#i love being a londoner because i can make dumb posts like these all the time

[jamieswoodenspoon]

me in golders green: wow this is so sophideon family in tlh core

[icantthinkyandere]

Hello! Can I request some Yandere Jeanne D'arc Alter and Okita Souji x Master! Reader, who is really a apathic person, where the Master is receiving a lot of attetion and being persuade by other servants who have romantinc interest on them, like how they would deal with the jealosy and the all the situation?

I was thinking recently about making an AO3 account for my stuff, mainly just to archive it if I'm dumb and do something to the blog. But also now because I saw one post about tumblr dying. So, I'm probably going to do that.

Okita has quickly become one of my favorites to write.

{Jeanne D'Arc Alter}

At the start of her stay at Chaldea, she's in hate with the master. Everything about them is annoying and awful to her—especially their apathetic personality.

She could not understand why anyone was actively trying to get into a relationship with them. They are so overwhelmingly unpleasant, and that's why everyone should stay away from them so she can bully them for their awful attitude.

By complete accident, she bullies anyone who even shows a passing like to the master in front of her to death. She states that it's pointless not just because you're talking at a wall but because they're servants. This won't last; it'll end in heartbreak.

Don't try to thank her for stopping any unwanted advances. She'll just insult you for not rejecting them hard enough!

Playing nice is getting them nowhere. They just keep coming, and you have to put your foot down. This is why she will never respect them.

Unlucky for her, when London comes around and Tamamo joins Chaldea, Jalter meets someone just as sassy and confrontational as her.

Now, every insult she throws is reflected at her. Now she's called jealous, insecure, bitter, and she wishes she could find love but can't because of her ugly attitude.

Which isn't true because she's just being realistic about their situation and how undesirable the master is. So, she starts pulling back because she's annoying to argue with, not because she's right or anything.

Once she pulls away and is "forced" to watch Tamamo and now many others who have taken the opportunity to try again without her to bully them.

It stirs something inside her. She chooses to believe it's disgust, but the feeling only starts when someone is getting or shouting their affection for the master. She'll think it's from her and the master both not being interested in romance before she believes it could be a crush.

Jeanne (Ruler) points it out much more kindly than Tamamo's mocking way. Even with a much more serious and nicer sit down to talk about it. She'll only slightly accept it more.

She's so used to being mean and hating everyone that it's weird for her to consider she likes someone so much it makes her want to keep them from everyone else.

She'll keep being mean and a tsundere, but with more and more servants joining Chaldea, she'll explain away her behavior with some poor excuse.

There's a good chance she'll never express her feelings and be her usual self in game. But everyone and the master will believe she has a soft spot for them and only them.

After she finally calms down, much like with Okita, you just get scary dog privileges. She won't keep more aggressively romantic servants forever, but it's much easier to believe she's just bad at being friends than having romantic feelings.

Over time, she'll be able to become your closest friend if you don't look too deeply into her awkward behavior. Just seeing the small kind things she does, along with her being protective on a mission, as her way of making friends.

{Okita Souji}

I would say it depends on the servant who's flirting with the master. But since the most romantic are Tamamo and Kiyohime, along with being the first servants to show romantic interest, she sees them in every other servant with a crush. No matter who they are.

She's not a jealous person, or she believes she isn't. She's not jealous that others realize how excellent the master is. She's just protective of them. She just wants their safety and happiness.

Because of those two, she 100% believes no one cares about the master. At least not like she does.

Unlike the other servants, Okita's love isn't seen as romantic or even close to her courting anyone. She looks like an overly loyal servant, which no one is surprised about. She's one of the Shinsengumi in a dire situation; of course she'll want to be close to the master. No one realizes she feels more than just master-servant loyalty.

Because of the selfish and cruel actions of Tamamo and Kiyohime, every servant who isn't in Okita's personal circle of friends is ruined. They are not kind people and only want to use her master to live out their marriage fantasies. The master deserves to live a happy life doing what they want and having to walk on glass to make sure their ideal is not broken.

If she were the master's wife, she would be more than happy to live the life they wanted. Whether that's her staying home as their housewife or allowing them to stay home and making her the breadwinner.

But that's not what this is about. Love rivals second, enemies who want to take away the master's free will and life first.

She goes to the master first, of course; she must make sure she does what they want first, unlike some servants. She is very much taken aback at being told that it's okay and she shouldn't bother.

Begrudgingly, she agrees not to harm them, but she will closely monitor them. Since they're not the most peaceful servants. She understands they're apathetic about people being interested. It's not like they're encouraging being chased after. They're doing the opposite.

But things get worse; they keep getting bolder, and more servants seek to take advantage of the master under the guise of being in love. Yes, the master is great and loveable. But they are uninterested, so stop bothering them.

Most servants back off because she explains why the master isn't interested in them when, in reality, they're primarily threats, or they become uninterested.

Tamamo or Nero are servants who don't take her seriously, so they don't stop and are the first to find out that her feelings are more than servant loyalty—accusing her of also having feelings for the master, wanting them for herself, and being a hypocrite.

In her frustration, she admits that she is, but she doesn't care. She's putting them first, not her. She knows she'll be rejected and might not ever have a chance. She's happy enough to be allowed to be by their side in the first place. And if they don't start knowing the same, she might take action into her own hands if they ignore the master's options.

[inchidentally]

x. com/ln4norris/status/1785872795974652036 thoughts on this?

this is one of those instances where so many ppl have this wildly different take on smth and honestly myself and the moots I talk to didn't even… realize it could be taken any other way ??

I think part of this is also bc some ppl are pretty new to landoscar so I'll put more effort into replying to this than I normally would bc I genuinely didn't and still don't see this as being some dramatic thing that Lando said!

but for better reference, I've actually compiled the full clips from the person who posted them in their stories originally with two clips of Lando and Carlos separately saying how their F1 buddies are NOT the same as their actual private life friendships bc I think it helps contextualize what Lando is talking about here.

I think the funniest misinterpretation about this is ppl taking these Shared Activities as indicating deep and meaningful friendships and that therefore Lando doesn't have anything deep or meaningful with Oscar… just bc no padel or golf ?? lasjfgsjla

"we don't do as many things away from the circuit [as Lando does with other drivers like Carlos and Max]"

like. in what world is that him saying anything but … that ?? it's not deep ??

esp when it corroborates what Lando said in that clip about how his relationships with the drivers he’s friends with depend on shared activities and that they’re not his actual close friends the way Max F and all his buddies in London are (he even says in the video above that his friends are mostly in London not Monaco!) and Carlos corroborated the same thing!

so for one thing, the reason he's fine with saying this is because he doesn't see it as some huge thing that he doesn't happen to have with Oscar ?? bc it's not some deep meaningful thing that he hangs with other drivers sometimes outside of F1! they're buddies sure but they're not his private life friends. that's normal and healthy !!

but the other thing that's honestly funny is ppl deciding to misinterpret this as either Lando being a callous asshole to Oscar or again, taking rpf too seriously and thinking "yaayyy I can pretend Lando is secretly in love with/has a deep bond with/is fucking [insert driver here] and hates Oscar"

and like Carlos, Daniel and Lando literally have identical bromance formats with each other and other drivers which makes the whole rpf competition thing so hilariously dumb?? they all do the common hobbies thing, the playing gay for laughs thing, the posting every interaction to social media for fan engagement thing, the roughhousing physicality thing - all with at least 3-5 other drivers. and when you count up the like rpf ship points that these people use to say which one is "better" then m@xiel shits all the way on dand0 for bonding and being mutually invested and charl0s absolutely dunks on carland0 for gay physicality and mutual affection and norrib0n comes along and reminds ppl that Alex remains a hero to Lando and Lando still gets starry eyes over him in a way he never will for Carlos or Daniel etc etc etcccc

all of which still end up paling in comparison to the actual, deep relationships these guys have with their girlfriends and with their private life friends! the idea that Lando will ever love a male friend the way he does Max F is like going to a rakes lying down park and stamping around to get hit in the face repeatedly like why would you bother to be that stupid bffr

[sidenote that I am SO glad for Lando to say smth like this video if it drives those fans away from landoscar. no joke. we do NOT want them here and we do NOT want them treating Lily the way they treat Heidi and Rebecca and treated Luisa and Isa. please stay in carland0 and dand0 and whatever else with that l@rry stylins0n misogynistic, closeted gay men as a fetish shit]

the reality is that if Lando was just meh about Oscar and disinterested in spending any more time with him than he needed to then why would he even point this out ? why would he bother to point out - with even kind of an exasperated pout in his voice - that Oscar isn't interested in anything they can spend time together doing if he… doesn't want to spend time with Oscar anyway ??

exactly asfgsajgflagf

and for ppl who are new, literally the reason a lot of us are so Compelled is precisely bc Lando and Oscar don't follow the cookie cutter bromance format and their respect and interest in each other doesn't rely on common activities or playing into fan PR. they're literally the anti-PR partnership not bc they hate each other or have drama but bc every member of their team says how much they've bonded as drivers and that every time we get content of them together they're beaming at each other and seem to have all these cute little in-jokes and softness. but none of it is for show! none of it jumps off the screen or has them knowingly trying to bait fans!

their entire dynamic is for their own benefit alone and both of them have said how happy they are to have their future together settled for so many years. and the whole vibe of landoscar fandom is that we were all fine with the idea of them just being work friends! then Silverstone happened and the Austin filming happened etc etc. and now we're all watching it and writing fic and making gifs and edits bc landoscar is gentle and gradual and sweet and boyish and genuine.

it's been this gradual little dance between two guys who each have a unique preoccupation with each other but they don't do any of the usual blokey things to force a friendship. Lando's fixations on Oscar's name and his hair and how he's taller and bigger than him and the weirdly horny verbal burps that come out aren't something he does with any of his other driver friends. Oscar is so chilled about other drivers and doesn't even do the whole hero worship thing, yet his internet history about Lando is it's own extremely unique thing that has carried over as his teammate in a way he's never been about another driver.

they don't roughhouse or make fun of each other or push each other's buttons for fun and they don't even raise their voices around each other ?? everything is so gentle and not macho at all ! Lando strangely feels awkward and looks right at Oscar to explain why he diverted to visit Daniel with Martin as a spontaneous unplanned thing even though Oscar wasn't even in Australia anymore when that happened and Oscar didn't even feel like it needed to be explained! Oscar learns and adapts to what Lando feels sensitive about and needs some help with and sometimes even keeps an eye out for his physical well being.

and I think something that has kind of been missed entirely is that the context for the latest video was Lando saying how he's always been the youngest or least experienced in a driver friendship dynamic and - as he's said many times before! - he finds the idea of having to be the older experienced leader not at all comfortable!

which leads to smth a lot of us have always found the sweetest part of the 814 dynamic, the fact that Lando realized early on that he doesn't have to Try with Oscar and he can just exist in his feelings with Oscar and Oscar does not push and he does not get annoyed or weird or offended! and that means that Lando is yes, free to be the full range of bratty to sweetheart and everything in between bc Oscar will just smile at him and be patient. but !! it also means that unless Lando uses his words or takes charge, Oscar will remain in that quiet patient position in their dynamic and won't presume to take charge.

so Lando wishes Oscar would be the older one and take the initiative and now he's in a pickle where he's saying they only don't hang out bc Oscar won't share an interest with him and you can see for a second he knows what he's saying isn't true bc they all talked on a fan stage about a padel competition between Williams and McLaren and he remembers inviting Oscar out to golf at the last minute one time and that Oscar only declined bc he doesn't know how to play and didn't want to hold everyone up but ugh !!! like that is SUCH a Lando situation to get himself into and to somehow be mad at Oscar about <3<3

but ever since Oscar arrived with very little fanfare and decided not to draw too much attention to himself until literally recently, when the Alpine drama was finally firmly behind him, he's been so intent on showing his deference to Lando and even as lately as the place swap in Melbourne that he fully understands the driver dynamics within the team and respects it. and the thing is that Oscar genuinely is so happy to wait and see what Lando wants or needs that it would never remotely occur to him to push or insert himself into Lando's social life unless invited!

so yes, being a fan of landoscar is just like this! it'll never be the PR friendly bromance or the l@rry stylins0n conspiracy theory.

and yep weirdly enough for how so many ppl are taking it, this video for us is so sweet bc Lando's publicly muddling around about why won't Oscar do a mutual interest with him but also already having admitted that he's not good at taking the role that he needs to and pulling Oscar along into his social life the way Carlos, Daniel, Max etc have always done with him - all while Oscar is oblivious and doesn't think anything is even wrong ! and oh boy, Oscar being too literal and not being the type to be pushy ends up assuming he's doing the right thing by not trying to invite himself along to anything with Lando!

like, this is how it goes! if you want the whole bromance catering precisely to your ship needs OR you're hunting for huge drama and simmering resentments that turn into huge drama then this is NOT the place for you lasfgalfg

don't get me wrong I eat up the bromances and the doomed drama partnerships too but I just don't find them worth writing all these stupid posts about like I do w landoscar bc those partnerships are what you see is what you get. apparently what gets me going is The Yearning and The Miscommunication.

[kookidough]

AGRGAGRGAV i always ponder how alenoah reunion would go because like . it could go So many different ways

like how do they feel about each other now?? i always feel like after world tour is over, noah’s irritation would fizzle out and he’d be back to winning the idgaf war, accepting that in the end it was just a game and alejandro ended up playing better than him

alejandro’s feelings on the subject feel more complex to me like. does he accept the fact that, while noah’s words were harsh, they held some truth?? i view his reaction to noah talking behind his back as very telling of how close they were (despite the relatively short amount of time they spent together)

personally i think that pre-london they were close friends because they could match each other’s humour/wit, like how they laugh at tyler on the runway and when alejandro tells a mean-spirited joke regarding lindsay’s intelligence he tells it to noah, and Cmon guys, i know it was a team challenge but they still spent like 18 hours traversing the amazon together i just know they bonded during that!!! i wont even get into the fact that they’re always standing next to each other / hanging out in the background because i will be a pigeon pecking at crumbs and ive already gone off topic from the original reunion idea

anyway i think alejandro was mad because he thought he could consider noah a friend but he can see noah maybe doesnt feel the same way + hes a threat anyway soooo bye bye noah, question is would he hold a grudge over it and if yes then how long for

and what r they doing in their lives now when they meet again?? is alejandro still with heather or did that doomed relationship crash and burn (again)? is noah with emma or did things not work out after the race? and of course this differs depending on which world tour ending you’re going for, because is alejandro finally a winner or does his family still view him as the runner up they’ve always seen him as, second place silver in a robot suit, never quite good enough for gold (had to go off topic again, burromuerto family angst Gets Me)

would they miss the brief friendship they had? does noah ever meet a contestant on another one of him and owen’s reality shows and get a fleeting reminder of alejandro when they flirt or flash him a smile? does he get tired of no one else being on his wavelength and cast his mind back to that one boy that was? does alejandro ever turn on the tv and spot noah on one of those dumb shows?? and if he does what does he think?

ough i got off topic so many times i love thinking abt them in the future, they dont even have to reunite i also enjoy the bittersweet angst of right people wrong time/place… i think things would’ve been better for them if a million dollars wasn’t on the line

also i am not reading all this before i post it so if there are mistakes or it doesnt make sense then . pretend u didnt see it ^_^

[skippiefritz]

reqs from @idanit and @beetle-goth (sorry for tags I'll untag if asked ^^;)

long rambly post ahead! Unlike what I normally post but its my account so I can do what I want lol

(This probably isn't the most historical thing I’ve ever written but! I will fix as I work on it more lol)

the implications of Bertie's bachelorhood if he were a bachelorette fascinate me endlessly

I read this post and it gave me brain worms and I've been designing an au around it ever since

In this au it's a complete genderswap with all characters, uncle Alistair (aunt Agatha) becomes more old fashioned sexist to Bertie, not thinking she can take care of herself. (sorry Agatha stans)

Which like. She can't. But it's nothing to do with her being a woman.

