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irish-dress-history · 2 months

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Photos of 16th-17th century Irish clothing

Extant garments in the National Museum of Ireland

Notes: The garments in this post are all bog finds which means their current color may not be their original color. Although some of these items were found with human remains, no photos of human remains are included in this post.

Killery Cóta Mór (great coat) and brogues:

photos by hayling billy used under non-commercial, share alike license

The Killery outfit comes from an adult male bog body found in Killerry parish, Co. Sligo in 1824. It includes a cóta mór, triús, a brat, and shoes which are on display in the museum, and a sheepskin biorraid (conical hat) which fell apart shortly after it was found (Briggs and Turner 1986).

Killery triús (trews):

photo by hayling billy

Killery outfit with and without brat:

The outfit is generally dated to the 17th c. (Dunlevy 1989). It matches Luke Gernon's 1620 description of Irish men's winter apparel:

"in winter he weares a frise cote. The trowse is along stocke of frise, close to his thighes, and drawne on almost to his waste, but very scant, and the pryde of it is, to weare it so in suspence, that the beholder may still suspecte it to be falling from his arse. It is cutt with a pouche before, which is drawne together with a string."

Additional photos of the outfit: cóta front, hem, buttons, and brat.

Shinrone gown:

photo by hayling billy

The Shinrone gown was found in a bog in 1843 in Co. Tipperary near Shinrone, Co. Offaly. Unlike the Killery outfit, there were no human remains or other items found with it (Briggs and Turner 1986). The ends of the sleeves and possibly also the bottom of the skirt are missing. The sleeves would have had wrist cuffs or ties that allowed them to be fastened around the wearer's wrists. It probably also had loops or rings along the U-shaped center-front opening for lacing. It is typically dated late 16th-early 17th c, based on its similarity to a circa 1575 illustration by Lucas DeHeere and to the dresses described by Luke Gernon in 1620 (Dunlevy 1989, McGann 2000). It could be older however, because Laurent Vital described dresses with this type of sleeve in 1518.

Copyrighted, better quality photos: left front, right front, back Additional details: side-front, front waistline

Tipperary Cóta Mór:

photos from Dunlevy 1989 and hayling billy

Another Cóta Mór. This one is from Co. Tipperary, exact find spot and date unknown. Like the Shinrone gown, it was not found with human remains or other items (Ó Floinn 1995). It is probably also from the 17th century (Dunlevy 1989).

Additional photos: front, side, front buttons, front detail, side

Brat and hats:

photo by hayling billy

I haven't been able to find any clear photos of the label on this display, but based on the excellent condition and the presence of the leather tie, I think this is the Meenybradden woman's brat.

Closeup of the tie:

The Meenybradden woman is a bog body found in Meenybradden bog, Co. Donegal in 1978. The brat was wrapped around her as a shroud and secured with the leather tie (Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995). No other garments or artifacts were found with her, although she may have been wearing a linen garment such as a léine when she was buried. Linen tends to not survive in bogs. The Meenybradden woman has a calibrated radiocarbon date of AD 1130-1310, but some archaeologist have suggested humic contamination from the peat may be throwing off the dating. Her brat is identical in cut to others from the 16th-17th centuries (Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995).

Meenybradden brat laid flat. (photo from Delaney and Ó Floinn 1995)

Wool hats:

Hats from Boolabaun, Co. Tipperary made of wool felt which has been cut and sewn to form the shape. They have togs of unspun wool worked into them giving them the appearance of faux fur. Dunlevy suggests a 15th-16th c date for them (Dunlevy 1989, McClintock 1943).

Wool cloak:

photo by hayling billy

The museum label says it's from Glenmalin bog, Malinmore, Co. Donegal, but I think this may be a mistake. According to Ó Floinn (1995), the artifact with accession number 1946:416 from Malinmore, Co. Donegal is a bale of linen. Ó Floinn's table also gives accession number 1946:416* for a group of clothing from Owenduff, Co. Mayo which includes a gown, a jacket, and a cloak. If the cloak in the photo is actually the one from Owenduff, it is probably from the 17th c (Dunlevy 1989). Alternatively, someone might have misidentified a wool cloak as a bale of linen. The museum label dates this as late Medieval to post-Medieval.

*Either Ó Floinn made a typo or this is a mistake in the museum records. Museums are not supposed to give the same accession number to 2 different artifacts. In the NMI's defense, 1946 was probably a messy year for everyone.

Bibliography:

Briggs, C. S. and Turner, R. C. (1986). Appendix: a gazetteer of bog burials from Britain and Ireland. In I. Stead, J. B. Bourke and D. Brothwell (eds) Lindow Man: the Body in the Bog (p. 181–95). British Museum Publications Ltd.

Delaney, M. and Ó Floinn, R. (1995). A Bog Body from Meenybradden Bog, County Donegal, Ireland. In R. C. Turner and R. G. Scaife (eds) Bog Bodies: New Discoveries and New Perspectives (p. 123–32). British Museum Press.

Dunlevy, Mairead (1989). Dress in Ireland. B. T. Batsford LTD, London.

Gernon, Luke (1620). A Discourse of Ireland. https://celt.ucc.ie/published/E620001/

McClintock, H. F. (1943). Old Irish and Highland Dress. Dundalgan Press, Dundalk.

McGann, K. (2000). What the Irish Wore/The Shinrone Gown — An Irish Dress from the Elizabethan Age. Reconstructing History. http://web.archive.org/web/20080217032749/http:/www.reconstructinghistory.com/irish/shinrone.html

O’Floinn, R. (1995). Recent research into Irish bog bodies. In R. C. Turner and R. G. Scaife (eds) Bog Bodies: New Discoveries and New Perspectives (p. 137–45). British Museum Press.

Vital, Laurent (1518). Archduke Ferdinand's visit to Kinsale in Ireland, an extract from Le Premier Voyage de Charles-Quint en Espagne, de 1517 à 1518. translated by Dorothy Convery and edited by me. https://irish-dress-history.tumblr.com/post/721163132699131904/laurent-vitals-1518-description-of-ireland

#16th century #17th century #irish dress #dress history #gaelic ireland #historical men's fashion #historical women's fashion #bog finds #irish history #historical dress #brog #bratanna #irish mantle #headwear #triús #cóta mór

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heavencanbeaprisontoo · 2 months

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Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader Prologue: An Odd Woman

Summary: Tommy meets you in 1919, the beginning that feels like an ending in hindsight. Among betting men there is a vibrant culture of superstition and mysticism. It was in this industry you found your trade as a “psychic,” and met a man with a Red Right Hand.

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn, Tommy is shallow and confused at first. WC: 1.6k

1919 was an odd year for Mr. Shelby. His eyes were still bright, the boy who died in the tunnels still clung to his ankles as he stalked the roads of Birmingham. In those days, Tommy was still starving for money. For any sort of gain in power. He still slept on an old mattress with his drug of choice within reach. He still delivered his horses to mystics and magicians to psych out the competitors of the next day’s race. It was this Thomas Shelby who brought himself to the door of your flat. You, the newest little medium in Small Heath.

He had heard many things about you. How you seemed to just “know,” things. You weren’t gypsy, but there were whispers that you could see inside hearts and minds like no other. For a reasonable fee, you would read a person like a book tell them the next chapter of their life without hesitation. He was not normally the sort to seek your kind out. Thomas Shelby could see ahead just fine without the guide of psychic, genuine or charlatan in nature. Until, of course, a crate of guns came into his possession and an Irish woman sang to him from atop a table. Even the devil needs direction, sometimes.

That morning, the devil had sought you out.

Your flat looked the same as any other. There were green vines and a purple curtain blocking his view inside your window. Plain bricks on the outside. Gutter hanging off slightly from your roof. Thinking it best to just get it all over with, he knocked. You answered. And he froze.

When he first saw you, there was nothing extraordinary about you. You didn't wear a silk turban or line your eyes with black to convince your customers of some supernatural gift. You were just a young woman dressed comfortably in her little flat. A long, thick robe suited for the winter chill was tied around your body and sensible slippers on your feet. Nothing overly frilly or fanciful. Tommy would almost call your presentation "dowdy." However, what had made him freeze were your eyes. He knows the power of his own stare. Your stare was something truly unique. It was something he couldn’t quite put into words. The color of your eyes was not exceptional, nor the size of your eyes or their shape. There was a force behind the stare that had him fixed to the spot. The sound of your voice was all that put him back into the world.

“Can I help you?” your tone is flat, but he can’t decide of its intentional.

Tommy takes a glance from the corner of his eye to ensure there are no onlookers. The roads are empty. He looks into your eyes once more and says, “You see the future, I hear.”

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat,” you step aside to let him inside. He almost hesitates. Second thoughts are not something Tommy likes to entertain. To falter, to ruminate, is to dance at the edge of cowardice. Tommy pushes onward and crosses the threshold of your home. Thus begins the start of a most unusual affair.

The lighting was dim in your little flat, and on the walls were dozens of shadowboxes were every assortment of insect on display. In fact, nearly everything in your home appeared to be some sort of collection. Orderly in their presentation but crowded due to lack of space. All the furniture looked inherited rather than new, but that was typical. There was the scent of lavender and cedar in the air. As he passed by two sticks of incense burning on the mantle of your fireplace, he found the origin of the fragrance.

‘No trace of any other resident in the home. No husband. How modern’, he thought. As he made his observations, Tommy was painfully aware of your eyes on his back. You guided him silently to a small room with two sofas facing each other. He sat opposite to you, not bothering to remove his cap. As you sit across from him, your eyes are everywhere but him. Roving about the room as you tap your thumb to the tip of each finger on your hand. By the way you were sitting, someone just entering the room might assume you were a guest by how stiff your posture was. Back completely straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. This was your home, your time, and Tommy looked more at ease sitting on your own furniture.

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time,” you say as your bottom hits the sofa cushion. He hears you. He hears you make a correct assumption about him, but he does not show his acknowledgement.

Tommy threads his fingers together on his lap, “They say you can see inside of people, tell them things about them that even they don’t know.”

Blinking owlishly at him you reply, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! Should put that on a sign outside my doorway. Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby. You are Mr. Shelby yes?”

“That I am,” he nearly laughs, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

Your eyes snap onto his own and again he feels caught off guard by it. Slowly, you lean forward, “It’s not like you to need help. You avoid seeking it. Something has happened to you that has never happened before, you do not know how to carry on because you cannot fall back on learned tactics to navigate the storm.”

He says nothing. Tommy finds you don’t require his input to carry on speaking as you tilt your head and continue. As you speak, you never break eye contact. Your gaze is one that leaves him feeling stripped to the bone. Flesh peeled back and pinned so that you may inspect him further with an objective, curious eye, "One of the walking wounded, soldier come home from war. You don't sleep well. None of you do. But, you hide it better than most."

