roma★
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
trying on a metaphor
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Today's Document
DEAR READER
Misplaced Lens Cap
Origami Around
Acquired Stardust
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Keni
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Xuebing Du
titsay
blake kathryn
we're not kids anymore.
seen from Türkiye
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@co1one1jgr
[[I will take your turret, your shield, and your tracks]]
[ […………………………..at the intersection of obsession and throwing yourself into your work. Nothing less will make you the best. Any ripple to threaten that met with unyielding force………….…………………………]]
[ DOCUMENT ] communication by M
{30 jahre alt} low/sporatic activity, but you will be given attention
//asks are best for interaction
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blogs by the same writer: Blixtandetorst
//I think what I like most about Klaus is that he’s kind of a contradiction. He could easily be put in the: power hungry, authoritarian, stoic, menacing character trope without reading more into him. But he does have a much more human, friendly side thats ever present but seldom seen. It’s so easy to write him off as just an unfeeling villain if one really wishes to. And I know good characters are just that, human. Full of contradictions and multifaceted but I love that it’s very present for him. And not to be an astrology person on main again but he really does embody Scorpio energy like that. His inner self is only revealed when he chooses. Otherwise, how he presents himself, the stern hardened man he was made to be is all you ever get to see.
“Nobody understands why you fight with him. It’s supposed to be a secret between the pair of you. I believe it’s a secret of your very own. I believe you feed your spite on him with no more sense than a blood-sucking louse.”
THE DUELLISTS, directed by Ridley Scott (1977)
Basil Rathbone and J. Edward Bromberg in The Mark of Zorro (1940)
Something something Klaus Jäger //
As Ivushkin was mid-speech to his men, the damned Colonel decided the white flag hasn’t been risen high enough to count. Ivushkin’s words died into frost in the air, earning only attention to those who could’ve heard it. Suppressing his indignation at the act, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the other man. Then, he realized that wasn’t noble of him—considering Jäger’s ranks—and turned his body fully to face Jäger. He didn’t stand at attention to avoid showing too much respect, but his posture was enough to demonstrate to his men how to address even the worst of individuals. They would encounter far worse in their own battles; the Russian commanders were not the paragons they were meant to uphold. Every war hardens a man, yet the strongest among them choose to retain their humanity. That is the only way to determine if a man is truly a man. The man before him was only half of one, and even that was an exaggeration. Regardless, he raised his chin in a gesture that would encourage the other to speak. It seemed that the Colonel didn’t like distance; like a magnet, he was pulled closer to Ivushkin. Did he think he was poor at hearing? He sustained some loss of it in his career, but he could still make out Colonel even if he spoke. Ivushkin let him have it, but he couldn’t do that for long. Ivushkin didn’t let much escape his frigid inscrutability; the slight twitch of his eyebrow couldn’t help but escape. He could hear shuffling behind him, as if the words were understood not just by him, but he didn’t look back. Colonel had a look in his eyes that suggested he understood the game he was playing and was determined not to lose it. He was just pressing buttons, trying to figure out which throttle fires the turret, that’s all. Nikolay chose to keep the burn and boil suppressed, however difficult it was. It proved to be quite, as his words came out without premeditating them. Walking to the Colonel in the same fearless steps the Colonel had, Ivushkin didn’t shrink from the man’s impending shadow. “Don’t come near him. If you think he left snow in your shiny boots, forget it.” Even if he knew that what he said was incorrect or too direct, he would have said it anyway because it carried its meaning. There was no reason to latch onto those who had done nothing than stood victim of Colonel’s path of blame. He’s known Ivan, and he would rather face the tank’s turret than mess with a high rank. Anya tried to step forward to smooth over his words, but Nikolay glared her into stillness as soon as he saw her open her mouth on the sidelines, much like an older brother desiring the little ones not to make the situation worse. He stood his ground in front of the man, a little daring with how he stared into Jägers eyes. “Leave my men to me, Fritz”. An old word often talked about the Germans, it was a wound in the Second World War. Ivushkin didn’t care to order a high rank, never had one. It made him end up in low places, but his men’s morale and respect for him mattered more. What Colonel asked wasn’t just a question; it was a threat. And if he’s anything like the commanders out there in the field, he’d challenge orders before submitting to what needs to be. He looked down with his eyes and slightly stepped on Colonel’s boot tip, coating it with flakes of snow. He then looked up with his eyes, the hoods slimmer and eyebrows furrowed. A wordless comment on how idiotic the complaint was.
