#Hetalia Russia ambassador

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Russia has a lot of May holidays close together. Labour Day on 1st, Victory Day on 9th, and this year Orthodox Easter fell on May 2nd too! So our government has made an... interesting decision to make this entire week + a bit extra a holiday.

So, Happy Russian Holiday Mega-Cluster, everyone!

[drev-the-ambassador]

EDIT: I don’t know if it’s just me, but the pictures in this post didn’t seem to be working properly on the mobile app at first. If the pictures are all over the place and don’t seem to be getting back to normal, you might have better luck trying the web page version!

So, in case no one noticed, I haven’t made a post in a looong time. That is due to a combination of a crappy computer, lack of time and also a bit of laziness. Originally I wanted to make this post the first post on the blog, but that didn’t end up happening. While trying to answer one sports-related ask I, seeing as the post was taking forever since I had to do a lot of research and on top of that, I had to write in proper sentences, I decided it would probably be for the best to make a quick post, a list perhaps, of some basic things about Finland. So I did. It’s this post. The reason it has taken me so long to get this done is that originally I also had a history portion, but it ended up making the post too long. I then decided it would be better to make that into its own post, so I settled on making a condensed version on this one. 

Turns out, condensing 800 years of history into one post and keeping it at a reasonable length is not such an easy task. Huh, who would’ve thought? That means that you’ll be getting THREE separate posts about general Finnish history! Awesome right?

Anyway, this is not that post. This is just some basic stuff, and pictures. So, without further ado:

Some basic things about Finland

Name of the country: Suomen tasavalta (the Republic of Finland)

Location: Fennoscandia (not Scandinavia!!), Northern Europe

Edit made by me (as you can see from the top notch quality), but the map is from here Neighboring countries: Norway to the north, Sweden to the west, Estonia to the south on the other side of the Gulf of Finland, Russia to the east.

Official languages: Finnish and Swedish (technically Finland Swedish) Minority languages (mentioned in the law): Karelian, Northern Sami, Skolt Sami, Inari Sami, Finnish Romani, Finnish Sign Language and Finland Swedish Sign Language.

Languages with the most speakers: 1st: Finnish (4 865 628 people/88,7% of total population[as of 2015]) 2nd: Swedish (290 161/5,3%[2015]) 3rd: Russian (~75 000[as of March of 2017, same with the ones below]) 4th: Estonian (~49 500) 5th: Arabic (~21 700) 6th: Somali (~19 000) 7th: English (~18 500)

President: Sauli Niinistö, 12th president of Finland. in 2018 there’ll be a new presidential election, but he’s running for president again, and there’s quite a good chance he’ll get elected again.

Here’s our current president with his wife Jenni Haukio and their dog, Lennu, the first dog of Finland.

Currency: Euro since 2002. From 1860 until 2002 Finland had it’s own currency, markka. 1 euro is approximately 6 markkas.

Population: 5 503 297 as of 2016

Population density: 16/km2

Size: Area: 338 424 km2 Length: ~ 1 200 km Width: ~ 550 km

Number of lakes: 187 888

Number of islands: 179 584

Religion: 72,0 % Evangelical Lutheran 1,1 % Orthodox Christian 1,6 % other 25,3 % none

Important holidays: Vappu 1.5. Juhannus 20.6.-26.6. on a Saturday Itsenäisyyspäivä (Independence day) 6.12. Joulu (Christmas) 24.12. is celebrated more than 25.12. Uudenvuodenaatto (New Year’s eve) 31.12.

Other holidays: Laskiainen (Shrove Tuesday) Seven weeks before Easter. Pyhäinmiestenpäivä (All Saints’ Day) 31.10.-6.11. on a Saturday, NOT Halloween, we don’t celebrate it here. Pääsiäinen (Easter) The same time it’s celebrated elsewhere. Ruotsalaisuuden päivä (Finnish Swedish Heritage Day) 6.11. Äitienpäivä (Mother’s day) Celebrated on the second Sunday of May. Isänpäivä (Father’s day) Celebrated on the second Sunday of November, exactly half a year after Mother’s day.

Can you drink the tap water: Yes.

Number of saunas: 2 million - 3,2 million

Number of dogs: around 500 000 pure breeds, mixed breeds not included

Finland’s national

...anthem: Maamme, Vårt land in Swedish, Our Land in English. Composed by Fredrik Pacius, words written (first in Swedish) by J. L. Runeberg. It was performed for the first time in 1846. The Finnish translation is what made it become the national anthem, even though for a long time Finnish wasn’t even an official language in Finland. 

...flag: A blue Nordic cross on a white background, the State flag also has the Coat of Arms of Finland in the middle. 

...Coat of Arms: A golden crowned lion on a red background, standing on it’s hind legs, with it’s other armored front leg holding a sword, trampling a saber, with nine silver roses just kinda floating around. See for yourself.

...day: 6th of December, our Independence day.

...epic: Kalevala, published in 1835, made by Elias Lönnrot, who collected old poems and songs from Karjala (Karelia) and compiled them into one book. Kalevala has inspired many artists in Finland and abroad, one example being J.R.R. Tolkien. Kalevala has been translated into 61 languages, so you can probably give it a read if you’d like. (source)

...instrument: Kantele. (source)

...personification: Suomi-neito, the Finnish Maiden. Yes, we have an official personification as well.

...animal: A bear. It was a holy animal in Finnish paganism, so much so that it was forbidden to say its name out loud. To this day, we don’t know what the real, original word for bear in Finnish was. It had a lot of names that were used instead. The word we use today, karhu, comes from the word “karhea”, which means like, rough? It’s because of the texture of the bear’s fur. (source)

...fish: Ahven, European perch. Beautiful, isn’t it? (source)

....bird: Laulujoutsen, which is by the way a much prettier name than whooper swan (sorry English). Laulujoutsen literally means “song swan”. (source)

...bug: Leppäkerttu, a ladybug. Funny thing, you know how it’s called like a God’s cow in some languages? Well, the Finnish name, leppäkerttu OR the more specific species seitsenpistepirkko, are literally translated as “alder-Kerttu” and “seven-dotted- Pirkko”, Kerttu and Pirkko being Finnish names for women. What a weird name. ALSO, one of the gods pagan Finns worshipped was called Ukko, and it is commonly believed that he was the highest of all the Finnish gods. A ladybug, back then, was called ukonlehmä. You know what that means? Ukko’s cow. (source)

...horse: Suomenhevonen, Finnhorse, literally “horse of Finland”. It was, for a long time, the only horse breed in Finland. It’s apparently considered one of the fastest and most versatile coldblood breeds in the world. During WWII, the Finnish army did not have many cars, so suomenhevoset were very important back then. 7 200 horses died or went missing during the Winter War, and the horses that did survive had their minds as broken as the men they’d stayed beside. There are quite a few memorials for the horses, after all, they helped to carry the wounded when no other vehicle could. We owe them a lot. 

