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maxsimagination · 2 months

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Can you maybe write a Steph Catley one? Either one where they both are at Arsenal, and they like each other but are oblivious. And when they win a trophy and are out with the team, everybody in the team tries to make them understand that they actually like each other. And then they understand it, then maybe some foreplay? if you understand:)

𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 - 𝙨.𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙮

warnings: some kissing at the end, alcohol

combination of this ask^ and this ask

-----

“stephy!”

i leapt onto the defenders’ back with no warning, catching her off guard as she tried her best to steady both me and herself.

it was the morning training, preparing for the game that night. steph and i were both in the starting lineup, jonas had pulled out his best for this game against london city.

“are you ready for the match, puddin?”

“yea, i’m excited. it’ll be fun.”

we chatted for a bit longer before jonas called all the girls in for a talk about strategies.

i could spot caitlin and katie off to the side, whispering and pointing in our direction. if it was those two plotting together then it could only end in trouble. i nudged at steph’s side, gesturing to the pair.

“what are they doing? looks suspicious.”

“if it’s katie and caitlin then it can only be something troublesome.”

she wasn’t lying, i laughed quietly at steph’s comment. we all dispersed after the talk had finished, everyone breaking off to get started at training.

it was a good session, the team accomplished what we needed to and i felt ready to go up against london city. when we all went back to the changing rooms, katie and caitlin walked up next to me.

“you wanna join us for coffee?”

that was a bit surprising, considering the two would normally be the first to go home and do couple things.

“um, sure? is anyone else coming?”

“nah just us. we wanna catch up.”

katie played it off, and linked arms with me to drag me to their coffee date.

we went to a quaint little cafe away from the training ground. caitlin found a table while katie took me to the counter and ordered an assortment of drinks and some small pastries. we all went to sit back down at the table and i was fixed with an expectant look from caitlin.

“so, you and steph, huh?”

“um, what?”

“y’know, you and steph. you’re always together and glued at the hip.”

“there’s nothing there. she like, 5 years older than me and i swear she has a fiancé.”

katie and caitlin shared a look, one that told me i was missing the whole picture.

“they broke up months and months ago. like almost a year, i think.”

“oh? is she okay? like she’s over him?”

“yea she’s been okay, but i think having you with her makes her feel better.”

that comment made me blush, deep down somewhere i knew there were feelings for my favourite defender. but i refused to acknowledge them in fear of rejection.

katie and caitlin drove me home after our catch up, so i could get ready for the game.

i was still excited with a bit of nerves, but what i couldn’t stop thinking about was caitlin’s comment about how steph felt better with me there.

when it came time for everyone to be at the stadium, i was picked up by steph, she’d made a habit of driving me around since we lived somewhat close to each other.

katie was captaining today, which everyone knew would end in some sort of dramatics, but we were confident we could at least win the game.

it was only when everyone was told to line up in the tunnel did the nerves come back in full force.

i felt a reassuring hand on the small of my back, turning around to see it was steph.

“you got this. score some goals puddin’.”

the nerves settled a bit at steph’s words, but didn’t die completely. we all walked out, lining up alongside the referee.

katie led the line to shake the officials’ hands then continued on to shake hands with the opposition.

i saw ruesha in the lineup and knew immediately that there would be yellow cards, whether that be for arsenal or london city? only time would tell.

arsenal did win that game.

4-0

it was a win for the ages, and a grand celebration.

when the final whistle was blown, the entire team including subs ran onto the field to join together in a huge hug. it was more like a pile of bodies, but the joy of winning the trophy seems to have overpowered everyone’s rational thought.

we all traipsed down to the locker rooms after doing some rounds with the fans. katie still had a hold of the trophy, waving it round like it was a flag.

“we need to go celebrate!”

the thick irish accent of the vice-skipper rang out and was met with cheers.

“katie we have celebrated.”

“no, properly. waving a trophy round isn’t celebrating, y/n.”

her cocky grin accompanied her words, making it all the more evident that she was making everyone come out to a bar to ‘celebrate’.

we all ended up going to the closest bar we could find. everyone had gone to their respective homes to change then were promptly dragged back out by, you guessed it, katie.

she was the first to shout the round of drinks, insisting everyone have some liquid confidence. when katie passed me my drink, it was accompanied by a shot glass.

i looked at the irish woman with a questionable look, where she smirked and mouthed ‘bottoms up’.

so i did just that.

i grabbed the shot glass, with still no clue what was in it and downed the whole thing. i could tell it was tequila immediately but made no move for a chaser.

i felt eyes on me from my side and turned to find steph’s gaze fixed on me. she was staring, but with a look of what i thought was admiration in her eyes. when she noticed i’d caught her, her cheeks flushed a pink hue and she smiled down at her glass.

throughout the course of the night, katie (and caitlin) were essentially feeding me drinks, pestering me to come up and dance with them.

eventually i gave in and they excitedly grabbed my hands and ran to the dance floor.

we were just vibing to the music, i wa s mostly observing katie and caitlin do the dancing. that was until, both of the girls just disappeared and i felt a presence behind me. i turned to find steph walking up to me.

“care to dance?”

“sure.”

i grinned up at the defender. we kind of just swayed around to the music until a catchy song came on and all the alcohol katie had gotten me started working.

i was jumping around, begging steph to join in, which she did, and we both just kept dancing around with each other.

when that song ended, steph slowed us down, and we moved around a bit before we stood off to the side.

“y/n, can i say something?”

“sure stephy, what’s up?”

i could feel something in my gut, like she was going to tell me something important.

“i really like you.”

i didn’t react right away, i let the information fully enter my brain first before looking steph dead in the eye.

she was a bit taller than me so i was looking slightly upwards, but then i leant up on my tip-toes and pressed my lips to hers.

it was only after i’d actually kissed her that i re-thought my actions, freaked out and decided to pull away. but before i could do that, steph’s fingers would their way up to the nape of my neck and grasped my hair, stopping me from pulling away.

only when we needed a breath did we break apart.

“i take it you like me back then, yea?”

i nodded quickly, then remember to use my words.

“yea. yea i like you a lot.”

