#and also the little prince. i hope it’s not in french | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingworlds · 2 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑)

Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader

Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?

Warning(s): more shitty google translate

Author’s Note: Once again thank you for all the love on this!!! I think there’s going to only be one part to the series after this one and then I’ll head onto other things 🥰🥰.

I hope all the tags work (some of them didn’t work last time and I’m unsure of how to fix it). Again, let me know if you would liked to be tagged for the final? part of this and maybe any of my future writings!!

Much love 🥰🥰

Pierre Gasly

Charles…why are you appropriating French culture 🤨🤨

Charles Leclerc

I lost a bet man

Pierre Gasly

You?? Lost a bet?? To who???

Charles Leclerc

Y/N

I was hoping I’d win

That way I’d have an excuse to ask her out to dinner

Pierre Gasly

You poor poor lovesick fool

Ask her out anyway

Charles Leclerc

No way

My ego is bruised 🫠

Pierre Gasly

…..

I can’t believe this

Charles Leclerc

Pierre…don’t you dare

Pierre Gasly

Don’t I dare do what?? 😁

Charles Leclerc

PIERRE GASLY WTF

QU'EST-CE QUE TU AS FAIT

Pierre Gasly

You’ll thank me later 🙏🙏

Mila Bolinsky

Y/NNNN

GIRL ANSWER ME

Y/N Porsche

WHY ARE WE SHOUTING

Mila Bolinsky

You know how you said if Charles won the bet he would take you out to dinner?

Y/N Porsche

Yeah?

Mila Bolinsky

Look at this!!!

You know who Pierre is best friends with

Charles

That little Ferrari man wants to go out to dinner with you

Y/N Porsche

🤨🤨 Charles has my number he could’ve just texted me

Mila Bolinsky

Y/N…he’s a man

Who lost a bet

His ego is probably bruised

Y/N Porsche

Men…such fragile creatures

Mila Bolinsky

Yes yes

But disregarding that

Text Charles

Ask him out to dinner yourself

Y/N Porsche

And why should I do that?

Mila Bolinsky

Bffr

You’ve had a crush on him for forever

You made a BET with him

If that’s not how you flirt then I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did

Y/N Porsche

…..you got me there

I’ll text him

yn_porsche

liked by charles_leclerc, milaaa, papaporsche, and others

yn_porsche a good night out 🥰🥰

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milaaa I TOLD YOU

milaaa also stunning as usual 😘😘

papaporsche Y/N, meine Prinzessin ... ist das ein Date? Muss ich jemanden bedrohen?

yn_porsche Nein, nein, nein, du musst niemandem drohen, Papa 😭😭

pierregasly 😁😁

username 🤨🤨🤨

username now that’s suspicious

username this wouldn’t have anything to do with your tweet would it?

username is…is mother taken

username I SEE YOU LURKING CHARLES

username he’s just like us fr fr

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yn_porsche, milaaa, and others

charles_leclerc 🌹🌹

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pierregasly say thank you Pierre

charles_leclerc no

milaaa 🤭🤭

papaporsche ….

username is that….IS THAT A PORSCHE LOGO I SEE

username ARE THOSE THE SAME ROSES Y/N HAD

username OMG I THINK THEY ARE

username BF CHARLES ERA???

username jaw is on the floor

username Pierre and Mila in the comments I fear the best friends are cooking something

username they better be 😭

username the Porsche princess with the Ferrari prince?? Yes please

Fred Vasseur

While I hope you had fun on your date you can’t be showing the Porsche logo Charles

It’s bad for branding

Charles Leclerc

My apologies boss 😅

Fred Vasseur

Oh shush, no apologies really needed

Now go get that girl

Charles Leclerc

Yes sir 🫡🫡

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Prestige Taglist:

@405rry @chasing-liberosis @h4miltonforza @escapism-writer @spilled-coffee-cup @dutifullyannoyingfox @or-was-it-just-a-dream @nessacarty1 @cherry-piee @nomie-11 @believeinwarrior @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @blushmimi @valntynebaby @loloekie @lightdragonrayne @woozarts @formula1cl16 @meadhbhcavanagh @marshmummy @aquangxl @justdreamersdream @trouble-sistar @iamahallucinationnn

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #charles leclerc #writingworlds #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader

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theemporium · 7 months

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🧸 charlos bringing you and the baby to the paddock for the first time since having little sainz-leclerc

i changed it a wee bit but hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

It had been a surprise planned between you and Fred Vasseur.

You knew the boys hated that they couldn’t be with you. You knew they hated that they would both have to fly in and out, going around the world while you were left to take care of your child. You knew that as much as they appreciated facetimes and pictures and constant updates, it wasn’t enough.

You also missed them too. Pascale had been a massive help since the baby boy was born. Reyes had even flown out to stay with you in the first few months after the baby was born. But that didn’t help fill the void of your two boys being away.

It had been Fred who initially reached out. He sent his well wishes and asked how his future driver was getting on, all polite and sweet small talk. Then, he told you the truth. He told you that despite the amazing results both Charles and Carlos were pulling, he could see the sadness and longing in their eyes. He knew it was hard for them to be away from their family, from you and your son.

So, you planned a paddock comeback.

Fred helped you organise it all, from getting the passes sorted to security to even keeping the boys distracted as you flew out to the next European race that would be easy for you to travel to with a young child. And as Thursday’s media day rolled around, neither boy had any suspicion that little Julian Leclerc-Sainz would be making his first appearance in the paddock.

You almost felt bad when you were in the car, on the way to the paddock from the hotel. Both boys had been blowing up your phone with messages varying from ‘we miss you’ to ‘tell Julian Papa and Dada miss him’. You almost felt bad for lying to them and saying you couldn’t call like you usually did on Thursday mornings before they headed in for work.

But the knowledge that they would be over the moon to see you both washed away the guilt.

You had decked Julian out in complete Ferrari merch, personalised and specially made to represent both his fathers. Between the little onesie decorated in ‘16’ and ‘55’, along with his own name and number plastered on the little hat, you were swooning at the sight of how adorable your son looked, and you knew your boys would say the same.

A Ferrari intern had been at the paddock entrance, ready to guide and help sneak you into the garages where the boys had been sitting between interviews. Your body itched to reach out for them, but your heart also clenched at the sight.

Charles was leaning his head on Carlos’ shoulder as the older man ran his fingers through his hair, soft and comforting. You understood what Fred meant now, at how dejected they looked. But the icing on the cake was the phone in Charles’ hand, a photo you had sent the boys two days ago of you and Julian spread across the screen.

“Got room for two more?”

Both boys’ heads snapped up comically fast, but Charles was the first one to jump out of his seat and rush towards you. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and Julian, only for Carlos to follow his actions seconds later.

“How are you here?” Carlos asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were here.

“Fred organised it,” you smiled, placing a hand on Carlos’ cheek as he melted into your touch. Your smile widened when he placed a chaste kiss on your inner wrist.

“And look at you!” Charles cooed happily as he took in the sight of Julian’s attire. “My prince is representing his fathers, hm? Oh, you are just so cute.”

You watched as Charles took little Julian in his arms, holding him close to his chest as he muttered a bunch of French that was spoken too quickly for you to understand.

“Ay, okay, give him to Papa,” Carlos intervened as he took the small boy in his arms, grinning widely at the way Julian garbled happily as he stared between his fathers. “Oh, mi lobo, I’ve missed you too.”

“This is the best surprise,” Charles murmured as he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms tightening around you like he wanted to be sure you wouldn’t run off.

“Anything for my boys,” you smiled, placing a chaste kiss on Charles’ cheek before a hint of mischief glinted in your eyes. “Plus, you two can take over diaper duty now. No excuses.”

Both boys groaned, but neither one of them complained, simply happy to have their family back together again.

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minhosimthings · 3 months

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Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung - The Vows

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: literal fluff nothing else, vows and a wedding my baes!!!

