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clusterfuck-misc · 3 years ago

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ANON ASKS:

Hi! Not sure if ur still interested, but I was wondering if u would write Crush headcanons for Denmark, Scotland, and/or Russia? If not, totally fine, what are some of ur favorite characters instead?

Matthias, Abel, and Ivan crush HCs

As you probably read, I switched out Scotland for Netherlands, since Scotland isn’t technically in Hetalia yet. Hope that’s okay! And my favorites switch around a lot, but I think it’s safe to say that they’re currently Germany, Russia, Norway, Greece, Netherlands, and Macau.

The reader is gender neutral.

Warnings: N/A

ARCHIVED POST. @heta-highschool IS MY NEW BLOG.

PLEASE DO NOT SEND REQUESTS ON THIS BLOG.

☆ Matthias crushing on you;

I actually think it takes a bit before Matthias realizes he’s developed a crush on you.

Like, he knows he feels attracted to you — he’s probably called you cute numerous times in the past — but it would probably take a while before it hits him that he has a full-blown crush on you.

But when it does, it hits him hard.

Probably happened when the two of you were walking back to the dormitories (Tino invited the Nordics + you to celebrate how well everyone did on the history test) only for it to randomly start hailing out of nowhere.

You both absolutely booked it and managed to make it to the dorms, watching the hail fall from the doorway.

It was silent for a bit, the initial shock of the hail still settling, before you looked at each other and began laughing.

That’s probably when it hits him that he has a crush on you.

He sees your gorgeous smile and listens to your joyful laughter echo through the air.

And he’s like… holy shit.

You’re the most amazing thing in the world to him in that very moment.

He almost forgets how to breathe.

You notice his flushed face, but figured it was from the now frigid air.

Both of you walk up to Tino’s dorm, him barely paying attention to what you were saying as he grapples with the fact that he’s absolutely fallen for you.

At the mini celebration after Tino made sure the two of you didn’t get injured by the hail, the Nordics notice that Matthias is quieter than usual.

They pick up on the way that his cheeks heat up when you talk to him, how he looks at you from across the dorm room, how he seemed to debate putting an arm around your shoulder while the two of you were sitting on Tino’s bed…

And they realize that he’s crushing on you.

It’s pretty obvious to everyone except you.

After he’s accepted his feelings, he’s probably gonna be the biggest show-off ever.

Tries hard in class, demonstrates his athletic ability any chance he gets, helping you with every little thing, he just wants to impress you really badly.

Definitely stares at you while you’re not looking.

(Lukas smacks the upside of his head and mumbles about how he’s being a creep.)

He’s always been on the touchy-feely side, but now multiply that by a thousand.

Arm around your shoulder 24/7.

People probably think you’re dating because of how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself (but not in that way. Get your mind out of the gutter).

Tino teases you two about being a couple and he just awkwardly laughs about it.

People also ask if you two are a thing, and he quickly denies though he thinks to himself that he’s working on it.

Lowkey the jealous type.

He just doesn’t want to lose you to someone else!

Whenever he feels like someone’s too close to you, he takes your hand and butts into the conversation.

It’s just so painfully obvious that he likes you.

☆ Abel crushing on you;

He isn’t the type to think about someone romantically.

Like — though he would never admit it — the thought is nice, but he thinks he’s got better things to do than to act like a lovesick schoolboy.

I imagine him struggling with being intrigued by romance while not believing in it (if that makes sense). He’s discarded the notion of being in love long ago because of this inward struggle.

And that’s why he doesn’t recognize he has feelings for you.

It probably takes the smallest act for it to hit him. Maybe something on the more domestic side that gets him thinking.

I think it happened on a cold day, when the two of you are walking to the main building.

He notices that you’re shivering and grumbles something along the lines of, “you should’ve dressed according to the weather.”

He then wraps his scarf around your neck with a sigh, figuring it would kinda suck if you caught a cold.

The way you snuggle into his scarf makes his heart leap into his throat.

It was just so… cute?

The thought of you doing that to his scarf makes his cheeks heat up.

After that, he starts to recognize that everything you do is cute.

The troubled look on your face when you’re deep in thought, the adorable apology you give when you accidentally bump into someone, the slight tilt of your head when you’re listening to one of your friends…

Oh god.

He’s completely smitten by you, isn’t he?

Poor guy’s probably in denial for a month straight. I can see him being a bit distant with you, making you wonder if you’ve done something wrong.

It comes to the point where Emma confronts him about it on your behalf, and that’s how she manages to find out about his crush.

It takes him a bit to accept the fact that he has feelings (with the help of his dear sister, of course), and he eventually starts hanging around you like normal.

Except he’s way more protective of you.

Like, wayyyyyyy more.

Absolutely hates it when other people get too close to you, and isn’t above pulling you away from a conversation if he feels the need to.

“I just don’t like them,” he’ll say.

He likes keeping a hand on your back, especially when you’re walking through a crowded hallway. It feels right for him.

100% listens to your every word despite not seeming like it (he likes hearing your voice).

He also likes to write you anonymous love poems, leaving them with your books or in your dorm when you’re not looking.

At first, he wasn’t sure how you were going to react; would you find it creepy?

But then, after watching you read his first one from across the classroom, he noticed how your eyes softened and your lips turned up in a small smile.

The way you held the poem close to yourself made his heart melt.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

All in all, he probably won’t tell you about his feelings. He’s convinced himself his feelings aren’t reciprocated and that you’ll be disgusted in him.

That’s why he tried to be discrete, save for the few loving glances he throws your way and how his cheeks turns pink when you catch him.

You might have to be the first one to make a move…

☆ Ivan crushing on you;

I feel like Ivan secretly has this longing to fall in love.

Like, since he grew up with a rather lonely childhood, he’s always felt like an outsider looking in when it comes to other people.

He sees how someone can bring another person so much joy simply by existing and he wants that.

He just wants to love someone and feel loved by someone for once.

And that’s why he falls so hard for you.

Maybe it happened over the simplest acts of kindness; like that time when you picked up his pencil after it rolled off his desk.

He couldn’t ignore the way his heart fluttered when your hands brushed together.

Or maybe like the time his papers got blown away by the wind and you helped him gather them back together.

The smile you gave him practically made him melt where he was standing.

Or maybe even like that time you held the door open for him when his arms were full.

It almost caused him to tear up after you offered to help him carry something.

The more you do for him, the more he falls for you. And it doesn’t help that you’re constantly there for him, too.

Ironically enough, however — despite daydreaming about you 24/7 — he doesn’t realize he has a crush on you.

It probably takes someone like Alfred teasing him to make him realize it.

“Dude, you’re staring at that (Y/N) person like you’re some obsessed weirdo. It’s kinda hilarious! But… also kinda creepy….”

He gives Alfred a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Next to him, Yao sighs. “He means you should go talk to them instead of looking at them like lovesick puppy.”

…

It suddenly clicks.

Poor baby slaps his hands over his cheeks to cover his growing blush. He’s a stuttering mess while Alfred laughs at him and Yao rolls his eyes.

After the sudden epiphany, he’s definitely way more shy around you.

You can’t but notice that he turns red around you, fiddling with his hands while he struggles to put a sentence together.

He definitely tries to do nice things for you when he can, helping you with even the smallest tasks.

Follows you around 24/7 (Francis has made it a point that it looks like he’s stalking you, which he isn’t. He just wants to be with you).

He’s afraid that he’s bothering you, but he also doesn’t want to lose the chance to be with you. It’s a dilemma that eats away at the back of his head all day.

Alfred and Francis 100% try to play matchmaker by constantly making sure he has a chance to talk to you.

Poor thing’s too shy to make any advances, though…

If the smallest touch from you causes him to explode on the inside, how on earth could he even ask you on a date?

He’s also scared of the thought of you rejecting him. He doesn’t want to risk having you hate him; he wouldn’t know what he would do if that happened.

Though he’d rather a romantic relationship, he’s alright with being friends with you.

As long as he can just be with you, anything’s fine.

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bitchapalooza · 4 years ago

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I got a little carried away with names today. Started with Sweden then went all over the place lmao. I'd like your guys' opinions on the names I've chosen before I ever use them in published works.

Sorry for the long read in advance ^^

Sweden: Berthold— I just like it. Not 100% sold on it though. He still has his canon surname as, as far as I know, there are no issues with it.

Denmark: Mikkel Hanssen— I just like it lol.

Ladonia: Oscar(or Oskar)— Its pretty sweet which is why I'm pretty sure Sweden would have chosen it for him. Not sure which spelling I like better. Shares a surname with Sweden.

Liechenstien: Lotta Vogal— I like em both. Not super sure how correct in origin or popular Lotta is as I keep getting mixed results, often talking about Scandinavian origin and bringing up the name Lottie and how popular that is in America. But it does mention how its used in German speaking countries.

South Italy: Lorenzo— Its from both Italy and Spain so I think it fits Romano well. The meaning not so much but Romano probably picked it because that's how he'd like to see himself one day??

Rome: Gaius Vergilius Crispus— The praenomen Gaius comes from the same root as gaudere, which means to rejoyce, happy which fits Rome to a T. His nomen is Virgilius as a reference to poet Publius Vergilius Maro(Virgil). Crispus as his cognomen because of his curly hair. I wanted Romulus to be his praenomen, however Romulus is not a praenomen whatsoever. It seems to be a nomen. I'm quite fond of Virgilius though to be honest. I actually had to deep dive this one to make sure everything was correct(meaning and order). The praenomen are the given names and those weren't normally used outside of the family(meaning only Romano and Italy would call Rome Gaius). Rather it was either their nomen or cognomen used freely. So I had to keep the importance of each name in mind; I couldn't really find the meaning behind Virgilius except that it is the latinized version of the english Virgil.

Seborga: Alonzo— Finally found a name for Seborga that I think fits better than Romeo! Well I'm still not sure of it for the long run but it does fit better than Romeo at least(in my opinion).

Italies' surname: Russo— Not super sure of this one. Its Sicilan/Southern Italian in origin but quick google searches repeatedly tell me that it has spread to other regions due to internal migration. It's also the second most popular surname in Italy(or that's at least what several sites have told me). I'm not sure if Russo is a good name for all three of the Italy brothers, but I do think its at least a plausible one for Romano. And as Romano is the older brother, perhaps Veneziano just took it some time after unification? Maybe to try and feel closer to the brother he barely grew up with?

Greece's surname: Katsaros— I dunno about this one still. But curly-haired is at least better than being a watermelon. Might change later, might not.

Cyprus: Demetris Georgiou— Not super sure about his name as a whole. Nicos is an alternative given name. Not sure about an alternative surname.

America's middle name: Fitzgerald— Its speculated that the F in his name is a reference to John F. Kennedy(or its Freedom). John F. Kennedy's middle name is Fitzgerald. There you have it. Actually, I honestly didn't know JFK's middle name was Fitzgerald beforehand, I kinda just really liked Fitzgerald as America's middle name already. Then I went into looking up the name's origin and meaning and google just handed this fact to me kinda randomly. Either way, I really do like the ring Alfred Fitzgerald Jones has.

Australia: Kyle King— I just like the name Kyle for him. It sounds nice. No deep reason for choosing Kyle. King, however, I feel like he might have chosen to like say fuck you to England after abandoning him? Like I'm the King now?? I'm in control?? From what I've seen on a few sites, King is a fairly common surname. Also considering Martin or Walker as alternative options.

New Zealand: James Brown— He looks like a James so he is a James. According forebears.io, Brown is the 4th most common surname in New Zealand. I'm not super sold on this surname yet but I do quite like the combination of it with James.

Wy: Charlotte "Charlie"— She gives off a lot of tomboyish vibes to me so I wanted to give her a kinda "boyish" nickname that Australia most likely started. Well it just so happens that Charlotte is a pretty popular name in Australia! She shares Australia's surname.

Hutt River: David— He just looks like a David. Plain and simple. Shares a surname with Australia. Despite being dissolved, I still like his character(and design) so I refuse to acknowledge him being dead lmao.

Molossia: Maximilian "Max" Theodore Jones— I picked a kinda flashy name for him because I tried to think like him while choosing it. He looks up to America. America is often flashy and exaggerated. What better way than to get your mentor's attention than by a name like Maximilian?? And I simply thought Theodore would be a good correlation to the middle name I gave America; they're both references to US presidents(Theodore Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy).

Kugelmugel: Tobias— No super deep reason. Its common in Austria in the year(or close to) when was he founded. I think Austria isn't super creative when naming things or people so he picked something common. Kugel probably does not care.

Osaka: Honda Tetsuya— I think he'd share Japan's surname rather than having his own. As for his given name, I chose something pretty common in Japan as a whole. I'm not sure about this choice, however.

Niko Niko Republic: Takahashi Shigeru— Again, picked common names. I didn't think he'd share Japan's surname, especially after dissolving. I thought maybe he'd like his very own name as he chooses his very own life to live out into old age y'know? Not totally confident in these name choices, however.

Monaco: Jules— I'm debating whether I personally like her having the same surname as France or not. I haven't found any alternative surnames yet as I'm not really dwelling on it. Jules, however, I think fits her pretty well.

Holy Roman Empire: Otto— Reference to Otto I, the Holy Roman Emperor, as well as Otto von Bismarck to kinda correlate the Germany-HRE theory(whether I 100% believe it not).

I'm honestly considering giving Germany a different surname than Beilschmidt since he was never given one by Hima in the first place(even stated there was a reason for that). I'm not sure if I will or not because I'm still looking into surnames for HRE, which I'm having a hard time doing so if I'm honest. Its harder than picking Rome's tria nomina lol.

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“In February 1924, Illustreret Fagblad for danske Damefrisorer, one of the leading trade journals for Danish women's hairdressers, reported that short haircuts for women were becoming increasingly common throughout most of Europe. Although the trend had not yet reached Denmark, it was likely to do so, the journal predicted, since "we have seen within the last couple of months the first signs of .. . shorn hair here in Copenhagen." The prediction proved correct. In July 1925, Ugens Spejl, another trade journal, reported that the new fashion was spreading "like fire in old houses." That same year, the president of the Ladies' Hairdressers Association estimated that 25 percent of Copenhagen's female population had their hair cut short.

The following year, one Copenhagen barber claimed that no less than 75 percent of women under the age of 30 had adopted the new styles, leading the editor of yet another trade journal, Danmarks Barber-og Frisortidende to conclude that "there is something almost epidemically contagious about the advancing shingling. Each and everyone who lets her locks fall for the scissors immediately draws four or five others with her." Although contemporaries may have exaggerated the numbers, contemporary street photography and surviving photo albums suggest that a significant number of young women did in fact dispose of their long hair in the second half of the 1920s.

It is also telling that no fewer than 48 of the 59 women interviewed for this project recalled having their hair cut short before 1930. As Anne Bruun explained many years later, "That was just what you did. If you were young and wanted to be in style, that was definitely the look. Anybody who wanted to be up-to-date did that." Helene Berg agreed. "Short hair made you look chic, made you look modern," she claimed. Besides, as Louise Ege pointed out, short hair "kind of fit with the other things that were fashionable. Short dresses and all that." But despite their enthusiasm for the new hairstyles, actually acquiring one of the fashionable bobs was not always easy. While the number of beauty salons had been growing since the turn of the century, women's hairdressers generally shied away from providing their female customers with the short haircuts they desired.

For decades women's hairdressers had worked hard to create a respectable female profession by promoting themselves as specialists in hygiene and conventional feminine beauty, an accomplishment they were not willing to sacrifice by embracing the controversial new styles. Moreover, since most hairdressers were only used to working with combs, brushes, and curlers, few were actually competent to cut hair. As a result, many women had to enter male barbershops to have their hair cut, a step many took with considerable trepidation. The difficulties of finding a stylist both willing and able to cut a woman's hair was not the only obstacle to a fashionable appearance. Many fathers and husbands explicitly prohibited the new styles. Others let their disapproval be known more indirectly.

As Magda Gammelgaard Jensen recalled, "I really wanted to get my hair [cut] short, but I didn't know how to go about it. It wasn't so easy when there was a man around." According to Mr. H. M. Christensen, the president of the Danish Grooming, Toilet and Sanitary Workers' Union, many women therefore chose to "have their hair cut at a time when their husbands and fathers [were] not at home." Outside the private sphere, other forces also strove to contain "that unfortunate tendency among young ladies to shear their hair." Some workplaces openly discriminated against women who adhered to the new fashion. Several prominent department stores did not hire women who sported the new hairstyles. Others fired employees after a visit to the hairdresser.

In 1924, the personnel director at Crome & Goldschmidt, one of the leading clothing stores in Copenhagen, flatly declared that he "would absolutely not engage or employ any young woman with bobbed hair." Other businesses had similar policies. The president of Salomon David Jr. Inc., Inger Diemer, explained that she had "banned bobbed hair." "I demand," she continued, "that the women who work with us, sign [a contract] that they will not wear short hair. In my mind, that is not proper in an old, highly esteemed firm." The director of Bispebjerg Hospital, Charlotte Munck, also banned short hair for all nurses under her supervision.

Even women in less publicly visible occupations faced ostracism if they chose to adopt the modern styles. Inger Mangart, for example, who worked as a part-time cleaning assistant in a private home in the late 1920s, recalled being dismissed the first day she arrived with short hair. The press was equally adamant in its stance against the new styles. To discourage young women from following fashion, newspapers and popular magazines delighted in sensationalist stories about domestic turmoil caused by short hair. Divorces, physical abuse, family disintegration, and even murders were described as tragic, but predictable, outcomes of women's changed appearances.

Assuming, however, that young women were more likely to follow fashion prescription than sensible guidance, journalists and other commentators figured that the most efficient way to combat the modern styles was simply to declare them unfashionable. "Bobbed hair is no longer in style," one beauty advice columnist thus warned as early as 1922, several years before the new styles hit Denmark. "We hardly have to repeat that bobbed hair has already received the death sentence abroad," another fashion expert claimed that same year. "There is no doubt that this fad, the short hair, is coming to an end," Ugebladet asserted a couple of years later, and in 1925, B.T. was pleased to report that "all countries now agree that the fashion of short hair is finally on the retreat."

Yet despite these elaborate efforts to suppress the new haircuts, women's enthusiasm did not wane. Many critics therefore felt compelled to explain the dangers of the new styles in the hope that young women would be swayed by their arguments. Some journalists and beauty advice columnists sought to discourage young women from having their hair cut through use of the kind of racist imagery that permeated early twentieth century European culture. By labeling the new styles "Hottentot hair" or "Apache cuts," they strove to impress upon young women the incompatibility of short hair with refined Western womanhood. "Surely, no young lady wants to look like a monkey," one reporter thus argued, apparently hoping that young women would recognize the similarity between women's short hair and animal fur.

Other observers claimed that short hair simply made women look ugly and unattractive. Cutting one's hair was therefore inevitably at the risk of losing "the man's admiration and desire." Although some men admitted that a short-haired woman might serve "as a drinking buddy," those who participated in the public debate all insisted that the new styles did not mix with marriage and motherhood, implying that short-haired women could expect to live out their lives as spinsters and old maids— an argument that presumably would dissuade any young woman from such reckless behavior. While most female critics tended to focus on the aesthetic aspects of the new styles, it was quite different considerations that fueled much of the vehement male opposition.

Like many other people in the early twentieth century, these commentators believed there was a direct correlation between external appearance and internal self. When a woman cut her hair, she was not only defying conventional standards of femininity but was also prone to develop some of those mental traits that usually characterized people with short hair—namely, men. As Ludvig Brandt-Meller, a male hairdresser who opposed the new styles, explained, "Short hair tends to emancipate the woman. It is as if it affects her psychologically." Others found that short-haired women became "like men in character and gestures," insisting that "that 99 out of 100 women with short hair have simultaneously acquired boyish or mannish manners."'

A few alarmists saw even greater dangers ahead. The very act of cutting a woman's hair, they argued, would eventually alter a woman's biological constitution and turn her into a man. Believing that the mass of hair on a human body was constant, some argued that short hair would necessarily cause women to grow beards. Others predicted the advent of female baldness. "The evidence is right there, since 60 percent of all men over forty [who presumably had cut their hair since childhood] are bald, while less than 0.1 percent of all women [who had never previously cut their hair] suffer from this weakness," another critic of the new styles explained.

