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springtyme · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐨 ♡

Carmy x afab!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Can also be read on ao3 || Main masterlist || Next chapter

chapter summary: You moved to Chicago six months ago. You still don’t really feel at home in a new city, far away from friends and family, but you make a new connection one night when your new neighbor almost set your apartment building on fire.

word count: 3.1k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Smoking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Strangers to friends to lovers. Set in season one. Vague mentions of Mikey’s situation. Reader is from Copenhagen, or has at least have lived there for a longer period of time, but it isn't directly mentioned that it's her nationality, and no description of appearance is mentioned. Reader's exact age isn't mentioned either, but it is implied that she is around Carmy's age.

"My head and my heart and my hands are longing I just woke up in smoke feeling the heat coming Cause the house is on fire"

Copenhagen, six months ago

The cool breeze from the water blows gently against your cheeks, and you can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia creeping in. The calm waters of the harbor glisten in the evening sun, casting a mesmerizing reflection on the nearby buildings. You take a drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke caress your lungs as you contemplate the big changes that lie ahead of you, the smoke swirling around you in a hazy dance. You’re not really supposed to smoke on the platform, but since the station is almost empty you let yourself indulge this one time. You’re leaving all this behind in a week anyway.

As you stand there, watching a lone seagull glide effortlessly above the water, its wings catching the last rays of sunlight, you can’t shake the feeling of bittersweetness that envelops you. Copenhagen has been your home for so long, filled with memories and familiar faces. But now, Chicago beckons with a new opportunity, and you’re leaving in a week, and you don’t fucking know if you have made the right decision or not.

You’re going to miss the ocean, that’s for damn sure. You take another puff of your cigarette, the brisk air mixing with the smoke as the golden sun slowly sets over Nordhavn. The colors of the sky shift to hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the water. The beauty of the moment is not lost on you, but neither is the weight of the decision you’ve made.

These thoughts swirl in your mind as you take a last drag of your cigarette, exhaling slowly as if trying to let go of all your worries. The sound of the approaching train brings you back to the present. You stub out your cigarette, before the red train comes to a stop in front of you, cutting off the view of the water.

With a deep breath, you gather yourself and step onto the train. As the doors close behind you, you find a seat by the window. The familiar rumble of the tracks beneath you lulls you into a sense of calm as the train begins to move. As the train starts to pick up speed, you close your eyes. It’s going to be hard to leave it all behind and start over in a whole new city, but you know deep down that you’re in need of a change.

· · · · ·

Chicago, present day

Carmy can feel the building pressure at the sides of his skull that indicates that a nasty headache is on its way. The wet rag in his hand is feeling mushy between his fingers as the scrubs away at the steel countertop, the rhythmic sound of Gary’s broom sweeping over the floor, matching up with the incipient throbs in his temples.

He needs a fucking break and a cigarette, but he can’t really take one now, he is the one who has been so insistent that they start to take prepping and cleaning of their stations more seriously and he can’t just, fucking, leave in the middle of it, he’ll get the bottle of tylenol in the desk drawer in his office after they’ve finished.

“Chef, you want me to strain that oil for you?” Sydney asks, her voice cutting through Carmy’s pounding head.

“Uh, no, no I got it. Thank you, chef.” He’ll finish his station, strain the oil, and then take a break. Unless something else comes up, which there most likely will.

“Why am I using a toothbrush, chef?” Marcus asks from his place at the stove where he is scrubbing the burners.

Carmy blinks, trying to push aside the growing migraine as he explains, “It’s about consistency and being consistent. Can’t operate at a higher level without consistency.” He can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for pushing his team so hard with all these new changes, but he knows they need to seriously step up their game if this place is ever going to be just a little less of a shit show.

“I like this level,” Richie exclaims.

“Yeah, well, at The French Laundry you know how much time we’d spend-” Carmy begins, but Richie cuts him off.

“Well, go fuck your French Laundry. Stupid fucking name.”

And yeah, Richie might be right, it kind of is a stupid name, but Carmy is not about to start a discussion over the fucking name of a French-Californian fusion place. “All right, then at Noma.”

“Fuck your Noma too,” Richie retorts.

Carmy just shakes his head, deciding to let Richie’s attitude slide for now. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with him, not with the pain in his head steadily increasing.

“Noma’s the shit, huh?” Marcus chimes in.

“The best,” Carmy and Sydney respond in unison before Carmy continues. “It’ll teach you to operate at a level you didn’t even know you could operate at, Marcus,” he tells the baker before turning to address Richie again, “And just so we’re clear, I wanted to work here. Mikey wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh, no, no. You went halfway around the world to learn all this fancy, useless fucking bullshit. I went to West Lawrence Avenue and learned every level.”

“West Lawrence? You’re talking about DeVry?” Marcus asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, exactly,” Richie confirms.

“Oh, DeVry. ‘We’re serious about success,’” Marcus jokes, using an exaggerated deep voice.

“Is that supposed to be fucking funny, fucko?” Richie grins at Marcus before jokingly trying to tackle the younger man who by now has bursted into laughter. “Let me tell you something. No for real,” Richie lets go of Marcus pointing his finger in the air as he continues. “Where else are you gonna learn crucial database management specialization skills, huh? While troubleshooting a vented OptiSpark distributor in a Trans Am?”

“I would never need to learn that,” Syd interjects, not pleased with Richie’s antics.

“Definitely not Noma!” Richie exclaims.

“I would legit do anything to go to Noma,” Sydney says longingly.

“And eat bugs?!” Richie teases.

Those ants had been a fucking pain to work with, but Carmy keeps that to himself, he is not about to give Richie that victory.

“And be inspired, stupid,”Sydey retorts.

“God, and be lame.” Richie counters.

But before more can be said about DeVry or inspiration or, fucking, bugs, Ebra storms into the kitchen, interrupting them. “The ice cream machine is broken!”

Just like Carmy had predicted, something else had come up. He turns to Richie. “DeVry teach you to fix that?”

“You know what? Actually, yes.” Richie says, swinging his dish towel over his shoulder before starting to pick up a bunch of random tools and utensils, including two wooden spoons, leaving the room to join Ebra at the ice cream machine.

Another fucking thing in this place that doesn’t work, Carmy should probably just call Fak before Richie can break it even more, but it is not like the old machine can really get much worse, it’s and old piece of shit and almost no one ever orders the ice cream anyway, so why not let Richie feel a little useful.

· · · · ·

A swirl of steam dances in the air as you trace the rim of the mug with your finger, the aroma of the tea is filling the room, mixing with the scent from the lavender candle you have lit, enveloping your senses with a bittersweet nostalgia.

You are sitting in your kitchen, staring out of the window, another night unable to sleep. The vague sound of the city filters through the glass along with the warm glow from the street lights and signs which are the only cause of light along with the candle, its flickering flame casting a gentle shadow upon the room.

