#hjemve

The Copenhagen AU has gotten a title: Hjemvé — homesick hearts

This is a poem I’ve partially translated. The original is called ‘Hjemvee‘ by Adam Oehlenschläger, published in 1805. I’ve used parts of the translations by Holger Scheibel and Roger W. Smith. This poem means a lot to me as a Dane living abroad. I feel that homesickness.

I am so excited to share that the first chapter of Hjemvé will be posted on September 4th, with new updates coming every Thursday.

I cannot wait to share this story - and Copenhagen - with you ❤️

Five years ago, Chloe Decker moved to Copenhagen, Denmark with her husband and daughter, excited to start a new life in the Scandinavian capital. Now, she’s recently divorced, a single mom to seven-year- old Trixie, and thoroughly, exhaustingly bored.

@hjemve

“what the fuck are you saying?” and nadine doesn’t even know if there’s any actual threat, but they’ll whisper anyways. what the fuck does not being able to withstand mean? eyes are wide, and their hair is all over the place. they only remember to swipe it from their face, because they want to get a good look around.

@hjemve

there is a loud "BOOOOOO" that comes from them at this. nadine hadn't really agreed to whatever this little trip was, and they would’ve tried to get out of it sooner if they knew it required so much walking. gross! nadine didn’t have a license, but they definitely would’ve lied about it, to get them wherever.

@hjemve | lost the meme :')

“ you know what i like to hear? nothing. that’s right. nada. complete fucking silence. get it? ” ((LMFAO TFW THE VAGRANT FINALLY GENUINELY SNAPS AT HER,, BUT IN HIS SLOW WEIRD ASS RELAXED WAY?..... he just *seethes calmly, does not raise his voice ever* ))

Gods, Damaris could never have dreamed how satisfying it was to finally get under V’s skin, and it took every ounce of free will to not absolutely rupture into laughter. It was just far too funny, knowing that after all this time she had annoyed him enough to actually snap at her, in his own frigid way. And you know what? She’d grant the silence he craved oh so much, he deserved it for weathering her for so long.

The witch remained tight-lipped for a good while, though her restlessness was evident in the near constant swaying as an outlet for the stifled energy building in her core… but of course peace never lasts long.

Max can count on one hand the number of times people have actually heeded her warnings and still have fingers to spare. So when she's suddenly jerked along with the man, forced to all but break into a sprint to keep up with him, she lets out a breathless squeak in surprise, not having expected him to actually listen. Luckily for the both of them he did, as mere moments after they flee the area several men flood it, shouting, searching. They spread out, stomping through the underbrush, weapons at the ready.

She risks a glance back over her shoulder as she and the man disappear deeper into the trees, praying they won't be seen. She refuses to be caught, can't be if she has any desire to keep living freely. Hell, living at all. Foresight is a curse on the best of days and knowing what will happen if she is apprehended?

Well, that's something she just doesn't want to think on.