While men had tended to object to short dresses because they rendered women too attractive, their reactions to short hair were therefore quite different. According to male critics, short hair "emancipated" women and made then unwomanly, even masculine, and not attractive enough, a violation of gender norms that seemed to them much graver and ultimately more unpleasant than women being overly sexy and seductive. Even those who did not necessarily believe that short hair would actually turn women into men found this quite disturbing because, as one correspondent wrote to the editor of the newspaper B.T. in 1925, "If there is something we men cannot stand, it is precisely women void of femininity. "

Young women's seeming disregard of men's opinions about the new styles only made matters worse. Apparently, young women were no longer pursuing physical beauty and style for the purposes of male pleasure and admiration. How, then, were men to understand women's enthusiasm for short hair as anything but a sign that women cared less about male approval than about their own "emancipation"? Some even feared that the popularity of the new styles might indicate an explicit sexual and emotional detachment from men. In comparison with those who defended short dresses when they first appeared, supporters of the new hairstyles were therefore faced with a much more difficult task.

The opposition to women's short hair was much fiercer than the opposition to short dresses had ever been, as short hair connoted emancipation, female defiance, and rebellion against men's judgment in a way that short skirts never had. During this entire controversy, the voices of women who cut their hair were rarely heard in public. Under heavy fire, most young women seemingly preferred to avoid the discursive battles that raged around them. On the few occasions that any of these women did speak up, they generally adopted a very cautious stance, seeking to diffuse the opposition by reassuring critics of their whole-hearted commitment to femininity and respectable womanhood.

In 1925, one young woman who described herself as "old-fashioned" despite her short hair thus sought to counter criticisms of the new styles by denying that there was any link between appearance and identity. "Why in the world should a young girl not be equally feminine and good whether she has bobbed hair or long hair?," she wondered. "It does, after all, not change the nature of the young girl to have her hair cut off." More often, young women simply tried to skirt criticisms by emphasizing the very pragmatic concerns that allegedly had led them to the barbershop. "Much can be said both for and against the bobbed hair, but the fact that it is a practical way of wearing one's hair, nobody can deny," one woman argued.

Nonetheless, the relative silence on the part of the women who wore the new hairstyles did not mean that no voices were raised in their defense. Complicating the picture of vocal male opponents and a largely silent group of female supporters, the chief public advocates of short hair for women in the 1920s were in fact male barbers. Not that barbers were a particularly fashion-conscious bunch or especially committed to young women's right to determine their own appearance. These men simply saw the new styles as a means to propel their profession out of the crisis in which it had lingered for decades.

The rise of the medical and dental professions had dealt the first blow to the former surgeon-barbers, eliminating what had been the most profitable areas of their occupation. Later, when men began to shave themselves rather than frequenting the barber twice or three times weekly, the financial base of most barbershops had been further undercut, and scattered attempts at cultivating new areas of business expertise such as facial massage and manicure had contributed only little to their economy.

In this context, the fashionable new styles for women seemed a god-send for barbers eager to cultivate both a new clientele and new sources of income, and since women's hairdressers generally opposed the short hairstyles and most often refused to cut women's hair, barbers were left with the uncontested responsibility for providing young women with the look they desired. Of course, barbers were not oblivious to the offense women's short hair provoked or the wrath they might incur by accommodating female customers.

It was therefore in their own best interest to counter the opposition, and toward that end they adopted the same strategy that fashion advocates had successfully used a few years earlier, namely, to attempt to disassociate short hair from any kind of subversive intentions on the part of women. Short hair, they insisted, had nothing to do with defiance of feminine conventions or even modern fashions. It was a style adopted for reasons of comfort, ease, and practicality only. "It is not the senseless mimicking of fashion follies that has led women to allow their hair to be cut off," one barber thus insisted in 1926. "Rather, it is the natural development in all social strata that has forced the women to choose a practical hairstyle."

To give credibility to this claim, barbers traced the origins of women's short hair not to feminist rebels or decadent fashions, but to that highly respectable, self-sacrificing female heroine, Florence Nightingale. "When a war begins," one writer explained, "masses of younger and older women who wish to be nurses in the army immediately sign up. The healthiest among them are selected, and the first step on the road to their new vocation is to cut their hair as short as men's, first, because the daily care takes too long time, and secondly, because a nurse cannot run around with a zoo of carnivores [sicl] in her long hair." Upon their return, the reasoning continued, admirers adopted similar hair styles.

Although there was little historical evidence to support such an explanation—after all, Florence Nightingale's reputation had been established during the Crimean War almost three quarters of a century earlier, and few women had followed her example in the intervening years ��this argument had several advantages. First, it disassociated short hair from any kind of female defiance. Second, it sought to ground the popularity of the new hairstyles in admirable, patriotic concerns. And third, it tied short hair to notions of health and hygiene. From the mid-1920s, particularly the latter, combined with arguments about the practical requirements of the labor market, formed the core in the defense of women's short hair.

In addition, barbers also sought to address anxieties over the seeming dissipation of gender differences by calling attention to the cultural and historical versatility of hair styles. In an article entitled "Masculine Girl Hair and Feminine Boy Hair," the author set out to prove that "women have not been 'the long-haired sex' for as long as we believe." A sampling of Greek, Roman, and Persian traditions led him to conclude that "long hair appears just as frequently on men as on women when one examines history, which is why hair has nothing whatsoever to do with sexual character."

Just as long hair did not make men less masculine, short hair would not eradicate women's femininity. In fact, some argued, it held the potential of actually heightening it by drawing attention to women's fine facial features. "The shape of the face, the beauty of the skin, as well as the soft lines of the neck" were accentuated by short hair, one barber wrote, poetically comparing a woman's face to a "painting [that] is also seen more clearly in a simple frame." In the case of modern dresses, fashion advocates had gradually managed to convince most critics of their compatibility with conventional womanhood. Short hair fared differently.

Short, simple haircuts for women never gained acceptance in the 1920s, at least not among the men and women who publicly expressed their opinions. The controversy over women's hair only died down at the end of the decade, when a new, modified style of short hair became popular. Ironically, this new short style, which eventually appeased critics, emerged from the beauty salon run by women's hairdressers. Having been entirely unsuccessful in their attempts to coax women into preserving their long hair and eager to regain some of the professional territory lost to barbers, women's hairdressers found themselves forced to dispense with their rejection of the short fashions.

Still unwilling, however, to embrace the bobbed look, they devised a new strategy. Arguing that short hair unfortunately had been "carried to extremes... by the less cultivated segments of the female population" and was sported by "each and every factory and shop-girl," (middle-class) women were offered a chance to distinguish themselves as "finer ladies" through "feminine and graceful styles with curls and waves" while they were waiting for their hair to grow out again. By fashioning themselves as aides to women concerned with the reestablishment of their femininity and by presenting their care for short hair as a form of damage control, hairdressers were able to legitimize their growing interest in women's new hairstyles.

With relatively few ideological scruples they were therefore able to plunge into this profitable market during the last years of the 1920s, gradually recapturing the patronage of most women. However, that women left the barbershop and (re)turned to the beauty salon did not indicate that long hair was regaining its popularity. Fashionable hairstyles for women remained short for the rest of the decade. What did change was the way short hair actually looked. Female hairdressers, one fashion columnist noted with applause, did "everything to give the short style a more feminine air than earlier."

Permanent waves and curls, artificial hair pieces, decorative combs, ribbons, and barrettes all contributed to this goal. This new, feminized version of short hair quickly gained popularity among women interested in variation and possibly weary of public hostility. Within just a few years the original simple, straight styles had virtually been abandoned. Customers, one hairdresser noted with pleasure in 1927, now wanted "to become more feminine, not with completely long hair, but with longer short hair, enough to be curly in the back and around the face .. . so that the repulsive boyish head becomes beautified and more feminine."

Thus, after a brief but troubling intermission where women's adoption of short hair seemed to be blurring gender differences, new curlier versions of bobbed hair marked the reestablishment of gender distinctions in fashionable self-presentation. Even though women continued to cut their hair, the clear stylistic differences between short hair for men and short hair for women soothed critics, and gradually their opposition faded. With their confidence in the stability of sexual difference restored, some of the harshest opponents were even able to admit a few years later that they actually found short hair quite charming and attractive—if not on their wives, then at least on their daughters.”

- Birgitte Soland, “The Emergence of the Modern Look.” in Becoming Modern: Young Women and the Reconstruction of Womanhood in the 1920s

#becoming modern #birgitte soland #danish #fashion #hair #1920s #history

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freyaeu · 4 years ago

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HALSTON SAGE. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, FREYA ANDERSON-SMITH is actually a descendent of K H I O N E. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-FOUR year old KINESIOLOGY MAJOR from COPENHAGEN, DENMARK has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite GRACEFUL & SHELTERED.

hello, hello, beautiful friends ! i still need to figure out more things for freya but here’s her bio which i should have really just really written out bc i said it’d be short and sweet and my brain said, i think not ! anyway, i’m super excited to plot with everyone ♡

she knows that there was an entirely different life that she led before she was taken in by her adoptive father, she just doesn’t remember much of it.

memories come back in snippets — like the little cottage nestled in the mountains with the beautiful lake up the hill. or man with the warm smile who she called papa. she remembers the tea parties during the summer and snowball fights in the winters. but most of all, she can still hear the sound of ice crackling beneath her feet as she tried to run across the lake before falling in. how cold she felt as her body hit the water before she felt embraced by the icy temperature and everything turned black.

that aside, her ‘earliest’ memory is being cradling by khione. her icy skin providing comfort as she mused about a brand new life in a place far from the one she had known so far with a new father and a brother who would love her very much. ( the latter is to be debated ).

‘a gift’ was what she called freya when she introduced her to her new family. the hold khione still had over alexander anderson-smith being one so powerful that he didn’t even question who the small child hiding behind khione’s leg was or where she came from. he welcomed her with open arms, believing that the goddess still loved him because why else would he have entrusted her with another demigod?

while she had an extremely affluent upbringing, she didn’t rot from how spoiled she was. she always remained levelheaded, never letting such a luxurious life get to her head. perhaps because of this, she was always seen as the ‘white sheep’ — she was soft like snow, not cold as ice. while her entire family ( goddess mother included ) used whatever mean was necessary to stay on top, freya was always perfectly fine just being freya.

along with her brother, she grew up in one of copenhagen’s most elite hotels — the penthouse, to be exact, and one rarely spent any time in. while to others, the most luxurious suite in the hotel would have been anyone’s dream getaway, to her it resembled a very fancy prison cell.

instead, she’d often sneak out as a kid, watching from afar at the different gala’s that would take place in the ballroom or sneaking into the hotel kitchen for a snack. as the daughter of the hotel’s owner, there was nothing anyone could to stop her. especially considering how much of a daddy’s girl she was. freya may not have done or said anything had anyone complained but it didn’t mean alexander wouldn’t have had reacted badly.

as she grew older, her adventures in the hotel became more specific. spending hours on end learning how to cook from the best chef’s around to spending her time working on homework next to the concierge’s desk as she waited for guests to walk up for suggestions of the best places around town.

the older she got, the more people whispered about her in disapproval. she was the ‘weird’ girl who stayed after social events to help the staff out, the one who at parties sat in the corner of the room with a book stuck in her nose, the one who didn’t care about status or reputation.

while she participated in things like the debutante ball and summer camp, she only did so to please her father. as much as he wanted her to be as cutthroat as nicolai, there was an unspoken understanding that freya was interested in marching at the beat of her own drum and doing things her way.

this became evident when he pushed them to start properly developing and advancing their powers. freya, being a child, didn’t take things seriously. it was the first time and last time he ever made her cry and the only time he took the treasure chest full of books she cherished away.

by the time khione came back once again demanding they get proper training, freya was curious to say the least. camp with other demigod kids? it sounded cool enough. which it definitely was though her interests aligned more with learning as much as she could about the camp and other gods rather than training.

shortly after freya’s arrival, the two demigod’s gained a step-mom and their mutual dislike for the woman is perhaps one of the very few things they have in common til this day. freya can’t stand her. while she chooses to look the other way in regards to her father and nicolai’s behavior, the same can’t be said for her. she may not approve of how they act but love and blood connects her to them. the step-mom? no connection there.

while she excelled academically, the same couldn’t be said about her social life. despite the influence her father had, not even he could save her from falling to the bottom of the social food chain. her indifference toward the status she had due to her last name caused many to be both envious and dumbfounded at how she didn’t take advantage of it. she was pretty and rich, why didn’t she care?

the answer to that was simple, she had better things to do — when alexander came up with the idea to create a training center for his kiddos, he included a rink because children of the goddess of ice and snow~~ well, to no one’s surprise, that caught freya’s interest. despite the traumatic ( and mainly repressed ) event that happened on the ice, freya absolutely loved being on the ice. at first, it became her incentive to train, being able to spends hours afterward skating around the rink. then, alexander noticed her talent, bringing in the best coaches money could ensure she’d become the absolute best.

what started out as a fun pastime turned competitive soon after with freya spending hours in the rink, diving her time between figure skating and school. when she wasn’t training or competing, she was studying.

it wasn’t long before she became one of the most promising individual junior skaters, always placing within the top five and very easily a fan favorite. by the time she hit senior-level, it was evident that she was on her way to the olympics.

she made it as far as placing silver two years in a row in the world championships before it all came crashing down. after performing the best she’d ever done, she ( and everyone else ) were sure she’d take gold in the ladies individual’s section. to her absolute shock, she didn’t and highkey had a mini freakout moment with her ire directed at the gold medalist who she believed stole her spot. it was the one time she used her powers intentionally to hurt a mortal. the girl was fine in the end but freya still feels absolutely bad about it. she retired that same year and decided to focus on academics instead.

which is how she ended up at eonia. it was definitely a huge adjustment at first. not only did she let go of something she’d done for a little over ten years but she also said goodbye to the home she’d known since she was four. it took a second for her to settle but in the end, she found herself straying away from the sheltered routine she’d grown so accustomed from.

at least that’s what she tells herself. honestly, while she did spread her wings a little more in terms of discovering new things, she’s stuck to the same routine upon finding her rhythm. she’s extremely predictable like that.

she’s currently a graduate student in the medicine program and completed her undergrad in chemistry.

#euintro

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kickassviv · 5 years ago

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Pernille Harder: "I first dared to say that I would be the best in the world when I got away from Denmark"

Danish national team leader Pernille Harder was only a fan of the women's soccer World Cup. However, due to her high profile on and off the field, she left her mark on the tournament. Berlingske has met her for a conversation about love, homophobia, the fight for equality and the ambition to become the best in the world. And about two parties that got the national team leader out of the chair.

Credit to @magdaerikssons for the article and disclaimer, google translate was used to translate into English.

Is there a Danish "Liebes-Spionin", a love spy who helps the Swedish women's team against a victory?

That's how the German newspaper "Bild" speculated about the Danish national team leader and Wolfsburg player Pernille Harder in the heat during the just over the World Cup in women's football in France.

The newspaper had noted that the "Bundesliga's best player with a good knowledge of Germany" was constantly found among the Swedish players because of the girlfriend and defender Magdalena Eriksson. Eriksson plays daily for the London club Chelsea.

Two days before Berlingske meets Harder in the French city of Rennes, a picture of her and her boyfriend, both wearing Swedish national team jerseys, went viral on social media, not least in South America:

“It's a little crazy. I've gained 10,000 new followers on Instagram and I haven't even posted the picture myself. Many are from South America. I don't know what it is about homophobia down there, but it obviously means a lot of two female soccer players openly dare to show their love, ”says Harder, who also notes that she has lost no followers because of the picture.

It's 38 degrees hot, and the blue-and-yellow fans are trying to hide in the shade of bars and cafes before heading out to the stadium where the double world champion Germany, with some of Harder's teammates, waits.

Commander's Tour de France as the roe Instead of just being upset that it missed out on Denmark's participation, Harder has been taken to the World Cup as a Swedish roigan. The qualification smoked on the floor, among other things, as Denmark, due to a conflict between the national team and DBU, could not place teams against Sweden in the fall of 2017 and therefore lost 3-0 at the desk.

Now, instead, she is undertaking her own personal Tour de France in cities such as Nice, Paris, Rennes and Lyon. To support her girlfriend, who otherwise beat Denmark in the World Cup qualification, and to become smarter in her sport:

“It gives me another perspective to be here as a fan. I sense what the football gives off the field to all the fans. When you play a final round, you don't think so much about it off the field. But now I realize how big it all has become with fan march, etc., and that makes me want to put even more heart into it on the track in the future, "says the 26-year-old star, while the Swedish fans agree a new kind of song.

Harder and Eriksson have been together for five years. The Dane has not been exposed to homophobia or hate emails herself, but decided in the spring of 2019 to go actively into the debate on homophobia. This happened after FCK star Viktor Fischer was met by homophobic calls.

In a broadcast on TV 2, Harder openly talked about how she had previously fallen in love with a guy, but fell for Magdalena when they both played in Linköping:

'I didn't really think much about it. It just came very naturally. You have to be with the one you love. I have always felt that if there is something I want, then I do it and do not go into what other people think. And then I also have a good family that totally doesn't care who I love, just like it is pretty normal in the women's soccer world, "says the Wolfsburg player.

According to Harder, in the men's football »a front figure is missing. There are certainly gay and bisexual men in men's soccer too, but they obviously dare not stand out because the tone is different in the dressing room and among the fans. That is a sorry trend. You have to be proud of the one you love '.

More edge in women's football Courage to step up in the homophobia debate, Pernille Harder shares with female U.S. national team leader Megan Rapinoe, who up to the World Cup declared that her team would not accept an invitation from President Donald Trump if they returned home with the World Cup trophy. In addition, Trump was too homophobic and condescending to women:

"There are several in women's football who dare to have an opinion, although that may not be the opinion that other people think one should have. And so it gives something more edge. After all, not one of the really big men's team players actually does. Maybe just with the exception of Zlatan, ”Harder points out. Swedish Zlatan Ibrahimović has, among other things, commented on the Swedish immigration debate.

A party in Basel In addition to the fight against homophobia, Harder's main theme is gender equality. And here we are approaching the canceled match against Sweden and the football conflict with DBU.

Instead of looking back at the conflict, Harder first takes a mental detour to Switzerland. In 2018, the FC Basel football club held an anniversary party that got Harder out of the chair.

Before the party, the club had decided that the gentlemen should attend a gala party with a three-course menu, while their female counterparts were asked to sell the ticket and were literally eaten off with a sandwich:

“It's incredible that it can still occur today. But that's why it's so important that we have enough self-respect to say. And that women know what value we have. If we don't, they just do it again. And that is exactly why we had to take that fight with DBU, 'says Harder.

Similarly, Harder and teammates from Wolfsburg said when the club in 2017 asked the women's team to postpone their championship party until it became clear if the club's men's team avoided relegation.

When the women's team won "The Double" again the following year, no-one was thinking of issuing a ban - even if the men again fought relegation.

The conflict between the national team and the DBU was primarily about the remuneration of the women's team players. A sub-agreement between DBU and the Players' Association was landed in October 2017. But negotiations are soon on a long-term agreement, so that the national team is in control if Denmark should be able to arrange the European Championships in 2025 at home.

And here too the national team leader is ready to make demands. However, she fully agrees that in the future there will also be a difference between women's and men's salaries and bonus schemes, simply because Denmark does not have a women's league that can afford to pay the domestic players sufficiently in salary.

This is why DBU has to step in with scholarships, and then "there is something else you can't get," Harder points out.

The decisive point, however, is not the money, but that the national teams - regardless of gender - must have the same conditions for all the matches:

“Now just take the planes. Now we have to go to Georgia soon and play the European Championship qualifier. It is such a match that we risk playing a draw and thus lose important points to qualify for the European Championships in England. So it's mega important. But we are definitely traveling over there with two stops where we have to get up at 05:00 in the morning. DBU should, therefore, charter an aircraft. After all, they do this to the gentlemen, and so does the German and Swedish Football Federation for their wives, ”Harder points out.

Of other differences, the leader mentions that, unlike the gentlemen, the women travel without a cook and only occasionally have a volunteer analyst who can help understand and illustrate the tactics of the opponents. According to Harder, it is also not OK that the national team has only 18, and not 23, players with:

"It's a problem when we have to play 11 against 11. Then the physical therapist has to get into the field. There, I think we can demand equality and that it must be completely the same regardless of gender. And it's not, ”Harder points out.