Bertie keeps her core character traits, but by merely being a woman living alone in 1920s London, she inherently becomes more independent and rebellious.

She's sneakier about her escapades, still stealing hats off bobby's and the like, but tries to be subtle about it. Emphasis on tries, she's still a Wooster at her core, and thus a very

big klutz.

Bertie is just completely and unapologetically her/himself regardless of gender, for better or for worse.

If humble pie is being served, she will surely go back for seconds every time.

I can picture her leaning very hard into the roaring twenties flapper persona, but still being a homebody at heart. Big of heart, dumb of ass.

The biggest issue of course is the engagements, it’s a lot harder for a woman (particularly one whose family wants her to get married) to get out of engagements. THIS is where the fun new plots come in

Obviously there’s the classic setting up her fiances with other women, so they call it off and marry their true loves. And the occasional making herself seem unsuitable to be married. (though, this would usually backfire, that would make it seem like she needed to be married more, so she had a man to take care of her and make her settle down)

Instead of focusing on making it seem she herself is un-weddable, she (and by she I mean Jeeves) concocts byzantine schemes to paint her potential suitors in the worst light possible, or to make them seem negligible so one family or the other would call it off.

I’ve been working on one such story, I haven't ironed out all the details but it ends with Gussie pushing Bertie into a lake. Of course. (I may make  a comic abt it when done)

Jeeves’ character is fascinating too, I see her being the classic “quiet competent woman who gets shit done”. She would be less respected than m!jeeves, but still far more respected than the average maidservant of her time.

I can see her need for fashion clashing with the maidservant outfits of the time, part of me is tempted to keep her design the exact same and make her a big beautiful butch, but…I know that's probably not how it would go.

Jeeves would wear the classic Maidservant outfit of the time, though I can see her styling it subtly to suit her more.

Her control over Bertie’s wardrobe, while still being “God this bitch has no fashion”, also has an undercurrent of internalized sexism. She’s discomforted by the more risque (by those times) outfits Bertie enjoys wearing, like her flashy flapper dresses and the like.

Of course, she’s also uncomfortable by how attractive she finds her in said risque clothes. (drama!!)

And they end up compromising !!! and Jeeves has a lil arc in learning to accept the new fashion wave and embracing bodies and whatnot.

Their dynamic would essentially be the same, homoeroticism, Jeeves being morosexual, Bertie being endlessly impressed by her.

also because of the ridiculous british nicknames most the characters are referred to the same, they just have diff first names, here's a quick cheat sheet

(I tried to keep them similar and also extremely english)

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Bertam "Bertie" Wooster = Bertha "Bertie" Wooster

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Aunt Agatha/Dahlia = uncle Alistor/Dahl

Augustus "Gussie" Fink-Nottle = August "Gussie" Fink-Nottle

Charles "Biffy" Biffen = Charlotte "Biffy" Biffen

Marmaduke "Chuffy" Chuffnell = Marigold "Chuffy" Chuffnell

Stephanie "Stiffy" Byng = Stewart "Stiffy" Byng (the implications of a man being named Stiffy are. different but Wodehouse had to know what he was doing with that name)

Richard "Bingo" little = Richenda "Bingo" Little

and so on and so forth!

Anyway uh, this went on for a while lol

I’m working on designs for them and will gladly share if asked! But they’re nowhere near done dhjdsh thanks for coming to my ted talk.

I don't know if any of this made sense, sorry if it doesn’t.

also for a bonus here's a quick messy collage I made of f!Bertie

[kijosakka]

Total Drama World Tour AU, where before everyone votes, Alejandro asks Noah: "Since you knew my true colors, why didn't you team up with Heather? Why didn't you warn the others earlier? Why did you only warn Owen and Tyler now?"... Noah then answers: "Because I don't care what you do with the others... If they're dumb enough to fall for your tricks and charms, then they deserve to lose... But Owen is my best friend, and I don't like how you treat him, so he's the only one I'm warning..." 😏 What if Noah's answer makes Alejandro decide to vote off Duncan instead?... How would Noah react to not being voted off?... What if Alejandro likes Noah's logical apathy?

there’s something in how (according to the wiki, at least), noah takes notice of alejandro’s sketchy behavior in germany and only ever brings up the trust thing challenges later in london — not to say noah hasn’t spoken with owen about alejandro before then (seen through when owen says noah told him heather and alejandro were into each other ‘big time’, he’s obviously talked about him before) but as owen’s asking ‘why don’t you like him’ and noah explains why he distrusts him that would indicate it’s something that specifically hasn’t been brought up before.

all this to say that he’s spoken to owen about them before and it shows if nothing else he wants owen to be wary of alejandro, which would be why he jumps at the opportunity to further warn and explain to him his distrust.

anyway i’d imagine post-challenge, while dissatisfied with it, noah would expect his elimination (thus giving him reason to lay all this cards on the table via telling alejandro why he did so, if not being just straight-up spiteful and wanting to gloat), adding to the surprise when he isn’t.

duncan would be saved by chris here (because of,, drama or whatever. the dreaded love triangle), and on noah’s part probably dread or annoyance with a smidge of being happy he’s not voted off — because, yeah, he’s still here, but now he has to deal with that he revealed himself to alejandro and through implicitly voting for him duncan may be wary of any alliance between them, leaving him as the option.

because i do think alejandro would leverage him warning owen to his own advantage — and even if there’s no goodwill or trust, duncan would play swing vote if it means the heat is off himself. thus, if alejandro says, owen is gone — to keep noah close; but further than that i do think alejandro would at least find his apathy interesting, if initially in a purely strategic way.

a kind of, ‘noah is proactive enough to recognize me but spiteful enough to think the people around him don’t “deserve” to be warned because they can’t see it themselves’.

there would be appreciation there for his being able to even see through his façade in the first place, and im sure grudging respect for being willing to say it knowing everyone else is fooled and it would cause dislike to be thrown noahs way (…..not that i think noah thought of this. i just think alejandro would assume noah did)

i do think noah would, while being pretty incensed at leveraged into such a forced alliance situation, go along with it, riding alejandros coattails to keep owen safe.

story-wise it would make sense for owen to still be eliminated in sweden (through a tiebreaker, probably) so noah can properly break away from alejandro come merger and team with someone else

……or conversely noah stays with alejandro and flat-out trashes it to get himself voted out. arguably the most in-character thing for him to do.

^ also because through the entirety of it, noah may recognize it for what it is; showing off. alejandro has been shown in-canon to be the kind of person who puts showing off above strict pragmatism, so he’s ‘punishing’ noahs speaking out by ‘showing off’ that he can leverage the situation to his own benefit anyway. and noah, spiteful and upset that his friend is gone, would seize the opportunity to piss alejandro off via ruining his whole plan.

this is all to say i want this particular set-up to turn into noah vaguely annoyed but mostly apathetic at his situation and for alejandro to be the stupid loser he really is genuinely growing to really like noah and his brand of scheming (romantic or otherwise honestly). more stupid loser alejandro please. completely dumbfounded when noah gets himself out.

[autumn-foxfire]

I've spent the better part of the day playing the new Genshin update and am in a good mood so I've decided it's time for me to tackle the London section of Detective Conan.

As I've said on an earlier post, I am looking forwards to aspects such as Shinichi's pure enjoyment about being in London but there are others that I am not *cough* the "confession" *cough*

Honestly, why are they surprised that "Conan" can speak English. His name is very much English in nature, most people would assume that he has an English parent or was raised in America/England.

But it's very cute that Shinichi did not miss an opportunity to go visit the home of his hero!

I genuinely can't believe his parents have never taken their son to London... it almost seems cruel considering they love to travel and it's clear their son would adore to visit such a location...

And you'd think that with all the connections Yuusaku has, he could have gotten his son and Ai a passport to help make their identities real and give them the chance to travel. But judging from how they've also never taken their son to LONDON I think it's pretty clear they don't give much of a damn.

It's also so Gosho can force what happens.

Ai is incredibly kind however, to give Shinichi the chance to go to London despite the risks.

Oh this also makes me incredibly sad because Ran shouldn't spend her money on Shinichi who knows he'll be coming to London, she should get souveniers for herself. Shinichi as Conan could have said he'd get them.

It's the pink shirt T-T The pink shirt of doom.

SHINICHI IS SUCH AN ADORABLE NERD!

Oh Shinichi did try and stop her from getting him souveniers. Well at least he tried to stop her.

Of course you've made her mad Shinichi, she wants to do something nice for you and you blew her off because you're hiding a secret you don't need to hide from her.

Shinichi and his ability to stumble on a case.

It's so weird to hear british accents in DCMK...

Minerva is a bit of a bitch but Ran also needs someone to tell her to ditch Shinichi and move on. Yes, what she did could have been seen as insensitive but as the audience we know that's not the case so Shinichi is just causing her more pain than needed.

Does it not concern Shinichi at all at how easy it is for him to lie to Ran? Because it concerns me a lot.

HOLMES IS WRONG SHINICHI. FOOD IS FUEL.

Shinichi DOES NOT DESERVE RAN.

Yes, that's the appropriate reaction to have to your "love interest". Flee. Fuck I hate their canon relationship so much.

Okay, but what is with Ran's reaction too?! Honestly I'd run as well. Lord give me strength.

Get hurt, idiot.

WHY WOULD SHE KNOW YOU'RE KUDO SHINICHI?!

ALL RAN HAS ASKED IS IF PEOPLE HAD SEEN A JAPANESE BOY! SHE NEVER SAID THE AGE OF THE BOY SHE WAS CHASING! MY GOD THIS IS SO DUMB!

HE'S RUNNING BECAUSE YOU'RE SCREAMING HIS NAME IN A WAY THAT SUGGESTS YOU WANT TO HURT HIM?!

Ran has every right to be mad with Shinichi but damn is this moment so contrived and stupid!

Ran is crying her eyes out and Shinichi still only cares about the case when Ran is sharing how fucking hurt she is?! RAN DITCH SHINICHI.

...4 more episodes left.

I'm honestly so disgusted that it took a half-hearted "confession" that he only did because Ran was in so much pain caused by his actions for her to forgive his behaviour. Fuck Gosho and fuck how he writes Ran.

"This is the name of a story Shinichi told me about before" and it's a flashback of her getting mad at him and then complaining about him enjoying Holmes.

"Why hasn't the killer been arrested yet?" because the police suck!

Ran doesn't even want to see Shinichi after his great "confession" how telling.

Ran just assaults the man instead of asking kindly for him to roll up his pant legs... She and Shinichi are really competing for who is the most unlikable in these episodes.

Ignoring a threat? Sounds like the police here. Unless that threat is someone who isn't white and british and usually they're not a threat.

I can understand why the English are speaking slow for the sake of Japanese watchers but it really reminds me of children learning shows and is throwing me off a little XD

GREMLIN CHILD

He was just going to tranquilize a security guard to get in T-T

I mean, out of all of them, Shinichi has the most experience with guys who chase their appearance.

Shinichi shouting out in the crowd was adorable. He's redeemed himself a little from this clusterfuck of a set of episodes.

And of course his parents already know but are just leaving it all to their young son because all parents in dcmk are SHIT. Don't forget that. "But Foxy, it's more entertaining for the MC to save the day" it is but the price of that is him having extremely terrible parents.

Okay but Gosho does realize how bad this is right? Comparing Ran and Shinichi's relationship with Ares and Minerva. Minerva said that she doesn't want Ares to hold back from what he loves meanwhile Shinichi is constantly holding Ran back and making her wait for him. He does see the difference, right.

What Shinichi did wasn't a confession. He told her she was trouble and then said how could he understand the heart of the girl he likes. MAYBE RECOGNIZE SHE IS EXTREMELY HURT AND DISTRESSED AND YOU'RE THE REASON WHY! It's a terrible confession and I am totally writing Ran rejecting it.

And Ai knows Shinichi is an idiot.

[mrsfezziwig]

Joe-ver, Traylor & Condescension

I know how I reacted to the news that Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn had broken up because a fellow Swiftie I am close friends with via FB - I am housebound - gave me the 'terrible' news. Dissolving into fits of laughter apparently wasn't the reaction I should have had; whilst the rest of Swiftville collectively used sobbing emojis in tweets, Facebook status updates, Instagram posts and comments, I was among the few who were marvelling at the fact it managed to last six years at all. I was among those who were avoiding saying 'I told you so' by duct-taping our mouths closed.

Apparently it is morally reprehensible to speak ill of the dead, and Joe's career may as well dead as a door nail now he only has his... skills to fall back on. No one can ever convince me that this man got the roles he did because of his talent alone. Even if he was told that his almost god-tier performance in audition was what got him the role, directors and casting agents aren't stupid. Being linked to the whirlwind force that is Taylor Swift means that her immensely supportive fans will support those she loves, equalling higher ratings and more cash. Oh, and it would make doors firmly shut to these directors and producers before magically swing open with a 'tada' and jazz hands. But of course it was alllll Joe, it was no one else but Joe that pushed him into suddenly getting the role he went for each time. Yes, I am being condescending, but the reason I have been so purposefully scathing is having had the pleasure of working with this man pre-Taylor. I wasn't yet debilitated by my medical condition and my in-real-life best friend was working on the wardrobe for a show which Joe was in. She needed help with understanding knitting and other 'lady-like' skills, which I have experience with from the age of seven. My opinion of the man is formed from seeing his interpersonal connections and just how pompous he was then.

After the initial wave of 'oh no' and 'this can't be happening', the tide swept away the sand-like haze the fandom had been in and left bare the truth that everyone failed to see sooner. Joe thought Taylor was beneath him in terms of her craft. She wrote songs to go on albums that are insanely popular but also effete, passing fads and fripperies compared to 'real' artsy music. These song were dumb, unless he was in the credits because money doesn't matter; in his head he is a modern version of a 1920s bohemian who lives in a tiny studio surrounded by easels and clay, earning a pittance and drinking with friends every night as they discuss intellectual things the majority of people can't even pronounce.

Suddenly Swiftville filled with pauses then began to whisper about how Joe really treated Taylor, how his demands for a total blackout in terms of speaking about the relationship were kind of controlling, and that he liked living in the enormous apartment that Taylor rented in London, he just didn't want to be known as 'Taylor Swift's Boyfriend' like it's a disease.

I understand wanting privacy in a relationship but if became obvious quickly that Alwyn wanted to live like he was the star with an average everyday girlfriend who basked in his light, not the other way around. Sure, that privacy was perfect for the time they got together, Taylor was at her very lowest mentally and they were cocooned together, where he can imagine himself as the star like he desired. The pandemic didn't help when it came to being in that cocoon again. I genuinely and passionately believe the relationship would have ended after the Lovefest Tour, or even whilst she was actively touring but it would have been kept secret. A split from the person she wrote almost all of Lover about in the middle of promotion would have been tough to manage in terms of PR. Tree is an absolute wizard when it comes to that but she can't perform miracles!