This is one of those memorials. It’s called Suomenhevonen - Sotahevonen, which means basically “the Finnhorse - a war horse”. (no relation to the movie)

....dog: Suomenpystykorva, the Finnish Spitz, yes, we did need our national dog, who doesn’t??? Written mentions of a barking hunting dogs with red fur have survived from the end of the 19th century, but dogs very closely resembling the breed have been used for hunting in Finland for hundreds of years. (source)

...tree: Rauduskoivu, silver birch. (picture by me)

...flower: Kielo, Lily of the valley. (source)

...stone: Graniitti, granite. It’s the most common type of stone in Finland, and it’s been mined here even to be exported. For example, the pillars of Saint Isaac’s Cathedral in St. Petersburg were made of Finnish granite. And, of course, so was Finland’s Parliament House in Helsinki. There’s even a type of granite that has a Finnish name, rapakivi granite.

...poet: Johan Ludwig Runeberg (1804-1877). The words of our national anthem were made by him, and he wrote a collection of poems, called Vänrikki Stoolin tarinat, The Tales of Ensign Stål, an epic poem about the Finnish War of 1808-1809, a work of literature second to only Kalevala. He was already considered a great man (suurmies) before his death, and Runebergin päivä, Runeberg day, is celebrated on February 5th. 

...composer: Jean Sibelius (1865-1957). Composed such little pieces as Finlandia (which was once suggested as the anthem for the whole world), the Karelia Suite, his seven symphonies, Valse triste, and many more. Finlandia is perhaps the best known out of all of them, especially the Finlandia Hymn. It is very beautiful, I agree. Here’s a link, go have a listen if you have time.

...author: Aleksis Kivi. He was the first professional Finnish author. He is the best known for his novel Seitsemän veljestä, Seven Brothers. He also wrote plays and poetry. Oh, yes, I should probably mention that this first professional Finnish author lived in 1834-1872. No, we haven’t been writing books here for very long. There are no photos of him, but there’s this drawing by Albert Edelfelt.

...saint: Piispa Henrik, or Henry, Bishop of Finland. He was murdered here in 1156. Maybe. He might’ve not existed, no one knows for sure.

...satu: See, the word “satu” technically means a fairytale, but some stories that are called a satu in Finnish don’t actually have that much magic stuff, you know? For example this one, that I swear I saw being called Finland’s national “fairytale”, but if it’s not, that’s fine, because it’s still a very well known tale in Finland. It’s called Koivu ja tähti, which means the Birch and the Star. It’s about two children, who were taken from their parents and from their home to Russia during the Russian occupation of Finland called “Isoviha”, or the Great Hatred. A lot of people died, okay, I’ll talk about it later in the history post. Anyway, the siblings, a boy and a girl, who want to return back home to Finland. However, the only thing they remember of their home is the big birch tree growing outside, and how a star always shone through the branches in the evening. They start making their way home, with only two birds leading their way, and after a year find their home and their parents, still alive. However, their two sisters had died while they were away, so the children realize that the two birds were actually the souls of their siblings leading them back home. This was based on the story of the author’s, Sakari Topelius’, great-grandfather Kristoffer Toppelius’ life, as he was taken to Russia as a slave, but after escaping and following the sunset he eventually found his way to Southern Finland. 

But yeah, that’s about it. In our brand new series (that I came up with while making this post), “Some basic stuff about Finland”, the next part will be about the years Finland was a part of Sweden! Material for tons of fanfics y’all

I hope you enjoyed the read! Sorry that it took so long!

[imakemywings]

A December Thaw

Fandom: Hetalia

Pairing: f!America/Russia

Summary: As the end of the Soviet Union closes in, Ambassador Braginsky is recalled to Russia, and it begins to sink in that his long-standing rivalry with Ambassador Jones is finally over. It is not so pleasing a thought as he might have expected. 

AO3 | Pillowfort

______________________________________________________

Leningrad, November 1991

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              Ambassador Jones had remarked on…more occasions than Ivan could or cared to recall that his brain had rotted away from too much vodka, but this was the first time he had thought perhaps she was right.

              Looking for you, dummy!

              How long had he been standing in this spot, replaying those handful of sentences in his mind?

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              Looking for you, dummy!

              Perhaps it was the surreal few weeks that had proceeded the conversation. Maybe that was why he felt like he was wading through a river of molasses trying to process it. Playing mind games was just part of what the Americans and the Soviets did—it their way of waging war without actually firing a gun at each other. And Ivan—well, no one had ever accused him of having finesse, but his opponents had a tendency to buckle and acquiesce under his paper smile and cutting gaze. Not Jones, though. Defiant to the last, he had expected her to be toasting the fall of the Soviet Union in Berlin with the rest of the American ambassadorial staff (and after the knock-out, throw-down fight they had had in ’89 when the wall came down, he had not been keen to stick around and hear her thoughts on the present situation).

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              What had he said after that? The meaningless pleasantries that had come only minutes earlier had evanesced from his mind and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember exactly how they had said goodbye, only that it had come so quickly after he had first seen her, so quickly he had not yet overcome his shock at seeing her in Russia.

              Looking for you, dummy!

              She would be going back to Berlin, then. And he…he was probably going to lose his job, and if he was lucky, Russia would still have a government by the end of the year. This had been coming since the wall fell—hadn’t they all known that?

              There wasn’t room in Ivan’s life for what he wanted. There was only room for what the Party needed. He had done his job, to a T, to the end. But now…the government was gone to pieces. The union was crumbling like a sandcastle at the end of a hot summer day as the tide washed in around it. He was no longer needed in Berlin, and so he had been called back, to serve whatever position was most necessary—or to be cast off as refuse of a past era.

              And he was probably never going to see Ambassador Jones again.

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              Looking for you!

              “Shit!” The exclamation burst out of him and a woman passing by with a little boy clinging to her hand scowled at him.

              She was right, you are a dummy! Ambassador Jones was supposed to be in Berlin. The American government never would have given her leave to travel to the Soviet Union—or what was left of it—at a time like this! Ivan looked around, but Amelia was, of course, gone—because he had said goodbye, like the socially inept moron that he was, and let her walk away.

              Leningrad was not a small city, and he hadn’t even bothered to ask where she was staying—not that he would count on himself to remember it, since the entire day was a fog, and Ambassador Jones merely the strangest thing to walk out of it so far. Still, she was probably downtown…if she had no ulterior motives for being in the city, she was probably looking to catch the quickest plane back to Germany that she could, before anyone had cause to realize she was gone.

