#Waterloo Bear

[disabled-sapphic]

Cannot stop thinking about how Shakira knew she was being cheated on because her husband's affair partner was eating all her strawberry jam, like was the affair partner Paddington Bear's evil cousin Elizabeth Line Bear

[johannestevans]

The Joy of Trans Creation

On the liberty of making unapologetically transgender art.

Originally published in Prism & Pen.

For me as a child, there was no real transgender representation around me.

Transfeminine characters were exciting when I saw them, even though they were frequently the butt of jokes, highly sexualised, or the targets of violence from the narratives they appeared in. They were never afforded complex character arcs, and I can’t recall any trans women on my screens or on the pages of the books appearing for more than an episode or in small appearance before being killed or disappearing off-screen.

And trans men?

Nothing.

In the British soap series, Waterloo Road, there was a narrative about a trans guy that started when I was a young teenager myself, and it was… difficult. The narrative was clumsy and uninformed about trans experiences. It seemed more about cisgender parents’ anxieties about their trans children and was very conservative in extending liberty or freedom to the trans guy’s life or his body. He was sporty, a football player, and dykey — he was presented almost as if he was transitioning just to play sports.

And the obvious inspiration for this Waterloo Road plot, She’s The Man (2006) was…

Well, that wasn’t much to write home about either. The film is about a girl disguising herself as a boy in order to play soccer. I know that Amanda Bynes, who played the protagonist in She’s The Man, has talked in interviews about experiencing a lot of gender dysphoria whilst in the role, but what better encapsulation of the fact that trans roles were and still are so often played by cis actors who have no business doing so?

I remember watching She’s The Man as a kid and finding a lot of the jokes not very funny. These two trans male narratives, the only ones that I ever saw until I was much older, bore no resemblance to my life, my desires, and my feelings, whatsoever.

They were cisgender heterosexual people’s fantasies of transgender men. One is about a woman “thankfully” going back on her vile trans ways and revealing herself to be sexy and female after playing at being a pathetic and unmasculine man; the other is about an undesirable and lesbianish teenager who is “obviously” transitioning to get around misogyny, more than for any of his internal feelings.

I felt far more gender euphoria — far more excitement, more sense of feeling loved and cared for and genuinely represented and validated — when I saw effortlessly queer and fruity men on my screens. Characters like Hook and Smee in Hook (1991), or Armand and Albert in The Birdcage (1996): two silly, middle-aged men being overdramatic and in love with one another. Or characters like Hollywood Montrose in Mannequin (1987): fashion-focused, catty and, emotional.

Or, hell, even characters like the sexy gay leather bikers in the Blue Oyster Bar in the Police Academy movies — they’re intended as a recurring punchline, but nevertheless portrayed hot hairy men who dance the tango and unapologetically love and desire other men.

I did not feel like or want to be an eternal little boy for being transgender, continuously infantilised and emasculated, treated as if I wasn’t a real man. Moreover, I had no interest in feeling or acting as though manhood or masculinity or men were something I should have been superior to.

I’m a fashionable, pretty gay dude with so many joint problems that going for a jog can put me out of action for days. Narratives about straight trans guys, let alone ultra-sporty ones, couldn’t bear any less resemblance to my life or my desires as a man.

There’s a reason many cisgender people are attracted to these narratives about transmasculinity, and unfortunately, it has nothing to do with truly supporting the trans men who are lesbians, or who are sporty or straight. It has more to do with their feelings about which “women” are best to “allow” to transition, and so much of those feelings are based on their expectations of female attractiveness or desirability within heterosexual society, and never truly afford love or respect to those men.

And men like me?

We’re unthinkable, and thus, invisible.

Times have changed, a little — I do see more trans men on television and in film, bit by bit. I know that in animation particularly, great strides are being made in portraying various trans characters, and we see a much wider variety of trans characters in shows and film.

I do still think that I see far more they/them trans masc types who are often a white monolith with similar butch lesbian stylings, dyed hair, and certain piercings, often as a sort of introduction for cis hetero viewers to the concept of nonbinary identity or the use of they/them pronouns. I know many people like this in real life, nonbinary or trans, and the issue isn’t their physical appearance or the fact that they’re depicted like this — it’s that their characterisations are so often one-note.

I can’t think of seeing a character introduced as nonbinary who appears more transfeminine, or who characters would automatically label as “he” instead of “she” before being corrected to they/them, because nonbinary identity is treated in popular media as a sort of woman-lite; I can think of one gay trans guy who’s in Shameless; I can’t think of many trans men on television at all or in film who are fat, non-white or disabled.

Television and film are still a long way behind the beautiful diversity of real trans experience — but I write books and short stories. I get to create, as a gay trans man, trans men like me, and trans men like my friends, and craft narratives about trans experience that cisgender people would never be able to.

I published my second novel this month. One of the main characters is a transmasc fallen angel with BPD — he’s cold and arrogant, manipulative, cruel, and at the same time, he’s endlessly loving and charismatic, he’s beautiful and savage, he’s radical and believes strongly in his ideas, and in the rights of everybody.

I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams as a child seeing a character like that in any book I read. But many other trans men, trans people, queer people, and readers in general, will be able to pick up my book and connect to that character, see themselves in him, and love him or despise him as they might any other character.

There is no limit as an indie author to the trans characters that I can create, or how many of them I can have. I don’t have to limit myself to having a singular trans man on a cast of cis-hetero characters, his whole person and physicality aligned to the cisgender stereotype of transmasculinity.

I have dozens of trans characters in the universes I create, and many of them are trans men like me, or not: fat trans men, trans men of colour, Jewish trans men, disabled trans men, traumatised trans men. They’re tailors, revolutionaries, students, teachers, historians, archivists, office workers, stablehands, fops, librarians, adventurers, rogues, pirates, sailors, bastards or angels, heroes or villains.

