#Nils & Matilda

[combthecombel]

Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow will keep Nils from being cute.

[random-brushstrokes]

Pierre Louis Alexandre "Petterson" (1844-1905)

(Unknown Artist, Georg Hansen, Gunnar Börjeson, Ida von Schulzenheim, Martin Aronson-Liljegral, Matilda Hanström Berendt, Nils Larsson, Ingeborg Westfelt-Eggertz, Karin Bergöö Larsson, Emerik Stenberg, John Simpson, Caleb Althin)

Pierre Louis Alexandre is mainly known as a model at the Art Academy during the latter part of the 19th century. Artists who depicted him include Anders Zorn, Karin Bergöö (Larsson), Johan Krouthén and Oscar Björck. Pierre Louis Alexandre (1844-1905) was born in French Guiana and came to Stockholm in 1863, probably as a stowaway on an American ship with pork in the cargo. Here he made a living as a stevedore worker, but has mainly become known as a model at the Art Academy. In the archive sources, he appears with the swedish surnames Petterson and Alexandersson respectively.

Some characters steal your attention right away. Like the man in the oil painting that hung in Mats Werner's childhood home in Stockholm. The portrait made a strong impression on everyone who came to visit. It was painted in Stockholm in 1879 by Karin Bergöö, later Larsson after her marriage to the famous artist Carl Larsson, and depicts a man of color sitting reclining with his hands clasped over one knee in a mild, warm light. The man radiates both a peaceful calm and a dormant strength. The gaze is fixed on the distance. The image has an enigmatic atmosphere.

Mats Werner eventually inherited the painting from his parents. When he later cleaned out a basement storage room he found a folder with drawings. One of them depicted the same man as in the oil painting. Werner got curious: Who was this man? What was his story? Were there more portraits? Mats Werner began a dedicated detective work that led him to a large number of authorities, consulates, archives, libraries and so on in different countries. The dead ends were many. But the man must have made an impression in 19th century Stockholm? Very true. Werner came across various stories about the man's background and theories about how he ended up here. Eventually, the picture began to clear. The enigmatic man was Pierre Louis Alexandre, born in 1844 in Cayenne, French Guiana. He probably arrived in Stockholm in the mid 1870´s with an American ship. He escaped from the ship and earned his living as a dock worker. As the harbor closed in the wintertime due to heavy ice, he was lucky enough to find a new income as a model at the Academy of Fine Arts between 1878 and 1903. He acknowledged his first model fees "Louis Pettersson”. Alexandre was married twice and lived at several addresses on Södermalm in Stockholm. He died of tuberculosis in April 1905.

There are 43 known portraits of Alexandre by artists such as Karin Bergöö, Anders Zorn, Oskar Björk and Emil Österman. (source)

Read more:

The Artist’s Model: Pierre Louis Alexandre

Searching for Pierre Louis Alexandre

[graciegoeskrazy]

she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings (buckle up): angst, little fluff, language, absent father, dead mom, cancer, children's home, R IS TWELVE, foster care, insomnia, a lot of these things are mentioned but aren't in graphic detail at all. R HAS A NAME IM TRYING SOEMTHING

a/n: I got this request and was lowk kinds unsure but I just started and couldn't stop typing. im nil a lot of that I post is super short but this like literally like 7 thousand words which Ig is pretty standard but whatevs for me its crazy. I might actually hate this I genuinely haven't decided yet. anon depending on what you think im ether sorry or you're welcome lol <3

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the peeling wallpaper, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You feel a mix of grief and numbness, a strange emptiness you can’t quite shake. The scent of mold and old candles is an odd comfort to the starkness and uncomfort of the room around you. You hear the faint sound of Nora’s voice drifting through the thin walls. You don’t move, just keep staring at your hands in your lap, the same position you’ve held for 3 days now, pretending not to hear the voice on the other side of the wall.

“Is this Matthew Healy?” she says, her voice steady.

“Depends. Who’s this?” The voice on the other end is wary, guarded.

“This is Nora from Wess Hill Children’s Home in London. How are you today?”

She could hear shuffling on the other side. “Fine. What’s this about?”

Nora takes a deep breath, glancing at your continuing. “Mr. Healy, on Tuesday we got a call asking for an emergency placement for a girl. Her mother passed away. She’s 12 years old, name is Matilda Moss - does that ring a bell?”

If you were right next to Nora you would have felt the unamusement in his voice. ��‘Fraid not, ma’am.”

Nora’s expression tightens slightly. “Interesting. What I find really interesting is that on her birth certificate, it lists you, Mr. Healy, as her biological father.”

There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nora sighs, her eyes softening as she looks back at your door again. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way, truly. But I have a home that only fits 24 and a long waitlist of children, so I need to know if I need to send this child into foster care or tell her that her father will be coming to see her.”

“W-Wait a minute. How are we even sure it’s my child? There could be thousands of other white blokes in London with the same name. How can I even believe you? How do I know you’re not a scammer or some idiot trying a prank?”

Nora’s voice remains calm, but there’s still an edge. “Does the name Florence Moss mean anything to you, sir? Ring any bells?”

The line went silent.

“I need to know what it’s gonna be, sir. I’m not trying to inconvenience you either way; I just need an answer.”

You hear a long sigh on the other end. “I-I don’t…I don’t know—”

“She was sick, Matthew. Cancer.”

There’s a heavy silence. Then, Nora speaks again, her voice gentle but firm. “Her will clearly states that in the unforeseen circumstance of death, She wanted her daughter to be placed with her father, you.”

Another pause. “What’s her name again?”

“Matilda George Moss-Healy.”

“And she’s 12?”

“12 and 2 months.”

A soft exclamation, almost a whisper. “Wow. I’ll be there at 3.”

It didn’t matter what Nora could do or say or give you to make you feel better, There was nothing that could be done in order to make the past 3 days not feel like a living hell. There was nothing you, yourself, could physically do to make the permanent ache in your heart disappear. The only thing, you thought, that could make this all go away, that could make this nightmare end, was your mother. But she was gone, and there was nothing that could be done. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that in just a few hours, you’ll meet the man you’ve wondered about your entire life.

—-------

If there was one thought that was evidently clear in Matty’s mind, it was that he needed to call George.

His hands trembled slightly as he fumbled for his phone, the sleek device feeling unusually heavy in his grasp. He pressed it to his ear, each ring seeming slower and slower as it rung. He paced the small, cluttered room, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Finally, George’s voice crackled through the line, casual and unbothered. “Sup, dipshit.”

“I just got the strangest call,” Matty said, his voice strong, skipping over the usual pleasantries.

“‘Kay?” George’s tone was wary.

“From a woman working in a children’s home?” Matty continued, his mind still reeling from the conversation.

“What charity they want you to perform now?” George asked, his voice light but curious.

“No, it’s not that.” Matty paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s about Flo? Florence Moss?” Matty’s voice wavered slightly, the name stirring up a flood of memories.

There was a noticeable pause, the air thick with anticipation. “Woah! That’s a name I never thought I’d hear again!” George finally replied, his tone shifting to something lighter, a huge comparison to Matty’s frantic state.

“So that’s a yes?” Matty pressed.

“You kidding? I LOVED Flo. She was like a sister to me! Shame though, innit?” He said, refurrging to the breakup Matty and Florence went through. “Anyways, what about her?” His voice softened.

“She died, George. Couple days ago. Cancer.” Matty’s words were blunt, but they carried a heavy weight.

Another long pause followed, the silence almost deafening. “You doin’ a bit? ‘Cause it’s not funny, mate-”

“It’s not a bit. And she had a child.” Matty’s voice broke slightly, the reality of the situation hitting him.

“What?” George’s shock was palpable, even through the phone.

“Who has my name on the birth certificate?” Matty continued, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Not shittin’ you.”

George was in pure disbelief. “How can you be sure?”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “Um, ‘cause Flo and I were together for like two fucking years and we broke up like 12 years ago and the girl’s age is 12?”

“It’s a GIRL? Oh mate, you’re fucked.” His bluntness would usually make him light, but this time it made him nearly question his entire life.

“Not the sentiment I need right now.” Matty snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“What are you gonna do?” George’s voice was calmer now, but still tinged with concern.

“I-I feel like I have to go get her? Right? Otherwise, she’s off to foster care? I mean, she’s my child. Right? I don’t know. Maybe not.” Matty’s words tumbled out in a rush, his uncertainty evident.

George sighed, a long, weary sound. “I think you’re fucked either way.”

“Oh, thanks sooooo much, Uncle George,”

“No. I mean, if you bring this girl with you, raise her, be a dad, do whatever the fuck, your life is gonna change, right? If you call that woman back, tell her to send her into foster care, although that woman might legally have to tell you ‘Okay. Thank you,’ we both know you would never forget her and maybe even end up regretting that choice.”

Matty stood in silence. He knew his friend was right. No matter what he chose, his life was about to be irrevocably changed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders, pressing down with a relentless force.

—-------

“Hi, um, I’m looking for Nora?” His voice echoed slightly in the wide, institutional hallway.

“Ah, you must be Matthew. Nice to meet you.” Nora’s voice, though warm, had an undertone of weariness, like someone who had spent years navigating the complicated emotions of others. She shifted uneasily. “I informed Matilda of your…arrival today…and she’s not the happiest about it.”

“Meaning?”

“She won’t come out of her room.”

“Oh. Great.” Matty ran a hand through his hair, worry clear on his face.

“Just…keep in mind she’s still mourning.” Nora’s sing-song voice couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation. She led him down a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with children’s drawings and faded motivational posters. The scent of old wood, cleaning supplies, and the faintest hint of sadness hung in the air.

“Tilly! Someone’s here to see you.” Nora’s voice called out cheerfully, a futile attempt to coax you out.