              Ivan was generally not one to make public scenes—it was unbecoming—but that rule had always been applied somewhat less stringently when it came to bickering with the American ambassador, and in this case, there was just no way to make a 6’4” man of Ivan’s breadth running down the street not a scene. Given the way the political scene was, Ivan didn’t think it was unfair to hope everyone was too consumed with their own worries to trouble themselves with what one lone weirdo such as himself was doing, even in a public space.

              Would she really just pop in to Leningrad and fly right back out like that? Surely, she had not come merely to exchange a few sentences of small talk with him and then leave? With all the effort it took to get her over the border?

              Looking for you, dummy!

              Jones’ exuberance meant sometimes people didn’t realize how close to her chest she played her cards. That last night in Berlin, though—at the Waschbär—it wasn’t like they had a habit of getting drinks together (or being seen together in public at all—it just wasn’t the image their countries wanted)—but she had asked and he had thought it was his last chance to put the thumbscrews on her before he lost the clout of the Soviet Union behind him—he hadn’t, though. Usually, the only way to shut Jones up was to put her on a plane (the solution being not the plane itself, but the distance it put between you and her). Not that night—the silences had stretched on, with a few half-heartedly barbed remarks sprinkled in, not even enough to flavor the conversation. The clink of ice against their drinking glasses made more noise than they did.

              At the time, Ivan had too much to think about to spend time musing over why Jones chose that night to kick down the embassy door and suggest they get a beer. Circling the shambling body of the Soviet Union, waiting for her chance to start ripping into the carrion, he supposed. Drooling and cackling like a hyena, baring her teeth to devour; ever-hungry, ever-wanting—how American of her.

              At the end of the night, he had kissed her goodbye with a do svidanya and thought less about conceding that she, in the end, had won, and more about how sorry he was their chess game was over.

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              There was a different look in Amelia’s eyes when she told the unvarnished truth. An American earnestness that she just couldn’t fake, and it had taken him most of his career to start recognizing it.

              Looking for you.

              Did she think they had recalled him just to ship him off to the gulag? Now? Well—he supposed it wasn’t totally out of the question (it was never totally out of the question), but Jones should know better than to fall prey to Red hysteria now (now, when the future of the Party itself seemed to be in a tailspin, although it wasn’t out of place in history for a dying regime to lash out with the violence of a wounded animal)!

              Ivan was out of breath—damn the American for making him run (And was he really this out of shape? Damn her for making him realize that.)—and the impossibility of locating her before she reached the airport was bearing down on his shoulders. He sucked in deep breaths, and urged himself to keep going. At the very least, he thought, he had to put in his best effort. She had come all the way to Leningrad, after all (And he wasn’t that old! Was he…?).

              As he crossed the Neva, he saw a woman on the walkway below, at the icy riverbank, dragging a small beige suitcase behind her, and yes—he recognized the blonde bob peeking out from under that cap!

              “Amelia!” he shouted, and saw her pause in confusion, hearing the phantom of her very American name in a very Russian city. “Amelia!” Then she started to turn, and even from up on the bridge he fancied he could see the furrow of her brow, the befuddled parting of her lips.

“Braginsky?”

“Marry me!” His breath billowed out in a cloud over the bridge railing.

              “What?” she bellowed back, because either she had not heard him, or she was certain she had heard him wrong. Either one was fair. She responded to his Russian with Russian, with that same terrible accent, all Kentucky twang despite years of practice (in large part, he was certain, because she didn’t want to sound like a native Russian speaker).

              “I said—” He cupped his hands around his mouth and leaned over the railing, “let’s get married!”

              “Are you serious?” She was facing him fully now, her head tilted back to look up at him, her lipstick, red as a maraschino cherry, bright against the rest of her face.

              “Yes! What do you say?” His heart was trying to punch through his chest, but he was pretty sure that was just from running through half of Leningrad in a suit and dress shoes. He squinted down at her, as if he could bring her face into better view, and read her expression, but he didn’t have any luck. Fortunately, she made quick work of simplifying the task, when her face broke into that toothy, ear-to-ear grin

              “Hell yeah!” she called back in English. “Let’s do it!” It was no more bewildering than the rest of the week had been. She was heading for the nearest staircase, so Ivan forced his whining legs back into motion and they met at the top of the riverbank, Jones seeming no worse the wear for having dragged her suitcase up the concrete steps.

              “So do you have a ring?” She was holding her hand out, and when he stared at her, she prompted him.

              “Uh…no.”

              “Seriously? You honestly just pulled this out of your ass, didn’t you? Just then, when I was talking to you about Leningrad, you decided to do this.” Ivan looked at the pearly gray clouds scudding across the sky and did not answer. “You could at least lie!” She laughed and Ivan wanted to grab her, and make sure she never got back to Berlin.

              I don’t want you to leave. Why was it so hard to say that?

              “Ivan.” Jones squirmed, and he became aware he had, in fact, grabbed her, and was gripping her upper arms more tightly than most people would have tolerated. Ah, shit—he used to be better about maintaining at least a veneer of professionalism with her, but she had a way of degrading it, year by year, so that he was now hollering marriage proposals at her in the middle of a crowded city.

              “Sorry.” His voice came out sticky and slow, and he let go of her. “Are you leaving Leningrad now?” Did you come all this way just for me?

              “Well, we’ll worry about the ring later,” she said, ignoring his question. “I saw a church back that way…” She gestured up the street.

              “A church? What do we need a church for?” Jones stared incredulously at him.

              “For the wedding? You proposed to me, dummy. Remember? Just now? Did they fry your brain already?”

              “Seriously? You want to get married in a church?”

              “Yeah, duh. Where did you plan on doing it, the local Party headquarters?” Ivan considered she might have a valid point—not about the church, but that the sheer amount of paperwork and bureaucracy they would have to wade through to get a marriage between a Soviet diplomat and an American cleanly on the books would make World War I look like a brief affair. And it was probably going to cost him. “Anyway, you didn’t even get a ring before screaming at me from a bridge, so I don’t think you get to pick the location. Come on.”

              “What, now?”

              “Sure, now! I’m supposed to be in Berlin right now, remember? And I really can’t see my sister flying into Leningrad for this anytime soon.” What had he expected, when he proposed to her? For her to say no? It certainly hadn’t been for her to say yes let’s do it right now! Maybe…maybe he had expected her to say no. To laugh, and make a joke about his drinking, and wave as she headed off to the airport, undeterred on her path back to Germany’s American embassy, and out of his life, as neatly as she had sailed into it. Had he really chased her through Leningrad for that? And what was he supposed to do now that she was standing in front of him, near enough to touch, and he was thinking again about before?

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              Looking for you!

              “You were worried,” he said. “About me. That’s why you came to Leningrad.” It was Jones’ turn to avert her eyes.      