You take a sip of the tea, feeling the warmth travel down your throat, before wrapping your hands around the warm mug, seeking comfort in its gentle heat. The steam rises and dissipates into the air, mirroring the ephemeral pattern of your tired thoughts. Outside the window, the city continues its nocturnal rhythm, its heartbeat resonating with your own. The distant sounds of car horns, and the occasional sound of the L train rumbling by and the vocational sirens mixing together into a harmonious cacophony.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, but you open them again quickly, wrinkling your nose. Something suddenly smells wrong… It’s vague, but it’s like burning plastic or something. You quickly look down at the candle to check if something got into it, but nothing is there. You don’t get to ponder more about it though, before a sudden, piercing sound slices through the tranquil ambiance of your kitchen. Your eyes widen in surprise as the shrill wail of a fire alarm blares from the apartment next door.

Concerned, you immediately put down your mug, while the smell of smoke starts to get more intense. This would normally be worrying enough, but what’s the real kicker to your concern is that no one’s lived in the apartment next to yours in the last four months. You stand up, stepping into your slippers while grabbing the zip up hoodie you had hanging on the back of your chair. You quickly throw the hoodie around you, slipping your arms into the sleeves and wrapping the oversized garment around you, not bothering zipping it.

You blow out the candle, as you quickly grab your phone, sliding it into the pocket of your sweatpants. You Swiftly make your way through your apartment, stepping out into the hallway, the smell of smoke now stronger. The ear-splitting beeps of the fire alarm continue to echo through the corridor as you approach the door of your neighboring apartment. You hesitate for a moment, You try to listen if you can hear anything from inside, but all you can hear is the sound of the alarm.

Has someone really moved in without you noticing? But how likely is it that a spontaneous fire starts in an unoccupied apartment? Raising your hand you knock on the door. Nothing happens, and panic grips your chest, thoughts of evacuation and calling the fire department race through your mind, but you are pulled out of your spiraling thoughts as all of a sudden the loud beeping stops and you can now hear a vague shuffling sound from inside the apartment.

You knock again, your heart beating fastly as you wait. There is someone in there, and you both get worried that they might not be okay and need help while you simultaneously feel weird about someone being inside the apartment you thought was empty.

The seconds stretch as you wait for a response. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, but in reality only is a few seconds, the door creaks open, revealing a disheveled figure standing before you, and you are met with a pair of eyes so piercing blue that it catches you off guard. They belong to a man, around your own age if you have to guess, dirty blonde curls framing his face in a messy, yet oddly charming way.

He is wearing a white t-shirt, which you can’t help but notice is hugging his biceps extremely nicely, with tattoos scattered across his arms and hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a look on his face that screams of pure exhaustion, yet his eyes are wide and alert, like someone who has just been woken abruptly.

“Hi,” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man. “I heard the fire alarm and smelled smoke, I just wanted to check that everything was okay, I-I live next door,” you say, sheepishly pointing in the direction of your door.

“Oh, hi,” the man replies, his voice slightly hoarse and rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in a while, yet soft. “I-I’m so sorry if I woke you. I… I accidentally burnt some shit, I’m sorry,” he says a bit bashfully, his cheeks turning slightly pink. A short moment of silence hangs between you both as you process the situation.

You can see the genuine embarrassment in his eyes, which brings a sense of ease to your worried mind. He seems harmless enough, just a regular person who made a mistake. You decide to let him off the hook, even though his explanation doesn’t quite match up with the intensity of the burning smell that fills the air, offering him a supportive but also slightly shy smile. “Accidents happen, don’t worry about it. I’m a terrible cook too,” you say, trying to lightning the mood.

“Well, I’m actually a chef,” he says a little awkwardly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mea-”, you stammer, trailing off as you realize your unintentional insult, but he cuts you off in the same sheepish tone as you.

“No, no, it’s fine I didn’t mean…” he begins to say before shutting up mid sentence, and the two of you share a brief, awkward but understanding laugh before another silence settles between you.

Now that you have been made sure that nothing urgent is going on you take a second to take him better in, and you can’t help but notice how attractive you find him, captivated by the piercing blue eyes and intrigued by the subtle tattoos that peek out from under his short sleeves, now realizing that several of them are kitchen themed.

“So, everything’s under control now?” you ask, tearing your gaze from his arms as you realize that you had been staring for a little too long, glancing past him into the apartment. The lingering scent of smoke still hangs heavily in the air.

He nods, running a hand through his rumpled locks. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine now,” he reassures, but the smell of smoke still hangs very heavily in the air.

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not to invite him into your apartment while his gets aired out. You don’t know him, and inviting a stranger into your apartment in the middle of the night isn’t really ideal, but something about his tired eyes and disheveled appearance tugs at your heartstrings, and you can’t shake off the feeling that he might need some company. And with the tired, almost haunted look in his eyes you also can’t help but be reminded of Michael.

Michael had lived in the apartment next to yours when you moved in six months ago. You did not know him well, but he had always been friendly when you talked to him. He seemed like the type of guy who is friends with everyone, despite it being clear that he was dealing with some internal shit.

One night you had encountered him in the hallway and he had seemed off. You were on your way home, and he was on his way out. He appeared caught off guard by your presence, and after you greeted him, he had just turned around and walked back into his apartment instead of leaving the building like he was supposed to. Little did you know that it was the last time you would see your old neighbor. A week later, you learned that he had tragically taken his own life on the State Street Bridge, just five days after your last encounter in the hallway.

You have thought about it a lot for the past four months: how he might have planned to go to the bridge the night you ran into him in the hall, and how, if you had done the same just a few days later, things might have turned out differently for him.

You don’t want to assume that your new neighbor’s situation is as dire, but you also don’t want to underestimate the impact a small act of kindness can have and now, seeing this man standing before you with a similar look of exhaustion and vulnerability, you can’t help but feel a sense of responsibility to offer him some support.

“Hey, um... I know this might sound a little strange, but if you need a place to stay while your apartment airs out, you’re welcome to come to my place,” you offer, your voice filled with genuine concern.

The man’s tired eyes widen slightly, clearly caught off guard by your unexpected invitation. “That’s incredibly kind of you, but I wouldn’t want you to lose any more sleep because of me,” he responds, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of hesitation.

You are quick to shake your head, realizing that you never told him that he didn’t wake you. “Oh, you haven’t made me lose any sleep, I was already awake, so please don’t worry about that.” The man’s shoulders relax a bit, a little of the tension melting away. He takes a moment to consider your offer, his gaze flickering between your face and the open doorway of his smoke-filled apartment. The exhaustion in his eyes is undeniable..

“No pressure,” you say softly, breaking the silence. “But, seriously you are more than welcome, I can make some coffee, I got both normal and decaf, or some tea. I also have some leftover takeout in the fridge, I could need some help to get eaten, if you’re hungry.”