The conflict was not the main problem Although the conflict is still filling, it is definitely not the whole story of why Denmark is not on the field in France:

“We simply weren't ready physically after the summer holidays in 2018, when we were going to play against Croatia and Sweden. Before the two matches went well. But we have learned from that and have now got a new physical trainer in Peter Krustrup. "

Harder is also confident that Peter Møller's new director of football, Peter Møller, will address the women's case to the DBU board.

She is aiming for Denmark to qualify for the European Championships in England in 2021, just as she hopes that Denmark can secure the European Championships in 2025:

"It will be crazy for Danish football, but we can learn something from them down here about how to set up fan zones and use modern, hard-hitting discos rather than always horn music for the matches," the national team leader says.

Although the level in France is high, Harder is not intimidated on behalf of Danish women's soccer: “We have a good team, and now we work with physics. This is where we need to put in. We are already fully involved in the technical, football and tactical aspects. "

According to the leader, a number of new talented players are also emerging, such as Emma Snerle from Fortuna Hjørring.

Harder welcomes the high viewership of the World Cup, which has seriously given women's football its popular breakthrough. In England, the fight against the United States was the most-watched TV show of 2019:

"I also don't understand if people can't see the exciting thing in eg. the battle between France and the United States. There are 40,000 at the stadium, high pace, chances, and fighter will. Now I have also seen men's football at the stadium several times, so it is not because I think 'hold it up, where does it go 100 times stronger', 'notes Harder.

Football camp in Ikast As we speak, several fans pass by in national team jerseys with women's names on their backs and no longer just men's stars such as Mbappé, Messi and Müller.

As a child, Harder had only one possible role model, Brazilian Marta, but it was now United gentlemen David Beckham and Ryan Giggs who hung in the children's room. Back in the nineties and nineties, there was also no opportunity to attend a girls' soccer camp.

That's the main explanation that, a few years ago, Harder and her sister and cousin decided to start a girls soccer camp:

“I want to pass on some of what I have learned both on and off the field. I even train the girls some of the time and give presentations. And this year I also had my mental trainer who gave parents some tips on how to be good parents. "

The world's best is the goal In 2018, Pernille Harder was named the second best Danish footballer ever to be Europe's best. The first to achieve this honor was Allan Simonsen in 1977. But despite the lack of World Cup, the goal remains to be the world's best footballer.

“I know it might not be very Danish with the Janet Act and all that. And I also dared to say it out loud first when I moved away from Denmark. But why is it so dangerous to say that I want to be the best in the world? One must dare to put words into one's dreams. And the worst thing that can happen is only that I don't reach it, but then I have pushed myself to do my utmost. "

The dream, which she first put into words when she came to Sweden, was born in Ikast. “Recently, I found a style that I wrote when I was ten years old. And there I wrote that I would be the world's best in ten years, 'says Harder.

The road over there is provisionally over Wolfsburg, where this year the club has invested in five to six new players to be able to conquer the Champions League trophy, which lost after another defeat to Lyon.

But Harder, whose contract expires in 2021, is open to trying her hand at a new country and league - also to learn a new language.

"German is doing very well," laughs Harder and continues:

"Although I do not always have a say in whether the pronoun should come in the middle or at the end."

During the World Cup, there have been rumors that Real Madrid are looking for the striker. As one of the last major clubs in Spain, the "king's club" now also enters women's soccer. Before the World Cup, the women's match between Barcelona and Atlético Madrid set a spectator record in Spain with over 60,000 on the limbs.

“We must say that both Denmark and Germany are behind. In England and Spain, they are targeting a professional league, where big men's clubs also invest in women's soccer. It would be optimal if we also did it at home. But it is clear that e.g. FC Midtjylland does not have as much money as Manchester United, so it will cost in the beginning, 'says Harder, pointing to FC North Zealand as a men's club, which is now also focusing on women's football.

On the team with Magdalena? A new club change could also open for the girlfriend couple Harder and Eriksson to put an end to the long-distance relationship, which is, however, facilitated by a direct flight connection from Hanover to London:

“Right now we are each running our own race. But we are about to be where we can again play on the same team. Defenders are slowing down a bit, but Magdalena has become one of the key players on Chelsea's team entering the Champions League semi-final, "Harder points out.

If the pair are on the same club team, there will also be no danger of the relationship being put to the test in a Champions League match between Chelsea and Wolfsburg:

“None of us can stand to lose. I want to win everything. Also in ludo against children. And so will Magda. If she loses cards to me, she won't talk to me for the rest of the day, 'says Harder, laughing.

But in France, the couple both get something to laugh at. Magda and the other Swedish players secure a bronze medal at the World Cup. Yet another image of the couple kissing each other goes around the world. Although Pernille Harder has not been on the field, much has been noticed by the Dane during the World Cup.

#pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #denmark wnt #hardersson

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deadinsidedressage · 5 years ago

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Have you watched the great? How "sometimes true" is it?

Hi so first of all I took a muscle relaxer because I've pulled a muscle in my back so this might loose coherence.

Most of what I saw of it in trailers was inaccurate.

It seems they're trying to model Peter III more like the infamous very "Russian" antics of Peter I (Peter the Great) instead of having any accurate portrayal of him.

Peter III did not speak Russian as a first language or even with any fluency at the time Catherine was married to him. His mother was the daughter of Peter the Great but his father was a German duke whose family was ruling Denmark at the time. As such, Peter III was very non-Russian. He self-identified as German and his mother was part of the wave of "Western educated" nobles that greatly destabilized Russia. For one, many Russian nobles such as Catherine Petronova (Peter III's mom) spoke French as a first language, German as a second, and then finally maybe Russian as a third. Peter the Great had sought to bring Western innovations to make Russia a stronger nation but instead the royal families of Western Europe took this invitation to engage with Russia (and literally engage Russian nobles) as a way in which to slowly break the nation down. If you can marry their royals with your royals... well suddenly everyone is a German noble and you can successfully consolidate power under one European empire. Do make note that Peter the Great would have absolutely loathed Peter III and his father Charles Frederick. The entire reason we got Peter III in power in the first place was because while Peter the Great fucked (2 wives, 14 kids) he didn't successfully fuck enough to have a son outlive him to rule--- and precisely that he wasn't dying fast enough was why his eldest son Alexei briefly fucked off to Austria (so I mean no throne for you) before dying (mmmm dying from torture basically at the hands of his dad lol).

Peter the Great's immediate successor was Catherine I (his wife) as Russian has generally always operated under Tsar & Tsarina "co-rule"--- debatable how involves most tsarinas are while their husband lives but does set the precedent that should the Tsar die his wife will rule until the next in succession is old enough to take over. Catherine's death then put into power Empress Elizabeth (Peter I's eldest daughter) who by all historical accounts was a pretty solid Tsarina. Well though some stupid people will tell you Elizabeth had to stage a coup to gain power from 2 month old Ivan VI, son of her uncle Ivan V who had once upon a time co-ruled with Peter the Great before dying (possibly purposefully assassinated by his brother). Ivan V was entirely blind and senile by age 27... It was assumed that either Ivan VI would inherent these traits OR was actually illigitimate--- Ivan V was... Perhaps never all there enough to consummate his marriage. At any rate, Elizabeth had Ivan VI moved to a secure palace where he'd be allowed to live out his life under strict orders for him to be killed should anyone ever try and use him as a tool in a coup. It was the 1700s what do you want from me.

Elizabeth was Peter the Great's eldest daughter and was assumed even before Alexei's death to have some potential as a successor--- as such her education reflected it. It wasn't uncommon at all for the Russian throne to go to the eldest sister of a Tsar if he was childless, so eldest daughters were often given special tutors. She successfully navigated the War of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War. Unfortunately, her fiancé died before her marriage AND as she was unmarried & at the time childless she could not gain a husband before her mother died and she took the throne. Yeah dudes in 1727 sucked ass and were like lmao an UNMARRIED, CHILDLESS EMPRESS OF RUSSIA??? 0/10 unfuckable her nephew is the heir apparent & there's not a high change to knock her up with a boy before he'd be able to claim the throne. 🙃

WHO WAS ELIZABETH'S NEPHEW? PETER THE FUCKING THIRD! Son of Mr. Exiled to Russia for Trying to Overthrow His Uncle as King of Sweden and Mrs. I Was Never Assumed to Have Any Political Worth By My Father So He Didn't Really Care What I Did.

As I said before, Peter III identified as a German and didn't speak fuck all Russian. He acted like a German prince and really wanted to BE a German prince. Enter Catherine II (Catherine the Great) a Prussian (is she more technically Austrian than German? who fucking remembers) princess. Empress Elizabeth actually was responsible for the matching of Catherine to Peter III. She knew that Russian needed a strong Austrian alliance since Peter III's reign would be highly scrutinized (and exploited) by the still pissed off Swedes. Catherine (then Sophie, nicknamed Fike) came from a reportedly abusive and cold mother to Russian to be wed to a drunken baby bitch boy who played with toys. Princess Joanna (Catherine's mother) immediately became a huge pain in the ass when she recognized that according to Russian custom her daughter could become Empress. Joanna was actually BANNED FROM RUSSIA FOR SPYING IN BEHALF OF THE AUSTRIAN EMPEROR by Empress Elizabeth following Catherine's arrival there. Catherine also was famously deathly ill upon her arrival to Russia and would have continued to worsen if she'd followed the medical advise prescribed by Joanna (who was anti-bloodlettting). Joanna sent a Lutheran pastor to hold a final confession for Catherine assuming she'd die and Catherine famously turned him away in favor of the Orthodox father attending to her. Empress Elizabeth fucking loved that shit. Upon getting well, Caterine converted to Orthodoxy (both her parents where BIG MAD) at which point she took the name Екатерина Алексеевна (Ekaterina Alekseyvna/ Catherine "daughter of Alexei")--- now when non-Russians take fake patronymics it's usually the russified version of their father's name or a variant of Vladimir but I've seen theorized Alexei may have been the Orthodox Father's name and I think that's more fun anyway.

Catherine hated Peter but she loved Elizabeth (mostly because of the fuck your mom be a strong woman like me) and immediately threw herself into becoming deserving of the Russian throne. She practiced her Russian lessons so long and with such frequency that she actually gave herself pneumonia. Peter though did not make the moves to he deserving off the Russian throne. He was a Lutheran, he hardly spoke Russian, and insisted on spending as much time with Germans as possible. Once his rule began he was even devising a way to give as much Russian terrority to the German royal family as possible.

Can you even believe?

Catherine had won the favor of the advisors around her husband quickly as no one loves a weak Tsar and was able to stage a coup and froce Peter III to abdicate about 6 months into Peter's actual reign. Peter III died later... Potentially in an assassination potentially not. Catherine also potentially had Ivan VI assassinated or maybe he died in a failed coup attempt by people who wanted a controllable Tsar who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️.

At any rate, no the show doesn't look accurate. I appreciate that they've taken the stance that it's not supposed to be either. There's a lot about the ways Catherine has been portrayed in media & by historians that smacks of sexism--- you often see her touted as being a huge slut who fucked her way into power but that entirely ignores that fact that she was an extremely well educated woman who got into and held power for so long by her OWN MERITS. She also was extremely dedicated to following in Peter the Great's footsteps in bringing positive aspects of Westernization to Russia without degrading the Russian culture as lesser. She never lost her Austrian accent when she spoken Russian, she was always more comfortable reading in French, and French was often the first language of her children BUT she is essentially responsible for the creation of Russia's art culture and Russian nobility actually being Russian in culture if not through ethnicity/nationality. She also did some of the largest expansions of the empire in her time which you know is good or bad depending which point you're arguing from.

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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March 28th-April 3rd, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from March 28th, 2020 to April 3rd, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

How many hours do you work on your comic per week, and how do you manager to balance that with other responsibilities?

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

heheh So we are.. cheating a bit Both me and my coworker are unemployed, and is working on hour comic, like was it a full time job. It is our passion project, and dream that we can work and live of makeing comics. In Denmark you can apply for grants from the government, but you need to have releashed a book before that is possible. We are useing the comic, to show potentional clients in the future what we can do. For now we are working on it from 09:00-17:00 ish (with a long lunch break) while applying for other kinds of grants, and also does all the things we are supposed to to get our unemplyment money, and searching for jobs, and freelance gigs, gathering the courage to start our own small company (not right now though) and yeaah time will tell

carcarchu

@Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS that doesn't sound like cheating to me? more like using the tools at your disposal to turn your passion into a viable career

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

hehe it feels a little like cheating! there are some debates about if it is okay or not, but we think that strengthening our skills is a good use of our time

eli [a winged tale]

Haha also not cheating! It’s great you’re using the time to chase the dream I’m curious what’s your breakdown for those time working on the comic? As for me, usually 1-2 hours a day with a bit more on the weekend if time permits. These days with the quarantine it’s about 2-3 h a day

DanitheCarutor

Since I'm unemployed until who knows when I've been working on my comic between 40-50 hours a week about 6 to 7 days a week... most weeks. Some days, like update day or chore day, I hardly work on the comic or don't work on it at all. Admittedly I'm not the best at balancing drawing with other responsibilities, sometimes I get so into it that I forget about daily house chores, other weeks I do the opposite and only do house chores which makes me totally behind of comic stuff. I can't seem to find a good middle ground, it always turns into completely focusing on one or the other.

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah when I get in the zone, time flies and life gets put to the wayside

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

So I have no school or work, so the webcomic has become almost a fulltime project for me

I average about 10 hours per day working on it, not counting on chores and exercise

Another thing I worry about is the possibility of carpal tunnel syndrome, which is why I've been relentless with exercise, too

I guess it's just a combination of relentless reminders and also sheer willpower that gets me to do other responsibilities haha

@eli [a winged tale] also I know that feeling

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

So since my school had to cancel, I have to be more responsible for my online course. Sometimes I give myself 2 days off each week to work more into my upcoming webcomic but I have to switch my mind for school work, online classes. Also extra time for food. I need to get back into exercise or I feel exhausted more easily. I keep a wall schedule so that I make it a routine to write what I'll do every 3 or 5 days, to keep my active brain reminded(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I spent the majority of last year (fun)employed (partially by choice, partially not! my previous job let me go rather unceremoniously... and I needed a hiatus anyway... so it worked out) so I poured a lot more hours into that chapter of Phantomarine than I usually did. I worked on it almost every day - at least for a couple of hours, but sometimes up to a full eight-hour day. That number has dipped tremendously since I’ve gone back to work, but I’m spreading the same amount of time out in a broader way. I’m trying to get a good buffer during my hiatus, so I can work and draw in a healthy balance. I don’t have crazy overtime at my current job like I did at my last one, so that’s already a comfort. I’m confident I’ll be able to hit a good stride once the comic returns in June (edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Can’t wait Lady!!

Feather J. Fern

Two part time jobs, and school killed my comic, but I been working on getting one panel done a day, which is around 30minutes to an hour if possible.

eli [a winged tale]

My routine used to be rendering on the commute but now just once in am and once pm until this limbo time is clarified

That’s awesome Feather! It’s so rewarding when everything comes together after putting effort everyday

Feather J. Fern

Once school is done in two more weeks I will be more free to do things so I hope to get maybe two panels done in a day XD

Online school, stupid quarantine

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Due to the pandemic im mostly off school and my part time job so i spend like 4-5 hours on my comic per day. Still would like try to get a page done per day but lmao digital painting is slowwww

eli [a winged tale]

What’s everyone’s tips for breaks/stretches/balance? I feel like I certainly need to revisit these to avoid burnout and continue feeling motivated!

Feather J. Fern

Actually there was a cool manga artist who's tip was literally he only worked working hours. His mornings are free and since manga was his job, he worked form 12-6, giving him 2 hours to do other work he needs to get done, and takes morning walks and stuff.

Another person I know had "No working weekends" as a thing becuase they are a freelancer.

I personally have try to make sure I ahve a routine, and actually, stretch before drawing.

Streetch before, during a break, and then after, to keep that body nice and warmed up

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Health-wise there's this hing for your : every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. I'm not good at following this, but when I do it, it helps a lot.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Despite the current pandemic, my work-life hasn't changed much (unless you count stress getting in the way). I am currently "unemployed," but I do consider comicking my full-time job. I am also not very good at balancing work and life. Something's always gotta give. Last year, I worked at a job that basically ruined my ability to work on my comic. I worked 30-40 hours typically, ruined my sleep schedule, took work home sometimes, and was constantly exhausted. This is what resulted in my year and a half long hiatus, and it's what drove me to work like hell on my comic when I quit. Now (when I'm in the groove and not suffering from art block), I typically spend 60-70 hours on my comic and get 2-3 pages done: - 30 hours sketching (I know, ridiculous) - 5 hours filling in base colors - 20-25 hours painting - 5 hours adding text, speech bubbles, sfx, and finishing touches - 1-2 hours formatting for Webtoon I also spend some time throughout the week typing up the script, doing concept art for things coming in the future of the comic, and preparing for conventions, but I can't tell you exactly how much time.

eli [a winged tale]

Thanks for the breakdown! I’m always keen to learn from everyone and seeing how the workflow is like for different people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh don't forget to do wrist stretches!

eli [a winged tale]

Ahh formatting time is always so tedious for me!

Yes wrist exercises! Any recommendations?

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

hmmm well the easiest one is literally just shaking it out

like every hour

and I also like to hold my arm out parallel, point my fingers up and using my other hand to pull the fingers back so i'm stretching the wrist

then I point the fingers down and pull on the fingers until my wrist is stretching

eli [a winged tale]

Awesome. Will be adopting those!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I'm pretty fast. 2-6 hours per page, depending on how detailed it is. Average of 3-4. I could probably do 2 pages/ week easily enough, but don't want to do more than that. I'm the kind of person who always needs to be doing a million different things. I need to leave time for my other hobbies and my paintings and my academics and extracurriculars. Otherwise I'd get burnt out doing one thing only

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

@eli [a winged tale] So since it is both me and @Q (Wayfinders: Off Course) working, we start with working on a rough each, our goal is one step (so rough, ink, color) for two pages pr day, pr person. So in a weak the goal is four finished pages a week, and then we upload 3 pages per week. So it is divided that in the morning we start at 09:00 in the morning, maybe checking mail, being practical or whatever. Then we work until 12:00 were we eat lunch, go for a long nice walk and then we go back to work between 13:00 and 14:00 ish and then work until 17:00 when we begin to prepare dinner. Then of course breaks inbetween

Q (Wayfinders: Off Course)

It’s pretty wild to be able to dedicate your entire day to comics like that

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

damn you all work fast

do you guys have any tips on how to work on a webcomic faster?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Lol, I wish!

Still looking for those magical secrets

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@shadowhood (SunnyxRain) You know the 80-20 rule? You can get 80% of the result with 20% of the effort? My comic is very messy if you zoom in. I don't spend time making sure the linework or the coloring is perfectly clean. Also, I'm pretty fast at drawing figures. I used to practice figure drawing a lot by rushing to draw strangers irl before they moved, or by drawing a bunch of fast figures from the free figure drawing model websites online. I've also taken a figure drawing course (didn't even have to pay because it was part of my university! Even if you don't have that option you can probably find free life drawing sessions on Meetup or similar!) which really helped me streamline my process for drawing people

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Oh I see! Yes, I used to take life drawing classes too! And your response makes me feel a lot better

I tend to be a bit messy with inking, and since i'm a perfectionist a lot of my time is wasted on editing/clean up

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've seen cronaj draw, and while I think the results look excellent, I think her method is a kind of inefficient. She draws like a printer, nearly finishing one detailed body part before moving on the the next. I think maybe if she drew in a more classical way, going from a gesture drawing to progressively more detailed, it might help her be faster and her poses more cohesive and dynamic. Maybe working on 1 or 5 min figures would help? Practicing things like this?

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I try to do figure practices for efficiency

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I heard that there are some online life drawing vids you can follow too

but what are your experiences with online life drawing vids versus the real thing

like is there a real difference?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

found some of my old 1 minutes

To me there's not too much difference

I've heard some people say that life drawing is either way easier or way harder though. Because of your depth perception when looking at a real person

But the bruises on my legs can attest to my horrid depth perception haha. That might be why I don't notice a difference

Actually those previous sketches might be 30 seconds? I don't remember

I would recommend you try both but right now we pretty much only have the online option haha

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah I’ve done both and I think irl creates complexity with depth and the interactions with others etc is helpful but online is my go to for flexibility

I think having a process streamlined will make things more efficient. The downside is that it might feel tedious and I do switch it up from time to time for variety

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Might feel uncomfortable but that's how you know you're improving

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There is a TON of difference for me. I HAVE to look at a physical model in front of me.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Can't get better if you always do the same things

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

This is what my brain does.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I wonder- could drawing yourself in a mirror be a decent substitute?