“Matilda! Come on out, darling, it's alright.” She paused, listening for any sound of movement. “You know I have the key right here; I can just open it if I wanted to.” Nora said, voice comedic for the times. “Tilly, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

After a silent few seconds, she took her ring of keys and picked one to unlock your door.

Inside your room, you sat curled up on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The peeling wallpaper, once probably a cheerful pattern, now seemed to close in around you, a suffocating reminder of the world outside your door. The scent of mildew and the faint smell of your mother’s perfume clung to your clothes, creating a strange, bittersweet comfort. Nora’s voice penetrated the cocoon of silence you’d wrapped yourself in.

“Tilly, this is Matthew.” Nora’s voice softened, a hint of sympathy in her words. “He’s here to take you home, my love.”

You visibly winced at the word ‘home.’ Home was a concept that had shattered the day your mother died.

Nora took a step towards your bed, slowly rubbing your back in order to coax you to come out. “Why don’t you sit up, my love?” Nora said gently. You didn’t move.

She sighed. “C’mon, Tills.”

With a heavy sigh, you slowly uncurled yourself and sat up.

Matty felt out of place, a stranger in a place that was the closest thing you had to refuge.

“I’ll just leave you two alone for a moment. I’ll be right outside.” Nora closed the door softly, leaving you and Matty in an awkward silence.

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. The room seemed to shrink around him as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’ve gone through a lot in the past 48 hours,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his own emotions was evident, and he hesitated, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red from crying. The raw pain and vulnerability in your gaze made his heart ache. “You don’t have to take me with you out of…guilt,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to be here now just because you didn’t want to be here before.” The accusation hung in the air, a heavy reminder of his absence in your life.

He winced, the truth of your words cutting deep. “It’s not guilt, Matilda,” he replied, taking another step closer. “I genuinely didn’t know. If I had, things would have been different. I would have been there for you and your mother.” His voice broke slightly, the regret palpable. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here now because I want to be. Because you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His eyes were earnest, the sorrow in them mirroring your own grief. “Why didn’t she tell you?” you asked, the question that had been gnawing at you since you learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the unknown. “Maybe she thought it was for the best. Maybe she was scared. I wish I had the answers, but all I can do now is be here for you.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken questions and the ghosts of what might have been. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about you,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “And now you’re here, and I don’t know what to think.”

He nodded, understanding the turmoil within you. “I can’t change the past, Matilda. But I can promise you this: I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and cared for. I’ve got a house, with a nice room, food, and I think staying there would be better than the rotting twin mattress you’re sitting on in the smallest room I have ever seen that’s probably infested with black mold.”

“Everywhere in London has black mold,” you muttered, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Mine might have less?” He offered a tentative smile. “Come home, Matilda.”

“I don’t have a home. Not anymore.” Your voice was barely a whisper, the pain of loss weighing heavily on your words.

“I’m not saying this has to be forever. If you want to leave and go live with someone else, then that’s fine by me, but if you don’t come with me tonight, they’re gonna put you in foster care with a family who more than likely won’t give a shit about you.” He paused, gauging your reaction. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

You shook your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I don’t want you to go somewhere without knowing that you’ll be safe.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked surprised, almost disbelieving.

You paused once more, “...Okay.”

—-------

Matty let you be for a moment as he told Nora about the news. She was overjoyed and surprised as well. They let you know that Matty would be taking you home. As they talked, your mind wandered, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within you. You glanced around the room, noticing every detail—the worn carpet, the sagging ceiling, the chipped paint on the window sill. Everything felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream you couldn't wake up from.

You tried to grab his attention, your thoughts racing. You almost called out saying ‘Dad’ but stopped yourself just in time, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue. The idea of calling him that seemed too intimate, too close for someone who had been a stranger just hours ago. Your mother had always been careful with her words when you asked about your father. She painted vague pictures of him, always avoiding specifics. Now that he was here, standing just a few feet away, the reality of his presence was overwhelming.

Would ‘Matty’ be awkward? He was indeed your father, but calling him that didn’t feel right either. You had no shared history, no foundation of familiarity. The name felt too casual, too friendly for someone who had suddenly appeared in your life amid the chaos and grief. You felt a pang of frustration, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

As you struggled with your thoughts, you offered a simple “Hey,” to get his attention instead. Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters of this new, uncertain relationship. He turned to you, his expression a mixture of relief and anxiety, mirroring the storm of emotions within you.

He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes searching yours for a connection. "Hey," he replied, his voice warm but cautious. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of an unknown future, bound together by circumstance and the fragile hope that perhaps, in time, you could find your way to each other.

“I’m all ready to go, I think.”

“Awesome. I’ll get your things in the car.” He moved to gather your suitcases, his movements quick and efficient.

Nora hugged you tightly, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m happy for you, Matilda. You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and you’re doing so good.”

“Thank you for your help, Nora.” Your voice was soft, but there was a hint of gratitude in your words.

Her smile deepened as she led you from the desk to the front door. “I hope you know it comes from a good place when I say, I hope I never see you again.” The words made you laugh for the first time in three days, just a little, but it was a victory Nora cherished.

Matty muttered a few words when joining you in the car after bidding farewell to Nora. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him.

“You allergic to dogs? I’ve got one. His name is Mayhem. Weird name for a dog, I know, but it suits him—not that he’ll be a problem or anything. He’s a good boy.” He tried to fill the silence, his voice almost nervous.

“Do you usually not talk this much?” You shrugged, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery.

“Only when my mom dies.” Your words were blunt, a stark reminder of the grief still fresh in your heart.

Oh, so she definitely has my humor. Matty thought to himself, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. The drive was filled with awkward silences and hesitant attempts at conversation, but beneath it all was a shared sense of loss and a fragile hope for something better.

—-------

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the cluttered room. You continue to scroll on your phone as you pull the worn, thin blanket back over your shoulders. A yawn crosses your features. It wasn't your plan to be up at 3 a.m., but insomnia has become a close friend since your mother passed away. It's been three weeks and four days since you moved in with Matty. He made it very clear from the beginning: if you didn’t want to live with him, that was fine. He was in full support of whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe. He was ready and willing to have the conversation with you as soon as possible. Having your mother die of cancer, meeting your father for the first time, burying your mother, adjusting to a new life you had no clue you would be living just a month ago, and so on and so forth took its toll. You started to worry that the waiting game of seeing how long this quiet could last was starting to run out.

The footsteps walking down the steps and into the kitchen pulled you out of your drowset state. It was matty, dress in blue lounge pants and shit, complete with a random flannel that you would bet he just picked up off the floor and threw on before he come downstairs,

"Good morning," he says with a yawn, his voice low but still awake, a stark comparison to your drowsiness.

"It's 3 a.m.," you reply, your voice tinged with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Yeah, it's the morning," he says, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He holds out a steaming mug, the rich aroma of coffee wafting towards you. "Want some?"

"Sure," you say, accepting the mug and wrapping your hands around it, savoring the warmth that seeps into your skin.

You take a sip, the bitter taste jolting you awake. You look anywhere except his direction."You a musician?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat across from you. "You?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head. You watch him, trying to piece together the fragments of your mother’s stories with the reality in front of you.

“Do you know why my mom used to tell me I was named after my father and an ‘old friend.’"

"‘Old friend’?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, my middle name. Matilda came from ‘Matty’,you knew that, but where did my middle name come from?” you continue, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability.

"What's that again?" he asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. Also trying to not secretly swell with love as he was reminded of your similarities.

"George. Matilda George."

"George. Your middle name is George?" He looks at you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Jeez, I know it’s a guy's name but you don’t have to be a dick about it—" you snap, feeling defensive.

"No! No! It’s not that I just…" he trails off, shaking his head. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and walks towards you. "This is George." He shows you a photo, and judging by the state of Matty’s facial hair, it’s a semi recent one. The pair are on what looks like a stage, together. Drum sticks in George’s hand, and a Guitar in your father’s.

"You know him?" you ask, your confusion deepening.

He smirked. "We’ve been best friends since we were 13. Him and your mother were friends since practically birth. He introduced us to each other." He pauses, seeing the confusion etched on your face. "She never mentioned him?"

"She never mentioned you, so," you retort, the bitterness in your voice surprising even you.

You stare into your coffee, the steam rising and swirling in the dim light. You decide to speak up, trying to change the mood hanging in the air. "She also said my father traveled the world a lot, loved his friends, and loved me, but couldn’t take care of me," you say softly, repeating the words your mother had told you countless times. "You travel a lot?"

"Something like that," he replies, his eyes distant as if he's seeing a different time and place.

—-------

Matty didn’t like leaving you for too long, so he kept to working from home as much as possible.​​ Today, he said he needed to help George with something and then he would be back with dinner from your favorite restaurant. He’s done this a few times before and each time, again and again, the urge to play the stunning grand piano situated in the corner of his office grew more. 

You kept away from it. There were even spots or rooms in the house that you kept away from. Even though you and Matty were so much more comfortable, it still felt like there were boundaries, unspoken lines you weren’t sure you could cross. His office was one of those places, a domain you didn’t feel entirely comfortable invading. The grand piano, with its polished ebony surface and ivory keys, seemed like an artifact from another world, a world that you weren’t quite a part of yet.

Today, though, was different. The house was unusually quiet, the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway amplifying the stillness. You wandered through the rooms, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors. You paused by the door to Matty’s office, your hand resting on the doorknob. You glanced around, as if expecting someone to stop you, but the house remained silent.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the room. The grand piano sat in the corner, almost beckoning you. You walked over to it, your fingers grazing the smooth surface. You hesitated for a moment, then gently lifted the lid.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the bench. The familiar scent of polished wood filled your senses, bringing back memories of when you used to play. Your fingers hovered above the keys, and then, almost instinctively, they began to move. The first notes were tentative, but as you continued, they grew more confident, filling the room with music.