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #steph catley #steph catley x reader #steph catley imagine

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workingclasshistory · 10 months

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On this day, 14 June 1381, during the peasants’ revolt in England, Wat Tyler’s rebel army of some 50,000 to 100,000 people captured London Bridge and the Tower of London. There they killed the chancellor, Archbishop Simon of Sudbury, and the treasurer, Sir Robert Hales. (Content note: sexual assault) The rebellion had broken out in May in protest at the imposition of a poll tax on everyone aged fifteen and over, which exacerbated the economic hardship of workers and the poor. People were also enraged by the brutality of tax inspectors, who measured people’s pubic hair to determine their age, which was seen as state-sanctioned sexual assault, particularly in the case of girls and women. The rebellion soon developed into a deep and sophisticated social movement demanding radical changes to feudal society and peaked with the taking of the Tower. On June 15, Wat Tyler attended a parley with the king Richard II, where he was murdered. Realising his weak position, Richard promised the rebels that he would implement many of their demands, including the abolition of the tax, and even the abolition of forced labor and serfdom, but, while the poll tax was ended, once the rebels had dispersed and returned home, they were no longer a threat, so Richard reneged on all of his other pledges and hanged 1,500 of them. It was a brutal but important lesson not to trust the promises of the powerful. Pictured: a painting of the treasurer being killed For this and hundreds of other stories, get hold of our book, Working Class History: Everyday Acts of Resistance & Rebellion, available with global shipping: https://shop.workingclasshistory.com/products/working-class-history-everyday-acts-resistance-rebellion-book https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=644029537770265&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

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mvltisstuff · 8 months

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can I request a jonah hauer king fic where they're both famous and can't spend a lot of time w each other, angst to fluff?

you’re losing me - j.h.k

summary: request

jonah hauer king x reader

a/n: and i wouldn’t marry me either 😁 a pathological people pleaser 😁

“i don’t think i can make it on friday, darling,” jonah says, his sullen voice through y/n’s speakerphone. she could almost predict that was what he was going to say. it’s almost been one night a week together, despite the years of a relationship.

due to the little mermaid release, jonah’s career has been at an all-time high. y/n’s never felt prouder of a person before, let alone the man that she loves. this is all she’s wanted for him, his dreams to come true and it’s finally happening. every time she sees him on that screen, or on that carpet, her heart is flooded with love.

“are you sure?” she questions, the sound of defeat seeping through her words.

“i have the premiere, and i’m going to be doing press with halle as well,” he adds, only to confirm that he cannot make it to y/n’s show. y/n swears she can hear her heart crumble in her chest, hearing the muffled crack of glass.

“ok,” she tells him, simply but leaving it at that.

“i’m sorry, love, i don’t make my schedule though.”

“i know, it’s just you haven’t been to a single show for this tour. and i’m playing in london this weekend.”

“i get that, it just happened to fall on a terrible weekend. i tried to negotiate it but it doesn’t work that way. i’m so sorry, y/n.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” y/n replies, trying not to let any sass or hurt come through the phone. “i really wanted you to be there.”

“y/n, i don’t know what you want me to do. i wish you could be at the premieres, but you have your tour to worry about.”

“i don’t need you to do anything, baby,” she rubs her eyes with her fingers, letting them rest on her face. “and i’ve tried to make it to the events, i swear. im just glad i even made it to the ones i got to go to.”

“it just makes me feel bad, i don’t want you to think i haven’t been there for you.”

“that’s the complete opposite, jonah. i know you support me, and i want you to know that im here for you, even if im not there physically.”

“i love you, y/n. i have to go shoot for a bit, but i’ll call you tonight?”

“i love you, too,” she tells him, leaving just the sound of a kiss through the phone. she throws it back down on the bed, laying on her side and pretending his arms were around her.

it’s never easy being separated from someone you’ve grown so close to. both of their careers have skyrocketed, but their naïvety never realized how difficult it can be to have love and fame.

so, when y/n closed her eyes that night, she simply dreamed of jonah being next to her.

the friday came too quickly around the corner, still no signs that jonah would be able to attend. before changing into her concert outfit, she spoke through her several mics, asking if jonah had said anything, but alas, there were barely any messages. until right before she went on stage, she got a few words from her assistant.

“hey, jonah texted to say good luck, and that he’s sorry.”

y/n could only nod, not wanting her upset to come across as clear to her fans. she never realized how one small thing could ruin the magic of a night. however, she painted a bright smile onto her mouth, her bright beam soon being revealed onto the massive screens around the stadium.

she forced herself to sing through each of her songs for the tour, the thrilling fans in her ears. she never gets tired of seeing the people who come here just for her, but if she’s being honest, she’s tired of missing jonah.

when the lights went dark at the end of each set, her cheeks were finally relieved of the fraudulent grin on her face.

the show finally came to an end, the encore being finished and the fans starting to disperse. y/n slipped on a jacket over her sparkly costume, and followed her crew out to her area to get unready. she just wanted to go home and be able to be held by jonah, but then she was confronted that home would just be another lonesome place without him.

she walked with a lack of pep to her room, connecting her warm palm to the cool metal of the doorknob. she opened the door slowly, only to see jonah’s handsome figure on the couch in her room.

“that might’ve been my favorite performance yet,” he smiles, sitting up from the back of the couch. y/n releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding, rushing over to let herself fall into his arms on the couch. the exhaustion from the show tonight started to really take over her body, but it still couldn’t outweigh the feeling of joy that she gained from seeing jonah.

“how did you get here?” she asks, gleefully.

“i pushed a few things around, i left a little early.” he informs her, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she sits and places her head on his shoulder. “you planned this showtime for me, and i didn’t even think about it.”

“you’re here, and you have no fucking idea how much that means to me,” y/n connects her lips with his, letting the kiss come together perfectly. she can taste the faint champagne on his lips, seeing a photo of him drinking it with cast mates earlier. the comforting smell of his strong cologne filled her nose. even after running around a stage, with imperfect makeup, y/n still looked like N angel in jonah’s eyes.

“let’s go home, love,” he gleams against her lips, getting the same bewitching grin that he adores in return.

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2manyfandoms2count · 2 months

Text

Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message.

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned.

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too.

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other.

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper.

Dear Adrien,

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about.

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral.

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce.

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation.

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks.

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands.

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is.

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life.

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.”

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring.

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was…

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had.

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really).

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified.

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave.

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned.

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper.

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff.

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged.

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ”

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter.

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter.

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me…

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything.

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.)

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon,

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.”

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back…

Forever yours,

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back.

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail.

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message.

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze.

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said.

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could.

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair.

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest.

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever.

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier.

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.”

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off.

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister.

She truly was the lucky one.

#honestly this event was so fun #and now i have a bunch of fics that fit both of my hyperfixations waiting for me #post exams is going to be litttt #miraculous ladybug #taylor swift #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #prpr #adrienette #canon divergence #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #they're in love your honour #and they have one (1) braincell #elle writes

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whencyclopedia · 8 months

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Pilgrimage of Grace

The Pilgrimage of Grace is the collective name for a series of rebellions in northern England, first in Lincolnshire and then in Yorkshire and elsewhere between October and December 1536 CE. Nobles, clergy, monks, and commoners united to oppose both the decision of Henry VIII of England (r. 1509-1547 CE) to split the Church in England from Rome and his policy of closing monasteries and confiscating their estates, the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Other grievances included the fear of new taxes and confiscation of Church property and a general lack of political representation in the north of England. The Pilgrimage of Grace, so-called because its participants considered themselves 'pilgrims', did not threaten London, but it was the largest rebellion of the Tudor period (1485-1603 CE). The 40,000 protestors were dispersed by the threat of armed force and false promises of pardons and reforms but, ultimately, many of the leaders, including the lawyer Robert Aske and Lord Darcy, were executed as traitors and Henry continued apace with the Reformation in England.

