#balkan type beat

[itstokkii]

I have a lot of Balkan and Turkish friends and we always like to joke about how the Balkans definitely like to tease Turkey about stuff from the past while they all go out and drink together. Or they sometimes just show up uninvited to crash at Turkey’s place and they spend the night eating sunflower seeds on the couch and watching crappy old school TV drama’s.

Drives me mad how some people make Turkey abusive towards the countries that used to be under the Ottoman Empire. The only other character I see that gets this treatment often is Russia.

I think it can be interesting to explore past empires relations with their rulers/governments and how much say they actually had in how things were done (and I mean this is interesting to explore with the Hetalia characters in general imo) bet it’s very telling when some people are like “yep England/France/etc were forced but Turkey was 100% on board with everything” like… that’s just weird. I don’t think we have to make the nations completely agree with their governments on everything all of the time or be unable to have a personality and their own ideas separate from their rulers but it’s strange to say the least when people pick and choose who this applies to.

ahh I like that headcanon! or maybe turkey also crashes at their place sometimes too!

I wonder if this general treatment of the balkans' relationship to turkey is because many place the colonizer/colonized relationship as a monolith with no nuance to it... and turkey colonized many regions, not just the balkans. I feel each of them were treated a bit different, so at the end of the day it's important to listen to people from those regions.

its a bit confusing to think of what the country personification would do when it comes to oppressive govts, plans of invasion, etc. I like to think that because the country represents both the government and people, I would place the country's stance based on the people.

ex: south korea during the military dictatorship -> people largely opposed it and secretly tried to spread democracy -> korea is absolutely unwilling to do as the government says, has no choice, but sides with the people at the end of the day and may even aid their democratization efforts

if it was a policy like invasion of a land, and the people were on board with it as well, I would place the country to side with the invasion whether it was a good-natured policy or not. france, russia, and heck most western empires fall under this category. the mischaracterization of poc in this fandom, like with turkey always being the assaulter/abuser and france "crying in bed in 2005 thinking about his warcrimes in north africa" roots from racism imo. "oriental barbarian" vs "the civilized french gentleman" type beat.

[dolores-slay]

Scared to post this on twitter cause I shudder at the types of people it could attract unless heavily censored, but as people may or may not know I'm from Croatia which was one of the countries whose representatives voted against immediate humanitarian ceasfire in the UN a few days ago. I can't say anything like 'I'm ashamed of my country' because I'm really not. I cannot be ashamed for an entity that doesn't even represent me or people like me. I love this place and its people but our government is a sham and this is not on any singular political party or politician but on governments being a sham in general and on a wide array of issues with this country specifically. And I don't see it getting better any time soon. Playing geopolitics is now mandatory and playing geopolitics is also a game with predetermined winners and everyone else losing, not a game at all really. Really bad theatre, more like.

Morover I feel a lot of people here are willfully uneducated and mired in their xenophobia to even humanely look on the situation in Gaza, and if they do identify it is due to inept projection of the events in the Balkans in the war three decades ago. These conflicts might be fundamentally different but both have a genocidal outcome and some are afraid that acknowledging that what the goverment of Israel is doing is monstrous would mean having to acknowledge that some acts of 'their' forces could have actually been monstrous too and that there WAS truth to the international outrage they sparked. But I repeat, these contexts are different, and conflating them is naive at best and disrespectful to the unique circumstances of every conflict.

I don't even feel the need to say 'this is not the will of the Croatian people' because I am not sure that would be true. I don't think the majority of Croatian people are excited about genocide and hospital and school bombings and chemical weapons, but what the majority absolutely is is deeply, painfully apathetic. I fear the Croatian people have no will, and that is somehow even worse than having a will to do wrong. There is a deep sickness in this country of not caring and beating down everyone who does as a naive idiot or someone with an agenda. My generation is lost, but I pray the generations now becoming adults are different, that in the decades to come we as a 'people' can stop living like dogs and I pray it happens before antihuman monsters like the extreme christian right kneeling in our capital's main square against the right of people like me to be seen as full humans use this nation's apathy to destroy the little hope we have left of becoming better. That is all.

[acebytaemin]

Top five taemin songs?

i didn’t even see this!! i am very bad at lists of this type especially when it’s someone so dear to me but let me tell you my feelings as of right now which may not be the same in 5 minutes’ time 🫡

1. ACE because my first taemin song and always my favorite 🩵

2. PRETTY BOYYYYY know your balkan kpop roots it’s so good it’s got two of the prettiest best friends i ever did see.. not to mention both the music show stage and the off sick version are living very dearly in my head. i remember the moment of streaming off sick and hearing the first beat of pretty boy and flying off into literal outer space

3. Move and Want - imo the hallmarks of taemin growing into himself. definitely the most iconic girls they are always hand in hand in my heart. i own both versions of both albums they’re my taeminest taemin songs if that makes sense

4. IDEA.. absolute insanity. let’s start from KWON BOA as a casual feature??? one of the peaks of taemin using Catholicism to his advantage bc nothing in this whole wide world makes me feel like ‘you are my messiah… killing me *sickest most heavy hard dirty beat drop with STRINGS* ..he’s off the fucking wall

5. Advice and Criminal. listen they are tied here because i couldn’t mention one and leave out the other and it goes like: criminal is so deliciously poppy and replay friendly but it’s so sultry sexy at the same time and one of my most listened to taemin songs it’s just so addictive but advice knocked me off kilter she’s so weird and high pitched and FUN and i adore the dance and the FITS he is so wholly excellent to me i am so honestly thrilled and delighted to get to watch him grow and can’t wait for what’s next!!!

[motorclit]

Finally finished the Hearts of Stone DLC storyline for The Witcher 3.

People have said that Gaunter O'Dimm is a terrifying character. I beg to differ. Just don't make any pacts with him.

He's a neat spin on the whole making a pact with the devil at a crossroads type of story. I guess you could call him the Witcher's devil for that universe. Shit, you even have a clever character (Geralt) beat the devil at his own game by putting his own soul on the line. Love it.

The character isn't scary to me, though? Not like many others think? Then again, I also find leshens in the Witcher 3 neat-looking while other fans are frightened by its appearance. In fact, I'm toying with the idea of having one tattooed on my calf since I love the design so much.

I'll be starting the Blood and Wine expansion either today or tomorrow. The big reason why I'm excited is because Regis is in it (the only goddamn vampire I give a shit about that isn't Dracula) when he supposedly died in the books. There's apparently bad vampires in this? And vampires are pretty big in Serbian folklore (not entirely sure on Slavic folklore as a whole, but definitely in a part of the Balkans). Also, I recall in the books thay vampires are supposedly stupid-hard to kill, so I got no idea what to expect in the game. I'm just glad I'm able to have Superior Black Blood brewed up so no bloodsuckers go without asking why Geralt's so spicy.

[imadudeenaugustsarvahusayn]

100) Tulus M Tujuh Welaskhu, 💯

🙏, biru Balkan & Eropah gaes.

Alhamdulillah... Sendika dawuh Mas Mas & Mbak Mbak gagah pintar, semoga ke depan seperti biasa, intinya ga dilihat njenengan karena ga suka cara gaya jalannya İmad type beat. Besok pas gandeng Sonia cs. tak menghindar.

Nak Haji & Umrah ketemu wongan gagah pembela ampun mundur. Nak neng Eropah ketemu wong keren emak diaspora bangga lan anak muda bebas ekspresi tak nderek sendika dawuh pikurmat ampun.

[serversmains]

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[warsofasoiaf]

Say to preempt the Harrenhal plot, Aerys decides to redo Summerhall, because the pyromancers assure him they'll get it right, and he wipes out his whole family, Rhaegar, Viserys, Elia, the babies. Robert is next in line, but the circumstances are different. The rebels acclaimed him because they were fighting for their survival and needed the legitimacy of a king, but they don't have that incentive now. Can he take the throne without a war? Or does Westeros Balkanize?