A/N: I HAD to write a wedding scene like COME ON its a law in Mona town that you cannot not write a wedding scene. Also I wrote really sappy vows so sorry not really that @candewlsy babe your daddy papi is a lovesick daddy papi now hehe

Part 1 || Part 2 || The Wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Weddings were always thought to be pompous events, jewels, dresses, champagne, whose son married whose daughter, gold, silver, and most importantly first dances.

And Heeseung couldn't have been more impatient for his first dance than ever.

Although it wasn't his first dance with you, having danced with you with every passing second of time since your engagement was officially announced.

He had sneaked you out often to the western wing, much to the suffering of Sunoo who had to hear Heeseung's rants about how pretty you danced with him.

And now it was suddenly the wedding, how the time had passed so quickly, and how, now, you were all dolled up in your flowy wedding dress, with adornments on you, enough to last a time. But the thing that shone especially bright was the rose gold ring on your finger, which Heeseung had customised for you. A ballerina figure sat on top of the ring, a bit extra, but it was Heeseung, and you loved how he had your initials engraved on the ring.

And then there you were again, walking with slow, flickering footsteps down a carpeted aisle to Heeseung.

Your Heeseung.

Your dancing prince.

You had often heard of the notion that brides shouldn't ever cry on weddings, it was apparently bad luck.

But how could you have held yourself back? When your ears listened to the beautiful notes of Heeseung's voice reading his own, written vows, a first for Tarnow's royal weddings apparently. But how could he have not? His princess deserved more than poetry. Especially when vows weren't usually allowed for princesses so usually the groom had to take incharge of the "how much I love you" banter.

"Beautiful." Heeseung whispered to you as you stepped onto the pedestal, facing his handsome face, "You look beautiful."

"As do you, my prince."

The priest clearing his throat snapped Heeseung out of his daze, while he was staring at your exposed neck and collarbones, god he hoped he didn't have anything particularly visible.

"Right." Heeseung took a deep breath, and took his paper from a very sweaty Jay, who was looking at you with a "Thank you for falling in love with him" smile (as if he hadn't thanked you enough already).

"I-Im kind of bad at writing vows and everything. Not like I've written them before! Because I-Ive never been married before I mean-" Heeseung panicked, but immediately calmed down at seeing the smile on your face. You placed your hand on top of his, earning an "aww" from the guests and a smile from Heeseung, who took another deep breath and started.

"Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom." Of course the declarations had to be first, "Have you ever heard of the sentence, Dances avec les etoiles?"

His voice bought a blush to your face.

"It means to want to dance with stars. When I was forced to learn french at eight, I found out about this pretty poetic line, and I related to it greatly. A little too greatly perhaps, and I found myself dancing in the darkest corners of this palace every night. It gave me peace, a lot of peace, to see myself in a great big mirror and do what I could never do to the strangers in the outside world."

You swore you could see stars dancing around Heeseung.

"But then, you came into this thing I call my life, and for-for perhaps the first time, I felt complete. Yes, we may have bickered, too many times for your liking-" that incited a giggle out of you, "But even in that, even in your anger, I truly found beauty in its equality. And when you danced for the first time at the ball? Oh god I swear I could have ravaged the earth for you right there and then, my princess."

You could have done the same for him at that moment.

"I had always thought of love as an insignificant thing, who would crave for a mere emotion like that? But now I realise, that it the only emotion I am ever so starved of, and it is the only emotion I feel, every single time your light shines on mine.

God do you know how much you dance like a swan in the corners of my heart I thought were unreachable? Because you do, you truly do. If there were a hundred universes in this world, I swear to find you in each one, and have one last dance with you, one last sinful symphony if it's the final thing I do, if your face is the final thing I see, then darling consider me blessed in my choices and cursed in my rendezvous.

I-I would be the happiest man on earth, if I was to dance with you every second, if my hand were you rest on your waist and twirl you around every day, I would truly be happy, Y/N.

I would be dancing with you among the stars, so much that the planets themselves get jealous, that their astral ballet cannot compete with ours."

You truly never knew the dance of two souls could have been more prettier than Spanish flamenco. But now, as your lips moved in synchronisation with Heeseung's, the sweet venom injecting into your lovesick blood, his hand ghosting your waist, as if he was afraid to even break you, you truly knew what love was.

It was to match each other's feet in the mirror of a now renovated western wing, dedicated to dancing and only dancing.

It was to make fun of Heeseung's brothers for their terrible dancing skills (barring Jay).

It was to simply exist with Heeseung.

It was to dance among the stars with him, as the saying went,

Dances Avec Les Etoiles.

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yungnorth

#heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enha fluff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #lee heeseung hard hours #heeseung × reader

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sgiandubh · 9 days

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But first, time to say good-bye

It was to be a late departure (bureaucracy will someday kill us all...) from Athens, an endlessly diverted way North through a very early summer and some fitful sleep near the border, where poppies were already in bloom and elusive to the camera:

I promised to share with you my story with Mycenae the day I would leave Greece for good. Yesterday was the day, so here goes.

I first went to Mycenae on a horrendously rainy day, in November 2018. The place struck me as a haphazard settlement of sorts in the wake of some ancient apocalypse, which was absolutely correct. We stayed in my colleague from Culture and Press' car, munched on some horribly stale koulouria as all hell broke loose outside, when she finally told me: ' you know what, I am happy we made it here: in Mycenae, you can only hear and tell the truth, you know'.

I have to say I ogled in suspicion. I was wet, hungry and completely unused to the Greek way of dressing everything up in mythology. She spoke Greek as I speak French and knew perfectly well what she was doing. She was casting a spell - an unbreakable one, for which I will forever be grateful. Oh, and as all myths would have it, the Lion Gate was closed, by the time we arrived.

It took me almost two years to go back there, during the pandemic, scared summer of 2020, when everything was empty and glorious to fully take in, like a big gulp of colors and sounds and life. My digs were to be always the same: unassuming Petite Planète, the last B&B in town, a stone throw away from Agamemnon's treasury, owned by the Dassis clan of archaeologists.

Their story begins in Constantinople, around 1875, when Konstantinos, a young orphan, begged Heinrich Schliemann to take him along to wherever he was traveling. He quickly became indispensable and helped with the first digs in Mycenae. He was the one who found Agamemnon's mask:

When the digging was over, Schliemann bought him a tiny house for two pence and a half and told him to stay there. 'Many people will come to visit and they will need food and a roof. Make sure you do your best and it will make you a rich man.'

And they came. In droves. If you ask nicely, V. will show you their reception rosters, safely tucked away in a bank vault, in Argos. I had the privilege to see Virginia Woolf's signature and I was stunned. Schliemann's two pence house is now doubled by a garish modern addition you can see from the main road as La Belle Hélène B&B ('my cousin Agamemnon is a greedy idiot', says V), but Schliemann's room is piously kept as it was when the strange German gentleman left them to their fate. As is, they did not become rich, but that does not matter. You will always find a place at their wonderful table, where Mamma Dassis cooks the same food they ate back in Constantinople and they would not have it otherwise. The new, bigger and better B&B is called Petite Planète because of V's father undying passion for Saint Exupéry's Little Prince. It permeates everything without being obtrusive, because sometimes 'the essential is invisible to the eye'.

Back in 2020, they were worried. Very worried. The Lion Gate was open again, but the 'cretins at Google' wouldn't have it and kept on listing it as closed, on their maps. People were canceling their bookings. The village stood unusually quiet and forlorn.

I made no promises. But I did phone some people at the Greek Ministry of Culture. The least person I expected to be of any help, H, a transparent, mousey freeloader, who was always the last to leave all of our events in the hope we'd take her to dinner in town, happened to be some sort of underling at the Archaeological Sites Department. She immediately understood what I wanted her to do.