The man’s hesitant expression softens, and he offers a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “I don’t want to impose, but coffee does sound really good.”

You nod understandingly. “Of course, no imposition at all.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll just get some of these windows cracked open then,” the man says, stepping back into his apartment and disappearing from view for a moment. You hear the sound of windows being opened, the crisp night air filtering in and mingling with the heavy aroma of smoke.

You turn your head, for some reason you feel a little rude to stand staring into his apartment even though you just invited him into yours, your eyes landing on the nameplate next to the door. Berzatto. It has not been changed since Michael.

After a few moments, the man reappears at the doorway, now holding a light jacket under his arm, and his keys, phone and a pack of cigarettes in his hand. His disheveled appearance remains, but there’s a glimmer of gratitude in his tired eyes.

“Ready to go?” you ask, offering a reassuring smile.

He nods, stepping out into the hall with you.

“You know, uhm,” you say, pointing at the nameplate. “You can talk to the resident manager.” His eyes following the direction of your finger. “He’ll help you get your name up.”

“Oh, no that’s… that’s me,” he says, sheepishly pointing at the nameplate. “Well, it’s also me,” he explains, a little clumsily, before turning to you again. “I’m Carmen… Carmen Berzatto.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡

@wittyno

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ltwilliammowett · 10 months

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The Wismar Wreck

In 2017, archaeologists led by Jens Auer of the Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania State Office for the Preservation of Monuments discovered three wrecks from the early Hanseatic period in the harbor entrance of Wismar.

The Wismar wreck in 3-D scan on the bottom of Wismar Bay (x)

The third wreck is a sensation because it lay under the two others and is about 26m long and 8m wide. It was built in clinker technique and maybe it was not used for a long time.The ship was built around 1184 in Halland, in what is now southern Sweden, then part of Denmark. At the time of Danish King Waldemar II, there was a peaceful period with flourishing maritime trade. Grain, amber, goods from all over Europe, the Near East and even Persia were traded. The Wismar Wreck is a witness to this time and is even older than the city itself. It is believed that it was once a transport or merchant vessel that had a hole that they tried to repair before the ship sank off Wismar.

Since 2018 the wreck is now in Brede near Copenhagen to be processed and preserved.

The conservation process consists of two steps. First, the oak wood is impregnated with a polyethylene-glycol-water mixture and then freeze-dried. The polyethylene glycol serves as a substitute for the missing cellulose in the wood and protects the planks from cracking and deformation. All the individual parts of the wreck are placed on a kind of "sheet" that is pushed into the circular freeze dryer. The conservators around Jan Bruun Jensen make sure that the heaviest timbers are at the end, where it is easiest to reach. Some timbers weigh more than 100 kilograms. They remain in the freeze dryer for three to four months. And because there are 300 individual parts, the process is very time-consuming. Afterwards, it will return to Wismar to be exhibited there.

#naval history #naval artifacts #wreck #wismar wreck #medieval seafaring #12th century #sweden #denmark #germany

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astroesther · 2 months

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LIVE AND DIRECT! MERCURY IN ARIES

Mercury is in Aries from March 10 - May 15, 2024.

*All photos were taken by me in Copenhagen.

When Mercury moves into Aries on the same day as the Pisces new moon, it creates a unique blend of energies. These two different yet powerful forces seem to counterbalance each other. The Pisces New Moon provides a sense of tranquility, immersing us in a dreamy and relaxed state of mind. Conversely, the fiery nature of Mercury in Aries has the opposite effect, stimulating our senses and making us alert, similar to the jarring sensation of an alarm going off at 6 am.

During this period, it might feel as though you are disconnected and struggling to adapt, almost as if you're living within a virtual reality. It's akin to those vivid dreams that blur the line between fantasy and reality. Your perception of things might seem distorted or skewed, so it's crucial to take your time. Do not rush to conclusions without first gathering all the facts and understanding the complete picture.

Mercury in Aries often signals a time of accelerated communication. Social media activity may increase, and messages may start hurtling in at a rapid pace. It's as if your wifi connection, which was previously down or weak, suddenly restores itself and springs back to life just as quickly as it had disappeared.

On a more personal note, my Wifi has been down for nearly two weeks, which has been incredibly frustrating since I rely heavily on it for virtually everything. The intermittent silence and lack of connectivity create a level of fear and unease in me that I’d rather not experience!

However, every cloud has a silver lining. In the absence of the constant hustle and bustle of life and the incessant distractions, I found some much-needed time and space to introspect and reflect upon my own thoughts. This period of downtime allowed me to rejuvenate my astrology writing practice and discover new creative projects to pursue. Looking back, I realize that this period of inactivity was, in fact, immensely valuable for me.

This experience has taught me to appreciate the downtimes, like those quiet moments in tube tunnels when there's nothing else to do but think. Or even better, to try not to harbor any terrible thoughts.

Speaking of terrible thoughts, they can be quite intrusive, right? However, with Mercury in Aries, they won’t linger for long. This period prompts us to question our thought patterns—what area of our lives is demanding assertive attention? How can we address these issues to create a healthier and more harmonious balance in our lives?

Remember, this period is a time for growth and self-improvement. Embrace it with an open mind and a willing heart.

READ FOR YOUR SUN AND RISING SIGN

Pisces

The transit might pose a challenge for you, especially considering your self-sacrificing nature. The sudden need to prioritize your desires and needs might seem out of sync with your usual demeanor. More importantly, you might struggle to identify what these needs are. This period may make you feel uncomfortable, nudging you to take center stage, focus exclusively on yourself, and make decisions without seeking the input of others.

Aries

With Mercury being in your sign for a few months, expect a transformational period. It's as if you're setting old burdens on fire, a symbolic act of releasing and purification. This period will allow you to let go of the past and welcome the future. As self-doubt makes way for confidence, you'll find yourself ready to embrace the new phase of your life.

Taurus

Much like Aries, you too are undergoing a significant metamorphosis. It's a time of change and growth, symbolized by the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis, the snake shedding its skin, or the bear ending its hibernation. Mercury, the messenger, is streaking across the sky with a chariot and flame, lighting up your life. This celestial illumination will help you destroy what's unnecessary, making room for reinvention.

Gemini

This season might bring a somber mood, making you feel low and self-reflective. Despite being the trendsetter and early adopter of the zeitgeist, you might feel lonely at the top. Your elevated confidence might highlight others' limitations, leading to potential jealousy and discord.

Cancer

As this season squares your planets, it may not be particularly enjoyable for you. Prepare yourself for complex conversations and strive to express your feelings in a way that respects the other person. It's crucial to see other people's perspectives, especially when their values don't align with yours. Strive to find the common ground where everyone is allowed to be as they are, not as you want them to be.