The sheer joy of that reality is striking me regularly at the moment whenever someone leaves a kind or enthusiastic comment on my works or in their reviews. There’s so much joy that people display in reading my short stories or buying my books, and God, the wonder that I feel when I attend conventions or events and people recognise me or recognise my work and enthuse about it to me.

There is no greater compliment to me, no better assurance, no more loving thing to be told or to overhear, than “Finally, I feel seen.”

“He’s just like me!” or “I’ve never felt so represented,” or “Oh, I want to be him. I am him already. I love him.”

It’s lonely to be transgender.

In a society that punishes and penalises any acts of gender transgression or perceived deviation from the norm or expectation, the transgender or nonbinary or otherwise gender-nonconforming person is constantly at risk — and aware of the risk — of ostracisation, of victimisation, of violence, or assault. We go through life aware that we may be attacked or discredited, violently assaulted, denied medical care, treated as unworthy of love, abused, harmed, hurt.

We must fear and be wary of isolation from our friends, our loved ones, and our communities, because society fears us and has been taught it can hate us. Other people, those that we love, that we care about, forging those connections and keeping them strong, they are how we can survive.

And how do we do that, when we don’t know in our heart of hearts that those like us exist? When we can’t be sure that we exist?

I was very lucky as a young man to feel confident and assured in seeing myself and then establishing myself as like the queer, fruity men that I saw and loved on the screen, no matter that they weren’t made with the thought of transgender men like me. Yet so many others, people I talk to, people I’ve never heard of, do not have that assurance.

They stand in front of a mirror and they don’t see anything. To feel transgender before one’s transition is often to see oneself or think of oneself as existing in potentia. We are an egg yet to crack and hatch; we are a soul without a vessel as yet.

How can we imagine a future for ourselves when we can’t envisage it? When we have no framework or canvas or idea of how a person like us can look, can live, can exist? How can we conceive of what we might be or what we truly are, when we might be grappling with our own pains and trauma and dysphoria, and at the same time society’s disregard of us, when we have never known or thought of others like us existing — let alone existing in beautiful diversity, in variety, in the complexity that we truly do?

Whenever I get one of those comments or whenever someone says a kind word to me about my work as a trans man and I see the light in that person’s eyes or the enthusiasm in the words they’ve written, there is an unspeakably immense happiness and joy in it.

To have taken part in that, to have created a mirror for that person to see themselves in, a character or characters that make that person feel real— not merely validated or represented, but seen and loved and cared for by a complete stranger, I can name no greater privilege.

It’s a shame I didn’t have that in my childhood, sure, but what’s important is that I and, far more importantly, a whole variety of trans and nonbinary creators, are doing that work today.

In Daniel Ortberg’s Something That May Shock and Discredit You, there’s a truly beautiful quote:

As my friend Julian puts it, only half winkingly: “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.”

In being transgender I have created myself — no longer in potentia, I have developed and evolved. I’ve played with my hair and my face and my jewellery and my clothes; I’ve fed and nurtured my masculinity and my love for men and manhood as a gay man; I have created myself, and that’s been very joyful for me…

But to create works that help other people, transgender or otherwise, men or otherwise, create themselves? See for themselves the sort of people they’d like to be, how they would like to make themselves created?

That is a triumph beyond measure, and I am so grateful to do so.

[theholmwoodfoundation]

THE HOLMWOOD FOUNDATION PILOT EPISODE CAST/CREW - PART ONE

REBECCA ROOT - MADDIE TOWNSEND/MINA HARKER

Rebecca trained at Mountview Academy of Theatre Arts. Theatre credits include A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespeare’s Globe, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time for the National Theatre (UK and Ireland tour); Rathmines Road for Fishamble at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin; Trans Scripts at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, Massachusetts; The Bear / The Proposal at the Young Vic; and Hamlet at the Gielgud Theatre and Athens International Festival. TV, Film and Video Game credits include Monsieur Spade, This Is Christmas, Irvine Welsh’s Crime, Hogwarts Legacy, Horizon Forbidden West, Heartstopper, Annika, The Rising, Sex Education, The Gallery, The Queen’s Gambit, Finding Alice, Creation Stories, Last Christmas, The Sisters Brothers, Colette, The Danish Girl, Flack, The Romanoffs, Moominvalley, Hank Zipzer, Boy Meets Girl, Doctors, Casualty, The Detectives, and Keeping Up Appearances.  Radio credits include Clare In The Community, Life Lines, The Hotel, and 1977 for BBC Radio 4. Guest appearances include Woman’s Hour, Front Row, Loose Ends, Saturday Live, and A Good Read.  She plays Tania Bell in the award-winning Doctor Who: Stranded audio dramas. Rebecca has also recorded numerous documentary narrations, audiobooks, and voice-overs. Rebecca is also a voice and speech coach, holding the MA in Voice Studies from Royal Central School of Speech and Drama.