Three days after I left Mycenae, on my road trip to the Mani peninsula, I received this message in my Booking inbox:

This started it all. And from that moment, all my Greek roads will lead there. It's also been a long time since I have trouble forcefully paying them for my monthly stays (booking and paying in advance helps, though), something they adamantly refused last time I went there:

'G., the girl wants to pay.'

'This is ridiculous, of course. This girl is family.'

Someday, I just know I will be back. For good.

After five years and a half, many more fabulous stories (Mycenean potter and poet, anyone? mad postman? Kyria Stamatoula and her goats? Kyrios Pandelis and his jams?) the only thing I know about Greece is that, for all its (many) misgivings, this land is about two things:

Friends and Heroes.

#psa #life as is #Peloponnese #mycenae

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egophiliac · 9 months

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Um…hello! Your art is like a HUGE inspiration to me how you draw everyone is so unique, I love it! So I just wanted to ask what inspired you and your art to what it is today?

(hopefully I explained that correctly ;w;)

oh my gosh, thank you! :D :D :D I've been feeling pretty down about my art lately, so this was a super nice message to wake up to! one of the easiest traps to fall into is forgetting that other people are seeing your art without all the baggage and hangups that your brain has given it, and sometimes...they might actually like it? hmm. 🤔 (seriously though, that really is incredible to hear, thank you! 💕)

inspiration is really really hard to put into words. so I apologize if none of this makes sense! :') a lot of it comes from looking at things I like, trying to break down what it is that I like about them, and smooshing all those pieces together into some kind of amalgamated homunculus. I'll see something that uses a lot of straights vs curves, go "ooh", and then just start throwing those in there until it is fully absorbed into the gelatinous mess that is Developing An Artstyle. or I'll see some pretty soft-style shading, go "ooh", and then decide I'm not meshing with it and try something else. just, like, being open and trying different things and seeing what sticks, I guess!

overall, I would say I was mostly shaped by the Western media landscape of the early 2000s, when anime was becoming more mainstream and starting to show influence on Western cartoons; I think particular works that influenced me were Sailor Moon, Utena, the works of Takahashi Rumiko, Samurai Jack, Batman Beyond, and Bone. (there's also the French movie Princes et Princesses -- which is itself a homage to The Adventures of Prince Achmed -- which...yeah, you can basically take one look at it and see the effect it had on me.) and there are probably a lot of other things that I didn't consciously realize!

on a more philosophical level, one of my teachers once said to me that "the art that you like to look at isn't necessarily the art that you should be doing". which is something I try to hold onto! I had been trying really hard at the time to be, like, a more realistic traditional-style painter, and was getting really frustrated because that kind of art isn't fun for me to do. it wasn't until I gave myself permission to actually try out different things and not lock myself into what I thought was the kind of art I should be doing, that I realized I actually just like drawing little dudes making weird faces at each other! (I definitely still have some hangups about this, but I am getting better at it! ...I hope!)

#just sort of (waves) general art #i guess #there is definitely some of the Career that leaks into things too #there's a couple of posts where i can point to exactly what project i was on at the time #whoops #tangentially i do think it's kind of funny when people describe my twst fanart as being not anime style #because my stuff in the non-japanese sphere of things often gets described as being anime style #i just think it's funny how relative it is!#two worlds...one family...

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uptoolateart · 10 months

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A few episodes back – I forget which one because my head is so full of Representation now – in one of Emilie’s old videos she referred to Adrien as their ‘little prince’.

It stuck in my head, because again, we have to remember it’s a French show, and ‘The Little Prince’ is a French literary classic. I don’t think it’s a stretch to look at this, considering ‘Le Petit Prince’ merchandise is eeeeeverywhere in Paris, there’s a statue for him in the Grevin Wax Museum, and there are roads named after the author.

If you haven’t read the book, I recommend it. It’s beautiful, albeit very sad, and not very long. Without giving everything away, it’s about a boy with blond curls who comes to Earth from another planet. It is, at its heart, a story about loneliness, relationships, and learning to love, but it is also very much about the distinction between children and adults - namely, that adults have lost the magic, the ability to see things as they ‘truly are’. The adult world is depicted as materialistic and cold, a world of rules and ownership, while the boy knows love is the only thing that matters.

And when I say the book contains a love story…it revolves around the prince trying to nurture and care for and meet the demands of a red rose. Just thinking of Ladybug in red, and how many times Cat brings her / Marinette red roses. (For interest’s sake, other key characters in the book include a fox and a snake.)

I believe when Emilie refers to Adrien as their ‘little prince’…well, in a way, we can see this as him being heir to the empire, with expectations on his shoulders…but it’s that word ‘little’ that makes me feel she is indicating that Adrien is almost a wonder from another world, dropped into the confusing world of adults with bad priorities.

Just like the prince of the novella, Adrien begins his journey painfully naïve but has his eyes opened to the harshness of the world…and rejects all of it, refusing to become like that, as he grows.

I can only hope Adrien has a happier ending than The Little Prince.

Please no post-Representation spoilers in comments :)

#miraculous ladybug #ml fandom #mlb #ml adrien #adrien agreste #ml emilie #ml meta #ml analysis #the little prince #le petit prince #ml representation

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empirearchives · 9 days

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Hi! I was wondering is there an actual source stating that calling Napoléon "Buonaparte" was meant as derogatory? I've read here (https://mrodenberg.com/2012/09/13/bonaparte-or-buonaparte/) that on Saint-Helena, the British addressed him as that to undermine his legitimacy as French ruler. Also, I know of another historical figure, Prieur de la Côte-d'Or, who not being very fond of him used the same appellation when talking about Napoleon

Hey! Yes, it was definitely used in a derogatory way to delegitimize Napoleon’s rule by denying his frenchness. Napoleon’s brother, Louis, commented on this in his A Reply to Sir Walter Scott’s History of Napoleon in 1829:

Another visible object is, that of desiring to make Napoleon pass as a foreigner in France. In fact, if such were not the intentions of the author, why this obstinacy in writing the family name of Napoleon, Buonaparte, instead of Bonaparte, consecrated as it is by long habit? Certainly the letter O is not more or less noble or French than the letter U, but it is done to impress a foreign character upon Napoleon, and divide his glory from that of France.

The Italian nation is sufficiently glorious for one to be proud of belonging to it, especially of deriving one’s origin from this beautiful country; but when one has been born under the laws of France, grown up on its soil, with no other knowledge of foreign countries, even of beautiful Italy, than that gained with the victorious legions of France, it is rather too ridiculous to receive from an English author the certificate of a foreigner.

The name Buonaparte was being used by the coalitions before the St. Helena years, especially by the British, so there are quite a lot of examples.

To be clear, Buonaparte was Napoleon’s birth name and the name he preferred to go by for over 20 years. He changed his name during the French Revolution during a wave of name changes across France to more revolutionary and patriotic names. That being said, Bonaparte is already listed as his name on his baptism certificate* in 1771 (“Neapoleone Bonaparte”) when he was nearly 2 years old, which is 3 years into French rule of Corsica. On the same document, his father’s name is spelled as Buonaparte.

It’s a little complicated. The spelling of names weren’t very standardized and were subject to a lot of variation. But the usage of the name Buonaparte was definitely intentional among Napoleon’s enemies. You can tell pretty easily when someone is saying it in a bad faith manner.

From the historian Andrew Roberts (Napoleon: A Life):

For decades thereafter, British and Bourbon propagandists re-inserted the ‘u’ in order to emphasize Napoleon’s foreignness, such as in François-René de Chateaubriand’s snappily titled 1814 pamphlet Of Buonaparte and the Bourbons and the Necessity of Rallying Round our Legitimate Princes for the Happiness of France and that of Europe, in which he wrote: ‘No hope was left of finding among Frenchmen a man bold enough to dare to wear the crown of Louis XVI. A foreigner offered himself, and was accepted’ (Chateaubriand, Of Buonaparte p. 5). Even after the British royal family changed the name of their dynasty from Saxe-Coburg-Gotha to Windsor in 1917, some British historians still ridiculed Napoleon for dropping the ‘u’ from his surname.