              “I don’t know if you noticed, Braginsky, but your country’s gone to hell in a handbasket the last couple of years. We’re not exactly looking at a stable situation here. Who knows what they’re going to do now?”

              “You were worried about me!” He grabbed her again, more gently this time, and beamed. “You thought something terrible was going to happen to me!”

              “Stop that!” Amelia swatted his hands off. “Berlin will be so boring without the Soviets. You are coming back, aren’t you? The recall isn’t permanent?” Watching the careless shrug of Ivan’s broad shoulders was like watching a small earthquake.

              “What need do we have for a Soviet ambassador to Germany if there is no Soviet Union?”

              “Russia will still need an ambassador, right?” she pointed out. She didn’t even try to suggest that Ukraine might vote to keep the union together. In the past, he might have argued; now he just shrugged again. They had had a similar conversation during the reunification, wondering what would become of them—the ambassadors to West Germany—when there was no more West Germany. Fortunately, they had the upper hand over their East German counterparts, and secured positions as ambassadors to a united Germany. But this…this was different.

              “No one knows what will happen. Or the people that do are not talking to me. Sometimes I think they think I spent too much time in the West. Not Soviet enough.”

              “You? Not Soviet enough? Captain Commie?” Amelia snorted, and jerked her head so that a single blonde curl came loose from the rest and hung against her cheek, flushed pink with the cold air. “If they think that, they’re as stupid as they look.” Ivan said nothing—he never had shared Jones’ optimism about…well, anything—and then into the silence, she looked down the Neva and said, “Anyway, I’ve gotten used to seeing your nose around. Berlin’s going to be different now.”

              “Berlin’s been different for years,” he said.

              “Not like this.” Silence, again. Ivan looked at his watch, and a passing truck squealed its horn at Lada that truly looked like it was being held together with nothing more than prayer.

              “When does your flight leave?”

              “Evening,” she said.

              “We have time to go to the church, then.” She smiled—not the earsplitting grin from before, something more subdued, but not lacking in feeling. Ivan had a tight feeling in his chest, like perhaps he was about to go into heart failure, and he could not recall that Ambassador Jones had ever smiled at him quite like that.

              “I reckon so.” He offered her his hand, but instead of taking his arm, she passed off the handle of her suitcase. “Thanks, Ruskie.” Smirking at the faintly offended look on his face, Amelia strode past, while Ivan briefly—briefly!—considered chucking her valise into the Neva, just to see her reaction.

              When they got in and explained to the priest what they wanted, he squinted at them from over a beard that made Ivan think back to grade school stories about the Mad Monk, and kept on scrutinizing them like he could squeeze some other truth out of them that way. When it became apparent that Ivan was with the Soviet government, he very nearly booked it out the back door, and Amelia’s American accent was doing nothing to soothe him. It took almost forty minutes to convince him they were serious, and they weren’t planning to spring a trap and having him shipped off to a gulag for some concocted offense.

              At last, in an empty church at two in the afternoon, at the feet of a scraggly-haired priest still half-tensed to flee the room, Amelia (F.) Jones and Ivan Braginsky were declared man and wife (after being made to remove their outerwear, perhaps to make the situation feel a little less hasty), and Amelia got in one more jab about the absent ring before they exchanged a gentle, chaste kiss. It was the first one that came with no animosity or taboo or regret, the first one that was sanctioned, and yet, he felt it was as tentative they had ever been with each other, as though they were both still waiting for the other one to break out laughing at how long their joke had lasted.

              When they stepped back out into the daylight, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. Amelia had her suitcase again, but she looked around as if she’d forgotten what she’d been doing before Ivan interrupted the day by marrying her.

              “I guess…I’d better go, then,” she said. “Say, if there’s any chance you can stop by the embassy…” Ivan was already shaking his head.

              “I wouldn’t count on it. I will try to get paperwork started here.” Although what good it would be if the union didn’t exist anymore in a month, he wasn’t sure.

              “Uh-huh.” She shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting the way she always did when she was restless, or thinking too much. “So…see you…later…?” She let go of the suitcase, and opened her arms, and Ivan figured he probably ought to give his wife a hug goodbye. He slid his arms around her waist, and felt her embrace close almost hesitantly around his shoulders. She fit neatly into his grasp, and he tightened his arms, pulling her tight to him and breathing in the smell of her perfume, nose nearly buried in her collar. Amelia hung onto him and he felt her fingers dig into the back of his coat. For a long moment they stood that way, and said nothing, and Ivan’s throat felt tight, because the wedding hadn’t changed anything—Amelia was still leaving, and he was still losing his job, and there was still far too much of a chance they might never see each other again.

              It felt wrong, to let the moment pass without saying anything, but what could he have possibly said that would encompass his feelings? Everything that came to mind felt trite and almost insulting in its inadequacy. Ten years—over ten years he’d seen or heard from or thought of this woman every single goddamned day, and now, just like that—their lives were suddenly barreling down opposite-facing tracks. Hadn’t he read enough literature to know what to say at a time like this? Wasn’t there some line of Eugene Onegin or Anna Karenina that was appropriate?

              “I’ll get the paperwork started back at the embassy for your name change,” she said, and Ivan’s brow furrowed. He drew back enough to look at her face.

              “What?”

              “For your name. You know. Since we’re married. You didn’t think I was going to become Missus Braginskaya, did you?”

              “You think I’m going to take your name?” he asked, lips pursing in affront. “Mr. Jones doesn’t even sound like a real person. Sounds fake.”

              “What do you think people call my dad, dipshit?” She lapsed into English for this insult, apparently not finding a suitable Russian equivalent. Generally, she preferred to insult him in English.

              “I’m not taking your name.” She grinned, and even when Ivan knew she was laughing at him, he couldn’t help letting her get under his skin.

              “I guess we’ll talk about that later too,” she said.

              “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said. The street the church was on was quieter than by the bridge, and Ivan was glad for the relative peace to have their quarrelsome goodbye in. “I am not taking your name.”

              “Well that’s not very communist of you. Aren’t we supposed to share?” Ivan scowled, and Amelia smirked, as smug as ever when she twisted that look out of him.

              “Not very capitalist of you to give me yours for free,” he said.

              “Maybe I’ll charge you then,” she said.

              “Oh, yes? And what are you charging for your name these days?”

              “I’ll settle for a nice ring.”

              “You aren’t going to let that go, are you?” he said, but at the moment she said it, he lost the desire to carry on even a faux argument with her.