Learn more about Pilgrimage of Grace

#History #HenryVIIIofEngland #Peasants'Revolt #PilgrimageofGrace

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scotianostra · 3 months

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January 17th 1746 saw the second Battle of Falkirk.

Also called the Battle of Falkirk Muir, this was a battle during, what is known as the ‘45 uprising.

Following his defeat at the Battle of Prestonpans, Sir John Cope was replaced by Lieutenant General Henry Hawley as commander-in-chief of the royal forces in Scotland. During the latter part of 1745 Prince Charles’s Jacobite Army marched south towards London.

Prince Charles got no further than Derby before turning back and marching into the North of Scotland where it joined the Jacobite forces besieging Major General Blakeney in Stirling Castle.

Lieutenant-General Hawley led his army from Edinburgh to relieve Blakeney and arrived at Falkirk for the final approach, where the Government troops encamped. On 17th January 1746 the Jacobites were seen marching up onto Falkirk Moor to the south west of the town.

Word was sent to Hawley in his lodgings, who, at first refused to believe the rebels could be advancing. Finally he galloped into the camp.

Hawley ordered his army to march up onto the moor. The weather had broken and it was raining hard. It was also nearly dark, the rain caused the artillery to become stuck in the mud at the bottom of the hill, depriving Hawley of an important asset for the battle.

Hawley ordered his dragoons to charge. The dragoons approached the highlanders and received a volley which caused them to break and flee down the hill back to Falkirk. The highlanders then attacked the two lines of foot soldiers

Most of the Government regiments fled, other than three regiments that held their ground; Ligonier’s, Barrel’s and Price’s. These three regiments met the highland charge with steady volleys before withdrawing in good order back down the hill to their camp, Barrel’s grenadiers attaching themselves to the traces of abandoned guns and dragging them into the camp.

The Jacobites had become considerably dispersed in the murky conditions and many of them were in doubt as to who had won the battle, which had lasted around twenty minutes.

As soon as the government regiments reached their camp they headed off towards Edinburgh in considerable disarray. The reports indicate that the royal army lost around 350 men killed, wounded and missing. Some 300 were captured. The highlanders lost some 50 dead and 70 wounded.

In Edinburgh the Duke of Cumberland arrived to take over command on 30th January 1746.

The pics show a contemporary map of the battlefield, a government broadsheet asking for women volunteers and the monument to the battle I took in May 2020.

For those interested in the events as they happened in the Outlander world I took this from Outlander wiki;

A few days before the actual battle, Claire and Jamie find themselves sequestered in a church on Falkirk Hill with several of the MacKenzie clan following a skirmish with English troops. Rupert MacKenzie is injured and dies inside the church. Ultimately, Claire pretends to be a hostage so that the Highlanders can bargain her release in exchange for their own escape.

#scotland #scottish #history #battle #'45 uprising #Jacobites

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belle-keys · 1 year

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Incoherent Thoughts: Chain of Thorns by Cassandra Clare

Wow, haven't done one of these in about a year, I think. Here it is. The review of the book I've been waiting for since The Bane Chronicles. I gave my initial impressions of Chain of Thorns to my friends a couple of hours after I finished (operating on two brain cells only), and that was short and messy. This one is not short. It’s messy though, I’ll give you that.

TLDR: I loved this book so very much (despite my numerous issues with aspects of it). Here are the Incoherent Thoughts (a mix of critical and purely emotional reactions to the story. I've been waiting for this since 2014; of course, I frickin loved it despite everything).

Things that will tear me apart: The legacy of Clockwork Princess

There is nothing that could have gotten me to really hate this book. I've been waiting for it since 2014 and it was just so beautiful. It gave me the perfect mixture of comfort, nostalgia, excitement, and curiosity. These characters are my babies - probably more of my babies than Herongraystairs were, since I was 17 myself when GOTSM dropped and when the leadup to ChoG started. I was so happy to immerse myself in the same world that started when Tessa Gray popped into London in 1878 and I loved it here. Moreover, I think compared to TDA, TLH as a trilogy felt more polished and immersive. I really felt like this was a story that started in 2010 and which has grown like a vine with the generations of readers from back then (moving childhood to adulthood, like me), but also with the generation of characters in the story (who we also got to see grow up).

Moreover, Matthew's arc was perfect, and so I'm happy. Matthew was always going to be a core determining factor for me.

The core of the story: Love and Family

The Epilogue broke me, but in the good way. It really did. It was not as bittersweet or as sad or as mysterious or as all-encompassing as Cassie's other epilogues. But it was beautiful, and when I read:

Cordelia's heart was too full for speech. Without a word, she caught hold of her husband's hand. Side by side with James, Cordelia ran.

I felt so warm. The Epilogue felt like warmth, and it reminded me of the original Hyde Park picnic in Chain of Gold where Cordelia had just come to London and thought there was no future for her and when she hadn't yet come into herself. In a sense, I felt like we were reverting to that innocence and sense of peace at the start of Chain of Gold by ending off the trilogy in Hyde Park, with a dispersion of the characters to different parts of the world instead of a gathering to London. And likewise, March 2020, when ChoG dropped, is the same month when the pandemic started and all the universal awfulness on the planet turned up to 100. Now as the pandemic has retreated and I'm in a better place myself, the ending felt so fitting (as it pertains to James and Cordelia).

I mean, the book was about how the power of love and family, and unity can destroy and overcome even the most powerful forces in Hell, which is pretty powerful (meta on this coming soon). James healing Matthew for an entire night straight? Jordelia's pure love (and horniness) breaking the gracelet that was forged by a Prince of Hell? That's just so beautiful and perfect to me, the way Cassie shows how love prospers. I also think the book is about how secrecy and lies and falseness are actually more detrimental to love than massive acts of evil. Secrets and lies and the rigidity of society are the main conflicts of this series (I will update my current meta on this). Thematically, this story was an okay homage to Great Expectations but, just thematically, I thought it was perfect.

James, Cordelia, and Jordelia

Jordelia are the crux of the story. They truly love each other. Their love is so damn powerful. Like there's no doubting it. They really got back to each other through Hell and back. This is the kinda thing I read TSC for. This aspect of the story was beautiful and perfect, and at the core of James and Cordelia's relationship is something real and pure and good and strong - it's very storybookish. It succeeds in being very Layla and Majnun, in being very dramatic and earth-shattering and epic (in the Greek way). The endgame happened, and it was lovely. It reiterates the notion that goodness and love (God) will always defeat evil (Lucifer).