It becomes obvious when people change how they refer to Napoleon depending on their current stance or relationship with him. For example, when France and Russia were allies, Tsar Alexander I calls him Napoleon or even the Emperor Napoleon. But when the alliances change and Napoleon is removed from power, Alexander referred to him as Buonaparte.

From the historian Marie-Pierre Rey (Alexander I):

Alexander’s use of the Corsican family name of Buonaparte is interesting, implying that for Alexander Napoléon was no longer emperor of the French — and not even French by nationality!

So there were two purposes to calling him Buonaparte: to accentuate his commoner origins as well as his foreignness in order to delegitimize his authority as head of state.

Thanks for the interesting question!

————

* (The baptism document can be found on Archives de la Corse-du-Sud -> Etat Civil -> Ajaccio -> 1771 -> Baptemes -> 6 MI 4/21)

#asks #my answers #Napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #buonaparte #napoleonic era #napoleonic #first french empire #french empire #Bonaparte #history #french revolution #Corsica #Ajaccio

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ofmonstersandlovers · 2 years

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vampire!bf with clingy reader (+ comfort hc)? Maybe reader came home from a rough day and was clingy lmaoo ty bestie✨

You're welcome bestie 😘 Here's the comfort for ya!

Pairing: Vampire!Boyfriend x Reader

Notes: Fluff, SFW, Hurt/Comfort

Getting home this late afternoon felt like a needed lifeline after the day you had; your boss was unfortunately in a foul mood, one that he decided to aim solely at you.

Yelling at every little thing you did "wrong", micromanaging your every step as you worked. He even forced you to work through your lunch since you "didn't deserve a break with the mistakes you've been making." You were only able to eat when you clocked out, shoving the sandwich down your gullet in the front seat of your car as your tried to fight back the tears.

Even now, as you pull up to your home which was way out of your budget thanks to a certain someone, does the back of your eyes burn and the lump in your throat made itself known.

The home was a gift from your boyfriend. Living forever tends to come with long term stock investments that pay off, making him from old money.

It was odd at first, dating a vampire: the difference of species was a big one, as well as the complex sleep and food patterns of his. But after some communication, your relationship just works.

However, you really hope he wasn't awake right now. Granted, you loved talking to him, adored when he would wake early just to great you when you came home, yet you didn't want him to see you this way.

And yet, you also really need him right now.

With these conflicting feelings, you walk towards the front door with a trembling sigh. Unlocking the door with a click and opening the front door.

And there he was.

He dressed prim and proper even when he didn't go out. Suit tailored to his body perfectly as he sat like a prince on the very modern couch. Out of place with the regale air arouns him, delicately holding a book in his hands. One that you've previously suggested.

You've been recommending him some new books to read and collect and he found himself very entrapped with the recent series about a woman living with demon princes. Despite the story seducing his attention with promised twist and turns, he still looked at you with this adoring look and small private smile just for you.

And that's when you shattered.

Dropping your stuff to the floor a sob wracked your form as you quickly stepped towards your vampire lover. Who in turn noticed the shift and immediately set his book aside to take you into his arms as your throw yourself into them. Clinging to his shoulders as you cried into the junction of his neck.

"Darling," he started - his voice a low raspy baritone with the smallest of a French accent. "What's the matter? Did something happened while at work, mon cher?"

Even as he asked this, he instinctively wrapped his arms around you and pulled you further into his lap. Petting your head and spine as he leaned into you. You've never been more thankful for him.

"I missed you," you chocked out. That wasn't what you meant to say but it was still true. If he was there with you the day would've been more bearable. Though, the boss would've had a different and more life threatening problem if the vampire was there at all to witness the mess you had to endure.

Clinging harder to the vampire, the sobs continued as you asked: "Stay with me?"

"Of course, darling," the vampire cooed. Moving your head from its hiding place so that he could get a better look at you. Wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. "I will make you some Earl tea and run you a bath if you like, little one."

The idea of being pampered made your heart well with love as you nodded your head, before asking in a tiny voice; "Can you bathe with me?"

The vampire answered with a kiss to the tip of your nose before rubbing his own against yours in a gentle butterfly kiss.

"Darling, I'll only leave your side if you ask."

You don't think you'll ever ask him that, but for him to still respect if you need space made you love him even more. With a wobbly smile, you planted a chaste kiss to his much colder lips. Feeling him smile gently against your warmer ones as you whispered:

"I'll never tell you to leave."

You were glad to be home.

#monster lover #writers on tumblr #monster fudger #vampire boyfriend #vampire lover #vampire lover headcanons #vampire x reader #vampire x you #slight angst #vampire literature #literature

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cryptid-called-ash · 3 months

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Soul eater headcanons because it’s 1:30am and I have insomnia (mostly the trio)

Reapers have two names. The first is their title (ie lord death and death the kid). The second is their true/personal name, one only to be shared with family and the closest of friends. Kid’s name is Eros, lord death’s is Orcus. Only Liz, Patty, and eventually Blackstar know Kid’s true name.

Reapers have a unique language called Archayk, which sounds like an odd mix of Japanese, old Gaelic, and French.

Crona is Afab nonbinary and asexual. They bond with Kid over their mutual lack of understanding gender norms and sexuality.

Crona has an ouroboros mark in the centre of their back because Medusa branded them as a child. When the gang find out, they go out of their way to help them feel better about it. Patty tells Crona how cool it looks, Soul saying he wants a tattoo like that, Blackstar comparing the mark to his star, Maka telling them all the interesting lore about ouroboros she knows. In time, Crona comes to see the mark not as symbol of Medusa’s control, but as a loving connection to their friends.

Kid lived in the death room for the first 6 years of his life, practically glued to his father’s side and speaking exclusively Archayk. He moved into gallows manor when he turned 7 and would live there alone until he partners up with the Thompson sisters.

Liz can’t cook for shit and patty is banned from ever setting foot in the kitchen, so Kid does all the cooking at gallows manor. And he’s pretty good at it too. It’s one of the things he learned to keep himself occupied growing up. He would beg Spirit to bring new ingredients when he would make his weekly check-ins.

As he didn’t have any real contact with people outside of Spirit, Marie, and his father; Kid picked up a lot of skills to pass the time. On the tamer side were skills like learning to play the piano and the harp, calligraphy work, embroidery and needle work, drawing, and (as mentioned above) cooking. On the more eccentric side were skills such as dueling and fencing, learning dead languages, gymnastics, throwing knives, studying both current and historical politics, and apothecary’s remedies.

Speaking of Marie, she tutored Kid before he enrolled in the DWMA. she is one of the very few humans able to speak the reaper language and so was able to teach Kid before he learned how to speak human languages.

Maka’s mother has a twin sister who is a witch, though Maka and her mother are not. However she chose a path of kindness and actively try and spread good through the world, in hopes that one day other witches will do the same.

Maka moved in with Soul after her parents divorce. They had been partners for a year at that point and Soul wanted to help his meister any way he could. Maka cried when he suggested she move in with him, hugging him for the first time. That’s when Soul started falling for her.

After Kid becomes a full-fledged reaper, it takes nearly 2 months for him to adjust to the name change. He’d been death the kid for most of his life, so suddenly being called lord death was a big change. It takes Soul and Maka even longer to stop calling him Kid. Blackstar outright refuses to call him lord, so he gives him the nickname Prince. And though he’d never admit it out loud, Kid loves it. Liz and Patty also don’t call him lord death, instead simply electing the call him brother in public and Eros in private.

At first Liz and Patty slept in their own room when they came to live at gallows. but after a particularly hard mission, the trio all slept in Kid’s room. Not long after they all just silently agreed that they would continue to stay in the his room together.