That sounds like a picture-perfect recipe for a Great Council-type scenario to decide what happens next. The problem with predicting the outcome of the Great Council is that we would still have Rickard Stark, one of the chief organizers of Southron Ambitions, still remaining, and we don't know what his motivations are. It's possible that Westeros fractures into Seven Kingdoms, especially since if some kings don't want to swear loyalty, Robert would have to launch an aggressive war which is a lot harder than beating most of the combined enemy forces on the Trident.

If it does break up into the Seven Kingdoms, I'd imagine that the Reach would have the toughest go as families that have a better claim to Highgarden make claim to being the new kings of the Reach. You would probably see the other kingdoms perhaps supporting their favorite candidate. The regions that would handle it the best would probably be the ones whose families were the original rulers of their component regions of the Seven Kingdoms and so preserve a tradition of rule as they return to the pre-Targaryen system of doing things, that means the Arryns, Lannisters, Martells, and Starks (and the Baratheons, who draw descent from the Durrandons and had the whole Lyonel Baratheon Storm King thing going on before). The Tullys might have trouble consolidating their hold on the Riverlands, and the Iron Islands might have a problem either with ambitious Lord Reavers declaring themselves the new Iron King and periodic fights between the Old Way and the New.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[settledthingsstrange]

Under Which Lyre

A REACTIONARY TRACT FOR THE TIMES

(Phi Beta Kappa Poem, Harvard, 1946)

Ares at last has quit the field, The bloodstains on the bushes yield    To seeping showers, And in their convalescent state The fractured towns associate    With summer flowers. Encamped upon the college plain Raw veterans already train    As freshman forces; Instructors with sarcastic tongue Shepherd the battle-weary young    Through basic courses. Among bewildering appliances For mastering the arts and sciences    They stroll or run, And nerves that steeled themselves to slaughter Are shot to pieces by the shorter    Poems of Donne. Professors back from secret missions Resume their proper eruditions,    Though some regret it; They liked their dictaphones a lot, They met some big wheels, and do not    Let you forget it. But Zeus' inscrutable decree Permits the will-to-disagree    To be pandemic, Ordains that vaudeville shall preach And every commencement speech    Be a polemic. Let Ares doze, that other war Is instantly declared once more   'Twixt those who follow Precocious Hermes all the way And those who without qualms obey    Pompous Apollo. Brutal like all Olympic games, Though fought with smiles and Christian names    And less dramatic, This dialectic strife between The civil gods is just as mean,    And more fanatic. What high immortals do in mirth Is life and death on Middle Earth;    Their a-historic Antipathy forever gripes All ages and somatic types,    The sophomoric Who face the future's darkest hints With giggles or with prairie squints    As stout as Cortez, And those who like myself turn pale As we approach with ragged sail    The fattening forties. The sons of Hermes love to play And only do their best when they    Are told they oughtn't; Apollo's children never shrink From boring jobs but have to think    Their work important. Related by antithesis, A compromise between us is    Impossible; Respect perhaps but friendship never: Falstaff the fool confronts forever     The prig Prince Hal. If he would leave the self alone, Apollo's welcome to the throne,    Fasces and falcons; He loves to rule, has always done it; The earth would soon, did Hermes run it,    Be like the Balkans. But jealous of our god of dreams, His common-sense in secret schemes     To rule the heart; Unable to invent the lyre, Creates with simulated fire    Official art. And when he occupies a college, Truth is replaced by Useful Knowledge;    He pays particular Attention to Commercial Thought, Public Relations, Hygiene, Sport,    In his curricula. Athletic, extrovert and crude, For him, to work in solitude    Is the offence, The goal a populous Nirvana: His shield bears this device: Mens sana    Qui mal y pense. Today his arms, we must confess, From Right to Left have met success,    His banners wave From Yale to Princeton, and the news From Broadway to the Book Reviews    Is very grave. His radio Homers all day long In over-Whitmanated song    That does not scan, With adjectives laid end to end, Extol the doughnut and commend    The Common Man. His, too, each homely lyric thing On sport or spousal love or spring    Or dogs or dusters, Invented by some court-house bard For recitation by the yard    In filibusters. To him ascend the prize orations And sets of fugal variations    On some folk-ballad, While dietitians sacrifice A glass of prune-juice or a nice    Marsh-mallow salad. Charged with his compound of sensational Sex plus some undenominational    Religious matter, Enormous novels by co-eds Rain down on our defenceless heads    Till our teeth chatter. In fake Hermetic uniforms Behind our battle-line, in swarms   That keep alighting, His existentialists declare That they are in complete despair,   Yet go on writing. No matter; He shall be defied; White Aphrodite is on our side:   What though his threat To organize us grow more critical? Zeus willing, we, the unpolitical,   Shall beat him yet. Lone scholars, sniping from the walls Of learned periodicals,   Our facts defend, Our intellectual marines, Landing in little magazines   Capture a trend. By night our student Underground At cocktail parties whisper round   From ear to ear; Fat figures in the public eye Collapse next morning, ambushed by   Some witty sneer. In our morale must lie our strength: So, that we may behold at length   Routed Apollo's Battalions melt away like fog, Keep well the Hermetic Decalogue,   Which runs as follows:— Thou shalt not do as the dean pleases, Thou shalt not write thy doctor's thesis   On education, Thou shalt not worship projects nor Shalt thou or thine bow down before   Administration. Thou shalt not answer questionnaires Or quizzes upon World-Affairs,   Nor with compliance Take any test. Thou shalt not sit With statisticians nor commit   A social science. Thou shalt not be on friendly terms With guys in advertising firms,   Nor speak with such As read the Bible for its prose, Nor, above all, make love to those   Who wash too much. Thou shalt not live within thy means Nor on plain water and raw greens.   If thou must choose Between the chances, choose the odd; Read The New Yorker, trust in God;   And take short views.

—W.H. Auden

[alatismeni-theitsa]

How would you differentiate between positive and negative cultural appropriation, considering that it is a neutral term in the case of the Greek people?

continuing: (by positive cultural appropriation I refer to the natural exchange and mingling of cultures over time) _____________________________________________________

If I remember correctly, “cultural appropriation” actually refers to positive cultural exchange but it came to be used negatively in our days. I believe “cultural misappropriation” is the correct negative term. It seems that most of modern Greeks above the age of 30 are not aware that this term exists. So I don’t know if it is a “neutral term” for us, since we are not very aware of it xD

There is a ton of positive appropriation happening worldwide! Infinite cultural mixes have happened in every way! But I am most familiar with cultures that have interacted with Greece so I will give examples of this type of appropriation regarding this. 

Greek music sounds a lot like Middle Eastern and Arab music (or THEY sound like Greek music haha!) Greeks and Turks have co-existed for so long that in some cases we have the same traditional songs (in Greek and Turkish respectively) or the same melodies. Greeks used the language Karamanlidika, which was Turkish mixed with some Greek but written in the Greek alphabet.

I am eating Muesli right now, which was invented by a Swiss (people ate grains for breakfast before, it’s just the specific type that came from Switzerland).

When it comes to food, the Chinese diaspora in Greece has opened many restaurants with their cuisine and Chinese is a fave of us, even though China is soooo far away! Not even Italian food is that high in our preference. Also, many Chinese people come to the Greek islands for their weddings because of the aesthetic. Chinese are, in general, admirers of the Greek culture (thank you guys!!) and Chinese tourists are to be found in every ancient site! 