The Midnights album and tour played a huge part in the break up, or the final, no going back break up as there were a few others according to what various sources have said. In addition I don't believe it was amicable at all, it was protracted and painful, particularly now we know 'You're Losing Me' was written in late 2021! My instincts tingle that they were over in late 2022, but Joe attended the Grammy after party to keep the ruse going for a while, although the why of this part I can't put together sensibly.

As the fuss of Ratty Healy fizzled out (what the fuck were you thinking Taylor?) and The Eras Tour continued on, a new beau appearead in Travis Kelce and it is where I begin to loathe some parts of the fandom. Just as Joe was condescending towards Taylor, her 'fans' are now being condescending to Travis, and that is never fair until you get to know more about them. If whoever is on Ms Swift's arm is a dick, we can call it out but so far, based purely on his podcast with brother Jason, he is a deeply genuine, generous, honest man.

As a time out I would like to look at why I think Taylor and Travis are great for one another, which is obviously only my opinion, this entire essay being based on those and a few podcast episodes, an NFL game I had to dig around on my TV package to find and which I understood literally nothing more of than that the grass was green and Travis was playing... Off I go-

This man is unashamedly himself. There's nothing hiding, he's not pretending the dorky side of him doesn't exist, he has embraced it for millions to see for years and years. He made a fucking friendship bracelet for her. This tall, strong NFL guy sat down and threaded tiny beads onto string with his phone number on. I mean... please? That's some of the cutest shit I have ever heard and probably just bumped my high expectations in what I want in a man into near impossible levels.

Travis is confident and comfortable in his own skin, there's no feeling inferior, he is already successful, in a career that does not sit in the arts sphere so he doesn't need to be Taylor Swift's Boyfriend to get parts in films or sell albums. I also noticed when he waited for Taylor to come off stage in Argentina, he kept his hands behind his back to ensure Taylor was the one in control of the PDA level. She could indicate what she wanted by reaching for his hand or, as we saw, run up to him and throw her arms around him. The mental image of the sequin purple dress as Taylor ran to Joe could practically be a copy paste of this but the second time around there was no hiding under the brim of his baseball cap like he was ashamed to be seen with someone who has mass market appeal. He was there in a shirt so unique he couldn't be misidentified by even an ET.

Now I want to move onto something more serious, something that I cannot believe Swifties considered acceptable to do: dig around in twitter and find tweets 12 years old with misspellings even though it is common knowledge that Travis is Dyslexic!

They dragged a man with dyslexia because his old tweets were misspelled. It was all a joke, of course (/s), but it isn't and shouldn't be, because it was Swifties looking at the tweets, creating a spiderweb thin veneer of being humorous whilst, consciously or unconsciously, thinking Taylor is too good for him because of it. They were trying to make it look like Travis was the dumb jock student who barely breathed near a book his whole life and Taylor the intellectual who uses big words in her songs that he could never understand. In what world is it okay to point out how her past boyfriends looked down on her only to do the same to Travis? This has truly pissed me off.

Oh, how I wish it stopped there but it doesn't. As the news got out of the budding relationship, more than one Swift 'news channel' said she was having a 'himbo' moment. A Himbo moment... How much more degrading can you get? They may as well have been blatant, not cowardly, hiding behind buzzwords and have said:

"He plays in the NFL? Urgh that is so puke, everyone knows those players don't have a decent braincell in their heads! This break up with Joe really hit her hard, Travis has to be a rebound, she couldn't possibly like this guy."

Well, it doesn't take much to find out that actually, Travis has a Bachelors Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies. He didn't have a need to complete his credits, his place with the Kansas City Chiefs is secure, but he still persevered, kept studying despite his difficulties with reading and writing and graduated in 2022. That's not even remotely easy and certainly doesn't make him intellectually beneath Taylor at all.

Another thing I saw and heard more than once was that Taylor looked bored at the Kansas game she attended, unable to understand what she watching and simply doing what others did to hide it. This was the 'first date' for them and she spent it with his parents, who, shockingly wanted to be there to support their son as they always did, in a private box. So much about this is stupid to the point I think these Swifties need to learn a lesson in humility! It's appalling that they are so arrogant, so indelibly stained with Taylor's genius-by-proxy that anyone or anything that sits outside of what they think she enjoys is only fit to be squashed beneath the queen's high heeled boots. Sound fucking familiar? What is laughable about it is that Taylor herself is incredibly humble and thankful and doesn't paint herself as a genius at all!

Scott Swift is a major, major football fan, a former(?) Philadelphia Eagles stalwart and possible Kansas Chiefs new sign up, therefore it is utterly ridiculous to suggest his daughter didn't pick up on the lingo, rules, statistics and points from hearing holy talk about it. Taylor was very responsive to the game, I found as many videos of her as I could to be sure of it, and there was no waiting around for others to react, she was up there shouting and jumping in all her glory, decked out in that perfect shade of red that suits her so well and following the game.

As for the whole 'mama on the first date' thing? Who are you to assume it's a date? Obviously it wasn't. In fact Travis has clearly stated that he invited her to hang out in his box and see him after the game, not as a date... And of all the videos and pictures I have looked up to try and get this opinion piece to be reasonably accurate, the laughter and smiles between Mama Kelce and Taylor look genuine, not like TayTay is playing a part in a movie as has been suggested by some.

By taking a step back from the stupidity and condescension you can see why they work so well, so here's my reasons for why I believe that:

Family comes first for both and they understand the closeness of a family bonded like that as Taylor's parents are her backbone through all the bullshit.

They are both successful and don't actually need one another. It's a position of equality for them both.

Travis has said in his podcast that the paparazzi are insane but he knows how to handle it. He knows that being with a global superstar comes with negatives but you have to decide if those negatives are manageable for the person in your life and he has decided he can hack it. Head down, hold tight to the hand and just go for whatever door you are aiming for.

As strange as this is about to sound, he's a man. At 6'5" he is just perfect for a woman of Taylor's height, she can still wear her heels and feel feminine beside Travis. He is bigger than her security guards and can take a few knocks if anything goes west.

He's a God-damn gentleman. He opened her door, kept hold of her hand tight so as not to lose her in the kerfuffle of photographers outside the SNL meal they went to and he let her pick her comfort zone in terms of hugs and kisses.

Culture. I mean in terms of holidays, traditions, norms and values. Most of the people she's dated have been British, and although we share much, we can never truly understand what Americans feel about their country. To us the idea of reciting a few words to a flag in the corner of a classroom each morning is very, very, very cult vibed.

Freedom. Sure that sounds weird but I mean it in the sense that Travis is a Swiftie, this man knows how utterly off the wall Taylor can be even before he took his friendship bracelet shot at her, and they complement one another in that sense. No judgement will be coming from this man at all, he'd more likely be the one with her on the dance floor as they moved in crazy ways like no one sees them.

They've agreed on how much they are willing to divulge. He consistently says in post game interviews that although he will openly say that they are dating, he won't say anything more than that without speaking to Taylor first, and it doesn't take Stephen Hawking to realise she'd tell him not to elaborate further. Whenever she's mentioned in the podcast it is usually about the fans, not our Queen directly, such as the Christmas single reaching number one on iTunes.

He. Wants. The. World. To. Know. Isn't that refreshing? From her songs alone anyone can deduce that Taylor enjoys being in love and wants that love shouted from the rooftops, she wants to be acknowledged by her partner. She is able to express this in song whilst her other halves generally haven't or if they have it's been too subtle. Going from being as closed off as Jaylor were, to Travis proudly saying they are together must feel awesome for her.

He likes her acknowledgement right back. If you haven't seen the video of his face and neck going red as Tay changed the lyrics to Karma for him, go find it and then come back and read this again.

With all the love and respect I have for Ms Swift, I pray, beg fate, give offerings to the gods, ask the universe to make this one be it for her. Of all the guys that have gone before there's no one like Travis Kelce in the mix and maybe this is the 1!

P. S. I chose Maroon because it is all said in the first verse...

[fanfictiongirlie]

Mcfly: It Was Me, Wasn't It? Chapter Two

Parings: Dougie Poynter x First Person Character

Description:

'It was me, wasn't it?' He mumbled. I nodded and kissed him again. Until he pulled away smiling. 'I love you' He mouthed. 'I love you too' I smiled pulling him in to another kiss.

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up

Warnings: Angst, AU, Implied Sexual Content

p.s So I originally wrote this before 2012 when I was around 13/14. It wasn't good, but I really love the story, and Dougie Poynter was my first crush so I rewrote it a few years back. Go into this, not expecting a great story, but the plot, well it's a little silly. But if you love Dougie Poynter you may like it for that fact.

Let's Rewind

Let's rewind a bit, about a year ago, my life wasn't so hectic. And I wasn't waking up naked next to my best friend. Whom, funnily enough, I didn't even know a year ago. 

This is the story of how I met Dougie Poynter and proceeded to fall in love with him..

____________________________________________________________

My music was blaring, drowning out the world around me, which was slowly drowning of the rain pour right now... Luckily I was only ten minutes away from home. Which was good, because I was cold and in a rush. I needed to get ready for maybe the most exciting moment of my life. 

Me, and my three best friends, we're in a band. We're called Electric Sauce, I suppose it's kind of a dumb name. But Luke thought of the name. They're four of us in the band, including me. 

First you have Luke, he is kind of the parent of the group. He was the oldest of us, being 23. He was always making sure we ate well, and making sure we were always on time. He is also our Drummer.

And the you have, Ashton and Athan, the twins. They're the babies of the group, they're only 20. I love them, but they are seriously mischievous. Ashton played Lead Guitar. And Athan played the Bass. 

And then you have me, I'm 21, the lead vocalist. I play guitar sometimes, but I much prefer it when I get to play the keyboard. 

And thats our band. Our silly little band we started when we were in our early teens, we started posting videos on youtube. And we've been writing our own songs too. And finally someone noticed us. 

We had been signed to a label, for a two album contract. Which to us that was the best thing that could of ever happened. Because it means we can finally get our music out there, and finally keep up paying our rent. London was not a cheap place to live. 

------------

"These are heavy" Ashton whined, as he was carrying both his guitar and Athan's.

"Hey, you lost the bet" Athan chuckled. 

We managed to make it to the studio in time, only using public transport so I was quite pleased with myself. 

We walked into the building and suddenly all felt under dressed, the boys wore ripped jeans and band t-shirts, whilst I wore leggings and a Mcfly top. This place felt fancy. 

Everything was white, white walls, white carpets. Glass tables and counter tops. 

"Ah, hello" A tall man in a suit came over with a flashy smile "You must be Electric Sauce" 

We all nodded. 

"My name is Charlie, I'll be your manager whilst you are working with us, if you would like to follow me" He said, smiling. He started walking, at a quick pace, so we all followed, stumbling over one another. He entered a studio room, and closed the door behind us. 

"Take a seat" He smiled motioning to the two couches. We all sat on one whilst he sat on the opposite. 

"First names please" He smiled, pulling a clipboard out from under the chair. 

"Luke, Athan, Ashton and Y/N'" Luke answered for us. Charlie jotted them down. 

"Okay brilliant, so tell me how the band works, who can do that?" He asked. 

"Well I am lead vocalists, and guitar or keyboard when needed" I answered, smiling. I crossed one leg over the other and rested my hands on my knee. Maybe it would make me look more professional. It worked in the movies. 

"I am the drummer" Luke started "And Ashton is our lead guitarist, and Athan plays bass, and we all pitch in with vocals" 

Charlie nodded and continued to jot down all that we were staying. 

"Well let's hear you then?" Charlie smiled, pointing towards the part of studio where you actually record the music. 

"Can we play anything?" I asked, Charlie nodded. A quick chat with the boys and we decided to play a cover of Busted - Falling for you. 

Charlie played with some buttons, before giving us the thumbs up, and we began to play. 

_______________

It always felt magical, playing music. Once we had finished, we placed our instruments down, and all went back to the couch. 

"You guys have definitely got it, we'll start song writing and recording Monday?" Charlie smiled, and shook our hands. We were so overjoyed. 

We had to stay a bit longer to sign contracts and some papers. But once that was done we were free too enjoy the weekend. 

We left the studio and I wasn't looking where I was going and I bumped into someone and fell to the ground. 

I looked up to see Dougie Poynter standing there, holding his hand out for me. I obviously died right?

I took his hand and he lifted me up with ease. 

"Are you okay?" He asked me, I nodded. I think I forgot what words were. 

"Sorry she's a big fan!" Ashton giggled. 

"I could tell by your shirt" Dougie smirked at me. I squeaked. Brilliant. 

"Sorry for bumping into you" I say sheepishly. Dougie shrugs and smiles. 

"Hope you see you around" He says winking at me, and then he walked away. 

"I died, didn't I?" I turned and asked the boys, who were now pissing them selves laughing. 

I met my idol and I fucked up, bit time... 

(P.s, funny, I wrote this before I knew about 5 Seconds of Summer, I chose Luke and Ashton back when I was like 14. Sorry, that was funny to me)

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

whats your all time favourite larry moment? or multiple if you cant narrow it down :) looks/mirrorings/hushed words?

anon thank you so much for this, you sent me on a journey through my tags and my cheeks are actually hurting from smiling <3

this is in no particular order ok (because I can't pick just one moment nor even rank them) but here it is:

I'm starting with this kind of dumb moment. this VIOS interview is just awful and awkward but this part right here always gets me!!!!!! the interviewer asks what makes them want to go to a talent show and louis being his incredible self whispers jokingly "the VIOS" and both harry and louis burst out laughing, it's so adorableeeee, I even looked for the video and exact minute so you can watch for yourself, and also have this gif:

there's also this small moment that I simply adore because it just screams intimacy - harry goes to grab the phone case in between louis' legs and louis doesn't even flinch!!!!!! seriously!!!!

this moment!!!!!! they! were! falling! in! love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *screams*

can't believe they were mortal enemies here, imagine being forced to laugh with your enemy because of an inside joke you both have (that you were also forced to create):

look the FOND!!!!! (and the nose scrunch) on harry's face listening to louis talk about how they met:

BOTH TIMES HARRY SANG STILL THE ONE!!!!!! the first time he sang it holds a special place in my heart because the boy was fonding hard!!!! and louis was obviously there BUT he sang this fucking sappy song only four months ago!!!! in the year of 2022 harry was out there singing about the one and people think they ever broke up like... tumblr won't let me upload more than one video per post but here, watch this:

this embarassing moment. louis was having water fights with liam every show but when he was supposed to throw water at harry this is what he did instead. EMBARASSING:

this actually needs its own post but I have to mention it, of course:

this interview where louis said he finally had a good night of sleep and coincidentally, coincidentally!!! harry had returned to london the day before. louis looked so well rested and the fond (and something more) was, yes, you guessed, showing:

I'm gonna give a shout out to these moments because it's too much to ignore it:

and I'm going to finish with this one because what were the odds of zane lowe mentioning people that've broken their bones during tour when louis just happened to have broken his own elbow!!!!! harry's reaction is priceless. I'll forever be in debt with zane lowe for giving us this moment:

so yeah, there you have it anon. I could go on and on but I think this is a good summary.