If youre lucky you might also be able to ask an SO or roommate to model for you. Should probably pay them back by cooking for them or something though

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Brain: sees a real model in front of me Brain: translates 3D to 2D, result: drawing Brain: sees a photo/video of a model Brain: SHIT. That's supposed to be 3D, isn't it? Brain: Translates 2D to 3D (basically re-constructing it in my head, or attempting to re-construct) so that it can translate it back to 2D Brain: BSOD

There's some online resources out there that have "3D" photos... you know, two near-identical images side by side, so if you look at it cross-eyed, it becomes 3D?

But I can't do those because I get a headache X'D

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Just thinking about drawing from that makes me dizzy

eli [a winged tale]

Oh interesting!

Yeah maybe looking out the window to draw people would be the way to go...

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But maybe figure drawing in VR exists?

eli [a winged tale]

Balcony figure drawings

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I live on the top floor so those are going to be some very small figures

eli [a winged tale]

For ants

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Once this coronavirus thing is over, there's lots of ways you can do gesture drawings from just random people -- bus stops, cafes, museums (I have not done this, but people who have done this report this is really good because others assume you're drawing the artworks. XD)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've done this a lot

Sometimes I've even shown people drawing of themselves if they've turned out particularly nice

They've always taken it well

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

I like drawing my professors because they use hand gestures a lot when they talk

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Airport was REALLY good for finding people stuck in one pose indefinitely

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

they alwayas laugh when I show them

eli [a winged tale]

Shadow omg I do that too

Draws classmates

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

yeah the only issue i have with drawing classmates

is that they're always doing the "i'm using my phone" pose

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Become the master of drawing people on their phones

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Maybe try drawing children on the playground?

This works better if you're a woman

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

oh thank jesus

I also like going to the zoo or the museum

or the aquarium if i'm feeling adventurous

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I am a University student so I also have some pretty interestng drawings of people asleep in weird poses

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I really need to start going to weekly figure drawing sessions once this is over (there's one here... 20 min drive... 8AM Saturdays )

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

ditto or just go to the park and draw

and @Eightfish (Puppeteer) I've had some.....weird poses from all my profs

one guy was incredibly hard to draw; he was VERY enthusiastic about showing us knife skills

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The parks here are too spacious, to a degree where it's weird to get close enough to people

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Bring binoculars

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

Don't worry ma'am I'm an artist

nothing sketchy

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

(except my sketch)

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

A+ pun right there

another place to go for figure drawing

theaters

like.....opera/plays

I once tried drawing the men dancing in the Newsies musical

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Tried that once, but it took me out of the performance

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

same i was dazzled by dancing men

aaaaand then i abandoned sketching at all when they started throwing newspaper strips into the audience

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

But they were giving you free paper!

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

THEY WERE

i'll take what i can get

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) While I agree that my method of drawing is "inefficient," I do not draw like a printer. There are videos of people drawing like a printer and it's not what I'm doing. I have done gesture drawing before, but it always looked incredibly abstract, and not quite like people, which is fine, but not what I'm going for. I treat gesture drawing like a warm-up exercise. It doesn't really do anything for my end result, but gets my drawing muscles stretched out.(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Gesture drawings are definitely a good warmup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Perhaps it was an inappropriate analogy. What works for me I guess wouldn't work for everyone. I was trying to offer advice because whenever you talk about how much time you spend on art and you work life balance it's commendable but also dismaying. I hope you find something that works for you in the future

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oh god.. I sometimes work 6 hours a day. I guess thats like 30 hours a week? Crazy to think about, it's like a full job

Oooh you guys are sharing figure drawings... I swant to show some of mine

Behold

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My figure drawing usually breaks down into like, medical anatomy study. I feel like I understand body shapes better by including the muscles & bones

carcarchu

ABS the most important figure study

Deo101 [Millennium]

ah figure drawing? I love figure drawing ^^

I do like a lot but this kinda thing is most of it

anyways as for the question at hand, I do a lot of different things for my comics weekly. My millennium pages take me 2-6 hours i would say, but I also have patreon things I need to do so I'd say i spend 10-15 hours on it a week. for my other comic, I spend about 6 hours an update, and it updates every other week. but honestly, all of my free time goes to assorted comics. If i'm not working on school work or chatting with people, I'm working on things for patreon, potential merch, or other comics I want to start sometime.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Oooh nice poses!!’

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks!! I have a ton of gesture/figure drawings but these ones are my most recent that I have saved to my computer i think

10 minutes im pretty sure. very good for speeding up

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Those look really nice, good values

Deo101 [Millennium]

thanks ^^ I really hate working in charcoal honestly, it kinda always winds up hurting my body somehow, but its very quick sooooooo

kayotics

My answer for the prompt question has changed a lot since I started quarantine lmao... I used to do about 10 hours of work throughout the week on my comic page (usually after work, I have an office job) but ironically it’s gotten harder while I work from home. I’ve been struggling to find time since I don’t have a separation between work and home now, and putting the boundaries up of “I’m not always available” to coworkers is difficult.

Also on figure studies: they’re a great way to practice speed. I use the concepts of figure drawings all the time.

RebelVampire

@kayotics As someone who always works from home doing remote contract work, I have to say I think this is something a lot of people underestimate about work at home life. In that it's sometimes really difficult to establish boundaries with ppl and make them understand you aren't always available and also aren't gonna work billions of hours of overtime. So I'm sorry to hear that's affecting your comic work.

Shadowmark Productions

I work anywhere from 6-8 hours a day on comic stuff. That’s an average though. Sometimes I slack and need to pull all nighters to make up for it. Yes, I am terrible at time management. They say entrepreneurs are the only people willing to work 80 hours a week for themselves so they do not have to work 40 hours a week for someone else. I guess webcomic creators are the only people willing to work 80+ hours a week so that they can... go to work for someone else afterwards

AntiBunny

4 days of procrastinating, 1 of procrastinating and hating myself, and 2 of actual comic drawing seems to make up my weekly comic making schedule. :p

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I can only imagine how stressed I would be if I forced myself to update weekly

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

This is a hard question to answer because it varies a lot depending on my energy levels. Ideally I’d spend several hours a day on comics, but realistically I draw as much as possible when I have the energy (5+ hours a day for as many days in a row as I can handle it) and then go weeks or months too tired to do comics. On average, barring any long periods of exhaustion or other interruptions from RL, I spend about 20+ hours a week making pages for my comics.

sagaholmgaard

I prefer to work on my comic for about an hour ever morning and maybe 2-3 hours in the evening, that's the ideal routine for me. Right now I sadly have a lot of schoolwork to do (writing my thesis) so i might get less than 30 minutes in the morning and then feel rlly tired in the evening so I dont get as much time then either. but oh well!

I can still work for 4-5 hours on the weekends so I manage ^^(edited)

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

The whole stay-indoors order's currently completely wrecked my pattern, but before that I did between 3-4 hours a day.

Shadowmark Productions

Can’t imagine the stress of a daily or even weekly posting schedule. Hats off.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #creator babble #creator interview #comic creator interview #comic tea party #ctp

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inkstaineddove · 5 years ago

Text

Turning Tables

Characters: Austria, Prussia; mentions of Germany and Hungary

Summary: Hearing Austria hasn't been doing well post World War I, Prussia travels to Vienna to see for himself. He works to handle the mess he discovers.

Vienna, 1919. Since the end of the Great War, Prussia had done his best to avoid Austria. While they'd both gone through a similar loss, the removal of a royal family they cherished, things remained tense between them. In all honesty, Prussia didn't want to hear it. He knew that if he'd see Austria then he'd be blamed for their losses. That sweet little Roderich would never want to go to war, that bloodthirsty tyrant to the north tricked him into it. Meanwhile, if they had been able to claim victory, Roderich would be bending over backwards to pat himself on the back for starting the damn thing. No, he'd much rather continue to hide out in Berlin, away from any sort of confrontation while Gilbert licked his wounds. But Europe loved her gossip. Prussia had known about the divorce before it happened, a fact he would deny if asked, and had celebrated it in October when the breakup seemed inevitable. He'd been so preoccupied with losing the war that he hadn't wasted a moment being concerned about how Roderich was taking it. And why should he? No matter what side they were on at the moment, he still wanted to see the Austrian face as much personal misery as possible. No, he only began to pay attention to it when he received a letter from one of Austria's old states informing him of how bad Roderich was handling everything. The letter had promised him a juicy show, something Gilbert would be able to relish in. If that was the case, then why was Gilbert so nervous? He shook his head, clearing his mind. It wasn't nerves, he was simply so excited for the main even that his mind shut off. He entered the home, surprised by how vacant it was without his staff. "Österreich, where are you hiding?"

Prussia followed the sound of a piano deeper into the home. What Austria was doing wasn't so much as making music but making noise. His fingers pounded furiously at the keys, releasing all his tension into the instrument. He stared intensely down at the ivory, as if he was daring at it to make a move against him. "What do you want, Preußen?"

Gilbert took a seat on one of the sofas alongside the piano. "I'm checking in on you. You know how things are, word travels. Everyone's saying you're a wreck and I wanted to get a front-row seat to your implosion." Despite his taunting, concern flashed across his face. "And, man, you really are imploding. You look like hell."

"Of course I look like shit, Gilbert, I've lost everything! Some of us have fallen on hard times." Roderich appraised the other man. He looked neatly put together, as if he hadn't been fighting a war for the past four years and lost a substantial amount of territory, money, and resources. He glowered. "I forget myself. The glorious Prussia is too good to struggle," he snarled.

Such hostility right off the bat took him by surprise. Normally Gilbert was the one who fired the first shot. He sat up straight, trying to find a way to deescalate the situation. "I'm struggling there's, ah..." Quick, think of something. "Debt! Lots of postwar debt! Have to pay off France somehow." Roderich gave him a look that called him on his garbage. Gilbert exhaled loudly. "Nothing I say will be acceptable to you, so why should I bother trying to convince you that I've been dealt a shit hand too? I lost my monarchy, that's been rough."

"Cry me a river. Losing the Hohenzollerns is mercy on us all. Without the Hapsburgs, my whole state is in shambles. There is no one to rule, no one understands what's going on, and all of them refuse to listen to me! All they want to do is chase each other around Vienna and debate things. The whole practice is absurd!" Roderich buried his head in his hands. He banged out a few sharp notes on the piano to vent his frustrations. "But I bet democracy is so wonderful in Prussia!" He began imitating a North German accent with a stupid smile on his face. "Oh yes! It's so wonderful and effectual and we all hold hands and sing songs! What a wonderful way of doing things, we should've tried this long ago instead of starting every major war for the last fifty fucking years!"

That was hurtful. Gilbert crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed into a glare. "I think speaking like that constitutes as some sort of prejudice. No surprise then that everyone left you. I'm sure Feliks found your impressions of Poles equally as charming."

"As if you like the Polish either!"

He shrugged, ignoring that. "Besides, what's the point in taking your anger out on me? I'm trying to do a nice thing here, making sure that you're still functioning. Has anyone else come here to check on you?" A telling silence. Gilbert smiled without any warmth. "Exactly. I'm all that you've got right now. So, either get a little nicer or you're going to lose your only friend."

Austria jumped up, unable to contain himself. He began pacing, a cold fire burning in his eyes. "There goes your arrogance as always! We are not, nor will we ever be, friends! I don't want your sympathy; I've never asked for it and I certainly don't need it now. I'm capable of being on my own and regrouping till the time is right for me to reclaim all my possessions again. This is simply a minor hiccup. Part of the natural ebb and flow of our existence." He turned on his heel, facing Gilbert directly with unbridled contempt. "As for you, I don't want anything to do with you! Your vile tongue was the one that coaxed me into that godforsaken war and what did I get? I lost everything because of your blood lust! You didn't care one bit about assisting me with anything, you only wanted to gobble up more French territory for yourself!"

"And I did. I would've kept it all if it hadn't been for that meddling kid." Prussia shrugged dismissively, pushing away his mental picture of America. "They'll get their comeuppance soon enough. I'm not losing sleep over it." The Austrian was flustered at how little impact his words made. Seeing this, his rival seized the moment with a smirk. "If you knew all that, and I know you did because I hadn't bothered hiding it, then why did you so willingly go along with me? There you go again with your victim complex, Roddy. I'm always the one forcing you into something or doing something to you that you find so reprehensible. Will you ever grow the balls to admit that you like it? That you love taking things just as much as me?" Roderich's discomfort made him smile. He licked his teeth, hungry at the thought of conquest. "While we partitioned Poland, you acted like it was so horrendous while demanding you get some of the best portions. You didn't hesitate to attack Denmark with me on the same flimsy reasons simply because it would be an easy fight. I hate to admit it too, but we're the same. It's about time you own up to it."

"You have no shame. You like to be the villain."

"I'm not the villain, I just don't delude myself with thinking I'm the good guy. You should try it."

They stared each other down. Gilbert remained spread out on the sofa, claiming the entirety of it for himself, while Roderich stood behind the piano, his left hand clinging tightly to it. Roderich eventually cooled his nerves enough to form a sentence that wasn't filled with expletives. "Get out of my home. I don't want you defiling it with your presence any longer."

"Make me. You don't have the staff any longer to force me out." Gilbert flashed a shark-like smile, full of teeth and lacking emotion. "Face it, Roddy. In some twisted way, we need each other. Where would be if we weren't getting into screaming matches like this? There would be no more fun in life."

"I don't need you around! I am adamant in the fact that I'm perfectly capable of being on my own! In all honesty, I would prefer it. My music doesn't talk back to me in such a loathsome way. Nor do my books, my portraits, my garden." He began noticing a pattern. He truly had no living companions. Roderich began considering his life. Who on earth actually understood him? Hungary did, but she had made clear to him her feelings when she left. There was no way he could contact her without invoking her wrath. All the other territories he occupied held even more negative opinions of him, as did his former peers in the Holy Roman Empire. His eyes met Gilbert's. If this was the closest he could come to any sort intimate relationship, he was damned.

"When was the last time you were really alone?" All the baiting had left Gilbert's voice. The faintest bit of genuine sympathy - or what it pity? Roderich could no longer tell - was reflected in his eyes. "I've never seen your home this quiet."

"It's been centuries. Not since the sixteenth century." Some of the fight began to drain his body. He slumped down on the piano bench. "I have some staff still. Purely the essentials. A butler, a chauffeur, two chefs, a maid that comes twice weekly. Nothing nearly as extravagant as before. It's rather ostentatious to have a palace be so empty." He laughed bitterly. "If the state wasn't paying for them, I would personally have a hard time. My finances aren't in the best place."

Gilbert shot him an incredulous look. Roderich cleared his throat. "Alright, I'm not exactly in dire straits. I still have plenty of gold and jewels, but the government offered and why turn down a good deal?"

"You're such a cheap bastard." Gilbert couldn't stop himself from snorting out a laugh. "You almost had me for a second, till I remembered you probably have loads stashed away in some London bank account." He composed himself. "If you've been surrounded by underlings for that long, you're not going to handle in being such a huge place by yourself. Your cries might echo too loudly at night for your comfort." Embarrassed by his confession, he tried walking it back. "So I've heard. Francis gave me that advice after I destroyed him at Waterloo. It's not from personal experience." Another signature smooth save.

Roderich didn't want to touch that. He did ponder the advice for a moment, before rejecting it. "I would, but this is the smallest home I own, and I don't want to purchase an even smaller one. I had enough trouble fitting all my possessions in here as it was."

"This...this is your smallest home?" Outrage. Pure, unbridled outrage. Gilbert swiveled his head around, suddenly feeling a deep sympathy for the Marxists who called for the heads of aristocrats. "My smallest home is a hunting lodge in rural East Prussia! This is bigger than some of my palaces in Potsdam and those would be the ones I showed off to women to impress them." He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Throughout all these years, I don't think you've ever said a more upsetting thing to me."

None of that mattered. Roderich narrowed in on his true target. "Which women, Gilbert?"

Cornered. "There's a really funny story behind that, I'm sure you'll be laughing very much. I need something to drink though. It's the only way I'll have the strength to tell you." Seeing his suspicious look, Gilbert begged. "Please. When I'm done, we'll both need one."

It was a simple enough demand and, though he would never admit, he had a feeling Gilbert was right. Roderich looked around for one of his staff to command to bring them a bottle and some glasses. There was no one else in the room. "I didn't say this, but you might have a point that I'm not well-adjusted to this life." Even more shocking, they both laughed, enjoying the very act. Roderich led them out of the music room and into the bar where they made themselves comfortable with a glass of wine and beer respectively.

Gilbert sipped from his stein happily. "Ah, much better. You also can't kick me out after I tell you this."

"I would never promise such a thing."

"I didn't think so, but worth a shot. Anyways, I got access to all the castles which I doubt is news to you because you probably have a similar arrangement. And of my favorites, the largest is the Neuis Palais. Well, I'm not sure if it's the largest but it seems like it. I loved it even when Fritz was alive and there were a few months while we were living there that I begged him to move out for a few days so I could bring this woman back, show her off, have her feel like a queen. All the works of romance-"

"That reminds me. Who was this lovely woman? It's so fascinating that you'd go to such lengths to woo her, I'd love to know her name." Austria stared him down from over the rim of his wine glass. He took his sip and smiled. "To have such powers over your heart, she must be quite the force of nature." He spoke very pointedly.

"You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"Oh contraire. Those are usually the best questions to ask."

"Fine. It's Erzsébet, it's always her. Happy?" He was met with a fake smile brimming with hostility before continuing. "You asked to hear this, you put this on yourself. So, I'm doing all this to impress Erzsi because some of us know how to treat a woman and keep her satisfied." He offered his own mock smile. "Fritz wasn't very big on the whole plan since he was living there at the time and believed his needs usurped my own, which is ridiculous considering all the things I had to do to help him sneak his boyfriends around so he could get a little action. Anyway." Gilbert smirked, thinking back at those fond memories. "Once I inform him who it is I'm planning on-"

"Cheating with? Helping destroy her marriage? Sleeping your way to the slightest bit of self-satisfaction?" Roderich smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Do any of those work for you?"

"If you're going to keep interrupting, I'll start going into graphic detail while acting it out." The distraught look on Roderich's face provided a sufficient answer. "Smart choice. I tell him who I'm going to spend a wonderful weekend with and he finds it hysterical. His immediate reaction was to ask me if Maria-Theresa knew and if it upset her. I didn't know the answer to that, but I figured if I said she did and she was, it would help my chances."

"She did know and she found it equally distasteful. It furthered her disdain for you, as both a state and person. Once you invaded Silesia, I decided she needed to know everything you'd done so we'd be more determined to crush you." Austria was gripping the arms of his chair tight in his left hand. He tried to relax his grasp, but found it impossible.

Gilbert, proud of his exceptional guesswork, paid no attention. "I'm such a genius. I got what I wanted and I weaseled out the truth! I really am the most brilliant strategist in all of Europe."

"While we're congratulating your brilliance, care to spare a word on the Schlieffen Plan?"

"It would've worked just fine if Ludwig hadn't bungled it!" Prussia huffed, crossing his arms. He resented having his plans critiqued by an armchair general.

Austria finished down the rest of his drink. The wine really did appear to be a necessity. He filled his glass again, needing more to help quiet his thoughts. "I'm surprised at how bashful you were to mention all that. Normally you love throwing this sort of thing in my face. Have you two had a falling out?" Self-loathing filled him for the faint hope in his voice.

"Why would I want to tell you all about us right now? There's no joy in kicking a dog while he's down." With a flick of his hand, Gilbert waved away Roderich’s dim glimmer of hope. "I'd rather beat you down when you're getting arrogant again about your place in the world. I figured with the divorce, you didn't want to hear about all my recent trips to Budapest." He snickered. "Correct me if I'm wrong. I'd be more than happy to fill you in on everything we've been doing."

