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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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doctor who but i've never watched it

and so it begins again. the people asked for it. the people got it. i will ensure the people regret it.

i have never watched this show, or seen an edit, but i am a thorough researcher and i feel that i've got the essence of it.

this is what i have gathered. academicians worldwide take note.

Firstly, so I don't anger anyone, I accept and acknowledge that the tardis is blue and not yellow. My misinformation was from a Drarry fanfiction, and I had hitherto regarded Drarry fanfiction as the absolute truth.

There are doctors, and there are at least fifteen of them. At least two of them are David Tennant, which I can respect.

I'm not sure why the doctors are doctors, because I can find no trace of any medical procedure except for one doctor who licks things, which he learned from the previous doctor. If this is sufficient reason, I apologise for doubting their credentials.

On the other hand, if they are doctors thanks to a postdoctoral degree, this is also fine, though I have never seen anyone study anything. There is however a doctor, and there were people upset about her, but the fandom pointed out she set the tardis on fire, which is apparently a very doctor thing to do. Setting things on fire is absolutely something any research scholar would love, so again, apologies for doubting their credentials.

At least one doctor is gay. It is probably one of the David doctors, which checks out. He says someone, I think a dentist, is hot. I envy the maybe-dentist.

A t least one doctor is trans. I was unable to find them. But they exist. Oh yes, the fandom assures me they exist.

David Tennant as well as Ncuti Gatwa were fanboys, first of the show, and second of David Tennant, and thus they got into acting. Just a fun tidbit from me, since I am now the authority on this fandom.

There are time machines with which the doctors have sex by piloting them, which is questionable because the time machines are only partially sentient. I am not sure if the time machines are the tardis. But the tardis is blue, and not yellow, of that I am certain.

There was a stage play. Or maybe that was a metaphor for the production budget of the early seasons. I am not sure, but toddler David Tennant watched it. I assume no one took a 3 year old to a stage play, so through scientific deduction, it must have been a metaphor.

At some point, Death is an agony aunt and they have to spill secrets to it, or drown in a lake of human skulls. Who is this they? It's so obvious that the fandom sees no need to explain it, and neither do I. I do know it though. Of that you may remain certain.

A David doctor has a niece and she likes being his niece.

A David doctor has a best friend named Donna. He kisses her head. She supports his fruitiness. It is wholesome. It killed him when he lost her.

Slight tangent, but younger David doctor looks like Andrew Garfield. Current David in photos does give Ben Barnes energy. Any Wolfstar shippers, I believe you've found the Wolfstar kid. It is David Tennant.

A lot of people are David Tennant. A reliable Pinterest post on Doctor Who, clearly well researched, gave me the statistic that 15% of Doctor Who is David Tennant. From the amount of David Tennant that I ran across in my research, I don't understand it but I don't doubt it, either.

Speaking of Andrew Garfield, he in involved in this somehow. I am not sure how, but you cannot escape Andrew Garfield. He is even a part of fandoms he never acted in.

There is an individual named Catherine, I think she is the actress, but she could be a character. She seems to have much less knowledge about Doctor Who lore than I do. David Tennant finds it funny. Maybe he would find me funny, too.

The doctors installed some things in the tardis, from a wheelchair ramp to a jukebox. I don't know why a jukebox was needed. If I'm honest I don't know what a jukebox is. I don't know what the tardis is. But it is blue, and not yellow.

There is a French catchphrase.

Something happens in Wales. I don't know what it is, but something always seems to be happening in Wales in these fandoms, so I don't doubt it.

There is an old Doctor Who in a wheelchair, and he is happy to see a David doctor.

They go around in space, and do things. Who is this they? You and I both know the answer, so we needn't talk about it.

The show intro is "doo wee doo".

There is an alien who is not a mouse, the alien is The Meep, and uses the definite article as pronouns. David doctor is supportive of this, which is very good.

I found baby Yoda in the show, but apparently they call it a 'goblin' there, and someone doesn't like it.

There is a lot to do with time. There is a time hole, and things happen, and people die and are resurrected. There is danger, but it is fun.

They have CGI, and it is not good, which is the best thing about it. Who is they? Please stop asking me. It is rather obvious and something I definitely know.

Someone's boyfriend dies and the boyfriend is then resurrected but then gets lost with his boyfriend but then is reincarnated as a girl who would still call herself the someone's boyfriend but then she is replaced by the boyfriend but he's different now. I apologise for any errors that have crept it, but the tardis is blue and not yellow.

Someone named Martha is a doctor, and someone is very proud of her for it.

The eleventh and twelfth doctors like bow ties.

David Tennant wants to be ginger. David Tennant always gets what he wants. Who can refuse David Tennant? David Tennant is then ginger.

A David doctor gets a happy ending.

Someone yelled at Neil Gaiman about this. It was a mistake. He said that since it had already been done, he wouldn't want to give David's character a happy ending in S3, that would be a trifle unoriginal.

A lesson to be learned, Good Omens fandom, just a bit of advice from your son, do not yell at Neil Gaiman, it does not go well. Rumour has it he murdered the people who complained about him always wearing black. Of course, there is the fact that he doesn't exist, but that doesn't seem to have stopped him.

The doctors manifest in the previous doctor's clothes, which is apparently so last season. The tardis also manifests. I don't know where, or how. But it is blue, and not yellow.

I know, there was a lot of lore, so many of you thought I wouldn't be able to gather it all. But look how much research I did! I've got it better than maybe-actress-maybe-character Catherine, I'm sure :"]

Anyway, all the major plot points are covered above, so anyone who hasn't watched Doctor Who, feel free to refer to this and impress your Whovian friends with your knowledge! [not to be judgemental, but what a dreadfully Dr Seuss name, I rather like it]

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herasversion · 23 days

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Professional athlete?

Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: A relaxing day at the beach takes an unexpected turn when you lay eyes on the worst athlete you've ever seen.

A/N: No use off y/n reader is a female but gender is not specifed. 668 words and a few words in bad french no other warnings are needed.

masterlist

Alright, you have to admit to yourself that you're not a professional athlete, but the handsome man at the front of the beach most certainly isn't one either. I mean, you're not a great football player, but he is somehow way worse.

But the most incredible aspect of it all is that he doesn't even look ugly while doing it, although I suppose it is difficult to look ugly while doing it if you have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen, with dimples and a six-pack.

And there's a certain charm to watching him fail to score a goal. After all, the rest of his friends are definitely not ugly either. I mean, you're almost tempted to post about them on TikTok or walk up to them and ask if being hot is a requirement for being friends with them.

As you relish in watching youre beach crush with brunette hair fail to score a goal, you suddenly hear a laugh next to you. You turn your head to look at your friend. "What, he's hot! Yes, and terrible at football," she laughs. "Like you haven't been looking at the guy with brown eyes who can score a goal," I say as I laugh.

As you relish in watching your beach crush with brunette hair fail to score a goal, you suddenly hear a laugh next to you. You turn your head to look at your friend. "What, he's hot! Yes, and terrible at football," she says as she laughs. "Like you haven't been looking at the guy with brown eyes who can score a goal," you say as you laugh.

Shit! There goes your cocktail all over you." As you turn your head to watch what hit your cocktail, you see the cute guy with the dimples walking over with the football in hand and a panic-stricken look.

Fuck, sorry," he says as he fluffs up his beautiful hair. "My friends aren't very good at football.

As you hear him speak, you realize that he has a beautiful accent. Until you remember what he said: "Your friends aren't very good at football." You question him.

What?" he says with a confused puppy look accompanied by a smirk, as if he knows why I am questioning him. "Well, I watched you play, and your friends don't really seem to be the problem," I say with a smile. "You've been watching me play, mon cheri?" he questions with a smirk.

As I fluster and try to come up with a response, my friend laughs. Well, she laughs until brown eyes comes up and smiles at her. Then she also flusters. He laughs and shouts, "You're coming with the ball, Charles, or are you staying with the beautiful ladies?´´Charles, what a fitting name I decide, Charles sends his friend a grimacing look, and I say, "I'm coming. Someone needs to beat you, Carlos," I laugh as I watch them stumble away.

Scratch that friend part about him and Carlos because this game seems a lot less friendly. I also see my friend looking at the scene with a panicked look in her eyes. I decide enough is enough and look at my friend, saying, "Let's go back to the bar until we witness someone break a bone." My friend gives me a doubting look until we see a lanky blond go down crying.

As we are walking to the bar, I am suddenly stopped by a shout, "Mon cheri, where are you going?" I look back and see Charles looking at me. I laugh and roll my eyes, showing my glass, and say, "I am getting a refill." He smiles back and says, "Ah, good, but come back. You need to see me win, mon cheri." "Your win, Carlos?" scoffs. He looks at my friend and says, "Don't worry, princesa, you'll watch me win.

My friend rolls her eyes, grabs my arm, and pulls me to the bar, saying, "Come on, I need a strong drink to watch this mating dance. Honestly, who are they trying to impress?" You I say with a laugh and order us a drink. She laughs and blushes, and I tease her. As we get our drinks, I say, "Come on, let's watch the sequel to the mating dance.

As we walk to our place at the beach, I notice that the football game is a lot less active. Well, it was a lot less active until they noticed us, it seems.

