from eBay for a fortune and uncertain delivery. I must be lucky - and I was. I bought them from a website where buddies like me sell their used items, a guy regulary sends me e-mails about his duplicates, I'm really appreciated. There is a second hand music recording shop not far from my flat, I remember I went there first time in October to buy MFTM in blue version (haha, now I know how rare it is). The shop was crowded, sellers were busy, I was a bit nervous. One of the customers asked loudly over the LP heap "So where is that Depeche Mode you talked about?" I turned there, he was given MFTM by the shop owner. "I leave it here for now, someone will really need it" - he said and I went to him for the vinyl "I was coming exactly for this album, I'm not kidding. I'm buying this" - we were laughing, the owner said this LP had arrived to the shop 17 minutes before I got it.

Or I just find them in my mother's potato cellar (!) where my sister left them in the early 90s: the Hungarian version of MFTM, and Violator by Virgin Records. I had to wash some black mold off them… I found the original price sticker from 1987 (280 HUF - today it would cost 15,000 HUF) and Violator has sticker at the front in French "L'album inclus Personal Jesus & Enjoy the silence". These were my first DM experience in my childhood when I was prepearing to a music high school and I learnt all of those strange songs on piano.

Unfortinately two important studio albums are missing yet from the 80s: one of my favourite, Some Great Reward, I'm sure we will find each other one day. I could've bought Speak & Spell but only the American version, too much differences, I prefer the other one. My Black Celebration is American too, that means you can find one more song at the end of B side, But Not tonight - this song has never released in Europe. I also love my Catching Up With, because the cover is wow (I mean hot), and the inner paper cover is full of photos, this way they promoted the band in the States. This singles collection released only in the USA, this is the American version of The Singles 81→85 with 4 differences. And I need SOFAD and it' singles, I'm afraid it's gonna be a difficult advanture.

Basicly I don't want to keep 2 or more versions of the albums, beside MFTM Violator is duplicated in a funny reason. I went to Müller shopping soaps and while I was standing in line at the checkout and I got a sight of vinyls next to puffed corn. "What if there is DM?" There was. Violator, new edition that you can order all of the albums in any time. This was my very first DM album, I just couldn't leave it there, my heart was beating loudly. After this I've decided to collect original vinyls only, because they have souls. Decades ago someone bought it and listened to is with joy and perhaps he or she was in love with someone and went to a concert or a flat party and they were dancing… When I hold these old, crumpled albums in my hand I can feel the past. It makes me so happy.

A Broken Frame 1982 Made in Yugoslavia (Jugoton)

Construction Time Again 1983 Made in West Germany

Catching Up With Depeche Mode 1985 Made in U.S.A.

Black Celebration 1986 Made in U.S.A.

Music For The Masses 1987 Made in West Germany (blue vinyl)

Music For The Masses 1987 Made in Hungary (Gong)

Violator 1990 Made in France (Virgin)

Violator 2016 (new edition - Sony)

[umlewis]

At the Invitation of Rimowa, Lewis Hamilton Makes A Pit Stop With ELLE

One of the most influential drivers in Formula 1 and protagonist of Rimowa's new campaign, Lewis Hamilton talks about traveling the world, his motivation after seven world titles, and his passion for fashion.

Lewis Hamilton started traveling at the age of thirteen because of motorsport. At 22 he joined Formula 1, which meant visiting around twenty countries for nine months, each year of the championship, and he has contested eighteen seasons so far. "Getting to know different places, and especially different cultures, really helped expand my mind and my understanding of the world," says the pilot. Naturally, then, the Englishman is one of the protagonists of the new campaign by Rimowa, a German brand that is a reference in luxury luggage. Named Never Still (or "always on the move"), it brings together personalities who have travel as the engine of their personal journey and evolution. And Hamilton never stopped surpassing himself. Born into a working-class English family, he has won seven world titles, a feat he shares only with Michael Schumacher. He also has the highest number of victories, pole positions and podiums in the most important category in world motorsport. After 945 days without a win, he took the top spot on his home podium at the British Grand Prix at Silverstone last month in one of the most thrilling achievements of his career. "There were times when I thought this would never happen again. (…) I had never cried when crossing the finish line," he said in the interview after the race. "That's what happens when you keep going. We stand up," he wrote on his Instagram profile, thanking his team, Mercedes. In the following race in Hungary he achieved the 200th podium of his career. After twelve years at the German team, the Englishman will start racing for Ferrari in 2025, in one of the most talked about moves in the sport in recent times.