The Japanese band Pyramidos sings Greek traditional songs IN GREEK, using Greek traditional instruments and Greeks LOVE them! (I am a hardcore fan xD)

Heck, the Evil Eye is part of many cultures today but it started from one region - from what I know it was probably the Balkan peninsula Hellenic area, since I have only there seen eyes used for protection in antiquity.

Fashion is also an interesting element! Especially in our “international village” we are exposed to different types of fashion. You will surely have seen sweaters with Finnish patterns, dresses with Bohemian (Czech) patterns, hankerchiefs with “lahoor” designs (sorry, idk its name in English!) and many more are availiable in many countries. Sistinct cultural fashion is availiable for purchase by anyone (if it’s not something sacred and if the sellers want to share their craft with the world).

A Pakistani friend living in Greece is very happy drawing henna designs in her friends’ hands. Henna designs stalls also exist in some Greek tourist places - I think usually Greeks operate them and I am sure they weren’t taught from a Greek grandma xD Many South Asian people come to international art exhibitions happening in Greece, where knowledge is exchange and trade is established.

I asked one of my friend who continuously researches cultures and she gave me a few examples: How Indians adopted Henna/Mehendi designs from Persians, how the Persians adopted a Chinese technique of drawing, how the Persian romance “Khoshrow and Shirin” was a retelling of the 5th-century Arab story “Layla and Majnun” which was a retelling of the ancient Greek story “Metiochus and Parthenope”. She also told me of the Tatars: The Turkic people with Finno-Ugric, and Russian-Slavic elements in their culture! Tatars live in South Russia mainly but their traditional music uses the pentatonic scale, which aligns it with the Chinese and Vietnamese musical traditions!

To put it VERY simply, “cultural appropriation” (the positive one) is when you take an element from another culture through interaction and you use this element as it was intented and you don’t harm the people you took it from. You like a thing, you use the thing, because you think it’s beautiful and worthy. At the same time, you have an appreciation for the culture you took it from and treat the people and its elements with respect.

The negative one is when you don’t do these things xD Nicki Minaj being photographed as the goddess Durga to advertise shoes (and in a traditionally indicent attire) obviously causes a “oh, honey, no!” reaction 😛 Similarly, you can’t wear Greek traditional attire wherever and under any circumstances because it’s used in certain situations. BUT that doesn’t mean you can’t have Greek embroidery patterns in your clothes if you like, or clothing inspired by Greek traditional fashion. (Of course, this is not something a foreigner is expected to know so it’s better to ask :) )

Cultural power sometimes comes into play. But most of the time this cultural power is long gone and using an element from the previously non dominant culture won’t harm the people who use it. I understand that balances between dominant and non dominant cultures can differ depending on where you are in the world. In these cases researching and asking people of the culture can help. See what the majority of the culture thinks, not just 2-3 people telling you not to do it.

But, even if you make a mistake, the world won’t end. People need to understand that beating a stranger on the internet over a fashion error won’t help good cultural communication. Usually, people mean well and are willing to learn, they are not demons like the US internet makes it seem. Also, doing cultural misapropriation once by accident or bc of wrong information doesn’t make you a bad person, despite what Tumblr and Twitter says.

[imnotwolverine]

Dear Bear

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: Oh this chapter is so sad. I’m sorry - but could not keep it from you all the same. Also, on a side-note: I’ve finally created a masterlist and baptised this storyline to go by the name ‘Tea for Two’. 

Word count: 4.706

Disclaimer: angst, sadness, fluff, party drugs

---

This is part 7 of the Tea for Two story.

Find the masterlist here.

--

< Go back to part 6

November 1st. I held the paper calendar in my hand, looking at a picture of the Witcher crew from past year. Everyone happily gathered around a large buffet celebrating Thanksgiving. It did not take long to spot Henry on the far right, looking overly excited, his arms raised in joy while looking straight at the camera. Not surprising, since he was a foodie for sure. The more food, the merrier the Henry. My finger traced his over excited face as I let out a sigh, folding back the previous month and hanging the calendar back on our office wall.

It had been exactly 3 weeks since I last saw him and I hated every single day of it. Not only had it been crazy busy at work now production was nearing its end (the time pressure to finish the season was on and the press tour had started), it was also hard to find the mental peace and quiet to keep contact with each other. A few minute calls here and there is all we could manage in between our tight schedules. Not enough to really, really talk. And I fully understood that this was just what it would be like sometimes, when dating Henry. It would mean I would have to miss him. Having to miss him, a lot.

I sighed again while plopping down on my chair, brushing my fingers through Kal’s thick fur. He was too fast asleep to even care, yet I was glad to have him there. Henry had left him with me, since it was more peaceful for Kal to not have to travel everyday. Besides, it was good for me to have something so dear to Henry near me at all times. In these three weeks Kal and I had become best buddies, for sure. We found a rhythm of him sleeping next to my side of the bed, waking up with morning cuddles, going for a walk, then eat breakfast together. Next we’d take a cab to work, and he’d be sticking to his side by my feet (at my desk or on set) until we’d get back home again, followed by his big walk, dinner, some working out or reading and.. back to bed. Rinse and repeat.

I sent a picture of Kal sleeping at my feet to Henry, followed by a heart emoji. The message didn’t come through. He probably had bad cell reception again. ‘HEEYyy, I was thinking.’ My colleague awoke me from my intense phone-screen-staring. I looked up. ‘Hmm?’ I said. ‘You know. It’s Friday. We’re off tomorrow. How ‘bout we go out for some drinks. Just a..girls night out?’ My colleague pouted her lips in a pleading look. I laughed half-arsed. ‘Ange, I don’t know..I’m quite..tired actually.’ ‘Oh come on! You sound like an old hag. Besides, Henry’s in Asia now, so he’ll be sleeping by the time you get off. Let’s just have ONE drink. Come on!’ Ange, or Angelica as her full name goes, nodded her head excitedly, in hope that her bobbing head would convince me to also nod in agreement. I looked back at my laptop screen, noticing another 532 unread emails, realising there was no winning any of these fights. Be it working all night, or going for that one drink. ‘Alright then.’ I nodded, shrugging in defeat. ‘GREAAAT. Oh my god I found this great bar that just opened. Such great cocktails. And there’s this..’ She rattled on, making me realise I sure had turned into a bit of a homebird over the past year. In previous years I wouldn’t have hesitated about going out whenever someone suggested it. No matter how busy the workweek, I would always love myself some dancing and sipping on half decent wine. Perhaps it’d be a good thing to go for a night out on the town.

—

Ange came to pick me up at my hotel room. We were just two floors apart, but it was still a sweet gesture. I opened the door, finding her standing there in some very slinky deep blue minidress and dark eye make-up, her waist-long dark hair falling sleekly around her curvy figure. ‘Well, hello minxy.’ I laughed, letting her in. I almost felt underdressed in my simple midi-length black dress with halter neck. She smiled a cheeky grin, then in turn looked me up and down. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself girl.’ She purred, immediately striding towards my small fridge. ’Help yourself.’ I said, already knowing full well she was about to pour us some generous glasses of wine. She came back pressing a glass of rosé in my hands, then plopped down on the small sofa. ‘You know. Perhaps it’s better. Not having any men around. Then we can have some..real..fun!’ She raised up her glass in cheers. I joined her in the sitting corner, sitting down on a small pouf and clinked glasses with her. ‘Do you really feel you can have no fun with men around?’ I asked, sniffling, before taking a large sip of wine.