Leo

Expect a eureka moment, as this period brings innovation and luck your way. Things will move quickly as you align with love and joy. Tune into your intuition and be ready to act swiftly. A rain of ideas is about to pour down, signalling a fertile and creative period in your life. Mercury in Aries is set to bolster your dreams and aspirations.

Virgo

Mercury, your ruler, is in Aries and might not offer the comfort you desire. You're used to Mercury's energy in mutable or earth signs, so its presence in the cardinal fire sign could be unsettling. The sudden shift from rational Pisces to unpredictable Aries might make you feel out of control with your thoughts.

Libra

The current planetary placement opposes your sign but could be advantageous if you need to assert yourself. Remember, a partnership is about two equal individuals coming together, not one person bending over backwards. Maintain your boundaries and ensure balance in all your relationships. It's time to uphold the equilibrium represented by your scales.

Scorpio

This transit brings your co-ruler into the spotlight, making it a favourable time for you. It's almost like celebrating your birthday. Things will start to move your way, with less struggle and more ease, allowing you to plan for your near future. Reflect on the past six months, set goals for the next six, and channel your energy towards the future you envision.

Sagittarius

Rest is the keyword for you at this time. If you're feeling run down or experiencing a low mood, it's a sign that your body and mind are begging for a break. Use this downtime to address any unresolved issues or discomforts. Uncomfortable truths may surface during this period, allowing you to move forward with greater clarity and understanding.

Capricorn

This Mercury period might bring turbulence for you, but remember, you're built to weather the storm. Express your needs and feelings to others, ensuring they understand your expectations. If you're finding it hard to let go of others' burdens, it might be time to seek help. Remember, reaching out for assistance is a sign of strength, not weakness.

Aquarius

Although this transit aligns harmoniously with your house, Mercury in Aries is nudging you to be more assertive. It's time to step up to the plate and let your voice be heard. Your opinion matters, so don't hesitate to express it. During this time, focus on recognizing and leveraging your strengths rather than dwelling on your weaknesses.

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mariacallous · 6 months

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TEL AVIV (JTA) – Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said that Israel’s ground invasion of Gaza increases the chance that hostages will be freed, and rejected calls for a ceasefire in the country’s war against Hamas, which he called “a battle of civilization against barbarians.”

In a statement Monday evening followed by a brief question-and-answer period with foreign reporters, Netanyahu also blamed the war’s mounting death toll on Hamas, the terror group that governs the Gaza Strip. And he said he would not resign despite dismal poll numbers.

“I want to make clear Israel’s position regarding the ceasefire: Just as the United States would not agree to a ceasefire after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, or after the terrorist attack of 9-11, Israel will not agree to a cessation of hostilities with Hamas after the horrific attacks of Oct. 7,” Netanyahu said at the press conference at the Israel Defense Forces’ headquarters in Tel Aviv. “Calls for a ceasefire are calls for Israel to surrender to Hamas, to surrender to terrorism.”

The press conference occurred days after the Israel Defense Forces expanded a ground invasion of the Gaza Strip following Hamas’ Oct. 7 invasion of Israel, which killed 1,400 and wounded thousands. Hamas terrorists also took some 240 captives in the invasion.

Israel subsequently declared war on Hamas, and the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry says Israeli strikes have killed more than 8,000 people. Hamas has also shot thousands of rockets at cities across Israel.

In response to a question about the civilian death toll in Gaza, Netanyahu claimed that “not a single civilian has to die.” He said Hamas is responsible for civilian casualties in Gaza because it fires at Israel and has its command centers in civilian areas, and prevents civilians from fleeing. He added that Israel told residents of the northern Gaza Strip to evacuate to the southeastern part of the territory, where he said there is a “safe zone.” There have been IDF airstrikes in southern Gaza as well.

“Hamas is preventing them from leaving, keeping them in the areas of conflict,” Netanyahu said. “We’re going out of our way to prevent civilian casualties, not only by asking civilians to move, calling them to move, arranging a place for them to be, which is safe — also putting in humanitarian support.”

He added however, that “even the most just war” leads to the death of innocent civilians, citing the case of a British warplane that targeted the Gestapo headquarters in Copenhagen during World War II but accidentally struck a school, killing children. (Netanyahu inaccurately stated that the plane accidentally hit a children’s hospital.)

Domestically, Netanyahu is facing pressure from families of those taken hostage by Hamas to agree to a large-scale prisoner exchange to secure their freedom. He said on Monday that he and the rest of Israel’s leadership believes that the ground invasion may push Hamas to free the hostages. Israeli forces rescued one hostage soldier on Sunday, and Hamas has released four others. More than 200 remain.

“The ground action actually creates the possibility, not the certainty, but the possibility of actually getting our hostages out,” he said. “Hamas will not do it unless they’re under pressure. They simply will not do it. They only do it under pressure. This creates pressure.”

Wearing a long sleeve black button-down shirt — his standard attire in public appearances since Oct. 7 — Netanyahu also addressed a question regarding calls for his resignation. A majority of Israelis, according to a recent poll, want him to resign after the war, while another poll showed that, in a head-to-head matchup with centrist Benny Gantz, only 28% believe Netanyahu is the best person to lead the country .

He also received flak for a recent social media post, which he later deleted and apologized for, that placed blame for the Oct. 7 massacre on Israel’s military and intelligence chiefs.

“The only thing I intend to have resigned is Hamas,” he said. “We’re going to resign them to the dustbin of history. That’s my goal, that’s my responsibility and that’s what I’m leading the country to do.”

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magdasabs · 9 months

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Nathalie Björn about the football World Cup, the girlfriend and the dream of becoming a pathologist

As a warm-up for the soccer World Cup in Australia and New Zealand, we meet national team star Nathalie Björn, who talks about the blue-yellow golden chances, everyday life in Liverpool with teammate and life partner Aurora Galli - as well as the secret dream of becoming obducent.

It's a homecoming hero settling down with a cappuccino in the flourishing Josef Frank armchair. We'll meet at Soho House in Stockholm, the international members' club housed in a top-renovated old Methodist church on a discreet back street in Östermalm. Nathalie Björn is on a temporary visit to Sweden to forge golden plans with the rest of the Swedish national team squad.

- I want a gold medal. That's just the way it is, says the 26-year-old defender with a smile.

Nathalie Björn in a jacket from Tiger of Sweden. Necklace, Enamel Copenhagen

Nathalie has just been named Player of the Year after her second season at Everton, an award that feels extra honorable as it is her teammates who have voted for her. The big club finished in sixth place in the English Women's Super League, but instead of a long well-deserved holiday, it was just a matter of changing the Everton jersey for the blue-yellow national team uniform and heading home to Sweden for the preparations for the World Cup in New Zealand and Australia.

- It still feels good to get a short breather at home before we go on to the WC. I have a few days now where I can disconnect from football and feel normal before I recharge mentally for New Zealand and Australia.