[formula1neverleft]

Charles Leclerc - Burning Red

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

 Warning: swearing,  little bit of fluff, but mostly ANGST ( I apologize in advance </3, loosely based on Red by Taylor Swift, but obvi changed it up a bit to be from Charles’ pov. Charles takes Lando’s advice, which is just….dumb :)) ) Not proofread 

Enjoy xx 

Summary: in which he has to choose between his brother and her

Words: 5k

 Song recs: Red by Taylor Swift // I Love You So by The Walters // Nightcall by London Grammar // Hope Is a Heartache by Léon 

 Some posts that *inspired* me: Charles being a happy boi during the Dutch GP, Charles trying to hide his broken heart and focus on the race in Austin 

Zandvoort, Netherlands, September 2021 

 Despite trying numerous times, Charles can’t pinpoint the exact moment where it happened. Everytime he tries, his mind comes up with a plethora of blurry moments and sounds instead. Her laugh when laughing at her own silly jokes, her fingers brushing her hair behind her ear (which she does when she’s either concentrating really hard or is embarrassed about something), her eyes searching for his. He doesn’t understand that after so many years spent not looking at her as anything other than a friend, how the hell he managed to find himself in this predicament. The only explanation is that somewhere along the way, things changed. She changed, and maybe he did too, and he fell for her. He fell for her, and it was the biggest mistake he’s ever made. Those are two things he can be sure of. 

 The first time Arthur told Charles he had a crush on Y/N, he was still in middle school. The reason for this crush was nothing more than the fact that Y/N had helped Arthur with his math homework during lunch that day. So naturally, in Arthurs adolescent mind, they were now meant to get married one day. Charles remembers how he playfully punched his brother in the shoulder and spent the next few days teasing him about it and threatening him with telling Lorenzo or worse, Y/N herself. The second time Arthur confided in Charles, it wasn’t a crush anymore. No, it was love this time. He was in love with Y/N. By this point, Y/N and Arthur had become best friends, and she was over at their house all the time. So it made sense to Charles and pretty much everyone around them that they would eventually end up together. Charles would often push his brother to just bite the bullet and make the first move, but Arthur insisted that he was okay with being friends for now.  

 “Listen, bro, I think it’s actually better that I…wait” Arthur had explained 

 “Wait for what exactly? For hell to freeze over? You have been pining for her since the day you met her, I would argue that you’ve waited long enough” Charles retorted. 

 “When people get together too young it always messes everything up. Besides, I am kinda hoping that when she eventually goes on dates with other guys, she’ll realize that none of them even come close to me “, he raised his eyebrows while gesturing his hands to his own chest, “I just feel like we’re meant to be, she’ll realize sooner or later. And when she does, I’ll be right here” 

 Charles closes his eyes and rolls around in his hotel bed restlessly as he remembers the conversation between him and his brother, and a familiar feeling rears its head. Guilt, so intense and ominous he almost felt himself get physically sick as it spread through his body. It was a sensation he had become all too familiar with over the past few months, but today it was particularly overpowering. Maybe it was the weather, Charles thought, because it was pouring rain… just like it did that day. 

 Monte Carlo, Monaco, August 2021 

 // Loving her was red //  

 After his DNF in Hungary, the summer break had been more than welcome for Charles. He spent his days catching up with family and friends, gaming, of course some inescapable training to stay focused, and spent any extra time brushing up on his piano playing skills. That day, the weather had helped him escape the 5k run his trainer had planned, but no matter how grateful he was for this, being cooped up in his apartment for so long was making him uneasy. Just when he was debating changing out of his sweats and t-shirt and dragging himself to the gym, a knock on his door dragged him from his thoughts. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, because it was already 11pm and he didn’t make any plans with his mates to hang out tonight. He scurried to his door and was even more confused when he finally opened it. 

 “Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

 “Listen, to make a long story short, I lost my house keys and I’m home alone so nobody can let me in, and I doubt any locksmith is gonna answer the phone at this hour. Can I please crash here? I had nowhere else to go” she explained. It was then that Charles noticed she was shivering. 

 “Jesus, you’re soaked, you walked here from your house without a raincoat?!” 

 “I would love to stand here and question my wardrobe choices for hours…or you could invite me inside before I freeze to death in this hallway?” she replied jokingly. 

 “Yeah, sorry, please come in” 

 As she walked into his apartment, she curiously took in her surroundings. Charles realized she’d never been here before. He also realized that despite knowing each other for probably a decade now, they’ve never been anywhere together without Arthur also there. 

 “I’m really sorry for barging in like this, normally I would save this kind of annoying task for Arthur, but he’s already in Belgium so you were the only one i could think of” 

 “No, it’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything anyway, you can stay here for the night, no problem” 

 “Thanks, I appreciate it” she replied while crossing her arm over her chest. 

 “You’re freezing, come on, I’ll get you some clothes so you can change” Charles said as he strode towards his bedroom. Y/N followed suit and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as she entered his room. 

 “Wow, really a Ferrari fan at heart, huh? You should get one of yourself up there as well” she gestured towards the numerous Ferrari posters and memorabilia that littered the space. He knew it was kind of ridiculous, but he couldn’t help but bring his love for the sport and his team in particular into his home. The team felt like a second family, so it only seemed right that they had a place here as well. 

 “Yes, I’m just waiting for the entire CL16 merch line to drop, that way I can buy it in bulk and make a shrine next to my bed” He said while searching through one the drawers in his closet. She laughed in response, so lively and sincere that he was taken aback by it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t understood Arthurs feelings for Y/N  before. She was funny, smart, pretty, and kind. But having her full and undivided attention for the first time ever, he suddenly saw what Arthur had tried to explain to him time and time again. She had a kind of energy about her that just radiated goodness and warmth. It was enticing, and Charles found himself wanting to make joke after joke if it meant she would keep laughing like that.  

 “Here, some sweats and a sweater should be good, we can match” he laughed shyly while tossing the clothes on the bed. 

 “That’s perfect, merci” she picked up the clothes and fumbled with them awkwardly, “euhm, Can I-...” 

 “Shit, sorry, yeah I’ll just uh-..let you get, you know..” Charles wanted to slap himself because of the ridiculous hand gestures he was making, but he opted for just scurrying to the living room and closing the bedroom door behind him. “Okay, that was awkward. Why did I make that awkward? I'm an idiot” he muttered to himself while retaking his place on the sofa. When Y/N emerged from his room in his clothes, Charles felt a strange feeling inside his chest. Like he was proud that she was wearing his clothes and not anyone else's. His brain quickly justified the feeling in his chest, he was just… competitive. With his competitors on track, sure, but with his brothers too, so this was probably just a consequence of that.  

 “Do you still play?” she asked as she gestured towards the grand piano in the corner of the living room. Charles loved that thing, especially playing it during a sunset, because it was planted right in front of a huge window that gave a fantastic view over the harbor. 

 “Yeah, I try to, but since I’m always traveling, not as much as I’d like” 

Y/N walked over to the piano, sat down and pressed a few keys before speaking up again. 

 “I used to play as a kid, but it's been so long, can you teach me?”  

 “Uhm, yeah, sure I can,” Charles replied somewhat nervously. He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling so uneasy. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong, right? She was his friend before this, and they’re allowed to be friends…right? There’s no way Arthur could be upset about this, Charles convinced himself while taking his place on the narrow piano seat. As if his own brain was intent on proving him wrong, a question entered his mind, would Charles be upset if Arthur did this with the girl he’s been crushing on for about half of his life? Before he had time to mull the question over, he felt Y/Ns arm brush his own as she sat down next to him. As he started going over the basic principles, Charles made a point of using all the fancy sounding Italian terminology to explain what his hands were doing. Though this probably would suffice to impress any other girl, he could see Y/N trying to hold back the knowing grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. As her fingers started hesitantly pressing the keys, it didn’t take long for a faulty note to disrupt the melodic tune that Charles had come up with. 

 “Okay, I’m a lost cause I think” she laughed 

 “No, you’re doing great for a beginner” Charles retorted while giving her shoulder a playful nudge with his own, “here, I’ll help”. Charles captured one of Y/Ns hands in his own and guided them over the keys gracefully. After a while, he let go again and she finished the rest of the tune on her own faultlessly. 

 “Yes, great! I should’ve been your teacher all along, huh?” 

 “Oh my god! That was a great idea, makes it so much easier” she squealed, and then looked down with a knowing smile. Charles felt like he was missing a joke, and Y/N must have noticed his questioning expression. 

 “If you would have been my teacher, I never would have quit” she says sincerely, while turning her head so she could look him in the eyes, and Charles fails to find the words to give her an appropriate response. He suddenly has the urge to diffuse the tension that had been steadily building ever since he opened his front door. 

 “You want to, euh, watch a movie or something?”  

 It’s not even 10 minutes into the generic romcom when Charles realizes that this was a terrible idea. The contrast between them being so close when playing piano, to being several feet apart on the sofa didn’t feel right to Charles. He wanted to talk to her again, to make her laugh again, and maybe…touch her hand again. God, what was wrong with him? Why is he feeling like this suddenly? It’s not right, he’s probably just lonely and tired, Charles thought to himself. Because of his inner turmoil, he was now fidgeting and awkwardly peering at Y/N from the corner of his eye every few minutes. Luckily for him, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his weird behavior, and after about half an hour Charles noticed that her eyes were slowly fluttering shut as she slumped back into the sofa. 

 “Getting sleepy, aren’t we?” 

 “I’m…m’up, I swear” she replied quietly 

 “Okay, you’re blurring your words together, i think it’s time for bed, don’t you think? You can take my bed, I’ll just crash on the couch” 

 It took several seconds of complete silence for Charles to realize that she had somehow truly fallen asleep during their conversation. He watched her chest rise and fall rhythmically and he debated just leaving her there because she looked so peaceful and he didn’t want to ruin it. But ultimately, he decided against it. He likes to believe it's because she would probably wake up cold or that she would find him rude for letting her crash on the couch while he slept in his king size bed, but Charles knew that would be a lie. In actuality, he had already grown attached to the idea of seeing her sleeping in his bed. So, he gently picked her up from the couch and did his best not to wake her while carrying her to his bedroom. She stirred slightly but was clearly too exhausted to put up any sort of fight to his actions. When he laid her down on his bed and tucked her in, he felt content with the decision he’d made. There was no way he would be able to sleep for a few hours anyway, so he could watch some more tv while she slept soundly. Charles muttered a quiet “goodnight” and turned back toward the bedroom door, but before he could move, he felt a hand grab his wrist. 

 “Charles…please stay” Y/N said as she stared up at him with tired eyes. 

 “...what?” Charles felt his throat dry up as he looked at her, shocked. 

 “Can you please just…stay?” 

 He could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn’t even know the reasons why she was asking him this, just like Charles didn’t know why he obliged and got under the covers next to her. On any other day, having a pretty girl in his bed would be the most natural and logical thing that could happen to him, but now, his mind was racing at 100 miles an hour. He liked that they were close again, but the feeling that they were crossing some sort of invisible line was now impossible to ignore. Y/N moved closer to him and turned around so they were facing each other. 

 “Is this okay?” she asked. It was a question that could be interpreted in numerous ways. Was he ok with being in bed with her? With sleeping next to her? Yes. Was this normal for two friends? Debatable. Would Arthur be hurt if he saw them now? 

Charles couldn’t bring himself to answer the last question, so he chose to just listen to the feeling in his chest that was telling him this is exactly where he should be right now. Before long, Y/N was sleeping again, and Charles was left staring at her fondly and wondering what the hell was happening. 

 The next few weeks went by in a blur. After waking up pretty much entangled in each other's arms the next morning, followed by a somewhat awkward breakfast where neither of them wanted to acknowledge what exactly had taken place the night before, Y/N had convinced Charles that they simply needed to finish the movie. She stayed over another night, and another one, and…another one. Days turned into weeks, and Charles couldn’t remember the last time he had been so happy. Neither of them had brought up Arthur, and Charles wasn’t planning on it either.  Sure, she was Arthur's friend, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be good friends too right? I mean, it’s not like Arthur…owns her or anything. Charles repeatedly told himself that he wouldn’t let it go any further than this. They could just hang out, as friends, and occasionally sleep in the same bed and cuddle, you know, as…friends? 

 Yeah, that plan first fell through about a week before he had to leave for Belgium. He was giving her another piano lesson, and the intimacy of being so close to her for what felt like hours on end became too much for him to handle. Her smell, her laugh, her hands dancing over the keys, everything about her. Charles planted a gentle kiss on her shoulder, and she kept playing while trying to suppress a smile and the blush that crept up her beautiful face. He took that as his cue to continue, and started trailing his lips up the side of her neck until he reached her face. When he did, she finally stopped playing and turned slightly so they were face to face. Then, they kissed. Charles doesn’t remember who kissed who, it felt more like a mutual decision if anything. He can still feel the way her hands crept up his throat and tangled themselves in his hair. From that moment on, Charles was done for. He spent his remaining days in Monaco with Y/N, boat rides, more movies, ordering food together, getting her to have a go in his racing sim. Over the course of a few weeks, she had become one of the most important people in his life. If there had been even a small chance that Charles could stop this before someone got hurt, which was already doubtful, it completely vanished the night before he left for Belgium. Charles took Y/N to a small deserted beach that he considered one of Monaco's best kept secrets. He had planned a cute picnic during sunset, only to forget a blanket to sit on, which led to them almost crying from laughter because all of their food now had a considerable amount of sand in it. Despite this, it was everything he had wanted it to be. Just like on their first night together, it suddenly started pouring rain, forcing them to seek refuge in his car. That night, they made love for the first time in the backseat of his car. Charles decided to actively ignore the feeling of guilt that had been brewing in his stomach for days now. He pushed it away and locked it behind a door to open some other day, because today, all he wanted to focus on was her, and the way she made him feel. 

 “You make me so happy” Y/N had mumbled in the crook of his neck. If it was possible, Charles would live in this moment forever. He would stay in this car, hiding from the rain, and holding her in his arms for as long as humanly possible. But just like with all moments, good or bad, it comes to an end eventually, and it becomes nothing more than a memory.  

 Istanbul, Turkey, October 2021 

 // Losing her was blue // 

 He didn’t know how long he could keep this up. Charles felt like he was lying to everyone, including himself. He was lying to Arthur, who was completely in the dark about what had transpired in Monaco over the summer. He was lying to Y/N, who thought that she had to keep their relationship top secret only to avoid the press and social media disrupting their privacy. He had convinced her that keeping their feelings strictly between the two of them was kind of romantic in a way, like their little secret. But that sentiment was rapidly losing its appeal for Y/N, and Charles couldn’t blame her. It meant that they had to do the long distance thing, because if she showed up at the track people would undoubtedly start asking questions that Charles did not have an answer for.  

 A few days ago Arthur had facetimed him to catch up. It took him less than 10 minutes to mention Y/N, and when he did, Charles felt the color drain from his face. 

 “You know, I’ve been considering it, and I think you were right” Arthur said matter-of-factly. 

 “That's usually the case…right about what exactly?” 