Just as we are sitting down, I suddenly hear a scream. I look up and notice it is Charles. Before I even notice what I am doing, I am walking to him and crouching next to him, panicked. "Are you okay?" I ask. Charles is still groaning until he notices it is me and suddenly tries to act like his left foot hurts way less by joking, "Well, everything is better now that you are here."

I scoff and stand up. Charles tries to do the same and grimaces. I notice it immediately and help him, saying, "Come, we'll sit down." Charles looks at me and says, "Anything you want, mon cheri."

We stumble over to the place where my friend and I sit. As Charles plops down on my chair, I say, "Let me have a look at your foot." Charles looks panicked and says, "No, that is not necessary, mon cheri." I laugh and say, "Don't worry, I don't have a foot fetish."

He shakes his head and says, "Non, non, Joris is already on his way." "Jorris?" I question. "Yes, my trainer," he says. "You have a personal trainer?" I ask. "Well, of course, mon cheri, I am an athlete after all.

You're an athlete?" I scoffed. He looked playfully offended. "Yes, I am, mon cheri. Do you have a problem with that?" I laughed and replied, "No, I don't have a problem with that. I just doubt that

Why do you doubt that?" he asks. I laugh. "Well, I saw your football skills, and they're not professional athlete-worthy," I say. He laughs so hard that he almost falls off the chair and hurts his foot again, grimacing. "What did I say?" I ask innocently.

Well, I am most certainly not a football player," he says, laughing. "I know," I say, "but what are you then?" He grins and replies, "Well, I am a Formula 1 racer, obviously, mon cheri." I scoff and retort, "Sure, and I am the president."

He smiles, his beautiful dimples accentuating his charm, and says, "But I am, mon cheri. Why don't I prove it to you?" I look at him doubtfully and say, "Sure, prove it to me," leaning in closer. Suddenly, I notice beside his beautiful eyes, he also has beautiful lips.

As he bites his lip and gazes into my eyes, we are suddenly interrupted by a shout, "Charles, are you alright?" It's a man whom I presume is Joris.

As Joris keeps fretting over him and scolding him, I chuckle at the situation. Before I even realize it, several minutes have gone by, and Joris is speaking about bringing Charles home.

I realize that it might be the last moment I'll see that beautiful man. However, just as I'm thinking that, he turns around as if he suddenly remembers me. He hands me a piece of paper and gives me a kiss on the cheek before Joris helps him stumble away.

I sit down where Charles just sat and laugh as I notice it's a fake paddock pass to the Grand Prix this weekend. I turn to my friend and say, "Charles thinks he's a Formula 1 driver." She looks at me bewildered and laughs. "Come on, please tell me you know who that is." I laugh and say no. She looks at me like I'm crazy and says, "Only you could not realize you've been flirting with Charles Leclerc, Ferrari's number one driver."

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #george russell

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rene-spade · 2 months

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Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

#dark! f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 oc #f1 reverse harem #daniel riccardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #kimi räikkönen x daughter reader #dad! jenson button #dad! fernando alonso #dad! kimi räikkönen #jos verstappen

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here-lies-they-ran-outta-luck · 4 months

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Hi, I saw a note that you are accepting requests and if you aren’t totally ignore this

But could you write something with Theo nott, where she speaks a different language and her English isn’t perfect so she makes a mistake instead of saying she’s going to meet someone she says she’s going on a date and he gets all upset and jealous, maybe angst to fluff or something <3 I think it would be cute

- Thanks 🪐🪐

It's A Date (Theodore Nott x F!Reader)

warning- she/her pronouns, google translated french, i changed it a little from the request but it's basically the same.

a/n- I am in a very Theo Nott mood if you can't tell.

word count- 721

“I don’t know, I just really like her,” Theo says, his cheeks slightly rosy due to Pansy’s prying.

“Oh come on! There’s got to be something specific you like about her,” Pansy says, giggling at the tall boy’s embarrassed state, “Just give me three things you like!”

“I like her french accent, I guess,” He answers after a small pause, “She’s also pretty and so sweet. I’ve got no Idea how she was ever sorted into Slytherin.”

“I think you should ask her out. She would definitely say yes, you’re an absolute catch!” Pansy says, getting more excited about Theodores crush.

“I’ll think about it. Let’s get going for breakfast,” He answers, grabbing his satchel and walking out of the common room.

Not soon after the two get settled down at the Slytherin table, the lovely smell of your vanilla perfume fills Theo’s nose. “Bonjour Theo!”

“Good morning,” He replies, giving you a small smile and scooting over to give you some room.

“How has your morning been?” You ask, he blushes slightly at your strong accent. His Italian accent was never that strong, he only ever spoke Italian around his mom and her family. You however spoke it all the time, you and Draco had a plethora of conversations in French.

“Better now that you’re here,” after a small pause he gains a slight amount of confidence, “I was wondering if maybe-”

“Hi, (Y/n),” a boy from Ravenclaw says, cutting off Theodore before continuing, “Would you want to accompany me to our next Hogsmead weekend?”

“Yes,” You say with a smile, “It’s a date!” You didn’t really mean that it was a date at all, it was simply just an expression you’d heard. However it broke all of Theos confidence he previously had.

“De toute façon, what were you saying Theo?” You ask, turning back to the pretty boy with hopeful eyes. Unknown to anyone, you also fancied Theo.

“I was um- just wondering if you got the paper on alhistoy?” Theo says, ending his sentence with a large gulp of orange juice.

Your smile deflates a little bit, “Oh, yeah I did.” You pull out your paper and hand it to him. Theo had already gotten the paper finished, so he just silently stared at the prettily written page for a few seconds before handing it back.

Theodore didn’t talk to you very much for the next few days, he spent a majority of his time alone talking to Pansy about his heartbreak.

Theo didn’t plan on talking to you until after your trip with the boy, and even then he wanted to wait a while.

“Hé! How have you been Theo? I’ve missed you!” You say, finally getting to see him.

“How was your date?” He asks, angry, not looking at you.

“I didn’t go on a date?” You reply, puzzled.

“Did you end up not going then?” He asks again, looking up at you.

“I went to hang out with a friend, but I didn’t see it as a date,” You answer, taken aback.

“You didn’t?” He asks, standing up and walking towards you.

“Non, we’re just friends,” You answer with a smile, now looking up at the boy.

“But you said it was a date,” He says, with a flat face.

“Isn’t that just an expression you English people use?” You reply, laughing slightly at the boy.

“Okay,” He replies, slowly.

“Are you okay Teddy?” You ask, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah,” He says, absentmindedly, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“What?” You reply, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Teddy, are you sure?” You ask, sucking in a breath, waiting for his response.

“I was a little heartbroken when you said it was a date,” He breathes, pulling you into a hug, “Now I would like to do what I was too scared to do. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks after pulling away from the hug slightly.

“I would more than love to go on a date with you, Teddy,” You say, giving him a smile and pulling him back into a hug, smiling even wider when you feel him smile into your neck.

“It’s a date then? For real this time?” He says, muffled by your neck.

“Obviously,” You say, laughing at his lame joke.

#theodore nott x reader #harry potter #lorenzo berkshire x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n

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sinofwriting · 7 months

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Girls Are Private Creatures - Pierre Gasly & Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,399 Summary: Pierre and her have always been best friends, having a baby together didn't change or complicate that until he says something he doesn't mean to. Note(s): Was very fun to write and somehow Charles managed to sneak in his way into this as a love interest, still not too sure how that happened, lol. This is a one off, no part two, sorry everyone! Also, I don’t speak french and while I didn’t use google translate for the french, I still used a translator.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

“Ah, there are my favorite girls!” Charles exclaims, jogging over to them, exchanging kisses on the cheek with her before taking the baby out of her arms. Elodie gives him a gummy smile and he coos at her, nosing at her hair, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, a giggle leaving her because of the smacking sound it makes. “So, beautiful, Miss Elodie. I shall have to keep you and your maman close.”

She shakes her head at the poor wink Charles gives her, but gives a nod, stepping beside him as he begins to walk around the grid.

“Is that Elodie?” Max asks, as they start to pass the Red Bull garage. “Can I?” He asks, looking at her, with his arms already reached out to take her from Charles. Charles pouts at her, but she ignores him, looking at her content baby. “Elodie.” Her little head turns to look her way. “You want to go to Uncle Max?” Elodie gives a little squeal at the name, hands shaking and she smiles, nodding. Max eagerly takes the baby from Charles' arms. “I can’t believe you are letting Max Verstappen hold her.” He pouts. “You are just mad, your Elodie time got cut short.” She playfully scolds, bumping their hips together. He pokes his bottom lips further out for a second, before throwing an arm over her shoulder, tugging her close for a side hug as they watch Max talk to Elodie, bringing her into the Red Bull garage and pointing out different things to her.