Easy to forget that I'm actually living the dream

The Swedish national team has been among the top in the world since the end of the 90s and continues to be at the forefront even when the general development in women's football has caught up and more national teams have become increasingly better. In last year's European Championships, Nathalie and the rest of Blågult made it to the semi-finals where they went out against the host nation England. In this summer's world championships, they are hungry for revenge and have great chances for a medal.

- You are so strict with yourself and just want to move on all the time. It's easy to forget that I'm actually living the dream. I represent Sweden in front of packed stadiums, which I dreamed of when I was little. Stepping out of the players' tunnel in front of all the blue and yellow supporters and singing the national anthem together with the best players in Sweden is the best feeling in the world. Nothing beats the pride you feel then.

Playing against the roommate in the football World Cup

The fact that the football World Cup is played down under means that we in Sweden get to follow many of the matches for breakfast, sometimes with kick-off as early as seven o'clock Swedish time. The fact that Sweden ended up in the same group as Italy also means that Nathalie is face to face with her partner Aurora Galli , the Italian midfielder with whom she plays everyday at Everton.

Nathalie Björn and partner Aurora Galli. "It was love at first sight."

Photo: Nathalie Björn/Private

- She signed for Everton at the same time as me, but came to the club earlier because I played in the Olympics in Tokyo. It sounds so corny, but it was love at first sight. I had never had a girlfriend before. I knew I was drawn to personalities whether they were boys or girls, but I had only had boyfriends before. When I came to England I had just broken up with a guy and suddenly I met Aurora and felt it was more than just friendship. It was just such a strong feeling and so it became us. Now we have been together for a year and a half.

Everton FC is based in Liverpool, the classic working-class city in the north of England that gave us both The Beatles and the latest Eurovision Song Contest with Loreen as the winner.

- I like Liverpool. It is an old harbor town, so it is always close to the water, which creates a nice atmosphere. It is a nice town with many good restaurants and shops.

Nathalie and Aurora live in the Liverpool suburb of Huyton in a typical British two-storey red brick house.

- It looks exactly as you imagine. A British terraced house with carpet everywhere except in the bathroom, and a small scrub under the stairs like in Harry Potter where we threw in shoes and bags and all sorts of crap. Outside there is a small garden with artificial grass and a fence.

Nathalie Björn in a dress from Dagmar. Earrings, Pilgrim. Photo: Sanna Dahlén

British suburban life is set in stone, not least for an elite level footballer.

- I won't say it's boring, but it's the same thing all the time. The alarm clock rings just after eight, then we register the day's form via an app on the phones. There you enter how much you have slept or if you have calf pain. When it's finished and sent to the club, we fall asleep again and sleep for another hour or so. At ten o'clock there is breakfast at the training facility, which is ten minutes from home. Classic English breakfast with white beans in tomato sauce, toast, eggs, fried tomato and mushrooms. Afterwards, we warm up with various exercises before going out and practicing football for an hour and a half. Then we shower, eat lunch, work out in the gym, shower again and go home at two. We have a match on Sundays, then it could be the bus down to London and stay there one night in a hotel. We are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. That's what life looks like.

Dreaming of a big house in Sweden

Nathalie and Aurora are, to say the least, a high-achieving couple who represent their respective home countries in football when they are not playing side by side in one of England's most storied clubs. Despite that, or maybe because of that, they talk about everything but football when they get home.

- It happens that we discuss football in the car on the way home from training, but when we get home we want to talk about other things. It's really nice.

In addition to the house in Liverpool, which the couple rents from the football club, Nathalie has just bought an apartment in her childhood city of Uppsala.

- I want to have my own home in Sweden. A fixed point. I'm so tired of living in a suitcase or in a guest room with mom or dad, especially when you're used to living on your own.

Nathalie grew up in the district of Årsta in Uppsala. Mother worked in elderly care and father was a plumber. The parents divorced early and Nathalie was an only child for a long time, but today she has younger siblings on both her mother's and father's side. It was her father who got her to start playing football at the age of four.

Nathalie Björn in a sweater from Adnym Atelier. Trousers, Baum und Pferdgarten. Earrings, Pilgrim and Glitter. Loafers, Vagabond. Photo: Sanna Dahlén

- He was an old footballer himself and made me invest in football instead of dancing, even though I still love to dance. Dad often visits England and has been to all the championships, except the Olympics in Tokyo when we played without an audience due to the pandemic. Mother doesn't have time to come as often, but she is there as often as she can. Both mum and dad are very proud of me. I really feel that.

In the future, Nathalie dreams of a big house in Sweden and another one in Italy.

- I'm not so much in favor of burning money on sports cars, but I want to save up and build my own house near my family and friends. The dream is to have a house in Uppsala and a house in Italy. Maybe in Tromello where the girl is from, it's a small village in northern Italy, an hour outside of Milan. The girl says you can't have two houses because it costs too much money, but we'll see.

Any plans for children lie further ahead and are not as straightforward as for the colleagues on the men's side who can let wives, girlfriends and nannies do the grunt work. Nathalie glances at how her older national team mates solve that part.

- Right now I don't want children, but one day. I have no idea how long I will play football. Caroline Seger is 38 and Hedvig Lindahl 40, so there is a lot of time left. It can be difficult to start a family during your career. If you could do like Elin Rubensson and have children and then come back to the national team, it would be awesome. Also, I'm with a girl, which can also prolong the process, so I have no idea. Regardless, it's marriage that counts first and foremost, my girl jokes. She is Italian and traditional. But there is no stress.

Nathalie Björn lives in a terraced house in Liverpool with her girlfriend and teammate Aurora Galli. Photo: Sanna Dahlén / Sanna Dahlén

Expected to have an opinion like a football player

The football world is more politically charged than ever. Last year's controversial men's World Cup in Qatar was more about politics than football and was marred by protests, boycotts and wild debates. When it became clear earlier this year that rainbow colored captain's armbands will also be banned during the women's soccer World Cup this summer, just like for the men in Qatar, the debate flared up again. Although the discussions make sense and it's never wrong to use your platform to highlight important issues, the idea of football as a non-political arena can feel more attractive than ever. As a player, it is not enough to spend all your waking hours pushing your body and psyche to the limit in order to be the best, but you also have to have an opinion about rainbow bandages and the gender pay gap, and be fully educated about how small desert nations stand on human rights.

Nathalie Björn in the national team jersey. Photo: FREDRIK JONASSON / STELLA PICTURES

- You are always expected to have an opinion, especially as a female footballer, but sometimes you don't. Most recently, it was the rainbow ties and the prize money in the World Cup that people were talking about. Often you haven't even reflected on these political things and try to answer as best you can. Then it looks as if you are whining in the media.

Managing the media is difficult. British tabloid press is notorious and Nathalie steeled herself before moving to a country as football-crazy as England, but today she feels that British media are far more stimulating than the Swedish ones.