SEAN CARLSEN - JEREMY LARKIN/ JONATHAN HARKER

Born in South Wales, Seán trained at the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama. He has worked extensively in audio drama, television, theatre and film.  Seán is perhaps best known to Doctor Who fans as Narvin in the Doctor Who audio series Gallifrey and has appeared on TV in Doctor Who - The Christmas Invasion and Torchwood. Recent TV credits include Mudtown (BBCiplayer/S4C), Dal y Mellt (Netflix), His Dark Materials (BBC1), All Creatures Great and Small (Channel 5), A Mother's Love (Channel 4) and Series 5 of Stella (Sky1).  Films include supporting leads in Boudica - Rise of the Warrior Queen, cult horror The Cleansing,  the lead in Forgotten Journeys and John Sheedy’s forthcoming film ‘Never Never Never’

SAM CLEMENS - ARTHUR JONES

Samuel Clemens trained at the Drama Centre London and is an award-winning director with over twenty years’ experience. Samuel has recently written and directed his debut feature film ‘The Waterhouse’ with Take The Shot Films & Featuristic Films and represented by Raven Banner Entertainment, which is due for release this coming year.  In addition, he has directed fourteen short films, winning awards all over the world including shorts ‘Surgery (multi-award winning), A Bad Day To Propose (Straight 8 winner 2021), Say No & Dress Rehearsal’. Samuel also directs critically acclaimed number one UK stage tours and fringe shows (Rose Theatre Kingston, Swansea Grand, Eastbourne, Yvonne Arnaud, Waterloo East Theatre) and commercials include clients JD Sports, Shell and Space NK. Samuel is also a regular producer and director for Big Finish Productions & Anderson Entertainment. He has cast, directed, produced and post supervised numerous productions of ‘Doctor Who – (BBC), The Avengers (Studio Canal), Thunderbirds, Stingray (Anderson Entertainment), Callan, Missy, Gallifrey’& Shilling & Sixpence Investigate’ and many more. Samuel has directed world class talent such as, Sir Roger Moore, Ben Miles, Tom Baker, Sylvester McCoy, Alex Kingston, Frank Skinner, Rita Ora, Rosie Huntingdon-Whiteley, Rufus Hound, David Warner, Celia Imrie, Samuel West, Youssef Kerkour, Sophie Aldred, Ian McNiece, Colin Baker, Olivia Poulet, Stephen Wight, Jade Anouka, Mimi Ndwendi, Michelle Gomez, Peter Davidson, Paul O’Grady and many more. Samuel is one of the founding members and directors at Take The Shot Films Ltd and is Head of Artistic Creation and Direction. Lastly, Samuel is a regular tutor at The London Film Academy, The Giles Foreman Centre for Acting & The Rose Youth Theatre and is a member of The Directors Guild UK. As for upcoming projects, Sam is currently in pre-production on his next feature film “On The Edge of Darkness”, which is based on his dad’s stage play “Strictly Murder”.

ATTILA PUSKAS - DRACULA

Attila Puskás is a native Hungarian Voice Actor born in Transylvania – Romania, so Romanian is in his bag of tricks too, but most of his work is done in English, in a Transatlantic Eastern European Accent, but is quite capable of Hungarian, Romanian and International Eastern European accents, plus Standard American. His voice range is Adult to Middle Aged (30-40+) due to his deep voice. Vocal styles can range from authoritive, brooding to calming and reassuring and much more. He’s most experienced in character work, like Animations and Games, but his skills encompass Commercials to Narration as well. He’s received training through classes and workshops, pushing him to the next level to achieve higher standards. Now on a journey to perfect these skills and put them to good use!

PART TWO: HERE

PART THREE: HERE

[look-sharp-notes]

Традиция носить меховые шапки – bearskin – у Гвардейской пехоты Британии, появилась после битвы при Ватерлоо в 1815 году, во время которой британским солдатам «приглянулись» меховые головные уборы французов, доставшиеся победителям в качестве трофеев. На одну шапку уходит шкура черного канадского медведя ! По этому поводу давно негодуют правозащитники животных! Сдаст ли свои позиции Королевская Гвардия?

The tradition of wearing fur hats - bearskin - in the British Guards appeared after the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, during which British soldiers "fell in love" with the fur hats of the French, which were taken by the victors as trophies. One hat requires the skin of a black Canadian bear! Animal rights activists have long been indignant about this! Will the Royal Guard give up its positions?

[resowrites]

Waterloo - oneshot.

Summary: Speculation abounds about his wife's pregnancy and Henry finally has enough…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, angst, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2034

A/N: This was supposed to go up last week but time got away from me. Please note: as I've tried to write this story as both standalone oneshots and an ongoing series, I now have to use more imagery to flesh out this arc and I'm aware this may disappoint some of you. But I want you all to know, whether you're a regular reader of mine or not, I will always adore and support you no matter who you are or what you look like. Please also note: this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. Love you guys ~ R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Waterloo - oneshot.

Henry couldn't help but smile when he reentered the living room and saw her lying there. They'd walked the dogs only twenty minutes before and she was so exhausted she'd collapsed on the sofa the moment they got home. He watched as her chest rose steadily with every breath, with her legs tucked up and a hand cupping the base of her stomach. Luckily her morning sickness had lessened and the worst symptom her pregnancy was causing at that moment was bouts of extreme tiredness. He was loathe to wake her, especially as he had difficult news to share. Seeing her so soundly asleep reminded him of how vulnerable she was and his chest stirred with a mixture of anger and worst of all - guilt. "Ollie, it's dinnertime, can you wake up for me?" He rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to rouse her slowly. But her eyes burst open and she bolted upright.

"M-mmm what time is it?"

"Six o'clock darling, you fell asleep after our walk. I thought you'd like some dinner, you can join me in the kitchen if you're up to it?" She blinked at Henry several times, still trying to get her bearings.

"Yeah, okay, just help me up…" He smiled lovingly and took her by the hands. "What are we having? If you want I can drive to the deli and pick us up a couple of subs?" Henry vigorously shook his head.

"No, it's fine darling, I'm going to make something. Besides, you need to rest. There's… also something we need to discuss." As if on queue, his phone pinged for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. Henry tried to ignore it and offered her a reassuring smile. But her mouth set into a frown.

"What is it? Are your Mum and Dad okay?!"

"Yes sweetheart, it's nothing like that. Come on, let's have something to eat first." He attempted to lead her into the kitchen but she held fast.