The first (and still only) black driver in F1, he became a voice against racism and in defense of diversity in the sport, taking a firm stand in the midst of Black Lives Matter. Hamilton was not afraid to contrast the homogeneous look of his circuit colleagues, with his dreadlocks, tattoos and jewelry. His passion for fashion is clear-he has walked the Met Gala red carpet a few times, collaborates with major brands, is a constant presence in the front rows-and his willingness to dare. The driver shows a lot of his choices behind the scenes on the circuit, reinforcing his connection with fashion under the spotlight of F1. "I don't always get it right, but I think it's a matter of personal expression," he says. The Englishman also expressed several times his admiration for Ayrton Senna, who he chose as an idol when he was still a child. In 2022 Hamilton gained the title of honorary Brazilian citizen, and at the beginning of this year he went to Bahia to spend his rare days of dolce far niente. Away from the track he opened his own film production company, with which he is preparing a feature film about F1 with Brad Pitt and Javier Bardem, in which he will also act. Directed by Joseph Kosinski (Top Gun: Maverick), the production had scenes filmed at the British Grand Prix last year. At a pit stop in Seoul, where he posed for the photos that accompany this article, the driver spoke about his connection with Brazil, his admiration for Senna, travel, and fashion.

You will turn forty in 2025. What has age brought you? How different do you see yourself, compared to your twenties and thirties? "Deep down I'm still the boy I always was, but much more sure of myself, of what I want and where I want to go. I'm more comfortable with myself, in my own skin, enjoying my creativity, whether in music (Hamilton composes), or in fashion and sport. This brings me a lot of joy. At twenty everyone is a little lost, trying to figure out what they are and what to do. I feel like I have a north star. I think the forties will be the best. I will make them the best."

You've won seven world titles, broken a series of records, founded your own charity organization, and star in Rimowa's campaign. What motivates you? What are you looking for in the coming years? "You need to remember that life is short, to be present and find a balance between work and family. I am extremely motivated and I want to use the time I have here well. One of the things I'm most proud of is Mission 44 (an institution founded by the pilot with a focus on creating a more inclusive future for young people) and the work we are doing. Last year in São Paulo I managed to take sixty children from the city to the Autódromo de Interlagos, showing them the circuit, the pits and everything. I spent some time with them, who had ideas on how to solve some of the problems they face in Brazilian education and society. These are things I want to continue developing. I want to find out how I can use this initiative to impact people, especially children, who are the future. We need to encourage and create platforms for the next generation; the new innovators, the new designers, the new artists."

You've spent much of the last few years traveling the world. How did this influence you as a human being and as a pilot? "I started traveling when I was thirteen years old. I'm very lucky to be able to see the world. It's very different when you start traveling at a young age. Everything is the first time; the first time in Brazil, the first time in Italy. This news is so special. It's sad that you don't have the first time again, because it's very difficult to have the same feeling. Getting to know different places and especially different cultures really helped expand my mind and my understanding of the world, how vast it is and how different people interact. At the same time, we are all human beings and have a lot in common. I feel like it helped me understand humanity better, to have compassion, and I think you can be a better person when you have that understanding, unlike being in one city or country for many years."

What's never missing from your suitcase? "Face mask, a book or two, my laptop and headphones. These are the things I can't travel without."

You always seem very comfortable in Brazil. What attracts you to the country? "The thing I love most about Brazil is the people, the energy. When I was younger, growing up in England, it was the colors-the green and yellow of football shirts-that attracted me. I watched many Brazilian team games. And, of course, there was Senna. When I saw advertisements and documentaries about him, I could hear Brazilian music and drums in the background. I saw Carnival and how people celebrated. Every time I met Brazilians in England, they said, "I love it, I love the country." I don't think I've ever met anyone of another nationality who was so passionate about their country. So when I finally went to Brazil, I felt the energy. It's a very diverse country, which I love. I feel at home."

You are an honorary Brazilian citizen. "Yes. I need to learn Portuguese. [laughs]"

Your admiration for Senna is well known. Among so many F1 idols, how did your connection with the Brazilian come about? You were only nine years old when he died. "I started watching races when I spent the weekends with my father. I remember starting to watch them when I was around four years old. I was a very active boy and getting me to sit down was not easy, but for some reason I stopped with him for the grand prix. Ayrton's toy car models were what I wanted for Christmas. When I watched his videos, I felt like I understood the things he represented, how honest he was. I wanted to drive his way. I felt a connection. I remember I was racing (in a kart) the day he died and my father came to deliver the news. It knocked me down. At nine years old I had not yet had this experience. I remember crying for weeks. It was difficult and strange because I didn't know him, he wasn't from my country, but he meant so much to me. Over these years, I learned to love the person he was."

You really like fashion; you have a defined style. How would you describe it and what do you enjoy using it most? "I would say it is urban chic, quite sophisticated. I like taking risks. I love fashion, and when you enter this world you see how diverse and creative it is. I love being in that space, because I absorb a lot of inspiration. In everyday life, I love being comfortable. For example, I flew here in this sweater. Right now I'm creating amazing tailoring, something similar to suits but more comfortable than regular suits. I'm constantly learning from people and the fashion world. I don't always get it right, but I think it's a matter of personal expression."