- You always hear that the British press is so terrible, but I feel that they are much nicer than the Swedish media. Even if we win, there will often be complaints afterwards, critical questions asked and negative views. Perhaps it is typically Swedish. We are celebrated in a completely different way in England.

Nathalie Björn in top from Viktoria Chan. Pants, Teurn Studios. Jewelry, Nootka. Slippers, Birkenstock.

Nathalie Björn in top from Viktoria Chan. Pants, Teurn Studios. Jewelry, Nootka. Slippers, Birkenstock. Photo: Sanna Dahlén

When Nathalie is not playing soccer, she wallows in blood and murder. Crime series such as Criminal minds , True detective and Mindhunter replace each other in front of the TV sofa at home in Liverpool and the interest in murder mysteries does not stop there.

- I studied forensic psychology to learn how the brain of a serial killer works. It was part of the course to attend a trial, so I brought Caroline Seger with me when we both played in Rosengård. It was a drug case where a guy had been smoking weed and we happened to be late. All eyes turned to us as we stepped into the minimal courtroom. The perpetrator and the prosecutors understood nothing: What the hell is the Swedish national team doing here? It was so stiff.

Dreaming of becoming a pathologist

The 26-year-old has a secret plan B for the day it's time to put the football boots on the shelf.

- I have a strange dream and it is to become a pathologist. I want to be able to say: Okay, this is the cause of death. I don't know if I want to be a pathologist, but I definitely could have been a nurse and then an assistant medical examiner. I've looked that up a bit, and it's only a three-year degree.

Nathalie Björn looks out over the grand hall at Soho House, bathed in the kaleidoscopic summer light of the church windows.

- But first I have to win the WC.

The Swedish national soccer team showed its support for Iran's women at an international match against France last fall. Back row from left: Nathalie Björn, Amanda Ilestedt, Zećira Mušović, Stina Blackstenius, Lina Hurtig and Magdalena Eriksson. Front row from left: Filippa Angeldahl, Elin Rubensson, Kosovare Asllani, Olivia Schough and Jonna Andersson. Photo: BJÖRN LARSSON ROSVALL/TT / TT NEWS AGENCY

#nathalie björn

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indepwom101 · 1 year

Text

🇩🇰 Queen Margrethe II of Denmark

Tuesday, May 2, 2023

“The Royal ship Dannebrog today set out of Copenhagen Harbor with Her Majesty the Queen on board.

The sailing was the first of the year under the Kingflag, and the traditional boarding marked the start of this year's sailing season, which among other things brings the Majesty on a late summer cruise to Vordingborg, Randers and Fredericia municipalities.

The cannons on Battery Sixtus fired 27 shots while the Royal Ship passed, after which the 91-year-old royal ship continued to Helsingør to receive salute from the cannons at Kronborg Castle.”

#danish royal family #queen margrethe ii

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heraldofcrow · 1 year

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Through the magic of Girl Power you gain the ability to outline and design Bloodborne 2; what would be the plot, setting, and final boss?

Thanks be for the magic of Girl Power!

—

Well, anon…I’m gonna be honest, this is not something I have thought in depth about, but I do know one thing. The setting would be oceanic because Miyazaki needs to stop beating around the bush and give us that “Age of the Deep” thing he hints at in every game.

I mean, the guy gave us a flying stingray boss in Demon’s Souls, a hint about the Deep in the Dark Souls games, the entire Kos/Ocean connection in Bloodborne, and more oversized sea creatures on land in Elden Ring! He wants to make an oceanic themed game, I know it.

It would just need whales. (This is very relevant).

So, I would want a maritime city with classic Gothic architecture like Bloodborne, and the opportunity for aquatic exploration.

(Copenhagen Harbor by Moonlight—Johan Christian Dahl).

(Canny Glasgow by John Atkinson Grimshaw, 1887)

I recommend this article on Grimshaw’s moonlit paintings to get more of the “Victorian city by the sea” vibe I’m talking about. Complete with Moonlight Sonata as well.

—

The dev team for FromSoft were obsessing over Prague and Romania for Bloodborne, and so oddly enough, the Victorian London inspiration is limited. I must admit, I would want a game that drew on it more, but in the classic FromSoft way, where we would see the murk and decrepit side to it all.

I’m a heavy Charles Dickens fan, so I admit, the grime and grit of Victorian London’s impoverished slums is something I’d love to crawl through in a Miyazaki game. The supernatural, macabre ghost-tales of Gothic literature could also play a huge role in adding to the horror, and naturally, the seas surrounding the city would be sure to hold some dark, Lovecraftian creatures that a few unfortunate souls were foolish enough to trifle with.

The city setting would be slick with snow and sleet and mud, full of dimming lanterns and raving passersby. Curiosity shops full of unique items, sequestered clinics, carnival grounds, illusionist theatres, bloody cabarets, etc.. would line the streets, with fog lingering over the phantom harbors in the distance.

Blood serum and serum therapy is all the rave in this mysterious city—serum being the “pure liquid blood” that does not clot in the human body, and when sought for in gods, is thought to be the answer for clean ministration. (They never learn).

The city would flood and become reshaped halfway through the game, the sea having swallowed it. The stars would play a more prevalent part in place of the moon, guiding the player deeper into the waters and lower levels of consciousness. The mind descends into the deep after all, and perhaps in the darker parts of human consciousness, the gods commune more freely.

Down into the depths you go, drifting pasts ghosts and the translucent gods of the sea, only to uncover the terror and beauty within. The grand twist of the game would be revealed at this point, when you suddenly realize that the city’s apparent normality was the subconscious ideal of an old god the entire time, and the city is on par with an illusionist’s smoke and mirror show.

It had been lying in flooded ruins all along, and the more you tampered with the state of rest of the old god, the more its reverie was shattered and the truth revealed.

That would be the final boss and your final choice in the game. You could either allow the creature to return to its rest and hide the world from the horrors beyond the veil, or else battle it and become the successor, now able to use your own consciousness to manipulate your surrounding reality.

You would be able to choose to unveil the terrible tragedy of the sea-bound city, or keep all as it is. The ending would naturally be ambiguous.

The design for the final boss would not be something I am clever enough to come up with, but I would want it to manifest in the sea of fog, where the sky and ocean meet, and where time is more of a dream than a reality. It would be our endpoint in the game.

—

Some extra details:

Our level-up haven would be on a ship docked at the harbor.

(Piotr Łukasz - Mglisty poranek w Gdańsku (fotografia), 2022)

The enemies in the city would appear normal when you first arrived, but with each passing benchmark, you would begin to see the beastly mutations. Naturally, it would be aquatic like the villagers of the Fishing Hamlet.

This game’s version of Cainhurst would be an old manor on the outskirts of the city instead of a vampiric castle.

The previous themes in Souls games about the sea of fog would be extremely relevant here.