"Quite the assumption," he deadpanned.

You carry on as if not hearing him, “A Catholic without Christ. Guilty but without remorse. You only follow yourself and yet you have lost faith within. So, you act out of your own character to try to find a solution to a problem you’ve made yourself. A problem with solutions you can't commit to.”

Tommy’s heart is beating faster in his chest. The plain-faced woman who greeted him at the door has been replaced. Your face seems to change, the sir around you shifting. There is a thrill in being seen. A thrill, but also annoyance. “And what would you do to solve such a problem?”

“It wouldn’t help you to know what anyone else would do. Even if my way was best, you wouldn’t obey it. Obedience is not something you do willingly,” there’s a smile in your eyes that makes his hands tighten around each other. “Is your greatest problem above, below, or beside you?”

His face remains stoic as he mulls over your odd question. He thinks of those beneath him, the factory workers who riot and cause him distraction. Beside him, his brothers in arms and brothers by blood. Ada. Freddie…. Grace. And then he thinks of Campbell and Kimber. “Above me, always.”

You nod, “There was no need for you to come see me. You know the answer to the question before you asked it. The greatest woe for you is that there are matters of the heart keeping you from stabbing upwards to the enemies who stand over you. You aren’t used to having that sort of obstacle... You need to decide what you want more and act accordingly. To have both things will end poorly, but I can't stop you. Nobody can but you.”

For a moment, he feels a sense of relief. It had been many years since the words of a stranger had done that to him. This feeling was overtaken by an immediate realization. He had come to you under the assumption that you were gifted by second-sight. Yet… You had no cards, no crystals, did not say a prayer or even a hymn in a nonsense language.

“You’re no medium,” he states it as fact. Not as a question or accusation. Though, he watches to see how you take it. Tommy likes to see how people respond to being caught, he finds it to be the most revealing time for most. For the third or fourth time since he laid eyes on you, you defied expectation.

With a slow shrug you say, “I’ve never made the claim that I was one. Everyone started saying so one day and I decided not to correct them. I just read people.”

‘What an odd woman,’ Tommy leaned back in his seat. Face still as stone. As he looked at you, your posture returned to that stiff, nearly-too-straight, position from before. He could see why the average man would see you as something beyond the natural. Ordinary to otherworldly. An odd woman indeed. You stand from your couch with a small, crooked smile, “That’ll be ten quid, Mr. Shelby, a discount for a first-time reading. It'll be thirteen for the next time.”

He pushed the money into your hands and said, "Won't be a next time." You gave him no audible response as you walked him to your door and released him from the dreamworld your home had trapped him in. Tommy did not look back as he walked three paces from your door and lit a cigarette. No one had seen him and he had a feeling you wouldn't share his visit with others.

Tommy pushed you from his mind to focus on what may come next.

The rest of the day moved quickly and slowly all at once after he left your little flat. He swore to himself that he would never go back. Swore that he hated every instant spent in your dark home that smelled of lavender and cedar. Swore that he despised the way you peeled back his skin with that glare so sharp. No, he couldn't feel them on him. Not at all.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #Thomas Shelby x autistic!reader #autistic!reader

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vitaminseetarot · 1 month

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PAC: How Will You Experience Good Luck This Spring? 🍀💰🌈

Sup y'all, welcome back to a rather verdant and hopeful pick a card reading! I hope y'all are antsy for a colorful free tarot game, 'cause I'll be rolling one out starting tomorrow 3/18, until Thursday 3/21. More details will be out tomorrow when the game opens, but today's three swatch selections will give you a little hint at what's to come.

Select one of the three green palette cards below, or from one of the corresponding emojis, to find out how you'll experience a bit of luck this coming season.

Pile 1 - Luck of the Irish Pile 2 - Winter Shamrock Pile 3 - Clover Patch

Pile 1 - Luck of the Irish 🌄

Mystery, Lady's Mantle - Fortitude, 14. Intuition, 7 - Clear Aura; IX Hermit, 2 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, 9 of Cups, Page of Cups

"Gently place your feet on the path you were meant to travel."

Hey pile 1, I'm seeing that you're going to be fortunate where traveling anywhere may be concerned. You're feeling more ready than ever to take on the outside world. Can you see the winding road in Lady's Mantle? Even if you're not traveling physically, you will be lucky in whatever path you begin to follow in spring. With the key in intuition, you may have recently had to overcome certain trials in order to get to this point, and you seem pretty anxious to move on. But your message says to "gently place your feet," not "scramble to get out the door without checking your shoelaces first". You're being advised to walk, not run to your nearest destination, perhaps because you may still need to come to terms with the decision you're making. Be sure that this next path is one you want to follow, and keep in mind that what may seem to be the next stop is not necessarily the final one.

During your last chapter in life, which may have ended as recently as a day ago or as long as a year, you've had to put up with a lot of stress. Trying to juggle your personal needs along with everyone else's drama. You may have had the strong urge or tendency to stay tucked inside in order to recuperate. Winter has mainly been about healing from the previous year. This spring, you will be luckier going out the door to your next adventure without the baggage. I see the Hermit as stepping out of a dark cave to feel the first warm spring day of the year. You'll be rewarded for your patience and determination in getting through your ordeal, if even just by making it through each day even when it was difficult.

The key reminds me of video games specifically. In day to day life, we use them as tools to get from one place to another. But in games, a key can symbolize either an opportunity to find some good loot, or the chance to step up to the next level. Now that you have this key, this solution to a particular problem, you'll be able to move forward with more ease. The way is being gently lit for you, like a glowing path that takes you to your next goal. As easy as it makes the game to have this glowing path, don't forget to pick up things and check out areas along the way. Keep at least one foot in the present moment so you can find these bonuses.

You may not be necessarily sure of where you're going next right now, just a vague sense that you're moving on ahead. And it's okay if you don't have it all figured out right now. You'll be able to see how you can manage the life you have now with the life you desire. Tap into what you want, and meditate on where you would like to go next if money, energy, time, or obligations weren't factors. Dream of your next adventure before you fall asleep, imagine one that you make your inner child sing. Envision that every time you take a bath, you're washing away parts of the past that you no longer need, as with sleep. Spring will bring to you a sense of replenishment and newness.

Pile 2 - Winter Shamrock ❄

Faith, Yarrow - Pocket of Protection, 21. Travel, 9 - Self-Acceptance; Capricorn, 8 of Wands, Taurus, Page of Cups, XI Justice

"Fill up from the healing waters of Mother Earth's sacred springs and connect to her heartbeat. Become as one energy."

Dear pile 2, your hard work is finally paying off somewhere. Your luck will let you open up to your life again, like a butterfly stretching its wings. The Travel card here can talk about being lucky in your travels, but it more specifically talks about the chance of a new job or project opportunity coming in. This is something you've been diligently working for, even if it's just working for a certain amount of time off. You're used to putting in a significant amount of effort to go further. Your luck this spring will give you a chance to rest AND receive blessings that are overdue, the kind of good fortune that comes directly from your energy and time.

I'm seeing an emphasis on 8 here, with Faith and the 8 of Wands. Perhaps this represents the days or months you've had to work and wait for something important. The Eightfold Path of Buddhism may have some relevance for you. Your luck will come as a result of sticking to your virtues. The Wheel of the Year may also have relevance. Taurus and Capricorn are both hard working Earth signs, they're difference being that Taurus indulges in what it has worked for, while Capricorn gets more empowered by regularly pushing to the top. Understand that you do not need to do any extra or go above and beyond for the sake of receiving this luck any more. You've done all you needed to do to attract this energy to you. Remember that hiking is more than continuously climbing; it also involves chances to eat a snack while watching the clouds roll by between the mountains.

The Taurus card was meant to clarify Yarrow. Taurus is known for "I Have", the sign for material possessions. See how Yarrow is being held between hands safe in a bubble? You may be lucky in receiving something special this spring like a gift, or an expensive item you've wanted to splurge on for a while. If you're not sure how you'll acquire it just yet, try not to get too winded controlling the outcome. If it's meant to be in your life, it will be. If it's out of sale in one store, luck will have it that you'll be gifted by a friend who thought of you as they saw it. Your most precious possessions will be protected by luck this spring, particularly during your trips and vacations abroad.

Time based blockages are melting away, and you may be surprised at how quickly things progress once you take the chance to stop and breathe. You'll find that time becomes less of a factor in how things progress this season. What may seem like a week-long ordeal could take only a day for you to resolve. Interview offers may come in fast and hot, which will only be noticeable if you're actually granting yourself the chance to stop and listen to these offers instead of pushing for a certain result. Justice wants you to balance your ambitious nature with a desire to take it easy and enjoy the good life. You'll be given the ability to do both this season. Accept the amount of progress you've already made, as you've likely done much more than you think. You'll increase your luck by accepting your current situation while having faith that your goals will still be there when you're ready to climb upwards again.

Pile 3 - Clover Patch 🍀

Cleanse, Red Clover - Center and Ground, 31. Release, 27 - Divine Light; XIV Temperance, 10 of Swords, Knight of Cups, 9 of Cups, 5 of Wands

"The light that you are seeking is already within you. Follow those things that bring peace to your soul."

Pile 3, wowie! You got the Red Clover next to Clover Patch! Notice how the flowers are wrapped around the heart. Some of you may have been battling a bad case of the winter blues, and this spring will give you a noticeable pep in your step. I recommend asking your doctor about Seasonal Affective Disorder if you suspect this is a regular issue every winter, although this is not guaranteeing you do have it. But I'm getting the feeling that you'll have the chance to heal your heart and regain a lot of lost energy and motivation either way. This spring will give you luck through giving you opportunities to find peace, joy, and contentment. You're stepping into light so you may bask in it. This fortune will bring about an internal change for you. (I'm hearing you'll somehow be luckier if you literally spend more time out in the sun!)

For some of you who are more religiously inclined, you may experience a deepened or renewed connection with your divine source this spring. Whether you pray to deities, ancestors, spirit guides, or your higher self, your connection will be empowered. If not as religious, you'll still feel more attached to the world around you and better aligned with your sense of life's purpose. You'll be feeling less "me against the world" and more "hey, the world's not perfect, but at least I've found my own footing." Temperance balances narcissus, of self love, and the iris, divine love. 10 of Swords shows that surrendering the past and allowing things to simply be will help you feel an refreshing and blissful period this spring.