[girlactionfigure]

The Heroic Nanny: Erzsebet Fajo

She saved the entire family

Erzsebet Fajo was a brave young babysitter who saved the lives of her employers – a family of four – during the Nazi occupation of Hungary in 1944.

Erzsebet Fajo was a Slovakian girl from a poor family who emigrated to Hungary by herself at age 13 to work as a nanny. She found employment with the Abonyis, a Jewish family in the small town of Bekescsaba. Parents Laszlo and Margit treasured Erzsebet as a member of the family, and she became like a big sister to their two children, Zsuzsanna and Ivan.

In 1941, the family moved to Budapest because of anti-Jewish persecution in Bekescsaba, and of course Erzsebet went with them. Despite the violent turmoil engulfing Europe, life in Hungary was relatively normal for the Abonyi family. Hungarian President Miklos Horthy had an alliance with Hitler’s Germany, but was reluctant to enforce Nazi decrees against the Jews. That reluctance, plus Horthy’s secret attempts to strike a deal with the Allies, led Germany to invade Hungary in March 1944.

The country was now run by the pro-Nazi Arrow Cross party and the situation for Hungary’s Jews got very bad very quickly. All Jews from the moment of birth were required to wear a yellow star prominently displayed on their clothing. Erzsebet, who felt like a member of the Abonyi family, wanted to wear a star too even though she wasn’t Jewish. Instead, they sadly told her she’d have to leave their employment to save her own life – non-Jews weren’t allowed to work for Jews. The Abonyis knew their days were numbered. Ten year old Zsuzsanna tried to convince her parents to commit suicide rather than be separated and murdered. Of course they refused to consider such a drastic act and tried everything to get out of Hungary but they were trapped.

At that point, young Erzsebet stepped up to become the family’s savior. Zsuzsanna remembered, “How (could) she save (us)? She didn’t have any money. She didn’t have an independent life… It (was) very sweet, but it (had) no validity. But I was wrong to think that. When the siege of Budapest started (and) virtually every home was ruined and bombed down, she was in the streets trying to get false papers.”

Erzsebet visited the Abonyis every day, bringing them food as well as medicine and other essential goods. She took all their valuables and brought them to an aunt so they wouldn’t be plundered by the Nazis.

On October 15, 1944 Laszlo Abonyi was arrested at his home and taken to a deportation center, where he awaited transport to a brutal Nazi slave labor camp.

Determined to save him, Erzsebet boldly approached the Red Cross and somehow obtained a letter of protection that she used to get Laszlo released. She knew the Abonyis were not safe in their home, and not sure what to do she pleaded with a local priest for assistance and advice. He helped her get letters from the Vatican which made the family eligible to take shelter in a building in Budapest owned by the Apostolic Nuncio. The Abonyis sheltered there for a few weeks, until the facility was attacked by the Arrow Cross. Storm troopers forced all the Jews outside and prepared to shoot them on the banks of the Danube river. Somehow, in the chaos, Erzsebet helped all four Abonyis escape.

For the next two months, Erzsebet found hiding places for the Abonyis and obtained forged papers for them. She continued visiting each member of the family every day, even though they were all in different parts of Budapest. Finally Erzsebet found safe shelter for the family in a “White Cross Hospital” – an apartment building packed with bunk beds where families targeted by the Nazis were hiding out.

Hungary was liberated by the Soviet Union in January 1945 and the Abonyis were able to return to their apartment. After the war they legally adopted Erzsebet, making it official that she was a member of the Abonyi family. They sent her to school so she could get a good education, and left her a third of their estate. Zsuzsanna and her husband left Hungary following the failed revolution of 1956 and moved to the United States, where Zsuzsanna became a respected writer, professor and founder of the Holocaust Studies Program at the University of Texas. She maintained a close correspondence with her adopted sister until Erzsebet’s death in 1995.

Erzsebet Fajo was honored as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem in 1986. In her testimony, Zsuzsanna said, “Driven by the desire to save us, Erzsi defied the Germans. She saved us from death, saved my brother and me from becoming orphans and my parents from the worst anguish that can befall people – the loss of their children. It was her strength and heroism that gave us life, allowed us to grow up and eventually have children of our own.”

For her astonishing bravery in saving the life of an entire family, we honor Erzsebet Fajo as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[mariacallous]

The Times has a rather odd piece today about Radek Sikorski, the new Polish foreign minister. Headlined “Why Poland’s new foreign minister reminds people of Boris Johnson,” it points out that Radek, like Johnson and indeed David Cameron, went to Oxford and joined the Bullingdon Club.