"Henry, you're worrying me. What is it?" He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds and sighed.

"Look, I really didn't want to bring this up—"

"Bring up what?! Just tell me!"

"Okay, okay… you know we went shopping yesterday and you thought someone took a picture of us?" She nodded slowly. "Well, it turns out a picture was taken. And then posted on Twitter." She blinked at Henry several times.

"So? Sometimes people catch us and take photos…"

"Darling, I… things are different now." He reached for her stomach.

"Oh…"

"Look, my publicist's already called me. The picture's everywhere and she wants to know how we'd like to proceed—"

"What? Why?"

"Well, maybe if we're more upfront the speculation will die down and there'll be less interest…" Henry trailed off, unable to read the look on her face. Eventually, she cleared her throat.

"Henry, it really doesn't matter what we confirm and/or how. People are still going to take our pictures and gossip. It's why I didn't want to do anything in the first place - it's not going to make any difference." His head dropped to his chest.

"… I'm so sorry, darling." She cradled Henry's face and gave him a quizzical look.

"What for?"

"For all of it. I wanted to do my best to protect you and I've failed."

"Failed? It's not your fault someone saw us—"

"Yes, but if you were with someone else, you'd have none of this. You could just live your life without being talked about the whole world over." She chuckled.

"Aren't you exaggerating slightly? It's only a small group of people who really cares about this. Besides, we've been together nearly a decade—"

"I know, but that's not how they see it. I'm just scared that this will all escalate now that that picture's out there—"

"But darling that's beyond our control. Besides, it's not like anyone's made any threats… is it?"

"No, but what if they do? I mean I would never want to scare you but you know how unhinged people can be. If anything happens to you I'll never forgive myself." She couldn't help but laugh again.

"Well, for starters we're holed up here most of the time and security aside, we also have two Akita's who aren't exactly fond of strangers. I'm sure we'll be fine…" But he was in no mood for her teasing.

"Darling this isn't funny, I feel beyond awful. You should never have had these sorts of worries, pregnant or not."

"Don't be daft. I wouldn't trade our life for anything. Okay, so it can be a nuisance at times, but what others think isn't important. We have to live our lives, Henry. We were going to be spotted at some point. It's probably better people know now rather than when we're randomly seen pushing a pram."

"I know, I know. But I still feel helpless. It makes me fear for when the baby's actually here. How are they going to cope with being in the public eye? How the hell am I going to keep them safe as well?"

"Well, they won't even be able to find their feet for the first four months—" Henry's face hardened.

"Ollie, this isn't a bloody joke. Once our kid is out there, there's only so much we can do—"

"But that would be the case whether they were the child of someone famous or not. If there's one thing this pregnancy's taught me so far, it's that we can't have total control. Okay, so one day they'll have to learn why people want to meet their dad and take pictures of him, but that's not a bridge we'll have to cross for some time." He was silent for several moments. "Darling, talk to me…"

"It's nothing, it's just… none of it's worth it. Especially now."

"What are you saying?"

"I saying, I'm ready to—"

"Stop right there—"

"No, Ollie. I won't. Sooner or later it'll become the biggest stressor for us as a family. If the two of you aren't being photographed in the street, there'll be times when you're by yourselves - just the thought of what could happen makes me sick to my stomach."

"Darling, we were out in public and you're a public figure. Okay, so it's unfortunate. But it's not like they got a picture of them—"

"And what about when they do? As you said, we can't fully protect them—"

"Well, for starters, the law's on our side. But other than that you're going to have to learn to let this go. What will be, will be." Henry nearly blew his top.

"How can you be so bloody calm about this?! I'm scared that the more pregnant you look, the more invasive people will become. I don't even want people coming up to you, let alone anything else—"

"I've handled that okay in the past haven't I?" He smiled sadly and held her tight.

"Of course you have, and I'm not saying you're some delicate flower but this isn't just about us anymore. I want to do my best for you and the baby and it scares me how terrible people can be."

"Why? Just what exactly are they saying?" Henry didn't know how to respond. She sighed. "Oh sweetheart, it's not your fault."

"Of course it is! And what can I do about any of it? Nothing unless I give it up—"

"Don't be ridiculous, even that wouldn't be enough. Once you're famous, you're famous. We just have to rise above it."

"But I want to respond, let people know they can keep their disgusting opinions to themselves—"

"And has that ever worked in the past? Look, we really will be alright. You have nothing to apologise for or feel guilty about. We have a wonderful life, Henry. We have so many amazing adventures together and we're about to embark on our biggest one yet…" She rubbed his chest but his head hung low.

"I still want you both to have as little stress as possible."

"What will make me less stressed is you promising not to get any more upset by this, okay?” She bit her lip. “And if it makes any difference, I already knew about the picture." Henry’s eyes darted upwards.

"What?!"

"My sister messaged me when she saw it doing the rounds on Instagram. She's blocked the people trying to get more information." His nostrils flared.

"See?! They've already started harassing our family! We've got to nip this in the bud now—"

"Darling, we're damned if we do, damned if we don't. Luckily we have good people around us and they've promised to say nothing—"

"That's not what worries me. Why didn't you say anything?"

"… Because I knew you were already feeling bad and I didn't want to make it worse." Henry's heart ached.

"Oh, darling. You know you can always tell me anything. Just promise me you won't go reading comments—"

"I won't. But… can you be honest about something?"

"Of course."

"… Do I look big?"

"What? Why would you even think that?!"

"Are you sure?"

"Darling, that's the reason they're in a tizzy, they can't tell if you're pregnant or not—"

"Well… soon they'll know for sure."