Jäger's eyes followed to where the Junior Lieutenant dropped his. To the scuffing, or attempt there of to the toe of his boot. It told him all he needed to know of this soviet tank ace. That even with all of his perception abilities clearly it was tailor made for one purpose and one purpose only, and it wasn't to discern what the Colonel had so boldly told them all just minutes before.
A concept he found more insulting than the incident itself. But anyone who heard him, really heard him would gather that much. The boots were never the issue. Even now as the Russian finished his mocking Jager's demeanor remained composed. The boots could be polished again, he doubted anything even stuck with how the snow coated their outsides, where the snow should be. Too wrapped up in his cadet's and neglecting his own best interests.
The air thicker with their audience's now unbroken dead silent attention. Jager's eyes back where they were, on the Junior Lieutenant's face without a hint of woe, or anger. His gloved hand clamping onto either side of the man's jaw was quick. His flanks left open as he was only watching his 12 and 6 o'clocks. The Colonel holding him here as a fisher would a prized catch. drawing his chin upwards and squeezing his cheeks forward. The pressure carefully measured to keep him in hand.
"You mistake this for the battlefield." The vice pressure increasing ever so. "I am not to be fought. Everyone and everything that happens in this program answers to me. There is no second option." His voice followed, strung tight but only to give his words their sting. The pain of an antiseptic in an open wound. Gripping incrementally, squeezing more flesh harder by the second till he held it steady when it looked to visibly pain the Russian. when his eyebrows knit together and tried to slide his face from the lock it was held in. "I will return in two hours to check your progress. Lets hope we don't lose more than that today."
Then he let go. His own hand lingered in the air a moment before returning to his side. without breaking his sightline at Ivushkin, Jäger shouted for the rest of them. "DISMISSED!" Taking his own leave back to the interior of the building. The hand he held Ivushkin with being squeezed and stretched by his side as he motioned Thielicke over with a head tilt to mutter something only the two of them could hear. The German cadets being tasked to their own day's work without delay.
Soviet and East German tank drivers during a military exercise.
Column of East German T-55 tanks.
Soviet and East German soldiers.
East German T-72 tanks during maneuvers.
repost and bold what applies to your muse
meme credit: @rpmemes-galore
HAMLET: losing oneself to revenge, the ghosts of the past, the sting of betrayal, a poisoned blade, drowning in sorrows, confusing belief with reality, rash actions in anger
MACBETH: a stain that never washes out, doomed by prophecy, inescapable fate, a desperate grasp for power, unchecked ambition, violence for cruelty's sake, morals wavering, a cackling laugh
ROMEO AND JULIET: youthful impulsiveness, long grudges, doomed and fleeting love, drops of poison on the tongue, the thrill of new love, following another even to death, a long feud ended, loud declarations of devotion, a final kiss
OTHELLO: burning jealousy, seeds of distrust sown, faithfulness, lies whispered in ears, secrecy protected through death, the innocent disbelieved, union torn apart by deception, a dropped handkerchief
KING LEAR: empty flattery, banished in disgrace, an inflated ego, an unwarranted falling from grace, honesty punished, siblings pitted against each other, tearful repentance in the final moment, letters carefully penned
Speaking of the Devil—or more so, thinking of him—the Colonel appeared with swinging doors, like a shadow bursting out of an abandoned cathedral. Ivushkin quickly reclaimed order within the whispering and muttering men, shouting his commands while he walked along the tight line of cadets, his shout coming low and soft, nothing close to a traditional yell of a military leader. The men understood the command "stand at attention" without him raising his voice. Nikolay decided to stand along with his men instead of coming to the Colonel’s side. Specifically, he stood in front of his crew; despite them all being in a horseshoe formation, his three-man crew, which included his retired loader from their T-62, stood close together. When the Colonel stood in his truest form, arms folded behind his back, he could hear footsteps shuffle behind