I see a harp in Divine Light. It's less about moving forward and more about having the peace to dance in the now. Iris comes in many colors. This surge of spiritual awareness may come through in your artistic pursuits. Spring may help you creatively flow with ideas. Although Red Clover wants you to get you moving, it's also important with the 5 of Wands to ground these ideas by approaching them one at a time, little by little. Not everyone can do a productivity 180°, from making nothing to making 10 drawings a day. You'll have time this Spring to make art less of a chore and more of a joy. Art is a way to express ourselves, and you must have a lot to express after the winter you've been through.

Spring will give you a chance to play some catch-up, clearing away the things that drained your energy before. With peace of mind, it'll be easier to see what should stay and what should be left behind. Sometimes knowing what we don't want is as necessary as knowing what we do want. Major distractions are cleansed away in favor of working on what you've wanted to do for a while. If any of you struggle with artist or writer's block, I'm feeling relief here as chapters and sketches are drafted out freely as they come. If you're looking to renovate your living space, you'll have more ease in going through old things, replacing curtains, and dusting shelves to make more room. Your luck begins with inner peace, which radiates over time into expressing it through the world around you, reflecting your sense of spiritual connection. Art, home renovation, and even gardening are just a few of many examples for how you might creatively expand.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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brummiereader · 11 months

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PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART EIGHT)

Summary: After Tommy locks the reader in his room, she desperately tries to escape to get to him, will she succeed? Will Tommy use the information she gave him to save his life?

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes, smut (18+ minors DNI)

You had been sitting on Tommy's bed for hours. You tried countless times to open the door, but with no energy left and no more tears left to cry, you had given up. Staring off into the small room hopelessly waiting for Tommy to return, your eyes focused in on the old empty fireplace. Pushing away the hair that was now stuck to your face, you stood up and walked over to the dusty furnace. Grazing your hand over the top of the black mantle, you looked down. There beside the fireplace was a metal stoking iron. Picking it up you glanced over to the old wooden door, without a second thought you lodged the poker inbetween the door frame and the door itself. With all your force you pushed the metal rod towards the wooden frame prying it open. With a loud creak the door flung open as you stumbled back onto the floor, dropping the heavy iron pole. Breathing heavily you stood up rushing to your clothes as you frantically dressed yourself. With no time to lose, you bolted out the bedroom door running faster than your feet could take you down the stairs and out the front door.

"Y/N!" John shouted to you as you pushed past him, running down the street. Had it already happened? Was Tommy already dead? The thought alone had you crying uncontrollably as you held your skirt up, freeing your legs from the fitted garment as you raced desperately to him. Turning the corner a car suddenly stopped in front of you.

"Y/N, what the bloody hell is going on?" John asked as he lent over the passenger seat, opening the door for you. Climbing in breathless you tried to speak.

" It's...it's Tommy...his in trouble. His offices...Sabini" you managed to stumble out, as panic filled your eyes.

"What are you talking about?" he answered looking at you in complete confusion.

" We don't have fucking time for this! Go!" you said as you slid over, putting your foot down on the accelerator.

" Jesus Christ, hang on woman!" He said as he pushed your foot out the way. Speeding down the road John observed you in the corner of his eye. Hair disheveled, mud splashed all over your once pristine clothes, panic in your eyes, tears sticking to your cheeks...Who was this crazy girl? He wondered as he looked at your frightened face.

"Faster!" You shouted to him as you pushed his knee down making him press harder on the acceleration. Eyes wide, John turned to you in surprise. Never had he met a woman so determined, so forward absolutely relentless, a match for Tommy if there ever was one, he concluded.

Turning the corner you recognised the building instantly. John hadn't even stopped the car before you opened the door, jumping out into the pouring rain.

" Bloody hell, Y/N wait!" He said as he pulled the handbrake, running after you. Approaching the building you heard a whistle blow as multiple gunshots filled the night sky, men quickly scrambling away from a small garage into the downpour . Following the noise you watched as countless police officers then ran into the same area.

"Tommy!" you screamed as you turned the corner, fear in your eyes as you saw him laying on the concrete covered in blood.

" Shit" John said as he followed behind you, shock on his face at the sight of his brother helpless, unprotected.

"Tommy it's me, I'm here, get an ambulance!" you shouted at the policemen behind you. Cradling his head in your lap, you looked down at his bloodied face as he grabbed onto your arm trying to pull himself closer to you until, with no energy left he let go.

"I suppose we should see if the bastards still alive " A man with a walking stick said as he approached you, his thick Irish accent filling your ears. Turning to face you he looked down giving you a smirk as he then walked away, the sound of his cane echoing through the rain.

A few hours later you was sitting beside Tommy in hospital, holding his hand as tears fell from your eyes. Gripping onto the metal frame at the end of his bed, John watched you as you focused your stare in on Tommys chest, watching it rise and fall, panicking whenever his breathing labored.

"What happend?" You heard a voice say as the doors flung opened. Turning around you realised it was the same lady from the betting shop, Tommy's older brother Arthur following behind her.

" Sabini and his men beat the shit out of him" John said as he chewed at his tooth pick. Wide eyed the older lady walked over to the opposite side of the bed, resting the back of her hand to Tommys forehead.

"Fuck!" Arthur said as he kicked over a chair, pushing his hands through his hair.

"Arthur, calm down" the dark haired woman told him as she looked down at her injured nephew." Why was you at his offices?" she asked looking over to John.

" Saw Y/N here bolting out the house, caught up with her, said Tommy was in trouble. Never seen a woman run as fast as she did " he answered nodding towards you. Nervously shifting in your seat, you made eyed contact with the mysterious lady across from you.

" You saved his life" she said quietly, reaching for you hand.

" Bet...she could, out...run you Arthur" you heard Tommy croak as he tried to sit up, squeezing your hand tightly.

" Not bloody likely" Arthur replied chuckling, as everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief. Opening his eyes, you were the first person he looked at, as he softly caressed your hand with his thumb.

" Hi" he said smiling to you.

"Hi" was all you could manage back as you brushed away your tears with your other hand.

" Come on, he's well looked after" the older lady said next to him smiling, nodding to you as she stood up. "Out, out!" She loudly said as she batted the two brothers out the room with her hand .

"What about Sabini?" Arthur asked as he was being pushed out the door.

"Out!" She demanded once more.

" Bloody hell Pol give us a sec..." You heard in the distance as the door shut.

" You're alive" you said smiling to him, relieved.

" Only because of you" he answered pointing to you.

" I didn't think you would listen"

"Oh I listened love, can't say you did the same" he replied chuckling. " I contacted Campbell after I left the house, he said he would intervene, which he did, but let me get the beating I imagine he thought I deserved beforehand" he added groaning in pain as he tried to turn his body to face you.

" How did you get out?" He asked as he cocked an eyebrow.

" Broke out" you said smiling. Scoffing Tommy shook his head.

" You owe me a new door miss Y/L/N" he chuckled. " I knew you'd get out some how, never give up, eh?"

"Never..." you said as you leaned in gently pressing your lips to his.

You stayed at the hospital with Tommy for the rest of the night, he had told you to go back to his to get some rest, but you insisted on staying. Knowing you wouldn't listen to him, and with no strength to argue, he reluctantly agreed. You slept peacefully next to him as you rested your head on the side of his pillow, and for the first time in a very long time so did Tommy.

The next day you woke up with a thumping heachache, yesterdays events had obviously taken it out you. After freshening yourself up in public bathroom, you walked into Tommy's room as the same man from last night passed you by. Tilting his hat to you, you watched him walk out the hospital entrance, his cane thudding on the tiled floors with each step.

" What's he doing here?" You asked Tommy as you walked towards him.

" Irish business" he said groaning as he stood up from the bed.

" Tommy! What the hell are you doing?" you asked as you rushed to him, holding him up.

" I'm a sitting duck here Y/N, Sabini's men could come back at any moment to finish me off " he answered as he reached for his coat and hat.

" Tommy you can't leave, you need to rest" you said looking at him, astonished by his resilience.

" You won't win this one love. He said smirking. " Come on we're gonna take a boat" he added as he held onto you, wincing in pain as you both walked out the hospital doors.

Four days you had been travelling to London by canal, all the time staying by Tommy's bedside on the small barge called the "January". You helped him in any way you could, and surprisingly he let you. Tommy, always ahead of everything was already planning his next course of action, spending most of his time writing down notes in a small black book when he should have been resting. Was that why you was going to London, another plan?

Walking down the wooden steps into the small bedroom, a cigarette resting between his lips, he watched you as you busied yourself cleaning up the old bandages you had just changed.

" Come 'ere" he said as he stubbed his cigarette out." You alright? You're pale" He asked holding you in front of him, worried by your fairer complexion.

" I'm fine, just been a lot these past few days" you answered, deliberately not mentioning the pain in your head.

" Finally a bit of excitement for you, eh?" He chuckled as you playfully hit his arm, the memory flooding your recollection when he teased you about your "mundane" life.

" Tomorrow I need to go see a man, alright?" He said ducking his head down to meet your eyes.

" I'll go with you"

" No Y/N, this time you stay here with Curly'

" But Tommy.."

"Hey" He said holding your chin with his thumb." You don't need to worry, ok?" he added winking at you as a cheeky smile formed on his lips.

"Ok" you nodded unable to stop your blushing cheeks.

Cupping your face with his hands Tommy leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your waiting mouth. Placing your arms around his neck you moved closer as you pressed your body against his, deepening the embrace as you quietly moaned into his lips. Whilst his hands softly caressed your waist, he dipped his tongue into your mouth, passionately brushing it against your own. Heat rising in your bodies, Tommy's hand traced up your spine tangling his hand into your hair, pulling you closer to his face.

"Y/N" he stopped breathless as he pressed his forehead against yours " We don't have to".

" I want to" you replied, opening your pleading eyes to meet his lustful stare as you held onto the front of his shirt. Crashing his lips back onto yours he walked you slowly to the edge of the small single bed. Hands all other eachothers body unable to hold back anymore, you both frantically began taking the others clothes off, desperate to feel eachothers body heat. Standing next to the bed holding the small of your back quietly panting from the intensity of the moment, Tommy tried to catch his breath as he looked down at your naked bodies, letting out a hiss, he pushed himself flush against your stomach, his arousal already dripping from his swollen tip. Feeling the now desperate need for him to be in you, you let yourself fall onto the bed as Tommy climbed on top of you, spreading your legs with his body as he settled down between your thighs. You let out a small moan as you finally felt him pressed against your waiting heat, desperate for more.

"Tommy please..." You whined as you pushed your hips up to his. With his fingers softly stroking up the inside of you thigh he grabbed hold of himself, slowly entering you whilst he let out a whimper of a moan, as your body's slid together as one.