‘Naaa.. They always have a motive. Double intentions. Blaa.’ She stuck out her tongue before also taking a large swig of the wine. ‘So. Are you still dating that Joseph guy?’ I asked, looking at her as she pulled down her obnoxiously short hemline that kept creeping up. She smiled. ‘I think me and Joseph are…done..for now. Maybe for the odd bit of fun. But he just REALLY wasn’t my type.’ ‘And what is your type then..?’ ‘Oh don’t bother. No men tonight! Just us, ladies, wanting to have a good time, okay?’ She clinked her glass against mine again, stretching out her long neck while smiling a victorious smile. And honestly, I hoped that would be true. The way I knew Ange, there was very little chance she would not, at some point during the night, get desperate for some attention. Attention she’d eventually seek from some tall dark stranger with just the same double intentions. It’d be just another Joseph guy. Another guy who’d disappoint her, pushing her to the point she’d become even more desperate and insecure.

‘Yea..let’s just have some fun.’ I winked, pushing away those thoughts and taking another sip of wine while seeing she had already nearly finished her glass.

—

The club Ange had chosen was, well, interesting. It was Berlinesque in mood. Dark, neon-lit and gritty with lots of bare concrete and sinister looking hipster folk afoot. The music was great though. Deep bass tones that tore through your whole body like a heartbeat, strumming melodies that made your hips shake and balkan-esque folk tunes were thrown in the mix for good measure. We ordered two dark and stormies and wandered to a corner of the club, casually dancing and giggling at some of the other party goers that were obviously a bit further in their drinks. It felt a bit like that matrix club scene, the lights glimmering a green hue over the sweaty, almost gimpy dressed people.  

‘This place feels like a movie set of its own.’ I laughed in her ear. She nodded, sipping her drink, laughing beguilingly. ‘Lots of famous people come here.’ She returned, having to lean into me to make herself heard over the loud beats. ‘Haa..’ I said, looking around me to see if I recognised anyone. No familiar faces. I shrugged. ‘Guess not tonight.’ She took another large swig of her drink, twirling around in happiness. ‘I love this music. I love this!’ She exclaimed, almost pouring some of her drink on the floor while raising her arms. I laughed, following her while she moved onto the dance floor.

We squeezed our bodies through the dancing crowd. The bouncing, sultry bodies around me made me drink with great haste, not wanting to spill any of it on the floor. ‘Another?’ Ange gestured, holding up her not-yet-finished drink. I shrugged. ‘Let me get this round.’ I said, winking at her. She nodded, immediately turning her attention to a handsome man standing next to her. Oh gods. It has already started, I thought, quickly forcing my way to the bar, in order to get back to her as quickly as possible. The bar tender however was more then a little occupied. I leaned against the sticky edge of the bar, looking at the cocktail list hanging on the far back wall.

‘Hello there sugar.’ A deep voice rumbled in my ear. I looked around. A man that could best be described as a balkan viking was leaning into me, smirking a devilish smile. Slightly tanned skin, a beard and brushed back hair that fell over a crisp white shirt. I squinted my eyes at him, deciding what action best to take. ‘You know, you’re cute and all, but.. I’m not interested.’ I said, turning my attention back to the board with chalked-on cocktail names. ‘And you know, you shouldn’t be so mean to me.’ He said, leaning even closer. ‘..Or you might just get set-up..’ His body pushed further into me as his hand painfully wrapped around my neck as he pushed his bearded lips against mine. I instinctively tried to pull away, but before I could even think of such a thing, I saw a large flash. FUCK. NO. FUCK this shit. Photograph. Fuck. I didn’t quite know what to do once he let me go, my cheek already sore from his painful grasp. I gasped, looking from the filthy viking, back to his photographing accomplice. ‘What is wrong with you?!’ I scolded, my voice slightly trembling. The viking man crossed his arms. ‘Oh sugar, no worries. I have a DEAL for you.’

My eyes quickly moved towards the bar tender. He hadn’t seen a thing. To the door man in the far back. Too far away. Fuck. Then I turned around, looking for Ange. And… There was no Ange. Oh no, shit, fuck, no. I quickly grasped for my phone, texting Ange, keeping half an eye on the two smirking idiots in front of me. ‘Where you at?’ I texted. She didn’t respond. No, no, no… My eyes flashed back at the two men, still grinning menacingly, slowly leaning closer towards me. I felt myself almost pant with worry. It couldn’t be this bad right? I was just overreacting. This was nothing. These idiots were just drunk. And Ange probably just went to the toilet. The toilets. I let my gaze fly over my shoulder to the bathroom sign. I turned back towards the men. ‘You know what. I’ll hear your deal in a bit, I really have to go to the toilet. If you’ll excuse me.’ I quickly squeezed myself through a group of drunk men whom were trying to order some beers to get out of the reach of the viking and his henchman, hastily making my way to the toilets. Thankfully there was no queing line.

‘Ange? You here?!’ I exclaimed, offering an apologetic look at some of the girls who gave me a begrudging look while they plastered on some more make-up. No Ange. Dammit. I grasped my phone again. She still hadn’t responded. I looked under the bathroom stalls, seeing if I recognised her feet. Nope. Shit. Dammit! I quickly made my way back to the dance floor, only then recognising her in the crowd. She was surrounded by a whole pack of men. Oh come on Ange, not cool. I squeezed myself in between the men, grasping her arm. She turned around, a wide, slow grin on her face. ‘What?’ She said slightly annoyed. I noticed her eyes were a bit strange, unfocussed. I looked her in the eye. ‘Did you …take drugs?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows. She slurrily laughed. ‘WhaAAATT?!’ She exclaimed, thinking it funny. ‘What what what what…’ She lulled.

‘Ange.’ I folded my hands around her cheeks, trying to make her look at me. ‘We need..to go.. okay?’ Her eyes glazed over as she fell over forwards into my arms. I looked at the men around us. They did not seem to care, they just kept laughing. And it was only now that I noticed how they were touching her, groping her actually. One of their hands firmly squeezing her ass. I gasped. What the ..fuck..was going on. I shot the men a most menacing look as I dragged a half-conscious Ange to a more quiet corner of the club, out of their grasp. Thankfully they didn’t follow.

She was surprisingly heavy as she leaned into me. ‘Whaat….’ She mumbled once more, having difficulty even looking at me. Did someone lace her drink? She surely couldn’t get drunk like this, this fast, right? I desperately pinned her against my body, leaning against the wall for support, then flipped out my phone again. Uber. No rides available at this moment. Oh. Come on. What was this place even. Google. The page kept reloading while I tried to look for a local taxi company. My eyes desperately flew across the room, interlocking with the luring looks of the viking and his accomplice again. I felt tears burn behind my eyes. Okey. I couldn’t fix everything, I guess. But I had to get Ange out of here. Yes. With all my might I dragged her wobbling, half asleep body through the sweating mass of dancing bodies. It seemed like nobody noticed us. Nobody voluntarily moved and it felt like hours before I finally had managed to coach us back to the entrance. I picked up our jackets and after what seemed like days, we got back outside.

The night was freezing cold and gloomy, the stars veiled by thick grey clouds while the occasional gush of rain drops blew in our faces. Ange had fallen asleep by now. A drug induced, hopefully not too uncomfortable, sleep. She was breathing steadily against my chest as we sat on a bench near a bus stop. It’d be another 45 minutes before the next night line bus would stop here, but it was all I could figure out at this point and time. I shivered into my jacket as I squeezed Ange tightly against me, making sure she continued to breath by keeping my left hand on her pulse. With my right hand I opened my phone again. 2.15 am. It wasn’t even that ridiculously late, but it sure felt like it. What time would it be for Henry? 6 hours later. That means… He might be up. Should I text him? I hesitated, opening Whatsapp and noticing I wasn’t the only one thinking that.

Henry is typing…

Morning dear. You’re probably sleeping right now. But look at this *a picture of a large breakfast he had made himself* Made me and my team some breakfast, thought you’d be proud of me ;) I miss you, i miss your cooking, i miss being with you. Give Kal a good hug from me and enjoy your Saturday <3

My lip started to tremble and I felt my eyes sting as long overdue tears started rolling hotly over my ice cold cheeks.