Liz is two years older than Kid and Kid is two years older than Patty. Soul and Maka are the same age. Tsubaki is a year older than Blackstar.

Liz loves to dress her little siblings and taught them both how to properly apply makeup. She especially loves getting them all matching dresses or shirts and wearing them together.

Tsubaki’s favourite tea is lemon and hibiscus with a teaspoon of honey mixed in.

Though they can’t speak it, the sisters can understand Archayk well enough to know what Kid is saying when he speaks it.

Blackstar becomes Kid’s right hand man when he ascends his father’s title. Blackstar is known as ‘The Shadow of Death’.

Kid’s sanzu lines don’t all close at the same time, rather they close one by one over the span of 2 years. The process is referred to as a coronation. The first line closes the night Asura is woken by Medusa, when kid is 14; the second closes when he’s 15 and he rejects the power of madness promised by Eibon, choosing his friends and sisters over his own desire for perfection; the third closes after Lord Death fights Asura for the final time and chooses to pass his power and title onto his heir, leaving Kid the lord of death at just 16 years old.

Liz and Patty are called ‘Death’s Angels’ after becoming Kid’s death scythes.

Soul has a bad knee from a car accident when he was a child. It usually doesn’t hurt very much, but when it flares up he can hardly walk. He wears a knee brace all the time and uses a cane during flare ups. The cane is covered in stickers the gang put on it.

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archduchessofnowhere · 4 months

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Hi, hope this question won’t be too long.

In “The Real Francis Joseph, the Private Life of the Emperor of Austria,” by Henri de Weindel, it states that in 1873 at the Vienna Exhibition, Empress Elisabeth was given an Egyptian slave who was part of the exhibit. The book later states that Elisabeth nursed the boy when he was sick and that he became a playmate to Marie Valerie and Sisi even had them photographed together and allowed copies of the photo to be sold. However, when the photo was caricatured in the newspaper Franz Josef became so angry he had all copies of the photograph and caricature destroyed. Another source said the boy was named Mahmoud (with the spelling varying according to source).

My question is though is there any information on what became of the boy afterwards? (The Weindel book doesn’t mention Mahmoud beyond this event). Or even to the accuracy of this incident?

Hello! I think Wendel is actually talking about a boy called Rustimo, who entered Elisabeth's service around 1877:

Rustimo with Archduchess Marie Valerie and with Crown Prince Rudolf.

There doesn't seem to be an agreement on how Rustimo actually entered Elisabeth's entourage. According to Corti, Rustimo was "presented to her by the Khedive [the title of the governor of Egypt]" (1936, p. 280), meanwhile Brigitte Hamann says that he was "a blackamoor the Shah of Persia (according to one of various versions) had sent as a gift" (1986, p. 231). Giving that in both versions he was allegedly a "given" to the Empress, it may be safe to assume he indeed had been enslaved.

Before continuing, I'd like to make a small detour to talk about an event from Elisabeth's childhood: her father buying five enslaved boys in one of his trips.

Soon after the future Empress of Austria's birth, her father Duke Max in Bavaria embarked on a several months-long trip to Orient. In Cairo Max visited the slave market, and was horrified of seeing "people being sold like cattle", as he later wrote down in his memoirs about the trip (Winkelhofer, 2022). It was then probably an attempt at altruism what brought him to buy five boys from the market and bring them back with him to Munich, instead of just an "eccentricity" as it's often put.

Why did I mention this? Because the boys remained in the service of the Duke for many years. As Dr Martina Winkelhofer points out:

They lived in the servants' quarters at the back of Palais Max, on the second floor. Elisabeth also had her room up there, but at the front of the building. Having to deal with black servants was an everyday occurrence for her from childhood. (ibid)

Considering this, it wouldn't have been "exotic" for her to take Rustimo into her household. But given the reaction of the court, it's not strange that previous biographers see this only as her wanting to offend Viennese society. Landgravine Therese Fürstenberg, one of the Empress' ladies-in-waiting, wrote to her sister in August of 1877 that (warning for racist connotations):

The Archduchess [Valerie] recently took the blackamoor along on the promenade, he was put in the carriage with the French teacher, who sat next to the heathen feeling shamed and sad; the Archduchess always gives candy to children along the road. But now none of them dared to come near her when they saw the black boy and tried in every way to avoid the monster and his bared teeth, so as to get to the candies; all this seemed a great joke to the little girl. (Hamann, 1986, p. 231)

We have (even more) explicitly racist comments made by Landgravine Fürstenberg as well as by Countess Mária Festetics, another lady-in-waiting, but I rather not share them, they're just too nasty and add nothing to the post. You can make an idea of how everyone felt about Rustimo.

And what about Valerie? According to Corti, she "was afraid of him and took some time to grow accustomed to him" (1936, p. 280). But she never wrote down her feelings about her playmate. In the over 300 pages of her diary, she only mentions him once, in an entry from February 24 of 1880:

At ½7 Puttl and Raab come and we both have a dance lesson together until 7 o'clock when we have a supper and then "Eile mit Weile" [a board game] with Rustimo. Papa comes after ½8 until 8 o'clock. Then I go to bed (p. 21)

Elisabeth had Rustimo baptized in 1878 (it was just unacceptable that the Catholic Habsburgs had a heretic in their service). He was given the Christian name of "Rudolf" after the Crown Prince, his godfather. The Empress wrote of this ocasion to her mother Ludovika:

Today was Rustimo's christening in Valerie's salon… Rudolf was godfather. It was solemn and ludicrous, there were tears and laughter. He himself was very moved and wept. (Hamann, 1986, p. 231)

Rustimo continued to ascend in the Empress favor, and in 1884 he was made "announcer of the bedchamber". He remained in the service of Elisabeth until 1890, when he was pensioned, and in 1891, Rustimo "was sent to the charity institution in Ybbs, where he died the very next year" (Hamann, 1986, 232).

Screenshot of the Official Guide of the Austro-Hungarian Empire from 1890 that shows Rustimo as part of the staff of Elisabeth's chamber (middle column, at the bottom).

While Hamann states that Rustimo fell out of favor in 1885 (she gives no source for this) and that after he left court he was abandoned, Winkelhofer claims that, while writing her two-part biography of Elisabeth, she found evidence that it was the Empress who payed for Rustimo's stay at the institution Hamann mentions, and also for his grave when he died (she wrote about this on Instagram but I cannot for the life of me find in which post, you'll have to trust me on this one sorry). Winkelhofer has said that the second part of her biography, which will be published on August this year, will have this evidence, as well as new information about Rustimo; she claims it we'll give us a new image of him. This is actually the reason why I hadn't written about Rustimo yet, I was waiting for her book to come out to have all the information we have available and make a more complete post.

As for the claims made by Wendel, I honestly don't know. None of Elisabeth's biographer mention anything of her nursing Rustimo, and clearly all the copies of the picture of of him with Valerie weren't destroyed, since we have it to this day.

Before finishing this post, one more thing: Muhammed was a different servant! We know nothing (yet) of him, in fact neither Corti nor Hamann mention him in their books. Winkelhofer just says in the first part of her biography that "the Nubian Muhammed Beschir, [was a] servant for three years until his return to Africa" (2022). But she has also promised to reveal what she has discovered of this unknown servant in the second part of her biography, and I can't wait for it!

I hope that you found my answer helpful and I promise you to update this ask when I get Winkelhofer's book!