You closed your eyes, letting the music take over. The melody was a blend of old memories and new emotions, a testament to the changes in your life. The piano seemed to respond to your touch, the sound resonating deep within you. You lost track of time, immersed in the music, the outside world fading away.

You didn’t notice the front door opening or the soft footsteps approaching the office. Matty stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He had come home earlier than expected, and the sight of you playing the piano was both unexpected and heartwarming. He leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment.

Once the last notes sounded, he spoke, startling you as you took your hands off the keys. “Sounds beautiful,” he said softly.

You jumped slightly, your fingers slipping off the keys. You turned to see him standing there, a gentle smile on his face.

“When did you get home?” you asked, a bit flustered.

“Just now,” he replied casually, stepping into the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

“Long enough to realize you lied to me,” he said, his smile turning into a teasing grin.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You’re a musician! You play piano.”

You paused, thinking, then continued. “Well, you lied to me too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“You never mentioned you were in a band. A really famous one!”

His expression changed. “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “Well, what do you say when you're meeting your 12-year-old daughter for the first time? I don’t know, but I do know it’s definitely not ‘Nice to meet you, I’m famous,’ I’ll tell you that.” You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “How’d you find out?” He asked.

You adjusted your posture and spoke. “I finally told my friends, and we did an internet deep dive in English class.”

He chuckled. “And I wonder why that’s the only class with a B.” He said, leaving the room as he did so.

You followed behind him, the both of you now making your way to the kitchen. “Is that why she said you traveled a lot? Because you were on those tours?” you asked, the pieces starting to fit together.

“I can only guess,” he replied, shrugging. You sat on one of the bar stools, across from where he was unpacking the groceries and starting to prepare dinner.

“Have you ever met Beyoncé?” you asked, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Only in passing,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his focus down.

You sat up in shock. “Really?!” You asked, mouth agape.

“I mean, yeah. It’s hard not to go to the Grammys and not walk past her and Jay-Z’s table.”

“You’ve been to the Grammys?” you asked, amazed.

“Yeah, we were nominated.”

You honestly couldn;t believe it. While spending that time on the internet earlier, a lot of the pieces were starting to come together. It’s just that you didn’t expect your own father - I guess I should start calling him that now - to be this huge ‘star’. “Shut up! Did you win?”

He laughed and looked you in the eyes. “Do you see a shiny gold trophy in our home? Should’ve though.” You shook your head in amazement. “How long have you been playing?” he asked, after a moment.

You became a bit quiet again, not impressed by the fact the conversation was heading this direction. “I don’t know,”

“What was it that Miss Julia said? About being open and honest with each other or something like that-”

“Ten years,” you interrupted, shooting him an unimmpressed look. He just smiled.

“Wow. How the hell did your mother get a two-year-old to stand still?” He asked.

“Well, I was an angel,” you said, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Really? What happened then?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic sigh. “Those dad jokes kicked in real fast, didn’t they?”

The room seemed to grow warmer as the two of you shared this moment. The room grew quieter, but it felt different than before. It felt, comfortable. The kind of comfortable silence you only felt with your mother. Even if it wasn’t exact - even knowing you might not ever feel that exact comfortable silence ever again - this one felt nice. It felt…right.

“You know, you’re really good,” He said.

Your eyes followed back to him after his voice took you out of your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks after deciding to not turn the compliment into something cheeky.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You have a natural talent.”

You just hummed. And he was glad to see you smile a true smile for the first time.

The lines that once seemed so rigid began to blur. The house, with its many rooms and hidden corners, started to feel less like a maze and more like a place where you could both find and create new memories together. Life started to feel hopeful. And even if it was for just that moment, it would be nice while it lasted.

—-------

Matty paced back and forth in his living room, phone clutched tightly in his hand. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the room, but the day had already brought an unsettling sense of dread.

“She’s gone,” Matty said into the phone, his voice trembling with panic.

George’s voice crackled on the other end. “Who’s gone?”

“Matilda.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She’s left,” Matty said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I got an alert from her school that she didn’t show up today. I looked in her room, her duffle bag was gone and some clothes were off their hangers in her closet. I think she ran away.”

“What? Okay, don’t panic. Are you sure?” George’s tone was urgent but tried to stay calm.

“Yes!” Matty’s voice rose, frustration and fear mingling. “I don’t know where she could’ve gone!”

“Okay- it’s okay. Calm down. We’ll find her.” His voice was firm, trying to ground Matty’s spiraling thoughts.

Your father heard Adam’s voice from the back. “How are we supposed to know what we’re looking for? We’ve never met the kid.”

“It’s my face, with my hair but longer, on the face of a pre-teen girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he tried to scramble to find his keys. Just then, his phone rang. “I’m getting another call, hold on.”

He hung up George’s line and answered, hopeful it was an answer to getting you back on the other end.

“Hi, I’m calling from the London Police Department. I’m calling for a Matthew Healy?” a calm voice said.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hello, sir. We’ve got a report for a runaway juvenile by the name of Matilda Moss-Healy,” the officer said, his tone professional and steady.

Matty’s stomach dropped, a cold fear gripping him. “Yes, that’s my daughter. Is she okay?”

The officer’s voice remained calm. “She’s safe. A concerned citizen noticed her alone. She’s here at the station.”

Relief flooded through Matty, making his knees weak. He let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up, immediately calling George back. “She’s at the police station. She’s safe.”

“Thank God,” George muttered. Not that Matty could see it but his face showing visible relief.

“Let’s go get her,” Ross said, already heading for the door, determination in his stride.

Adam leaned into the phone for Matty to hear him. “We’re with you, mate. We’ll come pick you up and then we can head there.”

—-------

There was a group of officers in uniform huddled near the front desk. Matty ran straight for them, his friends not far behind. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Hi, I'm looking for my daughter, Matilda. I got a call saying she was here,” he said, the urgency in his tone barely masking the anxiety coursing through him.

One of the sergeants, a tall man with a stern but kind face, nodded and spoke. “Right this way.” His voice was steady, a professional calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Matty.

As they walked, the sergeant began to explain. “A biker a few miles away noticed a young girl using an ATM and riding the metro alone. Thought it was suspicious for a 12-year-old.” The sergeant's words were clear, but they blurred together in Matty’s mind, his focus elsewhere. He kept nodding, mumbling a simple ‘mhm’ at intervals. His mind raced with thoughts of you—how you must be feeling, what you must be thinking. All he could do was silently hope you were okay. However, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish anyone who would even try to lay a finger on you.

He unconsciously quickened his pace, causing the officer to lengthen his strides to keep up. The hallway seemed endless, the sterile scent of the station mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. Finally, the sergeant’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s right in there. Take all the time you need, or no time at all.”

Matty nodded, his throat tight, and the sergeant walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. Ross, Adam, and George appeared from behind, having finally caught up with their friend. They all stood before a large glass screen, its dark tint revealing it to be a one-way mirror. You couldn’t see them, but they could see you.

“That’s your face alright,” Adam said softly, causing Matty’s lips to twitch into a short, bittersweet smile. His eyes never left the glass, never left you.

He turned around to face his friends, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Just give us a minute, yeah?” The three nodded in understanding, sharing a look of solidarity and concern, and walked back to the front reception desk.

Matty took a deep breath, steeling himself before he entered the room. His heart ached with a mixture of hope and fear. He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes landing on you immediately. You sat there, looking small and lost in the large, sterile room, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

You didn’t notice the metal door creak open. Too lost in your own anxious state of mind. “Matilda,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. As your eyes met his, he felt a wave of emotion crash over him, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

You bolted toward him, your shaky legs propelling you forward as fast as they could. The moment you collided with him, it rocked him back on impact. You clung to him, your small frame trembling as you buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your dirt-streaked hair.

He took in your state, his heart breaking at the sight. Your hair was matted slightly with grime, and you smelled of cigarettes and the harsh streets of London. But despite your disheveled appearance, you were safe. Not a scratch or mark on you. Relief washed over him, mingling with the overwhelming urge to protect you from ever feeling this kind of fear again.

“Tilly-” he began, his voice choking with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his chest.

“It’s okay-” he started to say, but you cut him off again.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Your sobs intensified, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“Tilly, it’s okay, just calm down-” His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“I was just so scared.” Your voice was small, filled with a vulnerability that shattered his heart.

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in a comforting rhythm.

“I won’t do it again! I swear! I just—”

“Matilda. Look at me.” His voice was firm yet gentle, his hands cupping your face as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face but your breathing began to steady under his calming influence.

“Let’s go home, yeah? We’ll talk about it later, just let me take you home.” His voice was soft, filled with a promise of safety and comfort.

You nodded again, a small, broken “okay” escaping your lips. He hugged you tightly once more, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He guided you to the front where the boys were waiting anxiously. Your head remained bowed, avoiding their concerned gazes. He gently sat you on the opposite end of the row of chairs, his touch soft and reassuring. “I’m gonna talk to my friends real quick, alright? They came with me, they wanted to help find you.” Your gaze drifted to the three men on the other side of the room. More specifically, to George, remembering the things Matty had told you about him and your mom and remembering his photo. “I also need to thank the policeman before we leave. I need you to stay here for a minute, can you do that for me?” You nodded silently. He gave you a short smile, and kissed your cheek before standing to find his friends.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, he turned to his friends. You were well prepared to space out again, but not before your eyes drifted to George one more time. His eyes met yours and gave them a smile. You smiled back.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Matty said, his voice low but filled with gratitude. “I’ll get us home, we can catch the tube or grab an Uber or something.”