“How are you feeling?” She sighs, drawing away from Charles. “I’m fine, Cha. You don’t need to worry about me.” He frowns at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are my friend. I will of course worry.” He then tilts his head to nod at her face. “You have circles, chéri.” “I have a six month old. Sleep is not a blessing I get.” Her french accent is thicker and his eyebrows raise, her upset clear just from that. “You only get circles when you are worried and not sleeping. What is happening?” She swallows, eyes locked on Elodie who now is babbling to Max in her babytalk, the driver has such a serious look on his face, as though he understands every word of it and is taking notes. The words are bubbling up in her but she sees Christian joining Max and Elodie and upon spotting her, he smiles waving her over. “It is nothing, Cha.” She shakes her head, giving him a smile, before reaching forward to squeeze his arm. “Let me know if you’d like to stay the night with us. Elodie always loves seeing her godfather.” “Of course.” He murmurs, watching as she leaves to join the trio in the Red Bull garage and before he can think better of it, he’s moving to Alpine’s garage.

He’s easily able to get to Pierre’s drivers room and he doesn’t bother knocking, just throws the door open, uncaring of the near naked state of his best friend and his protests as he shuts the door behind him, hands settling on his hips.

“What is wrong?” “Charles!” Pierre is looking at him with wide eyes, a hand over his crotch despite the fact that he has underwear on and it’s nothing that Charles hasn’t seen before. “Get out!” “Non. What is going on? Y/N and Elodie are here, you are nowhere to be seen. She isn’t sleeping and is worried about something but won’t say what.” Charles pokes at his chest, harshly, ignoring the yelp it earns him. “What did you do?” “Why is it me who did something?” He protests, the hand that has been hovering over his crotch, moving to rub at the spot Charles had poked. The younger looks at him unimpressed. Pierre sighs, sitting on his massage table. “I, uh, I fucked up.” “That is obvious.” “Thank you, calmar.” Charles shrugs. “I said it was a mistake.” His brows furrow. “What was a mistake?” Pierre winces and he braces himself on the table. “All of it. Us kissing and then starting our, uh, benefits. And uh Elodie.”

His head wipes to the side before he knows it and he can feel the sting on his cheek and something a bit wet on his lip. His tongue darts out and he can taste a bit of blood.

“Tête de noeud.” Dickhead. Charles spits out, glaring at one of his oldest friends. “Comment pourriez-vous dire une telle chose, penser une telle chose.” How could you say such a thing, think such a thing. “Je sais.” I know. “No, vous ne faites pas de lien. Elle est votre fille.” Charles hisses. No, you don’t. She is your daughter. “Et elle est votre plus grande partisane, la seule personne qu'elle aime le plus est Elodie et pour vous,” He stops himself, shaking his head. Anger and sick tangling together and sitting heavy in his stomach. And she is your biggest supporter, the only person she loves more is Elodie and for you too, “Je ne peux même pas te regarder. Tu me dégoûtes, Pierre. Je ne veux pas vous voir près d'eux ou moi. Et j'espère que personne ne s'en posera la question. I’m not feeling kind.” I can’t even look at you. You disgust me, Pierre. I don’t want to see you near them or me. And hope that no one asks about this.

Before Pierre can say anything else, he leaves throwing the door opening and ignoring the looks from fucking Esteban of all people as he leaves the stupid French garage.

Hours later as she burps Elodie, humming softly as she walks around the hotel room, she hears a knock.

“Charles.” She greets, opening it. “Chéri.” He greets back, pressing a kiss to her cheek before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “She ate already.” He notes with disappointment, spotting the cloth over her shoulder. She throws him a sorry look as Elodie lets out a burp, making them both tell her good job and she pats for a few more seconds before rubbing at her back. “She’s been hungrier recently. You missed out by ten minutes.” “Is she still eating at night?” He asks, taking Elodie from her and cooing at the baby, rubbing their noses together just to see her little eyes go cross eyed before pressing a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of baby with a bit of vanilla from that perfume he had bought Y/N for Christmas last year. She watches him with an amused smile. He always did the same thing with Elodie. “She wasn’t, but for the past few days, yes.” “Perfect.” He beams. “I will take the midnight feed.” “Cha,” she warns. “You have free practice tomorrow. You don’t need to exhaust yourself.” “It is free practice. Besides, I've driven the tractor hungover once already this season. I can handle a little free practice with some exhaustion.” He rolls his eyes at the idea of being exhausted from Elodie. She was many things but never exhausting and he tells her that.

“Exhausting, miss Elodie. Why I’ve never heard such a lie!” The baby giggles at his exaggerated tone and expressions, little hand going up to rest on his cheek and he pretends to eat it making her squeal. “Exactly! Your maman is crazy for saying so.” She stares at the two, feeling a pang in her heart as she’s reminded of all the times Pierre did something similar.

He always wanted the late night feeds, really any feeds he could get. He took all the diaper changes too, uncaring of the blowouts or when she started to move more how difficult it could be to get a new diaper on.

Tears prick in her eyes as she thinks of him, a weird concoction of sadness and anger dwelling in her. She knew he had been lying when he said that Elodie was a mistake. Pierre loved being a father. It hadn’t been something he wanted so young or expected but he loved Elodie, truly loved her. She was less sure about them kissing for that first time and then continuously falling into bed together. He could think of that as a mistake. But it was a mistake that led to Elodie. So could it really be one when it gave them such a perfect baby?

“Pierre told me what he said.” Charles murmurs after he sets Elodie on her playmat, which she grunts at before getting distracted by the toys hanging in front of her. She shudders, arms going over her chest. “He is a dick.” “Not in front of Elodie, Charles.” She warns. She didn’t care that Elodie couldn’t truly understand what they were saying or even hear them. She wouldn’t have Pierre insulted in front of her. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, eyes flickering over to her before returning to Elodie whose babbling. “He shouldn’t have said those things.” “He shouldn’t have said that she was a mistake.” She corrects. “Pierre can say what he pleases about me, not her. Never her.” She murmurs. “Nor you. If you won’t stand for him saying such things for Elodie, which I will as well, I won’t stand for him saying such things about you.” “He didn’t mean it, Cha.” She shakes her head. “He loves her, adores her. Do not burn bridges you’ll regret.” “For you, I could never.” Her eyes snap away from Elodie and meet his eyes. “Charles.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. I’m just telling you. You are worth more than he has given and ever thought of giving you. And if,” he pauses, lifting her hand, her left hand, to his lips. “You ever want to give us a chance, I will be here. And even if you don’t, I will still always be here for Elodie and you.” She watches with wide eyes as he presses another kiss to her hand before dropping it and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Lay down, relax, chéri. I will take care of Elodie.”

She does lay down, but she is unable to relax. Because hadn’t Pierre teased for the last year and a half that Charles had a thing for her? Something she ignored, thinking he was pulling her leg, being a little shit like normal. But to know it was true, to learn the truth of it. It sat heavy in her heart and god it aches at the thought of Charles and his feelings.

Charles wasn’t perfect, no one was, except for Elodie, but that was a bias that the majority of them had when it came to her little girl, but he was amazing even with his faults. His people pleasing ways, pushing his feelings away, not putting himself first, the anger he sometimes carried with him, the grief that still sat heavy on his shoulders. But there were his pluses as well, his dedication and focus to racing, his love for his friends and family, his ability to not have to be on all the time, to be able to sit at home or somewhere and chill, and his patience. He was unbelievably patient but also knew when to push, to not give up or in.

Something warm starts to bubble in her as she considers, admittedly not for the first time, a relationship with Charles. The way he’d come home to her and Elodie after days away. The sweaty hugs after getting out of the car. The dinners and vacations with his family. The gentle way he’d touch and hold her. Not like she was fragile, but something important. And Elodie, the way he’d be with Elodie, more so than he already was. She can see the days and nights when they have Elodie, not Pierre, how they’d put her to sleep together, play with her, read to her. Watch as she crawls and then toddles around. Can see him bringing her around Monaco to the spots he grew up with as a child and sharing them with Elodie.

The thoughts and near dreams are overwhelming but in the best way possible. However there is Pierre to consider. He wouldn’t disappear from their lives, he could never, not just because of Elodie, but because he was a best friend to both of them. He would always exist with them and she knew that Charles could handle her past with Pierre, he had already dealt with the knowledge, had a constant reminder of said past in front of him in the form of Elodie. But would Pierre be able to handle her and Elodie having a future with Charles?

They weren’t in love with each other. They certainly loved each other, but there was a reason that they only had sex and never went on dates and always made faces at the jokes and ideas of being together. Sex was a different beast than a relationship. And they both never wanted a romantic relationship with each other. They both had gone on dates with other people during their time as friends with benefits. She had only stopped after learning she was pregnant and once she was further along, Pierre had too in solidarity. It hadn’t lasted too long as soon as Elodie was two months he went back on the scene, but it had been something.

Her lips twitch into a smile as she's reminded of how excited Pierre had been when he came back from his most recent date. Rambling equally to both her and Elodie about how pretty and smart his date was and how she even liked kids, babies at that.

She’s jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone chiming. Grabbing it, she sighs seeing Pierres name but opens the message.

Could I say goodnight to Elodie. Just goodnight. I won’t stay longer She sighs again, quickly typing out of course and sending it.