 “Y/N. I’m gonna tell her how I feel next time I see her in person. I’m away from home so much that there is no use in waiting around for her to make the first move, so I should just go for it” 

 Charles couldn’t even muster a small sound of agreement from his side. His brain was screaming at him to just tell him the truth. They always say honesty is the best policy, but no matter how hard he tried, Charles couldn’t get the words out. Instead, he just gave a small nod and changed the subject. After that, Charles tried his best to keep himself as busy as possible with Sunday's race, because every minute he had alone with his thoughts was spent contemplating how he would get himself out of this situation. Seeing Arthur's face when talking about Y/N had completely ruined the idea that he could ever be happy for them if they told him the truth. He would end up hurt. So, the other option was telling Y/N, which meant she would get hurt. There was no way to resolve this without someone being emotionally afflicted, including himself.  Every time Charles thought he had made up his mind, he would get a text from Arthur or a picture from Y/N wishing him good luck, and it wasn’t making this any easier for him. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t confide in someone about his situation, so he found himself knocking on the hotel room door of the first person he could think of. 

 “Dude, you look like hell. Are you okay?” Lando said, standing in his doorway with a worried expression. 

 “Yeah, I uh,haven't really been sleeping well. Can I come in? I need some…advice” 

 Charles trusted Lando. They were good enough friends that Lando would have Charles best interest at heart, but not so close that he would have a reason to somehow insert himself in the situation. He could look at it from an outsider standpoint, because he didn’t know Arthur or Y/N, so he could form his opinion without all of the…feelings involved. Charles told him everything. Arthur's childhood crush, that rainy night in Monaco, the cuddling, and the car…thing after the picnic. He told her how she made him feel, how happy he was when she was around, but also how horrible he felt whenever he saw or heard from his brother. It felt good, like saying the words out loud had already lessened the weight on his shoulders. 

 “I just can’t get her out of my head. I don’t think I want to. All I want is to give her everything she’s ever wanted” Charles said while running his hand through his hair in frustration. 

 “Yeah, sounds like you love her mate” Lando replied nonchalantly. 

 “...Maybe I do” Deep down, Charles already knew long before tonight that he loved Y/N, but hearing the words from Lando’s mouth made it…real. 

 “Listen, I get that this is a shitty situation, but as your friend, I’m just gonna tell you what I would do. Okay, so maybe you love her, but it's only been a few months right? If you break it off now, the both of you will move on in like..a few months or something, and it will just be a…vacation love type thing, you know? Yeah, it's gonna suck, but is it really worse than having to tell your brother about this? He’s your family, and nothing is more important than family” Lando finishes his monologue with a consoling pat on Charles’ back. 

 As much as it pained him to admit it, Lando was right. Y/N was young, and soon enough, Charles would become a distant memory in his love life. The possibility of her dating other guys (or even worse, realizing that she does have romantic feelings for Arthur), made Charles' heart sink in a way that he had never experienced before. Arthur was his family, and he could never betray him like this. Even if Arthur somehow found it in himself to forgive him, it would never be the same as before. For the first time in months, Charles saw with unwavering clarity what he had to do. He had to break Y/N's heart, in such a way that she would never even entertain the idea of being romantically involved with him. She didn’t deserve it, but she also didn’t deserve being hidden away and lied to like he was doing now. So, instead, he would have to rip off the bandaid, and break both of their hearts in the proces. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco, October 2021 

 The Ferrari team almost had a heart attack when Charles said he wanted to make a ‘quick stop’ in Monaco before Austin, but after convincing them that it was a family emergency, they quickly let him leave without further protest. Usually, going home was one of his favorite things to do, but in this instance, he would rather be anywhere else. His body went on near auto-pilot when he dragged himself into a taxi and ascended the stairs leading to Y/N’s front door. When she opened the door, she did exactly what Charles had been dreading the entire journey here. She smiled, so wide and genuinely Charles almost forgot about his entire plan. He couldn’t back out now, he couldn’t be selfish. No, he had to think about Arthur, and keeping his family together. He had already lost too many people over the years, so no matter how much it was going to hurt, he had to follow through. 

 “What are you doing here?!” Y/n squealed in disbelief as she hugged him tightly. Charles gently hugged her back, but not in the way he would want to. He made a conscious effort to remember the smell of her shampoo now that her hair was so close to him, because this will probably be the last time he ever smells it. 

 “I uh, I came because I wanted to talk to you” he says as she lets him go. He can immediately see that she had picked up on his dejected tone and behavior in general, and she moved aside so he could enter the house. Once in the living room, Charles started talking before he even had the chance to sit down, as if he wanted to get ahead of himself before looking at her for too long made him change his mind. 

 “Charles, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

 “I-uh- I don’t know how to say this so I’m just gonna get it out. We shouldn’t do…this anymore. No, we..we can’t do this anymore” he forced the words out while looking down at his own feet. 

 “What? You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking” 

 “I’m not joking, Y/N. This was…a mistake” 

 Y/N laughs, but it’s not the laugh that Charles loves so much. It’s not the one he dreams about, the one he would move mountains for if it meant he could hear it everyday of his life. It was bitter, and filled with disbelief. 

 “What are you talking about? A mistake? I’ve never been this happy in my entire life! And don’t you dare stand there and say that you didn’t feel the same, because I know that’s a lie. I know it’s a lie because I was there. I was there at the piano, on the beach, in the car..” she says with tears already clouding her eyes. Charles hadn’t  considered that he would have to see her cry. He had never seen her cry before, and once again he felt his conviction falter. He had to fight every fiber in his being to keep himself from taking her in his arms and do everything in his power to make her laugh again…but he couldn’t. 

 “You deserve better than me, Y/N. I’m never home and we can’t ever be a public couple. With the..press and the fans, you wouldn’t be able to live your life in peace anymore. It’s not fair to you” Charles was technically telling the truth. The exposure was one of the reasons why their relationship would be difficult, but it wasn’t the only reason. He decided to not tell her about Arthur, that way she could someday make up her own mind about her feelings for him without Charles clouding her judgment. 

 “You don’t mean that. Charles, fucking look at me, you don’t mean that” Y/N stepped forward and clasped her hands around Charles’ face, forcing him to look at her. Charles just weakly shook his head in response. 

 “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N” 

She nodded and let go of him. The expression on her beautiful face quickly changed from determination to defeat as she stepped away from him once again. 

 “Yeah, well, how’s that working out for you?” 

 Charles didn’t have an answer, and as he looked at Y/N, the sparkle that had drawn him to her was seemingly fading away before his very eyes. It broke his heart that he was the culprit, but his own pain felt deserved. He had earned every punishment that came his way for keeping information from her and for hurting her in the proces. 

 “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me like you feel fucking sorry for me, I don’t need your pity. You barge in here unannounced when I thought that you were on the other side of the world, only to abandon me without an explanation? And the only thing you can do is stand here and look at me like you just made me drop my ice cream in kindergarten or something?” 

 Charles didn’t know what to say. He really should have prepared for this moment more than he did. Choosing to not tell her about Arthur meant that he now seemed like a total dick, but maybe that was for the best. It would make it easier for her to let him go. 

 “You can’t just play with my feelings because you're unsure of yours” she added. She sounded so dejected that it made Charles want to cry too. He wanted to take back his words, to grab her by the arms and shake her while screaming that he is sure about his feelings. That he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. That he loves her. His hands squeezed into fists to stop himself from moving closer to her, because he has to see this through. All he had to do is make it out of that door without telling her the truth, and she would hate him. She would hate him, while he loved her. 

 “Y/N,...I-..I don’t know w-” 

 “You don’t know what to say? Well I do. Please, just, get out of my house” she said while she turned around and let herself drop down onto her sofa. Charles took the opportunity to run. He cast one last look behind him, and he could tell she was crying again. His feet carried him to the hallway, to the front door, and eventually down her driveway. Before he knew it, he was back at his apartment where he was supposed to catch a few hours of sleep before his flight, but Charles knew he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. He’d done what he came here to do, yet he had never felt more empty in his life. 

 He caught his flight the next day, and as he saw the distance being put between him and Monaco, between him and her, the empty feeling only got worse. He had arrived in Monaco a man, convinced that he was doing the right thing, but he left without a heart. It would stay in Monaco, in his apartment, on that piano seat, and it would never reside in his chest again. 

// Missing her was dark grey // 

                             // But loving her was red 

                              oh, red 

                              Burning red // 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I enjoyed reading your posts about Napoleon’s death and it’s quite timely given its the 200th anniversary of his death this year in May. I was wondering, because you know a lot about military history (your served right? That’s cool to fly combat helicopters) and you live in France but aren’t French, what your take was on Napoleon and how do the French view him? Do they hail him as a hero or do they like others see him like a Hitler or a Stalin? Do you see him as a hero or a villain of history?

5 May 1821 was a memorable date because Napoleon, one of the most iconic figures in world history, died while in bitter exile on a remote island in the South Atlantic Ocean. Napoleon Bonaparte, as you know rose from obscure soldier to a kind of new Caesar, and yet he remains a uniquely controversial figure to this day especially in France. You raise interesting questions about Napoleon and his legacy. If I may reframe your questions in another way. Should we think of him as a flawed but essentially heroic visionary who changed Europe for the better? Or was he simply a military dictator, whose cult of personality and lust for power set a template for the likes of Hitler? 

However one chooses to answer this question can we just - to get this out of the way - simply and definitively say that Napoleon was not Hitler. Not even close. No offence intended to you but this is just dumb ahistorical thinking and it’s a lazy lie. This comparison was made by some in the horrid aftermath of the Second World War but only held little currency for only a short time thereafter. Obviously that view didn’t exist before Hitler in the 19th Century and these days I don’t know any serious historian who takes that comparison seriously.

I confess I don’t have a definitive answer if he was a hero or a villain one way or the other because Napoleon has really left a very complicated legacy. It really depends on where you’re coming from.

As a staunch Brit I do take pride in Britain’s victorious war against Napoleonic France - and in a good natured way rubbing it in the noses of French friends at every opportunity I get because it’s in our cultural DNA and it’s bloody good fun (why else would we make Waterloo train station the London terminus of the Eurostar international rail service from its opening in 1994? Or why hang a huge gilded portrait of the Duke of Wellington as the first thing that greets any visitor to the residence of the British ambassador at the British Embassy?). On a personal level I take special pride in knowing my family ancestors did their bit on the battlefield to fight against Napoleon during those tumultuous times. However, as an ex-combat veteran who studied Napoleonic warfare with fan girl enthusiasm, I have huge respect for Napoleon as a brilliant military commander. And to makes things more weird, as a Francophile resident of who loves living and working in France (and my partner is French) I have a grudging but growing regard for Napoleon’s political and cultural legacy, especially when I consider the current dross of political mediocrity on both the political left and the right. So for me it’s a complicated issue how I feel about Napoleon, the man, the soldier, and the political leader.

If it’s not so straightforward for me to answer the for/against Napoleon question then it It’s especially true for the French, who even after 200 years, still have fiercely divided opinions about Napoleon and his legacy - but intriguingly, not always in clear cut ways.

I only have to think about my French neighbours in my apartment building to see how divisive Napoleon the man and his legacy is. Over the past year or so of the Covid lockdown we’ve all gotten to know each other better and we help each other. Over the Covid year we’ve gathered in the inner courtyard for a buffet and just lifted each other spirits up.

One of my neighbours, a crusty old ex-general in the army who has an enviable collection of military history books that I steal, liberate, borrow, often discuss military figures in history like Napoleon over our regular games of chess and a glass of wine. He is from very old aristocracy of the ancien regime and whose family suffered at the hands of ‘madame guillotine’ during the French Revolution. They lost everything. He has mixed emotions about Napoleon himself as an old fashioned monarchist. As a military man he naturally admires the man and the military genius but he despises the secularisation that the French Revolution ushered in as well as the rise of the haute bourgeois as middle managers and bureaucrats by the displacement of the aristocracy.

Another retired widowed neighbour I am close to, and with whom I cook with often and discuss art, is an active arts patron and ex-art gallery owner from a very wealthy family that came from the new Napoleonic aristocracy - ie the aristocracy of the Napoleonic era that Napoleon put in place - but she is dismissive of such titles and baubles. She’s a staunch Republican but is happy to concede she is grateful for Napoleon in bringing order out of chaos. She recognises her own ambivalence when she says she dislikes him for reintroducing slavery in the French colonies but also praises him for firmly supporting Paris’s famed Comédie-Française of which she was a past patron.

Another French neighbour, a senior civil servant in the Elysée, is quite dismissive of Napoleon as a war monger but is grudgingly grateful for civil institutions and schools that Napoleon established and which remain in place today.

My other neighbours - whether they be French families or foreign expats like myself - have similarly divisive and complicated attitudes towards Napoleon.

In 2010 an opinion poll in France asked who was the most important man in French history. Napoleon came second, behind General Charles de Gaulle, who led France from exile during the German occupation in World War II and served as a postwar president.

The split in French opinion is closely mirrored in political circles. The divide is generally down political party lines. On the left, there's the 'black legend' of Bonaparte as an ogre. On the right, there is the 'golden legend' of a strong leader who created durable institutions.

Jacques-Olivier Boudon, a history professor at Paris-Sorbonne University and president of the Napoléon Institute, once explained at a talk I attended that French public opinion has always remained deeply divided over Napoleon, with, on the one hand, those who admire the great man, the conqueror, the military leader and, on the other, those who see him as a bloodthirsty tyrant, the gravedigger of the revolution. Politicians in France, Boudon observed, rarely refer to Napoleon for fear of being accused of authoritarian temptations, or not being good Republicans.

On the left-wing of French politics, former prime minister Lionel Jospin penned a controversial best selling book entitled “the Napoleonic Evil” in which he accused the emperor of “perverting the ideas of the Revolution” and imposing “a form of extreme domination”, “despotism” and “a police state” on the French people. He wrote Napoleon was "an obvious failure" - bad for France and the rest of Europe. When he was booted out into final exile, France was isolated, beaten, occupied, dominated, hated and smaller than before. What's more, Napoleon smothered the forces of emancipation awakened by the French and American revolutions and enabled the survival and restoration of monarchies. Some of the legacies with which Napoleon is credited, including the Civil Code, the comprehensive legal system replacing a hodgepodge of feudal laws, were proposed during the revolution, Jospin argued, though he acknowledges that Napoleon actually delivered them, but up to a point, "He guaranteed some principles of the revolution and, at the same time, changed its course, finished it and betrayed it," For instance, Napoleon reintroduced slavery in French colonies, revived a system that allowed the rich to dodge conscription in the military and did nothing to advance gender equality.

At the other end of the spectrum have been former right-wing prime minister Dominique de Villepin, an aristocrat who was once fancied as a future President, a passionate collector of Napoleonic memorabilia, and author of several works on the subject. As a Napoleonic enthusiast he tells a different story. Napoleon was a saviour of France. If there had been no Napoleon, the Republic would not have survived. Advocates like de Villepin point to Napoleon’s undoubted achievements: the Civil Code, the Council of State, the Bank of France, the National Audit office, a centralised and coherent administrative system, lycées, universities, centres of advanced learning known as école normale, chambers of commerce, the metric system, and an honours system based on merit (which France has to this day). He restored the Catholic faith as the state faith but allowed for the freedom of religion for other faiths including Protestantism and Judaism. These were ambitions unachieved during the chaos of the revolution. As it is, these Napoleonic institutions continue to function and underpin French society. Indeed, many were copied in countries conquered by Napoleon, such as Italy, Germany and Poland, and laid the foundations for the modern state.