Sources:

Corti, Egon Caesar Conte (1936). Elizabeth, empress of Austria (translation by Catherine Alison Phillips)

Hamann, Brigitte (1986). The Reluctant Empress: A Biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (translation by Ruth Hein)

Hof- und Staatshandbuch der Österreichisch-Ungarischen Monarchie, 1890

Schad, Martha and Schad, Horst [ed.] (1998). Das Tagebuch der Lieblings Tochter von Kaiserin Elisabeth. 1878-1899

Winkelhofer, Martina (2022). Sissi. La vera storia. Il cammino della giovane imperatrice (translation by Federica Saccucci)

#rudolf rustimo #empress elisabeth of austria #archduchess marie valerie of austria #crown prince rudolf #asks

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edupunkn00b · 4 months

Text

Mise Out of Place

Edited photo. Original by Icons8 Team via Unsplash.

mise en place (ˌmē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs) noun Borrowed from French. A culinary process in which ingredients are prepared and organized (as in a restaurant kitchen) before cooking Also : the set of ingredients prepared using this process

Written for @starlocked01 for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. I hope you enjoy this mix of crack and fluff with some elements unexpectedly made canon by last week's video.

Many thanks to the developmental beta reader, "Some Guy," who provided invaluable assistance and cheerleading with this story. Fluff is hard, y'all.

WC: 2k (okay, almost 2K) - Rated: T for a bit of swearing - CW: fluff, crack, and a hint of Remus-y imagery - [ AO3 ] -

“And… we’re live!”

“Thanks, Freddie,” Roman muttered, just out of earshot of the lavaliere mics pinned to Patton's and Remus' aprons.

“Maybe after his glow up,” Janus murmured, equally quietly.

Patton grinned at the camera, the edge of Janus’ hat fuzzy and barely visible past the glare of the ring light. “Hey there, Kiddos—”

“I’m Remus!” Said Side jumped into the frame, one long arm draped over Patton’s shoulders. Instead of looking at the camera, he stared expectantly at Patton, his grin far, far too wide.

Patton nodded, his own smile still plastered on. “And I’m your Happy Pappy Patton!”

Remus leaned closer and they said in unison, “And welcome to Messers en Place!”

Janus’ hat bobbed on the other side of the camera and Patton’s smile brightened. They’d practiced and practiced—and practiced—their video intro, each time failing to be in sync. Even Patton had begun to fear they’d have to rewrite it. But this time, when it mattered, really mattered, they did it!

“And what are we making today, Pattycake?” Remus prompted him when he failed to say his next line.

“Oh, right! To-daay…” He drew out his words as he looked around the ingredients oh-so-carefully spread out over the countertop. Mise en place, Roman had called it. Logan had tried to hide his surprise behind a little fumble with his glasses, but Patton hadn’t missed the way Logan’s eyes had widened.

“Ahem, well, yes, Roman is correct,” he'd finally managed. Remus bounced on his toes next to Patton, picking up each tiny bowl and sniffing at its contents.

“Careful there, Ro Bro,” he'd cackled. “Nerdy Wolverine’s gonna bust a nut with you knowing things.”

“I am not—”

“Hey, Pattycake, what’s this one?” Winking, Remus pulled him back into the present moment and shoved a bowl of brown spices into his hands.

“Oh, um…” Patton sniffed carefully. “It’s cumin, Remus.”

“Well, if you insist…” he began, reaching for his belt.

“Remus!” Roman cried, bonking his brother's head with the boom mic.

“Muse, not now, boy,” Janus murmured from the other side of the room.

Virgil groaned from his perch at the top of the refrigerator, silently tapping the sides of the fire extinguisher in his lap. “Are we sure having these two do a cooking show was a good idea for the stream?”

“Of course it is!” Remus and Roman said together.

And it really was a good idea. The twins had blurted out the concept together during a brainstorming session and even Logan had agreed this would be first in their livestream series. He'd even suggested the name.

So here they were, the two of them, about to cook. Together.

They could do this. Patton could do this.

Remus’ smile had grown too wide again, eyebrows arched high.

Right, the cumin.

“We’re making spaghetti and meatballs,” Patton remembered his line and smiled at the camera.

“Balls,” Remus muttered under his breath, shoulders dancing.

Patton gasped and sneezed into the little bowl, spraying cumin up into the air and all over his face.

“Oh, I gotcha, Daddy—”

“Remus!” Roman lowered the boom mic with an offended huff only he could manage to sound princely.

“Aw, Kiddo!” His catigan sleeves were safely tucked beneath his apron, but he brushed them clean anyway. Remus whipped out a concerningly clean handkerchief from under his sash and dabbed at Patton’s face.

“It’s sweet,” Patton smiled at Roman just off camera.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Roman muttered.

“You don’t get paid at all, Princey!”

“Need I remind you all we’re still live?” Logan hissed from the hallway.

“It’s fine, Logan, dear,” Janus murmured, tapping the laptop just out of frame. Comments scrolled up the screen faster than they'd ever been. “The viewers are eating it up.”

Logan frowned at the screen for a long moment before shrugging. “He’s right. Okay, carry on."

Face now clean, Patton nodded and carried a big stock pot to the sink. “Right, first step is to start the water. Remus, will you—”

“One step ahead of you, Daddy!” Patton barely made out his words over the rush of the faucet.

And the crash just behind him.

Patton swung around, water sloshing out of the pot and onto the floor. “Remus!”

Remus had shoved all the measured ingredients to the far edge of the counter. Spices and oil spilled over the plate of ground meat and the long loaf of italian bread was broken in half. A wedge of parmesan had impaled the softening butter and the head of garlic had rolled onto the floor. At the center of the counter was a giant neon green air fryer into which Remus had jammed the entire—sealed—box of linguini and a jar of sauce. "Oh, and Merry Christmas, by the way. Thought you could use one of these babies!" he said, slapping the top of the device. "Hm… I wonder if I could fit one of those in here, too…"

“Wait, Remus, no—” Patton dropped the stock pot and reached out as Remus cranked the air fryer up to 500°F and slammed the start button.

“Well, it was nice having a kitchen,” Virgil muttered and pulled the pin from the extinguisher, nozzle aimed directly at the air fryer.

“No, it’s fine,” Patton said, voice cracking even as he grinned up at Virgil. “Don’t worry, Kiddo, everything will be—”

The air fryer beeped and the scent of burning paper filled his nose. He rushed toward the counter, hands outstretched to unplug the fryer, but his heel skidded on the wet floor and he slammed into Remus’ back instead.

“Hey, if you wanted to dance, Pattycake…” Remus spun around, catching him before he fell. “You could’ve just said so!”

“Remus!” Patton cried, clinging to his tunic as thick black smoke and the flicker of orange flames erupted out of the appliance. “Fire!”

With the grace of a cat and accompanied by a woosh of extinguisher foam, Virgil jumped down and doused the air fryer, the counter and most of Patton and Remus with the fire retardant.

A spark caught on the edge of Virgil’s hoodie sleeve and the mic squealed as Roman dropped the boom and rushed over to smother it.

“Princey, I’m fine! Let’s get the rest of this—”

“Shit!” Roman swore as he slipped on the spreading puddle of water and extinguisher foam in the center of the room. Virgil grabbed him by his sash, pulling him to his feet.

“Gotcha, your Highnessness.”

Off camera, Logan slid closer to Janus. “Are we still filming?”

“Mm-hm. Wine?” he asked, offering a large goblet he’d procured from… somewhere.

Eyebrow raised, Logan accepted the glass and took a slow sip. “Out of everything in the kitchen, this is what you chose to save?”

“Why, yes, of course," he murmured before finishing his own glass and refilling it.

“Acceptable.”

Long after the livestream ended and the kitchen was—mostly—put back into order, the Sides called it a night and, one-by-one sauntered off to bed.

All the Sides but Remus, at least. Well, and Patton.

Remus had waited until everyone else's room had grown quiet and the lights spilling out from under each Side’s door had clicked off. A flickery bluish glow remained under Virgil’s door, but he typically wouldn’t actually fall asleep for another few hours anyway.

Patton’s door, though… Patton’s door had remained closed tight, without even the usual fairy lights brightening the edges of the door frame. And without the happy little sounds of his bedtime playlist.

Patton hadn’t gone to bed.