I now want to unequivocally state that Jordelia pissed me off for most of Chain of Thorns. Not even in the “I’m mildly frustrated” way. They're awful communicators, they lack cunning, and they both have way too much pride for their own good. They both also spent most of the series having no agency whatsoever, which is very annoying because they can only be victims who later become generic hero figures instead of anything more complex. Cordelia was tricked into becoming a paladin of Lilith and tricked into thinking her husband was being unfaithful to her. James was tricked into becoming infatuated with someone he didn't love and was literally fighting against the demonic inheritance he was born with - nothing has ever been James’ fault ever. Cordelia and James were victims for most of the trilogy, and I don't think they had to make difficult choices or ever had the need to possess any moral complexity. That pissed me off more and more throughout the story: the unwavering goodness and nobility and braveness that they inherently possessed. And I'm assuming this is by virtue of their last names being... Herondale... and... Carstairs. Cough. There is no plot armor stronger than being the children/descendants of the two most beloved characters in TSC. And boy, it fricking showed.

I'm not like, mad anymore. It's more of a me thing where I'm tired of morally perfect characters. And adding to the fact that James and Cordelia are so sheltered, rich asf, and also grew up among love and joy? James and Cordelia can... only do good, and can only be hurt by evil. They have never had enough agency in context of the narrative to choose to do something actually wrong. It's annoying. But I forgive them, it's fine. The biggest thing TLH suffers from is that James is Wessa's child (which is ironic, because that's why a lot of people even started reading TLH). James is like, great!, as a gentleman - he's attractive and well read and a great dancer and loves poetry and is rich and has manners and is handsome and is kind and is loving and is passionate and is the ideal bachelor, we get it. James Herondale is also clearly incapable of doing any wrong in his life and never had to make a single difficult choice besides to maybe self-sacrifice himself and then immediately get healed. So. Nothing bad was ever actually going to happen to James or Cordelia, or get in the way of their love. The narrative's duty was clearly to protect James in CHoT.

EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE THING! THERE WAS ONE THING THAT COULD HAVE GOTTEN IN THE WAY OF JORDELIA AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN INTERESTING AND COMPLEX AND IT DID LOWKEY KINDA PLAY OUT KIND OF THE WAY I WAS EXPECTING AND IT'S STILL KINDA UNRESOLVED BUT I WANTED MORE AND UGH CASSIE WAS SUCH A COWARD IN CHOT.

As for Cordelia, it's still a very mixed bag for me. I mean, she's one of the few brown women in YA fantasy who aren’t defined by fricking racial trauma or colonialism or genocide as part of her character arc. She's just a woman who happens to be brown. And she's so feminine and genteel and elegant and passionate and strong and loving, all qualities I live about her. She wants to come into her true self, and I see that struggle to find her place in the world and to find stability as her main internal conflict. I love her for that. But I also got tired of the fact that she lacks a single devious bone in her body. She is generally very oblivious and rather egotistical. She's simultaneously way too naive and proud for me to root for her all the time, and those qualities were never actually something she had to pay for in a significant way - Cassie has made her, like James, untouchable by the narrative. I love her, I really do, but I wanted to violently shake her.

Grace and Christopher

So, I have not properly processed that Kit is dead, and I may never. Moving on.

Anyways, I couldn't actually believe that the one person that did not hate Grace died. The one person that does not scorn Grace died. Grace's ending was... disappointing to me (I'll talk about this more in my Problems section). Grace is the most morally complex female character Cassie has written in TSC (I said what I said). All I wanted was for the gang to simply understand her. Not to forgive, or to forget, but just to see what she did and see why she did it. I wanted James to see and understand why she would do something so despicable. But James and Cordelia and the gang have simply decided to move on from Grace, not to understand her. They're brushing it off. That wasn't nearly good enough for me because I love Grace so much and I maintain she will be the most relatable character in the TLH for people in the real world.

I can't think of a good reason why Grace wasn't told about how Tatiana literally bought her, or why everyone else wasn't told that information or why that info didn't become public in the Enclave either. I can't think of a good reason why she isn't going to live with other Cartwrights or in the literal London Institute instead of among a bunch of people who will always kinda hate her. I think she has redeemed herself: she confessed what she did to Jesse, Cordelia, and Kit. Willingly. She helped them save London with science. She abandoned her mother and her mother's evil. She’s recognized what she’s done. But not enough was done in the story to close off her arc in a satisfying way, at least not for me. I also think making that one (1) Great Expectations quote about her siblingship with Jesse was a cop-out, because she should have said it platonically to James instead. But whatever.

Lucie and Jesse

Spent most of ChoG and ChoI not really caring about either of them only to start to like them both so much in ChoT? Jesse Blackthorn? What a man. And I warmed up to Lucie a lot. I feel like she didn't do all that much in this book, to be honest, but that's okay. I liked them both and I love how Jesse's meshed with the squad. On a side note, Lucie and Cordelia have the least compelling female friendship in the whole of TSC. I cannot properly grasp how or why they want to be parabatai. Like even their messiness isn't good or compelling messiness, so.

Matthew

He's getting a review post as long as this one on Friday or Saturday. It’ll be absurd for me to try to tackle his character here.

He is about to take over my life (again). His character arc was amazing. But moreover, I think he's the most... interesting character in the trilogy. Interesting in the purest sense of the word. He's the character I feel I understand best in TSC, and yet, I can't truly figure him out. He is either my No.2 or No.3 character in the whole of TSC right now. Matthew Fairchild is perfect. He is too good for everything ever. He, in his own way, carried the emotional aspect of the story for me. Which again speaks to how interesting Matthew is, as he doesn't get POVs. (I am genuinely trying to figure out how to express what I want to express right now.) Matthew could have like... changed everything, in a way, like he’s so powerful. Matthew's emotional state at the end of ChoT actually has changed everything, for me. I also think Matthew has managed to be the most subversive character in TLH, based on that ending alone. Matthew is an inherently jarring character, thematically, but also execution-wise. I hope Cassie knows how excellently he has maneuvered his character.

Everyone else

Alastair, Thomas, Anna, Ariadne, and the parents were all great. Tatiana was also a compelling villain (not as much as Malcolm or Sebastian, but I love her more than Valentine and Mortmain). That part when Jesse told her that Will, Tessa and the Enclave don’t hate her because they don’t even think of her was just *chef’s kiss*. I have to zone in on Alastair over the rest: Alastair was brilliant. He had the most perfect character arc besides Matthew, and also the ideal redemption arc. He didn’t just change his actions and compensate for them, but he became so loving and tender and protective throughout the story. I loved it. I’m so thrilled at how his story ended. I could have done with more adult Wessa. But the pieces and bits I actually got were both extremely in-character and hilarious and had me in fits of giggles. I love Will Herondale so damn much, it’s crazy.