“Pierre is coming to say goodnight to Elodie.” She tells Charles, sitting up. He frowns, scooping Elodie up and sitting on the bed beside her before setting Elodie down to the left of her. “Will you be okay?” “I’ll be fine.” And she reaches out to him, taking his hand in hers and intertwines their fingers, earning wide eyes from him. “Besides, I think I need to talk to him.” “You mean?” “I mean, let me talk to Pierre. Make sure he’ll be okay with this. He means too much to both of us to not check.” “I will hit him again if he’s not.” The promise makes her jaw drop, “You’ll what? What do you mean again?” “Ah.” He swallows nervously, and he’s suddenly able to feel the ring that caught Pierre’s lip earlier more than ever. “Nothing?” He offers, with a smile.

@cixrosie @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @benstormy @boiohboii @iloveyou3000morgan @topguncultleader

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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marlenesluv · 8 months

Text

Home. (OP)

request -> “hi! if it's not a bother, could you do a oscar piastri x adhd reader (very hyper and bubbly), from Brazil (Paraná) but she speaks a bunch of languages, and is studying mechanical engineering, also she's 18, thank you ❤️”

note: lovey love love this sm. oscar is so sweet, not enough oscar love out there fr. i might start writing for him more?.. happy to write some brazilian reader too, i love this. i made this to skip the launch, just some cute stuff of them dating! anyways, i hope you enjoy :)❤️

warnings: none!!

fc: rafaella consentino

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: y/n.user, landonorris, and 289,024 others

oscarpiastri: back to her roots 📍Paraná, Brazil 🇧🇷

view comments…

oscar.y/nfanpage: oscar 🤝 turning into a y/n fanpage

y/n.user: happy to be back and show you around😊🫶

|> oscarpiastri: we walked 15 miles in one day, how much more to see is there??

|> y/n.user: so so SO much more

|> oscarpiastri: i’ll only walk my feet off for you🫶

f1.edits: they are so sweet, they give me a toothache 🥹

y/n.wagpage: my favorite wag 💁‍♀️🙏

pastry.fanpage: brazil is so beautiful, enjoy your break with your gf oscar!

landonorris: no invite?

|> oscarpiastri: next time

|> y/n.user: OO YAYAYA i’m such a good tour guide

|> landonorris: oh no, im gonna have to walk 100 miles, aren’t i?

|> oscarpiastri: 😁😁

f1.updates: i love me some summer break content. and when it’s oscar & y/n? NEED

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liked by: oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, and 173,135 others

y/n.user: finally got a break from building stuff and finals🫠 agora posso mostrar ao Oscar minha casa

translation (i used google so this might not even be correct but pls bear with me): now i get to show oscar my home

view comments…

oscarpiastri: i love you💚💛💙

|> y/n.user: aww, i love you too💚💛💙

|> user7: i’m- stop. this is so cute

y/n.fans: multilingual queen👸

francisca.cgomes: you guys are the cutest

|> y/n.user: kikaaaa <3

f1.wags: just wondering, does anyone know what other languages y/n speaks??

|> y/n.fanpage: portuguese is her main language, then english. and she also knows japanese, french, italian, spanish, some german, and i think she said she’s learning dutch!

|> f1.wags: howwww….

|> y/n.user: haha, you got them all! my parents thought i needed to know as many languages as possible, so i try to always expand :)

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liked by: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 182,294 others

y/n.user: is he as good on a moped as he is in an f1 car…?

view comments…

lilymhe: i just cant believe you EXIST. you’re stunning

|> y/n.user: LILYYYYY 🥹😭 i cant believe YOU exist

f1andf2.wags: i love the way that all the wags are friends wtf🥹

|> wag.postsoff1: me tooooo

oscarpiastri: yes, yes i am

|> y/n.user: my kens job is vroom

|> francisca.cgomes: mine too!

|> carmenmmundt: wow! mine too, guys😇

user77: you beautyyyyy💛

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your instagram story:

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liked by: oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and 199,246 others

y/n.user: back to the paddock fits😁 so excited to annoy the mclaren engineers while i do my coursework 😇

view comments…

oscarpiastri: they love you, it’s okay

|> y/n.user: i love gossiping with them☺️

f1.wagpage: cutest couple ever, STOP IT NOW

formula1updates: so excited for the paddock posts!!

oscary/n.ship: pls teach oscar some portuguese🙏

|> y/n.user: trust me, i’ve been trying. he’s getting somewhere

pierregasly: can’t wait for you to steal my gf again

|> y/n.user: is it stealing if she comes over willingly?🤨

editsforwags: the first look so good🤝

mclaren: excited to have you both back🧡

*liked by creator*

user04: 日本に来てください！(come to japan!)

|> y/n.user: すぐ！(soon!)

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(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #smau #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smau

562 notes · View notes

bosbas · 1 month

Text

Chapter 10: even my daddy just loves him

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, period- and class-typical views about the economy, idiots in love being idiots in love, heavy on the idiots, heavy on the in love

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: the first TTPD chapter title :,) also no interaction between reader and colin in this one IM SORRY it'll come soon i promise

June 23, 1816 – In the wake of yesterday's lackluster ball, one can't help but lament the dreary fashion choices on display, particularly the Featheringtons' blinding ensembles in shades of yellow. Sadly, the absence of Lady Y/N Montclair was acutely felt, as her impeccable gowns and Parisian flair were sorely missed. However, tonight at the Ashbury ball proves a wonderful opportunity for her to dazzle us with her sense of style.

“Well, don't you look gorgeous tonight,” gushed Eloise upon seeing you, kissing your cheeks in greeting.

Your heart soared, delighted that your best friend had taken to your French customs so easily.

“I didn’t particularly have a choice after Whistledown’s column today,” you joked, smoothing out your skirts.

Of course, it was flattering to have the ton’s most trusted source speak about you in such a positive manner, but at times it did build a fair amount of undue pressure. Though you supposed you preferred feeling pressure to dress well over pressure to marry someone as you had with Lord Barlow.

“Either way, you look stunning. I’ve caught more than a few gentlemen staring at you already. You’d think they would have been able to pick up their jaws off the floor by now,” Eloise teased, linking arms with you, and leading you toward the far end of the ballroom.

You politely covered your laugh with your hand, shaking your head as you assessed who was present at the ball today. More accurately, you were assessing whether Colin Bridgerton was present.

It had been two weeks since you’d even seen him, and you were exerting more mental energy than you cared to admit pretending that you were unbothered. You supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were the one who had asked him not to speak with you anymore, and he’d listened to you better than you could have hoped.

Secretly, you’d been hoping he would still have shown up and tried to talk to you. It was an absurd desire, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. Apart from balls like these where all you did was speak with Eloise, you had to admit that arguing with Colin was the most fun you’d had in England, and perhaps everywhere else, too.

You hated him, you reminded yourself. And he hated you, too. Worse, actually. He had no respect for you. Or any woman in general. Which only brought you back to the shameful burning at the top of your ears every time you searched for him in a crowd.

But you were only human. And there were times when you couldn’t help but give in to your self-sabotaging. “Is the rest of your family in attendance tonight?” you asked Eloise, trying to seem casual and uninterested.

“Anthony and Kate are,” she responded brightly. “Benedict was able to weasel his way out of this one, I’m afraid. But it’s all for the better. He was being quite irritating at dinner last night.”

You turned to her, eyebrows raised. “I assumed you’d stay home if Benedict stayed home, too. I thought you hated these things.”

“Oh, not at all! Now that you aren’t being swarmed by suitors at every moment and I have you somewhat to myself, the balls are far more enjoyable.”

Shaking your head at her fondly, you laughed in disbelief. She was truly the only reason you hadn’t gone completely mad these past two weeks.

Lady Whistledown, whoever she was, had proven to be quite perceptive. As she had reported, you effectively had laid your parents’ dreams of marrying you off to an Englishman to rest. You’d only told Pen and Eloise about your disillusionment, but you supposed it was rather obvious to everyone else given that you barely danced with anyone anymore.

You looked through the crowd once again searching for the face you knew would not be there, and you felt your gut twist, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was in relief or disappointment.

“And what about Colin?” you asked, internally cringing at not being able to help yourself. “Has he left the country again?”

Eloise looked at you carefully, noting your barely hidden grimace and shifting eyes. She would’ve laughed at how obviously painful the question was for you if she didn’t completely understand what was happening. Eloise still had no idea why you hated Colin in the first place, but she could tell that it was tearing you up inside anyway.

“No, he’s still at home, believe it or not. He just doesn’t particularly enjoy these kinds of events anymore, I suppose. It must be the ambitious mamas wanting to auction him off to their daughters,” Eloise finally responded, trying to keep her tone light.

Although that wasn’t the whole truth, Eloise couldn’t just come out and tell you that her brother was completely in love with you and that you had broken his heart enough that he had no desire to come to ton events anymore. It would have been unusually cruel for her to do so.

Besides, she could tell you had been feeling the same way. The only difference was that your parents were not as forgiving as Violet Bridgerton, and you had to come to most balls whether you wanted to or not.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I guess,” you said, not particularly knowing how to respond. In a pathetic attempt to make it seem like you truly were unbothered, you added, “It’s rather nice when he isn’t here, though, isn’t it?”

Eloise stared at you suspiciously. Though she always thought it easier to stay away from your conflict with Colin, the curiosity was killing her. And she could only go so long before she went insane trying to figure it out.