              “You bet I’m not. You proposed to me with no ring and no plan. We can’t even decide who’s changing their name. It’s hilarious.” Ivan was touching that loose curl of hair, twisting it gently between his fingers before laying it back against her cheek. “Hey,” she said softly, biting her lower lip, resting her hands against his chest. “Be careful, okay, Vanya?” He couldn’t stop the flush that burst across his face, down to his neck, and the sound of that diminutive on her lips, which he heard more or less exclusively from his sisters. Amelia had never used it before. When she spoke, he could see in her eyes what she had kept from him before, what she had played off with jokes and flippant hand gestures and white-toothed smiles: she was still worried.

              “I will be,” he said, touching her cheek, tracing a line down to the edge of her jaw, and then up to her ear. “And you, too?” She held his gaze, that dark, anxious look a veil across her face, and he leaned in to kiss her. Amelia tilted her chin up. Her breath was warm against his mouth, and tasted like the mints she kept in a tin buried at the bottom of her purse, and Ivan wanted to trap her in Leningrad and make sure she never went back to Germany, or anywhere else; he wanted to drag her under the ice of the Neva with him, where everything would be quiet, and no one would be able to pry them apart.

              “Send me a postcard, huh? Since I’m sure they’ve got all your phone lines tapped.” Ivan gave a short, hollow laugh.

              “Sure, I will send you a honeymoon postcard.”

              “I think it’s traditional for us to send them from the same place to other people, but we’ll make it work.” She could have left by then—for what was she waiting? I don’t want you to leave. Was she desperately trying to think of some way to say this too? Were the words on the tip of her tongue too, no matter how impossible they were? But she’d said it already, hadn’t she?

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              Looking for you!

              “I guess—”

              “Ivan—”

              They both stopped and stared at each other, standing too close to be casual and so much further apart than Ivan wanted to be (How long would it take, to get her back to his hotel room, where they could sit in bed and watch Doctor Zhivago and have something hot to drink and speculate about the future of his country?). When it became clear no one was finishing their original statement, Amelia said something else.

              “Take care of yourself, alright?”

              “And you too,” he said again, a hoarse note in his voice. Amelia punched him in the arm, and smiled. She was good at that—smiling like nothing was wrong. This one didn’t do a good enough job of reaching her eyes though—or else he’d gotten too good at reading her to be fooled.

              “See you in Berlin.” She spoke with such confidence as she grabbed her suitcase handle, as if it was something they were all agreed on, as if it were a certainty. Was that an American thing, or an Amelia thing? He wondered that a lot.

              “See you in Berlin.” Hands clasped behind his back, he watched her head off down the road, and then called, “See you in Berlin, Missus Braginskaya!”

              “Like hell!” she shouted back. “Make sure you get me that postcard, Mister Jones!” Maybe he had hoped he could rile her enough that she would come back, and they could spend a few more minutes bickering, to keep her in Russia just a little while longer, just two minutes more, but she only turned her head to call back to him, not even slowing her step.

              What are you doing in Leningrad?

              “Leaving too soon,” he murmured, standing still until Amelia had gone from his sight. The pain throbbing in his breast was not something to which he was accustomed, and he touched his chest lightly. Was this heartbreak? Was this what authors meant, when they talked about broken hearts and lost loves? “Not lost,” Ivan said aloud. “Just…gone. For a little while.” Why couldn’t he have Amelia’s assurance they would see each other again? He waited a few minutes more, expecting the pain to subside, but it did not. It just went on, and on, and on! Was it to be endless?

              It wasn’t too late to chase her down at the airport, he thought. But to what end? To desperately cling to her coattails and beg her to spare just a few more minutes? To delay their inevitable goodbye just five minutes more? To start an argument just to make her miss her flight and keep her there just a bit longer? How had he walked out of Berlin, convincing himself it was just fine if he never saw her again?

              “I will see her again,” he told himself firmly. “I will.” He would make it happen—for Amelia, the effort was worth it.

Looking for you.

[nyotaliafan-pinkmermaid]

Reasons why i ship SwissGre and i think it is an amazing ship

As you know SwissGre is my top favourite OTP(especially Switzerland x nyo!Greece).Their relationship is excellent and they are very close , actually much closer than Greece and Japan(no hate for Giripan and its fans, I still think it's cute). So in this post i'll explain why I ship them. If you don't like this ship, please don't bash them. I won't accept comments like : "but Greece belongs only with Turkey" or "it is not a valid ship" either.

Okay now let's start.

💎It doesn't romantise any tragic events that happened in the history of both countries. Plus there was no war between them. Needless to say that the Greek diaspora is still active there. Plus there are many Swiss living in Greece.

💎Switzerland would never support Turkey against Greece, not even if money was involved.

💎The Swiss governing model is similar to the one of the democracy in Ancient Athens.

💎Many Swiss helped during the Greek Revolution in 1821 against Turkey. One example was Johann Jakob Meyer, doctor and owner of the first Greek newspaper. He sacraficed his life fighting the Turks in Missolonghi. He was also married to a Greek woman and became Orthodox.

💎Switzerland was one of the first countries to develop diplomatic relations with Greece after the second's independence in 1830.

💎Many Swiss are interested in the history and culture of Ancient Greece. In Eretria a region near Athens the Swiss Archaeological School is still active nowadays.

💎 The first Philhellenic Club of Europe was founded in Bern, Switzerland during the Revolution of 1821.

💎The Swiss banker and diplomat Jean Gabriel Eynard was a great supporter of the Greek Revolution and a benefactor of Greece. He had a close friendship with Ioannis Kapodistrias the first governor of Greece after its independence.

💎Believe it or not the relations between Switzerland and Greece actually began from the antiquity. In Bern, a bronze amphora with a Greek inscription (6th century BC) is discovered. Presence of Greek vessels in Lenzburg (canton of Aargau) is suspected on the spot production by Greek craftsmen, while ancient coins with the head Artemis are discovered in Icino.

💎The Swiss neutrality and the creation of the Swiss cantons are due to of the Greek Ioannis Kapodistrias who was ambassador of Russia during that time. That's why he is honoured as a national hero there and he was also given the title of two cantons citizen: Geneva and Laussane.

💎Greek coins of the 4th century B.C. contacts Switzerland's relation with Greece and the participation of Swiss in Macedonian troops.

💎Switzerland was one of the first nations that supported Greece already from the beginning of the Greek Revolution in 1821 against Turkey and never abandoned them during it.

💎Many tourists that spend their vacation in Greece(mainly during summer) come from Switzerland.

💎There are 48 Swiss companies in Greece that employ about 10,000 people. The two countries have many trade agreements as well.

Closing this post i hope that Hetalia will show something about the excellent historical and diplomatic relationship between these two nations(and l'm saying that, being a fellow Greek myself).

[hetaliatxtpostz]

Canada

Now I'm just going in chronological order. Canada!!! ❤️ Canada is the character that my wife is the most like, so obviously I'm fond of him. He's my third favorite all time Hetalia character-- so, let's get into it!

