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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

Text

Double Trouble

Pairing: Charles x Pierre x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Poly relationship, slight suggestive smut, Charles is in a crash, jealous boyfriends

Words: 1.7K

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Ya girl has got her ADD meds back and will be back to her normal schedule kick as writing tomorrows, and promise the next poly fic I do, is better

"Charles get over it, he asked first, and I agreed." Groaning over the phone, you pack your suitcase to head to Spain. You hadn't seen your boyfriends and were starting to miss them dearly. "SO?! You're ours. Why are you even going to the Red Bull garage?" Charles snips, hearing the busy streets of Barcelona around him.

"Max asked; we're childhood friends, Charles; Pierre doesn't have a problem with it." You knew pulling the Pierre card would work. "No. Y/n, I don't care that Pierre said it was okay; I'm not okay with it." You stop folding your clothes, shocked that Charles wasn't backing down on this. The dynamic in your relationship was that people didn't push. They thought the 3 of you were just excellent friends. Not dating.

"Charles, Pierre said it was fine. Why do you still have a problem with this? I thought you liked Max?" You ask, zipping up your suitcase and sitting on the bed, hating how cold it felt without your boys here. "Of course I like Max; he's a great friend. But does that mean I like my girl having someone else's last name on her back? Of course not!" You hear a ding, probably Charles entering the hotel.

"Hey, who are you talking to?" You hear Pierre's voice and smile, wishing you could be there now. "Pierre! Tell Charles you're okay with it!" You yell through the phone, hearing Charles curse and put you on speaker. "Okay, with what?" Pierre asks, opening his and Charles's hotel room and ushering him in quick before people notice them.

"Her going to the Red Bull garage and wearing Max's number and name on her back." Pierre is silent and not wanting to start an argument. He just nods. "Yeah, I'm fine with it." Pierre tugs his shirt off, watching Charles begin to fume. "Fuck it, just get here as soon as you can Mon lapinou." (my bunny) Charles hangs up and stares at Pierre's back.

"You aren't okay with it, are you?" Pierre whisps around and glares. "Of course, I'm not okay with it! But it would've started an argument, and I don't want her mad at us before she visits." Charles scuffs but can understand why he didn't want to anger you. "Can we go to bed? Her flight leaves soon, so let's sleep, and then she'll be here." Pierre moves to the bed and lays down, pulling Charles with him.

Pierre adjusts Charles to have his head resting on his chest. Fingers run through Charles's hair, making the younger one calm down. Pierre is close to sleep when Charles's voice breaks his silence. "Why, Max, though?" Pierre groans loudly. "Go to sleep Char."

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"Max, you didn't have to pick me up." You laugh, hugging the Dutch driver, who embraces you in one big bear hug. "Of course, I had to. Besides, any chance to make Pierre and Charles jealous." You stop, staring at Max, who smiles at you, like an innocent child that's actually guilty.

"You know?" Worry clawing at you. The reason is that the 3 of you agreed to hide your relationship. The world has come a long way, but with their status, you weren't ready to share. "Of course, the way they stare at you. How they rip anyone's head off when they touch you. Or maybe it was when I found the 3 of you at my party in the bathroom, and Charles was-" "Oh god! Okay!" You yell, covering your very red face. "Yeah, you said that a lot."

"Max!" You screech, chasing after your best friend in the airport, laughing as he runs faster than you. He reaches the car, throws the suitcase into the back, and opens the side door. "I won't tell anyone. Though I must say," Raising his hand, he offers you a high-five which you give him, rolling your eyes.

"You're a child." You chastise, making him giggle, opening the passenger side door for you and helping you. "So? How does it work?" Max asks, starting the car and heading towards the track. "What sex? Well, Charles is very su," "NO!" Max yelps, giggling; you pat his head and sigh. "Dating them. How does dating them work?" Max looks over at you. Seeing your smile, he knows he isn't kicking ass.

"Like any other couple. They aren't dating dating. You know, they have to feel for each other. But they just cuddle and kiss each other on the forehead or their heads. The very rare kiss on the lips." Shrugging, Max hums and moves one hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

"I've missed you. It'll be good to have you in the paddock." Max pulls his hand away, patting the back of your head, watching you go deep into thought as he drives to the track.

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Walking out of the Red Bull hospitality, you see Charles and Pierre giggle.