" Fuck...Y/N" he groaned quietly into you ear, feeling your wet heat wrapped around him. He had been wanting, waiting for this moment longer than he wanted to admit, now finally at one with eachother he pressed his lips onto yours as he slowly rocked himself into you. Hands gripping onto his back, you held on as tight as you could, relishing in the feeling of him inside of you, adoring you, pleasuring you...making love to you. Panting into eachothers mouths, sweat gathered on your foreheads as you looked deep into eachothers eyes. Stopping Tommy cupped your cheek.

" Y/N...I love you" he said looking at you desperately waiting for your response.

" I...I love you too Tommy" you said as you crashed your lips back onto his. Tommy holding onto your body picked up the pace as he drove himself into you, harder, deeper, desperately craving the high your body would soon give him.

" Tommy I'm so close" you said moaning into his mouth as you clenched yourself around him. Groaning at the sudden increased tightness, he could barely hold on, grabbing your outer thigh with his sweaty hand he rocked into you faster as he buried his head into your neck.

"God Y/N.. I'm going to.." he breathed against your neck, the words barely leaving his lips as his whole body stiffened, scrunching his eyes as he released his hot white arousal into you with force.

"Tommy..." You whined as you grabbed onto his shoulders reaching your high as he continued to throb inside you.

Looming over you, sweaty and breathless Tommy placed a tender kiss to your lips, nudging your nose with his as he pulled out collapsing beside you exhausted. Turning to face you he watched as your bare chest moved up and down beads of sweat trailing down to your stomach.

" Hey" he said turning your chin to face him. "You ok?"

" Perfect" you said smiling to him, ignoring the ringing in your ears.

Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you closer to him as he held your hand. Both content and in peace you rested your head on his chest as you listened to his beating heart, he was alive, he was safe and you was here with him, finally. As you tried to get comfortable, the ringing in your ears was getting louder, almost unbearable.

" You ok Y/N" Tommy said opening his eyes a content smile on his face as he stroked up and down your arm.

" Yeh I'm fine" you answered as the thumping in your head increased. You was just tired, you tried to reassure yourself as you adjusted your position in his arms. Suddenly you started to feel hot, your hands sweaty the ringing becoming deafening. In a panic you abruptly stood up from the bed, your hand pressed against your forehead.

"What's wrong ?" Tommy questioned, fear in his eyes as he watched your face go a deathly white. Turning to face him you held yourself up by a nearby chair as the room spun around you. Eyes glossed over you looked at him, mumbling in a shaky panicked voice,

"Tommy, I don't feel so good..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @theshelbyclan @babayaga67 @sysymei @nataliewalker93 @cherryslyce @globetrotter28 @jyessaminereads @meowtastick @kathrinemelissa @casa-boiardi

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #a ghost of a man

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lilianasgrimoire · 5 days

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Herbs & Correspondences G-L

Galangal Root - Also called Lo John the Conqueror or Lo John. Carry into legal proceedings to help win. Money, gambling and hex breaking. Also aids luck and psychic development. Element Fire.

Garlic - Magical uses include speed, health and endurance, also protection, exorcism and purification. Use also to promote your inner strength. Element Fire.

Gentian - Increases spell power. Good luck and works well in love & romance spells. Element Fire.

Ginger - Increases magic power. Success, love, money and power. Element Fire.

Ginseng - Promotes love, beauty, healing and lust. Element Fire.

Hawthorn Wood- Associated with Beltane. Magical uses include chastity, fertility, fairy magic, fishing magic, and rebirth. Success in career, work, and employment. Use it to work with the fae. Used in weddings and handfasting's to increase fertility. Element Water. Hawthorne Berries aid chastity. Hope, protection and happiness. Element Fire.

Hearts Ease - Also called Violet. It helps to mend a broken heart. Aids rebirth, peace, wishes and luck. Calms the nerves and promotes peace and tranquility. Element Water.

Hemlock - Use to paralyze a situation and a funeral herb. Highly Toxic. Element Water.

Henbane - Dried leaves are used in the consecration of ceremonial vessels. Used in love sachets and charms to gain the love of the person desired. Highly Toxic. Element Water.

Hibiscus - Attracting love and lust. Use in divination. Associated with lunar magic. Element Water.

High John - (The Conqueror) An "all purpose" herb. Use it for strength, confidence, conquering any situation. Good luck, prosperity and protection. Element Fire.

Holly Hock - Protecting, all Fairy magic, abundance, personal growth and aids passing. Related to Lammas. Element Earth.

Horehound - Protective against evil doings. Helps with mental clarity during ritual; stimulates creativity/inspiration; balances personal energies and healing. Element Earth.

Horsetail - Use for strength and resolve. Protection, cleansing and clearing unwanted emotions. Element Earth.

Hyssop - Used for purification. Banishing, protection and healing. Element Fire.

Irish Moss - Used for luck. Ideal for gamblers! Attracts money and customers for self-employed. Offers protection. Element Water

Ivy - Protection, healing and fertility. Use for love and hang at handfasting's. Element Fire.

Jasmine - The herb of attraction. Helps prophetic dreaming, money and love. Element Water.

Juniper - See Cedar berries.

Lady's Mantle - Aphrodisiac and transmutation. Use in love spells and those of fertility. Increases magic power in spells and connects with fairy lore. Element Water.

Laurel- See Bay leaf.

Lavender - Magical uses include healing, sleep and peace. It also promotes chastity and love. Increases longevity of life, tranquility and happiness. Element Air.

Lemon Balm - Also called Melissa. Love, success and healing. Aids psychic/spiritual development. Supports mental health disorders and compassion. Element Water.

Lemon Grass - Psychic cleansing and opening. Use in lust potions and when using Dragon Magic. Element Air.

Licorice Root - Love, lust, and fidelity. Also attracts passion. Element Water.

Lilac - Wisdom, memory, good luck and spiritual aid. Element Water.

Linden Flower - Wisdom, justice, love and protection. Element Air.

Lime Tree Leaf - Healing, calm and love. Aids strength and tranquility. Element Air.

Little John - See Galangal root.

Lungwort - Use in air magic or as an offering to the Gods of air. Offers safe travel when flying. Element Air.

#witch #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #wicca #witches #pagan witch #paganism #pagan wicca #polytheism #herbsforspells #herbalism #herbs #herb correspondences

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grigori77 · 2 months

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Once again, to celebrate this awesome day, I thought I'd give another shout-out to some more of those wonderful ladies that I alove and admire, both those who hve inspired me for a while now, and those that I just recently discovered ...

IMAN VELLANI. Oh my sweet girl! :3 Exploding onto the scene thanks to the recent acclaimed hit/fan favourite that was the Disney/Marvel Ms. Marvel streaming show, the most adorable geek girl in ALL THE WORLD really got a major, much deserved profile boost (regardless of the problems) thanks to her co-starring return to the role of super-popular young Marvel superhero Kamala Khan in The Marvels. She's a genuine absolute SWEETHEART and she deserves all the success that's surely coming to her.

GIDEON NAV & HARROWHARK NONAGESIMUS. Yup, I have FINALLY gotten round to reading Tamsyn Muir's ridiculously popular sci-fi fntasy novel series The Locked Tomb! It's still early days, I'm only on Gideon the Ninth, but I am ALREADY falling head over heels in love with the story's central duo, the reluctant warrior Gideon, a snarky oversized golden retriever of a woman, and her "hated" charge, Harrow, the scheming, overly-ambitious scion to an ancient clan of intergalactic necromancers, who's a metaphorical vicious little soaked ferret. I love them, they're so adorably dysfunctional ...

AWKWAFINA. For me, one of the funniest people around, this musician, comedian and actress deserves every ounce of success she's earned for herself. I mostly know her for her acting, having been a fan ever since she was in Ocean's 8, since showing up in a raft of great roles in the likes of Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings, Raya & the Last Dragon, Crazy Rich Asians and Swan Song, although she's REALLY hitting her stride now, showing up in REALLY BIG stuff like Renfield, Quiz L\ady and, now, the incoming (and long-awaited) Kung Fu Panda 4.

TATIANA SUAREZ. Perhaps the most incredible sportswoman I have come across in a good long while, this one is a TRUE INSPIRATION REVELATION. A strong up-and-coming contender for UFC World Champion, she's been through SO MUCH in her life to get where she is now, having had her teenage dreams of being an Olympic Gold Medal wrestler dashed after an accident during training led to the discovery of a burgeoning case of thyroid cancer. Fighting off the condition, she then fought her way back after embracing judo and then mixed martial arts, before AGAIN suffering a debilitating neck injury which NEARLY ended her sporting career again, forcing her to take another long-term hiatus to get back into fighting shape ... just as COVID hit. Now she's back again, fighting fit and better than ever, hungry for that next chance and looking like she's definitely gonna get it this time ...

SINEAD O'CONNOR. The last 13 months have been really tough, we've had to say goodbye to some truly wonderful people, but one in particular REALLY HURT. The music industry lost a true GEM with the passing of this genuine GODDESS, the Irish singer-songwriter best known for her INSANELY popular cover of Prince's Nothing Compares 2 U, although those in the know recognise that she was ONE HELL of a force nature in her own right, courting controversy throughout her career for her outspoken religious and political views. She NEVER backed down on what she believed, and earned my undying respect and admiration for it.

FLORENCE PUGH. A completely amazing young actress who's had a trily ASTOUNDING rise to fame in recent years, I've be a fan of Flo's ever since she broke out in a MASSIVE WAY in the twisted psychological drama Lady Macbeth. She's blown us all away since, lighting up the screen in the likes of midsommar, Don't Worry Darling, Oppenheimer and, now, Dune, Part Two, but now, for me she will ALWAYS be Yelena Belova, the true successor to the MCU's Black Widow mantle.

MIZU. One of my favourite female characters of the past year (although I'm sure she would balk at actually bringing up her gender), the titular lead protagonist of Netflix' wild runaway success new animated series Blue Eye Samurai is a genuinely fascinating and intoxivating character, who prompts profound debate about gender roles and personal identity while kicking arse in SPECTACULAR FASHION indeed in feudal Japan.

TEYONAH PARRIS. Definitely one of THE MOST AMAZING African American actresses coming up right now, this young lady is definitely earning her breakout star status. Having come up through sterling turns in the likes of Dear White People, Chi-Raq, If Beale Street Could Talk and Candyman, before finally making good on all that promise with high profile lead turns in THey Cloned Tyrone and her ongoing role as MCU superhero MOnica Rambeau/Photon in Wandavision and The Marvels.