“Why do the two of you hate each other so much, anyway?” she asked, hoping her disinterested tone would make you more likely to open up.

No one seemed to know why you hated Colin. You weren’t particularly forthcoming with the information, but Eloise could sense that it wasn’t something trivial. Having grown to know you fairly well over your time in England, Eloise was still perplexed by this specific detail.

Next to Eloise, you were tactfully avoiding eye contact and staring intently at the floor in front of you. You couldn’t tell her. You simply couldn’t. It wasn’t that you were worried about your reputation. You knew Eloise well enough to know that she wouldn’t spread rumors that would sully your image.

But if you told her the truth, she’d be heartbroken. If someone were to tell you that they hated one of your brothers for the same reason you hated Colin, you would crumble. You were incredibly close with them, and knowing that they thought of women that way would crush you. And you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same to Eloise.

Luckily, some man you’d never spoken to before asked you for a dance right at that moment. He had barely finished speaking before you placed your hand on his elbow and rushed him to the ballroom. Dancing with someone was far easier than having to figure out what you were going to say to Eloise.

Eloise stared silently as you were whisked away to dance. She let out a small laugh in disbelief, amazed that her question had been what finally propelled you to start dancing at balls again.

But her work tonight was not done. Shaking her head, Eloise looked around the ballroom, looking for your brother. Unsurprisingly, he was by the refreshments.

“Hello, Louis,” greeted the Bridgerton. “I believe you might have some information that would be of interest to me.”

“I do?” asked Louis, confused.

Eloise nodded over to where you were dancing and smiling politely and turned back to your brother with an expectant look.

“Oh,” said Louis, catching onto what your friend was saying. “I don’t, unfortunately.”

“Are you serious?” she responded, exasperated. “She would rather dance with that…man than tell me why she hates Colin!”

Louis shot her a sympathetic look. “She won’t tell me either. But she’s never been this upset over someone, so I wager it must have been something serious.”

“Colin doesn’t even know! And he only hates her because she hated him first! It’s terribly unreasonable.”

Having overheard the conversation about you and Colin from a few paces away, Carlos quickly joined Eloise and Louis with a knowing smile. He considered himself to be somewhat of an expert when it came to matters of the heart, having found a true love match after falling completely head over heels for your sister.

“Yes, but Colin is completely in love with Y/N,” he said. “So, I suppose he doesn’t hate her that much.”

“We know,” responded Eloise dejectedly. “That’s why I need to know why she hates him.”

“Excuse me, we? We know?” scoffed Louis. “I most certainly did not know this. What do you mean Colin loves Y/N? I should think that I would know if someone was in love with my little sister.”

Eloise looked at him, unimpressed. “I fear you only have yourself to blame, then. Colin came to every single event on the social calendar until your sister told him to stop talking to her, and he hasn’t come to another one since. Why exactly did you think that was?”

“I don’t know! I suppose I thought… I don’t know what I thought! But it doesn’t matter. He does not love her, Eloise. I know because Y/N is the exact same with Colin as he is with her.”

This time Carlos looked at Louis in disbelief. “Yes, Louis. Precisely,” he spoke slowly, nodding to make sure your brother understood.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, eyes widening as he came to grips with the realization. “What do you mean? Does this mean that…”

“Yes,” confirmed Carlos. “Y/N loves him too.”

“What? How did I miss this?”

---

Colin was standing in Anthony’s study, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at his eldest brother.

“I won’t go,” he said defiantly.

“You will, and you will be the perfect gentleman while you’re there.”

“Why do I even need to be there? It’s not like I know what I’m doing when I hunt, anyway,” Colin huffed, uncrossing his arms and fiddling with a quill on Anthony’s desk.

Watching his brother, Anthony sighed, exasperated. “Because it would be impossibly rude not to go. And the Bridgertons, especially Colin Bridgerton, if I recall correctly, are never impossibly rude.”

Colin groaned. “It’s one hunt without me! Please-”

“Y/N won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. She and Eloise went to the modiste and won’t be back until later.”

“But what if-”

“She won’t be there,” assured Anthony firmly. He had an inkling about why the Montclairs had suddenly invited the Bridgerton brothers on a hunting outing, and he was not about to let Colin ruin what were most likely some very well-laid-out plans.

Colin blinked and licked his lips, still considering whether being rude to your family was worth the risk of running into you. Resigned, he sighed and turned away from his brother.

“Very well. But this is the only time I’m doing it. I’m not particularly eager to have a run-in with the woman who wishes I didn’t even exist.”

Not seeing you for two weeks had proven to be an extraordinarily difficult challenge. But it was better than having to look at your face and know that he would never be in your good graces. You wanted nothing to do with him, and it was more than he could take.

Even though Colin had relatively successfully convinced himself that the only reason he was upset at your rejection was because he wanted to maintain his status as the best-liked member of the ton, he’d still barely been able to get out of bed since he’d last seen you. His heart ached too much when he thought of seeing you at any events. Yet it also ached when he thought of not seeing you. So he was confined to his chambers night after night, pacing as he thought of you laughing with someone else while he sat in agony at home.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. She can’t hate you that much,” said Anthony, rolling his eyes as he patted his brother on the back, leading him out of his study.

“You’d be surprised,” muttered Colin lowly.

---

“Frères, il nous faut causer,” announced Louis upon entering the mudroom (Brothers, we need to talk).

Seeing Edward preparing for the afternoon’s upcoming hunt alongside Philippe and Jacques, Louis cleared his throat and tried again.

“Brothers, we must have a chat. And Edward too, I suppose.”

Philippe and Jacques looked up at their younger brother in surprise.

“A chat about what, pray tell,” asked Jacques, fiddling with his hunting boots as he placed them on his feet.

“It has come to my attention that our dearest sister Y/N might be in love with Colin Bridgerton. I thought it best to discuss the matter between us before we go out and hunt with him.”

Philippe shot his youngest brother an amused look. “Well, yes, Louis. That’s why we’re having this hunting trip.”

Louis’ face contorted into an expression that was a funny mixture of disbelief and annoyance. He most certainly did not like to be the only one out of his siblings who didn’t know something. “How does everyone know this except for me? Am I truly that clueless?”

Laughing, Jacques clapped his younger brother on the back. “I suppose it’s a certain sensibility that comes once you’re married, Louis. Don’t feel too badly about it.”

“A sensibility that comes from your wife telling you that the man is obviously in love with Y/N, is what you mean, Jacques,” Philippe quipped, looking even more amused.

“I would’ve been able to tell!” argued Jacques. “If Chiara hadn’t told me within five minutes, I could’ve figured it out. Probably. In a few days. Who cares! We still have an advantage over Louis because we’re married, and our wives are more attuned to those things than we are.”

“Carlos was the one who told me, actually,” commented Edward. “Charlotte would have been the one to do it, but she thought it was so obvious that it wasn’t worth mentioning. I doubt I would have been able to tell on my own, anyway.”

Louis laughed, not feeling so bad about how oblivious he was anymore. “I suppose you’re right. But I still want to be included in the scheming! How is our little hunting trip going to help Colin and Y/N come to their senses?”

Philippe sighed deeply, and Louis got the impression that he had aged about ten years in the making of this plan. “Y/N has been spectacularly miserable these past couple of weeks. That is certainly no secret. And as much as it is not in my nature to meddle in her affairs, I don’t take any joy in seeing her like this.”

Jacques nodded in agreement. “Especially after what Nigel Berbrooke said to her, we think it would be nice for her to get a love match. Something that has been made much easier by the fact that she is already in love, even if she doesn’t know it.”

Although it had been two weeks since you’d told the rest of your siblings what Mr. Berbooke had said, Louis still felt a surge of anger rise in him when he remembered his words. “He’s worse than Barlow, that one.”

“I was at Eton with Berbrooke, and I assure you it was torture,” agreed Edward, crinkling his nose as he recalled his younger years alongside Nigel.

Sending his brother-in-law a sympathetic look, Louis continued, “That still doesn’t solve the main problem. Even if Y/N does love Colin, she still absolutely hates him. Despises him, actually.”

“Actually, the main problem is that Father wants his daughters to marry a title and a fortune. No offense, Edward.”

But Edward, ever agreeable, waved Philippe’s apology away. “Not at all. It was an advantageous match for me, too. I’m just lucky we grew to love each other. But I do recall your father being quite insistent that she marry nobility.”

“Precisely,” agreed Jacques. “I’ll wager that Y/N will realize she loves Colin quicker than Father will come around to the idea of her marrying for love.”

Louis hummed thoughtfully. “But what if it goes wrong? What if Father hates Colin, and this hunting trip only makes it more difficult for him and Y/N?”

“Not a chance.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That won’t happen.”

Louis just stared at the three men in front of him, looking entirely unconvinced. “How can all three of you be so sure?”

“Because it’s Colin Bridgerton!” said Edward. “Everybody likes Colin. He’s the ton favorite.”

“Y/N doesn’t like him,” argued Louis, still unsure about how effective the plan would be.

“But she loves him, so that’s different,” said Philippe, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry, Louis. Father will surely like him and it’ll be a step in the right direction. Now, are you ready? I believe the Bridgertons should be arriving shortly.”