Personality: Canada has a gentle and kind disposition. He does have a tendency to be sad, and to bear the weight of other people's emotions; however, this does not mean he's not strong or sassy. It's just that he can be so quiet, so subtle, that others miss the way he defends himself. In Canada's ideal world, everyone would express what they felt and work things out for the better, but he isn't so great at this either. It takes a lot for him to admit his own burdens to other people, as he prefers to take on the role of problem solver or comforter. Canada always errs on the side of caution unless he's dealing with himself.

Headcanons: Canada is very adept at wilderness survival and prefers to live off the grid. He is not a morning person and generally drinks a black coffee before speaking to anyone. An extremly aggressive hockey player who spends a lot of time in the penalty box. He also deals with bouts of depression. He's a really big fan of weed.

Ships: My main Canada ship is PruCan: I think that Prussia's serious emotional nature helps balance Canada while his silly personal nature helps him relax. I also ship RusCan because I think they'd make good friends (bitching about other people and having quiet moments of understanding), do crafts together, and relate to living in snowy, freezing environments. I do also ship CanAme (when they're not brothers, even tho I prefer making them brothers) but I think it would work so well the dynamic would almost be boring. And then my last ship for Canada is him and Netherlands. (Whose name, I know, is not Ned, even tho my brain is like Ned-erlands).

Favorite AUs: I mostly make Canada a baker. A hockey player, a lumberjack, an environmental activist (eco-terrorist). I like to make things things that are supposed to be evil (like... A demon) and then he's like... Nah.

Other Relationships: Canada and America are my brotp. I think of Canada as the older brother (as does he, even when they're twins). They have a fun ride or die dynamic punctuated by taunts and threats (you know, like normal siblings). I think Canada has a tense relationship with the emotionally reserved England, who I like to make a father figure of Canada's. (Although they get along find when just friends). France as a father figure generally has a warmer relationship with Canada. (And sometiems I just make them really good friends). Canada appreciates Germany as a force of common sense.

How well do I know actaul Canada?: One I can answer more positively! I know Canada fairly well! I have a good idea about what's going on up there, probably just by proximity. I also used to cross the Ambassador often and wacth the Canada Day show when I lived in Detroit.

Bonus: As a writer of Hetalia fanfiction, I prefer Canada as my narrorator. America, Prussia, and Russia have very unique voices, and that's fun and all, but they get in the way. Canada has a pretty clear (and more objective) view of other characters as a narrorator. And! He doesn't get too involved.

[rusame]

In a Garden of Golden Roses

In a Garden of Golden Roses by EmeraldSage

A weary wounded war hero and his need for a bride meets the youngest son of Russia's newest American ambassador and his need for escape. Toss in two mischievous sisters, two meetings that couldn't have been foretold, and four young homosexual adults in a homophobic world - well, let's see where this goes. I'm sorry that summary sucks. Rated M for safety.

Id: 13175649 - Fandoms: Hetalia: Axis Powers - Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply - M/M/F/F - Rated: Mature - English - In a Rose Garden/Implied/Referenced Homophobia/As researched as I could/19th Century/Period-Typical Homophobia/RusAme/Period Typical Attitudes/this took me forever/Russo-American Relations/But be prepared for errors/Christmas present/winter weather/I'm So Excited/Aristocracy/Alternate Universe - Human - Chapters: 1 - Words: 9095 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 01 Jan 2018 - Relationships: Female Canada/Belarus (Hetalia)/America/Russia (Hetalia) - Characters: Female Canada (Hetalia)/Belarus (Hetalia)/Russia (Hetalia)/America (Hetalia) - Complete

Wowww. Just, wow! The settings amd background story is really well researched, and I love the character's traits and interactions played in this fic! If you love rusame in imperial russian era human AU, you're gonna love this one!

[emeraldsage98]

I’m sorry that summary sucks!

But anyways, I finished it!  It’s only caped at around 9k (holyshit) but it’s done!  So, belated Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, here’s your Holiday present @usagi323!!!  I hope you enjoy it!!!

[scarlet--holmes]

I had a question for a Ukrainian Hetalia ambassador! What do you think would be an appropriate surname for APH Ukraine? The fandom uses "Braginskaya" for her often, but it doesn't seem fitting to give her a Russian surname, especially not the same one as Russia himself.

Thank you for the question! 

That is strange! I do not understand why does the fandom use Braginskaya, when there are so many great Ukrainian options to choose from! I also saw that a lot of people chose Yekaterina (Katyusha), which is a Russian name. 

So today we will try to pick a new name for APH Ukraine that would fit her! 

Let’s start with the name itself. I already mentioned that the most popular name that the fandom gives her is actually Russian. Instead you could use Ukrainian version of the name - Катерина (Kateryna). It sounds good and is widespread in Ukraine. 

Dark Lord Hima Himaruya also suggested a couple of names: Ірина (Iryna), Марія (Mariya or Maria) and Софія (Sofiya/Sofia). I kinda like these options. Especially Iryna and Sofiya. Both names have a Greek origin. Iryna means peace and calmness, while Sofia is the ancient Greek word for wisdom. 

Other common names are Надія (Nadiya), Ганна (Hanna), Олена (Olena), Олександра (Olexandra), Віра (Vira) and Любов (Lyubov). If you want some extremely Ukrainian names, options like Докія (Dokiya), Килина (Kylyna), Зіновія (Zinoviya), Мотря (Motrya) and Соломія (Solomiya) are perfect for you! But my personal favourite is Ольга (Olga), which means saint. It also reminds me of Княгиня Ольга (Olga of Kiev), who was a ruler of Kievan Rus’ and had a big influence on Ukrainian history. I also come across this name quite often, because some roleplayers and fanfic writers use it. 

And now the surname, which is really important for Ukrainians! Hima actually suggested Черненко (Chernenko) as an option. This surname does not sound familiar (maybe it is more widespread in other regions of Ukraine), but it exists and is appropriate, I think. 

A lot of surnames end with -енко/-єнко (-enko/-yenko) or -ук/-юк (-uk/-yuk). It is also quite easy to meet a person, whose surname represents the profession of their ancestors ( e.g. Швець (Shvets’, Shoemaker), Ткач (Tkach, Weaver), Гончар (Honchar, Potter) and many others). Having an animal-related surname (yeah, that’s a thing) is also not a big deal here :D Most surnames do not have male and female forms. However surnames, which are derived from adjectives, do change (Кобилянський - Кобилянська).

Some of the most widespread Ukrainian surnames are Мельник (Melnyk), Шевченко (Shevchenko), Бойко (Boyko), Коваленко (Kovalenko), Бондаренко (Bondarenko), Ткачук (Tkachuk), Марченко (Marchenko), Лисенко (Lysenko). Радченко (Radchenko) would also be perfect (not because of my obsession with Ukrainian literature and Stepan Radchenko, not at all). It is pretty common here. 