"I most certainly do not want to hear any of that! I would appreciate if you didn't insinuate about what you're doing with her, you degenerate!" An obnoxious laughter filled the room. Roderich wanted to scream, but barely restrained himself. "Now I understand the real reason you're here. You've been waiting all this time to throw that in my face, remind me of where you stack up better as a lover than me. There's nothing to stop you now - though, I suppose there never was if you lack any morals - so why not go all in? You're such a loathsome creature."

"I didn't insinuate anything you couldn't figure out was happening! You would do the exact same to me if you had the chance." Gilbert was now growing frustrated. "How many times do I have to tell you that my real reason, no bullshit, to be here is to see how you're doing? To make sure you're not slitting your wrists or sticking your head in an oven! You don't have anyone and, besides, who knows you like your worst enemy?" He patted Roderich on the shoulder. "We both need friends right now. Arthur won't talk to me since he's taking this war close to heart and Ivan seems like he's losing it. Ludwig's being a real jerk right now so why not sit around, talking with you? You've always given me good enough entertainment."

"It's almost endearing that you feel that way, but have you ever stopped to consider how I might feel about all this? That I find you, down to my core, the most disgusting character in the world? You dragged me into a war that destroyed everything I hold dear, my ex-wife had been cheating with you for centuries and now she gets to openly be with you, you've been provoking me to war and self-destructive choices for years and besting me at every turn." Austria's hands shook with anger. All the negative emotions he'd been suppressing for the past few months began pouring out. "You're the antithesis to everything I believe makes an upstanding, respectable person. Every aspect of you from the mundane to the important fills me with dread. The fact that for so long so many have found you charming - in fact, that they've found you to be a better friend, lover, and ally than me - boggles the mind and upsets it so deeply! I'm at the point where I can barely stand the sight of you. Especially knowing that, despite every conceivable factor, you're able to still be relatively well-off and powerful while I am a shell of my former self! You are the one that's at fault for everything, but have barely faced any personal consequences!"

Prussia sat, continuing to drink while the other man vented. He glanced at his watch, finding the whole speech tiresome. "Are you done yet? I've heard all this before from you. I would've figured that such a maestro would've learnt a new song by now."

That did it. The tables turned, Austria saw red. He bolted up and grabbed Prussia by the collar, thrusting him up. "I would love nothing more than to rid my life of you for once and for all. No matter where I turn, no matter where I go, I always come up against you. Why? What game are you playing at here? Haven't you had your fun yet? You've cursed me to become eroded over time, replaced by such a backwater Piefke!"

"Are you really going to hit me to make yourself feel better? After all the years you derided me for doing the same?" Prussia's answer was the feeling of a fist crashing into his chin. He shifted his jaw around, laughing. "You've never been much of a fighter. That's the lamest hit I've ever taken, didn't even draw blood."

"Then show me how it's done, you brute! You're the one who's always talked about rolling in the mud. Here's your chance! For once, I'm actually ready!"

His hands balled into a fist and he swung his arm back. He would show Austria, he'd show him how a real man fought. But something caught Prussia's attention. How crazed Roderich looked, the desperation in his eyes. This wouldn't be a fair fight. This would be wish fulfillment, further proof that the world was stacked up against him. Gilbert dropped his arm and pushed Roderich away. "Why would I when you're beating yourself up better than I could? What honor is there in this fight?"

There was that damn pity again. Roderich couldn't take it. He collapsed onto the floor. All the fight within him drained at last. There was nothing left, not even a flicker. "I've lost everything. I don't even have a rival who sees me as a worthy challenger."

"Look at yourself, Roderich! Really look at yourself! You don't need me to beat the shit out of you to feel alive again. Have a little more sense of self-worth than that! You need to get a grip before you completely lose your mind." Prussia closed his eyes, swallowing all his pride. "I'm only doing this because you need some sort of pick me up. I respect you, in my own way. I wouldn't have wasted my time going after you all these years if I didn't respect how much of a threat you can be." He opened his eyes, staring intently out the window. "And, before everything got intense, you were decent towards me. I respected that you appreciated me enough to let me become a kingdom. And that was before you started handing kingships out like they were candy!"

Austria rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fat good it did me. Acknowledging you in such a way proved to be the worst move of my life." He considered the rest of what Prussia had said. The full weight of it took him by surprise once it settled in. "You have a strange way of showing respect."

He sat down besides Roderich, assessing the situation to be stable enough to move closer. "I respected what you could do politically and, for a very short time, militarily. I'll admit that once Erzsi told me about her situation, who you were as a person didn't move me. Didn't mean I stopped respecting how willing you were to fight me on everything, even when it was obvious you were going to lose."

"On paper, I typically had the upper-hand. If you're going to delude yourself, try not to do it in my presence." Roderich crossed his arms. He slowly felt some of his barriers crumbling down, much to his curiosity. "I suppose it's only fair if I admit to admiring your tenacity, despite it always being used to oppose me. The way you would always chase after whatever fantasy you held was fascinating to watch when I could be a bystander and, though I will never repeat this, rather stunning when you achieved it." He shot a warning look, wanting to take back what he so freely gave. "Empire does not suit you, though. I'd never seen you more desirous for bloodshed."

"It doesn't look good on you either. You've never been able to take criticism, but holy shit. All those dissenters you crushed before words could even leave their mouths. You couldn't handle a single thing being said against you."

They paused for a moment before laughing. "I take it Erzsébet lectured you on her theory of empire as well."

Gilbert affixed a stern expression of his face. "You become the worst version of yourself with power! Stop invading everyone, how many more wars do you have left in you?" He spoke with a terrible Hungarian accent, his voice up three octaves in what he believed a woman sounded like. The two of them broke into uproarious laughter.

It was Roderich's turn. He gave Gilbert a conspiratorial look. "Leave the Balkans alone! What have they ever done to you!" He dropped the voice before switching back to his normal tone. "Well, dear, I don't know. Assassinating our crown prince feels like a big offense." They laughed even harder. They had to lean against each for support, wiping tears away from their eyes.

"Don't forget that bastard, France. Big winner, having his country torn to shreds for four years. Better not mess with him else he might start waving a white flag so fast, you'll call him Italy."

Austria shook his head, scoffing. "For God's sake, don't mention the damn Italians. If I knew Feliciano would turn out to be such a useless coward, I would've let Antonio take the entirety of the damned place in the divorce." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I suppose Turkey was just as helpful. It's amazing, isn't it? How the hell did we manage to get surrounded with such utter incompetence?"

"Because we'd alienated anyone else with half a brain." Prussia held his glass up. "Cheers to our utter unlikability." They clinked glasses.

"Really, I think you were more of the problem than me. You've done a lot over the years to draw everyone's ire." Roderich sighed at the pointed look Gilbert shot him. "Fine. Yes, we're both intolerable and insufferable bastards. Better?"

"Better."

They sat there, drinking in peaceable silence. The only time it was broken was when they would go to refill their glasses. It was during such a break that Gilbert observed Roderich over the bar counter. He appeared to be doing better than he was originally. He'd moved away from heading towards a psychotic break to a place of being consumed by deep melancholy. It wasn't fantastic, but any improvement was satisfactory to Gilbert. Once everything had calmed down, he was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself, how easy it was to be in the other man's presence. If he was being honest, they'd been heading in that general trend for a few years now. Something about the war changed their relationship. Perhaps it was having to be united against more fearsome enemies, perhaps it was because it became increasingly apparent that their personal melodrama would be resolved in Gilbert's favor, or perhaps they'd gotten too old for all this. Whatever it was, Gilbert was bizarrely thankful for it. He remembered their youth - when there was room to be some sort of friends, even if they never always got along - fondly. To have someone who understood your mentality, your life experiences, you could turn to would be pleasant. Much better than Antonio's constant optimism or Francis' continual condescension or Ivan's neediness.

He slumped back down besides Roderich. "Feels weird to admit it, but the war didn't feel quite as terrible since you were around. When we're not trying to kill each other, you're pretty fun to be with." He swigged his beer back, needing some alcohol to help loosen up his words. "At first, I was pissed at you for personally taking such a backseat to the whole affair, but it was always a nice break away from everything to come here, see it was all the same instead of ruins and trenches." Gilbert wrinkled his nose, the smell of sod and rotting flesh filling his nose. "Damn trenches were hell. I hate this city, but it became like heaven on earth during those years with you at the center of it all, showing that there were still some civilized men."

"There's no glory in modern warfare. In the past, I could ride up on a horse with all my decorations, shout a few words of confidence to my men, and let them handle the rest. Maybe charge you or whatever state I was warring against to make it a fair fight. Now, everything's so bloody, so uncouth. I want nothing to do with that, I'd rather handle everything behind the scenes, it's what I've always been better at. I'll admit that having spouses or underlings with better armies and generals made me quite rusty." He smiled gently at Gilbert. "Besides, while we're being complementary towards each other, why would I want to get in the way of two of the best fighters Europe will ever see? You and Hungary on the same side, conspiring together instead of against each other? What would I have to offer in that? You two would be right not to listen to me." He shrugged, leaning back against the chair behind him. "I'm glad I could provide you with some sort of escapism and you'll be happy to know you gave me the same. It was refreshing to hear from someone who actually knew what was going on and what needed to be done as opposed to aristocrats who'd grown softer than me, unsure of what to do since they'd never fought for anything before."

Gilbert snickered, shaking his head. "We're morons. We're really morons. Wasted all those damn years trying to kill each other and look where we are?" He waved an arm around. "We're fucking pariahs with no glory and only the contempt of everyone else to prove we achieved anything!"

"The good news is that when you're at the bottom, the only place you can go is up." Roderich caught Gilbert's eyes, failing to hide a smirk. "The bad news is that we've sunk beyond rock bottom. I think we've managed to sink so low as to find ourselves in hell."

They held each other's eyes before breaking into a laugh, the absurdity of it all hitting them. What a waste of time and blood they'd spent trying to destroy each other. So focused were they on their petty grievances, on trying to destroy what the other had achieved, they couldn't focus on the real threats. It only made sense that after so many years of signaling their weariness and displeasure at their constant fighting, France and Britain would team up (what power Austria and Prussia had to make a different pair of enemies finally see eye-to-eye!) and crush them. So concerned were they in besting the other for power in Central Europe that they forgot they were bit players in the larger Anglo-French drama, that they could be punished for hogging the spotlight too long by their American sugar daddy.

"You know, after any battle where you'd beaten me severely, I would always get absolutely obliterated to take my mind off it." Gilbert looked at his stein suggestively.

Roderich considered it. What did he have to lose? He'd already had a few glasses of wine, what harm would more do? He hadn't had anything resembling fun in so long, it wouldn't kill him to enjoy himself for one night. A voice in the back of his reminded him that it would be having fun with Gilbert, with Prussia. The very idea was unthinkable, previously unconscionable! The world had changed so rapidly. He was divorced, his empire lost to the pages of history. Hadn't things changed for Gilbert too? Hadn't he been pushed out of the seat of his power as well, having all he'd won so recently taken back as quickly as it came? They both were losers, the most pathetic kind of losers. For the first time in centuries, there was no difference in power between them. As strange as it was, they were equals. Equals in misery and, if Roderich could get over himself, possibly equals in friendship.

"Whenever you'd dealt me a crushing loss, I would always lock myself in my piano room and play until my fingers were raw, until I could no longer see that gloating mug of yours." Roderich chuckled, feeling as if some weight had been lifted from him. "Perhaps your method would've been better. Go on, get whatever I have in the bar that's strongest."

Gilbert shot up, complying with the order as if it had been barked from a general. "I'm making you play for me when you're drunk! I need to hear Edelstein's 'Ode to a Drunken Haze', I know it's your best piece."

"Only if you accompany me on flute. I refuse to make a fool only out of myself!"

"Oh, trust me," Gilbert smiled, pointing the bottle of rum he'd found at Roderich. "We're both going to look like complete idiots by the end of the night. Might as well have some fun with it."

Roderich was surprised to find how true those words would ring.

#aph prussia #hws prussia #aph austria #hws austria #pruaus #if you want to take it as such you can #theres probably some romantic subtext here because im incapable of writing enemies without it apparently #so while i dont personally ship them (theyre cousins and incest is yuck) pruaus shippers eat your hearts out #hws pruaus #aph pruaus #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #aph fanfiction #aph fanfic #hws fanfic #hws fanfiction

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marvelmadam08 · 6 years ago

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The Princess & The Nomad (7)

With your hypnosis gone and your identity fully known, you and Steve reunite and pick you right where your left off. But with The Avengers disbanded and a new danger looming in the future, what’ll keep everything from falling apart?

Summary: You find out that Tony’s been lying to you since you’ve returned. And find a possible lead to Steve’s location.

Warnings: Mild violence, betrayal

A/N: After seeing Endgame this whole story is gonna take a sudden turn of events. Who’s seen Endgame? There will be spoilers in further chapters.

"You lied to me!" You threw a fifty pound dumbbell at Tony, he caught it before it could hit him in the head. He was armed in the suit before you even left the venue "You said you didn't know where he was!"

"I don't know where he is!"

"You have his number." You jumped over the stack of weights to tackled him down to the floor, but he backs out of the way in time to miss your fist. The floor, however, has a newly formed crack in it now "Don't lie to me Stark, where is he?"

"That number is for emergencies only."

"Then you better call it back, because you're gonna need some serious help once I'm done with you." Blue smoke rises from your hands and you start to bring the other iron suits to life.

One by one they closed in around Tony. He blasted through one of the suits whole holding off another.

"Where is he?"

"I told you already. He only gave me that number for emergencies, I don't know where he is. He never told me, I just know that he doesn't stay in the same place for too long."

"But you can find him, track him down using that phone."

"I can't track him the tech is too ancient." One of the suits grabbed Tony from behind, and slammed him to the floor. It pulled back, opening it’s hand, powering up a blast from its palm “(Y/N)!”

You pushed your arms apart, shutting the suits down and the power in the house. The both of you stood in the dark for a moment, Tony working to catch his breath. When the lights came back on your cheeks were wet, and Tony pulled away from the suit that collapsed on top of him.

“I’m sorry- I went too far.” You sniffled and drop to the floor in full on sobs

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just- wanted to keep you safe. But we aren’t gonna get anywhere by fighting, I’ve lost enough family already.”

"Understood." You nod "We're not losing anymore family."

That night you and Tony stayed on opposite sides of the house, and continued to keep to yourself majority of the following day. You staying in your room, while he worked in the garage and if you were to cross paths you shares a simple 'hey, how's it going' to which the other person replied 'fine'. If you didn't know any better you'd think you and Tony were married.

Around six, while you were watching the news once more, Tony came up from the garage, a less hostile demeanor between the two of you.

"Got a second?" It was rhetorical "I gotta head back to New York soon."

"Okay, I'll be ready when we go. Not like I have anything to pack." You tell him

"No, Ross is sniffing around the compound for you now. And since you're against The Accords, and technically an illegal alien." Tony sighed "You gotta stay here while I'm gone."

"By myself?"

"I would check in on you. And I'd come back within the next month or so." He tells you "But if you got thrown in prison-"

"I'd break out, go to Norway and hide out with Odin until it's safe."

"Can't do that kid. He wasn't playing around when he said it was especially made for you. Remember back when Banner ran all your samples, there was still a few vials of your blood left behind." He paused "They built a cell, designed to inhibit your powers. And if you managed to get out of that, there are several things keyed in to your DNA that could possibly kill you before you gain your strength back."

"And who says working for the government isn't fun." you roll your eyes

"(Y/N), this is the safest place for you right now."

"Tony, there's never a safe place for me. Not New York, not Asgard. Like you said, I'm a beacon for bad." You look down at your hands "No one even wants me around, that's probably why Thor stopped visiting me. Maybe it's best if no one never saw me again."

"Hey, look at me. (Y/N), look at me." He turned your chin up "The bad things don't stop just because you're not around, if anything they just get worse when you ignore 'em. I can't convince you to stay, at least not for me. But do it for Steve. Stay in a safe spot for him, and I'll figure out a way to get you two back to each other."

You threw your arms around Tony's shoulders for a hug. "Thank you."

"We're family, but if your dad shows up first I'm sending you with him." He pats you on the back

"Fair enough." You laughed softly "And I promise I won't have any wild Asgardian parties while you're gone."

"Exactly, wait until I get back." He stood giving you a light smile "Watch the time will fly by."

***

"Are we recording FRIDAY?"

"Yes Princess (Y/N)."

"Just (Y/N) is fine." You look directly into the camera in the upper corner of the kitchen "Okay, day twelve in my lonely mansion series I pose the question: can I teach an iron suit how to cook? I guess it'd be easier if I myself knew how, but trial and error right?" You clapped and bounce over to the kitchen counter next to an iron suit that you performed a bit of magic on. Another stood by with a fire extinguisher.

The days weren't flying by as fast as Tony promised but you found small ways to entertain yourself without checking the news every ten minutes. Or meditating to check in on Heimdall.

"Okay we'll start simple, spaghetti and meatballs. We have ground beef, breadcrumbs, I read somewhere that breadcrumbs makes it taste better. And seasonings, I didn't know which ones to use so we're gonna do a bit of all of them."

"I could pull up a full recipe for the dish." FRIDAY suggested strongly

"Nope trial and error, FRIDAY. If I don't fail how will I know when I've succeeded?" You start throwing random seasonings in with the ground beef and breadcrumbs. Pepper, dried mustard, cinnamon, salt, ginger and chili powder just to name a few then push the bowl to the iron suit "Now mix."

It followed your orders, while you filled a pot with water for noodles. Out of habit you gave the TV a quick glance, a blurred photo of a woman with Wanda's features was on the screen.

"FRIDAY unmute the TV."

'...witch, a Sokovian refugee known to be in alliance with Steve Rogers, formerly known as Captain America, was allegedly spotted just outside of Denmark. Maximoff, along with Rogers, has been in hiding since the mass prison break. Possessing powers of hypnosis, and mind control, Maximoff is considered to be a weapon of mass destruction. If encountered, we warn that you call the authorities immediately-'

"Princess, I have an incoming call from Mr. Stark." FRIDAY announces

"Okay."

Tony's face pops up on the screen, muting the news again.

"Why is my iron suit wearing an apron?" He asked, watching the iron suit slide several meatballs into a frying pan

"He's cooking." You move over to the screen on the fridge "Have you seen the news? They're calling Wanda dangerous, a weapon."

"I did, that's why I called. Had to make sure you weren't escaping to Denmark. The media likes to twist things, matter of fact I wouldn't be surprised if it was a set up to get Rogers to go after her."

"If it is-"

"Then you need to stay hidden. I know you can handle yourself, but if it's a setup then you're the jackpot. Word will get to Rogers and then things will get really ugly."

You hopped onto the counter, somewhat oblivious to the meatballs still in the pan behind you. "I just feel like I should do something other than learn how to cook with the iron suits."

"And you will when the time comes. Until then- watch the meatballs!"

You turned in time for the second iron suit to spray the extinguisher onto the stove, putting out the smoking meatballs.

"Trial and error, just like I said."

"I swear you're gonna give me a heart attack, stay safe and don't burn down the house."

When the call ends, the TV pops back up. A girl with braids and a wide smile is on, her accent is heavy but she spoke clearly.

‘Wakanda's technology is far more ahead than anything Americans have experienced. That's why my people hid it from the world. My brother, King T'Challa, learned that by standing by and doing nothing we become apart of the problem. That is the purpose for our new outreach program.’ She told the interviewer

‘I must say Princess Shuri, there are some extremely outrageous devices you have here.’

The camera pans across the tech lab, showing off pieces of nanotech, virtual built cars surrounding seats made of glittering dirt and hoverboards that actually hover. You were fully intrigued by all of it.

‘Now correct me if I'm wrong, but you build your equipment from vibranium, the strongest metal on earth.’

‘Yes, all of our technical resources come from vibranium, however we are still debating the safest way to introduce it to the rest of the world.’ Shuri explained

‘And how do you feel knowing that former war hero turned rogue soldier, Steve Rogers, once used a shield made of vibranium?’ The interviewer practically shoved the microphone back towards Shuri

‘That is not relevant to the progress we've made in the program. Captain Rogers stood for something he believed in, and I believe he does what he feels is right.’ Shuri slightly narrowed her eyes at the reporter ‘If you'll excuse me, I have to return to my lab.’

She turned before the reporter could continue with her questions. You grinned at Shuri's attitude towards the reporter. It was one of the first time you heard someone other than Tony say something positive about Steve since your return.