Framework (Wessa, Charles Dickens, The Bible and Classic Literature)

The foundation of this book was responsible for its highs and lows. Starting with the great things: I think this book managed to be Cassie’s most “religious” work yet, and I adore that. That end sequence taking place in the literally Abbey was exquisite. The setup for a final battle between the Shadowhunters and Lucifer for TWP is there. The whole idea of love and goodness and self-sacrifice (manifested through Jordelia) defeating the powers of Hell is the most Judeo-Christian thing ever. The intersection between literature and religion was absolutely there too - from the Milton and Dante references to themes of Hell and reminders of the Fall. Another great thing that I enjoyed throughout the trilogy was the importance classic literature and poetry. Cordelia and James falling in love as children while she read Layla and Majnun to him is something that kinda makes me kinda tear up the more I think about it. The way the literature of the time period is integrated into the setting as well is awesome.

I think ChoT does not deliver as Dickens-inspired piece. Where was “to the last hours of my life, Daisy”? Why was the last third of the book so damn awful for Grace (the woman on the cover???)? The book also did not need any Epic Battle Sequence to begin with - TLH, like GE, is a book about the relationship between the individual and social codes. I have no idea why Hell and Heaven were raining fires over London for a third of th book. The tone and structure did not mesh well with a battle sequence, and so I felt like the romance and subtlety of TLH being a GE-inspired series was lost there. Likewise, another flaw that the story unintentionally suffers from is that this series… enumerates the events that took place in a generation that followed that of Wessa. And so neither James or Cordelia (*cough* a Carstairs and a Herondale *cough*) were never in real danger. For a moment I was hoping we’d get something dark and twisted or bittersweet, but then I realized… she’s never putting Herongraystairs’ direct lineage through something that screwy. The narrative existed to protect Jordelia. This book suffers from the fact that the narrative continuing to shelter and coddle James and Cordelia, similar to how they literally grew up sheltered and oblivious by virtue of having their specific last names and the associated plot armor.

Problems (many)

Kit’s death was a cop-out. She needed to kill someone, and it had to be someone important, but not too important. And not an obviously marginalized character. His death changed nothing in the story. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have died; I just thought it was poorly executed. It also didn’t help me that the one person who saw the good and the bad in Grace… is dead.

Grace’s character arc ended awfully. It would have made sense for her to kill Tatiana, and not Cordelia. But it also doesn’t help that she’s living on the fringes of society, given that said society literally hates her. The fact that she couldn’t even… stay at the Institute? The most negative things I have to say about the book are related to Grace’s arc. She’s like, been the most complex and compelling female character in TSC in a hot minute. I’m having trouble accepting the scorn she’s faced.

Edom - that sequence was ridiculous and unnecessary. The only good part of it was Heronchild, but they didn’t need to be specifically in Edom for that to go down the way it did. Lucie and Cordelia literally went to Edom to get in a portal which took them right back to London, because drama. There was no reason for the Edom trip.

No accountability or consequences - Grace and the gracelet? Forgiven and forgotten; no consequences. Jesse being raised from the dead and also them lying about his identity to the Enclave for most of the book? Forgiven and forgotten; no consequences. Matthew breaking Shadowhunter law with the whole potion debacle that cost a lot of people a lot of things? Forgiven and forgotten; no consequences. Cortana literally being able to do any and every thing the plot needs it to do, and Cordelia being the only one ever who can do it, is also quite convenient. Sure that isn’t coincidental. Like let’s have James stab himself and then we’ll Cortana Ex Machina as we see fit, don’t worry. James and Cordelia not having put on their second weddings runes until ages after they were expected to do so? Solved in one sentence in the Epilogue.

Not bittersweet (except for Matthew - only his ending was bittersweet). Grace’s ending was bitter, and everyone else’s, except Matthew, was sweet. None of the serious magical issues and the sinister secrets had any lasting effect or consequences. It was very much a happy ever after type of story; and everyone seems to have forgotten that Christopher’s very much unalive.

Sona just… had the baby. Everything was fine. Even after years of teasing that that would be more significant. Not even a Thomastair adoption, and none of the “mystery baby” theories she was teasing came though. What else was I supposed to say except… okay. Likewise, the whole explanation for why the Family Tree we’ve been teased about for a decade being screwy was weak. I just kind of zoned out. Like that whole Esme Hardcastle thing was stupid, since Cassie was giving a lot of hints about how that was supposed to go down, about why the Carstairs records are missing, and all of them involved Jem. But nothing actually “wow” happened. I suspect a lot of retconning happened. I’m sad.

Random Thoughts and Conclusion

It’s quite good that Will had refused Cortana in CP2 and that Cordelia will pass it on to baby Zachary instead of, uh, Owen Herondale, so it could have reached Emma. I’ve been, in my daze, entertaining ideas of “lmfao, imagine if Jace had ended up with Cortana and literally accidentally killed God with it, because that’s absolutely something Jace would do”. Jace, Angel Boy Extraordinary, would have beeen able to destroy Thanos with that sword.

Casual reminders of Matthew being rich and pretty and dainty are just… I love it here.

Jesse didn’t do much in this book, but he was quite funny. Like he’s unintentionally hilarious.

Anna asking Cordelia if she was pregnant felt like a personal attack against ME. I was like, one of the first idiots post-ChoI that started all the whatifs about Matthew and Cordelia and… Clary. Those theory posts still have like hundreds of notes. I was very wrong about all of my theories. It’s fine. I’ll be haunted by what so easily could have happened or not happened. But it’s fine. Ha.

Where was the Layla? The chess boards? Why was the fricking globe necklace A HOLDER FOR FOUR LINES OF GEORGE GORDON BYRON. JAMES PUT FOUR LINES FROM THE MOST GENERIC OF THE ROMANTIC ENGLISH ANGST LORDS INTO THE LOCKET??? No no no no no…

Oscar Wilde (doggo) was amazing. He’s a good boy. I think @lifeofbrybooks said that Oscar had a better character arc than some characterss. So accurate.

Hidden away, on Cassie’s hard drive, I really believe there’s a Secret Truer Original Chain of Thorns that exists. So many things felt like they were changed or omitted last minute…

Anyway, thanks to @eclecticdonutzippercroissant @amchara @benjamingross and @timesconvert for listening to me read this book. And for the fun calls and theorizing with me. Special thanks to Jenn for literally putting up with me when I put my clothes on and physically went for a long walk outside “to feel the Caribbean air on my face” before starting Chapter 23. Special thanks to Gill for validating me with her existence. I’m gonna have a lot of meta and memes coming up, in addition to moodboards and playlists. Stay tuned. And if you’re new here, check out my old stuff and accept my apologies (*generally speaking*).

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beardedmrbean · 5 months

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Three men have been arrested after football fans became involved in a racist attack at Waterloo station on Armistice Day.

British Transport Police had released images of four men wanted in connection with a “racially aggravated altercation” at the London station.

Social media footage showed some men behaving aggressively and squaring up to passengers. One branded those filming him as “terrorist c----”.

The incident took place at around 5.30pm on Saturday shortly after a pro-Palestinian protest had dispersed from the station.

One of the men captured in the footage wore an Arsenal shirt.

A spokesperson for British Transport Police said: “Three men have been arrested in connection with a racially aggravated altercation which took place at London Waterloo Station on Saturday 11 Nov.