him. Slightly turning his head to look over his shoulder, he could notice the lanky soldier scoot a few inches behind him than where he stood previously, slim eyes—similar to his own—now wide with trepidation. Ivushkin could scold the boy on proper form, but he chose to shield the boy as he desired. Ivan, often called “Vanya” by his crewmates, was the youngest member of the crew. It took a great deal of mental training for Ivushkin to help him develop into the man he is today. Even so, there are still some things that make him feel uneasy. Evidently, the German Colonel seemed to be one of those things. The Junior Lieutenant, however, could not have been prepared for the official order the Colonel decided to give them. It almost made him unclench his jaw and stare in consternation. Instead, he gritted his teeth and bowed his head to the side, knowing the pair of cadet eyes were all turning to him for explanation, an explanation which he couldn’t give them, for even he didn’t know what was going on. Ivushkin listened on, realizing that Jäger was looking among his men for this “man that disobeyed the order”! Nikolay almost shouted for the meaning of the matter, but retained himself. He looked among his men, turning his head both ways, being met only with perplexed looks. It took some nerve for the Colonel to accuse his own men on their first day on base. He then turned to the one who he could assume would be up to no good, his retired loader, and even he looked up at Nikolay with bewilderment in his expression, shrugging lightly. Ivushkin scoffed and silenced the mutters among the groups with a waved hand, while his legs came to approach the Colonel with little apprehension, as if the energy around the Colonel was optional to feel. Before he even reached fully to the spot Jäger occupied like some guard, he called out. “Before changing the plans, mind telling me beforehand?” Nikolay stepped in front of the Colonel, ignoring the two inches the man had on him. He had dealt with men whose character was greater than their height before. Now, more quietly, he continued. “What’s the matter, Colonel? If I knew you had different plans, I wouldn’t pull out all of my men.” He didn’t sound upset or fiery; instead, he maintained a diplomatic tone that was almost icy in nature. One could say he gained it from a certain translator, who was witnessing the event with solicitousness.
Jäger kept his steely gaze fixed on his despite having gotten compliance. Though it felt twinged with something more than just fear. A scent Jäger regularly picked up on when bringing lesser ranks under his thumb. Subordination almost thick with it, whether for him as a man or merely for the shoulder boards he had earned. They'd bow aside for him more or less. In truth he didn't care how or why so long as his orders were carried out.
But the Junior Lieutenant? His obedience felt of something else entirely. Something Jäger couldn't gleam from his face, or even from the looks back at his allies behind him, as they seemed just that. Perhaps a wish to confirm this was the situation they were in, nothing more. "Good." The German delivered. His voice sounding subtly unsure, his want to decipher this behavior in it, yet confident as if it couldn't fail to come out with that.
"I will return in an hour to check-in on progress." There was nothing left to say. Leaving it all in the air for Ivushkin to sort out. Tasks to be divided up, dolled out, and tanks to once again be moved so they could take advantage of the on site garages. He started to leave, letting his gaze still stay on him till the turn away draw them off. only reaching a few steps away before stopping abruptly. Air still and clean from chatter, Jäger turned around to face him once more. "Before I go."
Prefacing it only about as carefully as tracks greeted the dirt. An innocent enough question, to him, Yet it would tell so much. As young soldiers were easy enough to set straight, it was their masters that he was more worried about. They were an important hinge to success in this program and failure and sorting it out now was imperative. So he made the two step trip back to save their translation officer the assumption of this before all and not just for one. The test administered. "Who was that soldier who hid himself behind you as I arrived?"
What does Klaus have to say about being 3cm smaller than Alexander?
”Don't let it go to your head.” Saying this as he gives Alexander a sly smile. Quickly patting him on his arms with the paperwork he was found holding.