Dreams of sleep were the theme of the first game, but perhaps for this one, it would be something more akin to a reverie or daydream, with themes of hallucination and illusions also present.

—

I’m curious if anyone wants to add onto this concept or if they have other ideas to share!! This is just a glimpse of how I picture a sequel to Bloodborne. Not that we really need one, but I also do know it would be pretty cool if we did get something more from the Bloodborne universe. Cheers anon!

#sorry this took so long #my inbox has been really active lately so i had to take it slow but i hope this was a satisfactory response! <3 #asks #anonymous #bloodborne #bloodborne 2

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tackypies · 9 months

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Tacky i NEED to hear more about your opinions on Andersen and his stories. Your post on the Snow Queen got me HOOKED

god forgive me for what i'm about to unleash <audhd

hc andersen has been pigeonholed into being a children-only author by english speakers because of poor translations and european attitudes towards fairy tales. if we're to understand the complexity of his stories, we need to understand a bit about hca as a man, because every single story he's written is autobiographical in some shape, way, or form. he cannot be removed from his stories, because his stories ARE him

hc andersen was born in the provincial danish town of odense in 1805, which lagged behind the "modern" world. it was a unique city because it retained the rural traditions and superstitions of the local folk while also serving as a gathering place for cosmopolitan nobles and rich merchants. this was crucial to hca's development bc he was exposed to one of the few theaters in all of denmark, was able to mingle with the upper classes, and was able to learn his folk roots through stories and practices

his father was a cobbler who harbored dreams of going to school, but never made it. his mother was an illiterate washerwoman, pious and superstitious. hca was a single child - very rare for the time! - and as a result his parents pampered him the best they could despite living in the slums. his father often read stories to him and created puppet theaters out of scrap, while his mother exposed him to folk traditions. there's so much more i could say about his parents, but needless to say his upbringing had such a huge impact on him that you can see them again and again as characters in his stories

andersen was not a typical child. he was dreamy, he was gawky and large, he wove flower garlands and sewed clothes for dolls instead of playing with other boys, and he harbored delusions of grandeur which were encouraged by his family, that he was destined for Greater Things. he was heavily bullied by all the other kids and from an early age on, he sought the company of middle and upper class families by performing (i.e. singing, putting on a show) for them. he IS the ugly duckling. i'm skipping a great deal of things, but long story short is, from an early age hca learned to perform for others in order to be seen as Special and Wanted. he left for copenhagen at the age of 14 to make his "debut" as an actor - despite knowing no one - and had to beg and perform his way into upper class homes once again to garner their pity and financial support

this couldn't have worked out for him in another time. when andersen arrived in copenhagen, the romantic movement was burgeoning. there was the belief that talent could be nurtured and grown if a student was Properly Civilized, and hca happened to be an excellent charity case. he eventually caught the eye of the collins family, who funded his schooling

there's so so many events i'm skipping over once again for the sake of brevity, but the long and short of it is that hca's success as an author - and his financial stability - depended on the collins' patronage for a very long time, to the point where he gained an obsession/crush on edvard collins, the man charged with helping andersen's career. i'm talking about "sending homoerotically charged letters to the guy when he's about to be married and being denied an invitation to said wedding bc the family's afraid you'll cause a scene and make an embarrassment, and also bc you wrote your first draft of the little mermaid based on your conversations with said guy" levels of crush.

as a queer, neurodivergent writer, andersen resonates with me so much. he's very much a writer for those on the outskirts of society. he expressed disapproval over the united states forcing native americans out of their territories and sympathized heavily with jews, at a time when religious tolerance wasn't high. he struggled with his attraction to men and women (he once wrote to edvard collins he desired to kiss him as if edvard were a woman and had an affair with a male dancer in his later years) and his own expression of masculinity, per the gender roles of 19th century europe, and frequently referred to himself as having a "feminine nature" - though this shouldn't be taken as him identifying as a woman (more on that later maybe?)

his stories are heavily christian in their message and symbolism, but you have to remember that this was the cultural language at the time. his relationship with faith can also be seen as his attempt to find faith in humanity - and he has SUCH a rocky relationship with faith throughout his lifetime. his stories are social commentaries as much as entertainment for children - and his later tales illustrate his more metaphorical, cynical side. just look at this chilling summary of "the most incredible thing":

this is commentary that stands true even to this day! holy shit!

if you want to read more about hca, i highly recommend the following books:

hca is a fascinating author who, unfortunately, suffered gravely from poor translations and preconceived notions of what fairy tales are. when you read his stories, you have to read them understanding that 1) how andersen portrays his characters is often reflective of his OWN childhood experiences and 2) what andersen writes is an excising of his internal struggles and questions - questions of faith, of his sexuality, of his views on society, of feeling like an outsider who must always perform up until the very end of his life. his struggles are human - and that's why his stories have such power even to this day

all in all:

(from wullschlager's intro to nunnally's translation:)

biographies

hans christian andersen: european witness - paul binding

hans christian andersen: the life of a storyteller - jackie wullschlager

hans christian andersen: a new life - jen andersen

translations

hans christian andersen: fairy tales - tiina nunnally

the annotated hans christian andersen - maria tatar

#asks #vivienna-vivid #im so sorry. im deranged #hans christian andersen

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liminalpebble · 1 year

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The Refugee: Chapter 38

Masterlist Link

It had been almost a week now of Loki's careful watch over Lenora, and she was chafing at the lack of privacy, though she begrudgingly admitted it was necessary. She had mended herself with a hasty patch of mental distraction, focusing on the Jotun war, but the stitches were straining. It could only be temporary.

When the king couldn't be by her side, she was sent to medical, rolling her eyes and protesting inwardly, but not bothering to voice it. The kind medic who had been so supportive, and the only one to stand up for her along the way, was always there to meet her. Lea had learned that the doctor's name was Majbrit, and the older lady had a soft spot for the stubborn refugee.

Lea was nervous the first time, expecting to be strapped into a bed and given some kind of sedation or medication to make her behave more conveniently, but she was pleasantly surprised to find that wasn't the case. Instead, she followed Majbrit's bobbing head of gray hair and bright chatty guidance to a pleasant parlor in which to spend her time. Majbrit always had food ready, knowing that Lenora had probably forgotten to eat in her depressed haze. The doctor also encouraged her to bring her work with her to occupy her mind and give herself some normalcy.

Lenora feared it would be like some kind of embarrassing babysitting, with nothing of use to do. She quickly learned that this wasn't at all the case, as Majbrit's kind gray eyes and wise lined face never regarded her with anything but dignity; not pity, not patronization. Vlad often attended these sessions, and seemed to like Majbrit, seeing how well she was treating his favorite person. He even graciously allowed the motherly woman to pet him. Once Lea would finally relax and settle in for the day, Majbrit would try to ease her into talking and unraveling her trauma. The matron wasn't particularly surprised to find the young lady resistant to help, turning politely but with determination back to her work.