Back in 2014, French politicians and institutions in particular were nervous in marking the 200th anniversary of Napoleon's exile. My neighbours and other French friends remember that the commemorations centred around the Chateau de Fontainebleau, the traditional home of the kings of France and was the scene where Napoleon said farewell to the Old Guard in the "White Horse Courtyard" (la cour du Cheval Blanc) at the Palace of Fontainebleau. (The courtyard has since been renamed the "Courtyard of Goodbyes".) By all accounts the occasion was very moving. The 1814 Treaty of Fontainebleau stripped Napoleon of his powers (but not his title as Emperor of the French) and sent him into exile on Elba. The cost of the Fontainebleau "farewell" and scores of related events over those three weekends was shouldered not by the central government in Paris but by the local château, a historic monument and UNESCO World Heritage site, and the town of Fontainebleau.

While the 200th anniversary of the French Revolution that toppled the monarchy and delivered thousands to death by guillotine was officially celebrated in 1989, Napoleonic anniversaries are neither officially marked nor celebrated. For example, over a decade ago, the president and prime minister - at the time, Jacques Chirac and Dominque de Villepin - boycotted a ceremony marking the 200th anniversary of the battle of Austerlitz, Napoleon's greatest military victory. Both men were known admirers of Napoleon and yet political calculation and optics (as media spin doctors say) stopped them from fully honouring Napoleon’s crowning military glory.

Optics is everything. The division of opinion in France is perhaps best reflected in the fact that, in a city not shy of naming squares and streets after historical figures, there is not a single “Boulevard Napoleon” or “Place Napoleon” in Paris. On the streets of Paris, there are just two statues of Napoleon. One stands beneath the clock tower at Les Invalides (a military hospital), the other atop a column in the Place Vendôme. Napoleon's red marble tomb, in a crypt under the Invalides dome, is magnificent, perhaps because his remains were interred there during France's Second Empire, when his nephew, Napoleon III, was on the throne.

There are no squares, nor places, nor boulevards named for Napoleon but as far as I know there is one narrow street, the rue Bonaparte, running from the Luxembourg Gardens to the River Seine in the old Latin Quarter. And, that, too, is thanks to Napoleon III. For many, and I include myself, it’s a poor return by the city to the man who commissioned some of its most famous monuments, including the Arc de Triomphe and the Pont des Arts over the River Seine.

It's almost as if Napoleon Bonaparte is not part of the national story.

How Napoleon fits into that national story is something historians, French and non-French, have been grappling with ever since Napoleon died. The plain fact is Napoleon divides historians, what precisely he represents is deeply ambiguous and his political character is the subject of heated controversy. It’s hard for historians to sift through archival documents to make informed judgements and still struggle to separate the man from the myth.

One proof of this myth is in his immortality. After Hitler’s death, there was mostly an embarrassed silence; after Stalin’s, little but denunciation. But when Napoleon died on St Helena in 1821, much of Europe and the Americas could not help thinking of itself as a post-Napoleonic generation. His presence haunts the pages of Stendhal and Alfred de Vigny. In a striking and prescient phrase, Chateaubriand prophesied the “despotism of his memory”, a despotism of the fantastical that in many ways made Romanticism possible and that continues to this day.

The raw material for the future Napoleon myth was provided by one of his St Helena confidants, the Comte de las Cases, whose account of conversations with the great man came out shortly after his death and ran in repeated editions throughout the century. De las Cases somehow metamorphosed the erstwhile dictator into a herald of liberty, the emperor into a slayer of dynasties rather than the founder of his own. To the “great man” school of history Napoleon was grist to their mill, and his meteoric rise redefined the meaning of heroism in the modern world.

The Marxists, for all their dislike of great men, grappled endlessly with the meaning of the 18th Brumaire; indeed one of France’s most eminent Marxist historians, George Lefebvre, wrote what arguably remains the finest of all biographies of him.

It was on this already vast Napoleon literature, a rich terrain for the scholar of ideas, that the great Dutch historian Pieter Geyl was lecturing in 1940 when he was arrested and sent to Buchenwald. There he composed what became one of the classics of historiography, a seminal book entitled Napoleon: For and Against, which charted how generations of intellectuals had happily served up one Napoleon after another. Like those poor souls who crowded the lunatic asylums of mid-19th century France convinced that they were Napoleon, generations of historians and novelists simply could not get him out of their head.

The debate runs on today no less intensely than in the past. Post-Second World War Marxists would argue that he was not, in fact, revolutionary at all. Eric Hobsbawm, a notable British Marxist historian, argued that ‘Most-perhaps all- of his ideas were anticipated by the Revolution’ and that Napoleon’s sole legacy was to twist the ideals of the French Revolution, and make them ‘more conservative, hierarchical and authoritarian’.

This contrasts deeply with the view William Doyle holds of Napoleon. Doyle described Bonaparte as ‘the Revolution incarnate’ and saw Bonaparte’s humbling of Europe’s other powers, the ‘Ancien Regimes’, as a necessary precondition for the birth of the modern world. Whatever one thinks of Napoleon’s character, his sharp intellect is difficult to deny. Even Paul Schroeder, one of Napoleon’s most scathing critics, who condemned his conduct of foreign policy as a ‘criminal enterprise’ never denied Napoleon’s intellect. Schroder concluded that Bonaparte ‘had an extraordinary capacity for planning, decision making, memory, work, mastery of detail and leadership’.  The question of whether Napoleon used his genius for the betterment or the detriment of the world, is the heart of the debate which surrounds him.

France's foremost Napoleonic scholar, Jean Tulard, put forward the thesis that Bonaparte was the architect of modern France. "And I would say also pâtissier [a cake and pastry maker] because of the administrative millefeuille that we inherited." Oddly enough, in North America the multilayered mille-feuille cake is called ‘a napoleon.’ Tulard’s works are essential reading of how French historians have come to tackle the question of Napoleon’s legacy. He takes the view that if Napoleon had not crushed a Royalist rebellion and seized power in 1799, the French monarchy and feudalism would have returned, Tulard has written. "Like Cincinnatus in ancient Rome, Napoleon wanted a dictatorship of public salvation. He gets all the power, and, when the project is finished, he returns to his plough." In the event, the old order was never restored in France. When Louis XVIII became emperor in 1814, he served as a constitutional monarch.

In England, until recently the views on Napoleon have traditionally less charitable and more cynical. Professor Christopher Clark, the notable Cambridge University European historian, has written. "Napoleon was not a French patriot - he was first a Corsican and later an imperial figure, a journey in which he bypassed any deep affiliation with the French nation," Clark believed Napoleon’s relationship with the French Revolution is deeply ambivalent.

Did he stabilise the revolutionary state or shut it down mercilessly? Clark believes Napoleon seems to have done both. Napoleon rejected democracy, he suffocated the representative dimension of politics, and he created a culture of courtly display. A month before crowning himself emperor, Napoleon sought approval for establishing an empire from the French in a plebiscite; 3,572,329 voted in favour, 2,567 against. If that landslide resembles an election in North Korea, well, this was no secret ballot. Each ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was recorded, along with the name and address of the voter. Evidently, an overwhelming majority knew which side their baguette was buttered on.

His extravagant coronation in Notre Dame in December 1804 cost 8.5 million francs (€6.5 million or $8.5 million in today's money). He made his brothers, sisters and stepchildren kings, queens, princes and princesses and created a Napoleonic aristocracy numbering 3,500. By any measure, it was a bizarre progression for someone often described as ‘a child of the Revolution.’ By crowning himself emperor, the genuine European kings who surrounded him were not convinced. Always a warrior first, he tried to represent himself as a Caesar, and he wears a Roman toga on the bas-reliefs in his tomb. His coronation crown, a laurel wreath made of gold, sent the same message. His icon, the eagle, was also borrowed from Rome. But Caesar's legitimacy depended on military victories. Ultimately, Napoleon suffered too many defeats.

These days Napoleon the man and his times remain very much in fashion and we are living through something of a new golden age of Napoleonic literature. Those historians who over the past decade or so have had fun denouncing him as the first totalitarian dictator seem to have it all wrong: no angel, to be sure, he ended up doing far more at far less cost than any modern despot. In his widely praised 2014 biography, Napoleon the Great, Andrew Roberts writes: “The ideas that underpin our modern world - meritocracy, equality before the law, property rights, religious toleration, modern secular education, sound finances, and so on - were championed, consolidated, codified and geographically extended by Napoleon. To them he added a rational and efficient local administration, an end to rural banditry, the encouragement of science and the arts, the abolition of feudalism and the greatest codification of laws since the fall of the Roman empire.”

Roberts partly bases his historical judgement on newly released historical documents about Napoleon that were only available in the past decade and has proved to be a boon for all Napoleonic scholars. Newly released 33,000 letters Napoleon wrote that still survive are now used extensively to illustrate the astonishing capacity that Napoleon had for compartmentalising his mind - he laid down the rules for a girls’ boarding school on the eve of the battle of Borodino, for example, and the regulations for Paris’s Comédie-Française while camped in the Kremlin. They also show Napoleon’s extraordinary capacity for micromanaging his empire: he would write to the prefect of Genoa telling him not to allow his mistress into his box at the theatre, and to a corporal of the 13th Line regiment warning him not to drink so much.

For me to have my own perspective on Napoleon is tough. The problem is that nothing with Napoleon is simple, and almost every aspect of his personality is a maddening paradox. He was a military genius who led disastrous campaigns. He was a liberal progressive who reinstated slavery in the French colonies. And take the French Revolution, which came just before Napoleon’s rise to power, his relationship with the French Revolution is deeply ambivalent. Did he stabilise it or shut it down? I agree with those British and French historians who now believe Napoleon seems to have done both.

On the one hand, Napoleon did bring order to a nation that had been drenched in blood in the years after the Revolution. The French people had endured the crackdown known as the 'Reign of Terror', which saw so many marched to the guillotine, as well as political instability, corruption, riots and general violence. Napoleon’s iron will managed to calm the chaos. But he also rubbished some of the core principles of the Revolution. A nation which had boldly brought down the monarchy had to watch as Napoleon crowned himself Emperor, with more power and pageantry than Louis XVI ever had. He also installed his relatives as royals across Europe, creating a new aristocracy. In the words of French politician and author Lionel Jospin, 'He guaranteed some principles of the Revolution and at the same time, changed its course, finished it and betrayed it.'

He also had a feared henchman in the form of Joseph Fouché, who ran a secret police network which instilled dread in the population. Napoleon’s spies were everywhere, stifling political opposition. Dozens of newspapers were suppressed or shut down. Books had to be submitted for approval to the Commission of Revision, which sounds like something straight out of George Orwell. Some would argue Hitler and Stalin followed this playbook perfectly. But here come the contradictions. Napoleon also championed education for all, founding a network of schools. He championed the rights of the Jews. In the territories conquered by Napoleon, laws which kept Jews cooped up in ghettos were abolished. 'I will never accept any proposals that will obligate the Jewish people to leave France,' he once said, 'because to me the Jews are the same as any other citizen in our country.'

He also, crucially, developed the Napoleonic Code, a set of laws which replaced the messy, outdated feudal laws that had been used before. The Napoleonic Code clearly laid out civil laws and due processes, establishing a society based on merit and hard work, rather than privilege. It was rolled out far beyond France, and indisputably helped to modernise Europe. While it certainly had its flaws – women were ignored by its reforms, and were essentially regarded as the property of men – the Napoleonic Code is often brandished as the key evidence for Napoleon’s progressive credentials. In the words of historian Andrew Roberts, author of Napoleon the Great, 'the ideas that underpin our modern world… were championed by Napoleon'.

What about Napoleon’s battlefield exploits? If anything earns comparisons with Hitler, it’s Bonaparte’s apparent appetite for conquest. His forces tore down republics across Europe, and plundered works of art, much like the Nazis would later do. A rampant imperialist, Napoleon gleefully grabbed some of the greatest masterpieces of the Renaissance, and allegedly boasted, 'the whole of Rome is in Paris.'

Napoleon has long enjoyed a stellar reputation as a field commander – his capacities as a military strategist, his ability to read a battle, the painstaking detail with which he made sure that he cold muster a larger force than his adversary or took maximum advantage of the lie of the land – these are stuff of the military legend that has built up around him. It is not without its critics, of course, especially among those who have worked intensively on the later imperial campaigns, in the Peninsula, in Russia, or in the final days of the Empire at Waterloo.

Doubts about his judgment, and allegations of rashness, have been raised in the context of some of his victories, too, most notably, perhaps, at Marengo. But overall his reputation remains largely intact, and his military campaigns have been taught in the curricula of military academies from Saint-Cyr to Sandhurst, alongside such great tacticians as Alexander the Great and Hannibal.

Historians may query his own immodest opinion that his presence on the battlefield was worth an extra forty thousand men to his cause, but it is clear that when he was not present (as he was not for most of the campaign in Spain) the French were wont to struggle. Napoleon understood the value of speed and surprise, but also of structures and loyalties. He reformed the army by introducing the corps system, and he understood military aspirations, rewarding his men with medals and honours; all of which helped ensure that he commanded exceptional levels of personal loyalty from his troops.

Yet, I do find it hard to side with the more staunch defenders of Napoleon who say his reputation as a war monger is to some extent due to British propaganda at the time. They will point out that the Napoleonic Wars, far from being Napoleon’s fault, were just a continuation of previous conflicts that arose thanks to the French Revolution. Napoleon, according to this analysis, inherited a messy situation, and his only real crime was to be very good at defeating enemies on the battlefield. I think that is really pushing things too far. I mean deciding to invade Spain and then Russia were his decisions to invade and conquer.

He was, by any measure, a genius of war. Even his nemesis the Duke of Wellington, when asked who the greatest general of his time was, replied: 'In this age, in past ages, in any age, Napoleon.'

I will qualify all this and agree that Napoleon’s Russian campaign has been rightly held up as a fatal folly which killed so many of his men, but this blunder – epic as it was – should not be compared to Hitler’s wars of evil aggression. Most historians will agree that comparing the two men is horribly flattering to Hitler - a man fuelled by visceral, genocidal hate - and demeaning to Napoleon, who was a product of Enlightenment thinking and left a legacy that in many ways improved Europe.

Napoleon was, of course, no libertarian, and no pluralist. He would tolerate no opposition to his rule, and though it was politicians and civilians who imposed his reforms, the army was never far behind. But comparisons with twentieth-century dictators are well wide of the mark. While he insisted on obedience from those he administered, his ideology was based not on division or hatred, but on administrative efficiency and submission to the law. And the state he believed in remained stubbornly secular.

In Catholic southern Europe, of course, that was not an approach with which it was easy to acquiesce; and disorder, insurgency and partisan attacks can all be counted among the results. But these were principles on which the Emperor would not and could not give ground. If he had beliefs they were not religious or spiritual beliefs, but the secular creed of a man who never forgot that he owed both his military career and his meteoric political rise to the French Revolution, and who never quite abandoned, amidst the monarchical symbolism and the court pomp of the Empire, the republican dreams of his youth. When he claimed, somewhat ambiguously, after the coup of 18 Brumaire that `the Revolution was over’, he almost certainly meant that the principles of 1789 had at last been consummated, and that the continuous cycle of violence of the 1790s could therefore come to an end.

When the Empire was declared in 1804, the wording, again, might seem curious, the French being informed that the `Republic would henceforth be ruled by an Emperor’. Napoleon might be a dictator, but a part at least of him remained a son of the Enlightenment.