As for nyo!version of Ukraine, there are names like Олег (Oleg), Андрій (Andriy), Ігор (Igor), Віктор (Viktor), Святослав (Svyatoslav), Володимир (Volodymyr) and Олександр (Olexandr). 

That’s it for today! I am sorry, that I also added information about the name (I did not want to split them). Still I hope you will be able to find your perfect name and surname for Ukraine! I really like Olga Radchenko. What about you? Which version is your favourite? Send them in my askbox, please. I would be happy to read them! 

[unworthy-stars]

Hey Sia, could you give me a more detailed outlook on Greek-Turkish relations? Not necessarily at a govermental level, more like what the Greeks and the Turks think of eachother and maybe compare it to the relationship portrayed in Hetalia? Is it accurate or is there more to it? Thank you for your time!

Hi Rava! Thank you so much for the question (I was really seeking of an opportunity to talk about the theme).

Unfortunately there is no Ambassador from Turkey (yet) thus I cannot make this a collab, which would be really interesting and I hope it wouldn’t end with a dead corpse.

So let this extra topic be solely about Greek-Turkish relations!

Extra topic: Greek-Turkish relations

In the anime you have a picture of the Greek-Turkish reations being like the following;

(thank you so much elizabeththethird)

Just kidding. Anyways. Starting with the basics, it all started when the Ottoman Empire took over Constantinopole (or Instabul if you prefer it) which was the capital of the Byzantine Empire, which at the time was declining. That happened on 29 May 1453 (the Fall of Constantinopole lasted 53 days!).

Since then Hellenic land was under the Ottoman rule for about 350+ years until 1821 when the Greek Revolution started and ended in 1830 when the Great Powers (Britain, Russia and France) signed the London Protocol which established Greece as an independent and sovereign state (3rd February).

The fact that we were under Turkish rule for such long duration under strict conditions, like being forced to be Muslims, still dissatisfies many Greeks which have rivalry opinion about Turkey.

However the fights with Turks continued up to the 20th Century because of fighting over Crete (who desperately wanted to be a part of Greece since 1821. And of course no one can forget the fights over Greek not-freed land 1830-1910. And the huge mark the Greco-Turkish War (1919–1922) known as the Minor Asia Catastrophe.

All these wars have made people (at least most Greeks) quite hateful towards Turkey. 

Some like to claim this rivalry is innate due to Ancient Greece being at war with the Persian Empire (of which part was Turkey).

Indeed there is still rivalry between us (like the fight over Cyprus or some island in the East part of the country). However many Greeks have Turkish blood in them (and I assume many Turks have Greek as well) due to the great exchange of populations (The Greeks of Minor Asia were forced to return to Greece and the Turks of Greece were forced to go back to Turkey and start a brand new life)

Today many Turkish soapoperas are shown in Greek channels.

This is Suleiman the Magneficent which was aired in ANT1 (source)

This is what we Greeks call “Η Προδοσία” (I Prodosia- The Treason). It was my favourite one. The source is on the image?

And of course NO GREEK MAN CANNOT FORGET THIS REALLY RECENT EVENT

This is from Survivor 2017 when the Turkish producer of the Greek Survivor held a party for both the Turkish and the Greek team to be united. The Turks won (because they are more experienced in the game) however the episode had many exciting occurences.

Όχι δεν βλέπω Survivor (No I do not watch Survivor). This explains how known that episode was.

Anyways.

The point is that everyone tries to be friendly to each other however every time we fail and we will probably be enemies forever.

I hope the answer was satisfying. If you have any more questions you are free to ask!

[stellauxx]

1p!Hetalia countries as songs

America: Star Spangled Banner

Billionaire - Bruno Mars

GDFR - Flo-Rida ft. Sage The Gemini

England: Me And My Broken Heart - Rixton

Classic - MKTO

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

France: Pon De Replay - Rihanna

Lone Digger - Caravan Palace

Get Busy - Sean Paul

China: Eternal Youth - RUDE

Ain't It Fun - Paramore

3005 - Childish Gambino

Russia: Tili Tili Bom

Believe - Dima Bilan

Sucker For Pain - Wiz Khalifa, Lil Wayne and Imagine Dragons w/ Logic and Ty Dolla $ign ft. X Ambassadors

Italy: 7 Years - Lukas Graham

Down - Jay Sean ft. Lil' Wayne

Fireflies - Owl Cities

Germany: The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy

Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

Japan: PONPONPON - Kyary Pamyu Pamyu

Guren No Yumiya - Linked Horizon

Just any anime theme song

Romano: Kill You - Eminem

Without Me - Eminem

I Hate U, I Love U - Gnash ft. Olivia O'Brien

Prussia: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid - The Offspring

Irresistible - Fall Out Boy

Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco

Canada: American Idiot - Green Day (lol)

[ao3feed-spamano]

Héliotrope

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2QVgA4b

by Mars00135

Bored to death with his dead-end job with British Intelligence as a "handler," Arthur spends most of his nights drinking with friends and his days taking care of his younger brother. However, his mundane routine changes when he's assigned to a job outside of the norm for MI5.

    **My take on the spy-assassin genre with some much needed quirkiness and dark humor**

Words: 6637, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Most of them, Original Characters, OC's

Relationships: France/England, Francis Bonnefoy/Arthur Kirkland, Germany/North Italy, Ludwig Beilschmidt/FelicianoVargas, Austria/Hungary, Roderich Edelstein/Elizabeta Hedervary, Spain/South Italy, Antonio Carriedo/Lovino Vargas, Sweden/Finland, Berwald Oxenstierna/Tino Vainamoinen, Past Francis and Jeanne d'Arc