Well, yes, he did, and thank you for reminding us, but we should not hold that against him because there is one glaring and obvious difference between Boris Johnson and Radek Sikorski. Unlike so many Conservatives and Republicans, Sikorski did not succumb to populism. His return to power in Poland is an optimistic moment as it came as part of the regime change that drove the crank right law and justice party from power.

Sikorski fell out with Johnson over Brexit. He knew perfectly well that Johnson did not believe in leaving the EU because had Johnson had told him as much. But then 2016 rolled along and Johnson realised that Brexit was the cause that could propel him to power.

The story of their relationship is told by Sikorski’s wife Anne Applebaum in her memoir Twilight of Democracy: The Failure of Politics and the Parting of Friends, one of the best accounts of the rise of the new right in Europe, the UK and the US I have read.

When I gave it a glowing review in the Observer, a few readers complained. Why was I praising a conservative? I pointed out that her background meant that she understood the extent of the right’s betrayal of free markets and free societies better than any leftist. Give me a compromised insider over a purist outsider any day. The insiders know where the bodies are buried.

Here is what I wrote

Anne Applebaum can look at the wreck of democratic politics and understand it with a completeness few contemporary writers can match. When she asks who sent Britain into the unending Brexit crisis, or inflicted the Trump administration on America, or turned Poland and Hungary into one-party states, she does not need to search press cuttings. Her friends did it, she replies. Or, rather, her former friends. For if they are now embarrassed to have once known her, the feeling is reciprocated.

Applebaum’s latest book, Twilight of Democracy: The Failure of Politics and the Parting of Friends, opens with a scene a novelist could steal. On 31 December 1999, Applebaum and her husband, Radosław Sikorski, a minister in Poland’s then centre-right government, threw a party. It was a Millennium Eve housewarming for a manor house in the western Poland they had helped rebuild from ruins. The company of Poles, Brits, Americans and Russians could say that they had rebuilt a ruined world. Unlike the bulk of the left of the age, they had stood up against the Soviet empire and played a part in the fall of a cruel and suffocating tyranny. They had supported free markets, free elections, the rule of law and democracies sticking together in the EU and Nato, because these causes – surely – were the best ways for nations to help their people lead better lives as they faced Russian and Chinese power, Islamism and climate change.

They were young and happy. History’s winners. “At about three in the morning,” Applebaum recalls, “one of the wackier Polish guests pulled a pistol from her handbag and shot blanks into the air out of sheer exuberance.”

Applebaum was at the centre of the overlapping circles of guests. For the Americans, she was a child of the Republican establishment. Her father was a lawyer in Washington DC and she was educated at Yale and Oxford universities. Now her Republican friends are divided between a principled minority, who know that defeating Trump is the only way to save the American constitution, and the rest, who have, to use a word she repeats often, “collaborated” as surely as the east Europeans she studied as a historian collaborated with the invading Soviet forces after 1945.

Even when she was young, you could see the signs of the inquiring spirit that has made her a great historian. She went to work as a freelance journalist in eastern Europe while it was still under Soviet occupation and too drab and secretive a posting for most young reporters. She then made a standard career move and joined the Economist. But it was too dull for her liking and she moved to the Spectator in the early 1990s. The dilettante style of English conservatism charmed her. “These people don’t take themselves seriously and could never do serious harm,” she thought, as she watched Simon Heffer and his colleagues compete to see who could deliver the best Enoch Powell impersonation. She came to know the conservative philosopher Roger Scruton and Margaret Thatcher’s speechwriter John O’Sullivan, figures taken with unwarranted seriousness at the time. They had helped east European dissidents struggling against Soviet power in the 1980s and appeared to believe in democracy. Why would she doubt it? How could she foresee that Scruton and O’Sullivan would one day accept honours from Viktor Orbán, as he established a dictatorship in Hungary, whose rigged elections and state-controlled judiciary and media are now not so far away from the communists’ one-party state.

What was life in the English right like then, I asked in a call to her Polish lockdown in that restored manor house in the countryside between Warsaw and the German border. “It was fun,” she said.

It isn’t now.

Her husband knew Boris Johnson. They were both members of the Bullingdon Club at Oxford. She assumed that he was as much a liberal internationalist as Sikorski was. When the couple met Johnson for dinner in 2014, she noted his laziness and “all-consuming narcissism”, as well as the undoubted charisma that was to seduce and then ruin his country. In those days, Johnson appeared friendly. He was alarmed by the global challenge to democracy, he told them, and wanted to defend “the culture of freedom and openness and tolerance”. They asked about Europe. “No one serious wants to leave the EU,” he replied, which was true enough as Johnson was to prove when he came out for Brexit.

As for the Poles at the party, they knew Applebaum as a friend who had co-authored a Polish cookbook, and published histories of communism, which never forgot its victims.