"FRIDAY, pull up the address to the Wakanda outreach program."

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#avengers endgame #tony stark #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #shuri udaku #marvel #iron man #i am iron man #america's ass #bucky barnes #steve x reader #captain marvel #thor #tesseract #dontspoiltheendgame #100 days of productivity

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lokinewbiewitchy · 6 years ago

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From a FB page:

=============

Loki ( or rather Loke/Loptr/Hveðrungr) as in the original Norse god, was many things you might not know. Here are a few of them:

-gender fluid -pansexual -a mother -intersex

These things are not tumblr inventions, or Marvel inventions. Marvel doesn't acknowledge most of these points. This is the original mythology/Edda Loki.

Gender fluid: He loved to transform and transcend between genders. He also practiced magic, which was seen as ergi/womanly ( Ergi might loosely translate as "gay", in the sense of being "unmanly -__- . though Odin did the same and used magic, he wasn't seen as ergi ). There are different accounts of him walking around as a woman for pure fun, enjoying male attention etc. - transformation was very much his "thing"!

Pansexual: Loki had a lot of sex, with any kind of living being ( and trees, and rocks 👌🏻). He didn't care if it was man, woman or in between or neither. He was known to be sexually hungry, adventurous and daring. He had several affairs, casual sex and two devoted wives, over the cause of his life.

A mother: Loki fathers children, but he also gave birth to officially one, but potentially more. In different versions of the myths, he might have given birth to a few of his monster children ( he is known as the "mother of monsters"). They are most commonly told to be his giant wives children, but there are very old untranslated poems and stories where he is giving birth to a few of them. While that is debatable, he did birth Sleipnir the horse. While people try to say Loki was raped by the stallion, the original Prosa Edda and early poems actually never say he didn't enjoy being a female horse or the interaction with the stallion. It's said that him sand the stallion had "such dealings" that he fell pregnant. That's open to interpretation in my opinion. He wasn't "raped by a horse", he was a female horse himself at that point. If you see Loki as a cis male, it might feel odd to think he might not dislike what happens with the stallion. But if you know Loki was gender fluid and sexually very adventures, it's suddenly a lot less weird or unimaginable. He might not have planned for that encounter, because he only wanted to distract the horse, but there is no real statement that he totally hated everything that happened. I mean, being in a mare-mindset and all? BUT it's all up to personal opinion, and it's fine to believe one thing or the other.

Intersex: Loki as a giant ( or half giant) was most likely intersex. The Jotnar of Jotunheimr were giants known to have both male and female genitalia, according to many versions of north mythology ( not just the Edda, but other myths and retellings too). They birthed an sired children alike, so when speaking of Lokis mother or father, it doesn't mean them being male or female, rather if they had given birth to him or not. There are different giants in the Edda with strikter gender presentation. But when it comes to the Jotuns/Jotnar of Jotunheimr, they were intersexual beings. There are different versions of Lokis origin ( we ignore marvels silly attempt to make him Odins adopted son. They were blood brothers!), in some he is presented as a half-Jotun, in other just as a normal giant. But half or full-giant, he was most likely just as intersexual as the other giants in the myths. Most likely!

These are some points people might not know about him. I researched a lot over the years, even talked to a danish Loki-expert who works with Viking museums in Denmark and Sweden. If you never heard of these things about him, please don't just disregard these details about Loki and his rich history. It's what MAKES him Loki.

Loki is a character that's very often debated in depth, to the point where some people even debate if he was truly a Norse god, or if he was later written into the Edda by Christian translators to create a negative character like the devil/Lucifer. Or if he was real, but twisted to appear in a more negative light. ( I chose to believe he was an original character in the myths/religion of the Vikings, not a Christian invention )

Ps.

Excuse typos, or that I didn't post sources. This was a passion-post. Sourcing all the research I did for over 6 years, back before 2011, mostly offline , with experts/professors, as well as online, would mean I have to find really old links, scan books and articles I don't have near me and call back people. HOWEVER, all this is 100% based on actual sources and not on tumblr or fan-canons or Marvel.

=============================================

-pasted from FB group “ True Trickster - Norse Mythology Loki research Group“

#Loki #myth Loki #Myth!Loki #Loki*

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8147 · 7 years ago

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reading hamlet for the first time (act 5: the finale)

masterlist

none of you told me it was going to be this painful . none of you.

a5s1

“Ophelia’s dead.” “Enter CLOWNS!”

Like im sure this has a different meaning in EMA but im gonna make fun of it because it’s fucking hilarious. (future (present? (now past once more (?))) antares coming back to say i did look at nfs and yeah theyre gravediggers)

“First Clown: What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter? Second Clown: The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.” damn not even just this one quote but these are some depressing clowns

hamlet and horatio!

okay there’s something about all of hamlet’s skull talk that makes me uneasy. like, not even the topic, just something in the words and how earnestly and (pardon my pun) gravely hamlet’s speaking about this. and it’s almost a mournful tune, too. it’s a huge difference from his “we’ll all be eaten by the same worms” speech to the point that it’s almost haunting.

“HAMLET: I will speak to this fellow.” C O N F R O N T

“HAMLET: I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.” (incomprehensible scribbling)

HAMLET, NOT IN ENGLAND: oh yeah lol he was sent to england huh u know why lmao

wait. did the. did the pirate situation get resolved. before act V.

I mean i think hamlet mentioned something about three years but the pirates are so fucking glossed over like what the fuck

“First Clown: 'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad as he.” HOLY SHIT ROAST THEM JFC

“HAMLET: Let me see. (Takes the skull)” THIS IS THE SKULL SCENE! I fucking KNEW it was bullshit that holding the skull was in the to be/not to be speech. I saw it being presented as such like once or twice while reading and I KNEW IT

hm okay so hamlet picks up this guys skull, of someone he used to know, and sure maybe i could ignore the “those lips i have kissed” but then he goes on to mention alexander the great and i mean come on

but jesus like i feel like im not doing justice to the stuff hamlet’s saying. just, the gravity of it all. Its kinda hitting home a bit hard bc like ive had a crippling fear of what happens after death and being forgotten etc since i was like in fourth grade and this is @ing that phobia

like, with that julius ceasar thing. “O that that earth which kept the world in awe / should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw,” it’s so strange. like, every fucking human who has lived, whether they be emperors, murderers, inventors, peasants, or philanthropists- as long as they weren’t blind, they’ve all looked at the same sky. like. It doesnt matter what the fuck you did or didn’t. It’s wild.

“First Priest: No more be done: We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls.” hey i get that there are cultural taboos around suicide but like this guy’s a dick it isnt even clear if it was suicide, like, she was so fucking crazy she might not have even known she was, y’know, in a lake or w/e

laertes, dude, my guy. maybe jumping into a grave is cosmic foreshadowing for something you don’t want to happen to you. js.

“HAMLET: [Advancing] What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane. (Leaps into the grave)” hamlet is NOT one to be out-extra’d (posting-antares here to say, wait, ‘whose phrase of sorrow conjures the stars? is this my aesthetic-speeches-summon-ghosts theory? probably not, but i havent mentioned it for a while)

“LAERTES: The devil take thy soul! (Grappling with him)” IN A FUCKING GRAVE. THEY ARE FIGHTING. IN A GRAVE.

all because hamlet doesn’t want to be out-extra’d. my god.

“QUEEN GERTRUDE: This is mere madness: And thus awhile the fit will work on him; Anon, as patient as the female dove, When that her golden couplets are disclosed, His silence will sit drooping.” Ah yes gertie just talk about the distraught and angry madman as if he isn’t there. that’ll diffuse the situation.

You know what? We still haven’t discussed the pirates.

a5s2

“HAMLET: So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other; You do remember all the circumstance?” If this isn’t gonna be about the pirates im gonna. scream.

“HAMLET: My fears forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,-- O royal knavery!--an exact command, Larded with many several sorts of reasons Importing Denmark's health and England's too, With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, That, on the supervise, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My head should be struck off.” god, though. imagine that. being exiled to another country by the person who killed your father, only to find out that they were going to have you killed, anyways. that’s fucking terrifying. jesus christ.

Damn this idea that pretty handwriting is ~beneath~ nobles confuses me so fucking much. I got called haughty once just because my main handwriting is cursive. I mean, they were right, but their evidence was circumstantial at best.

“HAMLET: That, on the view and knowing of these contents, Without debatement further, more or less, He should the bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving-time allow'd.” Hamlet’s Revenge.

but also, what the fuck, dude. two wrongs dont make a right.

damn i kinda lost myself while reading but it really doesn’t sound like hamlet’s insane anymore. Like he’s… tempered himself. he doesn’t feel insane, just solemn.

“OSRIC: Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark. HAMLET: I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?” goddamn ROAST HIM HAMLET (also what a fucking mood)

Osric put on your fucking ha--

The wind is

The wind is northerly

“HAMLET: No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is northerly.” I remember someone saying that this is important

Okay here: “HAMLET: I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.”

oh no

Osric just wear ur fucking hat u doof

“OSRIC: Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as 'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,-- HAMLET: I beseech you, remember-- (HAMLET moves him to put on his hat)” excuse me a WAGER

but alas all hamlet cares about is osric’s fucking hat

“HAMLET: What's his weapon? OSRIC: Rapier and dagger. HAMLET: That's two of his weapons: but, well.” hamlet u sarcastic little shit i love you

I mean so is horatio. I love him too.

This stuff with the competition is. not gonna end well. not at well.

“HAMLET: I do not think so: since he went into France, I have been in continual practise: I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart: but it is no matter.”

hamlet no. listen to your heart or whatever. jesus christ don’t do it.

“HORATIO: Nay, good my lord,--” HAMLET LISTEN TO HORATIO

Ohhh hamlet

okay reading what laertes said, you know what? i’m giving laertes one last chance. please do not prove me a fool, laertes.

everything is giving me mad anxiety. e v e r y t h i n g.

claud’s speech is insanely sketchy

“KING CLAUDIUS: [Aside] It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.” One, so that’s why it was sketchy. Two, the POISONED CUP?

IT’S TOO LATE?

Gertie’s. Dead.

Shit, shit, shit

“LAERTES: [Aside] And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.” YES! SO PLEASE! STOP FIGHTING!

“LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES.” Oh no oh no oh jeez eheu they’re hurting each other, shit, fuck,

“LAERTES: ...woodcock…”

“KING CLAUDIUS: She swounds to see them bleed. QUEEN GERTRUDE: No, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,-- The drink, the drink! I am poison'd. (Dies)” one, i love how claud is desperatley trying to stick to the plan, its almost adorable in a childish sort of way. two, oh god. ohhh god. gertie.

Oh no.

this is the bloodbath. THIS IS THE BLOODBATH.

BODY COUNT: 1

“HAMLET: The point!--envenom'd too! Then, venom, to thy work. (Stabs KING CLAUDIUS)” ...

BODY COUNT: 2

wait and hamlet’s on death row, as with laertes. Oh no.

“LAERTES: He is justly served; It is a poison temper'd by himself. Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet: Mine and my father's death come not upon thee, Nor thine on me. (Dies)’ oh my god already??? I haven’t even really accepted king claud’s death?? jesus christ??

My friend just sorta nudged me and asked if i was alright and i. I’m not. i’m in shock. goddamn. what?

BODY COUNT: 3

goodness thats three in like less than thirty seconds JESUS CHRIST

“HAMLET: Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio.” that’s chilling. just, the poignancy. that’s so fucking spectral. i’m not okay.

“HORATIO: Never believe it: I am more an antique Roman than a Dane: Here's yet some liquor left.” No no no on no nononon NO NO oh my god are you going to-

“HAMLET: As thou'rt a man, Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't. … If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.” hey i’m crying in study hall. i’m actually crying. what the fuck. I don’t cry unless i’m thinking about that one pair of 18th century shoes with the really good photo quality (transcribing-antares here. I fucking love those shoes. I’m looking at them right now and they’re so fucking beautiful. they look how velvet feels, which is odd, bc they're apparently silk. I don’t care they’re just so fucking lovely)

F O R T I N B R A S?

“HAMLET: O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit.” I’ve identified my emotion. Dread. pure, unadulterated Dread.

for all of you that’ve listened to the penumbra podcast: do you remember the concierge, right before final resting place, saying “you do realize you can just like, leave, and everything will be hunky dory and you won’t have to deal with the emotional consequences this episode will bring you” because i’m seriously considering doing that right now.

“HAMLET: The rest is silence. (Dies)” shit. (posting-antares here to say that i forgot to do the body count but honestly im crying while formating because of this goddamn fucking 400 year old play)

“HORATIO: Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince…” oh god. horatio.

“Good night sweet prince…”

(yet again tis transcribing-antares here to say that im fucking sobbing right now, the shoes are no match for this, and ‘goodnight sweet prince’ is actually never going to leave my head.) (editing-antares here to say im fucking crying again god fucking damn it) (posting-antares back again saying that this fucking line. this line. my god.)

“HORATIO: What is it ye would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.” oh, horatio. god. that isn’t something said without tears staining your skin and a bitter tone hard-won, not that its possession is a victory.

oh my god. this can’t. no. this can’t end like this. What. no. people must have rioted. No. no!!

i typically hate it but i would GLADLY accept a deus ex machina right about now!!

okay my friend just took my phone away from me and shut it off because i kept on trying to scroll past the end

jesus christ

okay so i’m not going to be okay for like, several eternities, so im going to play the sims until i. until i die, probably. my god.

masterlist

#shush antares #antares reads hamlet #thE PIRATES WERE NEVER ADDRESSED #also im crying but im STILL ANGRY #mostly in shock tho

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livixbobbiex · 7 years ago

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Tag meme... thing

This like never happens but I’m procrastinating right now so hi, I’m doing the thing IG. Thanks @tenacioussheepalpaca for tagging me!

How tall are you? 5′5 ish, which means I’m still ‘short’ but I can lean on a lot of people

What color are your eyes? It really depends on the lighting, I’d usually say green (if I look in a mirror) but they look kinda grey sometimes (mostly in photos)

You be the judge idk (may have thrown in the last one to show off about my eyeliner skill)

Do you wear contacts and/or glasses? I do have glasses (short sighted), but I only really bother to wear them at cinemas and stuff. My sight doesn’t give me too much issue.

Do you wear braces? Nah, and I never have.

What is your fashion style? If Dan Howell was poor. For real though, it’s usually monotone or just pure black. Leather jackets, grey trainers, low cut top to display the one asset I have etc. There’s usually at least one or two items of anime merch, whether it’s socks, my hat, flat out cosplay...

How old are you? 18, though I rarely the act like it.

Do you have any siblings? I actually have four sisters (only one related by blood though), and I love them all.

What school/college do you go to? Currently, I don’t, because I had no idea what I wanted to be come graduating. However, I sorted my shit out, and I’ll be studying for a Japanese degree at University of Leeds come this September.

What kind of student are you? That annoying kid who puts in zero effort throughout the entire school year, writes fanfic in lessons, never hands in essays - and yet knocks it out the last few weeks to literally get the top grade in the year anyway. Other than that, basically always the one with the hand up READY for lesson contribution.

What are your favorite subjects? In school my favourite was Spanish, but that was because we literally had the BEST teacher ever, she was super cool and motivating. Although I didn’t continue with the subject, I AM doing a language degree, so... success? My actual favourite in terms of content would be English though, mainly because it had plenty of opportunity for analysis, debate, and discussion.

What are your favorite movies? I always find this kind of question hard to answer, I’d probably say The Kingsman because it does comedy right, the typical animated classics (*cough* Mulan), musicals, nerdy shit like Star Wars and LOTR. Chronicles of Narnia are my favourite Christmas movies.

What are your favorite pastimes? Other than procrastinating my life away with random youtube videos? And, the obvious, writing? Probably researching cool shit, puzzles, strategy video games. I just really like learning stuff. Definitely music.

Do you have any regrets? Aside from every time I’ve been drunk, most of my regrets are people based. Like, I appreciate you learn a lot from every person you interact with, but there are a few people out there I wish I could undo all time and effort put into, people who really didn’t deserve that level of love and faith from me.

What is your dream job? I’m still not sure. Right now, I want to translate anime (because I bitch about translations I disagree with all the time honestly). I’m not settled on it though, I might go into something more diplomacy based (Interpreting etc.).

Would you like to get married? I’m one of those bitter ‘marriage is just a piece of paper’ people. Basically, I don’t think it’s necessary to live a happy and fulfilling life, but if any future partner wanted to get married, I’d happily go for it.

Do you want kids? how many? Not sure. I love kids, but writing 100k words of pregnancy drama fanfic (plus the 4k word birth chapter) has kind of put me off the idea :’) If I don’t end up having any of my own, I’ll definitely foster or adopt some.

How many countries have you visited? All of the UK minus Northern Ireland, the UAE, France, Germany, Belgium, The Netherlands, Denmark, Spain, Italy, Greece. I’m desperate to go to more, though.

What was your scariest dream? When I was five or something, I used to have a recurring nightmare. Nothing happened exactly, I used to just get out of bed and walk towards the bedroom door, and wake up before I got there. The ominous doom of whatever was on the other side used to freak me out, honestly.

Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other? Nope. Whenever people try I tend to freak out and reject them :’)

Put your playlist on shuffle and without skipping list the first 15 songs

Ho Hey - The Lumineers Battle Cry - Imagine Dragons (great writing music btw) Paranoid - Black Sabbath Black Magic - Little Mix Guren No Yumiya - Linked Horizon (aka Attack On Titan OP 1) In The Hall Of The Mountain King - Grieg (classical piece, that Halloween sounding one that Alton Towers use as a theme tune) Chapel of Love - The Dixie Cups Who Do You Love - Marianas Trench Ready To Go - Panic! At The Disco Nearly Witches - Panic! At The Disco (best song on Vices and Virtues fight me) 21 Guns - Green Day All The Boys - Panic! At The Disco National Anthem - Lana Del Rey Disorder - Joy Division Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

(I hooked you all up with youtube links)

I don’t really have that many people to tag, so I’m leaving it open to all my followers to do this! If you see this from my blog, please let me know, I love reading this kind of thing about people :D

#personal #tag meme #I tried #my music taste is weird #naturally there was a lot of panic

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solrosan · 7 years ago

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Great Coat of Arms of Sweden

First I want to say “I fucking knew it!” The coat of arms shown at the end of Eggsy and Tilde’s wedding is the actual Great Coat of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden. Then I suppose I have to admit that checking this was one of the main reasons I went to watch it in cinema for a second time...

And now when I’ve finally got my DVD + time to do this, let me bore you with some information about it and tell you how this proves (against all my personal headcanons) that Tilde is a Bernadotte and part of the longest reign royal family in Swedish history (celebrating 200 years this year).

The first picture is the best screengrab I managed as the camera swept past it in the church and the second is the Great Coat of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden. As you can see, they are the same!

A coat of arms is, in simple terms, a symbol of a person, family, or organization. Sweden has two official coats of arms, a greater one (as seen above) and a lesser one. (you can see it here) The greater one is the personal coat of arms of the Head of State. In other words, it’s the monarch’s coat of arms. The lesser one is, in lack of a better way of phrasing it, ours. Never mind that it’s used for the government, the police, the military etc. It belongs to all Swedes, not as in “we all have a coat of arms” but as in “we’ve claimed the symbol of the three golden crowns and you can try stopping us from using it.” Like... our national hockey teams which just landed in South Korea are officially called “The Three Crowns” and “The Lady Crowns” and wears them on their uniforms.

Moving on, you’re not interested in that... and I wasn’t supposed to talk about the lesser one. The lesser one is, however, part of the greater one, so I’m allowed.

How much Swedish history can you stomach? None? Okay. Sorry, I can’t do that.

I can, however, start with the actual Kingsman fandom relevant part.

As I said, the greater coat of arms is the monarch’s personal coat of arms. It represents the reign king or queen -- in this case, Tilde’s dad -- and by extension their family.

The crown, the lions, the four quarterings, the collar of the Royal Order of the Seraphim, and the golden cross are all pretty generic symbols in Swedish royal heraldry tradition. The inescutcheon (which I like to call the heart shield, but have been told it’s not called at all) on the other hand is used to show hereditary arms. Which means, going by how they use the actual Great Coats of Arms of the Kingdom of Sweden, that Tilde’s dad is a Bernadotte.