"Mon vilain!" (my naughty) You yell, causing Charles to whip around and smile brightly.

"Y/n!" Charles yells and bolts around the people, scooping you up. Legs wrapping around his waist, holding him tight, you both inhale each other's scent. "Out of people's view." Strong hands pull you both out of view and into a dark corner between hospitalities. "Pierre." You whisper, feeling those strong fingers move over your body and pull you into his chest.

"Mon mimi." (My pussycat) Pierre sighs, pulling your face out of Charles's neck and turning you to face him as he kisses you deeply. Tongues mixed, teeth nipped at your lip, soft moans passed between you. "Shhh, people will hear." Charles whimpers in your ear from you grinding on him as Pierre pulls away, gasping for air.

"Stop, fuck, stop before I come right here," Charles whines, having Pierre pull you off your boyfriend, the both of you giggling at how flustered Charles is. "Shut it. I can't help that I've missed yo- What are you wearing?" Charles asks, finally seeing your appearance, and get ready to have a giant ass fight.

"Is that Max's shirt?" Charles's question was low, almost a whisper. Pierre looks down at your back, seeing Verstappen clear across your back. Looking up, they lock eyes. Pierre steps to Charles's side and tries to remain calm. "Yes?" Pierre scuffs, causing you to make a face at Pierre. "Take it off." You laugh and shake your head, wanting to support your best friend; why should you.

"No. You said it was fine, Pierre. Why are you changing your mind now?" You bite back on your attitude, knowing it wouldn't help you. "Okay, that was before I saw his name on our girl," His hand reaches out and wraps around your neck, pushing you gently against the wall, making you whine. "You're a Leclerc and Gasly girl; take that fucking shirt off. You're only allowed to have our names on your back. Change. Now." Pulling away, he smiles at you, then kisses you and walks off, leaving you and Charles alone.

"étoile, can't you understand why we're upset?" (Star) He asks, putting his body against yours knowing the pressure would calm you down. "No, because we're just friends, right?" Throwing it in his face was a low blow. Charles was the sweetheart out of you 3. He was the one most hurt by you both wanting to hide the relationship, and saying that made him flinch.

"That's not fair. Not fair." Charles pulls away, shakes his head, and leaves you alone. Throat tight, you walk back to Max's suit and stare at your image. You can see how they'd be hurt, especially Charles. You knew he'd be hurt with you wearing his biggest rival and the one who is constantly beating him. "Dammit."

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Charles and Pierre both had DNF'd. One from mechanical error, the other due to a crash, and now you sat in Pierre's driver's room, waiting for him so you could go to Charles and check on him together. "Mon Mimi." Looking up, you see Pierre's tired face; rushing to him, you hug him tight, knowing he is worried about Charles.

"Is he okay?" You ask not allowed to visit Charles, so you've been sitting here wearing one of his personal shirts, wanting to be wrapped in his scent. 'No, he was winning and crashed when he and Max collided. So, no, mon mimi, he is not okay." Pierre growls, hugging you tight, worried about Charles himself.

"Did I do this?" You knew that Pierre probably knew what you had said to Charles earlier. "Let's go see him." That was his answer, so you knew the answer. Pierre didn't want to admit it, but a small part of him was furious at you saying something like that to Charles, but he also knew it was in a moment of anger.

Walking to the door, you don't wait to knock and rush in, seeing Charles lying on the bed, having to be observed overnight. "Cha!" You yelp, throwing yourself on top of him; the Ferrari driver groans but holds you close. "I didn't mean it! I swear we're not friends. Okay, you're the love of my life. Please forgive me." You rush out, making him sigh, and adjust to laying on his chest and making room for Pierre.

The French man lays down and pulls you into him as you softly cry into Charles's chest, who holds you close. "You're both my life. I can't do anything without you, but wearing his.....his shirt was a low blow. We might be friends off the track, but seeing the woman who I love with each breath, punched a hole in me. What would it be like if Pierre or I did that?" He whispers in your hair and pulls you closer, hating to see you cry.

"I'm sorry, please don't. Just trying to be funny. Did I cause the crash because I got in your head?" You ask, but Charles chuckles. "No, My steering gave out, and I lost control. Crash due to power loss." You nod and move to lie between both boys. "Can we tell people soon?" You whisper, which has Pierre and Charles staring at each other before smiling brightly. "Hell yeah." Pierre tackles you both, squeals of laughter leaving you and Charles happy to not be hiding anymore.