Today she is a heretical figure across the right in Europe and America. Many of her guests would damage their careers if they admitted to their new masters they had once broken bread at her table.

Heretics make the best writers. They understand a movement better than outsiders, and can relate its faults because they have seen them close up. Religions can tolerate pagans. They are mere unbelievers who have never known the way, the truth and the light. The heretic has the advantages of the inside trader. She can use her knowledge to expose and betray the faithful. One question always hangs in the air, however: who is betraying whom? Although Applebaum has left the right, and stopped voting Conservative in Britain in 2015 and Republican in the US in 2008, she can make a convincing case that the right betrayed her.

In person, Applebaum combines intense concentration with an exuberant delight in human folly. You can be in the middle of a deadly serious conversation and suddenly she will break into a grin as the memory of a politician’s hypocrisy or an incomprehensible stupidity hits her. As the western crisis has deepened, the intensity has come to dominate her writing as she provides urgently needed insights.

You can read thousands of discussions of the “root causes” of what we insipidly call “populism”. The academic studies aren’t all wrong, although too many are suspiciously partial. The left says austerity and inequality caused Brexit and Trump, proving they had always been right to oppose austerity and inequality. The right blames woke politics and excessive immigration, and again you can hear the self-satisfaction in the explanation.

Applebaum offers an overdue corrective. She knows the personal behind the political. She understands that the nationalist counter-revolution did not just happen. Politicians hungry for office, plutocrats wanting the world to obey their commands, second-rate journalists sniffing a chance of recognition after years of obscurity, and Twitter mob-raisers and fake news fraudsters, who find a sadist’s pleasure in humiliating their opponents, propelled causes that would satisfy them.

Applebaum let out a snort that must have been heard for miles around her Polish home when I mentioned the journalist and author David Goodhart’s pro-Brexit formulation that we are living through an uprising by the “people from somewhere” against the “people from nowhere” – a modern variant on the old communist condemnations of “rootless cosmopolitans”, incidentally. It’s a war of one part of the elite against another part of the elite, she says. Brexit was an elite project. “The game was to get everyone to go along with it”. Were all the southern Tories who voted for it a part of the oppressed masses? “And who do you think funded the campaign?”

She is as wary of the commonplace view that supporters of Trump, say, are conformists, who have been brainwashed online or by Fox News. They may be now in some part, but brainwashing does not explain how populist movements begin. Their leaders weren’t from small towns full of abandoned shops and drug-ridden streets. They were metropolitans, with degrees from Oxford in the case of Johnson and Dominic Cummings. The men and women Applebaum knew were not loyal drones but filled with a dark restlessness. They may pose as the tribunes of the common people now but they were members of the intellectual and educated elite willing to launch a war on the rest of the intellectual and educated elite.

Populist activists are outsiders only in that they feel insufficiently rewarded. And their opponents should never underestimate what their self-pitying vanity can make them do.

One of Applebaum’s closest Polish friends, the godmother of one of her children, and a guest at the 1999 party, provided her with the most striking example. She moved from being a comfortable but obscure figure to become a celebrated Warsaw hostess and a confidante to Poland’s new rulers. She signalled her break and opened her prospects for advancement with a call to Applebaum within days of the Smolensk air crash of April 2010. She let her know she was adopting a conspiracy theory that would make future friendship impossible.

Outsiders need to take a deep breath before trying to understand it. Among the dead was Lech Kaczyński, the president of Poland, who controlled the rightwing populist party Law and Justice with his twin brother, Jarosław Kaczyński. The party has grown to dominate Polish politics, and the supposedly independent courts, media and civil service. The flight recorder showed that the pilot had come in too low in thick fog, and that was an end to it. Jarosław Kaczyński and his underlings insist that the Russians were behind the crash, or that political rivals in Warsaw, including Applebaum’s husband, allowed the president to fly in a faulty plane, or that it was an assassination. Repeating the lie was the price of admission to Law and Justice’s ruling circles and the public sector jobs they controlled. As Applebaum noted in the Atlantic magazine: “Sometimes the point isn’t to make people believe a lie – it’s to make people fear the liar.” Acknowledge the liar’s power, and your career takes off without the need to pass exams or to display an elementary level of competence.

Other friends from the party showed their fealty to the new order by promoting antisemitic conspiracy theories. The darker their fantasies became, the more airtime Polish state broadcasters gave them. “They had not suffered or been ‘left behind’ in any way,” Applebaum says. Yet they happily worked for propaganda sites that targeted her family. Because she is married to a political opponent of Law and Justice, and because she writes critical pieces in the international press, Applebaum, who had faced no racism in Poland until Law and Justice came to power, was turned by the regime’s creatures into the clandestine Jewish coordinator of “anti-Polish activity”.