BILLIE EILISH. What do I REALLY need to say about one of the most popular and astoundingly unique musical artists of the moment? Ever since her breakthrough at just THIRTEEN YEARS OLD with her wildly successful first single, Ocean Eyes, which became a massive runaway smash on Youtube, this incredibly talented young singer songwriter has consistently impressed with ever release, entirely deserving her immense success with an amazing debut EP and two subsequently BRILLIANT albums. She keeps going from strength to strength, and at just 22 years old is only just BEGINNING what's sure to be a MONSTER of a career ...

KITTY O'NEIL. A true legend in cinema, even though most of us have NEVER actually seen her face, this little lady was one of the GREATEST stuntwomen and racers of all time, and a MASSIVE inspiration throughout her life as well. Despite going deaf due to illness during childhood, Kitty still went on to become a record-breaking racing driver and professional stunt performer, probably best known for having doubled Linda Cart in Wonder Woman and Lyndsey Wagner in The Bionic Woman. It's a genuine mystery why Hollywood hasn't made a biopic about her yet ...

HOLGA KILGORE. Probably my ABSOLUTE favourite fictional female protagonist of 2023, the badass barbarian lady from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves was a pure, unapologetic JOY, thanks in no small part to a wonderfully game turn from Michelle Rodriguez. Holga's just an absolute sweetheart, fully capable of decimating a whole room full of big, dangerous men with her bare hands without ever losing her gentle kindness, simple, honest innocence and unswerving loyalty. TRULY the MVP warrior tank any adventuring party wants in their corner ...

SIOUXSIE SIOUX. Truly one of alternative rock's true, all time GOATs, the lead singer of one of goth's greatest and most important bands, Siouxsie & the Banshees, is a singular master of haunting, ethereal vocals and a genuine style ICON who lent her look and manner to a whole GENERATION of scary young women ...

SABINE WREN & SHIN HATI. While my favourite Star Wars offering of 2023, the opening season of the Ahsoka series, was, all round, just SO GREAT for me, there was one particular element that just stuck with me above ANYTHING ELSE - the season-long rivalry between Ahsoka's troubled Mndalorian apprentice Sabine and Dark Jedi student Shin. They raged, continuously tried to kill each other and endlessly traded smouldering looks of hate that bordered on OBSESSION ... all while genuinely SIMMERING with barely restrained sexual tension. They made the whole fandom FERAL, myself includced. #wolfwren indeed ...

BRODY DALLE. And last, but BY NO MEANS LEAST, a little more personal self-indulgience ith one of my greatest rock-fan super crushes, namely the awesome Aussie lead singer/guitarist of supercool punk bands the Distillers and Spinnerette. Still rocking her iconic status to this day, she remains a genuine inspiration ...

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super-hero-confessions · 8 months

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Interesting that the people who hate or criticize Captain America do so because they think he's the classic American white boi like Homelander without realizing he is a more direct and nonsatirical criticism against what makes a Homelander or the Homelander mentality.

Cap's meant to represent what Americans should strive for while harshly critisizing the worst of what America is and has done. True patriotism is recognizing the problems at hand and doing your best to work on and improve them, especially when you have the power to do so. And 616 Cap has. When he's wrong he admits it and tries to do better. Having consideration and compassion for others. This would be why he has lost faith in the flag many times, wore that gaudy awful Nomad suit and literally fights against the U.S. government when he knows what they're doing is wrong.

Also why he has multiple enemies that are actual white supremacists or pro-America propaganda white bois. And why those in universe assuming he is an authoritarian propagandist who works solely for government interests are portrayed as obviously wrong or being proven wrong. Almost all of his enemies are Nazis which is more than can be said about 99.9% of Golden or other Age comics trash.

Being the "1940s white man" and a "disabled Irish kid no one looked twice at" as Steve Rogers who disagrees with everything his time period supports helps drive the point home that it shouldn't matter what you are or where you come from, you should always try to do what's right. Hammered in further by the Cap mantle being taken on by others of different backgrounds and experiences following the same philosophy and trying to spread that same beautiful and essential message.

"Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world -- "No, you move.""

"We must all live in the real world… and sometimes that world can be pretty grim. But it is the Dream… the hope… that makes the reality worth living. In the early 1940s, I made a personal pledge to uphold the Dream… And as long as the Dream remains even partially unfulfilled, I cannot abandon it!"

But basically and ironically, who he is and that the Cap mantle's been passed around is ignored. He's hated for all the wrong reasons of what he literally isn't and it makes them massive hypocrites who refuse to see past their own prejudice and bias, just like the racists who 'love' him for the same wrong reasons.

Fascinating and a bit hilarious. But also deeply tragic.

Think it may be time for them follow Cap's example and start learning to do better instead of just being bitter.

Oh, and Cap and Co. would definitely vote for Bernie. He even dated a Bernie!

#confession #homelander #captain america

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chic-a-gigot · 1 year

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La Mode nationale, no. 5, 1 février 1902, Paris. No. 1. — Toilettes pour jeunes femmes. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Explication des gravures:

(1) Sortie de bal pour jeune femme. Mante en panne vert mousse, dentelée et bordée d'un haut volant de dentelle souligné d'une bande de fourrure.

Capuchon de taffetas blanc plissé, liséré de fourrure avec intérieur coulissé en satin saphir. Grand nœud et pans de satin vert mousse fixé par une boucle en simili.

(1) Ball cape for a young woman. Mantle in moss green panne, serrated and edged with a high lace flounce underlined with a strip of fur.

Pleated white taffeta hood, fur trim with sapphire satin drawstring interior. Large bow and panels of moss green satin fixed by a faux buckle.

Matériaux: 8 mètres de panne; 1m,50 de taffetas blanc; 1m,25 de satin saphir.

—

(2) Robe de bal pour jeune femme, en taffetas rose-pastel. Jupe collant, tablier uni autour, sauf devant, nombreux volants en mousseline de soie rose surmontés d'un large entre-deux d'Irlande.

Corsage drapé en mousseline de soie sur taffetas; la draperie se noue derrière en flots mousseux. Autour du décolleté en V, berthe double en dentelle, croisée devant; chute de velours noir sur le bras gauche.

(2) Ball gown for a young woman, in pastel pink taffeta. Tight skirt, plain apron all around, except in front, many ruffles in pink silk muslin surmounted by a large Irish insertion.

Draped bodice in chiffon over taffeta; the drapery is knotted behind in frothy waves. Around the V neckline, double lace berthe, crossed in front; black velvet draped on the left arm.

Matériaux: 14 mètres de taffetas; 16 mètres de mousseline de soie.

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irelandseyeonmythology · 3 months

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So I’ve been getting more into broader brehon law, not just marriage law, and is it true they had laws about how many different colors you could wear? I can’t find any sources about it but maybe I’m just not looking hard enough

That comes from one kind of famous (ish?) passage from the Annals, that reads as follows (from the O'Donovan translation):

Do I think it was something people followed? ...probably not, honestly. We don't see much reference to it elsewhere. Not to say there were NO restrictions, but it's to say that I think it's often taken 100% uncritically and you'd think we'd see more reference to it elsewhere, in the actual lawbooks, if that was the case. (Though, naturally, some of it's practical, in the sense that...would a slave be able to have more than one color? Being a slave? Very likely not.) It's the issue with all sumptuary laws, which is "to what extent were these things widely being used?"

To quote from Sparky Booker's "Moustaches, Mantles, and Saffron Shirts: What Motivated Sumptuary Law in Medieval English Ireland?": "In terms of implementation, the success of enforcement of sumptuary laws varied.11 Indeed, historians disagree about whether these laws were intended to be enforced fully, or whether they were 'primarily symbolic,' a method of 'affirm[ing] values' and even actively shaping the social world by enshrining socio-economic divisions in law."

We know that medieval Ireland had a number of colors associated with the aristocracy: purple (like with the rest of Europe) seems to be common, white, red, like in this description from the Táin (Recension 1, O'Rahilly's translation): "He held a light sharp spear which shimmered. He was wrapped in a purple, fringed mantle, with a silver brooch in the mantle over his breast. He wore a white hooded tunic with red insertion and carried outside his garments a golden-hilted sword."

Likewise, the famous description of Etáin in Togail Bruidne Da Derga (Stokes' translation):

"A mantle she had, curly and purple, a beautiful cloak, and in the mantle silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle she wore, long, hooded, hard-smooth, of green silk, with red embroidery of gold. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts and her shoulders and spaulds on every side. The sun kept shining upon her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green silk was manifest to men."

For more on this, see Niamh Whitfield, "Aristocratic Display in Early Medieval Ireland in Fiction and in Fact: The Dazzling White Tunic and Purple Cloak", which she's generously put on Academia.

After the English colonization of Ireland, you have new sumptuary laws being put into place -- Booker discusses the earliest case we have, from 1297, when a hairstyle known as the "cúlán" was banned for Englishmen, with the enactment complaining that the Englishmen were taking it up to such an extent that they were getting killed after being mistaken for Irishmen. (I feel like there is a solution to this that does not involve banning the hairstyle, let me think...)

You had similar fines being imposed on saffron sleeves or kerchiefs for women, or wearing a mantle in general for men, as of 1466 in Dublin -- these aren't as a matter of maintaining social class so much as preserving a distinction between the English and the Irish (what's interesting, of course, is that the English had to have been adopting these fashions to some extent for the law to be needed.) And we see them routinely going back to this aversion towards saffron colors, since it was associated extensively with Ireland and Irishness, and a particularly high value one at that.

So: Eochaidh Eadghaghach -- that section in the annals provides the quote that says that this is a thing that happened -- I leave it to you to decide whether it was ever practiced or even in place in the first place. I think it might have, if only as a societal ideal, but I'm incredibly doubtful. We know that colors often ARE used as a way of marking social standing in the literature, but I don't think it was as regimented as that quote suggests. Sumptuary laws ARE better recorded in a post-Norman invasion context, usually (though not ALWAYS) as a means of marking out the Irish from the English populations (even though we know, both from this and other evidence, that these lines weren't always as firm as the authorities might have liked.)

I know that Kelly also goes into a lot of details re: colors and dyes in his "Early Irish Farming" -- if you're looking to get into the world of day to day life in Ireland, there isn't a better source.

#brehon law #sumptuary law

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psi0nics · 6 months

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Spider-Gwen is Very Likely Trans in Across the Spider-Verse, says One More Person

But this shit matters.

I've rewatched Across the Spider-Verse for probably the eighth time recently, and it continues to be blaringly obvious to me that Gwen is most likely a trans girl. I'm most certainly not the only one to have pointed this out, and I don't really think I'm adding anything new. But we need as many voices to speak up, I feel, and I might as well share what I think of it. Now, this little essay is going to focus mainly from the movie's material alone since I'm not much of a comic reader, and it'll be limited to my own experience as a Filipino trans girl who really wants to express some thoughts.