I miss you too :( so so much. :( :( :(

I sent back with half frozen hands.

Can’t sleep?

He responded. I snickered sadly, realising it’d be weird for me to respond so soon, in the middle of the night.

Actually having a seriously messed up night :/

I typed, hesitating to send it. I looked back at Ange and tried to figure what was best. Not tell him? It’s not like he could do anything about it, other then get worried sick. I knew he’d do that. I knew he’d get fed up and feel bad all day. I sighed, deleting the message again. I looked at my screen, thinking of what to type.

You okay babe?

He typed. I instantly felt more tears billow over my cheeks. Oh how I missed him. He had seen me type, then remove it again. Best just come clean. He was no fool. No secrets. I had to tell him.

Having a messed up night. Was going out for drinks with Ange at a club. No fun though. Some idiot laced her drink. Another idiot forced himself upon me :( going home now.

I pressed send and it took about a millisecond before he called me. I answered.

‘Sweetheart..’ I heard his low voice, alongside his footsteps on a stone floor as he probably moved away from his crew whom were now munching away on that breakfast. A door closing. I felt my lips tremble, and decided to just, wait a moment. ‘Sweetheart are you okay?’ He continued. I shook my head no, my lip trembling even more fiercely. ‘..It’ll be okay…’ I said quietly, feeling more tears well up. He could hear me cry. I could hear him choke up in turn. Had he ever even seen me cry? I don’t think he did. At best I’ve had a grumpy day when he was around. No crying though. I felt even more guilty. ‘Are you safe?’ He finally said, his voice laced with worry. ‘I’m safe. Just waiting for the bus.’ ‘Tell me what happened. Is Ange with you? Are there people with you?’ His words tumbled out, making me feel how confused and worried he was. I felt so bad for even telling him. Poor Henry…

‘I’m sorry for crying. Don’t worry. I am safe.’ I sniffled softly, taking another shivery breath. ‘..And Ange is with me, asleep. There’s a few people sitting near us. The bus should be here in a little while.’ I muttered. ‘Don’t be sorry sweetie. Oh..’ I could hear his mind race from the other side of the line. I could hear that door crack open again as someone called for him. ‘I’m sorry guys, can’t join..please.’ His voice sounded tight. The door closed. I could hear him breath out, making me imagine how he’d probably be standing in the hall of his temporary apartment, hesitating at what to say, the phone lingering in his hand. ‘Henry?’ I asked. ‘Yes baby.’ He immediately answered. ‘I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. Please don’t beat yourself up on this.’ I said, trying to keep my voice level. The tears had faded by now, and I was glad I didn’t have to look into those big blue eyes of his. Those surely would have cracked the roaring storm of emotions right open again. We were both quiet for a moment. Until I finally realised what was happening. He was crying. I could hear his muffled cry on the other side of the phone. Oh..no…sweet bear..

My eyebrows knitted together as my eyes drifted to some of the other drunk folk that were leaning on the pavement, waiting for the bus as well. They were not even remotely interested in my call, instead swigging down some more booze from a small drinking container. I drew in a deep breath. ‘Hey bear.’ I said gently, a silent tear rolling down my cheek. ‘Remember the day we met? ..that very humid, sweaty morning in the LA hills? Hmm..I was very much used to being alone then. Solving my own shit. But I guess that changed once I heard Kal panting in those bushes. It all changed when I rang that phone number on his tag. It all changed when I met… you.’ I spoke quietly, reminiscing that moment. I heard him break into even more tears. ‘Henry.’ I continued, ‘I knew that no matter how hard we’d try, we’d sometimes be apart. And it’s hard. And it sucks..’

‘…I miss you so much.’ He finally breathed into the phone, his voice shaky and fragile. ‘I miss you too.’ I said, looking down at Ange as she was quietly sleeping against my chest. I took another deep breath as I heard his breathing also calm a bit. Dear Henry…I thought. Then I heard that darn door open again. ‘You alright mate?’ A voice sounded. More silence, then the door closing again. ‘Please forgive me.’ He finally uttered, quietly. ‘What?’ I asked, not sure what he meant. ‘Forgive me.’ He whispered. ‘What should I forgive you for?’ My voice felt empty. ‘That I make you go through all this. That we have to be apart because of my..work….’ He drew a deep breath. ‘..Fuck this shit..’ He ended quietly. ‘Henry. Bear. That is life. There is naught to forgive. Please bear. I love you. Please hold on.’ I felt shivers run down my spine. Was this how we’d end? The thing that would break us apart? More tears started to well up in my eyes as I heard him cry through the phone. I couldn’t manage any more words, my lip trembling from both the icy cold and my emotions. We were both quiet for a long moment, the only sounds reaching my ears being the draws of shivery breaths as his crying tempered down. My heart was bursting with pain and fear. Please, don’t break up with me. Please please please.

’Never.’ I heard his voice. ‘What?’ I stammered. ‘I would never break up with you.’ He said, his voice more clear then it had been this whole phone call. I realised, belatedly, that I had spoken my thoughts out loud. I closed my eyes. In a way I felt a bit more at ease, but I also felt so very helpless. I wanted to hug him, kiss away his tears, crawl away in his strong arms. I took another shivery breath. His crying had stopped, I think, as his breathing sounded more calm. ‘Babe..’ He started, hesitating. ‘Henry?’ My heartbeat rushed in my chest. ‘..thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me.’ His voice sounded calm and honest. ‘Why..but..of course I trust you..’ Why would he say that? ‘I’ve gotten so used to people hiding their issues from me, because they’re scared it’s too much for me. I care about you. I want to know what’s going on in your life, in your head. I really do.’ He spoke gently. I sucked in a deep breath, a bit overcome with those words. With exes I had often hidden away my feelings and not spoken of my experiences, because I felt embarrassed or simply that it wasn’t a good moment. In the end there barely ever was a good moment and I distanced myself from them until I was more of a mom to them, then a girlfriend. Henry’s words struck a cord I didn’t even know was strung so tightly in my chest. It had snapped, just like that.

‘You still there?’ He asked. ‘Yea. Uh. Sorry. I guess I’ve never had someone say that to me before…hmm.’ I smiled meekly. ‘You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had I think.’ I said, feeling little pangs of joy in my stomach as I heard him chuckle softly. ‘And you..by far the best girlfriend. I don’t want to lose you dear. Please know that…’ His voice swam in my head as my attention was drawn to a bus pulling up to the bus stop. ‘Hen..bear..I’ve got to go. The bus is here. Love you.’ I hung up the phone, awkwardly pushing it back in my pocket before hoisting up Ange, who was still very much knocked out.

At the hotel I hadn’t even bothered to get Ange to her room, instead plopping her on my bed and falling almost instantly asleep besides her, clothed and all. It was about 8 am when I was awakened by an irregularly buzzing phone next to my head. I drowsily looked up, noticing a whole bunch of messages that were popping up. I sat up, seeing Ange had turned on her side, still sleeping. I opened the messages. Long story short. Tickets. He had managed to get me off the schedule for some meetings I’d be having this week and gotten me plane tickets to a few of the next destinations he’d be flying to. Followed with the text. ‘I thought you could maybe answer all those emails in an airplane too?’ I smiled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, before taking a better look at the messages and emails. DARN. First plane would leave tonight. Tonight. That means I’d see him..by breakfast. Oh my. My heart started pounding as I shot out of bed, being greeted by a yawning Kal. ‘Oh KAL! What news I have!’