What this means in terms of inverse reality, I don’t know. It goes against all my headcanons and makes me low-key sad since I’m going with a counterfactual history where Prince Karl Adolf didn’t die and actually became king making the inverse royal family of Holstein-Gottorp. I might get back to exploring how to shoehorn Tilde into the Bernadotte later. ETA: I thought about it! Here it is! Short story: our currently king was never born, Prince Bertil is Tilde’s grandfather.

Now, let’s get back to the coat of arms if anyone is still interested!

To the left of the inescutcheon is the coat of arms for House of Vasa. The first Swedish king of this house, Gustav Eriksson Vasa, is the reason thousands of idiots travel 90 km on skis between Sälen and Mora each year and the rebel who made his country leave a union 500 years before David Cameron was born.

(Side note to all the Danes out there: if you honestly believe Sweden was Danish during the Kalmar Union then you can’t claim that Denmark exists anymore since Denmark is a part of the European Union.)

Gustav Eriksson Vasa was a rebel, a reformer, a businessman, a tyrant, an oath breaker, a child wedder, a murderer, and... the one who lay the foundation of the Lutheran protestant tax loving Sweden we see today. He was also the person who decided that the Swedish crown should be passed on from father to son. And that’s his family coat of arms.

The right side of the inescutcheon is the coat of arms of Jean Baptiste Bernadotte as prince of Ponte Corvo and Marshal of France (which -- and this I had to look up -- apparently is a combo of Napoleon Bonaparte’s and Ponte Corvo’s coats of arms). Those of you who knows your Swedish history, knows that Jean Baptiste Bernadotte had a tattoo on his chest that said “Death to kings” which is ironic since he died as King Charles XIV John of Sweden. (If you really know your Swedish history you know that the part about the tattoo is untrue, but it’s a good story.)

The first and fourth quartering (I want to say third, because math, but sure) are the coat of arms for Albrekt of Mecklenburg who was King of Sweden in the late 14th century. He created it after overthrowing the House of Folkung and deciding that it wouldn’t do to use their coat of arms as his own.

Why he decided on three crowns or what they might symbolize has been debated over the centuries, but it’s likely that it’s either the three wise men or the three kingdoms Sweden once was. Or why not both? Either way, it’s ours now.

Also, tough luck, Albrekt! Guess what! The second and third quartering are the coat of arms of the House of Folkung -- the golden lion on three silver rods on blue background. (If anyone has watched the Swedish movie Arn - The Knight Templer then it might interest you to know that he’s a Folkung.)

The collar around the shield is the collar of the Order of the Seraphim which Tilde’s mum and dad wears at the dinner with Eggsy. The crown is there because it’s royal and the lions... there are always lions. I’m sure there’s a fascinating story somewhere but I can’t be arsed to look it up.

Lastly, the golden cross. It is, unsurprisingly, the cross from the flag. There is this lovely myth about Saint Erik, king of Sweden back in the day when we were Catholics in the 12th century, being away at a crusade in Finland (because it’s what you did back then) and seeing a burning cross in the sky and hearing God’s voice telling him that under this symbol, he would be victorious. In a more atheistic version of the story, it’s an old rebel flag when Charles VIII of Sweden (that’s Karl Knutsson Bonde for all the Swedes out there) went to war against the Danes in the 15th century, using Albrekt and the House of Folkung’s colours as inspiration for a remake of the Danish red and white flag.

Even if all of the things in the former paragraph can and should be taken with a grain of salt, known is that Charles VIII was the one who designed the coat of arms shield that is used today and that the Swedish flag is considered the second oldest national flag in the world, the Danish being the oldest.

(Last, I just want to say that I’m sorry, I know it’s often preferred to call House of Folkung the House of Bjälbo these days to avoid confusions, but I honestly wouldn’t know who I was talking about if I did. #oldschoolhistory)

#kingsman meta #kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #swedish stuff

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evak-isakxeven · 7 years ago

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The third season of Norwegian teen series Skam dismantled stereotypes, coerced schoolkids into skiving off classes and turned homophobes into rainbow flag-waving defenders—and it first began airing one year ago today. It was the “gay” season, charting the blossoming relationship of Isak Valtersen and Even Bech Næsheim, both coming to terms with their sexuality amidst a cutting background of teenage angst. Taking every fan poll I’ve ever come across into account, season three was by far Skam’s most popular. It broke streaming records in Norway, and television viewership records in neighboring Denmark and Sweden. Throughout its 10-episode run, it hardly left the list of worldwide trending topics on any given social platform. With a short promo clip that could have been a stand in for a gay snuff film—jockish throbs in a locker room being showered with milk in slow motion—the series wasn’t afraid to shy away from explicitly homosexual subject matter. Or any hot button subject. Homophobia, bullying, mental health—nothing was off the cards for series creator Julie Andem. Only a few episodes deep and the series’ popularity reached a fever pitch. Its progressive narrative rested squarely on the sinewy backs of two hunky young actors. Tarjei Sandvik Moe, 18, and Henrik Holm, 22, who embodied these characters for several short years. The monumental shift from tiny Scandi show to international hit uploaded to Google Drive with bootleg subtitles didn’t go unnoticed. “While we were shooting it, we were kind of living in the Skam universe, and suddenly there were people trying to take pictures of us,” remembers Holm. A fourth season came and went centering on the Muslim character, Sana, and though it garnered both debate and praise, people couldn’t help but ache for the return of Isak and Even. Then the series ended, seemingly without warning. Fans were left reeling. Pillows were cried into. And the explanation for its conclusion was a bit weak. However, Holm and Moe pulled it off, providing a thrilling true-to-life coming out story that was neither navel-gazing nor embellished. It felt real, which is why fans—gay and straight alike—have rallied behind this show and reevaluated their attitudes toward sexuality and mental health. Now, the show is headed for impending doom of an American remake. And Tarjei Sandvik Moe and Henrik Holm are teetering on the precipice of intensely promising careers, leaving their beloved characters behind. But we’ll always have Isak and Even. TREY TAYLOR: Can you tell me how you got the role on Skam? TARJEI SANDVIK MOE: It was an open audition and they announced that they needed people born between 1996 and 1999. So the casting guy came to our school and 1,000 people or more came to audition, and I just signed up. In the last round [of auditions], I got told that I was going to audition for Isak. I also auditioned for the role of Jonas but I got the Isak role. I was watching a movie when I found out I got the part. They said it would take a couple of weeks to find out, so I wasn’t stressing at all because it had just been one week since the audition. They called me and told me they wanted to offer me the part of Isak and I didn’t know what that was but I was happy because nobody had cast me professionally before that. It was only my second audition so I didn’t think it would happen. I didn’t want to tell my mom so I just walked into a room where I could be by myself and I just screamed “Yes!” [laughs] HENRIK HOLM: I was introduced in the third season. Skam had its breakthrough in Scandinavia in its second season. Everybody knew what Skam was and there were so many people that wanted to join the “Skamily”. They had open auditions for the third season. They were looking for someone between the ages of 17 and 19. I was thinking about [auditioning] but after two days they had a press release in the Norwegian media where they said, “Hold up, we can’t take anymore resumes.” A few months later, during summer vacation, I found out that my mother had sent in my resume for me and they had tried to contact me through messenger on Facebook. But I wasn’t friends with the girl who was casting so it was in the message requests folder. So I hadn’t seen it and I checked the message and it was dated two months ago. So I got so stressed and messaged her back saying, “Hi, please let me know if you have any more chances!” I put my phone in my pocket and went to work at a local café. On my lunch break, I took my phone out of my pocket and realized I hadn’t pressed the lock button, so I was basically pocket texting her for two hours and sending her voice messages. I was so embarrassed. I thought, “This is the end of me. I’m not going to get any more jobs in this industry.” But for some reason she was very cool and was like, “This could happen to anyone.” And they brought me in for the last week of auditioning. I think it might have been the last day. MOE: You were the last one! I think you were the last person to audition. HOLM: Wow, that’s so cool. First I auditioned with another guy and the second round I got to meet Tarjei and we started talking and it was a good fit. The same day I was at the audition with Tarjei they wanted us to do a [role-playing] test. Tarjei was going to tell me that he slept with my girlfriend and I walked out of that room. I really felt that part went bad. I was so down and I was like, “Oh my god, he actually slept with my girlfriend.” MOE: Because I was so cocky when I was saying it! [laughs] I was like, “Sorry man!” HOLM: Yeah, you were a douchebag! [laughs] So I started walking home with my head hung, because I was so depressed—I thought I blew my last shot! I got home to my friends that I lived with and I was like, “It didn’t go well.” I was really depressed for like two hours and then [Skam creator] Julie [Andem] called me and was like, “Henrik, how would you feel if I told you you were going to play the part of Even?” and I immediately started screaming. It went from the bottom to the top. TAYLOR: Tarjei, you said you wanted to play the part of Jonas and not Isak. Why? MOE: I didn’t know anything about the series and we got to read about all the characters. So I got to read about Yousef, Isak, Mikael, William, Chris … and when I read about Jonas, he seemed like the coolest dude ever! We didn’t know who was going to be the main character, and I was like why can’t I play the cool dude?! I want to be the cool dude, the dressed up guy. In the information about Isak, it said he was manipulative and stuff like that. It also said he was gay and I was like … hmm. There was no problem with that, I just thought that Jonas was the coolest guy ever. I think Marlon [Langeland] did a good job of it. So it was a good thing that they cast me for Isak and Marlon for Jonas, that was the right choice. But back then I wanted to be Jonas so much. HOLM: Did it really say in the description that your character was gay? MOE: Yeah! The last sentences of each character’s description included the biggest secrets of that character. Isak’s secret was that he liked boys. So I knew it from the start. TAYLOR: I thought it was decided later on when characters in the show kept making comments that Isak was gay. MOE: Even though I knew it the whole time, I wasn’t thinking about it. I don’t know how it is but I don’t think that gay people walk around [thinking about how] they’re gay. My job was playing Isak, not playing “gay”—you know what I mean? TAYLOR: I also heard that you asked Julie if your character could hook up with Vilde on the show. MOE: Yeah, that was Ulrikke [Falch]. She was the one hoping for that. I was like, “Yeah, that would be cool,” because I like Ulrikke. She’s so fun and cute, so I thought that would be cool. TAYLOR: Why did Julie say no? MOE: I don’t know. I think because she had her own plan for everything. That was just a secret thing Ulrikke and I [shared]. We were just like, “Oh my god we should hook up on the show!” Julie was more like, “How about you guys hook up outside of the show?” [laughs] TAYLOR: Tarjei, how did you find out that you were going to be the main character in season three? MOE: She called me from the start of season one, so I knew then. But I didn’t take it seriously. I said, “Julie, this thing is not going to work for three seasons.” I doubted there was even going to be a second season. When we got to season two and [the show] started to get big I thought, “I have a big responsibility.” I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Julie said, “You can do it, if you couldn’t do it I wouldn’t have chosen you to be a main character.” So I trusted Julie more than I trusted myself. TAYLOR: Have you heard any particular stories that people have told you about how you helped them come out, or helped in dealing with their mental illness? MOE: I’ve had those experiences when people are so surprised when they meet me and they start shaking and saying stuff like, “You saved me”. Also people who are really deep and serious and are like, “Man, I came out of the closet because of Isak.” That’s big. I think it defends the work of making TV and doing acting. It can change people and it’s such fun work. When I’m acting I’m thinking like, “Oh my god I get paid to do this.” But when you see it could change the world like that I think, “Okay, I deserve my paycheck.” [laughs] HOLM: I’ve met people who understood that they were bipolar by watching our performances. I’ve also met people that have gotten the courage to tell their families that they were gay, but also so many young people who have struggled with their mental health, for years, and they found something that wasn’t only glamorous and pretty to look at but also very raw and understanding. There aren’t a lot of series that have such a deep level of understanding of homosexuality and mental illnesses. MOE: I’ve also met straight people—straight people have said like, “When I first saw Isak and Even kissing, I thought that was disgusting, but after watching it and understanding the characters I realized it’s actually not disgusting. They’re just loving each other like everyone else.” So it’s not only gay people accepting that they’re gay but straight people accepting that other people are gay. TAYLOR: So you have met homophobic people that have changed their mind? MOE: Yeah they stopped being homophobic because they saw that it’s not the worst thing [to be gay]. TAYLOR: I want to talk about that kardemomme scene—you said it was mostly improvised. I heard you rapped the entire “Express Yourself” song by N.W.A. but it got cut. HOLM: [laughs] What did happen that day? MOE: I did rap the whole thing and it got cut out because my rapping was too long. That would’ve made people turn off their TV and be like, “What the fuck is this?! If I wanted to see rapping I would go see rapping!” HOLM: With my bad beat boxing. TAYLOR: When you were making the toast was that improvised? HOLM: We were shooting in Marlon [Langeland]’s apartment. Even’s room is Marlon’s room in real life. They didn’t know what kind of herbs were in his kitchen cupboard, so they just threw out a lot of herbs.There were so many strange names of spices that we had never heard of before. TAYLOR: Did they let you smoke weed? Was that real? HOLM: Oh, no! [laughs] I didn’t even get to roll my own joint! I really had a big dream that I was going to get to roll my own joint as the character. But then I got on set, and the costume boss had one of her friends roll up the whole pack; it was like seven joints or something. I was so depressed because I really wanted to do it myself, and personally I didn’t think it was very well rolled, so I wasn’t too satisfied with the joint—but it wasn’t real weed. We had to smoke herbal cigarettes. MOE: Yeah, it wasn’t tobacco. We smoked some herbs or something. It wasn’t good! HOLM: It was worse than cigarettes because it made you feel glossed over, and you felt really weird in your mouth and you got a bad taste and a headache. I wish it was real weed but it wasn’t. MOE: Earlier that day I also shot the scene, which is the first scene in the episode, when I’m laying in the bath and I smoke from that bong. So I did so much smoking that day, I was depressed afterwards. [laughs] TAYLOR: Henrik, did you have to learn the lyrics to Gabrielle’s “5 Fine Frøkner” for that kitchen scene? HOLMS: I got a text from Julie the day before and she was like, “Henrik you need to help me find a cool song and it’ll be the song that Even will sing to Isak. She proposed “Ah-Ha” by Take On Me, but that was going to be too cliché. So she proposed Gabrielle, and I personally like Gabrielle, but I haven’t listened to much of her songs, and that special song, “5 Fine Frøkner” is a song that was on the radio all the time. The whole summer it had been playing and people were kind of sick of it, like “Despacito.” So my immediate response to Julie was, “Please no, don’t make me do that!” I sat down and listened to the song about three times and started dancing and was like, “Yeah, I really dig this song now!” I had to rehearse the lyrics but when we got on set I had only rehearsed it like three times, so it made it more natural that I didn’t know all the lyrics. TAYLOR: That’s funny because when the show came out and that song played, everybody started downloading it and it became even more popular. [“5 Fine Frøkner” saw a 3,018 percent increase in listening on Spotify after the episode aired, with over 13 million streams]. MOE: I think that Gabrielle owes us some money… [laughs] TAYLOR: Did you guys have a favorite music moment from the show? HOLM: I watched [Skam] when it aired on television, but I must say “O Helga Natt” was the first time I watched that scene and heard the song; I was getting goosebumps all over my neck. MOE: It was so surprising to watch because as we were shooting it, it didn’t sound like that. I always thought it was good but I was just running around the streets of Oslo, and it was the scene where we meet each other and go to the school yard. They were playing this music— HOLM: It made all the focus go away because we were doing maybe the most sensitive and fragile scene in the whole series. But the moment we walked out in the schoolyard, there was a party next door. It was very funny. I almost forgot that. [laughs] TAYLOR: Have either of you ever connected with a piece of media or a piece of art as intensely as viewers connected with Skam? MOE: Yeah in theater, with small theater things. HOLM: But in the same way as fans who have traveled to see the place and meet the people and everything? MOE: Well no, but I have also had those big experiences where I’ve thought, “Okay, I’m going to change my life and do things differently after seeing this.” HOLM: There are so many movies that have changed my view on acting and my perspective of the world and everything, but what was most absurd to me was that these people were actually praising us, or coming to Oslo and walking in our footsteps. It was like, why are they doing this? But my mother explained it very well to me when she reminded me of my huge crush when I was a teenage boy. I was so in love with Jessica Alba, and I was willing to do anything to meet her. I was sitting at home the day I realized I was never going to meet Jessica Alba crying my eyes out. I was so down, and I actually had to go back to that place where I was idolizing who Jessica Alba was, and how she was going to be with me and everything—that made me understand how these people who really connected with Isak and Even’s story wanted to meet us and show us how much it meant to them. That made me open up my eyes to what this show has done for people and that it had a very positive impact on people’s lives. TAYLOR: How old were you when you were obsessed with Jessica Alba? HOLM: Oh I don’t know, I was not old at all. I was like 12 years old or something, 12 or 13. I was dreaming about her every night. [laughs] TAYLOR: Why did the show end? HOLM: Julie is such an artist that when she started thinking about this project, she was thinking about it and dreaming about it all the time. Doing that on and on for two years, I feel like that was enough. But at the same time I think she also thought about the actors. She didn’t want us to be too connected to our roles, in the way that many series go on for year after year, and the actors become more or less their role. TAYLOR: Were you shocked when you found out it was ending? HOLM: It was a shock, but it wasn’t a surprise. MOE: She made four seasons of TV in two years and she wrote everything; she directed everything; she even chose the music! So the fact that she even did one season is impressive to me, and the fact that she made four is fantastic. TAYLOR: I’m part of all these Skam Facebook groups. I saw in one of them that these two guys booked a trip to that hotel you stayed in and found the room and ate some mini burgers just like Isak and Even. How does it make you feel when people do things like that? MOE: I hope they know that that’s not our life, it’s our characters. [laughs] It’s funny, I basically do that without trying because I’m attending [the school the show was filmed in], Hartvig Nissen, and I’m the same age as Isak, which is a total coincidence. But I’m still going to Nissen. I am basically on the set everyday. I also meet a lot of people who come to the school to take pictures of the school and also take pictures of me too. If someone told me two years ago that I would be in a series that would make people from China go to Oslo to take pictures of not that pretty of a school, I would be saying, “What the fuck?!” [laughs] HOLM: I must say that the greatest part of it is that we achieved something of an impact on people. Skam has actually changed people’s lives for the better. That’s why I think people are trying to walk in Isak and Even’s shoes—their lives actually changed for the better. I’ve meet so many people that were affected by, not only the characters and how we portray them, but also the fan base and the warmth inside of all the fans that it became a family that started connecting with each other from across the world. They found something that they could enjoy together and can talk about as much as they wanted. It has much more than race and culture, it was something that was so real to people, irrespective of where you were from or what sexuality you were. Julie made a series that was possible for everyone to understand even if you were 14 or 90 years old. That’s what I think was so special about Skam. http://www.interviewmagazine.com/film/skams-isak-even-revolutionized-teen-tv

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sundance201 · 7 years ago

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Posted the Halloween fic! Head over here to read the fic on AO3 or read on. :)

Title: How The Ghosts Stole Christmas

Rating: Mature (which I went back and forth on, but there’s some language and violence...)

Summary: Sherlock and Molly go searching for a serial killer on Halloween. Or go ghost hunting. It depends on who you ask.

“Alright, really Sherlock, what are we doing out here?” Molly asked as she watched the scenery fly by out the window. Sherlock seemed fully focused on the road, but Molly saw his eyes flick over to her briefly. “Is there really a case out here?”

“Of sorts. We’re going to catch a serial killer.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “A serial killer? Sherlock! A girl needs proper warning before she goes to catch a serial killer! Not the type of thing that you just spring on someone.”

“Would you have come if you had known?”

“Probably not!” she sputtered, too flustered to lie.

Sherlock’s jaw tightened. “You have to come, Molly. He only kills couples and he only kills on this night.”

Molly looked out the window at the passing signs and retraced the route that they had taken in her head. “Wait a minute…are you taking me to the old Scully estate?”

Sherlock smiled. “Knew you’d catch on.”

“Sherlock, that’s a haunted house! There’s no serial killer there.”

Sherlock slowed the car and turned down a darkened road. It seemed like it had gotten progressively darker – logically, Molly knew it was because they were getting further from the closest village. Sherlock scoffed. “There are no such things as ghosts, Molly. I would expect a woman of science to know that.”

She shrugged. “You know that I believe in ghosts, Sherlock. That doesn’t make me any less scientific. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

“Does that make you the Prince of Denmark then?”