Spoilers ahead!

Across the Spider-Verse explores the journey of Miles Morales after the first film, Into the Spider-Verse, where he rises up to the mantle of Spider-Man. Now, we follow him as he fights to be recognized as Spider-Man by the rest of Spider-Society, who reject him for factors out of his control—and yet he made the best of them, took pride in them, and rose up to become Spider-Man in all the ways that matter. Unfortunately, the exact circumstances, Spider-Society doesn't like—represented by Miguel O'Hara. From all that I've heard and read, a lot of Miles's story strongly being a very Black story, drawing from Miles being Afro-Latino, and though the story itself never shows racism nor do the different universes explicitly show systemic discrimination and whatnot, his story still clearly draws from that. Miguel O'Hara isn't some racist white dude excluding Miles because he's Afro-Latino, Miguel is an Irish-Mexican man and the entire theme of the Spider-Society is that it is extremely diverse and open. But that doesn't mean that the institution that it represents in the context of literally everything Rio Morales, Miles's Mother, tells him. To remember where he's from, to not let those big institutions tell Miles that he doesn't belong there, and all these things that are brimming with subtext.

The subtext is there, and it's all intentional.

Then there's Gwen Stacy. Who, for her entire arc of the film, hinges on a relationship setup from the beginning—her father, George Stacy. Now, for a lot of trans people, including me, we found it striking that that arc felt pretty queer-coded. Now, by itself, there's nothing much to be gleaned, just Gwen struggling with the fact that she's forced to reveal her superhero identity to her dad in a tense moment, ripping them apart, and later reconciling. Now, I'm quite young for a queer person, but I'm aware of the history of all these subtle things or narratives about identity being all that queer people had in the mainstream for a very, very long time.

But these days, we celebrate every win, for every explicitly queer character, for every confirmation from creators where they couldn't explicitly show anything in the material (except for Rowling bullshit, fuck that fake shit), and every hold that we're constantly fighting for. I know I'm speaking for a lot of people when I say we are so happy to see so many gay and bi characters see the mainstream's spotlights, be left unquestioned, that I, someone on the other side of the world, am left in positive awe whenever I see some middle-aged white dudes casually say, "My daughter's girlfriend." But of course, it's always a fight. We can't be complacent, because for every win, people will always try to tear it down, and I know I just happen to be in pretty inclusive online communities to see what I see in the west. There, people queer sexualities still fight. Here, people still fight. Queer identities will never stop fighting.

All this to say, what of Gwen? Well, one of the moments that made me think about her this way was when I was putting the little hints together. Because her arc does not stand in isolation. Her arc is literally colored by transness. From the big trans flag above her door, the trans colors that literally paint her and her world, the reflections that show her other identity, her reconciliation with her father hitting us with "They can only know half of who I am," the acceptance, and even the tiniest bit of Mary Jane's voice over talking about raising a child that's different than everyone else and learning to learn as a parent, and all these details. Hell, she even hangs out with Hobie Brown, whose entire thing is anarchism, the rejection of what society has considered the norm for bullshit reasons, to hang out with a radical leftist—and as one of those, there's not any other group (or at least from my experience) quite as intersectional with solidarity with marginalized groups as radlefts. To those who say, "Maybe she's just an ally," I challenge you: why would the film stop there?

Why does the film that goes out of its way to casually show more people of color as normal, to show people with disabilities playing basketball, to show an entire arc about Miles striving to fight the institutions that want to keep him down, to drive with progress, to drive the narrative that anyone can be behind the mask, why would it stop at making Gwen Stacy a trans girl?

And very similar to Miles, of course there's no one explicitly transphobic nor are any groups shown to be that. It's a more personal story, and is more subtle about it. And it's crazy how much this reminds of when I grew up watching The Legend of Korra, when Korra and Asami's relationship was only some endgame thing and hinted at with a "vacation." Gay people didn't have that much there. Not much in other places in the mainstream either. They started making their own, of course. Through fan-fiction, through art, making their own stories. But fortunately (I say with as much dripping sarcasm as I can) capitalism now sees it as a big enough market for billionaires to profit off of. (Which is, in a very dystopian way, a win.) And now, it's eerily familiar to see trans people get the same treatment now, stuck in a limbo of infrequent and rare representation in the mainstream if we aren't clawing for every inch.

So, while Miguel O'Hara isn't a racist authoritarian, George Stacy isn't a transphobe—not when he goes out of his way to wear trans flags (and no, it's not a trick of the light; nothing is a trick of the light, it's all intentional in animation). But the conflicts they represent aren't any less meaningful in the subtext. And that means a lot for people who are fighting tooth and nail to be recognized.

And all of this, too, is representative of one of the first and second film's main themes. It's not that it doesn't matter who's behind the mask, it's that it can be anyone behind the mask, carrying with them all the richness of their experiences, bringing forth a Spider-Person unlike any other. And in the second film, to defy the patterns and labels set by the institutions that govern our lives, doing things like using fear and preserving an order for some grand picture.

So, I'm pretty sure Gwen Stacy is trans. What does it add to the story? Nothing. Being cis never added much to the story.

But for someone like me, it's doing a lot. It gives me hope.

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irish-dress-history · 11 months

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16th c. Costume Books, a Problematic Source for Dress History

But did they really dress like this?

Costume books and costume albums are a popular source for dress historians, historical costumers, and reenactors researching 16th and early 17th c. Europe. There are good reasons for this. They are primary source documents (at least sometimes), and they show the clothing of cultures and social groups that are difficult-to-impossible to find in other types of period art, like the Irish and rural peasants. Examples of these books include Trachtenbuch des Christoph Weiditz, Habiti antichi et moderni di tutto il Mondo di Cesare Vecellio, and Théâtre de tous les peuples et nations de la terre avec leurs habits et ornemens divers. These books are, however, deeply problematic as a dress history source for several reasons. In this post, I will discuss the ways they are problematic and how those of us researching historical dress can gain a better understanding of what the people shown in these books were actually wearing. I have broken down the problems with using these images into 4 areas.

Embodied biases:

The creators of these books were, at least sometimes, prejudiced against the cultures they were portraying, and these biases may have affected how they characterized these cultures. Hans Weigel, author of Habitus praecipuorum populorum, characterized his native German fashion as modest and virtuous and characterized elaborate Italian fashions as decadent and corrupt. Weigel considered these 'strange' foreign fashions a threat to the 'civilized' German fashion he favored (Bond 2018). This bias might have motivated Weigel to idealize his portrayal of German fashion or to exaggerate the strangeness of Italian fashion in order to scare his readers away from trying it.

Weigel's dislike of flashy foreign fashions seems mild in comparison to the bigotry of some of his peers. Flemish artist Lucas de Heere and French artist François Desprez both labeled the Scottish 'savages' in their books. Jost Amman's description of a purported Turkish sex worker in the German edition of Gynaeceum, sive Theatrum mulierum, is appallingly bigoted:

"A Turkish Wh*re: This is a prostitute, who sells her impure body for dirty money to a lover that pleases her. With the earnings of this sin she dresses herself prettily and beautifully, in order to attract the Turks even more easily with her false ornaments." (translation from Ilg 2004)

Considering the blatant bigotry he shows here, I wouldn't anything about trust Amman's depictions of sex workers, Turks, or any other non-Western Europeans. Or any other women, really.

Sights unseen:

Even when costume book creators weren't actively trying to perpetuate their biases through their work, their ignorance could still cause problems. These artists did not always visit the countries whose costumes they painted. They relied on other artists' work or even just verbal descriptions to fill in the gaps in their knowledge. The resulting images can distort the cut, construction, and material of the clothing.

For example, the Turkish women in this original woodcut by Pieter Coecke van Aelst are wearing shawls or scarves with long fringe wrapped around their heads and shoulders. In the Christoph von Sternsee costume album's illustration based off Coecke van Aelst's print, the fringed shawl has become a strange, tailored hood with a panel of pleated cloth attached to either it or the gown below.

(Coecke van Aelst's woodcuts were identified as the source for the von Sternsee album's illustration in Katherine Bond's 2018 dissertation.)

Copy of a copy of what?

In spite of the problems it causes, copying from other artists' work was common in costume albums (Bond 2018). Considering that the artists did not visit all the cultures they illustrated, this is unsurprising. Some images were copied repeatedly, and the artist misunderstanding the source material wasn't the only source of distortion. Artists also made up details to compensate for bare-bones source material.

This simple line black-and-white print of an Irish woman wearing a léine (linen tunic), brat (Irish mantle), and headwear was used by several artists, all of whom made changes and additions. The first copy in this post is the most faithful to the original, but it still adds long sleeves and eyelet holes on the neckline to the léine. The coloring of the headwear suggests a wool hat crested with a tuft of horsehair and having a linen roll at the bottom. The coloring also gives the brat a contrasting lining.

The second knockoff is the most famous. It comes from Lucas De Heere's illustration which purportedly shows Irish people in service to King Henry VIII. This is some thing De Heere couldn't have actually seen, as he moved to England 20 years after Henry VIII died and never went to Ireland at all. De Heere took the most liberties with his version. His Irish woman appears to be topless under her brat. The bottom of her léine has much less volume than the original, and De Heere has added an apron. For the hat, De Heere has replaced the crest with triangles of green wool.

Unlike De Heere's version, the final version is mostly loyal to the cut shown in the original, but it makes some unlikely suggestions for the materials. The léine appears to be green silk brocade. The brat also appears to be silk. Accounts from people who actually went to Ireland in the 16th and early 17th centuries state that these garments were made of linen and wool, respectively. Both the hat and its crest are now completely made of linen.

Chronological distortion:

The heavy use of copying in costume books also has the potential to mislead us in terms of when these fashions were worn, because the original images may be significantly older than publication year of the books that copy them. For example, the dress of Livonian women shown in Hans Weigel's 1577 book was almost certainly copied from Albrecht Dürer's 1521 watercolors. Weigel used references that were more than half a century old, but described them as if they were contemporary fashion in 1577.

Even when costume book images are accurate portrayals of their source material, many of them lack the detail needed to identify seams, fabric types, or garment understructures. How do we deal with these problems when attempting to reconstruct what the people shown in these books actually wore?

What do we do about it?

I am not saying that we should discard these things completely as sources. Dress historians as respected as Patterns of Fashion author Janet Arnold and The Tudor Tailor authors Jane Malcolm and Ninya Mikhaila have used costume book illustrations. I definitely know less about 16th c. dress history than Jane and Ninya. I am just saying we shouldn't use them uncritically.