The arguments over Napoleon’s status will continue - and that in itself is a testament to the power of one of the most complex figures ever to straddle the world’s stage.

Will the fascination with Napoleon continue for another 200 years?

In France, at least, enthusiasm looks set to diminish. Napoleon and his exploits are scarcely mentioned in French schools anymore. Stéphane Guégan, curator of the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, which, among other First Empire artworks, houses a plaster model of Napoleon dressed as a Roman emperor astride a horse, has described France's fascination with him as ‘a national illness.’ He believes that the people who met him were fascinated by his charm. And today, even the most hostile to Napoleon also face this charm. So there is a difficulty to apprehend the duality of this character. As he wrote, “He was born from the revolution, he extended and finished it, and after 1804 he turns into a despot, a dictator.”

In France, Guégan aptly observes, there is a kind of nostalgia, not for dictatorship but for strong leaders. "Our age is suffering a lack of imagination and political utopia,"

Here I think Guégan is onto something. Napoleon’s stock has always risen or fallen according to the vicissitudes of world events and fortunes of France itself.

In the past, history was the study of great men and women. Today the focus of teaching is on trends, issues and movements. France in 1800 is no longer about Louis XVI and Napoleon Bonaparte. It's about the industrial revolution. Man does not make history. History makes men. Or does it? The study of history makes a mug out of those with such simple ideological driven conceits.

For two hundred years on, the French still cannot agree on whether Napoleon was a hero or a villain as he has swung like a pendulum according to the gravitational pull of historical events and forces.

The question I keep asking of myself and also to French friends with whom I discuss such things is what kind of Napoleon does our generation need?

Thanks for your question.

[sour--disposition]

Bad Girlfriend

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harry lewis x fem!reader

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@ketamineharry suggested a harry imagine based off of Anne-Marie’s Bad Girlfriend and voila

please check my pinned post for request/prompt info and my masterlist

You cancel plans for me - I cancel ours on you - Say I'd be back early - I don't get in 'til 2 - You ask me where I've been - I tell you something vague - Think I messed up again - What can I say

You were sick and tired of Harry and his behaviour. When you first got together, you chalked his actions up to being young and dumb. And then to getting used to having more money. Then you blamed it on having to deal with so much at such a young age. 

The excuses piled up, one on top of the other. You knew one day it would all come toppling down around you, drowning you and Harry in a sea of problems that you doubted you’d be able to survive. You’d excused cheating, been by his side during hangovers from hell and comedowns that took too long to make Harry realise that the high really wasn’t worth the pain. You’d rubbed his back and handed him bottles of water and paracetamol and nursed him back to health, only for him to go and get in the same state the next weekend and expect you to help him gather the pieces back together again.

You’d tried to patch things up. Every time that you went to Harry to air all your concerns, tell him that if he doesn’t get his act together that you’d leave, and he always promised that things would be better this time. But something would always happen. There’d be plans he’d forget or cancel. He’d get too drunk and end up with hands over another girl’s body. 

“Ooh, you look nice”, Harry commented as soon as you answered his FaceTime call. “What are you doing?”, he asked you.

“I’m off out with some girls from uni tonight”, you told him as you stood up from the sofa and started gathering your things together.

“I thought you were coming over?”, he said, a small pout forming on his lips.

“Sorry”, you said nonchalantly. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah”, you told him half-heartedly.

“Yeah, whatever”, Harry huffed. “Come back here after?”, he suggested.

“Sure”, you said, a small smile on your lips. “I’ve gotta go, their taxi just pulled up. Love you”, you rushed out, hanging up and shoving your phone into your clutch, along with your keys, card and some cash.

Harry 💕: where are you it’s 11?

Harry💕: y/n c’mon i miss you

Harry💕: am i waiting up for you or not?

Harry💕: its 2am

You didn’t read the texts until you were swaying on the spot in the lift of Harry’s apartment building. Your vision was fuzzy as you tried to find the right key for their front door. “Y/N?”, Harry asked, opening the door.

“Hey”, you slurred, stumbling towards him. “I couldn’t see your key”, you told him.

“Where’ve you even been?”, Harry asked, voice dripping with distaste and disappointment.

“Here, there, everywhere”, you giggled. 

“Come on, go to bed”, Harry said sternly. “I have a shoot tomorrow and Josh will kill me if I’m late or lacking”, he told you.

“Oh, I am so very sorry”, you drawled, exaggerating all of your words, much to your own amusement.

“I’m not being funny, Y/N. Go to bed or go home”, Harry said sharply.

Your face dropped, the small square inch of your brain that was yet to be drenched in vodka and whatever else you’d been drinking lit up with anger. “Fine”, you snapped. You stormed down the hallway, sure of your footing this time and not stumbling once.

“Where are you going?”, Harry called after you.

“Home!”, you shouted, wrenching the front door open and slamming it behind you as hard as you could.

You shivered in the cold, late night wind of London as you waited on the curbside for your taxi. As soon as the car pulled up, you slid into the backseat and rattled off your address. The street lights and neon signs of London passed by in a blur of alcohol and anger and regret. “Thanks. Keep the change”, you muttered, handing a note over to the driver and getting out of the taxi.

Once you’d got back into your apartment, you changed into some pyjamas and took your make-up off as quickly as possible. You crawled under the covers, pulling them around your body and getting comfy in the middle of your bed. 

Part of you felt a little guilty for how you’d treated Harry, but a bigger part of you couldn’t find the effort to care. You’d put up with Harry acting like this for 6 years, he could tolerate you doing it once or twice.

-

You wanna meet my friends - I say another day

“Another day, Harry”, you sighed, heavily, turning back to the work you were trying to get done for your classes.

“You always say that. You’ve been on this course for, like, a year”, Harry whined.

“I know but I really need to focus on work at the moment, Harry”, you told him. “I started my degree later than I wanted to anyway and then I didn’t commit to it like I should have last year because of…”, you trailed off.  “Another day”.

“Because of what?”, Harry asked, voice taking a combative edge as he sat up straighter.

“Harry, I don’t want to get into this again”, you sighed heavily, slumping into your chair.

“Well, you started it!”, he argued. “So finish your sentence. Go on!”, he goaded.

“I couldn’t commit to my degree because I was too busy looking after you!”, you shouted. “Is that what you wanted? Me to lash out? Fucking well done”, you spat. You gathered up your things as quick as you could, closing your book and shoving things into your bag.

“Where are you going now?”, Harry asked frustratedly.

“Home. I have an essay to do for next week”, you muttered as you shoved past Harry.

Things between you and Harry were only getting worse. You knew about the other girls, but the both of you just pretended that you didn’t. All of his friends saw Harry as some sheepish kid with a loud mouth girlfriend, but they never got to see the Harry that you were seeing more and more. The Harry that held things from years ago against you, the Harry that was becoming more controlling by the day, the Harry that would raise his voice when things went even slightly not his way… The Harry that wasn’t the same Harry that you fell in love with.

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'Cause I'm one in a million - More like in a billion - I don't think it's cheating if I'm kissing other women - I do some shit you can't forgive - And you better get used to it

The more you and Harry argued, the more his friends didn’t like you. They hid it well, especially Simon and Josh since you were such good friends with Talia and Freya. But you noticed the side glances you’d get anytime you laughed a little louder than usual, any time you’d say something that would make Talia or Freya cackle. You’d notice the looks that they would send Harry when you had the audacity to go and dance and your own, or when you’d be on your phone whilst everyone else was fighting to keep you out of the conversation.

You had no doubt in your mind that Harry was telling them bare-faced lies about you and hiding the truth about himself. You knew that they had no clue about Harry’s cheating, about how bad his drinking and substance abuse had truly been, how much he actually relied on you for day to day functioning. All they knew was that you were loud, argumentative and didn't give Harry the time of day when it came to uni work.

“Do you think she knows she’s punching?”, you heard Ethan ask JJ.

“I mean, it’s so obvious. Harry’s miles out of her league. C’mon man!”, JJ laughed in reply.

You looked to Harry to see his reaction. You knew he’d heard what was said, but based on the look on his face, he couldn’t care less. You didn’t need the validation from your boyfriend’s best friends, but it would be nice if your boyfriend would at least defend you or reassure you.

You rolled your eyes and turned to leave the table, heading towards the toilets. You were facing the mirror, touching up your hair and make-up, when Freya and Talia walked in. “What happened?”, Talia asked.

You told them what you’d heard and watched as their faces contorted into looks of horror. “Oh my god!”, Freya exclaimed. “What did Harry say!?”, she asked, coming closer to hold you hand supportively.

Your silence answered their question perfectly. “I can’t believe him”, Talia huffed, wrapping her arms around you.

“Things haven’t been great, but I never thought he’d just sit and let his best friends slag me off practically to my face”, you told them. Your eyes were watery.

“Hey, babe. Don’t let your mascara run”, a dark haired girl told you, handing you a tissue. “Whoever is letting someone slag you off is stupid”, she assured you.

“My boyfriend”, you said sadly. 

“I hate boys”, she laughed darkly, rolling her eyes, before rejoining her group of friends.

You, Talia and Freya emerged from the toilets around 5 minutes later, once you were sure that your tears had dried and weren’t going to restart. The three of you walked towards the table, Freya and Talia immediately sliding next to Josh and Simon.

“Where’s Harry?”, you asked, not seeing him anywhere. Ethan gave you a look and pointed towards the dancefloor before turning back to his conversation with JJ and Vik.

You glanced over towards the dancefloor, hoping you’d see Harry. Thankfully, he was towards the edge, back turned towards you. You watched as he turned around, ready to try and grab his attention. His eyes met yours, briefly filling with panic, before darting back down to the girl in his arms.

“Fuck this”, you muttered, as Harry’s friends and Freya and Talia all watched as he tried to assess the situation and what to do.

He watched as you walked closer, looking ready to send the stranger away. Harry’s eyes followed you as you sailed past him and towards the middle of the dance floor. You could feel eyes on you as you began dancing to the music, letting the beat mix with the alcohol and take over your body.

“Did you sort things with your boyfriend?”, a female voice asked. It was the girl from the bathroom. You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully at her.

“No”, you snorted. “I came to speak to him and he was all over another girl”, you told her. Your eyes darted over to where you’d last seen Harry. “That’s him there, sucking face with the blonde”.

“I hope he’s your ex-boyfriend now”, she told you, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s complicated”, you admitted, looking down in shame. It wasn’t news to you that you were letting Harry treat you like a doormat, but you had yet to muster up the courage to leave him. Just as you looked up, ready to offer to explain it over a drink, someone behind you shoved you, sending you catapulting into the girl’s arms.

“Careful there, can’t have you falling for me already. I’ve not even started flirting yet”, she told you with a smirk. “Martha”, she said politely, holding out a hand.

“Y/N”, you told her with a shy smile as you accepted her outstretched hand.

“Care for a dance?”, Martha asked you, pulling you closer with the hand that was still in hers.

You didn’t care if Harry and his friends watched as your bodies rolled together. Harry had never danced with you on a night out like this, never held you shamelessly in a club for everyone to see. Harry had never held your face so securely as he pulled you in for a kiss in front of everyone around you.

“What the fuck, Y/N?”, you heard beside you.

“Is this the boyfriend?”, Martha asked once she’d pulled back and let her eyes flutter open, eyeing Ethan up and down as soon as she had.

“The boyfriend’s best friend”, you told her, preparing to step out of her hold.

“Last time I checked, the boyfriend was preoccupied with someone else. Get him to come and find me when he wants his girlfriend. We’ll be right here”, she said, voice powerful and allowing no argument as her arms held you closer.

Harry never came to find you. The two of you left the club in separate taxis and you left with a new number saved in your phone.

-

You should be with someone else - Someone who is not myself

“Harry, you deserve so much better”, you heard a voice say as you walked into Harry’s apartment. You walked down the hallway quietly, lingering just behind the door frame to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“We’ve been together for so long, though”, Harry sighed.

“Did you not see what she did the other night? She was all over some other chick!”, a voice, Simon’s, exclaimed.

“Maybe it was just a mistake, y’know”, Harry tried to reason.

“She’s not good for you, Harry”, JJ, this time, said.

You’d heard enough. You turned the corner, coming face to face with all 7 of the boys. “Y/N…”, Harry trailed off.

“No, no. Carry on talking about me, it’s fine”, you said, voice lathered in artificial sweetness.

“Damnit, Y/N, it wasn’t like that”, Harry snapped, surprising everyone but you. “What are you doing?”, he asked as you started gathering a blanket off of the back of the sofa and plucking a hoodie off of the back of a dining room chair..

“Getting my shit and going”, you hissed.

“You’re being dramatic”, Harry scolded.

“No, Harry. I’ve put up with your bullshit since we were 18. I’m sick and tired of it. I’ve put my life on hold for long enough. You need someone, but I’m not that someone anymore. I’m sick of looking after you and letting your friends hate me just because you’re too much of a coward to tell them the truth”, you spat.

“We know everything, Y/N”, Ethan said smugly, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

“So you know that I started my degree late because I had to get Harry sober? You know that he’s cheated on me more times than I can count? You know that I’ve tried for 6 fucking years to get him to love me as much as I love him and it’s never fucking worked!?”, you all but yelled, shocking everyone in front of you.

“You think I don’t love you?”, Harry asked, voice frustrated and angry.

“I know that you don’t love me as much as I love you”, you told him simply. “You cancelled 3 anniversary dates to go on nights out with the guys. You made me cancel a weekend away because you wanted to go to Dubai. You get annoyed when I try to do my uni work. You let Ethan and JJ slag me off, practically to my face, and didn’t say a fucking word”, you told him.

You looked at Harry, waiting for a reaction. “Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear my boyfriend’s best friends, people I’ve known for 6 years, say that I’m punching and that you deserve better? Did you think about how much it hurt me when you didn’t even flinch at what they said?”.

Harry’s face lit up in anger. “It’s not like you’ve been a good girlfriend!”, he spat.

“Because being a good girlfriend to you is like a full time job. It’s a full time job and I haven’t had a day off in over 5 years. So yeah, I’ve been a bad girlfriend… Boo fucking hoo”, you grumbled.

Harry remained silent, a sheepish look crossing his face. “We can try again”, he suggested quietly.

“We have! Over and over again!”, you exclaimed, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m exhausted, Harry. I’m tired of looking after you when I’m just as hungover as you. I’m tired of not making plans because I literally can not afford for you to cancel on me anymore. You don’t value me or anything that I do. Your friends hate me and you don’t care. I’ve been your last priority for years and I’m sick of it. We’re done. I’ll put your stuff in a box and bring it round”, you told him, voice losing more and more strength as you spoke.

“Y/N…”, Harry tried, reaching for your arm.

“Don’t”.

[helnjk]

Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader 

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork. 

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf. 

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true. 

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together. 

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store. 

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that. 

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave. 

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above. 

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?” 

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.” 

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley. 

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships. 

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence. 

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?” 

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet! 

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said. 

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!” 

“So tell me about your shop!” 

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work. 

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!” 

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend. 

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?” 

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him. 

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on. 

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!” 

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.” 

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother. 

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes. 

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop. 

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!” 

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” 

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over. 

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws. 

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand. 

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.” 

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment. 

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you. 

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!” 

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything. 

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation. 

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!” 

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!” 

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.” 

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop. 

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around. 

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.” 