Ross, ever the practical one, nodded. “No problem, mate. We’re here for you. Just glad she’s okay.”

Adam’s eyes were filled with empathy as he glanced at you, then back to Matty. “Yeah, anything you need. Don’t hesitate to call.”

George, however, wasn’t ready to leave so easily. “Matty, let us at least make sure you guys get home safe. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”

Matty shook his head, though he appreciated the sentiment. “I know, George, but It’s fine. I swear.”

George sighed, his concern evident. “Alright, but if you need anything, call us. Anytime.”

Matty nodded. “I will.”

With that, the three men exchanged solemn glances, their concern for Matty and you clear in their eyes. They began to walk out of the police station, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space.

As they left, Matty turned back to you, his heart aching at the sight of your small frame hunched over, your head still hung low, anxious of what was to happen next. He walked over and sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

[yeeterthek33per]

Ice Cold (Sam Kerr x Reader)

You couldn’t have hated this more if you tried.

Every ticking second, every running, jogging, sprinting step was another towards the end of extra time. Another towards the shootout.

The game was nil all, and you'd hoped your team could only pull itself out of this.

Every cross, every run, every header, every attempt on goal was blocked and cut off at the neck.

You could feel your energy draining quickly and your resolve starting to wane. Every minute was another time your legs were taken out from under you. The ache in your body from hitting the turf too many times to count was starting to set in.

Being a sub, you were supposed to have been on fresh legs, considering you'd been put on for Viney after a nasty head collision, meaning you had to take her spot on the wing.

Thus, sideline tackle after sideline tackle was thrown your way, leaving you to bounce of the turf more times than even your usually stoic girlfriend could bear to watch. She was starting to get antsy, her patience with the game wearing too thin too quickly.

You could tell she was tiring fast as well. The full sixty minutes were starting to set in, and you only grew more concerned with every leaping header she couldn't take.

It all felt like they were aiming to have your heads at this point.

Le Sommer was getting physical with you and your backline, and it was quickly ticking you off considering your sister Clare was battered every time she cleared the ball, too.

In the end, the desparation to avoid penalties from both teams isn't enough, and when the whistle is blown, you have to hold yourself up by leaning on your knees to avoid crumpling to the ground in physical and emotional exhaustion.

Within but mere moments, there's a hand on your back and a familiar pair of brown eyes moving to meet yours, laced with concern.

"You doing alright? You hit your head pretty hard back there."

You nod, waving her off slightly despite the soft wave of nausea you were facing. It wasn't due to you hitting your head, though.

The mounting tension in your shoulders is pressing down into your stomach, and you feel ready to throw up at any point.

You take a moment to breathe, using your girlfriend's hand on your back to ground yourself, letting it calm your racing heart.

"I'm alright. Promise."

She looks sceptical but doesn't question you further as you both move to join the rest of the team. You take a drink as Tony reiterates your positions in the shootout.

"Clare you'll be in next, and then, Y/n, you'll be taking over Courtnee's position in the lineup, but It's unlikely to get that far anyways. You all know how to take these. You've all been prepared for this. I know you've all got this. Let's get out there and remind them why we're the better team."

You all nod, and move closer, hands outreached.

Sam's voice rings out and soothes your soul amongst the tension and rising stress of the situation.

"C'mon girls, we've made it this far, we make a final push, we take it, quick, easy, precise, I'm so proud of all of you, let's do this. Three, two, one!"

"Tillies!"

The ref calls for Sam and Wendie Renard, setting up for which end the penalties would be at and who would go first.

It goes to the Matildas supporters' side, but the french go first. You all move to line up along the quarter line as Mackenzie moves to take her position in goal while the refs explain the rules and order of which everything will go.

0-0

You can barely process the penalties as each is taken. It passes by blurrily.

Save.

Mackenzie palms it away.

0-0

Score.

Caitlin slots it away and brings the crowd to their feet.

1-0

Score.

Diani puts one away, sending Mackenzie in the wrong direction.

1-1

Save.

Durand palms away Steph's attempt.

1-1

Score.

Wendie Renard slots it away easily.

1-2

Score.

Sam puts it in to bring Australia level again. You cheer extra hard when she does.

2-2

Score.

Le sommer takes it, and you almost laugh at the way the crowd boos as she steps up. Their obvious distaste reflected in your own feelings. She had been a literally physical pain in your ass. Unfortunately, she's unbothered by their ministrations and slots it past Mackenzie.

2-3

Score.

3-3

Save.

3-3

Miss.

3-3

Score.

3-4

Score.

4-4

Score.

4-5

Score.

5-5

Score.

5-6

Score.

6-6

Save.

But it has to be taken again, and Mackenzie protests heavily. You swear you can see Sam almost cussing out the ref, and Steph has to calm her.

Save again. Mackenzie comes in clutch, and your heart is in your throat.

6-6

Your sister is up next to take hers. She could put it away for Australia right now. The penalties have gone on long enough.

A miraculous save from Durand puts the dream away, though, and you clap your sister on the back as she jogs back to the line.

Save.

6-6

Becho is up next. Mackenzie takes a steadying breath and you all wait with bated breath.

Mackenzie goes the wrong way, and you're milliseconds from dropping to your knees, but the ball bounces off the post.

6-6

Your breath catches. It's your turn. You have to end this. You have to score this. You can't let it go on longer. You have to put it away.

For your teammates. For your sister.

For the love of your life.

For Australia.

Your heart races with every step you take forward.

6-6.

You take a breath.

6-6.

You've got this.

6-6.

One hit.

6-6.

That's all it takes.

The whistle blows. Your run-up is slowed, but your kick is hard.

You wait with bated breath.

It flies under Durand.

The net ripples.

7-6.

Australia Wins.

It takes but a second before you're tackled by the oncoming charge of your teammates. Screaming, cheering, yelling. All of it echoes in your head and around you as the victory settles into your head.

"You fucking beautiful bitch!"

Ellie's screams in your ear are almost as deafening as the crowd around you. There's another pile on top of you in seconds as the subs run to you as well.

Mackenzie is tackled into another pile beside you, the girls all cheering on her historic performance as well.

You did it.

When they all finally pull off you, Sam's hand is the one to pull you up, arms wrapping around your waist tightly. When she pulls back enough to make eye contact with you, her deep brown eyes swimming with pride and tears, your hands settle on her collarbone, one sliding up to hold her cheek.

You look at her, curious expression in your gaze. She nods, and you don't wait for a second, pulling her back into you, lips meeting hers in an emotional, passionate lock.

The crowd fades as your lips slide against hers, her hands grip you tighter, letting a groan slide from her throat into the kiss as your fingers slide into her hair.

A group of wolf whistles breaks you out of it. You can see your sister, Charlie, Hayley, Ellie, and Caitlin all standing, watching you both, hollering in your direction.

The crowd nearest to you is cheering louder now, all of them whistling and their phones out, snapping pictures.

You'd been far too ready to come out to the world. You'd only waited this long because of the mounting pressure of the World Cup looming over you both, overshadowed again by Sam's calf and the both of you agreed to wait a bit longer.

However, there was a mutual agreement in you both tonight, it seems, and Sam had no fear in kissing you once again, leaving you giggling into her as your hands move back to her shoulders, squeezing comfortingly.

Finally coming up for air, her forehead presses to yours, your breath intermingling.

"There's my girl, I'm so proud of you."

You grin and peck her lips again.

"I should be saying that to you. Coming back like I knew you could, my captain."

Her cheeks come through a little pink, and she hums softly.

"Your captain huh?"

You chuckle.

"Yeah. My captain. My girl."

Your hands caress one final circle into her skin before stepping back.

Before Sam can react to that, you both let out a yelp as a rush of ice cold washes over both of you.

Clare, Charlie, and Kyra run away, cackling, holding now empty bottles as both you and Sam stand drenched.

"Come on, lovebirds, get a room!" Hayley yells out with a cheeky grin.

You glare at the group of them, shaking out your hands, lightly shivering as you look at Sam again.

She nods at the rest of the team now moving to do their victory lap.

"Let's go. Better get moving unless we want another ice bath before we even get to recovery."

You roll your eyes affectionately and nod, walking with her back to the group.

--------------------

The room is littered with shouts of your name from various interviewers as you walk along the marked path.

"Y/n over here!"

"Y/n, we have a few questions!"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at that one.

Instead, you pick the optus sport crew to go to first, spotting Chloe Logarzo, a familiar face on the team.

"Well, first off, Miss L/n, can I just say a big congratulations on scoring the winning goal today. Those penalties were certainly keeping us all on the edge of our seats tonight. What can you say about how you were feeling throughout that montage of absolutely heart-wrenching moments?"

You laugh.

"Thanks, Chlo. Honestly, it was a bit of a heart-in-mouth moment for the penalties, but that's just how it goes. I'm glad to have been able to finalise that. It was certainly something I've wanted to remember forever, and now I can. Watching my teammates score, watching Macca play how she did, it's all been absolutely amazing to witness."

"I have to agree with you, Mackenzie was playing outstanding tonight, four crucial saves to bring you all to the semis, making Australian history here. I can imagine what that might feel like, but I want to hear it from you, care to share?"

"A hundred percent. I'm still in a bit of shock at the moment. It still hasn't quite settled, to be honest. Give me a few days, and it might, though." You chuckle. "I'm definitely feeling very thankful, very lucky to be here, I'm glad in the end we could bring it home and the looks on each and every one of those fans in the crowd was worth it. Hearing them all cheer on in such a crucial moment for us was definitely what we would have hoped to hear but actually having it happen is another step up for us as players."

"Agreed, the crowd has been insane, and getting to watch you guys do this has been an absolute pleasure. Coming onto another topic, if you don't mind us asking that is."