First, do some research on the costume book you're looking at. When was it created? Do the illustrations look suspiciously similar to those in other books? (Google image search and pinterest can be helpful for identifying this.) Did the creator, like Hans Weigel, have a particular bias they were advancing? Did they actually visit the cultures they portrayed? Christoph Weiditz actually traveled quite a bit, but he did not visit the British Isles, so his Irish and English women are probably based on someone else's art (Bond 2018). A lot of the scholarly publications about costume books are frustratingly paywalled, but some of them can be accessed for free via researchgate or academia.edu.

Avoid using copies when possible, even if the copies are more realistic-looking or more detailed art. As I discussed in the examples above, artists change things when they copy. Publication dates of copies can also be misleading in terms of dating clothing styles.

Find other sources such as: written descriptions from the time period, extant historical garments, more detailed art depicting similar fashions in related cultures, and art made by people from the culture you are studying. Period written descriptions can yield information about materials used, colors, and other details. Extant garments are your best source for information on cut and construction (unless you are lucky enough to have an extant tailor's manual from your period and culture). Detailed art depicting similar fashions can offer suggestions to fill in for missing information on construction, materials, and embellishments. Art created by the culture is valuable for identifying inaccuracies created by bigoted or ignorant artists.

Finally, remember that it's okay to not know everything. There are gaps in our knowledge about what people wore 500 years ago that will probably never be filled without a time machine. Sometimes you just have to make a plausible guess and move on. Don't let yourself get so paralyzed by doing research that you never complete the garment reconstruction/art/tumblr post you were doing the research for.

Bibliography:

Bond, K. L. (2018). Costume Albums in Charles V’s Habsburg Empire (1528-1549). https://doi.org/10.17863/CAM.25054

Dunlevy, Mairead (1989). Dress in Ireland. B. T. Batsford LTD, London.

Ilg, Ulrike. (2004). The Cultural Significance of Costume Books Sixteenth-Century Europe. In Catherine Richardson (ed.), Clothing Culture, 1350-1650 (p. 29-47). Ashgate.

McClintock, H. F. (1943). Old Irish and Highland Dress. Dundalgan Press, Dundalk.

McClintock, H. F. (1953). Some Hitherto Unpublished Pictures of Sixteenth Century Irish People, and the Costumes Appearing in Them. The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, 83(2), 150-155. https://www.jstor.org/stable/25510871

Costume Books mentioned:

Amman, Jost. Gynaeceum, sive Theatrum mulierum.

The Costume Album of Christoph von Sternsee. not available on-line. Katherine Bond's research is your best source for this one.

Desprez, François. Recueil de la diversité des habits.

De Heere, Lucas. Corte Beschryvinghe van Engheland, Schotland, ende Irland.

Théâtre de tous les peuples et nations de la terre avec leurs habits et ornemens divers, tant anciens que modernes, diligemment depeints au naturel par Luc Dheere peintre et sculpteur Gantois.

Vecellio, Cesare, and Gratilianus, Sulstatius. Habiti antichi et moderni di tutto il Mondo di Cesare Vecellio.

Trachtenbuch des Christoph Weiditz

Weigel, Hans, and Amman, Jost. Habitus praecipuorum populorum, tam virorum quam foeminarum singulari arte depicti.

Kostüme der Männer und Frauen in Augsburg und Nürnberg, Deutschland, Europa, Orient und Afrika

Kostüme und Sittenbilder des 16. Jahrhunderts aus West- und Osteuropa, Orient, der Neuen Welt und Afrika

costume prints by an unknown artist, in the Bibliothèque nationale de France, Cabinet des Estampes. I cannot find this one online. image taken from McClintock 1953.

#dress history #historical fashion #art #16th century #17th century #historical costuming #historical dress #cw whorephobia #cw racism #irish dress #leine #irish mantle #reenactment #costume album

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flimflamfandom · 9 months

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The New Apartment

Calvin hung the last of the pictures in his home - Despite how upset he was with Nina, he had to admit, he still loved her, and having the picture there was nice.

He looked over his new apartment - one of Bapka's - a nice enough place, if small, with a modern kitchen, the convenience of being ground level, and-

and a knock on the door.

"So!" Ivy, in that new day dress she'd bought, and an almost (but not quite) garish display of pearls, leaned in. "This is the new place, huh?"

"Aye." Calvin smiled, and held her hand. "Come in."

Ivy looked around. The kitchen was...clearly where the attention had gone. Some pictures were hung in bizarre places, no doubt to hide stains - the wallpapers were fine, but old, and the floor was hardwood but scratched and scraped in spots. Calvin hadn't had trouble with the furniture, and he even had a cute little space for his typewriter next to a window looking out on the street. It was gorgeous!

It was perplexing.

"LOVELY spot you got here, Freck!" She looked around. "Why, if it wasn't so scandalous I'd just about move in here with you! Kiss that lousy housing fee goodbye and all that." She winked, sitting at his typewriter. "How's the novel coming along?"

"...it's...coming along."

"I see..." Ivy said, knowingly. She stood. "Calvin, dearie, this place is nice, but...why'd you go and start renting?"

"Well, I...I had a lot of money burning a hole in my pocket and I figured I'd-"

"You didn't think to sp[end it on little ol' me?" Ivy teased, and batted her eyes, "why, I'm insulted!"

"Who says this isn't for you?" Calvin winked, and moved some hair from her face.

Ivy laughed. "Freckle, as much as I love you I know for a fact you wouldn't go to all THIS trouble for me without saying anything." She sat on his couch. "Come now, what is it?"

"Well...ehm..."

Ivy's expression softened, and her smile turned sour. "What's the matter at home, Calvin? You never wanted to move out before now...what changed?"

"Nina and I had a...a fight."

"A fight? How bad?"

"...she called you a-..." He hesitated. "A not very good word in Irish."

"Really, now?" Ivy crossed her arms. "And what might that be?"

"A Fraochún."

Ivy tried to remember what little of the language she knew - she was awful at learning knew languages. She furrowed a brow. "...a wildberry?"

"A whore. She called you a whore." Calvin said, sounding like he was still angry about the whole affair. He leaned on the wall, not looking Ivy in the eye as he spoke.

"A what?" Ivy stood. "She called me a wh-"

"It wasn't just that." Calvin said. "I started it, I...she's mad about work and the novel and..." He crossed his arms, and hesitated.

"She said she wished she'd never let me come back from Cork after school."

"...Oh, Calvin." Ivy walked over to him, and held him, tight. "I'm so sorry...that can be hard to hear from your own mother." She said. She rubbed his side, and looked up. "I wish she'd never said that."

"I do, too." He said. He looked over at a picture on the wall - the last one he'd hung up, over the mantle. "See her? On the left?"

"Yeah."

"That's her. That's Nina." He said.

"I should've guessed with that mean scowl." Ivy said. "If you're so mad at her why do you have a picture of her hanging up?"

"...she used to sing me to sleep." Calvin said. "She made cake for my birthday." He looked down, and then at Ivy. "I shouldn't like her. And I don't, not after that. But...I can't just leave her out of things. She shaped me, for...better or worse." Calvin walked towards the kitchen. "If you'd rather I take it down, I-"

"It's your apartment, Calvin." She said, walking up and hugging him from behind, "and she's your mother. So don't go changing anything just for little ol' me, okay?"

"...okay."

"Now, how do you say that one thing again? My heart is in you? It's, eh...taw muh...tawmuhkree..."

"Tá mo chroí istigh ionat?"

"Likewise." She nestled in. "I love you..."

"I love you too..."

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #flimflamuniverse #calvin mcmurray #ivy pepper #frepper

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pinayelf · 1 year

Note

Ellie you always have the most correct opinions on Cullen what are your favorite Cullen hcs

okay this has been sitting in my inbox bc I kept forgetting but I'm gonna do it now ☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽

he does the curly girl method on his hair!!! that's what they mean when they say he spends time styling it I stand by thIS

he doesn't get cold easily dndnd it's his fereldan genes so while josie is shivering next to him he's like "idk it's not that cold"

speaking of the above he's a gentleman and will offer his mantle to anyone who's cold

he makes an amazing shepherd's pie

he's Irish actually (and sounds like hozier 💃🏽)

he sort of knew how to play the lute at the beginning of DAI but then gets into it to help his recovery and he finds it relaxing

he can SING!!! but he's shy about it cause he only ever did it in the chantry choir

he's an early riser and a morning person lol, once he starts getting enough sleep people can see him jogging around skyhold at the crack of maferath's ass

I GENUINELY THINK he has a sweet tooth

him and alistair DID know each other at Templar training and they did not get along. almost 20 years later they don't know what the beef is about anymore but they still have that tween rivalry they had lmfaoo

cullen doesn't like spending money on frivolous things but he probably would spend money on his LI

he is warm and soft and I like him ❤️

#cullen rutherford #i love him ur honor

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space-mermaid-writing · 1 year

Text

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 17

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: Family bonding time! We get to know your brother and meet someone we didn’t expect. Beta by @zaria-04

Happy Chr’ms! It’s Chrismin! Merry Crisis and Merry Chrysler!

Chapter 17: A gathering of witches

A lunar convergence is a rare and festive event and you dress accordingly. There are several layers: a pretty linen dress, one of your favorite, hugging all the right spots of your body. Over it there is a bodice, something that unfortunately is not in fashion right now, if you would step out on the street with it. At the same time, it makes a really good figure. Last but not least, you put a fur overcoat around your shoulders, because the night will get cold.

Your outfit represents who you are, your status as a witch. You put on several rings, all filled with magic. Today you don't plan to use them, just wear them because you like them. In your hair you have coiffed a single feather of a kite. It is the symbol of your family. Traditionally, everyone wears a badge that indicates their bloodline.

You take a look in your mirror and are pleased with what you see.

It is time to leave. You step through the portal door and arrive at your sister's house in the hallway. You hear her and your brother's voices in the living room and you enter.

"You've never been on time before, Gabe," you grin broadly to the young-looking man, who looks up and chuckles at your words.

"Times change."

You hug them both in greeting. You haven't seen your brother in ages.

He is tall and slender, almost lanky, and has orange hair. His father was Irish and you can see Gabriel's ancestry.

Appropriately, and for today's occasion, he wears a kilt and matching high socks. His shirt reveals his chest, over which hang several necklaces with feathers, wooden beads and bones. The left sleeve of his shirt is sewn shut just below the shoulder due to a missing arm. His hair was shoulder length the last time you saw him, but now it is cut. A little longer on top, a little shorter on the sides, and coiffed in a modern style.