I once believed you should never let politics destroy a friendship. But that maxim depends on politics not turning into a danger to you and those you love. Applebaum could not stay friends with women who would not protest as the state they supported went for her and husband.

The Anglo-Saxon world is not so different from Poland and Hungary. Britain has handled Covid-19 so disastrously because only servile nobodies, willing to pretend that a no-deal Brexit would not harm the country, could gain admittance to Boris Johnson’s cabinet. As Johnson politicises the public sector, showing “fear of the liar” looks like becoming the best way to secure a job in the higher ranks of the civil service as well. American Republicans have had to go along with every lie Trump has told since his birther slur on Barack Obama. As for breaking friendships, British Jews broke theirs when they watched friends in Labour cheer on Jeremy Corbyn and thought: “If they ever came for me and my family, you would stand by, wouldn’t you?”

Careerism is too glib an explanation for selling out, and Applebaum is too good a historian to offer it. Likewise, bigotry and racial prejudice were never enough on their own to move her friends away from liberal democracy. Among Applebaum’s acquaintances is one of Orbán’s greatest cheerleaders. She has a gay son, but that has not stopped her espousing the cause of a homophobic regime. Laura Ingraham, a Fox News presenter, became one of the earliest supporters of Trump, despite the fact that she has adopted three immigrant children.

Rather than grab at standard explanations, Applebaum understands that a society based on merit may sound fine if you want to live in a country run by talented people. But what if you are not yourself talented? Since the 1950s, criticisms of meritocracy have become so commonplace they have passed into cliche. Not one I have read or indeed written stops to consider how one-party states represent the anti-meritocratic society in its purest form. Among her friends who became the servants of authoritarian movements, Applebaum sees the consequences of the lust for status among resentful men and women, who believe the old world never gave them their due.

They were privileged by normal standards but nowhere near as privileged as they expected to be. Talking to Applebaum, I imagined a British government abolishing press freedom and the independence of the judiciary and the civil service. I didn’t doubt for a moment that there would be thousands of mediocre journalists, broadcasters, lawyers and administrators who would happily work for the new regime if it pandered to their vanity by giving them the jobs they could never have taken on merit. Hannah Arendt wrote of the communists and fascists that they replaced “first-rate talents” with “crackpots and fools whose lack of intelligence and creativity” was the best guarantee of their loyalty. She might have been talking about contemporary Poland, Britain and America.

“Given the right conditions any society can turn against democracy,” Applebaum says, and explains why better than any modern writer I know. To the political consequences of offended vanity – Why am I not more important? Why does the BBC never call? – a sense of despair is vital. If you believe, like the American right, that godless enemies want to destroy your Christian country, and prove their malice by not giving you the rewards you deserve, or think, like Scruton and the Telegraph crowd of the 1990s, that English culture and history is being thrown in the bin, and you are being chucked away with it, or agree with the supporters of the new tyrants of eastern Europe that a liberal elite is plotting to extinguish your culture by importing Muslim immigrants, and proving its contempt for all that is decent by laughing at you, then any swine will do as long as the swine can stop it. You will pay any price and abandon any principle in the struggle against a demonic enemy.

Shouldn’t she have seen it coming, I ask her. Shouldn’t she have realised that the world she inhabited included authoritarians, who would turn on her and everything she believed in. Typically, instead of huffing, puffing, and trying to pretend she has never been in the wrong, she laughs and admits that she probably should have asked harder questions sooner of her former friends.

Readers should be glad she bided her time. Applebaum can bring a candle into the darkness of the populist right precisely because she stayed on the right for so long. She does not know whether it can be beaten. She’s a journalist not a soothsayer. But I know that if you want to fight it, her writing is an arsenal that stores the sharpest weapons to hand.

[dailywusiala]

english translation of this paywall-hidden interview:

find the german version here

Jamal Musiala is only 21 years old, but he is already a key player for the German national team. He has only just moved into his first own apartment. A conversation about growing up in the public eye and dreams outside of sports.

After training with the national football team, Jamal Musiala arrives in high spirits for his interview with WELT AM SONNTAG at the Adidas Homeground, the training facility of the German Football Association in Herzogenaurach. Inside the building, golf bags are lined up for the players to use during their free time. Musiala examines them closely. "I need to stay up to date when it comes to equipment," he says with a smile.

A few days later, he will play an outstanding international match, scoring one goal and assisting three more in a 5-0 victory against Hungary in the Nations League.

WELT AM SONNTAG: Mr. Musiala, do you play golf?

Jamal Musiala: Yes, but I haven’t played in a long time. Thomas Müller and Harry Kane, my teammates at FC Bayern, are very good golfers. Thomas is the better of the two – at least that's what he says (laughs). So I definitely need to practice again to get on their level.