You nod, knowing this would have come, but you trust Chloe more than anything, so you'd rather answer her asking the question than anyone else.

"You and Sam. Everyone got to witness the celebrations. The pile up of players, the hugs, the cheers, the tears, but what we've witnessed, that certainly had the crowd cheering for you yet again. The loving embrace between you and our Matildas captain, Sam Kerr. Anything you want us to know?"

The smile on her face is mischievous, and you give a loving eye roll.

"Yeah, at first, we hadn't wanted to do anything to release that to the public, but we just had this silent agreement on the field. When you make history like that, everything feels so overwhelming, and you want to be able to share that. So Sam and I wanted to share that in the moment. She's been family to me for years, and I love her more than anything, and she lets me know daily that she loves me as well. I just want to give her everything. I'm so proud of her, I don't tell her that enough, in my opinion. Though, don't let her hear that, she'd protest."

Chloe laughs, nodding.

"Certainly. It's great to see you guys thriving, and thank you for talking to us today. It looks like you might have someone else wanting your attention, though."

She nods to your left, Sam is in an interview, but her eyes are locked on your form, and she gestures in your direction as she's talking, and you give her a soft salute, making her chuckle, and you wave to the camera that turns toward you. The interviewer gestures you over but you shake your head.

It was Sam's time. Not yours.

She raises both brows at you, hands on her hips. It's her 'get over here and save me.' Face.

You laugh, but shake your head.

You mouth a 'you'll be fine.' And walk to the next interviewer. You can see her pout for a mere second before turning back to the interviewer to finish out the questions.

After a few questions, surprisingly, you only end up answering one about Sam, and after that, you return to the locker room without much issue.

What you're met with is certainly a sight to behold. Twenty-two other women, half of them shirtless (your girlfriend included), dancing to "Freed from Desire," chugging and spraying champagne left by the stadium staff.

"Macca's on fire!" That makes you chuckle.

With the beat drop and all of them chanting to the song, you slip by and head to your locker, dropping your shirt, wanting to save it from being soaked. You run up to the group, joining the bouncing and singing, a few cheers coming out as they notice you.

Sam spots you, quickly moving to dance beside you.

You give her a wink, taking one of the bottles of champagne off the table and cracking it open. You aim it towards her, hosing her down in her sports bra and shorts.

She shrieks lightly, smacking at the bottle in your hands. When the spray stops, she immediately grabs you, swiping the bottle and wrapping her arms around you, now rubbing the alcohol onto you.

You squeal and try to slip away but she's got a tight hold of you and you just curl up slightly, laughing as she growls playfully.

"Serves you, right, you little shit."

The ring of laughter coming from your lips is like music to Sam's ears, and she pulls you tighter to her, spinning you around in her hold as your teammates bounce around off to the side.

Your hands find their place on her shoulders as hers find your hips, giving them a squeeze.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"You wanna know something?"

"Sure."

As you assume she's about to tell you something, you feel a bucket of water get dumped over you.

"You're ice cold, baby!"

You scream as you get drenched before shaking off and chasing after your girlfriend, who takes off out the door cackling.

The rest of the team can only watch on amused from the doorway as you sprint after their captain.

--------------------

And she's done, and I continue to suffer at the hands of tumblr and its shite draft saving software.

Lol but jk, hope you guys enjoyed.

[aus-wnt]

"Everyone just came out here & gave 100% & we worked our butts off." Matildas skipper Sam Kerr to 10 Football's Niav Owens. Australia wins against Philippines 8-Nil.

[shutup-andletme-go]

JACHARYYYY

what is your opinions on the matildas vs uzbekistan game

hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehheheheeh this is awesome

anyways

(at the time of writing this we're up by 9)

TEN - NIL!!!??

heyman's on fucking fire she's incredible FOUR goals

im like kinda disappointed it's only ten goals tho...... the ferns scored 11 in their final olympic qualifying match ......

anyway much love to everyone who scored good job im sure they were awesome goals

90+5 goal is pretty mad that would've been rough for the uzbekistans

Also can we appreciate that Spain won the first nations league!!!!!!!! bonmati and caldentey <3333 so insanely talented I adore watching them play (come back and play in wellington please Spain I wanna watch you play live again please)

also japan qualified for the olympics too!! Their entire team is excellent their counter attacks are wild CAN WE IMAGINE A SPAIN V JAPAN OLYMPIC FINAL that would be v interesting bc japan ran Spain over 5 nil at their last meeting (the one game I wasn't at *sobbing*)

[mj0702]

the Matilda’s are looking… ummm… rough.

-monk

I honestly just turned in for a second... saw Germany was up 3 - nil... carpenter had hair wrap in her messy bun.. and decided.. dessert time for me

[deserttheavuline]

Introduction post (or whatever it’s called)!

Heyo! I’m Desert (At the time of writing this at least)! >:3

About me:

You can call me:

Desert

Polina

Ethel

Lillie

Lily

Nihilecho

Echo

Nihi

Nil

Jeez I have a lot of names

Aster

Allium

There’s a lot of flower themed names by the way

Foxglove

Marigold

Yeah I’ll sometimes see a word or name and just be like “Ok so that is now a name I will go by”

Snowbell

Aniseed

Mint

The list just keeps going btw

The Void

Saorise

Matilda

Chandelier

Eli

Also a lot of these are just names I’ve given ocs of mine

Ether

Mari

Shurei

Mycelia

Fondant

Glass

Charlie

Astrid

Astro

Epsilon

Alice

Aspen

There’s still more but that’s all I can think of rn

Start of addition 1 :]

Apollo

Apollinariya

Aero

Crow

Raven

Corvid

Sol

Solis

Lux

Sunset

End of addition 1 :)

Age: Hah, as if I’d tell you!

Pronouns: Any/All

Gender: Everything and nothing at the same time

Romantic orientation and sexuality: Aro/Ace

Fandoms I’m in:

OSC (Primarily BFDI)

CCCC (Chonny’s Charming Chaos Compendium)

Hermitcraft and the Life series

Favourite characters from each fandom:

Bfdi:

Favourite in general: Nine

Favourite contestant: Tree

Favourite host: Two

Other favourite that I don’t know how else to include: Pillow

CCCC: Mind

Hermitcraft:

Favourite: Zedaph

Second favourite: Cubfan

Life series: Tango

Fun facts about me:

I really like emoticons and kaomoji :D

My favourite animal is the fox

Cats are second place

I also think fungi are cool but they aren’t animals

My favourite type of mushroom is the bleeding tooth fungus

I think aspen trees are cool

I have too many favourite flowers

I am trying to make an object show

My favourite musical artist is Chonny Jash

I like vocaloid music as well though

My music taste doesn’t fit cleanly into a box

I will ramble on and on about myself if given the chance (sometimes)

I like increasing the length of lists

I live in Australia

I suck at tags

I have ADHD and Autism and probably some other stuff but I don’t have diagnoses for the other stuff so idk

I should be wearing my glasses right now but I’m not and I’m probably not wearing them when you are reading this either

I have multiple different laughs and I do not control which one I do unless I am forcing a laugh

I think we need to bring back the words overmorrow and ereyesterday

My mind will often just go completely blank when I am asked a question

My favourite colour is purple

I can only use the dark blue straw I don’t know why I’m sorry I just can’t use the other ones

I also can only use specific spoons

I am bad at picking favourites for a lot of different things

I love chocolate oranges

And I love these Woolworth’ fairy bread hot cross bun things they are so good

I suck at drawing

I am relatively good at Project Sekai

A lot of headcanons I make for characters can be related to at least one song

A lot of headcanons I make for characters (especially favourite characters of mine) are just me projecting

I have many contradictory headcanons

I don’t know when to end a list

I am decent at singing

No seriously when do I end a list-

I really want shorter hair

I also really want dyed hair

I wrote an entire thing about black holes once just because I wanted to

I think fondant tastes good

I think space is cool

Okay maybe this is when I should end a list

Start of addition 1 :3

I think I kin Mind? but I’m not sure cause I don’t act exactly like I imagine Mind would

Storm and a Spring is one of my comfort songs

My hair can’t decide whether it wants to be straight, wavy, or curly

I like pom poms

End of addition 1 :>

Alright introduction post over, might add more stuff later

[monkeyssalad-blog]