“A 57-year old from Surbiton, a 61-year old from West Molesey and a 33-year old from Christchurch are currently in police custody.”

On Saturday the Metropolitan Police said 145 arrests had been made after clashes involving police, the far-Right and pro-Palestine protesters in the centre of the capital.

In a public appeal on X, formerly known as Twitter, the Met also shared images of individuals they were seeking in relation to hate crimes following Saturday’s pro-Palestinian demonstration.

One image showed a smiling woman holding a poster of a palm tree with cut-outs of the faces of the Prime Minister and Suella Braverman, the now former home secretary, among coconuts on a beach.

Speaking on his first Remembrance Sunday as Defence Secretary, Grant Shapps said that despite the “deplorable” actions from the troublemakers seen on Saturday, Britain would rise above such hatred.

Speaking after he laid his wreath at the Cenotaph, Mr Shapps said: “Right across the country our Armed Forces, veterans and local communities united to commemorate the fallen and remind the world that Britain is a nation of heroes, not hate.”

The Defence Secretary said that the focus of this year’s Remembrance weekend should have been on commemorating “the brave men and women of our Armed Forces”.

“Remembrance weekend should solely be about paying tribute to their outstanding service and extraordinary sacrifice - especially remembering those that have given their today for our tomorrow,” he added.

“Shamefully extremist thugs and racist demonstrators tried to distract us from this moment of national reflection. The actions we have seen from these troublemakers are deplorable and must be met with the full force of the law.”

#nunyas news

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thatscarletflycatcher · 3 months

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This is one of the most smirk worthy moments of the first volume of Charles de Gaulle's war memoirs:

"... on October 7th [1941] I addressed a note to Mr. Churchill to update him on our wishes and means [to have the Free French engaged in the North African front]... At the same time, I wrote to general Auchinleck, commander in chief of the east, to remind him of how much we wanted our troops to fight in Libya... On October 9th I visited Mr. Margesson, War minister of Great Britain, and I begged him to intervene. Finally, on October 30th, I instructed general Catroux on the conditions in which it was convenient that our forces were employed, that is, in big units.

I did not receive any British response until November 27th. It was addressed by general Ismay and Mr. Churchill. Their letter was the equivalent to a rotund rejection, as polite as it was sharp. To explain their refusal, our allies appealed to "the dispersion of the French units across different spots in Syria", the fact that "they were not trained to act as divisions or brigades", and finally, "the insufficiency of their equipment". They expressed, however, the wish that, sometime in the future, the question could be re-evaluated.

The English command was evidently planning on achieving the conquest of Libya and ending Rommel without the French. It is true that they had there considerable land and air forces, and that they believed admiral Andrew Cunningham -magnificent chief and sailor- to be in a position to do more than miracles, by intercepting the communications between Italy and Tripolitania.

It is to be easily imagined the disappointment that the English answer produced in me. I could not allow our troops to remain inactive for time indefinite, while the fate of the world was being sorted in battle. I would rather risk a change of direction. And so, then, I called Mr. Bogomolov and I asked him to make his government know that the National Comittee wished for some French forces to participate directly in the allied operations on the Eastern Front, in case the North African theater was closed to them. I, naturally, made no secret in London of my negotiation.

Even before I received an answer from Moscow, the British intentions had already changed. On December 7th, Mr. Churchill wrote to me a warm letter to tell me that "he had just learned how much general Auchinleck wished to employ a Free French brigade in the Cirenaic operations". "I know", the Prime Minister added, "that this intention matches your own wishes. I am also aware the eagerness your men have of meeting the German face to face."...

At Cairo, Catroux arranged then, with general Auchinleck, the departure towards Libya of the first light division, while Koenig, in charge of negotiating the details, obtained from our allies, a useful bonus in anti-tank materials, anti-aerial guns, and means of transport...

But, if the first light division got an opportunity, nothing was being done for the second one, which languished in the East. And I was determined to see that one taking part as well in the operations. Precisely, on December 10th, Mr. Bogomolov had come to tell me that my project of sending French troops to Russia had been warmly received by his government, and that it was willing to facilitate to our forces on the spot all the necessary material. I began, then, to consider the expedition East, of not only the aviation group Normandie [which, according to De Gaulle, was the only element of the Western allies that fought on the Eastern Front], but of the second light division as well. This one, departing from Syria through Baghdad, would cross Persia in trucks and then, from Tabriz, would be transported by train to the Caucasus... On December 29th I wrote to general Ismay communicating to him my intentions, while at the same time giving the necessary instructions to general Catroux. The second light division was to depart on March 15th towards the Caucasus, unless it was admitted before that to Libya.

The British command opposed this project of moving this unit to Russia with all the possible objections. But in Moscow, on the contrary, the Soviets made a deal of it. Molotov speaking to Garreau, and Panfilov to Petit, asked us to put it in practice. Mr. Eden, once acquainted with this, entered the fray and wrote to me to support the point of view of the English military authorities. I could do nothing but defend my own, and it was the one that in the end was adopted by the end of February by the allied command. Ismay communicated it to me. Auchinleck asked Catroux to put at his disposition the second light division. This one left Syria and arrived at Libya the last days of March.

De Gaulle: you are sorry you think my divisions aren't good enough? That that is the reason why you cannot include them? No problem, I'm gonna ask Stalin if they are too poor for him as well. Well, well, well, would you look at that, apparently the Russians would be delighted and can provide what we are lacking. Oh, now they are good enough for the desert campaign all of a sudden? That's what I thought.

Iconic.

#WWII #Charles de Gaulle #History #the more I read the more impressed I am that this guy managed to get anything done

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observeowl · 10 months

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Right By Your Side | Chapter 18 - Wimbledon

Summary: In the world where wearing glasses makes you a different person. You were forced to swallow a pill that turned you into seven years old. Now, you're living with your crush in a small form, what would you do? Who were the ones who brought this to you? And, can you change back?

Chapter summary: Calling Nat by her nickname when you're tired

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After the terrifying incident that Wanda just witnessed, you were sitting in the pile of your own clothes.

"Wanda..." Even your voice has become much higher after shrinking.

"Oh my god..." Both of you didn't dare to move afraid of making the wrong move as if there were mines laid out. "That was a sight to behold."

Once you had gotten out of your trance, you cleared your throat and said. "C-can you turn around so I can change?" Wanda lifted her head and faced the door as you tried to roll up your sleeves and pants to prevent yourself from falling over.

Lifting your pants like a princess lifting her dress, you went to find your bag and took out the clothes that were suited for your current body. Rushing to change while occasionally checking if you still have your privacy.

"Okay... you can turn back now." You said as you zip your bag up and tossed it aside.

"So, what are we going to do?"

---

"Finally!" Tony yelled once you entered the restaurant with Wanda. "We planned to come to London with you but only a day and a half later did we manage to see you." Tony had booked a private section of the restaurant to dine in.