Additional Tags: Modern AU, Assassin-Spy AU, Set in London, Coffee and Late Night Chats, Psychological, Thriller, Action, Gory at times, Character Endangerment, Minor Character Death, Tattoos, Piercings, MI6 Agent Francis Bonnefoy, Spy Francis Bonnefoy, British Intelligence Officer Arthur Kirkland, CIA Agent Alfred Jones, Assassin Natalia Arlovskaya (Belarus), UN Ambassador Yekaterina Arloskaya (Ukraine), Russian Intelligence Officer Ivan Braginsky (Russia), BDSM Dungeon Master Gilbert, Informant Gilbert, UN Ambassador Ludwig, Professional Hockey Player Matthew Williams, artist Feliciano, University Counselor Lovino, MI6 Agent Antonio, Spy Antonio, Chef Kiku, Restaurateur Kiku, Informant Kiku, Assassin Elizabeta, Composer and Conductor Roderich, Assassin Felix Lukasiewicz, UN Ambassador Vash Zwingli, Humanitarian Vash Zwingli, Pediatric Surgeon Erika Zwingli, Assassin Berwald, History Professor Tino, Spy Sadiq Adnan (Turkey), Assassin Gupta Hassan, Bar Owner Carlos Machado (Cuba), Arms Dealer Carlos Machado, MI5 Agent Yao Wang, Double Agents, Organized Crime, Crime Syndicates, International Travel, Bromance, Dark Humor, LOTS of violence, Lots of Psychological Trauma, Serial Killers, Neighbors to Friend to Lovers, Smut, emotional smut, Arthur Kirkland is Peter (Sealand) Kirkland's older brother, Arthur's parents are dead, Francis is Matthew (Canada) Williams' older half-brother, Spy Jeanne d'Arc, French Intelligence Officer Jeanne d'Arc, Ex-Spetnaz Ivan, Interpol Agent Alfred, Interpol Agent Francis, DGSE Agent Francis, Arthur is Alfred's older cousin

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2QVgA4b

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Wow! I’ve been going through your blog and it’s amazing!!!

If you already answered this my apologies,

But I read somewhere that Russian people often have a self deprecating form of humor? How accurate is that? Or would other types of humor be more accurate? What might Russia find funny that other nations in Hetalia might not?

Thank you so much for your kind words!! ; 0 ; and no, I haven’t answered this yet, but Russian humour IS one of my favourite things to rant about!

I would say that, yes, in general it’s prety self-deprecating. From politics...

(Yesterday was so cold that I saw a government official with his hands in his OWN pockets!)

to football...

(Russian footballers have managed to once again bring joy to the fans! This time around the fans were Belgian.)

to cars...

(The release of Lada Kalina (Russian car) has struck a powerful blow against German car industry: Volkswagen’s CEO has died of laughter.)

...there’s plenty to go around!

Within nationality-focused jokes of the “X, Y and Z walk into a bar” variety the Russian character is usually the butt of the joke, too (with an important exception, more below). Our self-stereotype traits include: cocky, prone to drinking, slow on the uptake, unnecessarily antagonistic, lazy, uneducated, prone to crime... I’m probably forgetting something, but that’s ok, I plan to make a few of those jokes into comics soon.

As for things only we’d find funny: jokes about former Soviet Republics and Satellite States! They’ve all got some stereotype attached and are the only ones who get made fun of in Russian jokes almost as much as Russians, which... yeah. >__> Interestingly, Poles, aka the only notable intersection with international humour, are characterized differently: their most notable stereotypical traits in Russian jokes are pride, greediness, and hatred of Russians.

Soviet-era humour has another distinguishing characteristic that might make it difficult to comprehend for outsiders: most jokes with socio/political commentary are Aesopian, told through woodland creatures, cartoon characters etc.

Some jokes are also told in the form of a poem?.. And that’s their main point?

There’s some wordplay and cultural references that require specific knowledge to be funny ofc, but that’s the same everywhere.

That’s about all I can think of rn, hope this was an acceptable answer!!

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Hello! Have a happy Holiday cluster! It sounds rather fun! How would you be celebrating?

Oh, thank you! :D It was indeed nice to get such a long break (even tho it didn't apply to me lol).

As for celebrating, let me give you a tl;dr of the traditions associated with each of the 3 holidays. (I highlighted the symbols I used in the pic just in case)

Labour Day (1 May)

The holiday started in USA with the workers' strike and rally in 1886, and it still retained some echoes of that event when it got adopted by USSR in 1917.

People would gather in squares and march down the streets with signs and flags (usually red), shouting slogans. Instead of being a protest though, it was retooled into a strictly pro-state holiday celebrating the country's achievements and spring. My grandma said that as schoolkids they were required to prepare hand-made flower branches and participate.

Nowadays it's starting to become politicized again, with several parties and movements using it to bring publicity to their cause. People who aren't interested spend (and had spent) it going on picknics or gathering with friends and family.

Orthodox Easter (2 May)

Usually happening about half a month earlier, but always on Sunday. This holiday used to be banned in USSR since religion was generally looked down upon, but people celebrated it anyway.

Now people are free to observe Lent, go to churches to get their food sprayed with Holy Water, and join Cross Processions, but most just watch the midnight church service on TV, if even that. The biggest symbols of the holiday are the traditional foods: paskha (the quark pyramid in the middle), kulich (the cylindrical breads on the left), and of course the eggs.

The eggs don't come in chocolate variety here, instead real ones are (usually) hard boiled, painted or otherwise decorated, and then eaten. Sometimes between the painting and the eating comes the battle stage: every participant chooses an egg to fight with, and then tries to crack the opponent's egg with thei own.

Victory Day (9 May)

Adopted in 1945, this holiday is supposed to honour those that fought in WWII. Interestingly enough, it wasn't always a state holiday during USSR times, and its prominence, as well as some of its symbols - the Georgian ribbon, for example - are fairly new.

It's accompanied by reruns of war movies during the week it falls on, and on the day itself a big military parade is held in the morning and a big firework show is launched in the evening. People take time to remember their dead relatives and lay flowers (typically red carnations) on their and the Unknown Soldier's graves.

The black-and-orange Georgian ribbon, mentioned above, is actually based on the Order of Saint George from Imperial Russia times, and got revived recently to serve as a symbol for the holiday. Many people decorate themselves or their cars with it around this time.

That didn't turn out very tl;dr ^^; oh well.

Please note that all of these traditions can differ greatly depending on the place, time and people involved. And thank you for the question!

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Sorry for the radio silence, exams and the UEFA championship have eaten all my time! ; ^ ;

Speaking of the latter, here’s a quick epitaph to Russian participation in it in the form of some fresh translated anecdotes from RuNet:

“I say the Russian team lost because of the referee! Everything was going so great for us... Until that guy blew the whistle and started the match.”

“2060. As climate change accelerates, walking on grass has become a coveted recreational activity in Russia, earning itself the quaint old-fashioned name of ‘football’.”

“-Who are you going to support for the rest of the championship? -The teams that I think will lose, of course! -But why? -To practice supporting our team next time!”

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Happy space day, everyone! Have some photos of the Moscow Space Conquerors Monument, built in 1964. Note the titanium plating and the characteristic thiccness of everyone depicted :3

Bonus!

[from-russia-with-mixed-feelings]

Fun fact about Russian language - it has 3 genders: masculine, feminine and neuter. And it just so happens that most country names (especially the European ones) are feminine! In fact, out of the 8 “main characters” of Hetalia the only one with a masculine name is China (Китай)

so when i watched Hetalia with Russian subs i couldn’t stop imagining China as a harem anime protagonist %D