Sitting across from each other one morning, over breakfast, the doctor sighed heavily as she set her cup down. “Lea, you can't just bury everything, dear. These things have a way of coming back over and over again if we don't sort them out.”

Lea gave a wan smile and held the woman's hand. “Majbrit, I am grateful for your efforts to heal me, but realistically, I'm still a prisoner here. For now Loki's being kind, yes, but I'm always in a state of fear and uncertainty, and now I'm facing a future of responsibilities that I am not at all ready to handle. How can I not be terrified? It seems I can swallow the pain and work, or I can let it all engulf me and fall apart like I did the night you patched me up. What other options do I have?”

“You can talk to me,” she said slowly, simply, and earnestly, meeting Lenora's gaze for a long moment. “You're trying to mastermind your way out of this...solve the equation...plan your attack. But it doesn't work like that, Lenora. This takes a different kind of intelligence to recover from, and its own time.”

Vlad jumped into Lenora's lap, coiling into a warm purring mass on her thighs as she obliged him with soft, pensive, strokes. She paused, then said, “I...I don't know what to say, or where to start.”

“You don't have to know. Just be present with me. The words will come.”

Lea tightened her grip on Majbrit's hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

----

The harbor in Copenhagen was radiant that morning, as the sun rose, pink and gold and full of promise. On a park bench, a handsome red-headed man sat with one bobbing slender leg crossed over the other and a steaming take away cup warming his hands. Magnus was a morning person; he always had been.

His human friends remarked that he had the kind of face where it was difficult to tell his age; youthful, graceful, and luminous but with unnaturally wise and ancient green eyes. He wondered how surprised they'd be if they knew. Today his pale skin had a pink flush of cold chafing and his eyes flushed red, as if he had been crying, and had cried often lately. He held a little polished rock of blackish-purple stone tight in his hand and rolled its satisfying smooth surface between his fingers; a parting gift from Lea at the harbor. It had been so long since he'd poked at the aching memories of his former life.

Magnus remembered how, at first, this existence felt like an ill-fitting suit. In fact, literally, even his Midgardian clothing, though more comfortable than Asgardian clothes, felt wrong for a few years, like wearing another man's outfits. He would never have settled in, not without Astrid's patience and love, not without his child to look forward to. He smiled warmly, thinking of them and smiling at the little gold ring on his finger.

For the first time in 6 years he was faced with Loki again. His message sent a shiver of white hot anger through him, but the emperor's tone was serious and fair, though still not contrite. Magnus sighed, disoriented by Loki's small change of heart in just...what had it been for him? Three months? But Magnus knew all too well that it took a good deal less than three months for Loki to change and change again. The question was whether or not this was a change for the better, and whether or not it would persist. He had wished for that before, was certain Loki was capable of it, and his faith in his oldest friend was punished mercilessly.

Loki's letter was brief, a precise message in his precise hand:

Magnus,

As of today, I've reinstated your temporal magical protections. Your time flow is now synchronized to the time of our realm for the sake of communication with your family in Asgard, however, your exile remains in effect. Do not attempt to contact Laufeyhavn. It would be in vain.

He didn't know how to feel about it. It was an unexpected mercy, certainly, but a strangely cold one. How he wished Lenora was here to advise him, how he wished for her friendship and strength. She was the one who knew how to weather the sorrow of flights and exiles, who navigated them as nimbly and competently as a fish in water. What he wouldn't give for her to sit with him and Astrid this morning, with tea and a sandwich, he thought smiling and looking to the paper bag and empty bench beside him.

How he wished Lea could meet his daughter. She would be arriving soon; only a couple month yet, according to Astrid. Would Lea be proud of his strength in fulfilling their promises? Was she even alive? Magnus ached knowing that if she was alive and aware of his situation she would certainly be brokenhearted, regardless of how much she wanted it for him. He was fairly certain Lenora must be alive and that Loki was lying. He was far too covetous of her to kill her; had worked too hard to force her to his side for anything short of possessing her. Magnus could feel her living presence in the universe, as if she were seeing him now, but Lea herself would scold him for trusting a feeling.

He felt a pang of guilt at wanting Lea there, but he realized there was nothing to be sorry for. She had mattered very much to him and they had loved each other. Just because it ended didn't mean it wasn't beautiful and important and to be treasured. He realized it was her friendship he missed above all else about her. The potent lust had dissolved after so much time, becoming less and less important or insistent. At the core of things, he missed his dear friend.

The doctor sighed unhappily, but when he raised his eyes to see his lovely wife walking with her long strides to meet him, his face transformed into the warmest kind of joy. Astrid's beaming light chased away the clouds of his rumination. He stood to greet her and kiss her, then they settled themselves companionably on the bench. He handed her a sandwich and a warm cup of her own.

Astrid, always perceptive, met his eyes with her deep blue ones and understood. “You miss her, don't you?” she said, stroking his cheek comfortingly.

Magnus stuttered, “Uh...yeah, I do. But not like that, love.” He said squeezing her hand reassuringly.

She released a musical little laugh. “I know that, silly Magnus. I know you. It would be written all over that honest face of yours.”

He lowered his eyes sheepishly. God, he loved her. She was more secure in herself than anyone he had ever met. She was like bedrock, and never seemed to know a moment of intimidation or jealousy. After a lifetime of friendship with Loki, who made his insecurities everyone else's massive problem, Astrid entered the most sorrowful time of his life as a blessed beacon of the clarity and stability he had never enjoyed before. Astrid said, clearly and with the deepest sincerity, “I greatly hope that you will see her again and that I can meet her. I wish she could meet our family. I want to thank the woman who fought for my beloved's life.”

Magnus smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “I think you would like each other very much, the two strongest people I've ever known,” he said and then couldn't say anymore as his voice hitched, thwarting tears. His wife stroked her warm encouraging hand over his back, as she had done countless times before, and together they hoped for, and looked forward to, an even brighter future.

Magnus and Astrid couldn't know that across the universe, time, and space, Lenora had just woken from her three month sleep, and was viewing their meeting without hearing their words, only Loki's gloating narration, as she crumbled. What none of them knew at that moment, especially not Loki himself as he enacted one of his cruelest acts of revenge, is that there was still hope for the villain. The good that Lenora and Magnus had discovered within him would soon breech the surface of his black waters of amorality, his conscience reanimated by rescuing Lenora from a sea of blood and glass. It had transformed him, like a baptism. The deluge of shards cut to his heart more effectively than any surgeon's blade, revealing that it still beat with something other than anger or avarice. There was hope for him after all, small but tenacious, like Lea herself.

@gigglingtigger @lokisgoodgirl @goblingirlsarah @unlucky-number-13 @thedistractedagglomeration @thenerdyoldersister @peaches1958 @sweetsigyn

#loki fanfic

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