Molly giggled. “So Shakespeare is worth keeping on the hard drive then?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” The car slowed to a stop before a large iron gate. There were two big black cars parked alongside the road and a man exited one of them to go and unlock the gate for them. Sherlock waved. “Mycroft’s men. They’re here as backup.”

The large home came into view and Molly gasped. “That somehow isn’t comforting,” she murmured, taking in the decrepit house in front of them. “How are there not a ton of people here? It’s usually a popular destination tonight – ghost hunters wanting to catch a glimpse of the ghosts and the unlucky couple.”

She looked over to Sherlock in time to see him roll his eyes. “I had Mycroft lock down the estate. We have to be the only bait for the killer to chase after. Anyone else would be a distraction.”

“Lovely. And what makes you so sure that it’s a serial killer?”

Sherlock fixed her with a look that would have made the Molly of yesteryear shy away and blush madly. This Molly stared right back, challenging him to explain himself. “There are no such thing as ghosts, Molly. A couple dies here nearly every year…it’s obviously a ritualistic serial killer. And we’re finally going to catch him.”

“So your plan is to just go in there and basically dare a serial killer to come and kill us? Are we just going to sit around and wait for him? Did you at least bring Cluedo to help us pass the time?”

“Very funny, Molly. Obviously we’re not just going to be sitting ducks. We’ll search for him.” He stopped the car and unbuckled his seat belt, twisting to fully look at her for the first time in an hour and a half, since they left London. “Well? Any other imbecilic questions?”

Molly glared and hovered her finger over the seat belt release, as if debating her next action. “Yeah, because going after a serial killer or blood thirsty ghosts on Halloween makes you the sane one.” She released the seat belt, but didn’t make a move to get out of the car. “Just one last thing. Couples die here…we’re not a couple.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Victims are thin on the ground tonight. We’re the only option.” With that, he got out of the car and started towards the house, not looking back to see if she was following.

She grumbled and exited the car as well, jogging to catch up to him. “If we die, I’m going to kill you.”

“Well, as the story goes, there is always one murder and then a suicide. Are you volunteering for the role of murderer?” Molly didn’t dignify that with a response, she just bumped her shoulder against his arm, causing him to stumble slightly.

Molly couldn’t help but feel mounting dread as they approached the house. She could tell that the house was illuminated, but Sherlock handed her a torch as they made their way towards the front door. Sherlock reached out as they approached the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. “Are you ready, Molly?”

“Does it matter? We’re here, aren’t we? Not like you’re just going to turn around,” she mumbled.

“That’s the spirit!” he said jovially and Molly rolled her eyes as he opened the door.

For a moment, Molly couldn’t breathe. The old house was lovely, that was certain. But there was a certain heaviness there, which didn’t surprise her, knowing the sort of things that had gone on in the house.

Something that most people didn’t know about her (although she was sure that Sherlock had deduced it) was that Molly Hooper was a bit of an amateur ghost hunter. She loved a good haunted house and knew all about the old Scully estate. The first murder/suicide incident had been in the late 1800s – the daughter of the owner was betrothed to a man but had loved another. On October 31st, her lover shot her and then himself and in the note that she left behind, she told her father that she’d rather be with her lover forever in death than spend one minute married to another man.

Since then, there had been at least 20 other instances of murder/suicides in the house. They always occurred on October 31st and they always involved a couple. The rate had seemed to pick up in recent years, but Molly guessed that was because the story was publicized more now with the internet and all the various ghost hunting TV shows. People made a special trip out to the estate on October 31st and it showed – there had been murder/suicides on the property for the last five years in a row.

So it didn’t surprise her that the house seemed dark and sad. Dark and sad things had happened there. But none of them seemed to affect Sherlock. He turned to her, a slightly maniacal grin on his face. “Great! Where should we start? Should we split up?”

“No!” The force of Molly’s response must have surprised Sherlock. His eyes widened and he looked like he had his “buffering” face on. “Have you ever even seen a horror movie, Sherlock? Splitting up means almost certain death. It’s like shagging. Both are very bad options in a horror movie, which is basically what we’ve walked into. So no. We are not splitting up. Got it?”

Silently, he nodded. Molly nodded once and looked around the foyer. She tilted her head towards a door on the left. “Let’s start there. We’ll just work through the house until the ghosts find us.”

“Until we find the killer,” Sherlock said dryly, following her towards the door.

She made a face and mocked him silently, safe in the knowledge that he was at her back and couldn’t see her. The door creaked open and Molly shone her flashlight around, stepping cautiously into the room. “Oh for God’s sake, Molly. It’s a tourist destination. There are lights,” she heard from behind her. He flipped the switch and the room lit up.

The furniture was all pristine – it certainly didn’t look like a serial killer’s lair. It did, however, look like a haunted house. Molly pointedly looked back at Sherlock. “Any serial killers about?” Molly called out, smirking.

Sherlock glared at her. “It would serve you right if he popped out from behind that couch right now.” Molly simply stuck her tongue out at him.

“Should we actually take a look around?” Molly asked, stepping further into the room. Sherlock nodded and moved swiftly around the perimeter of the room, while Molly searched around the furniture. “Clear?” Sherlock nodded and made his way back to the front of the room and waited for Molly to join him before they moved out into the main hallway again.

Just then, there was a loud crash from somewhere upstairs and Molly jumped and screamed, clutching Sherlock’s arm. She looked up at him, gratified to see him looking less than put together as he looked up towards the ceiling and then his gaze darted around the rest of the main hallway. “Could have been anything,” he murmured.

“Could’ve been a ghost.”

He rolled his eyes. Molly took a deep breath and relaxed her grip on Sherlock’s arm, sliding her hand down to his and grabbing a hold of it. Sherlock intertwined their fingers and gave her a little squeeze. Molly couldn’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, even as he pulled her towards the next room. The door creaked open again and just before they flicked on the lights, Molly could have sworn she saw something dart across the room.

She gasped and squeezed Sherlock’s hand again, but by the time the room was illuminated, whatever she had seen (or thought she had seen) was gone. “Did you see that?” she whispered.

She heard him swallow. “Yeah. I did.”

Looking up at him, she tried to smile. She was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Tell me you’re not afraid.”

He licked his lips and looked down at her, before heaving a sigh. “I am afraid. But it’s an irrational fear.” He looked around and paused on the door at the far end of the room, presumably leading into the kitchen or servants’ quarters, since they were in the dining room. “Whoever that was couldn’t have gone far. They probably went through that door. I’ll go check it out.”

He made a move towards the door, but Molly tugged him back. “Don’t you dare leave me here,” she hissed.

“I’m just going to see if he’s there.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what Molly assumed was John’s gun.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a gun? Did you bring another one of those?”

He fixed her with a look. “Even if I did have just a spare gun lying around, you don’t know how to shoot, do you? You’d be more of a hazard with one than without.”

She huffed. “But it would have made me feel better since we’re supposedly all alone in this house with a serial killer.” Her grip on his hand loosened and he started moving towards the back of the room.

“Well, look at it this way, if you’re right, it doesn’t matter whether or not we have guns because they’re already dead.”

Molly glared at him. “Shut up.”

He opened up the door and flipped on the light to the small hallway. Molly snuck over to the door, peeking into the hallway behind him. “Stay here,” he murmured.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“I know.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead briefly before turning and entering the hallway, slowly making his way towards the kitchen.

Suddenly, it felt like something pushed her backwards, away from the door, and it slammed shut. Molly yelped and rushed forward, tugging on the doorknob, but it wouldn’t move. She started pounding on the door, hoping Sherlock could hear her. “Sherlock? Sherlock! The door is jammed!” The door that they had entered through slammed shut as well, making Molly jump. She ran towards the other door, only to find it jammed as well.

“Shit,” she murmured. “Shit, shit, shit.” She ran back to the other door, banging on it again. “Sherlock! I’m locked in here. I can’t get out. Sherlock? Sherlock, can you hear me?” She pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear any sign of him, but it was useless. She was alone, at least for the time being.

Sighing, she turned her back to the door and looked around the room. The dining table was immaculate, not even a little bit dusty. The place settings looked like antiques – they were gorgeous. And hanging on the wall just to the right of her was a giant portrait – Molly could only imagine that it was the woman from the stories, the one who killed herself to be with her lover.

She was beautiful, but there was something sad and melancholy, even in this portrait. Molly found herself entranced by the portrait, moving closer so she could examine it more. “You poor thing,” she whispered, staring up at the woman.

A few seconds later (or had it been minutes? It was hard to tell), Molly finally took a step back from the portrait and wondered if she should try either of the doors again. She turned and screamed, jumping back.

“Jesus, Sherlock! You nearly gave me a heart attack! How long have you been standing there? Why didn’t you say something?”

His lip curled up in a soft smile but something about it seemed…off. Molly tried to shake the feeling away – it was probably just the adrenaline from his suddenly appearance still coursing through her veins. “I’m sorry, Molly. I didn’t mean to scare you. You just seemed so enchanted by the portrait – I thought you would have heard me come in.”

Molly made her way across the room to where Sherlock was standing, near the door that they had used to enter in the first place. When she got closer, Sherlock held out his hand to her. “Come on, Molly. I found something.”

Without really thinking about it, she took his hand and let him lead her from the room.

Even with the lights, the servants’ hallway was dimly lit and Sherlock couldn’t help but sigh with relief once he reached the kitchen and the overhead lights illuminated the space. He was glad that Molly wasn’t there to witness his moment of weakness. The kitchen was practically cavernous, with a large island in the middle. Sherlock slowly moved around the space, careful to keep his back to the wall at all times in an attempt to see as much of the room as possible. “Damn it,” he murmured as he completed his survey of the room and lowered his gun.

“He must have escaped somewhere,” he muttered to himself as he made his way towards the door that he assumed led to the main hallway.

Just then, there was a loud BANG. Sherlock broke into a run as he made his way back to the dining room where he had left Molly.

That had been, unmistakably, the sound of a gun firing.

Molly did think it was a bit strange that Sherlock had foregone the other rooms on the main floor and had led her up a staircase to the private rooms. But she had shrugged it off until this very moment. This moment, when she was standing in front of what was clearly the master bedroom with a huge four-poster bed, and had Sherlock at her back with his hands on her hips and his mouth at her neck.

“Sherlock, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she gasped, spinning around in his embrace, her hands going to his chest in an attempt to push him away.

“Oh come on, Molly. I’m just giving you what you want. Try and tell me that you haven’t been dreaming of this,” he murmured, leaning forward, clearly aiming to capture her lips. She gave one great shove against his chest, causing him to stumble back.

“This is not what I want, Sherlock,” she said firmly, knowing that he would accept her answer. Sherlock respected her as a friend, even if he didn’t want her as a lover. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago.

That smug smile that she usually found at least somewhat endearing spread across his face, but there was a cold edge to it that she wasn’t used to seeing. “Oh come on, Molly. It’ll be a fun little experiment. Fucking in a haunted house. Didn’t you say that fucking and splitting up were the two ways to guarantee dying in a horror film? We already split up and nothing happened so now we should fuck.”

She shook her head and stuck a hand out in front of her, warding him off as he continued to approach her. “No. This isn’t…what’s going on here, Sherlock? This isn’t you.”

He scoffed. “Oh please, Molly. This is me through and through. Why do you think that I really brought you here? You’re disposable!” He chuckled and the sound made her blood run cold. “I couldn’t risk bringing anyone else here – they’re actually useful to me. But you, sweet little morgue mouse, I could use you as bait and it wouldn’t interrupt the work nearly at all if the serial killer were to get to you first.”

Molly had been moving backwards as Sherlock continued to advance on her and she didn’t realize that she was so close to the bed until the back of her knees hit against it and she fell backwards onto it. Sherlock laughed again as she scrambled to right herself. “You’re not him. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Sherlock Holmes. He’d never say these things to me,” she said quietly, shaking her head.

He clicked his tongue and tilted his head, giving her a pitying look. “Oh Molly. When will you learn? You’re not important. When I told you that you counted, that you mattered, I was just lying. I was manipulating you. I do it all the time so that you’ll give me what I want.”

She was still shaking her head and even though she tried to stop them, tears started leaking from the corners of her eyes. “It’s not true,” she whispered.

Sherlock pulled the gun from his belt and examined it casually, as if he was bored with this whole scene in front of him. “It is true, unfortunately, Molly dear. You should probably just save the serial killer the trouble and end it now. Maybe the gunshot will catch his attention.” He held the gun out to her and Molly looked at it, dread flooding her body.

Sherlock ran at a breakneck speed down the hallway and practically threw the door to the dining room open (and a small part of his brain that wasn’t completely focused on finding Molly quietly filed away the fact that the door had been open the last time he saw it). He frantically scanned the room. “Molly? Molly! Where are you?”

He ran around the table and gasped as he came to the opposite end, the one closest to the portrait of the woman. Molly was lying on the ground, bleeding from a wound near her heart. Not enough to kill her instantly, but she’d probably die of blood loss before Mycroft’s men could get inside, let alone before medical help could be attained.

Sherlock collapsed beside her, his hands going to her face. “Molly? Molly, what happened?”

Her eyes fluttered open and they slowly focused on him. “The…the killer,” she whispered. “He was here. He had…that gun.” She feebly raised her arm and pointed to the weapon that he was just now noticing, laying only an arm’s length away. “He shot me, Sherlock. Said he…he…wanted you to find me like this.”

“Molly, I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing her forehead over and over again. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I never thought this would happen. I swore to myself that I would protect you. I’d die before I’d let harm come to you.”

She smiled weakly, her lips starting to turn blue and her complexion turning ashy. “A bit too late for that.” She gestured towards the gun again. “But you can join me, Sherlock. There’s still a bullet left. He left it for you.”

She raised her hand and lightly brushed it against his cheek and then ran her fingers over his lips. “I still love you, Sherlock. Even if you don’t love me,” she whispered, before her arm dropped beside her and her body went limp.

“Molly?” Sherlock shook his head, his hand trembling as he sought out her pulse with his fingers. “Molly? Please don’t. Don’t do this. I do love you, Molly. I should have told you. I should have saved you. Oh god. Molly? Please don’t do this. I’m sorry.” He collapsed over her, not caring that he was getting her blood all over him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

With a yell, Molly shoved past Sherlock, knocking him away from the door and causing him to drop the gun. She watched for just a second as it skittered across the floor and then she was off. She ran out the door and down the hallway, then tore down the stairs. “Sherlock! Where are you? We need to leave NOW!”

She thought she could hear something in the dining room and headed in that direction. That was where this had all started after all, maybe that’s where she would find Sherlock…the real Sherlock.

The noise got louder the closer she got to the room, but she couldn’t see anyone inside. “Sherlock? Sherlock, are you in here?” There was a muffled sob and Molly made her way around the table, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim lighting of the dining room.

There was a figure, huddled in the corner of the room, his knees against his chest and his head buried on top of his knees. It was Sherlock but…he seemed to be crying. Molly approached him carefully, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder. “Sherlock, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He jerked the second she touched him and sprang to his feet. She noticed immediately that he was holding a gun, because he was aiming it at her. She was willing to forgive him, since she’d startled him, but she started to worry when he kept it trained on her, even after the recognition dawned in his eyes.

She held her hands up and spoke quietly, calmly to him, even though she was feeling far from quiet and calm. “Sherlock, you need to stop pointing that gun at me and we have to get out of here.”

“Where’s Molly?” he asked through gritted teeth, his hand shaking, but the gun never lowering.

“I’m right here, Sherlock. I’m here. It’s me.” Her head was spinning. Had he seen a fake-Molly, just as she had seen a fake-Sherlock? What had happened? What had she done?

His eyes darted around the floor frantically, seeking something out and clearly not finding it. He shook the gun at her and Molly couldn’t help but take a step back. “Where’s Molly?” he bellowed. “She was right here! She had died because of me and she was right here but now she’s gone and you’re here! But you’re not Molly…you’re a hallucination. She was real,” he whispered, his grip on the gun never wavering. “She was real.”

“She wasn’t,” Molly pleaded with him, keeping her hands up in a placating gesture. “Sherlock, it’s this house. I know you don’t believe in it, but it’s haunted. I saw things too…I saw you and you said terrible things to me, but I know it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you.”

Sherlock shook his head, his eyes darting around the room again. “Ghosts don’t exist.”

“Then how do you explain me? If Molly had died and I’m standing in front of you, I would have to be a ghost, wouldn’t I? Or if a ghost had taken my shape and made you believe that I’d died…your run-of-the-mill serial killer couldn’t do that.”

He was slowly lowering the gun and Molly took a deep breath before taking a step forward. His grip on the gun had loosened enough that it seemed like he was barely holding on to it. “That’s…logical,” he murmured, his eyes losing some of the crazed quality that they’d had just a few seconds ago.

“Sherlock, I’m going to touch you now. I need to prove to you that I’m alive. I’m here. Ok?” He nodded minutely and Molly took another step forward before gently grabbing the hand that wasn’t still holding the gun.

The second he felt her, the gun clattered to the ground and with the newly freed hand, he wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist and took her pulse, feeling the blood rushing through her veins. “Elevated,” he murmured.

“Yeah, a bit stressed,” she replied, with a small quirk of her lips.

“We need to leave,” he said decisively, pulling her towards the door.

“Give the man a medal,” she murmured under her breath, practically breaking into a run with him as they ran out into the main hallway, towards the door.

They burst through the doors of the house and took a deep breath of the crisp, English air, before running all the way to the gates and beyond. Once they were through, Sherlock shouted to Mycroft’s men, “Shut them now! Under no circumstances is anyone to re-enter that house tonight!” They nodded and the gates began to shut, creaking in protest all the way.

Molly started laughing as they watched the gates close and Sherlock looked over at her, probably wondering if she had gone mad from their experience. “Do you believe in ghosts now?”

Sherlock swallowed heavily and considered his words carefully, shooting a look over to Mycroft’s men before answering her, sotto voce. “That was…inexplicable.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Molly felt a pang of disappointment, but then Sherlock turned fully towards her.

The haunted look on Sherlock’s face made Molly move on instinct. She cupped his cheek, eager to comfort him. He nuzzled against her palm before softly confessing, “I thought you died in my arms. I thought that I had led you into danger and I couldn’t protect you.”

“Well that was bloody dangerous, but I managed to protect myself. I think that…whatever was in there, it fed on your worst fears.” She stroked her thumb across his skin. “But I’m here, Sherlock. I’m here.”

He nodded, before his gaze sharpened slightly. Molly’s hand dropped from his cheek, but he caught it with his own, this thumb rubbing over the top of her hand. “What did you see then?”

She shook her head, looking away briefly. He tugged on her hand and she turned back to him, biting her lip before softly answering. “You tried to seduce me and then you told me that you only brought me along because I was disposable. That I didn’t really matter to you.”

Now Sherlock’s hands were cupping her cheeks, as he stared at her intensely. “That’s not true, Molly.”

She smiled again, this time softer and more content. “I know. But it’s nice to hear you confirm it for me.” Sherlock tugged on her hand and she willingly went into his embrace, relishing the warmth of him as she wrapped her arms around his torso and he nuzzled his cheek against her hair, before gently kissing her cheek.

He pulled back and his eyes seemed to scan her face, reading her reaction to his latest cheek kiss. Molly grinned and went up on her tip toes, her hands tugging down on the lapels of his coat, taking his lips in a kiss. He seemed surprised by her actions for a moment. But the surprise faded quickly, and soon enough he had his arms around her and was returning the kiss fervently.

When they broke apart, he couldn’t help but smile at her. “I’m sorry for ruining Halloween. I know how much you love it.”

Molly giggled, her fingers leaving his coat and traveling up to the back of his neck to tug playfully at his curls. Sherlock groaned. “That’s alright. I think that we’ll figure out a way for you to make it up to me.” Sherlock’s grin was positively wolfish. “It’ll probably involve tiramisu.” The wolfish grin fell slightly.

But Molly’s eyes gleamed and she grinned, her tongue flirtatiously peeking out of her mouth. “Tiramisu, preferably enjoyed while naked in a bed.”

And the naughty grin was back. “Oh Molly, I definitely think that can be arranged.”

#sherlolly #fanfic #sherlolly halloween at 221b #the babes doing spoopy stuff together #my precious baby darlings who love each other #bonus points to whoever can pick out the x-files exchange

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