WAMS: There’s a stereotype that golf is more popular with people over 30. Do you feel too young for this sport?

Musiala: Not at all. Golf is just fun.

WAMS: You’ve already won the German Championship four times, two European Championships, played in a World Cup, appeared in 34 international matches, and over a hundred games for FC Bayern – and you’re only 21. Recently, you moved out of your mother’s house.

Musiala: Yes, I moved from my mother’s house into an apartment. It’s a bit different now, but I like it. I really enjoy having my own peace, as we say in English, my own space where it’s quiet. What I really miss, though, is my mom’s delicious food. But I’ve found a good solution – and I enjoy cooking myself now and then.

WAMS: Are you a good cook?

Musiala: Not at all (laughs). But, like with golf, I just enjoy it.

WAMS: But you can manage to make your beloved Maultaschen?

Musiala: Yes, they’re easy. But I can’t eat them too often.

WAMS: At the Euros, you were the top scorer with three goals, along with five other players. Have you set up a trophy room in your first apartment yet?

Musiala: I don’t have much space, so I’ve left all the trophies at my mom’s house.

WAMS: Others your age are just moving into shared apartments, studying, or starting apprenticeships. You debuted in the Bundesliga at 17. How much do you actually experience the everyday reality of your generation?

Musiala: I’ve been in the football world from a young age, so I don’t have many friends outside of sports. I’d like to have more, but you can’t force it. Friendships are important to me. As a teenager, I was in the FC Chelsea Academy, and that’s where friendships formed that have lasted to this day. That means a lot to me.

WAMS: If you hadn’t become a footballer, what do you think you’d be doing today?

Musiala: Funny that you ask, because I was just thinking about that a few days ago. I would definitely do something creative. Maybe study architecture or work as an architect. I always enjoyed drawing in school.

WAMS: Your first own apartment, your fifth season with Bayern, your fourth year in the national team – your nickname "Bambi," which teammate Leroy Sané gave you because of your skinny legs, no longer really fits. Does this current phase of your life feel like growing up?

Musiala: I don’t mind the nickname Bambi; anyone can still call me that. Of course, I’ve grown with experience and I’m no longer the Bambi player. I’ve been through a lot at a young age, and hopefully, there will be many more games and titles to come. Consistency is key, and I do everything I can to maintain that. I rely on good routines and take care of my body.

WAMS: It’s said that you also do a lot of individual training in addition to your team practices.

Musiala: That basically started in our garden when I was a child. My dad played football himself and always told me, "Your coaches will do everything they can to help you become a pro, but the extra effort, the extra miles, you have to do yourself. No one will force you to do that. That drive has to come from within." I thought that message was cool and it made sense. I still take it to heart and always think about what I can do to take another step forward. No matter how many titles I win or how much my status changes, my work ethic and mentality won’t change. I’ll always look for ways to improve and stay open to learning and growing. This mindset has always worked well for me.

WAMS: You also do neuro-athletic training. What exactly do you train?

Musiala: It’s mainly about stability and movement. We train my eye speed, which is very important for my turning movements and positioning on the field. The faster my eyes move, the quicker I can anticipate. The first touch of the ball is often decisive, and this training helps me execute the ideas I have on the pitch.

WAMS: You mentioned your routines earlier. What do they look like?

Musiala: For example, I have a set routine on matchdays. I always take a nap in the afternoon, and then I recite my affirmations. I always step onto the pitch with my right foot. And if I’ve scored a goal – whether for Germany or Bayern – I wear the same pair of boots in the next match until I stop scoring (laughs).

WAMS: What affirmations do you say?

Musiala: They’re affirmations that I’ve tried out and developed over time, and they work well for me.

WAMS: Can you share one with us?

Musiala: Sorry, that’s like making a wish when blowing out birthday candles – you’re not supposed to tell anyone.

WAMS: Who is the most important advisor in your life?

Musiala: I listen a lot to my coaches and teammates, and to the feedback from my family and close friends.

WAMS: Young adults your age are often referred to as the “TikTok generation.” Do you check the feedback on social media?

Musiala: Not much. After a match, I do look at the comments sometimes. Using social media is normal, I think, but over time I’ve learned to distance myself from it. I don’t need it. Negative comments can bring you down.

WAMS: So you haven’t left an angry or praising comment on your idol Stephen Curry’s social media accounts yet?

Musiala: (laughs) Now that you mention it, maybe I’ll do that with a fake account. No, Curry knows how good he is. What he did at the Olympics was incredible. He represents top performance and entertainment. And he never makes unnecessary moves just to show off. He always focuses on the team. That’s the standard I want to live up to as well. I want people to come to the stadium and enjoy watching me, while I always give everything for the team. I can learn a lot from Curry.