——

The plane had landed and taxiing to the airport of Gimpo International Airport, Seoul, seemed to take forever. I eagerly looked out of the window, brushing my fingers through Kal’s fur to ease my mind. Just a few more minutes and I’d see him. Oh my. I felt butterflies in my stomach, my heart pounding and my hands clammy. The captain’s iron voice was shrieking through the speakers, but I couldn’t really make much of his heavily accented english. I sat back in the beige seat, keeping my eye trained on the window, barely registering as one of the flight attendees carefully shook me from my stare. ‘Miss? Are you ready?’ I sat up, realising first class could leave the plane first. Like. Right now. I nodded, a quick smile turning on my face as I quickly picked up my bag and followed her, being able to walk straight out after the sealed door was opened.

It got even crazier when I found a small man waiting for me outside the plane. He held up a small clipboard with my name on it, already recognising me before I realised what was going on. ‘Miss! Welcome. Please.’ He reached for my bag, which he took from me. Kal excitedly wanted to jump up at him, making the small man jump back, laughing awkwardly. ‘Bear dog! Ha!’ He said with a cute accent, his eyes squinting in a wide smile. ‘Now, follow me. Quick route.’ He gestured, as his small legs shuffled off in lightning speed. I even had to set a serious pace to keep up with him. Darn fast little man! But on the other hand, I was overly glad he was fast. The faster I’d see Henry. Once more my heart started to pound loudly in my chest as we quickly strided through customs, picked up my bags and he escorted me to the exit hall. Staying at his side of the sliding door he bowed me a goodbye. I thanked him and dragged Kal from him, before Kal could attempt another tackle on the poor man. I swished my suitcase into the exit hall, a happy Kal looking up at me, curious what adventure would be next. But all I had eyes for was him. It was hard to miss him, since he was towering at least a foot over the other people. Wearing his usual incognito sweater, sunglasses and baseball cap, he waved at me. I pulled Kal and my suitcase along, wishing I could just jump into his arms, stifle him with my kisses, heck, I’d make love to him right here if I could.

‘Hi.’ I breathed, slightly out of breath as I halted before him, dropping my suitcase - but thankfully not Kal’s leash. He smiled, quickly pulling me up into one of those big, big bear hugs. ‘Hmmmmmm.’ He hummed, not lowering me down, pushing his nose in my neck, making me giggle. I wrapped my legs around his hip, settling back in his arms a bit so I could remove his sunglasses. Green eyes meet blue eyes. We kissed. Oh how I missed this. Him. His scent. His scruffy chin. His laugh. We kissed and kissed and kissed to the point that Kal was getting impatient, jumping up at us, wanting to get in on the action. We finally let go so Henry could greet his trusty pal. ‘Hi! Hey! Been a good boy? You’ve been a good boy? Oh Kal! Kal! Kal!’ He laughed as Kal rolled on his back, offering Henry his belly to rub to mighty delight. His paw was even kicking in excitement. In between belly rubs Henry looked up at me, his face melting in what I could best describe as pure love. I could have died happily on that spot right there.

--

Part 8 > 

[borisbubbles]

23. IRELAND

Lesley Roy - “Story of my life”

Yesterday, the rehearsals would’ve started in Rotterdam. A depressing thought, so, using the mathematical paradigm that a negative + a negative equals a positive, let’s counteract with a thought so depressing it circles back into hilarity. 

Ireland thought this entry was gold. 

Song analysis

It merely speaks for RTE’s status as the Eurofamily’s dork dad status (say, if Ireland were a character in Will Ferrell’s Eurovision movie, would he be played by Eugene Levy - HA! trick question, there’s no such thing as a Will Ferrel Eurovision movie and also the answer is yes) that they thought a *literal* K*ty P*rry b-side by an ageing woman was going to get Ireland the success and recognition? BUT GASP SHE’S A LESBIAN SO SHE ACTUALLY KISSED A GIRL AND LIKED IT!!! whoa i have news Ireland, this is 2020 no one cares. 

like

RTE: OH MY GOD WE HAVE AN ALMIGHTY EUPHORIA BOP!!! Also RTE:

and it’s not “Story of my life”’s fault that people regard it with contempt, because poor “Story of my life” tries its best. I personally like the song and I like that RTE went with an *actual fucking LGBT person* with their rainbow-themed entry this year (DIEEEE TOGETHER DIEEEEEE). SOML doesn’t *TRY* to be some innovative, deep, “LIKE ME OR YOUR OPINIONS ARE VOID” type of song either. On the contrary, i think its dank datedness adds a small layer of pathos to the overall experience - “Story of my life” is so hopeless it becomes charming due to it. 

Naturally, many people beg the question: “Why even enter a “story of my life anyway?” and well... beats fucking me, to be honest, but at least isn’t as viscerally offensive and/or boring as Ireland’s usual fucking tripe is so BOO HOO I WIN as far as I’m concerned. I’m not going to condescend its existance like others have, nor will I trivialize its message of “I WILL BE MYSELF NO MATTER WHAT AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE ME!!” The message may be vague enough to be part of an astrologer’s sidereal almanac, but message is good and personal and means something to Lesley, so... why would the meaning behind it be any less valuable than that of Fai Rumore? Messages don’t matter unless they do (that is to say, they only matter when other people decide that they matter, which most people simply didn’t bother with in this case because lol nbody got time for Kety Perr. u tried LesLes...x) 

The problem for me is simple: everything “Story of my life” offers, other in this year do better.

 If I wanted a frumpy bird-looking hag slay my life, I wouldn’t go for Lesley because MILA MOYA KATRYOSHA already fucking exists. If I wanted a perky little sanitized wokeness anthem, I would go for “CLEARPATRRA”. (although Cleopatra’s wokeness is hard to swallow due to the flag it is performed under - but more on this when I get to rank that next week) If I wanted an entry in which an insane blonde woman obnoxiously waives her life’s first-world-problems into our faces and dances on them, I’d go for “Steel Breeding”. (lol feminism my ass, but this too will have to wait for next week)

Ireland are sadly stuck in a purgatory of sorts: they are inherently likable, but don’t really offer much. They’re like that one RPG character who has cool lore and characterization, but advantages so insignificant you cannot ever justify using them in your party. Sorry girl. 

Ireland 2020 vs Ireland 2021

I will give you a hint. 1) Ireland 2) A Katy Perry song 3) first half of a killer semifinal. It would have been another last place for Ireland, right? (since Vasil will get votes from the other Balkan countries at least - yes Lesley/Vasil would’ve been the bottom 2 anyone who thinks otherwise is a FOOL). “Story of my life” was dead on arrival even before we factor in Lesley herself. I mean, this may seem harsh, but this stood no chance:

Good lord the “Shout it out” by Mariette teas served by Lesley at times are real and fucking TERRIFYING. It sort of bothers me that frumpism only seems to affect women and not men, but like I said before, usually it’s the women who are rated *fairly* by the masses while men are given passes they don’t deserve, that’s the story of *my* life NA NA NA NA NA.

It will also be of no surprise to you that RTE haven’t confirmed Lesley for 2021 yet? Good. Let’s move on. 

FREAKY! FRIDAY! FACTOR!

A of all, Ireland being fun? WHAT. B of all Ireland being fun twice in a fucking row? WHAT. C of all, how did this entry even come to be? It sounds like it came straight from 2008, plenty of resources were sunk into its production and it still sounds/looks like that and - again worth repeating - Ireland SOMEHOW thought it could do well?(in a semi where Eden Alene is a fucking BL qualifier) Did they approach Lesley and let her do what she wanted? or... did they interfere, somehow? Did they pick this song from 250+ hopefuls like they claimed with “22″? No clue how the RTE selection process works, besides the fact that it doesn’t. 