Zarah Leander by Truus, Bob & Jan too! Via Flickr: Dutch or Belgian postcard, no. A.X. 290-89. Glamorous, mysterious diva Zarah Leander (1907-1981) was a Swedish actress and singer, who is now best remembered for her German songs and films from the late 1930s and early 1940s. With her fascinating and deep voice, she sang melancholy and a bit frivolous songs specifically composed for her. Zarah was for a time the best-paid film star of the Third Reich. In her Ufa vehicles, she always played the role of a cool femme fatale, independently minded, beautiful, passionate, self-confident and a bit sad. It gave her the nickname 'the Nazi Garbo', but a recent book claims that she was, in fact, a Soviet spy Zarah Leander was born Sara Stina Hedberg in Karlstad, Sweden, in 1907. Her parents were Anders Lorentz Sebastian Hedberg and Matilda Ulrika Hedberg. Although she studied piano and violin as a small child and sang on stage for the first time at six, Sara initially had no intention of becoming a professional performer. She led an ordinary life for several years. As a teenager, she lived for two years in Riga (1922–1924), where she learned German and worked as a secretary. She married actor Nils Leander in 1926, and they had two children: Boel (1927) and Göran (1929). In 1929, she had her breakthrough when her counter-alt voice was recognised by revue king Ernst Rolf. In his touring cabaret, she sang for the first time 'Vill ni se en stjärna' (Do you want to see a star?) which soon would become her signature tune. She got a record contract with the Odeon company, for which she recorded 80 songs till 1936. One of the songs she recorded in 1930 was Marlene Dietrich's 'Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt' from Der Blauen Engel/The Blue Angel (Josef von Sternberg, 1930). In the early 1930s, Leander played in several shows and performed in three Swedish films, including Dantes Mysterier/Dante's Mysteries (Paul Merzbach, 1930) and Falska Millionären/The False Millionaire (André Berthomieu, Paul Merzbach, 1931). Her persona in those films was already that of the singing, mundane vamp. She had her definitive breakthrough as Hanna Glavari opposite the legendary Swedish film star Gösta Ekman in Franz Lehár's operetta 'Die lustige Witwe' (The Merry Widow) (1931). In 1932 she divorced Nils Leander. She declined American work offers but she opted for an international career on the European continent because of her two school-age children. In 1936 she went to Vienna to star at the Theater an der Wien in the operetta 'Axel an der Himmelstür', composed by Ralph Benatzky and directed by Max Hansen. This parody of Hollywood and Greta Garbo was a huge success. She also got the role of a successful revue star in the Austrian film Premiere (Geza von Bolvary, 1936) with Karl Martell. Then she was offered a three-film contract by the German Universum Film AG (Ufa) studios, as propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels was looking for a new muse of the cinema of the Third Reich. She would earn approximately 200,000 Reichsmark and 53% of her gage would be paid in Swedish Kronor (crowns). Leander said "yes", despite the political situation. Zarah Leander's first film at Ufa was Zu neuen Ufern/To New Shores (1936) directed by Detlef Sierck (later known as Douglas Sirk). After the other two films of her contract, La Habanera/Cheated by the Wind (Detlef Sierck, 1937) with Ferdinand Marian, and Heimat/Home (Carl Froelich, 1938) with Heinrich George, she was so popular that Josef Goebbels, who according to his diaries did not like her, had to continue her contract. On renewal, her salary increased even further, and in 1940 the Ufa offered her a contract for six films, to be produced in the following two years, for a total of 1 million Reichsmark. Zu neuen Ufern had launched songs such as 'Ich steh' im Regen' (Standing in the rain) and 'Yes, Sir', that were sold on record in various languages. These songs earned her more money than her films, even if she was the best-paid German female film star in the early 1940s. Her songs 'Davon geht die Welt nicht runter' (It is not the End of the World) and 'Ich weis, es wird einmal ein Wunder gescheh'n' (I Know One Day a Miracle Will Happen) from her film Die grosse Liebe/The Great Love (Rolf Hansen, 1942) received double entendre in the time they were distributed and struck chords with the Germans. Among her other films in those years were the comedy Der Blaufuchs/The Blue Fox (Viktor Tourjansky, 1938) with Paul Hörbiger, a biopic of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, Es war eine rauschende Ballnacht/It was a Gay Ball Night (Carl Froelich, 1939) with Marika Rökk, Der Weg ins Freie/The Way to Freedom (Rolf Hansen, 1941) with Hans Stüwe, and the crime film Damals/In the Past (Rolf Hansen, 1942) again opposite Hans Stüwe. In her films, Leander often portrayed independent, fatal women, with strong will-power but haunted by destiny. In real life, she was a 'tough cookie' too, as she demanded that she should select her scripts and composers. At a party, Goebbels once asked her ironically: "Zarah... Isn't this a Jewish name?" "Oh, maybe", she answered him, "but what about Josef?" "Hmmm... yes, yes, a good answer", Goebbels had replied, according to IMDb. Zarah Leander never became a party member and refused to take German citizenship, but her films and song lyrics were viewed by some as propaganda for the Nazi cause. After her villa in the fashionable Berlin suburb of Grunewald was bombed during an air raid in 1942 and the increasingly desperate Nazis pressured her to apply for German citizenship, she decided to break her contract with Ufa. In 1943, she secretly left Germany and retreated to Sweden, where she bought a mansion at Lönö, not far from Stockholm. Initially, she was shunned by much of the artistic community and public in Sweden (In 1936 the reactions were completely different when she started to work in Nazi Germany. Most of her Ufa films were very popular in Sweden as in the rest of Europe). In November 1944, Swedish radio decided to no longer play her records. But, as Antje Ascheid describes in her in-depth study 'Hitler's Heroines', Zarah's role was complex: "She regularly supported communal fundraisers and appeared in 'request concerts' - live radio shows in which famous star singers performed songs requested mostly by soldiers on the front - that aired all over the Reich. In addition, Leander was frequently depicted attending social functions at the homes of political leaders, which further linked her public persona to Nazi officials in power." After the war, she was severely questioned, but in 1947 she managed to record her songs again in Switzerland, where she also sang for the radio. Concert tours followed, first in Switzerland, then in 1948-1949 in Germany; and in 1949 she performed in Sweden again. Leander tried her luck once more in the film. Gabriela (Geza von Cziffra, 1950) was the third biggest box office hit of that year in Germany. The following films, Cuba Cubana (Fritz Peter Buch, 1952) with the new and younger idol O. W. Fischer, and Ave Maria (Alfred Braun, 1953) with her old partner Hans Stüwe, were both disappointments. Thus Zarah Leander's film career came to an end, even though she still did four more films till 1966. Her last film was the Italian comedy Come imparai ad amare le donne/Love Parade (Luciano Salce, 1966) with Michèle Mercier, Nadja Tiller, and Anita Ekberg. Leander would continue with musicals and operettas on stage, however, and she also sang her now evergreens in TV shows. She published her memoirs, 'Zarah's minion' (Zarah's Memories), in 1972. In 1975 she played in her last musical, 'Das Lächeln einer Sommernacht' by Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler based on Ingmar Bergman's film Sommernattens leende/Smiles of a Summer Night (1955). In 1979 Zarah Leander officially retired and in 1981 she died of a stroke in Stockholm and was buried on her estate Lönö. She was married three times. After Nils Leander, she was married to journalist Vidar Forsell (1932-1943). Her third husband was pianist Arne Hülphers from 1956 till his death in 1978. In 2003 a bronze statue was raised in Zarah Leander's hometown of Karlstad at the Opera House of Värmland where she began her career. After years of discussions, the town government, at last, accepted this statue on behalf of the first Swedish local Zarah Leander Society. A year later the book 'The Mystery of Olga Chekhova' (2004) by Anthony Beevor was published, in which the author claimed that both Olga Tschechova and Zarah Leander worked for Soviet intelligence during World War II. According to the author she supplied information about Nazi Germany to a Soviet contact during her visits home to Sweden. In Germany, Zarah Leander is still an icon of the gay community, and her persona has been recreated by many drag queens. Performers like Nina Hagen have covered her songs, and director Quentin Tarantino used her song 'Davon geht die Welt nicht runter' (It is not the End of the World) in his war thriller Inglourious Basterds (2009). Sources: Antje Ascheid (Hitler's Heroines), Paul Seiler (Das Zarah-Leander-Archiv), Lennart Haglund (Find A Grave), Wikipedia and IMDb. And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

[pilibdc]

JOMP BPC June 17: Female Author

I may have gotten carried away with the amount of books. However I felt that I should demonstrate that female authors run the gamut of genres and time periods. The authors range from the 970 AD to the present day. Bellow is a list of the books

Pile 1

Darkover Landfall: Marion Zimmer Bradley (I am aware of her personal life and issues)

Deryni Rising: Katherine Kurtz

The Word for World is Forest: Ursula K LeGuin

The Shadow of Murder: Charity Lee Blackstock

Oroonoko: Aphra Behn

Ice: Anna Kavan

Frankenstein: Mary Shelley

Kallicain: Karin Boyle

The Mysteries of Udolpho: Ann Radcliff

The Alexiad: Anna Komnene

The Bloody Chamber: Angela Carter

The Haunting of Hill House: Shirley Jackson

Circe: Madeline Miller

Pile 2

The History if England: Jane Austen

Thyra: Anne R Bailey

The Secret Lives of Married Women: Elissa Ward

Choke Hold: Christina Faust

Around the World in Seventy-Two Days: Nellie Bly

A Woman in Arabia: Gertrude Bell

The Heptameron: Marguerite De Navarre

The Book of Margery Kempe: Margery Kempe

The Wonderful Adventures of Nils Holgerrson: Selma Lagerlof

The Book of the City of Ladies: Christine de Pizan

Revelations if Divine Love: Julian of Norwich

The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon: Sei Shonagon

Mary and Maria: Mary Wollstonecraft / Matilda: Mary Shelley

Selected Writings: Hildegard of Bingen

Pile 3

Murder in the Mews: Helen Reilly

Dragonwyck: Anya Seton

Gate of Ivrel: C.J Cherryh

The Pale Horse: Agatha Christie

Daughters of Earth: Judith Merril

Assassin’s Apprentice: Robin Hobb

The Wayfarer Redemption: Sara Douglass

Seraphim: Michelle Hauf

Kushiel’s Dart: Jacqueline Carey

[akemansimblog]

Emma Westbrook, born Dalgaard, at first saw her marriage as a game. Deep down, she wanted to believe that her loving mother would come back and take her back home. But Matilda wrote to her daughter that she was busy raising her siblings, and discreetly specified how soon Emma would please her with grandchildren. It was easier for Niels - he served all day in the Northern Legion and returned home in the evening. Emma was terribly bored, bored, bored out of her mind. And if reading and spinning brightened her leisure time, the young woman had no one to talk to but her husband. Here, on the edge of Talnor, in a small house, Emma had been slowly but surely swallowed up by the Dalgor clan madness.

I see now what my sister was talking about… - muttered Nils that cold evening, when Emma greeted him with shouts and slaps. He remembered Main and Marit, Leah and Lily. They were all Dalgors and all lost their minds. But he was so counting on his poor wife to take after her father and Aunt Elsa in character!