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 10 months

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Could you do townies reactions to a non-human farmer? I imagine my farmer with mouse ears and a tail! Thank you!!!

Sure thing :D

Since you picture your Farmer with mouse ears and a tail, the Farmer will be like that in the stories. Thank you for asking! 🫰 Enjoy!

SDV townies react to a non-human Farmer:

"So that gnawed through bag of grain and seed was your doing, Farmer?" Well done Pierre, very considerate of you. What makes him think that even if Farmer has rodent-like body parts, they should behave like a rodent? Pierre decided to quickly fix the not-too-successful dialogue with his client for the better, offering the offended Farmer to purchase delicious cheese with a 45% discount, because they must be very fond of cheese! *judgmental look* What, he screwed up again?

Strange, Haley could have sworn something had changed in Farmer. Tell her the truth? What are they talking about? Oh? Hee-hee, why were they wearing those funny furry mouse ears? They're kinda cute, Haley's already reaching out to touch them and recognize the quality of the fabric and- Yeeeeeeeee! They move!?

Emily knows the feeling: only yesterday she felt like a fragile butterfly flitting from one flower to another in a flurry of dance. Today she feels like a free bird, spreading the wind with her feather wings! Ah, she can tell the Farmer a lot about- What? Not just a feeling? Are they real? That tail.... Oh. She doesn't know what to say. Maybe they could come over for tea and talk about it.

The Farmer can trust Marlon with their secrets without fear - the old one-eyed adventurer won't tell anyone about their inhuman origins if they want to keep it a secret. Furthermore, if the Farmer is persecuted because of their non-human origins, he will give them refuge in his Guild (only if the Farmer hasn't done something illegal or immoral).

Hold on... Caroline needs to check her herbal tea. Hmm, no, it's fine, nothing toxic in it. So Farmer's mouse ears aren't a figment of her imagination? Interesting. She's not really surprised (which surprised Farmer themself). The thing is, Caroline has dealt with something unusual before when she was younger. Well, to be more precise - with someone unusual, but she decided not to go into details, or else there would be too uncomfortable questions. She treats the Farmer's secret with respect, and they treat hers with respect. Wouldn't you agree? Excellent! More tea?

Gil will also keep their secret, and give moral support to their young Guild member. If the Farmer is comfortable, then maybe they will tell Gil about their non-human and not-so-ordinary life. Gil would be interesting to hear, he'd just about pour brandy (or tea if Farmer don't like alcohol) for everyone.

Young man/lady, why are you wearing those silly mouse ears? The Fall festivities are still a while away, so what's the point of this masquerade? What? Speak up, George can't hear you. Are they real? Yeah yeah, and the tail too, he bet, you can't fool him. He may be old, but he's not stupid enough to believe this nonsense.

When Rasmodius looked into the future, he saw vaguely that the new Farmer would be an unusual person, but even he had no idea they would be so unusual. Well, he would react to it calmly (the wizard had seen a lot in his life), even suggesting a special magical ointment if they wanted to hide their non-human origins from unwanted attention.

Haha, good one. Wait, they're not joking...? Wow, interesting. Looks like the Valley holds more secrets than Leah could have imagined. But... What does that change? So, a little non-human, so what? They're kind enough to her and the other people of the Valley, so Leah will accept them warmly and without prejudice.

Heh, what a weirdo. Spirits Eve is a whole season away and they're already wearing a costume. Alex can't figure out why they're wearing those mouse ears. Wait, did they twitch? And the tail, too? !?!?!??! What?

Being an outcast is nothing new for Linus at all. He knows that those who are different from the many are usually subject to ridicule and bullying. Fortunately, Stardew Valley is inhabited by people who are kind and patient enough. And Linus wants Farmer not to feel like an outcast because they are different from humans either. Let Linus repay you for the kindness you showed them at the very beginning of your arrival at the farm.

*Gasp*! Jodi dropped the plate and it shattered. Yoba, how is that possible? Wait, surely it's not a contagious disease or mutation? If they have limbs like a rat, they don't transmit diseases like rats, right?! She's terrified of rats and mice! Was that rather rude of her? Forgive her, Farmer. But they can't just go to her house and tell her that they're- half mouse? Or half rat? Or... She still doesn't get it.