"Oh Ollie, please promise me you're not worried about that of all things? All this pregnancy has done is make you even more beautiful—" she scoffed.

"Henry, look… we can work out our plans as a family when we need to. But you love what you do, it's who you are and what you've worked so hard for—"

"No, it's not. Finding you made me realise it never has been. Making you my wife, starting a family… that's who I am. What I've always wanted. I'd do anything now, just so long as you and our kid are always near me." She felt a lump in her throat. "Don't you get it ya numpty? I've never seen your eyes look so soft and warm. It's not about me missing out - I love doing nothing with you Ollie." She swallowed back her tears.

"Well, let's just wait until they're here, okay? Then we can go from there. But I promise you, I'm not worried about that picture, and neither should you be." His head sunk again.

"… They had no right to even take it." She then shot him a mischievous look.

"Well, was it at least enough to distract from the size of my arse?" Henry softened and quickly turned her around.

"Hang on, lemme take a look—" she spun back and thumped him on the arm.

"Don't you start now, mister - I only have so much bloody patience!" Henry's eyes quickly lost their playful spark. "Well, if things get that bad… you could always do a naked calendar. That'd give them something else to talk about—"

"A naked calendar?! You do realise I'm far too hung to appear in-frame?" She clucked her tongue.

"Oh please, the photographer would need more Vaseline for the lens than what's currently in production…" His eyebrows hit the ceiling.

"What are you trying to say?! You're no bloody prize either!" She thwacked Henry on the arm.

"At least they wouldn't be swapping out the lens every thirty seconds—" He gasped.

"Well, I'm surprised that person's phone didn't explode when they took that picture!" Her mouth fell open.

"Oh yeah?! Cos I'm shocked anyone even bothers to take their camera out to snap you—" Henry couldn't stand it any longer and pulled her in for a kiss.

"… Then let me take my shirt off and we'll see just how well I photograph—"

"No fucking thank you! I don't want to be put off that dinner you said you were going to make. In fact, you can now take me out for it—"

"Will a drive-thru be alright?"

"No, it bloody well won't you little bollocks! You know, just for that, you can take me to the new Italian on Harpin Lane—"

"But they won't even do spaghetti there!"

"Tough shit. You should have thought about that before you opened your mouth—"

"Well, from now on I definitely won't be!"

"Good! More breadsticks for me!"

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira

[osarina]

If we talking about AU’s can i propose the AU where Reader takes Beast Dazai’s place and Dazai is their Oda? Imagine Them meeting and Dazai being so confused and also very touched(because who would love someone like him?) that someone he doesn’t know(in the current timeline) would create multiple universes just for him to be happy, i love AU’s guys

no because nonnie when i tell you i was thinking about something this like. it’s not exact so bear with me let me tell u this first but could you imagine there’s a waterloo universe out there where reader somehow has knowledge of all of the other universes. she KNOWS that in every universe, she dies because of dazai but she still chooses to go to him anyway because she rejects any universe that they can’t be together, even at the cost of her own life & happiness.

BUT reader as beastzai and dazai as her oda. WOW - i could imagine this as like a civilian dazai au i think bc i think reader would do her best to shield him from any part of this life. and could u just imagineeeeee bro dazai finding out about all of this by chance 🥹 i don’t even think he would ever be able to understand it just because of the how low in esteem he holds himself.

[bbatcat-09]

Hey, making an octonauts playlist what songs should I add?

Currently:

Gen: Octopus’s Garden- the Beatles, Waterloo - ABBA, Captain’s Call - Derivakat, What a Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong, Yellow Submarine - The Beatles, Welcome Home Son - Radical Face

Barnacles: Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles

Kwazii: Hoist the Colours - multiple, Wellerman - Nathan Evans, Soldier Poet King - The Oh Hellos, Ship in a Bottle - Fin Argus

Peso: I don’t love myself - Ricky Jamaraz, Why Procreate When You Can Dissociate - Ewy, Boys will be Bugs - Cavetown, Field Song - Ricky Jamaraz

Shellington: Microwave - Ricky Jamaraz, Doing This Again - Bears in Trees

Tweak: (sitting on) the dock of the bay - Otis Reddings,

Inkling: Blue in Green - Miles Davis

Dashi: Good Luck Babe - Chappell Roan

Vegimals(?): All the Small Things (Simlish version) - The Stardust Sisters

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4kDSdFqjqzHBX2uF3qm1m6?si=lNMv9jjZRDK6CEOW6JqnbQ

People who have contributed: @bambiilooza @pinkyshy10

[deebeeus]

A few shots from my recent trip to Folkway Music in Waterloo, Canada.

1956 Les Paul Junior

2006 Gibson R7 Aged

1967 Gibson Trini Lopez Standard

2 x 1967 Fender Coronados

Brand new Brown Bear Jr. model. Handcrafted by luthier Jesse Brown in Kitchener, Canada.

[moonlightblues07]

Parallel Universe of Alex's Speech when the Waterloo Emails got leaked.

From the book:

I am not ashamed to stand here today where presidents have stood and say that I love him, the same as Jack loved Jackie, the same as Lyndon loved Lady Bird. Every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it, whom the American people will hold beside them in hearts and memories and history books. America: He is my choice. Like countless other Americans, I was afraid to say this out loud because of what the consequences might be. To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I'm bisexual. History will remember us.

From the movie:

But there is another truth that's much simpler: I fell in love with a person who happens to be a man, and that man happens to be a prince. He has captured my heart and made my life immeasurably better. I love His Royal Highness, Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox. I hope one day we'll have the opportunity to be public our relationship on our own terms.