Taking more care than usual, Remus slipped off his boots and crept downstairs, skipping the creaky third and fifth steps. The living room, kitchen, and hall were dark, the patio door closed and locked with the blinds drawn tight. The clock on the microwave cast long, faint shadows over the kitchen floor and Remus spotted a bit of movement followed by a tiny sound.

He held his breath and waited. There it was again, a soft sniffle.

Dropping to the floor, Remus peered under the kitchen table. Patton sat hunched in the far corner, sweater-clad arms hugging his knees to his chest.

“Oh, hi, Kiddo,” he mumbled, wiping his cheeks against his forearms. “Can’t sleep?” he asked as though Remus was the one hiding alone in the dark.

“Was gonna ask you the same thing, Pattycake.”

“Oh…” Patton didn’t explain what the fuck he was doing down there, cardigan pulled over his potassium bicarbonate and cumin—ha!—stained apron. He just sort of looked down at his hands and pulled his legs up closer to him. Almost like he was making room.

Remus clambered under the table next to him, not quite touching but close enough to smell the smoke in Patton’s hair and clothes. Remus' own clothes smelled like his experiment upstairs and he inhaled the plasticy, acrid scent of burnt dyes and the forever chemicals from the extinguisher. It was even better than the fires for making s’mores at Thomas’ summer camp as a kid.

Remus wiggled his toes, watching Patton from the corner of his eye. He’d tucked his face close to his knees but his cheeks glimmered with new, silent tears. Remus breathed in again. The kitchen would reek of smoke for a long time after this.

“C-A-M—”

“Maybe later?” Patton sniffled. “I’m just not in the mood to sing right now, Kiddo.”

“You sure about that?” Remus scooted a little closer and bumped their shoulders together. “It’ll help if you just sing along…” He waited, watching Patton tap his foot, toes squelching in his still-sopping shoes.

“C-A-M-P…” he began again, slower this time.

“F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song,” Patton sang softly.

“C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song…” Remus repeated.

A little smile cracked across the other Side’s face, softer and more real than it had been all day. “The C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song.” Patton took a breath like he was about to jump into the next verse but he frowned, nose scrunched. “It still smells like burnt air fryer in here, huh?”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, nodding his head with a grin. “We made our mark.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, curling over his knees again.

“Aw, Daddy-o,” Remus bumped his shoulder. “Is that why you’re hiding under here? ‘Cause of the fire?”

“Well, yeah,” Patton frowned, staring back at him. “I really wanted to make a great video. I wanted to… you know… make Thomas proud.”

“Fuck, Pattycake, we did! Have you seen the comments?”

Patton just shook his head so Remus sank them both down into his room where he’d left his laptop open to the video page. Views and comments continued to pour in, hours after the stream had ended. “Look!” he demanded, pushing Patton down into a mostly clean chair.

The Moral Side read quietly, eyes growing wider with each scroll. “They… they liked us?”

“Yeah they did!” Remus slapped his back. “So, whaddya say we make Elf Spaghetti next time? We can even add some Crofters to please the nerd.” Patton’s stomach grumbled and Remus’ grin grew. “You know… we never did eat dinner, Pattycake. How about we give it a trial run tonight?”

“Race you to the kitchen!” Patton laughed and sank down through the floor.

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

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lakesbian · 8 months

Note

*raises hand* alec question for the alec professor. i'm doodling a mistborn era 1 AU for Imp and the Heartbroken (mistborn era 1 is set in, basically, fantasy french revolution) and i need to know, would alec (once escaped from heartbreaker and free to choose his own clothes) still wear fancy 18th century prince outfits if that was Genuinely Unironically the height of mainstream rich people fashion? would he wear the mistborn equivalent of historical clothing in that situation? or a secret third option? another mistborn worldbuilding thing i'm undecided on that might affect it is whether he'd be heartbreaker's legitimate child, raised as a noble, or illegitimate child (character i'm basically roleswapping heartbreaker with has A Lot of bastard children in the hopes that they'll get powers. you see why i chose this roleswap) raised as a Peasant But Worse. feel free to pick either option

answering in reverse order here, and also i do not really know anything about 18th century fashion at all, but:

illegitimate child raised as peasant (crucial aspect of alec's Fancy Little Prince fashion taste is that it's him unconsciously trying to fill the void of being a very deeply unloved and unwanted child by wearing something that portrays him as powerful, prestigious, and luxurious. and also it's him being gay as hell. anyway my point here is that you have to include the void that he's trying to fill, if he's just straight up a regular prince it detracts from his complexes)

subsequently, he actually wears the nicest outfits he can cobble together out of peasant girl clothing while wanting to dress like a princess. because he's gay as hell. really the critical adjustment here is that the base desire remains unchanged but the clothing it's expressed thru has to be modified to actually count as gnc for the context

#ask #worm spoilers #scarf don't look

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star-vessel1237 · 10 months

Text

Armor!Yuu Miscellaneous

Just some micellaneous details of Armor!Yuu

Armor!Yuu’s is respectful, nice, and empathetic, but they also have quite a spiteful and foul mouth

They’re first interaction with some of the students (Ace, Leona, Azul, some mob students, etc.) included mostly of Armor!Yuu communicating with them with notes that had VERY clear insults on them, along with a bit of sarcasm

They polish their armor every other week; they don’t like feeling of rust as it makes them feel slow and stiff

Needless to say, they don’t really like going in the water or rain without protection

Which is why they hated every moment of Chapter 3

Armor!Yuu is good in a fight; it comes from dealing with robbers and teenagers who liked breaking into the museum

Their preferred weapons are a broadsword or battle axe

To make up for not wearing the uniform, Armor!Yuu replaces their plume and cape to those matching in the uniform colors

No one knows how Armor!Yuu is alive, not even themselves

They just sort of came alive at the museum one night, they're not the first exhibit to come alive, but they are certainly the most unique

Sometimes they’ll have flashes of blurry images and sounds on occasion, they can barley make them out though

Armor!Yuu thinks these flashes are their memories, but they’re different each time; it often switches between a old village and a castle to a modern city and schools

One of Armor!Yuu’s “hobbies” is watching different movies they can find online, mostly because it was the only way to entertain them during their nights in the museum

After the First-Years finish a test, no matter the results, Armor!Yuu invites them all to Ramshackle for a movie-night/sleepover

They don’t really put on horror movies when Sebek comes over though, they learned last time his screams are obscenely loud (They felt really bad for Jack)

Leona’s nickname for them is “Bucket-Head”, previously “Scrap-Heap”

I’m not sure what Floyd would nickname Armor!Yuu; I was thinking either “Whale Shark” because of their thick skin being a reference to their armored body or maybe “Clam” for a similar reason

Rook’s nickname for them would be “Chevalier” being the french word for knight

Also during the “The Ghost Marriage” event, they bond with Idia a little since they also got captured by the ghost guards

Eliza: Not only did I find the prince of my dreams, but I also found a charming knight to marry. Oh how blessed am I today.

Idia and Armor!Yuu: WHAT THE HELL, I DIDN’T AGREE TO THIS!?

That’s all for now, hope you enjoy.

#twst au #twisted wonderland #armor!yuu #twst idia #idia shroud #twst first years #first years

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joachimnapoleon · 1 year

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Hello there! In the last few weeks your page turned into one of my favourite places on the internet through your knowledge and your posts about Murat and all around about the napoleonic era. I do wonder: Do you know about Murat‘s relationship with the other marshals? I am aware about your really nice post about Murat‘s relationship with Lannes but what about the others? I believe to have read that Murat disliked Davout. At the other hand he seemed to have a positive relationship with Bernadotte and Ney? I could be wrong though. I hope I do not annoy with that question and wish you a beautiful day. c:

Hello! Glad you’ve been enjoying my page, always nice to see more fans of Murat/the Napoleonic era in general popping up here. ^_^

Regarding Murat’s relationships with his fellow marshals, this is one of those subjects in which the amount of information is frustratingly sparse, so most of my views are just from piecing together what fragments I’ve come across here and there. And my guesswork may very well be wrong; my knowledge about the marshals is nowhere near complete.