You rolled your eyes and sat next to Bill who came earlier than you since you told him Wanda would be bringing you here instead since she was 'taking care of you'. While waiting for the food to be served, he told you where he went and laughed at the absurd price he had to pay for the souvenirs.

Dinner was nice like what you would expect from a Michelin star restaurant but it is nothing compared to the comfort that home cook food provides.

There was another event planned when Tony Stark was involved. The night is never done until he says so. He brought us to the river where Happy informed him that there was a special event today. He was afraid that you would miss this out since you haven't been around. (just taking this from my country and putting it here)

There were plenty of people seated and waiting for the water show to start as it was a regular event that happens here once a week. There were already families with their kids seated at the front row. Since it was outdoors with no entrance fee to pay, he was unable to book the entire space.

The surrounding lights dimmed and everyone focused on the water where the jet sprayed out mist, forming a makeshift wall where the lights projected.

Suddenly, a muscular hand grabbed your waist and lifted you up, placing you on their shoulders. You looked down and it was Steve smiling at you. "I'm afraid you couldn't see it too well."

"T-Thanks." You grabbed his shoulder lightly, knowing he wouldn't do anything silly.

The show lasted around twenty minutes and the story they were conveying was really cool and touching, conveying how they built the country from the ground up.

When the show ended, the lights lit up once again and everyone started dispersing, either heading back since it's late or continuing shopping around the area.

"Thank you." You said once again when Steve let you down on the ground. He was about to reply until Tony came rushing at you, cutting him off before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

"Hey, kiddo. What would you like to do tomorrow? It's not always you have a chance that Tony Stark pays for everything."

You shot Steve an apologetic look before turning to Tony. "Umm... maybe the Wimbledon? I would love to watch it from the stands." You were not overly excited about the sport but you were excited to be able to see something up close instead from a screen. The closest you have even been in an activity was participating in your soccer tournament, but that ended in failure with your free kick.

"Sure! I'll make it happen." He ruffled your hair before moving aside and Wanda came to replace him.

"How is he able to treat you like a kid like normal?" Her voice appeared in your head and you looked at her and shrugged.

It hadn't been a long day for you but you were struggling to keep your eyes open by the end of the day. You trusted Bill as you held his hands and closed your eyes as you walked. It was not the best but it allowed you to rest your mind when you could. When you sensed that he stopped walking you would stop in your tracks as well.

Suddenly, another person picked you up and you shot open your eyes and squeezed Bill's hands tighter.

"It's just me." Nat said. She had picked you up after seeing you were walking with your eyes closed and decided to carry you since Bill was much older.

"Natty..." You said before putting your head on her shoulder and falling asleep.

Nat's heart jumped twice when she heard her nickname from you and her arms around you wrapped a tad bit tighter. She carried you all the way back to your room with Bill and tucked you in bed before saying goodnight to Bill.

---

"Alright! Let's enjoy our last full day here! Tony shouted at the lobby of the hotel and you all groaned and looked away, walking towards the exit leaving him behind. All of us were wearing sports attire since he said we would be having a full experience of Wimbledon.

Since there were a number of us, we took a van towards the stadium and there were already a handful of people even though the match was not going to start a few hours later.

We were given our passes and there was even a guided tour for us. We managed to see the waiting room, training room, canteen and the facilities they have. There were even people running around, getting things ready such as isotonic water or what the player states they want before playing their match. There are a few that's known to last hours and all the backstage people are the ones that keep them going.

It's interesting to see all the ball boys getting brief on what their job scope was and how they should act when on court.

"Let me show you something new that was added this year, I'm sure the kid will like it." The tour guide said and brought us out to an open area court where there were lots of people gathered around seemingly cheering at someone.

"This here, is a place where the kids can participate and play against our trainers here. There's one for adults over there too." He pointed towards the adjacent court.

"Do you wish to join?" Steve asked.

"Yeah sure, if you all joined too." You jumped and cheered, hoping they would accept.

"Alright, let's get us signed up then."

After putting in our names in the application paper and receiving a number each, we went to stand around the fence and watched as the other kids played. Occasionally, you would move over to the adult side because it was more exciting, instead of having to see the kids bending down and picking up the ball each time.

Each player has a set amount of time to be fair for all. Soon, it was the adult's turn since fewer people signed up, the majority of them preferring to look after their kids.

"Goooo Clint!!" You cheered as he stepped on the court. He was known for his accuracy but does it apply here as well?

The trainer started his serve and directed the ball towards him, giving him an easy first swing. Soon after that, the trainer was controlling the flow of the game and started making move left and right. It was safe to say that the trainer was having a lot of fun torturing him.

"Phew, I came here to relax, not train." He said passing over the racquet to Steve who was next.

"You managed to hit some great shots there." Nat encouraged him.

"Yeah, could have done better though."

You cheered Steve on as it was his turn. He was a lot clumsier than Clint was. His shots were flying way too high over the net making it easy for the trainer to get to the ball and swing it back at him. They had a few long rallies and it was your turn so you went back to the kids side and stepped on court.

"Have you played tennis before?" He asked.

"Yeah, a little." You said as he showed you the basics of how to hold a racquet.

"Ahh no wonder you're holding the racquet so well. In this case, don't hold anything back." He said before moving back to his corner of the court.

Once you gave him the signal that you were ready to serve, the ball went flying towards you and bounced on your court before you gave it a tough swing and aced it.

"Yes!" You pumped your fist as you cheered as you won the first point. Claps and cheers could be heard from the side. You looked around and managed to see Nat and you waved at her full of energy.

"You're not playing around huh." He tossed back the ball at you since you won the point. You only smiled as you got ready to serve the ball.

More people gathered around as time passed. Words travelled around that there was a kid that was playing exceptionally well and when at Wimbledon, there would be a lot of scouts looking for their next potential player.

You played to your best ability in this size. You just wished you had more stamina as you soon got tired within the first set. You were catching your breath during the fifteen seconds you have before having to serve.

Immediately after serving, you bounced back to the center of the court to prepare for whichever direction the ball was going to come. But little did you expect the trainer to drop shot the ball causing you to dash forward only for the ball to bounce twice before your eyes.

"40-15. Nice game kid." The trainer won in the end and you stood at the net to shake his hands.

"Thank you. I had a great time."

Nat and Bill were at the exit waiting for you, ready to guide you back to the group but the pair of lady and guy got to you before they did. Nat's instincts took over and rushed towards you and pulled you back before they could do anything.

"Sorry for my sudden intrusion, I'm Tom, with the Sports Association and I was wondering if I could speak to the kid for a few minutes?" He passed his cards to Nat and Bill while waiting for their reply.

Both of them looked at you, leaving the decision to you if you wanted to speak to them so you nodded your head and followed them to the side where there were fewer people. Nat wasn't going to trust them with you alone so she was watching you from afar. She couldn't hear what you were saying, but she made sure you were in her sight.