Both speech are beautiful and has the power of there own but the highlight on this two parallel is how Alex expressed his feelings for Henry to everyone 😭 and being brave to come out and fight for them and to their sexuality 🤧 this speeches needs an award

[blackswaneuroparedux]

We might know how it ends, but like all good stories it bears repetition. So here it is again, the story of a battle.

Bernard Cornwell, Waterloo: The True Story of Four Days, Three Armies and Three Battles

So I've been getting lots of questions about the significance of the Battle of Waterloo for Britain, France, and indeed Europe.

Great claims have been made as to the legacy of the Battle of Waterloo; but it is not as clear cut as many may claim; for it certainly did not crush all French opposition in a single blow; it did not augur in a century of enduring peace and prosperity across Europe; nor can it claim to have permanently re-established the monarchical system in Europe. Therefore after all the glory, the death and suffering caused on that battlefield, what were its real long term legacies?

For the people living in the vicinity of Waterloo, the utter destruction of the land and of their homes was devastating to their lives, but time soon healed the wounds on the landscape and the abandoned equipment scattered across the battlefields became a virtual treasure trove for the locals as the field of Waterloo was soon at the top of every travellers ‘must see’ list during a sojourn in Belgium. Numbers lived for years selling relics of the battle or became guides to the battlefield as the bloody fields instantly became a top tourist attraction. Every poet and writer in Europe had to visit to witness the scenes of devastation before penning their impressions and publishing to an eager audience, hungry for every new edition.

When they are examined with the benefit of hindsight, battles are rarely accorded the significance given to them. Few become venerated among a nation’s lieux de mémoire, or contribute to the foundation myths of modern nations. Of the battles of the Napoleonic Wars, it is arguable that Leipzig [the 1813 battle lost to the Allies by French troops under Napoleon] has its place in the rise of German nationalism, even if its real importance was greatly exaggerated and mythologized by 19th-century cultural nationalists. In Pierre Nora’s magisterial study of France, only Bouvines, in 1214 [which ended the 1202–14 Anglo-French War], makes the cut. Waterloo, unsurprisingly, does not figure.

Yet at the time Waterloo was hailed in Britain as a battle different in scale and import from any other of the modern era. It had, it was claimed, ushered in a century of peace in continental Europe. It had brought to a close, in Britain’s favour, the centuries-old military rivalry with France. And it had ended France’s dream of building a great continental empire in Europe, while leaving Britain’s global ambitions intact. If the Victorian age could be claimed as ‘Britain’s century’, it was her victory over Napoleon that had ushered it in. Britain, it seemed, had every reason to celebrate, every reason to claim Waterloo as its own.

To some extent Britain’s response was justified; it was a victory that positioned the country favourably, bolstering its global ambitions and helping to create the conditions for the economic success that lay ahead in the Victorian era. Having laid the final, decisive blow on Napoleon, Britain could command a leading role in the peace negotiations that followed and thus shape a settlement that suited its interests. While other coalition states claimed back sections of Europe, the Vienna Treaty gave Britain control over a number of global territories, including South Africa, Tobago, Sri Lanka, Martinique and the Dutch East Indies, something that would become instrumental in the development of the British Empire’s vast colonial command. It is not surprising then that in other parts of Europe, Waterloo - though still widely acknowledged as decisive - is generally accorded less significance than the Battle of Leipzig.

If Waterloo was Britain’s greatest military triumph, as it is often feted, it surely does not owe that status to the battle itself. Military historians generally agree that the battle was not a great showcase of either Napoleon’s or Wellington’s strategic prowess. Indeed, Napoleon is commonly believed to have made several important blunders at Waterloo, ensuring that Wellington’s task of holding firm was less challenging than it might have been. The battle was a bloodbath on an epic scale but, as an example of two great military leaders locking horns, it leaves a lot to be desired.

The short term significance in the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo marked the end of Napoleon’s storied military career. He reportedly rode away from the battle in tears. Though he emerged victorious, the Duke of Wellington later reflected on the the horrific costs of that victory: “My heart is broken by the terrible loss I have sustained in my old friends and companions and my poor soldiers. Believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.” Wellington went on to serve as British prime minister, while Blucher, in his 70s at the time of the Waterloo battle, died a few years later.

Waterloo’s long term significance must surely be the role it played in achieving lasting peace in Europe. Wellington, who did not share Napoleon’s relish for battle, is said to have told his men, “If you survive, if you just stand there and repel the French, I’ll guarantee you a generation of peace”. Perhaps the lesson of this historic battle the nations of Europe which fought as foes that day need to forget these old sores and celebrate together; recognising that it did force Europe to acknowledge that it must find a new path of reconciliation and accord. This road has been far from smooth, but each time it has failed, a greater understanding of the need for the European states to work more closely together has emerged from the ashes.

Ultimately this is the truly significant importance of Waterloo.

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #5: bad metaphors about maps

bad metaphors about maps A agcd@eclare45.com                9/25/20 3:21 AM to Henry h, i have had whiskey. bear with me. there’s this thing you do. this thing. it drives me crazy. i think about it all the time. there’s a corner of your mouth, and a place that it goes. pinched and worried like you’re afraid you’re forgetting something. i used to hate it. used to think it was your little tic of disapproval. but i’ve kissed your mouth, that corner, that place it goes, so many times now. i’ve memorized it. topography on the map of you, a world i’m still charting. i know it. i added it to the key. here: inches to miles. i can multiply it out, read your latitude and longitude. recite your coordinates like la rosaria. this thing, your mouth, its place. it’s what you do when you’re trying not to give yourself away. not in the way that you do all the time, those empty, greedy grabs for you. i mean the truth of you. the weird, perfect shape of your heart. the one on the outside of your chest. on the map of you, my fingers can always find the green hills, wales. cool waters and ashore of white chalk. the ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. your spine’s a ridge i’d die climbing. if i could spread it out on my desk, i’d find the corner of your mouth where it pinches with my fingers, and i’d smooth it away and you’d be marked with the names of saints like all the old maps. i get the nomenclature now—saints’ names belong to miracles. give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there’s so much of you. fucking yrs, a p.s. wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon—1917: And you have fixed my Life—however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but shall swing out soon, a dark star in the or bit where you will blaze.