Murat & Bernadotte: It’s generally been accepted that they were friends, at least early in their careers, because of their shared revolutionary sympathies and backgrounds. So I was a bit surprised to come across a letter from Murat to Joseph Bonaparte, which I included in my book, in which Murat says he’d resign if Bernadotte were ever given preference over him for a military command, after Bernadotte sided against the Bonapartes on 18 Brumaire. That being said, Murat had invited Bernadotte to his wedding ten months prior to writing that letter (though I’ve always wondered if this was just to nettle Napoleon for having opposed his marriage to Caroline). I really haven’t come across what their relationship was like in later years, but it would be interesting to look into.

Murat & Bessières: These two went off together, as young men from the Lot, to join the Constitutional Guard in 1792. He also attended Murat’s wedding in January 1800. Beyond that, I’ve found depressingly little on their personal relationship. Bessières apparently did become quite close with Eugène de Beauharnais, which does make me wonder if his relationship with Murat might’ve soured at some point, since poor paranoid Murat tended to be one of those “the friend of my enemy is also my enemy” types. Nevertheless, he and Caroline both wrote letters to Bessières’ widow after his death in 1813; sadly I’ve never been able to read them, since they’re in the French Archives.

Murat & Ney: At least during the 1805 campaign, these two didn’t get along very well. Shortly after Murat’s victory at Wertingen, Napoleon placed the entire right wing of the army (which included the corps of Lannes and Ney) under Murat’s orders, which neither Lannes or Ney were happy about. At one point Ney argued with Murat over his dispositions and whipped out a map to show Murat why he was wrong, to which Murat said “I understand nothing of your plans; it is my way to make mine in the presence of the enemy!” The remark stung Ney enough that he threw it back at Murat prior to the attack at Elchingen, in front of Napoleon, turning to Murat and shouting, “Come, Prince, come with me, and make your plans in the presence of the enemy!” But a lot of the campaign-tension stuff shouldn’t be read too deeply into when it comes to analyzing friendships; Murat and Lannes butted heads on campaign too. War is stressful, and generals/marshals wanted to show each other up and win the most prestige. Ney still took the waters at Barèges with Lannes and Murat in July of 1808, so Lannes and Ney were two of the first people with whom Murat got to share the wonderful news that he was officially a king now. I don’t think Murat and Ney ever became particularly close friends, but they at least seemed to get along, and work together, better during the 1812 campaign.

Murat & Soult: Apparently disliked each other, but I haven’t found much mentioning them in relation to each other either way. @josefavomjaaga has posted some excerpts from the memoirs of one of Soult’s aides which mention Soult’s displeasure with Murat though.

Murat & Davout: Their mutual dislike really seems to have crystalized during the 1812 campaign, in which they quarreled repeatedly (at one point Murat wanted to fight him, and Belliard held him back as he was about to head for Davout’s tent with a pistol), culminating with Davout accusing Murat of “black ingratitude” towards Napoleon when Murat was ranting about him at one point. I think they were just an oil-and-water pair, totally incompatible with each other personality-wise, and I also think it grated on Davout (and probably many of the other marshals) that Murat had been made a king by Napoleon by virtue of being an imperial brother-in-law, and that they officially had to refer to him as Your Majesty from then on.

Murat & Berthier: This is an interesting one, and I wish I had more information. Early on, Murat disliked Berthier and seemed to think Berthier had it out for him (and maybe he did, since Murat admitted to having spoken against him; but, again, Murat was kind of a paranoid wreck and thought virtually everybody had it out for him). Between this and the fact that his relationship with Napoleon was on an early down-turn, Murat actually wrote to Barras at the beginning of the Egyptian campaign (I believe from Malta) and asked to be reassigned. At some point though, his relationship with Berthier improved. There are some interesting letters from Berthier to Murat in Murat’s published correspondence which speak to them having a closer relationship. In one, I can’t remember the year off the top of my head but I want to say sometime between 1806-7, Berthier says that he misses the lunches they used to share together. In another from around that time or perhaps 1808, Berthier laments that Murat has been nonresponsive to his previous letters and is clearly wounded by it. In the summer of 1808, Berthier writes Murat another touching letter as Murat is about to become a king, and Berthier regrets that soon he will not be able to write to him with the same effusion. Throughout Murat’s reign, Napoleon would typically leave it to Berthier to kind of “soften the blow,” so to speak, when it came to giving Murat lectures on how he should behave as a king, and to try to soothe his hurt feelings after Napoleon’s typically insensitive reprimands. They both endured Napoleon’s stormy moods during the 1812 campaign and had to figure out how to pick up the pieces together once Napoleon abandoned the army. Berthier initially supported the choice of Murat, due to his rank, to take command rather than Eugène, but soon realized Murat wasn’t capable of handling it, and wrote a ciphered letter to Napoleon saying that he needed to be replaced immediately. I don’t think it was personal; Murat was just terrible under pressure, and wasn’t the right man for that particular job. Anyway, I think anyone would be hard pressed to find two guys who put up with more of Napoleon’s shit over the years than Berthier and Murat, and after 17 or so years of working so closely together and going through so much shared hardship, I can’t help but think they had bonded at least a bit.

Those are the main ones; as far as the other marshals, I haven’t come across enough info on Murat’s relationships with them to have anything to say. If anybody has any more information to add on anything, feel free. :)

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #Napoleon's marshals #Joachim Murat #Louis-Nicolas Davout #Michel Ney #Jean-de-Dieu Soult #Louis-Alexandre Berthier #Jean-Baptiste Bessières #Bernadotte

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samueldays · 11 months

Text

Marcus Ryder: Ignorant moron or hoping for genocide?

The Little Mermaid [ed: 2023] has been criticized by a prominent media diversity advocate for failing to acknowledge the horrors of slavery in the Caribbean. Marcus Ryder, an influential British campaigner who also chairs the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, celebrated the casting of Halle Bailey but took issue with the film’s glossy depiction of racial harmony.

wait for it...

He said that Disney could have set the film in Haiti after it had overthrown the shackles of slavery, with Ariel meeting her prince against the backdrop of burgeoning racial harmony.

extraordinary

For those not up on the history of Haiti, after it had overthrown the shackles of slavery it committed genocide. Literal, kill-the-children-for-having-the-wrong-skin-color genocide. Mass rape was involved too. Jean-Jacques Dessalines might have earned himself a special place in Hell by proclaiming a truce after the first round of slaughter wherein the surviving whites could come out of hiding and get amnesty, but this was a ruse to set up a second round of slaughter on anyone who came out.

This is not what a normal person would call "burgeoning racial harmony".

Do you think mister you-should-acknowledge-the-horrors is failing to acknowledge the nextdoor horrors because he has shit for brains, or because he knows and thinks it was good actually?

Marcus Ryder continues being a disgrace in his blog post:

Haiti was the first Caribbean country to throw off the shackles of slavery and most importantly in its constitution of 1805 explicitly denounces the idea of different “races” proclaiming true equality.

That is a lie.

The Haitian Constitution of 1805 can be read on Wikisource. It does not use explicitly use the word "races" at all. It does, however, engage in explicit racial inequality in Article Twelve, which I quote here:

No whiteman of whatever nation he may be, shall put his foot on this territory with the title of master or proprietor, neither shall he in future acquire any property therein.

I checked the original French just in case there was something funky about the translation: "Aucun blanc, quelle que soit sa nation…"

This guy is deeply incompetent at a topic he's paid to do and has been doing for a long time. He's intensely focused on race race race, and he gets easily checkable things wrong. He's so thoroughly wrong he starts to be an anthropological case study: what are the revealed preferences of a system which employs this guy?

#all #racepol #extraordinary #the death of expertise #or perhaps the death of credentialism

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