Gabriel is the youngest out of the three of you, born in the first half of the 19th century, just before there was a great famine in Ireland that nearly halved the country's population.

There's a bigger gap in age between you and your sister. Maybe that's why she likes to take on the caring role of big sister so much.

"I heard you moved to another continent," he says, turning to you.

"Just professionally," you relent.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about that profession," he grins at you.

You roll your eyes. News travels fast between you siblings. Elizabeth, in particular, likes to take it upon herself to keep you all up. She's wearing a similar outfit to yours, but traditionally high-necked while your dress is lower-cut, and instead of a fur, she's reaching for an embroidered mantle.

"That reminds me, I have something for you," Gabriel says, reaching into his pocket from which he pulls a small vial that he hands to you. It seems filled with water and something shimmery in it as you hold it up to the light.

"What's this?"

"A mermaid scale."

"No way!" you exclaim. "How did you get that?!"

The brother grins self-righteously. "I helped some of them escape and got gifts in return," he explains. You just shake your head at that. He always has adventurous stories to tell.

"Did you get a kiss? Nah, you wouldn't tell me anyway. But thanks for the scale." You smile beamingly at him and stow the vial in your pocket. Components of mermaids were really hard to get because they are shy and also stubborn creatures. And as pretty as they are, they are equally dangerous.

"Shall we?" asks Elizabeth and you nod, following her to her workroom. On the way, your brother leans toward you.

"Unfortunately, I did not," he whispers to you. "Maybe next time."

You chuckle as he winks at you.

A ritual circle is painted on the floor in Elizabeth's study and you step in it. The three of you join hands and after exchanging one last glance, you all begin to recite the same spell.

Under your words, the circle begins to glow. A breeze comes up, the smell of freshly cut grass is in the air. For a moment your vision is obscured by mist, then it clears and you are suddenly standing in nature.

It is a wide field at the foot of a hill. A well-trodden path leads up. People keep appearing around you, alone or in small groups. They are all magically gifted, most of them some kind of witches, but not exclusively. Only some are from Earth, many from other realms.

You start walking uphill.

The higher you get, the more plants grow around you until they condense into a small forest. You come to an open gate that almost looks like a circular piece of wall. Over time, moss and fern have settled on it, giving it something fairy-like. Like a gate to another world.

Behind it, the path changes to wide, stone steps that lead you further up the forest until it suddenly ends and you reach a large meadow. It is the top of the mountain, a sacred place.

Some larger rocks stick out of the grass. In the center of the place, five roughly hewed obelisks stand in a circle and the ground there is not grass but rough stone.

You are familiar with this place. The convergence happens once every one hundred years and it is already your third festival.

Your siblings and you make a circuit of the meadow, nodding every now and then to greet familiar faces.

Finally, you find what you are looking for: your mother, standing with some women and talking.

You walk toward her, and although she has her back to you, she turns to face you and comes a little toward you.

"Hello, children," she greets you kindly, but not warmly. She grabs each of you in turn by the hands and kisses you on the cheek. First Elizabeth, then you, then Gabriel.

It's the first time you've seen her in years - mostly she stays out of your lifes - and you notice she looks older. The small wrinkles around her mouth and eyes are evidence of that, and it's getting harder to guess her former hair color under the gray. For a witch to have such signs of aging, she must have reached a significant age - or gotten involved with the wrong spells.

"I'm glad you're all here. It's going to be a lovely evening."

If she says that, it must be true, because she's a seer. That's one of the reasons you don't talk to her much. There's not much to tell her that she doesn't know anyway. For today, though, her words are a good prediction.

"I'll see you later," Gabriel says. "I have a date."

That's the cue for you to split up. Before you can leave, too, though, your mother stops you. "Ah, before I forget, there's someone I want you to meet."

"Sure," you say, a little surprised, and follow her to the women you were standing with earlier. She waves to one of them, who then joins you.

You've never seen her before. She looks friendly with a certain warmth. She wears a flower crown on her upswept blonde hair, and her elegant dress is an indicator that she must be a person of respect. Her gaze moves from your mother to you and she eyes you curiously, almost scrutinizing. Then she smiles. "Now I understand why you suggested inviting my son," she says to your mother, then turns back to you, "Come, child, let's take a walk."

With each of her words, you become more and more confused and merely nod. You're used to your mother speaking in riddles and this woman here seems to be expressing herself similarly. You're curious to hear what she has to say.

"I've heard a lot about you," she begins.

"I wasn't aware that my mother talked much about her children," you admit, but the woman shakes her head.

"It wasn't her, but my son who told me about you."

Astonished, you look at her. "I don't think I understand. Who is your son?"

"I should introduce myself first," she realizes. "I am Frigga, mother of Loki and Thor."

You stop as if rooted to the spot and your eyes widen in surprise. Your first thought is that the Queen of Asgard is standing before you. With your second thought, you wonder why your mother knows her. You blink as you realize you are staring at her and quickly avert your gaze so as not to be rude. "Forgive me, I did not expect to meet you here, your Majesty."

She seems amused by your behavior, but nods in satisfaction at the courtesy. "Call me Frigga, child. We are not in the palace and I am not here as queen." She starts moving again and you follow her. "You probably don't realize it, but Loki and I have kept correspondence ever since he went to Midgard. My younger son prefers to keep to himself, but he mentioned a Witchling he met. And from what I've heard from other places as well, you seem to be very supportive of him."

You smile at the mention of Loki's nickname for you. You really weren't aware that he was writing to his mother and it touches your heart that he told her about you. "I'm merely a friend," you say.

"That's the best thing he can ask for," the queen replies. There is a short pause in which you process what you have just heard and she looks at you from the side. Then she addresses her next question carefully to you. "Did you two fight?"

Questioning how she knows about that, you turn your head to her.

"When I finally saw him again and talked to him, I was surprised to find him in a bad mood. I thought he was doing well and that his time on Midgard had done him good. But he seems almost heartbroken. He doesn't talk about it and I wonder if you know anything about it."

You sigh as you remember your argument with Loki and nod a little ashamedly. You should have talked to him before you left.

"This is my fault," you tell her, "I made… Well, it's not exactly a mistake. I had some things to sort out and I took too long for it. Loki heard words out of their context. I guess it's a big misunderstanding."

Frigga nods in understanding. "My son has a brilliant mind, but sometimes he acts and judges hastily."

"I am sorry to have caused you concern. I will talk to him as soon as I get back and explain everything to him."

"Why wait so long?" Frigga asks, standing still. You stop as well, puzzled by her words. Does she expect you to return to New York immediately? Well, you can't contradict a queen. But you notice that she's not looking at you, and as you follow her gaze, you spot Loki sitting under a tree in the distance.

It seems like today is full of surprises.

"I'll let you two to it. You seem to have a lot to talk about."

You watch her turn around and leave. Then you look back at the prince. You hesitate, not knowing what to do while being so suddenly confronted with the consequences of your behavior. But Loki has already spotted you and his mother and stands up.

Slowly you approach him.

His expression is unreadable, but you are sure that inside him is the same chaos of emotions as in you.

Like his mother, he wears fine Asgardian clothing that looks distinguished and noble. No armor, it seems more appropriate for a ball or similar event. His hair is neatly coiffed back, some strands even braided. He wears a similar flower crown as his mother on his head. You wonder if it is the sign of their family. It seems almost too plain for a royal family. You also wonder if he made it himself.

"What are you doing here on Vanaheim, Witchling?" he asks you. His tone is neutral, almost bored. But he can't fool you.

"The same as you obviously. Listen, I wanted to apologize about our fight." You mean your words sincerely, and you hope he senses that. "I didn't seduce you for the job, to make you hand-tame and keep you under control. Tony doesn't know what he's talking about, you have to believe me."

Loki's expression remains unmoved and he crosses his arms. "You said it was a mistake."

You're confused for a moment and have to think about your conversation, but then you remember how you stormed out of his suite. "Oh shit, I did!" it escapes you, "No, let me explain. I didn't mean the thing with..." You gesture between you, not knowing how to name it. "I meant the fact that I got paid to work with you. I don't want you to think that I manipulated you. That money is the only reason I'm standing by your side."

"It's not?" asks Loki.

You nod. "I quit."

"Is that why you didn't show up yesterday?" Loki's voice changes to an angry hiss. "You disappeared without another word?"

Horrified, you stare at him. "What, no! Oh boy, we have so much we need to talk about." You take a deep breath to get your thoughts in order. "First of all, I took a few days off because of my work at the Cottage and the Lunar Convergence. I wanted to tell you, but then we were already arguing. Theoretically, you could have heard it when I was talking to Tony, because obviously you overheard that conversation." You look at him, but he doesn't look as if he's embarrassed by that accusation. Rather like he's waiting for the rest of your explanation. "I quit, but I want to continue my work with you. Only without being paid. Just as a friend. Shall we sit down somewhere, perhaps?" you suggest, but Loki does not respond to that question. At least your words seem to calm him down a bit.

"I don't understand," he says, turning away, looking at the forest. "Don't you Midgardians need a job and money in order to survive?"

"I'm not your average Midgardian," you remind him, trying to keep your patience with him. "I'm a witch and I've survived for almost three hundred years, so I think I will manage."

Loki tilts his head, closing his eyes. "So, you are staying as a friend?" he asks again, emphasizing the last word comically.

"Yes, Loki, a friend," you nod. "Don't you have this concept on Asgard?"

"We do."

"Excellent. Then you know how it works."

Loki turns his head back to you, hesitating briefly with what he says next. "What if I don't want to be friends with you?"

Your face falls and your shoulders slump. "I… would understand it. Friendship needs trust. But it would make me sad." Somehow you're not already giving up on him just yet. He has a hard time opening up to people, and pulls back much faster. But your time together must mean something. Now it's you looking longingly toward the forest. There's something reassuring about the old trees. "I like you, Loki."

The Asgardian steps closer to you, puts his fingers on your cheek and turns your head to look at him. "I thought we were already more than friends," he murmurs. "Unless it was just a game for you after all."

You give a soft ’oh’ as you understand. "We can be… friends and more. Why not both?" You are mumbling, almost rambling. Fortunately, Loki interrupts you with a kiss. It's only brief, but it's enough to make you fall silent.

"I'd like that," he murmurs, kissing you again, more desperately this time. As if he's afraid you're about to disappear after all.

"Great, me too." This time it's you who briefly interrupts the kiss, but your lips are immediately back on his. You are smiling.

So are the two women standing on the other side of the field, watching you from afar. Satisfied with the outcome of the night, your mothers exchange a look.

___________________________

Mothers™, playing matchmakers since anno thirteen-hundred-two-teen.

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