Re: Bad metaphors about maps Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                9/25/20 6:07 AM to A From Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for having saved me. I was drowning and you threw yourself into the water without hesitation, without a backward look.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 318-320). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[watchmakermori]

I feel like nobody on this website gives a shit about obscure bbc tv drama Waterloo Road but I need to just say how emotional it is making me. this show first started in 2006. it's your basic school drama with mid writing and mid acting. I was 9 years old and i loved it. I watched every episode of this fuckin show, and it's important to bear in mind that the LARGE MAJORITY of them were eyewateringly bad. this show fucking sucked for about 60% of its run and i loved it. my whole family loved it.

the show ends in 2015 on the worst finale you can imagine. for years afterwards my family watches it again and again, mocking the shit out of it. It gets us through the pandemic. It's my ultimate shitty comfort show and I love it so much.

but this show is aggressively 2000s. it deals very much with Issues of the Moment - abortion, homophobia, racism, mental health issues, ableism - but it does it in the most graceless way possible. they decided to do a trans storyline at one point but then they freaked out and backpedaled and the character just decided they were cis actually, because committing would've been too much effort. that sort of thing

so eight years pass. they announce a new, fresh series of Waterloo Road and i am beside myself with joy. I can't wait to make fun of it again. imagine my surprise when it actually turns out to be kind of good. it's goofy as hell and hokey at times but the characters are likeable and the writing is way better on the whole. and it is fully 2023 Woke™ in a way that utterly delights me. the characters are diverse and the storylines deal again with Issues of the Day. but it just brings me so much joy that this shitty lightly homophobic show I loved as a kid is back, and this time the gay kids get to be cool. They get storylines that aren't just about being gay. I'm just happy for today's teens that they get representation like that now. Things really do get better

[lesmisscraper]

Brick... with animation!

23. Marius Became a Bonapartist

"I do not wish you to have a bad opinion of me. You see, I am attached to this place. It seems to me that the mass is better from here. Why? I will tell you. It is from this place, that I have watched a poor, brave father come regularly, every two or three months, for the last ten years, since he had no other opportunity and no other way of seeing his child, because he was prevented by family arrangements. He came at the hour when he knew that his son would be brought to mass. The little one never suspected that his father was there. Perhaps he did not even know that he had a father, poor innocent! The father kept behind a pillar, so that he might not be seen. He gazed at his child and he wept. He adored that little fellow, poor man! I could see that. This spot has become sanctified in my sight, and I have contracted a habit of coming hither to listen to the mass. I prefer it to the stall to which I have a right, in my capacity of warden. I knew that unhappy gentleman a little, too. He had a father-in-law, a wealthy aunt, relatives, I don't know exactly what all, who threatened to disinherit the child if he, the father, saw him. He sacrificed himself in order that his son might be rich and happy some day. He was separated from him because of political opinions. Certainly, I approve of political opinions, but there are people who do not know where to stop. Mon Dieu! a man is not a monster because he was at Waterloo; a father is not separated from his child for such a reason as that. He was one of Bonaparte's colonels. He is dead, I believe. He lived at Vernon, where I have a brother who is a cure, and his name was something like Pontmarie or Montpercy. He had a fine sword-cut, on my honor." "Pontmercy," suggested Marius, turning pale. "Precisely, Pontmercy. Did you know him?" "Sir," said Marius, "he was my father." The old warden clasped his hands and exclaimed:-- "Ah! you are the child! Yes, that's true, he must be a man by this time. Well! poor child, you may say that you had a father who loved you dearly!" - Vol 3, book 3, chapter 5

After Marius became a law student and Gillenormand got older, they left Madame's salon on Faubourg Saint-Germain and settle down on Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire.

In 1827, when Marius was 17, his grandfather ordered him to go Vernon, to see his father. But Marius did not have any emotion about father, since Gillenormand 'brainwashed' him.

But since grandfather insisted to do that, he headed to Vernon the next day, but Georges Pontmercy was dead. He really wanted to meet his son, although his body was in bad condition, he woke up from his bed and and fell on the floor.

Everything the colonel left was dead or sold except for one thing: his letter to Marius.

That letter was like this.

For my son.--The Emperor made me a Baron on the battle-field of Waterloo. Since the Restoration disputes my right to this title which I purchased with my blood, my son shall take it and bear it. That he will be worthy of it is a matter of course.

And there was an additional line below.

At that same battle of Waterloo, a sergeant saved my life. The man's name was Thenardier. I think that he has recently been keeping a little inn, in a village in the neighborhood of Paris, at Chelles or Montfermeil. If my son meets him, he will do all the good he can to Thenardier.

Familiar name, huh?

But he did not care about that letter seriously. He went to the mass at  Saint-Sulpice church as usual, and he accidentally sat on the churchwarden's seat. Then he heard why that warden wanted to sit on there. The old churchwarden told Marius the poor father's story and Marius got startled. His father always loved him. The bad person was not his father, his grandfather. That churchwarden was Mabeuf, the friend of Col. Pontmercy.

After that mass, he went to a library to search all about Napoleon, and he found his father's names on several pages. He was a great man, not a brigand like his grandfather told about him. Soon, Marius became a Bonapartist. And one night, he even opened the window and exclaimed: "Long live the Emperor!"(What a BOOBY....) He also ordered a hundred of business card written as <Le Baron Marius Pontmercy>.