If we really lean into the mold-breaking theme of the Freaky! Friday! Factor! this is a win all-around, however. Ireland are trying to be fun, modern, hip and relevant. ‘Trying’ did all the lifting in that previous sentence, but hey, you cannot succeed if you don’t make an attempt! They’re not quite there yet, but I do think their efforts deserve to be rewarded with a few Senheads:

Score: 3 Senhits out of 5.

[artzeppo]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let’s get to know the person behind the blog 🍀

oh hiya, thank you! this is fun! :))

 1. I have five all-time favorite movies. The last one to get added to the list was Everything Is Illuminated. 

 2. When I was a kid, there was a period where I thought the Balkan Penninsula was a type of hat due to misunderstanding a song lyric. Mind you, I live there.

 3. I love playing one specific race in 2005 Need for Speed to try to beat my best time. I don’t think I’ve managed to lower it more than three seconds in the last couple of years. x’D

[inkstaineddove]

Aria for a Fool

Ships: AusHun; implied PruHun

Characters: Austria, Hungary; mentioned Prussia

Summary: After their marriage in 1867, Austria begins treating Hungary with more kindness and respect, realizing how close he came to losing her. Against all odds and expectations, feelings begin developing and he finds it near impossible to contain them any longer. 

Vienna, 1893.

Roderich's home was his piano. It was sweet release, his break from all reality. In some ways, his music had become a well-tended addiction, often the only thing capable of providing him respite. He was turning to it more often these days. The world was changing fast and it troubled Austria. He found his thoughts more preoccupied by the shifting power balances among Europe and the rest of the world along with the clamoring for independence by the various ethnic groups under his control. But he refused to think about that now. His fingers glided over the keys, opting to compose their own melody this time instead of going through the stacks of sheet music in his head to find the right piece. What his heart was playing was heavy with melancholy, but with a glimmer of hope.

When he finished, he was plenty surprised to hear a polite clap. Roderich turned around and met Erzsébet's eyes. "I wasn't doing anything and your playing is so beautiful. I hope you don't mind." Her smile was polite, yet warm.

"Not at all. I appreciate having a captive audience." He gestured to one of the couches nearby. "Sit, there's no need to stand in the doorway."

She complied. Erzsébet pulled her legs up besides her and sighed. "It's beautiful, really. Whenever you play, it makes you feel almost approachable."

In the past, this type of statement would've annoyed him. But, since their official marriage in 1867 and the elevation of Hungary's status with it, he'd been doing his best to be kinder. Whatever their feelings were, he was afraid to lose her and knew he'd come too close. "Am I not normally this way?" He imagined himself as a big, hulking monster. The picture bemused him.

"No, you're normally much more..." She tried to find the word. He watched her trying to grab it in her head and the sudden euphoria when she found it. "Unobtainable."

"That's applicable to you as well." A statement that could've easily been used as a weapon, but came across more as gentle teasing.

"Hush, that's different. You're usually so far beyond. You weren't like this before. Empire changes people." Hungary looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes as she spoke for fear of how he'd react. "It brings out the worst traits in all of us."

Incredulous, he pressed her. "How so?" He swiveled in his seat, turning himself so he was fully facing her instead of his instrument.

She teased her nails with her teeth, a habit she'd long had since childhood. She understood the importance of getting her words right when it came to this topic, for his understanding and for her own sentiments to be properly conveyed. "What's that saying? Absolute power corrupts absolutely? If it's true for man, then it's true for us. You become the center of the world, shaping it as you see fit. There's very few who are capable of stopping you, your worst impulses as a nation and individual are hardly checked. How could you not fall into excess?" Hungary ventured to look into Austria's eyes now. "It's not a moral failing, please don't take it as such."

An interesting concept. Certainly seemed to be bound in the basis of reality. Still, he knew if it was true then he would be condemned as well. Austria's doubts nagged at him, he wanted her to be proved wrong but not to claim that victory for himself. "Can you give me any specific corruption?"

"Arthur's taste for vengeance turned into cruelty towards those deserving and undeserving. Francis' desire for control led to him successfully taking over a large portion of the world with an iron fist. And you," she paused. He nodded at her, giving her permission to go on. "And your need to be seen above all other's strips you of basic empathy and compassion for those weaker than yourself."

Austria considered that over for a second. He agreed with her on Britain and France. That was easy, accepting the flaws and downfalls of others. How loathe he was to self-reflect that deeply. He longed for counter-examples and wracked his long memory for one. His treatment of Bohemia for wanting to pick a non-Austrian ruler, his browbeating of the Protestant Germans, his repression of any who dissented too forcefully against his authority. He winced. The only recent example he had of benevolence was when Hungary threatened to stage a rebellion he knew she would win. "I suppose I see your point." No longer wanting the spotlight on him, he turned it on her. "Are you worried this will change you like it has the rest of us?"

Hungary chuckled. "No, not in the slightest. I've certainly been elevated, but this is all still yours. My only focus remains on the best interests of myself and my people." She waved a hand dismissively, suppressing a giggle. "I'll let you deal with the Balkans."

He rolled his eyes. How mighty big of her, letting him handle the most quarrelsome aspect of his, of their, lands. "Then why's this been on your mind?" She opened her mouth to protest, but Austria shot her a look. "Don't lie to me. You wouldn't have mentioned this out of nowhere if it wasn't troubling you." He forced his expression to soften. "You've got me interested now."

Erzsébet wrung the skirt of her dress in her hands. She focused intently on the way they messed with the fabric. "I'm worried about him, that's all." She felt the heat of Roderich's irritation rolling off him. She wished to stop herself, but couldn't once the words were out. "An earnest quest for empire, can you believe it? I've already seen it in his eyes. I fear he'll soon be returning to the blood lust he had in the Knights if he continues making war with impunity."

A familiar stab of annoyance hit him in the gut. Strangely, it was mixed with a tang of jealousy over what he didn't have. He bit his tongue until the end, his curiosity piqued. "Are you saying you want him to be put down?" Normally Austria would jump at the opportunity to be the one to do the crushing. His ego stung too much after losing to Prussia in less than two months. With France out of the picture, he had to hope Russia would get brazen.

"Put down is so strong. Beating Denmark was fine. I was displeased by his victory against us, I don't take joy in my men losing their lives and the war, but that was the normal cycle of things." She cleared her throat. "Successfully capturing Paris is another matter."

Austria nodded. This certainly was one of the many things recently troubling him. It was also one of the one's he did not care to discuss. The Prussian was an Icarus, he'd fly too close to the sun soon enough. And Erzsébet would be there to put him back together again when he fell, his insecurities taunted him. "It is, but it doesn't concern our state. He's made this bed and he'll lie in it. Alone."

Erzsébet's expression grew sheepish. "I shouldn't have brought this up, I'm sorry." Talking about this with him was a mistake. She should've confided in Feliks instead.

"Don't be, I asked. It only makes sense you would feel this way." A painful silence lay between them. Austria's fingers itched. A ridiculous part of him longed to impress her. He knew he was being childish, unable to deal with whatever feelings of inadequacy that whole conversation arose. He found himself unable to resist though. "May I play something for you? It always helps take my mind off things."

She shook her head. "Not right now. There's some paperwork I have to get to before the end of the night, you understand. Perhaps if I get finished with it early." Hungary rose and began exiting the room.

Desperation. He hated himself for it. "One second, Erzsi," he hesitated on her nickname. To his relief, she turned around without a hint of discomfort. His eyes focused on her despite how much he wanted to look away. "You're in love with him, still, aren't you?" The question was beyond that though. They both knew Roderich was asking if this - their marriage of equals, his forced kindness turning into genuine tenderness - had changed anything.

Hungary stared out the window. "Ah, that's certainly a question." If he studied her intently, he could notice the slightest of tremors. "My heart belongs to myself." She'd said those words before to a different man. They were as unconvincing then as they were the first time.