---

All in all, Colin was having a lovely time this afternoon. As Anthony had assured, you were at the modiste when he arrived at your home, and he was barely there long enough to spend time looking for any trace of you. It was just as well because he feared what would have happened if he did find anything that reminded you of him.

Hunting, and specifically shooting, was not Colin’s greatest strength. As a result, he’d been mostly hanging toward the back of the group, chatting pleasantly with Edward, who didn’t seem to be very enthusiastic about hunting either.

That is until your father started talking about his travels. Truly, Colin’s biggest weakness was the opportunity to talk about his time abroad. That and you, he thought longingly.

Colin jogged to catch up to your father, Anthony, and Jacques so he could join the conversation.

“You and Chiara are settled in Tuscany, then?” asked your father.

Jacques laughed. “More than settled, I think. Hello, Colin! Lovely afternoon out, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” Colin agreed. “You would think it would make me a better shot, but I think this just proves I’m completely hopeless.”

Lord Montclair laughed, and Jacques felt an internal sense of pride as he saw their plan progressing.

“My sons tell me you’ve traveled a lot,” said your father, turning his gaze to the younger Bridgerton. “Have your travels taken you to the Persian Gulf, perchance? I am contemplating investing in pearl diving there.”

“Indeed, I have,” confirmed Colin. “However, if you seek pearls, might I suggest Ceylon instead? I visited last year and witnessed firsthand the expanding pearl industry.”

“Really?” said Lord Montclair, immediately immersed in the conversation. “But wouldn’t the Persian Gulf offer the most promising returns?”

“It certainly would right now, but trust me, Ceylon holds vast untapped potential.” Colin was in his element. This was practically all he did, and he was glad it was proving useful, and interesting, for once. “The industry there is on the precipice of greatness. In five years' time, mark my words, it shall surpass all others. I've even noted down a particular lagoon in my journals that I think will be particularly successful, based on what the locals have said.”

Impressed, Lord Montclair arched an eyebrow in interest. “You have my attention, Colin. Shall we meet next week to explore this further? A partnership between us could prove quite lucrative.”

Colin’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback by your father’s offer. “Absolutely, my Lord. It would be my pleasure.”

“Please, call me Philippe,” he replied, clapping Colin on the back.

Turning to Jacques, your father spoke softly, “Je suppose qu'un titre n'est pas tout” (I suppose a title isn’t everything).

—

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kteezy997 · 3 months

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heyy, can u do one where timmy breaks up with the reader and she´s heartbroken, after a few months she realizes shes pregnant , but doesnt tell him anything (because shes still hurt and thinks he doesnt want her and the child anyhow) and one day they bumb into eachother randomly and he sees his nearly identical 3 yr old son and confronts her? you choose the endning mwuahhhh. btw i love ur writing

Daddy's Boy- Part One//t.c.

warnings: breakup, unexpected pregnancy, angst, fluff, cursing, i think that's it? This is a long one, grab a snack?

You were both young and dumb, and Timmy’s career was growing steadily at the time. He was taking on more and more movies, more commitments, and he straight up told you that he didn’t have time to be in a relationship anymore. He told he’d love you as long as breathed, and maybe one day you’ll find each other again, and you could be together.

You were heartbroken. You didn’t want to speak to him after the breakup, though he tried. It was too painful to even speak to him knowing that you couldn’t have all of him. You knew that cutting off contact cold turkey would be the best for you in the long run.

Just as your healing began, you missed your period a couple of months after the breakup with Timmy. You hadn't missed a period randomly before, so you decided to take a pregnancy test. You hoped that somehow it was only a fluke, and you weren't carrying a Chalamet baby.

Your hopes went out the window when two lines appeared on the tiny screen of the test. You were pregnant.

........

You gave birth to a perfectly healthy and beautiful baby boy. You named him Theodore, with a French flair as a secret nod to his biological father. Though you didn't ever reach out to Timmy, you hoped that the French name would be like a little clue as to who the boy was, if he were to ever come across him.

You were blessed with the support of your family who helped you in any way that you needed as a single working mom. They didn't have any harsh feelings toward Timmy, as he had no say in what the situation was. Your family stuck by you and your decisions.

You worked full-time and took care of Theo when you weren't on the clock. Any free time you had was spent with family and friends. You didn't have the time nor the energy to push yourself back out into the dating world. Besides, you knew that you had already experienced the love of a lifetime with Timmy. No one and nothing could compare to how you felt with him, and you were so in love with the son he gave you.

Theo was like his father in so many ways. He had Timmy's quirks and bubbly, goofy personality. He brought so much laughter and silliness to your life. Like his father, he was never boring. Theo was also sweet, thoughtful, and cuddly, even as a three-year-old.

As he got older, he started to realize that the other kids at his daycare had daddies that would pick them up at the end of the day. He mentioned to you that he felt sad about not having a daddy like the other children.

You told your sweet son that he did have a father, but he just couldn't be with him as he had to leave for his job. "But your daddy is a good man, and he loves you. Don't ever think that you aren't loved, Theo."

"Okay Mommy." your little one said with a shrug.

"Would you want to see some pictures of your daddy?"

Theo's eyes lit up and smiled widely, nodding immediately.

....three years later....

Holy shit. It was him. Timothee. You had taken your son out for a pastry while you got an afternoon iced coffee and you see your ex-boyfriend across the room, who also happens to be the father of said son but has no idea his son even exists because you haven't spoken in three years. What a day.

Your thoughts and heart were racing as you thought of the different ways that this could play out. You could grab Theo, and leave immediately, so as to no give Timmy a chance to even see the two of you. But that would be the shitty thing to do. To be honest, you have felt shitty for three years keeping Timmy's child away from him. You couldn't leave. You wondered if it was fate bringing Theo's father into his life, after all these years.

You decided to stay. You wiped some chocolate off of Theo's face, his sweet little face that was a carbon copy of Timmy. Your son had his father's eyes, nose, hair, body type, everything was all Timmy. Your own genes didn't even try when it came to making this child.

When you looked up and over Timmy's direction again, he caught your gaze. Your former lover's eyes widened at you, as he realized that the two of you were in the same vicinity.

"Mom, I know him! From the pitchers! That's my daddy!" your toddler's voice rang through your ears, and before you knew it, he got down from his chair, and started to run across the coffee shop.

"Theo!" you called after him, getting up immediately to catch him, but he was quick on his little legs. "You cannot run off by yourself!" Your heart was racing, you had never lost control of your little boy like this before, and you were worried he'd get hurt or maybe even a stranger might snatch him.

"Whoa little guy!" you knew that voice better than any other. Timmy had picked up Theo, holding him as if he'd held the boy every day of his life.

You looked on as Timmy and Theo looked at one another, matching dark curls, pale skin, and green eyes. Timmy smiled warmly as your son blushed and hid his face into Timmy's shoulder, acting shy suddenly.

"Hi, y/n." Timmy said, looking at you. "You've got a cute kid."

You took a deep breath, this moment up until now only existed in your dreams, "Thank you."

Timmy sighed, a melancholy look took over his face. You could tell his mind was racing. He came to know the truth, you could see it on his face. He tightened his grip on Theo, holding him more snuggly. "He's mine." It wasn't a question, it was a fact he had realized.

You looked down, feeling so ashamed at yourself. "Yes, he is."

He glared at you. There was nothing behind his eyes as he shook his head. But his expression changed instantly as he turned his attention back to his son. "What's your name, little man?"

"Theodore." the little one grinned, "But Mommy calls me Theo."

You watched as Theo softened like putty in Timmy's arms, he even put his hand on his dad's shoulder.

"I seen pitchers of you. Mommy showed me. I know you my daddy." The declaration in the boy's voice was noticeable.

Timmy chuckled lightly, "She did? Well, I'm very glad to finally meet you, Theo."

You could see your ex-boyfriend's eyes begin to well up, so you said, "Timmy, let's go to my place, okay?"

"Yeah! I want my daddy to come and play with me!" Theo cheered, super excitedly.

Timmy wiped his tears away quickly, "Of course, I'd love to."

.........

The whole way home, Theo was telling Timmy all about his favorite toys in his room. Timmy was fully engaged with what the boy was saying, understanding him perfectly as he spoke. They were instantly like two peas in a pod. It was remarkable. It did, however, add to the stinging pain of guilt you felt about keeping the two of them apart.

Upon entering the house, Theo dragged Timmy by the hand to go show him his room. “Whoa, whoa, slow down buddy.” Timmy said to the three-year-old as he laughed at how excited the boy was.

You couldn’t help but smile at how they got along. You decided to leave them be, to let them play and bond. You did some of your general chores around your home and tidied up the space, then sat down on the couch to watch some mindless tv.

Before you knew it, it was Theo’s bedtime. You had the difficult task of breaking up his first play time with his father.

You opened the door of your son’s room to see toy cars and trucks scattered about, intermixed with some little action figures.

Timmy and Theo were not disturbed by your entry. They were in their own world; Timmy was on his knees, pretending to block Theo as he tried to shoot a ball into his Little Tikes basketball hoop. It was so sweet to see them play and laugh together.