[evak-elu-nicotino]

Thank you @multifangirlsworld for tagging me !

Rules: You have to choose your 10 favorite songs discovered through Skam and its remakes. It's okay if you can't only choose 10. Create your own playlist💜

1. Wildfire (by SYML) in WTfock, season 3 episode 4 (and again in episode 10 during the OHN scene).

This song makes me feel SO MANY THINGS, it’s really uplifting, and very fitting for their first kiss !! It’s a now headcanon Sobbe song. 

2. For The Last Time (by Dean Lewis) in Druck, season 3 episode 10.

Hooooooly wow I already was on the verge of tears from Matteo and David’s exchange with the “I’m nervous - Me too”, but then this song started playing and I lost it. Made me so emo, couldn’t handle it. It’s a beautiful song for them !

3. Lips on You (by Maroon 5) in SKAM Italia, season 2 episode 8.

Wow, I love Maroon 5, but when this song started playing during Nicotino love scene I just lost it. Beautiful, fits sooo well with the scene ! Perfection !

4. I Love You (by RIOPY) in SKAM France, season 3 episode 2.

Played by Lucas on the piano (!!), this song will always make me feel things !

5. 5 fine frokner (by Gabrielle) in SKAM, season 3 episode 8.

Iconic scene and iconic song by now, with Even singing every line to Isak who’s trying not to laugh.

6. Fading (by Alle Farben & ILIRA) in Druck, season 3 episode 10.

Love this song ! I listen to it like seven billion times a day, makes me so happy ! Also loved this scene so much in the episode, it’s so joyful and carefree.

7. Hurts So Good (by Astrid S) in SKAM, season 4 episode 9 (and bloopers).

Such a goooood soong ! Sana & Yousef singing the lyrics in the bloopers made my heart swell.

8. The Message (by NAS) in SKAM, season 3 episode 2.

Love this scene. Even smoking, eyes SO BLUE, and Isak watching him. And this song fits perfectly !

9. Buon Viaggio (Share The Love) (by Cesare Cremonini) in SKAM Italia, season 3 episode 8.

Ooooh that scene is epic ! First Martino and Niccolò singing the song to each other, and then Luchino, Elia and Giovanni jamming to it, absolutely epic scene ! Loved it !

10. Clean Eyes (by SYML) in Druck, season 3 episode 4.

The bike scene. Love this song soo so much !

Songs I wished I could have included in this :

- Dance Monkey by Tones and I (in WTfock, season 3 episode 10 : the final scene where Robbe and Sander kiss in front of everyone.)

- Magenta Riddim by DJ Snake (in both SKAM Italia, season 2 episode 1, and Druck season 3 episode 3 : in SKAM Italia, the very first song we hear, right after the phonecalls from the LGBTQ+ centre, Fede’s birthday party; in Druck, the party scene where Hans and his friends enter the flat and one of his friends tries to kiss Matteo.)

- Candles by Jon Hopkins (in SKAM Italia, season 2 episode 4 : Nicotino’s first kiss in the pool !)

- Everlasting by Phil Stevens (in SKAM France, season 3 episode 10 : Lucas talks to Lucille about Eliott’s bipolar.)

- Sweet Apocalypse by Lambert (in SKAM France, season 3 episode 1 and 10 :  it’s the first and last song we hear in this season !)

- Tell Me What You See by Matilda Davoli (in SKAM Italia, season  2 episode 5 : the morning after Nicotino’s first kiss in the pool, the “Nel mio letto” scene.)

- Swedish Garden by Brice Davoli (in SKAM France, season 3 episode 7 : the paint scene !!)

- O Helga Natt (by Nils Bech) (OBVI) (in SKAM, season 3 episode 9 : do I even need to give a description, really ?!)

- Self Control by Raf (in SKAM Italia, season 2 episode 3 : Marti kissing Emma while Nico kisses Maddalena and they look at each other.)

- Under Pressure by David Bowie & Queen (in WTfock, season 3 episode 3 : Sander makes croques and Robbe crushes on him.)

This was very fun indeed ! 

[aus-wnt]

Ellie Carpenter says the Matildas will be aiming for a medal in Paris if they can get past Uzbekistan. Despite being heavy favourites after a three-nil win, Australia's vice-captain says it's back to all-square.

[tomfoolparis-malpractice]

Benny Russel’s playlist before he goes to work for the last time. (image description under keep reading!)

[ID: A Spotify Playlist titled "far beyond the stars" with the following songs, You (by Matilda) Go Ahead (by Rilo Kiley), Call (by Joeboy), Them (by Nils Frahm), Call (by Joeboy), Anybody (by Jesse McCartney), You Want (by Sauce K, Izzybelabid), Montumi Nye Me Hwe... or in english: They can't do anything to me (by Wisdom, Koomson, Obaapa Christy), Not Anymore (by LeToya) End ID.]

[wikitopx]

Here are the top 500 German Names!

[toc]