"I can't believe you did such a stunt." Tom said and you furrowed your eyebrows not understanding what he meant. "Meeting your girlfriend and wasting the pill for your trip back? That was dangerous."

"Lucky thing Hailey knew you would pull such a stunt and asked us to give you a spare pill." The woman said and I finally realised they were Booker and Vivian Kudo, Jimmy/Conan parents. I took the business card from her and I felt a pill stuck to the back of the card.

"Thank you."

"Don't do this again, you'll never know who is watching you." Booker advised. You nodded before waving them goodbye and returning to Nat.

"What did they want?"

"They were just wondering if I'd like to take the sport more seriously."

"And?"

"I said no. They are based in England and I'm going to be in America most of the time, plus, I'm still studying."

She nodded her head as we returned to Clint and the rest. Wanda was just coming out of the court. "You missed Wanda's action. She did really well. Better than Captain America over there." Clint said when he saw the both of you returned.

"I guess we can do more in the compound."

It was getting nearer to the time when the players started entering as we decided to head to our seats to rest after exercising. Since Tony bought the box seat, there were VIP treatments when we arrived. There were tons of sweets and pastries for us to choose from before taking our seats.

You took some eclairs and puffs before taking your soda to your seat. Thank goodness for box seats or you'll be spending a lot of time sweating in the sun. There wasn't any particular player you were rooting for, you just liked the sound of the ball in contact with the racquet.

Your head was moving side to side when the tennis ball went across the court. Soon, it was time for a break between each set and you went to refill the soda you had. Perhaps it was not a good idea to drain out your energy in the beginning.

After getting your sugar refilled, the players were back in the game. It soon got a bit boring for you so you turned to look at the audience, how they were presenting themselves and how many were still watching them.

The atmosphere there was great, it was everything you expected and even more but you were just tired already. Your eyes just couldn't stay open and you tilted your head to the back of your seat and dozed off.

Natasha noticed that you became very quiet and no longer shifted in your seat. She looked at you and saw that you were already sleeping with your head tilted back on the uncomfortable seat. She waved her hands in front of you to make sure you were truly sleeping before guiding your head onto her lap.

Only Natasha knew you were sleeping as she was stroking your back up and down. That was peaceful until a roar of cheers sounded for the final winner causing you to shoot up from Nat's lap.

"Hey, you're back. The winner has just been decided." She nodded towards the giant screen showing the replay of the final point.

"Hmmm I'm hungry Natty." You said as you sipped on the room temperature soda.

"Natty? That's a new one. I've actually heard you say it more than once."

"What? I did?" You gulped at the revelation. "I- I'm sorry. I'll stop saying it."

"Nah, it's fine. Tony should be bringing us somewhere for dinner I suppose. Let's go." She said as some spectators were leaving the stands, only those hardcore fans were staying for the award ceremony.

"So you don't mind me saying Natty?" She shook her head and you decided to tease her. "Natty Natty Natty!"

"Stop it. Or I'll never allow you to say it again." She warned. So, just for fun, you decided to repeat it one more time before rushing to get to Wanda's side. She was shocked when she felt your body collide into hers. Nevertheless, she managed to keep Nat away from attacking you.

After dinner, everyone headed back to the hotel to pack for tomorrow's flight. Once again, you were leaving before everyone else and they had taken it upon themselves to all gather at your room to celebrate until the night before all collapsing in the room.

In the morning, Bill left a note and the hotel card beside Nat's phone to make sure she can see and return the card before leaving the hotel. You didn't want to wake them up as they have been up since 2am in the morning and it's only 7am currently. They still had another 5 hours before they had to leave and it was better if they didn't feel so cranky when they woke up.

Upon reaching the airport, you immediately took the pill in the washroom and changed into adult clothes before heading to immigration. The rest of the flight went smoothly and it was your turn to wait for their return this time.

You and Bill were waiting at the arrival hall after checking if their flight had landed. Since they were seated in first class, they were the first to leave and were able to avoid the crowd. Soon, one by one, you saw the Avengers walking with their hats and sunglasses and you couldn't help but sneak a photo. They looked like some famous band if they weren't the Avengers.

Knowing they didn't want to attract attention, you waved slyly when pointing towards the direction of the car park where it was more private.

"How could you leave without telling us?" Clint rushed towards me and planted his hands around my waist tickling me.

"Clint stop!" You started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh my god, please stop! I'm sorry. I'll tell you next time!" You shook under his hold.

"Alright, I forgive you." He gently makes sure both your feet touch the floor before releasing you. You took a moment to breathe before following the rest to their cars.

---

The rest of the week went as per normal, going to school, hanging in Bill's house before going back to the compound. The only thing different was Conan coming back with a busted lip. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw him in school. This guy has a curse, wherever he goes, cases follow him.

He said he was fine and ended up solving cases for his crush's useless father.

"So, what about you?" Conan asked as all of you were gathered in Bill's house. George, Mitch and Amy were playing games in front of the television when the rest were just watching them play.

"Nothing much, just experience London for a bit before coming back. Souvenirs are on the table over there." You pointed towards the circular dining table in Bill's house.

Your phone sounded and it was a message from Nat asking you to go back since everyone wanted to have dinner one last time before Clint had to leave again. You told her okay before informing Bill that you were leaving early.

After bidding everyone goodbye, you faced Hailey with a serious expression. She looked at you for a few seconds before rushing you to speak. "Thank you for the third pill, really. Couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, without me. You wouldn't be going anywhere."

"I shouldn't have said anything." You muttered under your breath before turning away with a wave.

Taking out your headphones to have some company, you put them on your ears as you walked back to the compound. Recently, you've been listening to movie soundtracks from Disney. You trudged back to the compound, Nat told you they were just starting to prepare dinner so there was still time before dinner would start. Though, by the time you get back to the compound, everything should be done.

You didn't even see anything, perhaps you did. White cloth in front of your face and you passed out before you were able to react.

Natasha POV It has been roughly 30 minutes since Allie said she was coming back. Dinner was ready and we were just waiting on Allie and Wanda. I thought maybe she was taking her time but it has been far too long and it was making me worried. She would have told me if she needed more time or I could have gone to pick her up.

To make things worse, she wasn't picking up her phone, which was very unlike her. She always has her phone next to her.

"Has anyone seen Wanda?" Steve asked as he came into the dining room. Literally all of us were just waiting for the both of them. "FRIDAY said she left an hour ago."

"She went to get deserts, but an hour is a bit too long too." Clint said as he set the last dish on the table.

"I'm having a bad feeling." I said as I dragged Tony to his lab and asked them to track both of them down.

While he was doing that, I called Bill and he said Allie left a long time ago and hasn't heard from her since.

What happens if she's taken by Hydra? It'll be all my fault. It's too dangerous letting her walk around alone when she has been around us for so long. And now Wanda is missing too, what's happening.

"I haven't located Y/- Allie but I found sources of energy from Wanda."

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#natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #black widow 2021 #mcu #Right by Your Side #my writing

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