You hated to say anything at all, but little boys needed sleep. "Sorry bubs, but it's bedtime."

"Aw, do I have to go to bed?" Theo whined dropping his miniature basketball.

"Yes, you do." you said firmly to your son. You went over to his dresser to collect some pajamas out of a drawer. "Time for jammies."

"Okay." Theo grumbled, moping on his way to you.

"Don't pout, Theo, you need to do as your mother says." Timmy said with stern, but still light tone as to not hurt Theo's feelings.

Your heart fluttered at Timmy's first attempt at co-parenting with you.

"Can Daddy tuck me in?" he asked as you pulled his shirt over his head.

You looked over at Timmy, who nodded at you in turn. "Yes." you said, finishing getting Theo into his pajamas.

"Alright, little man, time to go to sleep." Timmy said as he helped Theo get into his twin bed, underneath his monster truck themed bedding.

Theo laid down and Timmy covered his tiny body with his blankets, and the boy said, "Can you make sure there are no monsters in the closet?"

Timmy smiled, happy to give his son some comfort, "Sure, buddy." He tussled the little boy's hair, then got up to look into the closet across the room. "No monsters in there. Just a regular ol' closet."

You smiled with tiny giggle as you watched the interaction.

Timmy then crouched down next to Theo's bed, "Goodnight, Theo. I was so glad to meet you today. I had fun playing too."

"Me too, Daddy. Can you come tomorrow too?" your son responded with a sleepy grin.

"I don't know about tomorrow, but I'll see you soon, I promise."

........

You knew what was to come as you walked out of your son's bedroom with his long-lost daddy behind you.

"Y/n, let's talk."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @tchalamss @softhecreator @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet

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ludicdoll · 19 days

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𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: american reader, smoking, soft farleigh, very slight angst, fluff

synopsis: you and farleigh smoke under the sunset, reminiscing on your exciting summer.

a/n: go listen to weak for your love by thee sacred souls nowww

you sigh against the warm breeze, staring up into the golden sky. your summer was coming to an end, which means you would have to leave saltburn, which means you would have to go back home to america. you thought you wouldn’t care when summer ended, in fact you were excited to go back home—but now everything’s changed. your summer started out with felix inviting you after the graduation party. he said “everyone will miss you if you leave so early.” he was definitely just trying to make you feel better, but you caved in on his offer anyway. on the first day you arrived at the estate, elspeth almost immediately claimed you as one of her own children.

she was a very sincere woman, her blonde hair was always pinned up to frame her classic face, and her clothes always reflected her wealth. you were so intimidated by the catton’s at first, but as you got to know them better, you realized they’re quite normal. sure—the family heirloom art pieces on the walls and their 200 acres of land weren’t normal, but on the surface of their personalities, they were just average people who happened to be blessed with money. during your stay at the mansion, you found yourself talking to farleigh more often. at oxford you and farleigh never talked much, only sharing occasional glances from across lecture halls. you shared the same friend group with him due to felix and got along surprisingly well.

you both had witty personalities, a stubborn flare, and incredible fashion tastes. you recall your first real conversation with farleigh. it was on your first night at saltburn during dinner. you were seated next to him and gossiped the whole time about annabel and felix’s situationship. you laughed and smiled at his words and he seemed to be feeling just as amused as you were. now and then you would have your petty, harmless arguments, but nothing too extreme. in the midst of all of the catton’s chaos, you and farleigh found peace in each other. slowly, he even opened up a little to you. he talked about his mom, claiming that he was scared that if he left england, he would never get an ounce of money again. you pitied him truthfully. however, he was also incredibly smart, he just never bothered to show it.

farleigh also loved literature, he would roll his eyes at you whenever you’d call him a nerd but he enjoyed classics, drama, mysteries, romance, almost everything and anything. you would think that him living a chaotic, party filled lifestyle meant that he never had any time to pick up on any other hobbies or interests, but he did. he learned french and was surprisingly good at it, he didn’t speak it fluently—but he knew enough to hold up a conversation with someone random.

you sit in your window nook, closing your book and placing down on the cushion, staring out of the cracked window as you ash your cigarette out of the open panes. it’s mid september, the weather was slightly cool, but the humidity from the light rain earlier had made it slightly warmer. you raise your fingers to you mouth, dragging out the smoke from your cigarette. you lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes as you breathe in the air around you. suddenly, you’re awoken by a knock on your door. “come in!” you call out as a head of curls poke through the door. farleigh smiles before closing the door behind him and walking over to you. he’s wearing a dark navy ralph lauren cable knit sweater (very fitting for him) and black trousers. he looked like he just got back home from something. “having your main character moment, i see?” he teases as he sits down across from you in the nook. you roll your eyes, softly shaking your head with a laugh. he grins, looking down at the book in your lap.

farleigh reaches over, grabbing it before reading the title outloud. “one hundred years of solitude,” he repeats. “how are you just now reading this?” you snatch the book out of his hand before placing it back down next to you. “oh, i’m sorry i’m not a nerd like you.” you reply mockingly. farleigh gives you a deadpan expression before cocking his head to the side, staring at you with low eyes. he readjusts himself in the cushion, scooting closer to the where his legs were touching yours. “venetia won’t be able to shut up when you leave.” he mutters. you turn, smiling weakly. you’ll miss her too, you’ll miss everyone when you’re gone. the two of you sit in silence for a minute, soaking in the beautiful shift in colors within the sky. you pull a cigarette out of its box next to you, offering it to him. he stares at you, almost like he was hesitating to take it or not. of course, he couldn’t decline so he swiftly took it out of your fingers.

you grab your lighter and ignite the flame by his lips. he immediately groans quietly, a wave of relief glowing across his face. “where were you all day?” you ask. “you just disappeared during brunch.” farleigh blows a thin line of smoke out of his mouth, shrugging. “the pub.” he looks over your empty room, biting down on his bottom lip. you used to have so many posters and polaroids littered across your walls, but you had already packed all of your stuff—leaving the room blank. “god, it’s so boring in here now.” he says. his breath suddenly hitches when he sees your suitcase in the corner of the room, packed and ready for your leave. you notice this and reach over to touch his shoulder.

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you rub at his arm. “aw, you gonna miss me, far?” you ask with an exaggerated sad face. farleigh scoffs, chuckling softly at your expression. “mmm, don’t get ahead of yourself.” you giggle, turning your head to look at the sky above you. you had made so many memories here, so many friends you wouldn’t be able to replace back in the states. a part of you wished you could stay in england, but another part of you missed your home. “do you remember the first time we met?” farleigh breaks the silence suddenly. you glance over at him, raising a brow. “it was at felix’s acceptance party. you showed up wearing a bold silver sequin skirt, very bold.” you cringe as you recall your odd fashion choices in your first year at oxford.

“oh god, don’t remind me.” you cry out as you pinch your nose bridge with a defeated sigh. farleigh laughs, exhaling the smoke out of the window. “truly … it was definitely the talk of the night.” he adds on to make you wince further. you raise a hand, waving it in front of him, hoping he’d stop talking. “but—i liked your outfit that night. i thought that you had to be interesting if you were wearing that.”

“really?” you ask. he nods, a smirk dancing on his lips. you sit up, leaning closer to him. you stare up at farleigh through your lashes, cocking your head to the side. “and was i interesting?”

farleigh seems to get a rise out of this sudden confidence from you. he leans down closer as well, just inches away from your face. “mhm,” he hums as he raises his cigarette back up to his mouth. you can’t help but stare at his pink lips as he takes a long drag. the two of you exchange quiet glances, a thick tension rising in the air. “whatever shall i do without you?” he teases as he leans back on his palm. “well, i’m not leaving until tomorrow morning.” you glance over at the grand clock in the corner of the room before turning back to meet farleigh’s gaze. “—we still have a couple more hours together.”

“yea? it’s not enough.” he muttered the last part quietly, but loud enough for you to dicipher. farleigh looked so soft under the sunset, the rays of pink light illuminating his face perfectly. your stomach suddenly flips, a wave of heat spreading to your face. he looked almost angelic in a way. you never thought about your right dynamic with farleigh. others around you would often say you and farleigh were close, maybe a little too close. you liked sitting in his lap and he liked holding you, not like it was im a sexual manner, you just genuinely enjoyed his touch. it was purely platonic to you from the start. but as you spent more time with him, you realized his demeanor would get you a nervous mess at times.

you thought you didn’t like farleigh, but the fuzzy feeling that would overtake you would make you squirm under his stare. it made you feel like you were twelve again with your first crush. ��maybe we could just spend the next few hours talking.” farleigh says. you blink, examining in his soft features. the longer you stared, the more you’d notice certain aspects of him face you never acknowledged before—like how he had very faint fading freckles in the summer, or that one curl that would fall on his forehead perfectly. you nod in response to his suggestion before leaning back to your original position. for the next two hours, you and farleigh just sit there, rambling on about everything you could think of. your conversation ranged from shit talking to philosophy, then to the planets orbiting around us. you talked so long to the point where the sun started to set, slowly dipping below the horizon with a burst of pinks and oranges. you grab at his arm, gasping quietly as you gaze up at the sky. “look!” you point out. he raises a brow, glancing back and forth between you and the sunset. “what?”