WAMS: Do you watch a lot of NBA?

Musiala: Every Warriors game. I’m a real fan. I’m really excited for the season to start again in October. I thought the Warriors would make a few more trades, get a few more players, but okay – we’ll see how the season goes.

WAMS: Teammates and coaches describe you as very down-to-earth. Yet your rise from talent to star was rapid; over five million people follow you on Instagram, and you’re seen as the future of German football. How do you manage to stay grounded?

Musiala: That has a lot to do with how I was raised and how my parents brought me up. I just stay the way I am – open and respectful to people. You always get that back. Fame and money might change the lifestyle a bit, but not my values and attitude.

WAMS: With Thomas Müller, Manuel Neuer, Ilkay Gündogan, and Toni Kroos having retired from the national team, are you now expected to step up as a leader? Is that what coach Julian Nagelsmann is expecting of you, despite your young age?

Musiala: At the Euros, I realized that I can take on more responsibility. But all of us have to take responsibility on the pitch. We help each other. The more experience I gain, the more I’ll grow into a leadership role.

WAMS: Nagelsmann recently announced the new team council, and you’re not part of it – which record national player Lothar Matthäus criticized.

Musiala: That’s totally fine with me. We have a very open relationship with each other and with the coaching staff. Whenever I want to express my opinion or it’s asked for, I’ll say it. I don’t have to be part of the team council to be a leader. I’ve known Julian for quite a while, and we get along really well.

WAMS: After the quarter-final exit at the Euros in Germany, Nagelsmann set the goal for the 2026 World Cup: "We want to become world champions." How realistic is that?

Musiala: We can definitely win the title in 2026. With a bit more luck, we would have at least made it to the semifinals at the Euros. As a team, we've made good progress recently and will continue to develop over the next two years. We’ve learned from the Euros and want to go far in the World Cup.

WAMS: What are your personal goals for the coming months?

Musiala: I always want to be better than in the previous season. I want to further improve my strengths and work on the things I didn’t do so well recently.

WAMS: What are those things?

Musiala: Decision-making – making the right decision quickly on the field; there’s still room for improvement. That’s crucial in football. I also want to get into more scoring positions. That worked well during the Euros. I definitely want to get into the penalty area more often. That’s why I was very happy to score a “simple goal” recently for FC Bayern in Wolfsburg, where I was in the right place to tap it in.

WAMS: You once mentioned a principle for your play: no dribbling in your own half.

Musiala: That’s not always the case, but it's generally true. Recently, at Bayern, I’ve been positioned deeper during build-up play, so sometimes you need to dribble to start an attack and pull an opponent out of position. I do what the situation requires. In football, anything can happen, something unexpected. Intuition and anticipation are crucial.

WAMS: You were influenced by English football as a youth – and you’ve moved around quite a lot in your young life…

Musiala: … very often, yes.

WAMS: You were born in Stuttgart, then moved to Fulda because your mother Carolin began her studies there. From there, she took you to Southampton for an Erasmus program, then back to Fulda. Chelsea scouted you, and you moved to London – and eventually to Munich when you joined Bayern. Where is home for you?

Musiala: That’s something we’ve often asked ourselves within the family. For me, home is where I live. And where my family is. They are the most important thing in my life. We have a very close bond. That will never change. I have a younger sister and a younger brother. The fact that we siblings tease each other for fun will never change either.

WAMS: Are you already thinking about starting your own family?

Musiala: I’ve always been a family person. But I haven’t thought about starting my own family yet. I don’t have a timeline for that. I like my life the way it is right now. Football, occasionally going out with friends – it’s perfect for me at the moment.

WAMS: One of your best friends is Joshua Zirkzee from Manchester United, and you were recently on vacation together in the USA. He recently told a fan that he tried to convince you to move to United.

Musiala: Friends always joke and dream about playing on the same team one day. The teasing goes both ways: I also told Josh to come back to Bayern. But you shouldn’t take that too seriously.

WAMS: Your contract with FC Bayern runs until the summer of 2026. How much would you like to play for a global club abroad someday? Your friend Jude Bellingham moved from Borussia Dortmund to Real Madrid.

Musiala: I’m very happy at FC Bayern and fully focused on our goals with the club and the national team. I don’t give much thought to where I’ll be playing in five years. In the football world, things can change quickly.

WAMS: Mr. Musiala, what is a dream you have for your life outside of sports?

Musiala: I would love to go on a world tour. You need time for that, though. Between seasons, I only have a maximum of three weeks of vacation, and that’s not enough. It was exciting to visit the USA for the first time. For example, I was fascinated by Las Vegas. I’m also very interested in many Asian cities. Discovering countries and cultures is fun and broadens your horizons. Someday, I’ll travel a lot. In ten to fifteen years, I’ll start planning that more seriously.