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.” 

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt. 

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted. 

Weekends were usually spent together as well. 

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee. 

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project. 

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” 

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure. 

 “That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!” 

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him. 

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.  

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back. 

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup. 

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly. 

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.” 

Friend. 

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. 

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.” 

It was now or never. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression. 

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say. 

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.” 

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.” 

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?” 

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost. 

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. 

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well. 

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips. 

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return. 

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks. 

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly. 

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.” 

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully. 

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.” 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

[glitchy-anime-fan]

Some of my Mello headcanons because why not

Most of these are just kinda random or stupid inside jokes between me and my friend. Also some of them are based on if Mello and Matt survived in the series. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

Feel free to take this as platonic or romantic!

Mello only eats milk chocolate. He tried dark chocolate once and said it was “too bitter”

He had tried one of those organic chocolate bars or whatever that’s only got like 75% chocolate in it, but it “ruined” dark chocolate for him

He also just hates white chocolate. The only way he’ll eat it is if it’s on something else like a bonbon or pretzels, but even then those treats won’t be the first on his snack list

Mello made Matt go on a chocolate run once b/c he was running low and they weren’t expecting a restock until a few days later

In a moment of sleep deprived confusion, Matt accidentally bought dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate

It wasn’t a lot, maybe only five or six bars, just enough to tide Mello over until the restock came in. Yet Mello was still upset that it wasn’t milk chocolate

Mello ate the chocolate anyway because he wasn’t going to waste it (or make the already tired Matt return to the store), but he made a point to complain about it the entire time

Mello says that Hershey’s special dark chocolate is okay. He wouldn’t eat a whole bar as a first choice, but the occasional little snack sized bar is okay

Mello is a big rock fan (if the leather wasn’t obvious enough), and while he doesn’t have a favorite sub genre, he does enjoy indie and 80’s rock

Some of his favourite bands are Mother Mother, AC/DC, and MCR

He has one Spotify playlist that he listens to religiously that’s just all his favourite songs and he adds to it constantly

Sometimes if he’s really focused on his work, he’ll listen through the entire playlist and end up in the “songs based off your playlist” playlist

Usually he doesn’t realize he’s listened through the whole list until he hits a song he doesn’t really like and goes to skip it (b/c he rarely skips songs)

Every now and again Matt will take Mello’s phone and just add really random songs to Mello’s playlist

I’m talking songs like the Pokémon rap, songs by the living tombstone, lofi music, etc.

He does it to both mess with Mello (he finds it funny when the blonde actually realizes what songs were added), and as a fun little way to give Mello a break from the rock music

Even though Mello acts annoyed, he never skips any of the songs Matt adds and never deletes them from the playlist

Mello isn’t a big cuddlier (blame the way he was raised at Wammy’s)

Though if you can get him to relax and cuddle with you, he can be pretty docile. He may whine, squirm, and curse at first, but eventually he’ll give in to his fate and relax.

Whenever Matt can tell Mello is having a really stressful day, he will grab Mello, turn on a cheesy movie and force Mello to cuddle with him

Of course Mello will scream, hit, and insult Matt, but the gamer’s heard it all and knows Mello doesn’t mean it. He also knows the blonde will eventually relax so Matt doesn’t take it to heart

Besides, Matt enjoys seeing his partner relax for once especially when Mello falls asleep with his head in Matt’s lap so a few empty insults is nothing

Despite being incredibly intelligent…Mello will occasionally do kinda stupid things

Like sometimes he is stuck in a situation where he brain just kinda doesn’t analyze it like it normally would, and Mello ends up doing really dumb shit

For example; Mello once broke one of prongs off his laptop charger and the little metal bit was stuck in the outlet

For whatever reason, may it be sleep deprivation, stress, or combination of the two, instead of turning off the electricity through the breaker box…Mello threw the tv remote at the outlet

Granted…it worked…the prong came out of the outlet…but it wasn’t the smartest idea

Matt was very confused when he came home to a broken outlet cover and remote, but then laughed for like two hours when Mello explained what happened

Matt has yet to let Mello live this fiasco down and will tease his partner about it whenever he can

Of course it’s not often that Mello has these “off” days, but when he does it’s usually attributed to a lack of sleep or too much stress

Matt is more likely to throw a remote at the outlet though ngl

As much as he hates to admit it, Mello gets flustered easily.

Once again, blame how he was raised in Wammy’s house, but Mello is not used to affection and becomes flustered when he’s shown any form of it.

Matt once called Mello “cute” when he walked in on the blonde actually looking relaxed. Mello’s face went 50 shades of tomato red and he nearly threw his laptop mouse at Matt.

Now Matt makes it his job to show Mello any form of affection, usually in the form of cute little terms of endearment or cuddling

To this day Mello will still blush any time he is shown affection, but he is slowly starting to get use to it

At least, he’s getting used to when Matt is showing him affection

Mello is ticklish as fuck. It’s mainly isolated to his sides and he’s so ticklish that just ghosting your hands by his sides will have him jumping.

Other then cuddles, tickling Mello is one of Matt’s ways to get the blonde to feel better when he’s upset.

Matt will usually only tickle Mello until he can tell the blonde is feeling better, but sometimes if they’re just messing around Matt may get hit

Matt also sometimes just forgets how ticklish Mello is and has gotten hit b/c the gamer ghosted his hands to close to Mello’s sides

Mello does apologise when he does hit Matt. Matt usually laughs it off and they go on with their day.

So we all know Mello and Matt grew up in London right? Well, when Mello left for America he tried his hardest to get rid of his accent

He did eventually succeed while he was with the mafia, but his accent will occasionally slip out when he gets really upset

Sometimes Matt teases Mello incessantly just so he can hear Mello’s accent return. Matt thinks the accent is cute. Mello hates it.

Mello and Matt’s favourite tv show is Victorious, change my mind! 😤

If you want to read more about this, check out this post

These are all the things I can think of at the moment. I may make a part two if my friend gives me any other funny ideas.

If anyone else has any wholesome Mello (or Matt) headcanons…uh let me know! I would love to hear them!

[weasleylangs]

lightweight - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Summary: Y/N’s never been the best at holding her alcohol. Luckily, George is always there to help her. Warnings: Alcohol, a drunk confession, fluff, brief mentions of underage drinking, one line about throwing up. Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Short Georgie fic today! I have work so I didn’t want to commit to any of my super long ideas but I still want to keep writing! Also, I’m not promoting excessive drinking whatsoever. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and requests are open!

This is also being posted while I’m asleep because I’m stuck on the other side of the world to the rest of you. Any asks will be replied too when I’m up!

-------------------------------------------------------------

George stands in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, firewhiskey in hand as he looks at the crowd. Their yearly reunion has been going on for a few hours now, and George has finally started to feel the alcohol buzzing around his head. Despite having already downed quite a few whiskeys, he’s barely been feeling it all night considering he’s always been a heavyweight, given his large stature.

The same can’t be said for the girl George’s eyes are trained on. Y/N Y/L/N. She’s currently dancing with Angelina Johnson, the rosiness in her cheeks evident from both the exertion from dancing for hours on end and the alcohol in her system. George has fond memories of Gryffindor parties, when Fred, Lee and himself would flirt their way into buying alcohol from Madam Rosmerta to sneak into parties that would eventually end with the girl he’s watching dancing her heart out.

“Babysitting already, mate?” Lee asks as he takes a swig of his beer and George chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not quite yet. I probably will be in, say…” He checks his watch and the time reads 1am, “... half an hour.” 

George developed a habit when they were sixteen, of looking after Y/N at parties. The girl never seemed to learn her own limits and more often than not, drank herself stupid at parties. Y/N was one of George’s best friends, and he’d never forgive himself if he ever let her get hurt at a party, so he happily settled for basking in the party atmosphere while keeping a close eye on Y/N. And then, in the morning he’d tease her while she threw up the contents of her stomach and she’d apologise profusely before they’d walk to breakfast together.

It’s been 10 years and they’re still dancing and drinking and George is still looking after her, but instead of walking her up to her dorm, George drags her back to his apartment above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and tucks her into his bed while he takes the couch. Granted, Y/N’s has developed some better limits than when she was sixteen years old, but it’s a force of habit at this point, and besides, George rather looks forward to it nowadays and his night would feel incomplete without knowing Y/N is 100% safe and sound 100 meters away from him. 

Fred approaches them, and they aimlessly stand around and chat. Mostly about quidditch, very rarely about work. These days, the hot topic of conversation is about how Lee’s been splitting his time between London helping the twins out with the shop and Romania, where his dragon trainer girlfriend lives. Sometimes, a few people approach them and ask the question if they’re the ‘famous Ginny Weasley’s twin brothers’ which always causes them to laugh and their chests swell in pride for their little sister. 

It’s probably only twenty minutes later when he hears a squeal come from the dance floor as some muggle band’s song comes on. George thinks Y/N probably convinced Tom to let her hijack the music and he vaguely recognises the song as one she’s played before. He searches the dance floor for her, and when their eyes meet she winks at him and quickly spins around to dance with Angelina again.

“I can’t believe she’s not even your girlfriend and you practically babysit her, mate. We’re 26, when are you making a move?” Fred teases but George ignores him. He notices Y/N catch his eye again and when she goes to wave him over, he sees her wobble slightly and her eyes widen out of fear of losing her balance. 

Truthfully, George is too scared to admit his feelings for Y/N. While he knows their friendship entails more than what a normal one does, George has never been the best at reading signs when people are romantically interested in him so he well and truly does not know where he stands with Y/N. He never wants to make people feel uncomfortable, so he lives blissfully unaware until someone yells in his face they’re interested in him. 

“Piss off, Fred. Like you can talk about me not making a move. You’ve liked Angelina since what? Sixth year?” He pushes Fred slightly at the shoulders as he scowls and slowly makes his way over the tiny girl in his sights. 

“Hi Georgie,” she slurs as he finally makes his way over to her and she’s quick to slot herself into his side. George is well aware Y/N is both a sleepy and clumsy drunk the second she stops dancing, and as George checks the time on his watch again, it now reads 1:30am and it’s well past intoxicated Y/N’s bedtime. 

“Hi, love,” he can’t help but use the nickname for her, especially when her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red when he uses it, “time to get you to bed?” 

She pretends to think for a second but George knows she’s all danced out when she sighs and tucks her head into his neck. He spots Lee and Fred, who are now imitating whips at him, and shakes his head as he waves goodbye. He makes sure to tell Angelina, Katie and Alicia they’re leaving as well so they don’t worry, and George pretends to miss the giggles and winks they give Y/N as he holds onto her. 

Thankfully, the Leaky Cauldron isn’t far from 93 Diagon Alley and soon enough George is placing Y/N in his bed and finding a change of clothes for her. It’s the middle of November, so he grabs a random old sweater his mum knitted him a few years back and while he looks for the pair of leggings she left here last time, he hears her soft gasp. 

When he turns to look at her, her eyes are fixated on the sweater in his hand. “That one’s my favourite.” 

George has a million sweaters, enough to fill a whole drawer full of them all in different colours, so he’s confused how Y/N knows which one this even is. 

“It’s the one with the frayed hand-holes, right?” George laughs at her usage of ‘hand-holes’ and unfolds the sweater to take a look at the sleeves, and sure enough, right where your hands pop out, the sleeves is fraying. 

“Why is this one your favourite, darling?” He questions, passing her the sweater. He turns his back to her, giving her some privacy as she takes her top off and she hums happily as the scent of George engulfs her senses. “It’s one of your oldest ones. So the Georgie-scent is the strongest.” 

George feels his cheeks heat up as Y/N slips the leggings up under her skirt and then struggles to undo her buttons. “Georgie-scent?” 

She hums in agreement as she finally gets the skirt off and drops it on the floor next to her. She’s curling herself up under the blankets when she looks at George and before her sober thoughts can catch them, drunk words are tumbling out of her mouth, “Reminds me the most of my Amortentia.” 

George pauses and stares at her, processing the words she just said. George only received three O.W.L’s during his time at Hogwarts and none of them were potions, but of course, he’s well aware what Amortentia is. He sells them at work, after all.

The most powerful love potion in the world.

“Firework smoke, Molly’s home-cooked meals and… Alcohol.” She mumbles when George doesn’t speak and she looks like she’s fallen asleep but George knows she isn’t. 

“Sure it isn’t Fred, love?” He laughs as he asks but his insecurities are there, shoved way down into the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill out. Firework smoke and his mum’s home-cooked meals scream both of them without a doubt, and George can’t help but convince himself that Fred could definitely have an explanation for the alcohol. 

Now she’s realised what she’s said, and she takes one look at George and she shoves her head into the pillow. “God, this isn’t how I was planning to tell you.” She’d actually never planned on telling him, convinced someone as perfect as George Weasley would ever love her back, but her brain had other plans.

“Tell me that you like my brother?” He jokingly questions, the insecurities fading but still feeling the need to tease her. When she laughs and rolls her eyes, George knows he’s calmed her down from a perch she didn’t realise she was on. She sits up quickly and her face looks a little green at first for how quick she moves. “Who looks after me when I’m drunk, George? I don’t see Fred anywhere.” She’s smirking now and George has to resist the urge to crawl into bed with her and kiss her senseless. 

“My Amortentia smells like you as well, by the way.” The smile Y/N gives him is bright enough it could light up the City of London. “Really?” she questions, and the way she sways in bed George can tell she’s still intoxicated and he can only hope she remembers this conversation in the morning because he knows he won’t be brave enough to initiate it again. 

“Really. Sunflowers, chocolate and…” He hesitates, laughing at how dumb they both are, “Firewhiskey.”

She screeches in embarrassment and before he knows it, Y/N’s dragging him into his bed and she’s giggling. “That’s so embarrassing!” she exclaims, “But so expected.” 

They roll around in the sheets for a few seconds, trying to grab at each other and laughing at the coincidences before George gets up and changes. Y/N watches him intently, trying her best not to objectify him in her mind but he’s just so damn gorgeous she can’t help it. She wants to kiss every inch of his skin and let everyone know the wonderful man standing in front of her is her's.

And when he goes to slip out of the room, thinking she’s fallen asleep, she pouts and clears her throat, causing him to turn and face her.

“You. Me. Bed. Cuddling. Now.” She says, nay demands and he has no choice. He slips into bed beside her and once again, for the second time that night, she’s slotted herself next to him. 

“I really do love you, you know.” She mutters against his neck and she feels his breath hitch. “I’m not just saying it because I was drunk. I mean, like I said it because I was drunk, but it’s true.”

George pauses, not wanting to upset her with what he says next, “Are you going to remember in the morning?” He’s trying not to let his fear be known, but with how close Y/N is, he knows she felt his body react subconsciously. Y/N’s had nights when she doesn’t remember anything she’s said- not because she’s drunk too much, but she’s naturally a forgetful person and the alcohol doesn’t help. 

“Of course, and if I don’t because I don’t remember tonight… I’d hope you’d tell me.” She reassures him, looking up at him and pressing a soft kiss to his chin from her position in his arms. 

George lets out a breath and looks at the girl in his arms and decides that he can’t keep it to himself anymore and that he’d shout it from every rooftop that he’s in love with Y/N Y/L/N. So he presses a kiss to her forehead, next, her nose, then her cheeks and lastly, a soft kiss on her lips.

“I promise I will. You and me forever.”