“the sky!” you say in an obvious tone. “happens everyday, nothing new.” he says nonchalantly as he releases himself from your grip, resting his head against the window. you groan, smacking his arm with the back of your hand. “okay, well it’s my last sunset in england.” you turn your body fully so it’s facing the window, legs crossed underneath you as you put out your cigarette. you feel the cushions slowly sink when farleigh scoots closer. he places his head on your shoulder, sighing quietly. “m’gonna miss you.” his voice is low, rough but smooth at the same time. you tilt your head to look at him, giggling at his sudden honesty. “i’m serious,” farleigh picks his head back up from your shoulder, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

his eyes flicker back and forth from your eyes to your lips, his face show a look of contemplation. for a moment, you wish he would come back to america with you. the thought of him living with you didn’t bother you. in fact, it sounded perfect. he was a genuine person—and yes, he was a bitch but he was truthful and sweet when he wanted to be. “i wish i could stay longer.” you whisper. farleigh trails his thumb up to your bottom lip, tilting closer to you. “you could,” he says. you laugh awkwardly, “i’m sure the catton’s are sick of me though.”

“i’m not.”

you stare up at him, his dark eyes boring into yours. he looks so vulnerable right now, so calm and content. it was a rare occurrence if you saw farleigh not gushing out insults left and right. his voice made you shiver, goosebumps lining your skin with each syllable that left his pretty mouth. “i—i don’t want you to go.” farleigh stutters out with a soft sigh in a way that sounded like it was ashamed of admitting it. before you could respond, his lips crash onto yours. his pace is frantic at first then it softens, kisses delicate and slow. farleigh’s hand on your jaw trails around to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, pulling him close to your body. you could feel his warmth radiating off of yours, it was so sudden. you never expected to be making out with the farleigh start. there’s so many things running through your mind, but they all vanish into clouds as you melt against his soft lips. your stomach flutters rapidly, a slight buzz rising to your head. he grins into the kiss, a shitfaced grin at that. farleigh slips his tongue in your mouth, the subtle taste of liquor on him.

“far—” you whimper through labored breathing. he slows, pulling away from the kiss as he rests his forehead against yours. his hand falters from the back of your head to your neck. “fuck, you don’t understand what you do to me.” you crane up, looking at him with doe eyes. “please stay. just for a little while.” he begs, brows furrowed with worry as he laces his fingers into yours. you swallow, glancing over at the packed suitcase on the floor. you peer back up at farleigh, a small smile tugging on your lips. “please.” he repeats.

“okay,” you breathe out, “i’ll stay for a little longer.”

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh #farleigh start #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh x reader

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offside-the-lines · 4 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs. They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends. Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

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reythenerdypisces · 3 months

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things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 3: The Titan's Curse

The truth was I was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. It was the first time she'd gone to school in New York. I'd been hoping to see her more often.

I tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl - anything but that fact that Annabeth was taller than me, and my hands were sweaty and probably gross, and I kept stepping on her toes.

"The General?" I asked. Then I realised I'd said it in a French accent. "I mean... who's the General?" I want this part to be in the show

"Sweet! Let's go! [to CHB]" said Nico. this breaks my heart. he was so excited in this book

Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter).

"How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?" "Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone." "But she was like, the goddess of flowers." Grover looked offended. "Springtime." you tell him grover

"That's some serious danger you're facing." Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) I'm just imagining the rest of the campers not bothering to go on quests cause it's always the same few demigods and they don't care, they're just chilling safe at CHB while Percy and Annabeth do their things

The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!" But I couldn't understand his thoughts. I only speak horse. Percy Jackson speaks two languages: English and Horse

With a shiver, I realised that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half blood long after I was dead but Bianca would still look twelve years old. ouch

"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said. "Of course." Grover said. "It's wild!" "So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.

"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.

When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. I know everyone talks about this part but I can't help but bring it up again, they are so cute

"Woah, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what's up with tragic!" little does he know. also, Percy is so incredibly insightful in this book but he's also so jealous of Annabeth and Luke and so upset about the idea of her joining the hunters yet still can't figure out that he likes her

"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." I cannot explain how much this little bit means to me.

The girl I'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god." she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?" Rachel's here!!! I love her

Five minutes later, Zoe had me outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat. someone draw this and tag me. what an outfit

Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us. How could I let that happen to her? he is the most empathetic, wholesome guy, I love Percy

"Can't this go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic." You both sound like my mother." I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison. I kind of wish we got more Thalia and Zoe interactions... they would've made such a great enemies to lovers dynamic, if Zoe didn't die

"Get away from my daughter!" Dr Chase called down, and his machine gun burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering. "Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.

Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger." I said. might I remind you this boy is 13/14 and has the whole world on his shoulders (both literally at some point and figuratively)

I feel like these are just getting longer and longer but again, I will be back for part 4!

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #pjo disney+#the titans curse #rick riordan #perseus jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #rachel dare #thalia grace #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo

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bruciemilf · 2 years

Text

,,,, russian bruce wayne

Russian Bruce Wayne

RUSSIAN BRUCE WAYNE -

Listen. Listen. Not fully compacted into something coherent, but I'll do my best, because this idea has been haunting me, -

SO he's russian on his mother's side!! Martha Wayne immigrated in America when she was a teenager, nothing to her name but hope in her chest and her mother's pearl necklace in her pocket

She always got ugly looks for speaking in her native language and her accent. Slowly, it melted into something perfectly English, but she still spoke Russian at home and especially to Bruce

Little Bruce loved Baba Yaga as a kid and dressed like her for Halloween every single year; Nobody really understood it, but a glare from Alfred was enough to fill a bag full of candy

Martha and Bruce would talk shit in front of Thomas' faux philanthropist friends, but they were on wildly different spectrums

Martha, whispering: You see that man, Brucie? He sold his soul to greed. He's a worm of a human and his morals are rotten. That's why his eyes are dead

Bruce: haha, he's balding at 25

Martha, Alfred, and Bruce cooking beef stroganoff, syriniki, borscht, and Bruce's absolute favorite- pirozhki.

Martha also played the piano and LOVED Swan Lake so, so much. It was the one song that calmed Bruce during night terrors.

When he reaches eight, it all stops.

He eventually reconnects with his Russian roots in his 20s, when he's in college and his literature teacher shares a DISRESPECTFULLY incorrect opinion about one of Dostoevsky's works.

His teacher scoffed, " Well. Didn't know we had a Russian citizen here. "

" Not a citizen, but I AM a Russian descendent. My mother was an immigrant. That's kind of how America was formed. It's a pretty significant thing that happened."

Imagine you're a Gotham criminal and Batman starts muttering things about you in Russian. Somehow that's even more intimidating than anything he does.

" I can't believe they're more afraid of someone who doesn't speak English than a guy who beats up people dressed as a bat."

Alfred hums, sloooowly pulling away the vodka cereal Bruce made. " I can't imagine why. You're the poster child for mental health, sir."

" Not funny, papachka"

" For you."

When Dick is brought into the nest, Bruce struggles a bit with showing his affections; He only has money to offer, but Dick is happily uninterested in that, and seeks Bruce out instead.

BRUCE ABSOLUTELY SPENDS AN ENTIRE NIGHT TRYING TO PERFECT HIS MOTHER'S BAKLAVA FOR DICK!!

yes he's supposed to be on patrol. No, he doesn't care, Jim. It's all worth it when Dick takes a single bite and he has stars in his eyes and vines his little but strong arms around him, " this is PERFECT! Thank you so much, dad"

Air freezes in his blood, " ... Of course, ptichka."

He absolutely uses russian proverbs all the time (mostly when his children need to be reprimanded and reminded that making jokes is illegal when they're on duty)

JASON AND BRUCE FIGHTING OVER TRANSLATIONS AND CONTEXT IN ENGLISH ADAPTATIONS OF SLAVIC LITERATURE!

" PAPI, THAT'S NOT WHAT THEY MEANT TO SAY!"

" MISKHA I'M SO GRATEFUL YOUR GRANDMA ISN'T HERE, BECAUSE SHE'D DIE AGAIN IF SHE HEARD YOU SAY THAT!"

Damian 100000% prides himself on knowing russian and communicating with Bruce the smoothest.

It becomes a competition soon enough. Bruce is SO tired but the way they butcher words is funny, so he just pretends they're right.

The League finds out when Bruce snaps and calls Hal Cyka in a low, angry mutter while stomping away from his stupidity. " ... Bless you? What did he call me?"

Diana, struggling so hard not to laugh. " He said you were a genius."

" Huh. Had no idea he was French."

Meanwhile Clark is losing HIS shit because wow, Bruce's russian might be the hottest thing he ever heard. Please, this dork would absolutely try to learn Russian and talk to Bruce more.

He's absolutely horrible with it but Bruce is just very excited. He definetly chuckles (which. Wow. Clark couldn't even make him GRIN 3 weeks ago) " You just asked me if I sleep with my dentist."

" ...Oh. I...Was trying to ask you for drinks. You can kill me right now. Please?"

" Maybe another time, solnyshko. Take me for a drink first."

Clark inhales. " oKaY thank yoU."

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