He also spent several days to find the sergeant who saved his father. And Marius found his inn... without him. His inn was bankrupted at that time, and even Thenardier's creditors could not find him.

Since Marius went out a lot, his grandfather and aunt thought he had a girlfriend(yes, a little bit later, though...), and aunt Gillenormand sent lieutenant Theodule, great-grand-nephew of M. Gillenormand(but I can't find him in this 52-episode cartoon!). At first, he saw Marius buying a flower, and going to a church. Lt. Theodule thought he had a girlfriend, and was going to meet her at a mass. But....

What Theoudule saw was not a girl, but a grave. Marius put the flower on the tombstone, and paid respects. Later, his grandfather spied on Marius' clothes.

[empirearchives]

Victor Hugo popped off here…

“There exists a very respectable liberal school which does not hate Waterloo. We do not belong to it. To us, Waterloo is but the stupefied date of liberty. That such an eagle should emerge from such an egg is certainly unexpected. If one places one’s self at the culminating point of view of the question, Waterloo is intentionally a counter-revolutionary victory. It is Europe against France; it is Petersburg, Berlin, and Vienna against Paris; it is the status quo against the initiative; it is the 14th of July, 1789, attacked through the 20th of March, 1815; it is the monarchies clearing the decks in opposition to the indomitable French rioting. The final extinction of that vast people which had been in eruption for twenty-six years—such was the dream. The solidarity of the Brunswicks, the Nassaus, the Romanoffs, the Hohenzollerns, the Hapsburgs with the Bourbons. Waterloo bears divine right on its crupper.”

— from Les Misérables.

[italics by me]

[emma-ofnormandy]

I don’t know what this is- can’t even give you context for what triggered a Canute x Emma regency AU but alas, here is a 500 word scene anyways.

“He’s in the Guards, I believe. Fought at Waterloo.”

Emma eyed the gentleman in question over the rim of her glass, the champagne she sipped tickling her nose, as the women around her continued to gossip.

“Very important in the India campaigns too. Just returned from posts in Bombay, if my brother is to be believed.” The young woman’s fan fluttered in excitement. “Supposedly as wealthy as King Midas and in need of a wife.”

It took considerable control for Emma not to roll her eyes. If the Ton gossip was to be believed, every man here was in need of a wife when in actuality, perhaps a quarter of the gentlemen present were interested in such matters while the rest were simply there to conduct business under the guise of a glittering ball.

“Well, that shouldn’t be hard to secure,” said a Countess, “I doubt there is a woman here that would turn the man down. Just look at him. Even a married lady would consider throwing herself at his feet.”

The Countess, Emma knew, was married to a short, portly man, who was fifteen years her senior, regularly indulged in too much brandy and had an affinity for losing at the tables. She couldn’t fault the woman for eyeing the new arrival knowing what she would be returning home with.

The man, a Colonel if the ladies were correct, known amongst friends as Canute, was tall, dark haired, and carried the unmistakable bearing of a military man. Cavalry, if Emma was to guess. It was hard to miss, the particular gate of a horseman, and even in his formal dress it was unmistakable.

Though dressed like the rest in attendance, his features were harsh in comparison to those around him, and he scanned the room with the eyes of man who saw everything, as if searching for an enemy amongst the yards of satin and lace. If he was uncomfortable, and she imagined most men in his shoes would be, it didn’t show on his carefully schooled facade.

“What about you, Emma?”

“Hm?” Emma drug her gaze from where she’d been watching the Colonel prowl along the back wall to the young lady beside her. “What about what?”

“The Colonel,” the woman bobbed her head in his direction, “are you going to throw your hand in with the rest?”

Emma took another sip of her champagne, her gaze once again searching for him. This time, however, it seemed he he had been watching her as well, and their eyes locked in a heated hold. A smile flickered across his lips, but it did nothing to soften his features.

On the outside, Emma did her best to remain impassive, one delicate brow arching at his attention before breaking their connection and returning to focus on the woman beside her, but inside, Emma’s stomach fluttered like a young maiden’s.

“No,” she finally said, willing the butterflies to settle, “I don’t think I will.”

A man like that, one that evoked such a reaction in her so easily, was dangerous to her. She had worked painstakingly to curate a certain life for herself, and she could not allow any man, but especially one like the Colonel, to disrupt it.

[emilybeemartin]

I went to Apsley House today, which is where Wellington lived in London after the wars! There's too many photos to send you, but highlights include the naked Napoleon statue which is too big to go anywhere but the stairwell, the truly ridiculous amount of gold/gold plated crockery, several busts of his descendents easily recognisable by The Nose,..... I can go on. I've condensed it down into this bust ft. The Nose (Hugh Fraser really did bear a startling resemblance) and the boss of the Waterloo Shield.

Photos of Napoleon available on request. I just think that's a slightly strange thing to chuck into someone's inbox, sharpe obsession or not.

Yes, thank you, unsolicited photos of Wellington ephemera are indeed welcome in this house. That boss is SICK, god, imagine that just being a thing you own. And a giant statue of yourself naked, I mean, is there really any better power move when having guests over? Ultimate icebreaker. You know that place is Known among the Doordash folks.

Also, I feel like I heard lore somewhere--maybe History Hack?-- that at some memorial there's a statue of Wellington that they modeled off Hugh Fraser. I almost want to say it's Waterloo but I feel in my heart that can't be right. Anybody know?

Seeing Hugh Fraser as angsty Wellington after watching him as affable Cpt Hastings in Poirot is such a great trip, I keep wanting him to say "...good lord" like he does with David Suchet, but no, he's all "I'd rather have the surgeon saw off my goddamn foot."

Anyway, thank you for the photos!