//finally got his doc done (ignore how short it is. I am asked to write about my muse and suddenly forget everything about him) Also the Spotify is up
Doc Spotify
Speaking of the Devil—or more so, thinking of him—the Colonel appeared with swinging doors, like a shadow bursting out of an abandoned cathedral. Ivushkin quickly reclaimed order within the whispering and muttering men, shouting his commands while he walked along the tight line of cadets, his shout coming low and soft, nothing close to a traditional yell of a military leader. The men understood the command "stand at attention" without him raising his voice. Nikolay decided to stand along with his men instead of coming to the Colonel’s side. Specifically, he stood in front of his crew; despite them all being in a horseshoe formation, his three-man crew, which included his retired loader from their T-62, stood close together. When the Colonel stood in his truest form, arms folded behind his back, he could hear footsteps shuffle behind him. Slightly turning his head to look over his shoulder, he could notice the lanky soldier scoot a few inches behind him than where he stood previously, slim eyes—similar to his own—now wide with trepidation. Ivushkin could scold the boy on proper form, but he chose to shield the boy as he desired. Ivan, often called “Vanya” by his crewmates, was the youngest member of the crew. It took a great deal of mental training for Ivushkin to help him develop into the man he is today. Even so, there are still some things that make him feel uneasy. Evidently, the German Colonel seemed to be one of those things. The Junior Lieutenant, however, could not have been prepared for the official order the Colonel decided to give them. It almost made him unclench his jaw and stare in consternation. Instead, he gritted his teeth and bowed his head to the side, knowing the pair of cadet eyes were all turning to him for explanation, an explanation which he couldn’t give them, for even he didn’t know what was going on. Ivushkin listened on, realizing that Jäger was looking among his men for this “man that disobeyed the order”! Nikolay almost shouted for the meaning of the matter, but retained himself. He looked among his men, turning his head both ways, being met only with perplexed looks. It took some nerve for the Colonel to accuse his own men on their first day on base. He then turned to the one who he could assume would be up to no good, his retired loader, and even he looked up at Nikolay with bewilderment in his expression, shrugging lightly. Ivushkin scoffed and silenced the mutters among the groups with a waved hand, while his legs came to approach the Colonel with little apprehension, as if the energy around the Colonel was optional to feel. Before he even reached fully to the spot Jäger occupied like some guard, he called out. “Before changing the plans, mind telling me beforehand?” Nikolay stepped in front of the Colonel, ignoring the two inches the man had on him. He had dealt with men whose character was greater than their height before. Now, more quietly, he continued. “What’s the matter, Colonel? If I knew you had different plans, I wouldn’t pull out all of my men.” He didn’t sound upset or fiery; instead, he maintained a diplomatic tone that was almost icy in nature. One could say he gained it from a certain translator, who was witnessing the event with solicitousness.
Jager's audit of the Russians went interrupted, but not unfruitful. His tertiary scan of them yielded the final flecks of snow still grasping to fabric, and a cadet ever so slowly and slyly scooting himself behind his Lieutenant once the German let his eyes linger on him. Things he took in vivid technicolor to his memory. The same man who then took his attention by making his way to meet him in the center if the ring they had created. Although he had no answers for Ivushkin. only outcomes. And he'd receive his colleague making as much abundantly apparent.
His voice still bolstered, Jager addressed him. "Perhaps you can tell me, Junior Lieutenant." Letting his chin fall so their eyes met as Ivushkin stepped up to him. An interrogative head tilt to take the place of vocal volume. Their conversation now lowered for the sake of some privacy. "You're men are exactly who I wish to see." Yet so dug into his assertion that his own cadets had learned to behave better. Being privy to and having their own first hand experience in all manner of his discipline. He knew they were innocent, and that it was no coincidence that with their guest's arrival to East Germany that him also becoming the butt of a joke were tied.
The Colonel, in full unblinking accusation, though not for Ivushkin himself, rather for who he inferred Ivushkin would know who did let his eyes bore a hole into him. This little behavior making him look, unreal. letting it ride, effortlessly, the entirety of his continuance. "I assure you, if I could have accounted for such a development I would have informed you. However, it is hard to foresee someone filling my boots with snow." Still scouring for a quick flick of his eyes to his side, or a huff of exasperation. anything to give Jager a hint of him knowing or even having an inkling of who could've done it. Afterall, were the Russian's not given a warm enough welcome? Had they been slighted so quickly after arriving? That too seemed untrue to Jager and the more likely explaination as to why it happened laid to him within utter disrespect.
Then his head realigned. Straight on with Ivushkin as something in his gut prompted a detour from those who stood around them to who stood before him. To pay attention to him. Something about how he didn't falter in skewing Jager's attention away. Perhaps it was a test, a cruel rhetorical as nothing this junior officer could say would even begin to make Jager retract is decision. Since his upset seemed to be deeper seated than just being told what he thought was happening this morning simply wasn't anymore. So he proposed more, to him directly. "Do you have a problem with this Junior Lieutenant?"
80’s Verse Aesthetic