"You don't have to lie to me." More plead than request. Austria hated his own weakness.

"It's not you I'm lying to." Her hands returned to fidgeting with her dress. The habit made her look quite girlish. "Once acknowledged, the truth can be quite a dangerous thing. I need you to understand that."

"And if I don't?" His insolence surprised him. He cleared his throat. "What I mean is, it's better to deal with the truth now than to keep kicking it down the line. It only brings forth more pain." Roderich bid himself to be less honest. He didn't care if it made him a hypocrite, he just needed to stop making himself feel so much.

Erzsébet smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, you're not wrong." She met his gaze, steady and strong. "You're quite observant, Roderich. I believe you know the truth. It's not necessary for me to tell you."

He couldn't bear it anymore. Roderich stood and, within a few strides, was before her. He kissed her tenderly, his hands on her hips and softly pulling her towards him. It was futile, but it felt meaningful to him as all last-ditch efforts do. Their whole marriage felt futile, at the point where it was now fraying irreparably, despite their best efforts to change its course. Still, he found himself hoping and wishing to transport that feeling to her.

They parted. Her eyes carried such cruel pity. "You're becoming such a good man, Roderich. I missed this part of you." Her words cut him like a knife. Erzsébet didn't have to add that it was too late. She didn't have to remind him. She kissed him quick.

"I love you." The words game out fast. The first time he'd said them where it felt true. Giddy on the revelation, he offered it in Hungarian. Anything, anything to get the pity out of her eyes. "Please, Erzsi. You used to say it so often."

Erzsébet stepped back. "I did, didn't I?" She bit her lip. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart wouldn't quit aching for him. "I'm sorry, Roderich. You responded too late. It should've been different for us." She watched his heart break before her eyes. She wanted to offer a platitude, offer him something to console him. She'd never seen him this distraught before. She took his hand.

He laughed bitterly. The action was directed at himself, but she still appeared hurt. "How ridiculous. In the beginning, I knew how devoted you were and I didn't care. It irritated me, the goodness in your heart. I rejected you because I saw no benefit to loving you. Now, when you've understandably closed off to this careless monster - please don't disagree, we both know its true - you've been trapped with for all these years, well now I'm able to recognize how extraordinary you are." He smiled, if only to prevent himself from breaking down. "I resented any attempt you made to find the smallest joy in this hell. My deepest desire is now only to see you happy. I'm an idiot." Roderich paused, his voice becoming a whisper. "He makes you happy, doesn't he?"

She listened. Tears welled in her own eyes. The truth of it all hurt, but it needed to be said. She wished she could turn off her feelings, she wished it would be so easy to welcome him back unconditionally into her good graces. Erzsébet had become so used to how things were, she couldn't believe that this new loving behavior wasn't only temporary before things returned to their past resentment. She wanted to avoid his question, but knew she couldn't. She sighed. "He does."

The truth, the bitter truth. He knew it and, yet, he still needed to hear it. "Can't I make you happy instead?"

Erzsébet kissed him, sweet and slow. Roderich found himself still leaning in when there was no longer anyone there. "That would take longer than we have."

"But we have eternity." Begging, begging for her not to do what he knew was coming. She had just so recently entered his world, really entered it. He couldn't imagine being without her now.

"You know what I mean." Eyes downcast. "I don't know how much longer we can stay. But until then, you can try." She stroked his cheek. "I do appreciate the effort." She stepped back and it felt to Roderich like a world was between them. "Please, I need to do my work."

This time he didn't prevent her from leaving. She shut the door behind her and Roderich crumpled to the floor. He cursed himself, he cursed his pride and his disregard for what he'd had for so long. He cursed himself that he would never be able to keep her and that he would never stop performing the Sisyphean task of fighting for her. He'd go down a fool, but maybe now he could take pride in himself for having tried, for giving her a few years where she felt respected and valued. His tears fell and he let them. No, maybe he wouldn’t feel happiness, but to give it to her would be just the same.

[hernehillandy]

My big fat Greek fusion dinner

It remains a mystery why London’s Greek restaurants are so rubbish. Ok, not rubbish, just... unadventurous. Regular readers of this blog will know it’s a question I’ve asked of Greece’s own restaurants too.

This is not to deny that I have a slavish devotion to taramasalata, gyros and pork souvlaki (indeed I am salivating as I type these words) – and for such traditional fare, it’s hard to beat joints like Mornington Crescent’s Yamas. Meanwhile the proliferation amidst the street food explosion of souvlaki stalls like PopBrixton’s excellent Souvlaki Street has brought joy to my life.

It’s just that Greek food as delivered in Athens’s more on-trend eateries can be so much more inventive – and it could be thus in London.

We have a fairly sizeable community of educated, food-conscious Greeks (OK, so there isn’t really another kind of Greek.) Perhaps even important, the influence here of Yotam Ottolenghi seems to wax ever stronger in popularising eastern-Mediterranean fusion cuisine. There’s now a Sainsbury’s own-brand za’atar, for God’s sake. And there’s a thrillingly eclectic approach to Greek food on show at restaurants like the “pan-Balkan” Peckham Bazaar and it’s new-ish sister restaurant, the low-key-but-brilliant Dulwich Lyceum.

But to see such innovation from Greek Londoners (Peckham Bazaar’s John Gionleka is Albanian) is rare. There’s the very decent Mazi in Notting Hill, with its deconstructed classics. But Theodore Kyriakou’s fine Greek Larder in King’s Cross has closed, while his Real Greek has long since been sold on, subsiding into chain mediocrity.

Enter Ampéli, a new venture from delightful Athenian news-photographer-turned-restaurateur Jenny Pagoni. Ampéli freely borrows from across the eastern Mediterranean and indeed even further around its shores – not surprising, given that Head Chef Oren Goldfeld is an Ottolenghi veteran, ex-Nopi. And the result is very successful.

The menu is focussed on snacks and “social plates” – mezze for sharing – though there are larger plates and desserts too. We stuck to the shared plates, starting with whipped feta with pistachio, Aleppo pepper – a sophisticated take on the classic htipiti dip. The Eastern Mediterranean fusion is clear on dishes such as the delectable pan-fried lamb sweetbreads with Jerusalem spice mix, almond sauce, pickles, or a raw salad of market vegetables, aromatic herbs, Tsalafouti cheese, preserved lemon, za’atar.

And there are other dishes that mix influences even more freely: spiced potato burik with brown shrimp, runny egg yolk, harissa mayo (irresistible), salt cod croquettes, samphire and yoghurt tartar (very good) and home-cured tuna “Pastirma” (aka Andalucia’s mojama), fava purée and capers on toasted sourdough. Plus are a handful of more traditional Greek offerings are tucked away on the menu, such as baked gigantes beans with smoked Metsovone cheese. 

Just as important, Ampéli’s wine list is impressive – indeed probably now the most extensive Greek list in London, though not such a surprise given the restaurant’s name (ampeli/ αμπέλι means vineyard). Curated by Greek MW Yiannis Karakasis, it includes a long list by the glass. There are plenty of unusual regions and producers here: I particularly enyoyed Chloe Chatzivaritis’s “Mus” 2018, Goumenissa, full of classic xinomavro fragrance and elegance, and Rouvalis Winery’s “Tsiggelo” 2017, PGI Slopes of Aigialeia, a rare fully dry mavrodaphne. I have to admit I was less impressed with the “new age retsina”. And there are better-established favourites here too from Sigalas, Thymiopoulos, Biblia Chora and Gerovassiliou.

Ampéli is a must-try for any devotee of Greek wine and food. Just don’t try asking for moussaka and chips…

Ampéli, 18 Charlotte St, London W1 020 33555370  www.ampeli.london

14 February 2020