1. Top 500 German Names

Girls Boys

Emma

Emilia

Hannah / Hanna

Mia

Sofia / Sophia

Lina

Mila

Marie

Ella

Lea

Anna

Clara / Klara

Leni

Lena

Frieda / Frida

Luisa / Louisa

Leonie

Emily / Emilie

Mathilda / Matilda

Charlotte

Ida

Johanna

Amelie

Lia / Liah / Lya

Sophie / Sofie

Lilly / Lilli

Lara

Maja / Maya

Nele / Neele

Greta

Laura

Lotta

Sarah / Sara

Juna / Yuna

Nora

Melina

Paula

Elisa

Pia

Marlene

Victoria / Viktoria

Alina

Julia

Elena

Lisa

Mara / Marah

Mira

Helena

Pauline

Tilda

Luna

Isabella

Maria

Antonia

Finja / Finnja

Anni

Eva

Thea

Elina

Romy

Luise / Louise

Isabell / Isabel / Isabelle

Zoe / Zoé

Fiona

Merle

Josephine / Josefine

Hailey

Elli / Elly

Carla / Karla

Paulina

Martha / Marta

Malia

Lucy / Lucie

Mina

Rosalie

Jana

Emely / Emelie

Milena

Valentina

Carlotta / Karlotta

Maila / Mayla

Theresa / Teresa

Katharina

Magdalena

Annika

Nina

Amalia

Elisabeth

Olivia

Jule

Luana

Liya

Lotte

Emmi / Emmy

Amy

Linda

Ronja

Amelia

Melissa

Leila / Leyla

Stella

Jasmin / Yasmin

Annabell / Annabelle

Alma

Miriam

Chiara / Kiara

Aaliyah / Aliya

Freya

Malina

Liana

Anastasia

Lene

Franziska

Liv

Milla

Ylvi / Ylvie

Alicia

Ava

Rosa

Zoey

Marleen / Marlen

Alessia

Elif

Amira

Aurelia

Lucia

Ela

Kira / Kyra

Aria / Arya

Diana

Selina

Elise

Evelyn / Evelin / Eveline

Ariana

Jette

Marla

Alea

Enna

Lynn / Linn

Helene

Livia

Mariella

Alexandra

Carolina / Karolina

Edda

Tessa

Linnea

Sina / Sinah

Vanessa

Aurora

Vivien / Vivienne

Milana

Cataleya

Talia / Thalia

Eliana

Leana

Malea

Mona

Aylin / Eileen / Aileen / Ayleen

Laila / Layla

Liliana

Alice

Jara / Yara

Jonna

Mathea / Matea

Lorena

Alisa

Carolin / Caroline / Karoline

Nela

Kaja / Kaya / Caja

Julie

Melia

Samira

Alissa / Alyssa

Daria

Giulia

Smilla

Amina

Elsa

Heidi

Lana

Valerie

Ayla

Medina

Zeynep

Henriette

Amilia

Leticia / Letizia

Malou

Annelie

Hilda

Noemi

Selma

Aleyna

Elin

Liara

Lenja / Lenya

Bella

Hedi / Hedy

Levke

Nika

Celine

Svea

Veronika

Celina

Ruby

Fenja

Hermine

Ina

Larissa

Tabea

Felicitas

Jolina / Joelina

Marina

Valeria

Azra

Michelle

Rebecca

Nisa

Annalena

Alva

Elea

Melody

Palina

Flora

Maira / Meyra

Mariam / Maryam

Natalie / Nathalie

Nala / Nahla

Alena

Cleo

Eleni

Malin

Alya

Felina

Florentine

Helen

Lou

Naila / Nayla

Nelly / Nelli

Christina

Käthe

Leona

Alia

Marlena

Tamara

Tara

Angelina

Carina / Karina

Dalia

Hedda

Leia / Leya

Meryem

Anne

Holly

Madita

Fabienne

Jella

Mailin / Maylin

Mathilde

Enya

Kate

Lilia

Sena

Joleen

Clea

Liesbeth / Lisbeth

Fine / Fiene

Lenia

Sonja

Xenia

Eleonora

Melisa

Enni / Enny

Hira

Adriana

Dana

Defne

Lola

Miray

Tamina

Nicole

Asya

Esther

Josie / Josy

Naomi

Cecilia

Claire

Dilara

Selin

Enie

Fritzi

Leonora

Melek

Miley

Wilma

Esila

Esma

Feline

Rieke

Ada

Amara

Cara

Estelle

Gerda

Lilian / Lillian

Viola

Adelina

Janne

Philine

Tiana

Ivy

Juliana

Kimberly / Kimberley

Lieselotte

Malena

Delia

Enisa

Joana / Joanna

Kim

Ellen

Evelina

Felicia

Liyana

Lilith

Liz

Amanda

Anouk

Eleanor

Samantha

Talea

Arina

Dua

Emilija

Eslem

Irma

Maike / Meike

Nike

Rita

Adele

Alisha

Iva

Josefin / Josephin

Margarete

Romina

Ylva

Elaine

Helin

Joline / Joeline

Josephina / Josefina

Madeleine

Nila

Ophelia

Philippa

Abigail

Anja

Melinda

Scarlett

Toni / Tony

Erna

Gloria

Grace

Jade

Jolie

Madlen / Madleen

Marit

Melanie

Tuana

Annemarie

Debora / Deborah

Jenna

Kiana

Liva

Minna

Shirin

Zofia

Chloe

Fatima

Felia

Friederike

Isa

Jasmina

Jolien

Leandra

Nia

Salome

Giuliana

Inga

Josefa / Josepha

Judith

Megan

Mika

Nea

Neyla

Runa

Ruth

Sunny

Tala

Abby

Alba

Amaya

Anisa

Bianca / Bianka

Eliza

Gabriela

Janna

Jessika / Jessica

Maileen / Mayleen

Natalia

Soraya

Verena

Asel

Cassandra / Kassandra

Eda

Elenor

Julina

Kayla

Lilou

Lydia

Maggy

Meva

Naemi

Penelope

Rahel

Violetta

Alara

Caitlin / Caitlyn

Elis

Ilayda

Judy

Juliane

Sila

Vera

Anita

Charlotta

Evi

Henrieke / Henrike

Jamila

Janina

Ria

Sarina

Stina

Zara

Zuzanna

Zümra

Beyza

Cosima

Ema

Florentina

Ines

Jona / Jonah

Kalea

Katerina

Klea

Masal

Milina

Nilay

Skadi

Tarja

Tina

Charlie / Charly

Franka

Hanne

Hilde

Joy

Joyce

Luzi / Luzie

Marisa

Mary

Meta

Minel

Sandra

Sienna

Vaiana

Adea

Cora

Davina

Dorothea

Erika

Femke

Freda

Hafsa

Jamie

Katja

Nova

Patricia

Philomena

Saphira

Saskia

Tiara

Yaren

Alica

Ashley

Betty

Celia

Clarissa

Dina

Elara

Elodie

Emina

Ben

Paul

Finn / Fynn

Leon

Jonas

Noah

Elias

Felix

Luis / Louis

Henry / Henri

Lukas / Lucas

Luca / Luka

Matteo

Emil

Maximilian

Theo

Oskar / Oscar

Liam

Anton

Jakob / Jacob

Max

Leo

Milan

Moritz

Julian

Alexander

David

Carl / Karl

Jona / Jonah

Samuel

Philipp

Niklas / Niclas

Tom

Mats / Mads

Erik / Eric

Linus

Jonathan

Tim

Rafael / Raphael

Leonard

Mika

Aaron

Vincent

Hannes

Levi

Johann

Lio

Jannis / Janis / Yannis

Fabian

Jan

Lennard / Lennart

Till

Benjamin

Valentin

Artur / Arthur

Simon

Johannes

Maxim / Maksim

Constantin / Konstantin

Marlon

Jannik / Yannik / Yannick / Yannic

Adrian

Joshua

Kilian

Nico / Niko

Mattis / Mathis / Matthis

Theodor

Julius

Toni / Tony

Lian

Luke / Luc

Milo / Milow

Mohammed / Muhammad

Fiete

Fritz

Nick

Bruno

Ole

Lenny

Adam

Gabriel

Matti

Phil

Daniel

Pepe

Malte

Florian

Benedikt

Lias

Nils / Niels

Dominic / Dominik

Michael

Ludwig

Lasse

Damian

Sebastian

Levin

Emilio

Carlo

Timo

Franz

Leopold

Jannes

John

Justus

Thilo / Tilo

Luan

Noel

Tobias

Joris

Oliver

Sam

Emilian

Malik

Lennox

Robin

Bennet

Frederik / Frederic

Piet

Elia / Eliah

Jayden / Jaden

Arian

Nicolas / Nikolas

Jonte

Alessio

Eddie / Eddy

Lion

Bela

Richard

Matthias

Miran

Emir

Lars

Friedrich

Enno

Ilias / Ilyas

Joel

Ferdinand

Marc / Mark

Henrik

Silas

Willi / Willy

Ali

Charlie / Charly

Christian

Bastian

Colin / Collin

Kian

Thore

Mailo

Benno

Jaron / Yaron

Jason

Hugo

Lenn

Neo

Tyler / Tayler

Jamie

Leonardo

Josef / Joseph

Michel

Gustav

Lorenz

Yasin

Jasper

Konrad

Elian

Dean

Lionell

Arne

Finnley / Finley / Finlay

Amir

Manuel

Thomas

Leano

Nikita

Nathan

Alex

Tristan

Aiden / Ayden

Marvin / Marwin

Hendrik

Maik / Meik / Mike

Aras

Curt / Kurt

Martin

Yusuf

Andreas

Hamza

Janosch

Xaver

Elija / Elijah

Lino

Connor / Conner

Leonhard

Eymen

Georg

Leandro

Victor / Viktor

Bjarne

Hanno

Marco / Marko

Marlo

Fabio

Jack

Clemens / Klemens

Diego

Magnus

Mick

Korbinian

Can

Ian

Leander

Antonio

Ömer

Titus

Roman

William

Jano

Mert

Tiago / Thiago

Claas / Klaas

Samu

Marius

Nino

Laurens / Laurenz

Sami

Wilhelm

Darian

Henning

Kalle

Keno

Edgar

Deniz

Erwin

Janne

Marten

Omar

Stefan / Stephan

Timur

Ibrahim

Patrick

Caspar

Otto

Ahmet

Albert

Ayaz

Lean

Christopher

James

Rayan

Alessandro

Dennis

Ilay

Kai / Kay

Peter

Alwin

Carlos

Marcel

Brian / Bryan

Dario

Kaan

Nevio

Robert

Ryan

Yunus

Jakub

Logan

Markus / Marcus

Bilal

Gregor

Darius

Hassan / Hasan

Leonas

Mattes

Mirac

Yigit

Danny / Denny

Eduard

Hans

Julien

Nelio

Kerem

Maurice

Rudi

Tammo

Timon

Ilja

Joscha

Junis

Laurin

Nael

Lutz

Mio

Taylor

Armin

Enes

Karim

Mustafa

Alfred

Christoph

Kevin

Mario

Tino

Valentino

Lijan

Romeo

Umut

Amin

Flynn

Ivan

Jonne

Leonidas

Louie

Mikail

Younes

Björn

Danilo

Emanuel

Giuliano

Jarno

Kjell

Mehmet

Milian

Veit

Youssef

Chris

Egon

Nikolai

Dylan

Ensar

Fred

Jon

Musa

Quentin

Ruben

Thies

Thorin

Tommi

Andre

Emin

Josua

Leif

Loris

Lucien

Miguel

Nathanael

Adriano

Alan

Berat

Devin

Jaro

Juri

Adem

Ahmad

Eren

Kiyan

Mahir

Pius

Anthony

August

Davin

Jesse

Miko

Raik

Rune

Semih

Torben / Thorben

Amar

Angelo

Antoni / Antony

Emre

Matei

Quirin

Ricardo / Riccardo

Tjark

Arvid

Aurelio

Bosse

Efe

Francesco

Hector / Hektor

Jeremy

Jesper

Kirill

Ragnar

Tamme

Vito

Damon

Heinrich

Kuzey

Mattia

Miro

Sandro

Edwin

Elio

Etienne

Jari

Jerome

Levian

Lorenzo

Pablo

Selim

Tamino

Ares

Joost / Jost

Kenan

Levent

Santiago

Tian

Tillmann

Abdullah

Andrej

Arik

Azad

Jamal

Kuno

Leno

Merlin

Alexandros

Amon

Ansgar

Arno

Benny

Berkay

Emmanuel

Isa

Iven / Yven

Junes

Mason

Taavi

Taha

Thees

Alparslan

Andrei

Aris

Casper / Kasper

Cedric / Cedrik

Dion

Elijas / Eliyas

Ilian

Issa

Jordan

Lorik

Luciano

Melvin

Pascal

Rocco

Vitus

Atilla / Attila

Dorian

Enrico

Harun

Johnny

Karam

Kasimir

Koray

Marek

Mikael

Miron

Nero

Nilas

Noar

Sascha

Vinzenz

Zayn

Dejan

Eliano

Fridolin

Jake

Lewis

Abel

Arda

Bent

Burak

Dante

Ethan

Georgios

Halil

Igor

Ioannis

Joey

Justin

Kimi

Lazar

Maddox

Marian

Milas

Paco

Angelos

Ari

Damien

Evan

Finjas

Hardy

Hussein

Jarik

Jascha

Kadir

Khaled

2. Top 10 Middle Names for girls

Phoenix

Lane

Alea

Ivory

Ceci

Joy

Doe

Ruby

Briar

June

More ideals for you: Top 500 Arabic Names

From : https://wikitopx.com/name-meanings/top-500-german-names-711969.html

[thediaryofatheatrekid]

Casting Goals for Tim Curry

Casting Goals:

Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors

Once Upon a December:

Franklin Hart, Jr. in 9 to 5

Gomez Addams in The Addams Family

Emcee in Cabaret

Nils Krogstad in A Doll’s House

Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof

Hades in Hadestown

Horace Vandergelder in Hello, Dolly!

Fred Graham/Petruchio in Kiss Me, Kate

Javert in Les Miserables

Miss Trunchbull in Matilda

Mr. Wormwood in Matilda

Fedya Dolokhov in Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Charlegmane in Pippin

Joe GIllis in Sunset Boulevard

Sweeney Todd in Sweeney Todd