And when Kent came out of the bedroom at the sound of a broken plate to see if his wife and Farmer were all right, he saw Farmer in their real guise. Kent's reaction was just 🗿 You shouldn't expect anything else from him. He'll stand there with 🗿 face and look at the guest, and then with the same 🗿 face he'll go get a broom and dustpan to pick up the plate shards from the floor.

Willy learned of Farmer's secret by accident when he was returning late from the Saloon and caught Farmer on the sandy shore as they were engaged in night fishing. It would not have surprised the old fisherman..... Except that the Farmer was fishing with their tail instead of his rod, and quite skillfully, aye aye! Willi immediately assured the Farmer, who was frightened at the sight of him, that he would not give away their secret. He also wondered if fish really bite better on their tails.

Abigail, in addition to delight and surprise, will also find reason to tease Farmer a bit. Just a little. She won't mock Farmer, of course, but she will often blow into Farmer's mouse ears to annoy them a little, especially since the ears twitch so amusingly from the ticklish sensation. Alright, alright, don't look at her so grumpy, she'll be a goody-goody :3

"....Are you one of those weirdos on TV who claim to be dogs/cats/any other animal?" Pam always watches that show over a bottle of beer and laughs at the absurdity of people. Hey, what are they looking at her like that? Yeah yeah yeah, they're not lying of course. They even can get a number and sign up for their show, might become a new TV star.

Uhhhh.... Yeah, sure, that's great! Penny is so happy for them! Oh no Penny seems to have forgotten to turn off the iron, the stove, the faucet, whatever, she has to go now, bye! (Oh Yoba oh Yoba oh Yoba... Either the Farmer's crazy or Penny's crazy.)

"Holy shit" was all Sebastian said, dropping cigar from his mouth as Farmer revealed their true colors to him. Farmer might think that Sebby felt disgusted with them, but he actually thought it was the coolest thing in the world. Sebastian will keep their secret and not show any negative emotion (inside he squeals like a girl "oh Yoba this is so cool" but he won't show that emotion either. Sebby is pretty reserved on emotions).

Wow, what a miracle... Gus has seen and heard all sorts of things, but this is the first time he's ever seen anything like this. Still, it doesn't change anything, and his Saloon's door to the Farmer is always open. He can also understand that sometimes constant secrecy can bring a lot of stress, so Gus will make them their favorite meal on the house. If they can't make it to the Saloon, he'll deliver the meal directly to their home. Human or not, no one should be hungry and sad.

Oh, my goodness! They have whiskers and mouse ears! And they're real! Marnie got a little scared. Oh, no, no, no, she didn't mean to hurt them, please forgive her! They're not scary, she was just more surprised. *Sigh* Now she feels bad. Maybe a treat of tasty cheese will make up for it? No, she's not teasing them, the cheese actually turned out delicious.

To say that Harvey was at a loss for words when Farmer was x-rayed is an understatement. The doctor was in complete shock. At first he was a little annoyed and didn't understand why Farmer didn't want to take those toy ears off their head. But when the x-rays and tests showed that it was all their body parts..... Okay, he'd have to look up in medical books if there was such a phenomenon at all to at least understand what he was dealing with. Hold on, not a human? Okay, now he doesn't need books, he needs wine. A very... strong... wine.

What? How? A change in the body? A mutation? Animal ears and tail?! They need to get him to a lab right away, Demetrius needs to take tests and x-rays! It's a real phenomenon. He can't believe it. He.... Oh, sorry Farmer, he shouldn't have overreacted and embarrassed Farmer so much. Apologize for that.

"Dad..." Maru knows that her dad can overreact if he gets too passionate about something, so her mom or herself needs to remind her dad about respecting personal space. And though Maru herself is very interested in Farmer's singularity, she's more worried about their health. It doesn't negatively affect their lives in any way, right? If Farmer feels unwell, let them turn to her or Dr. Harvey.

"What's happened? Don't tell me you almost burned down the lab again-" Robin hadn't really woken up yet (especially after a night at the Saloon with her husband), just yawned tiredly.... and looked first at the Farmer with the mouse ears for half a minute. Then she looked at Demetrius and Maru. After that she decided to turn 180 degrees and walked back to the bedroom. Well, she won't be ordering that new Gus cocktail again.....

"What do you call cheese that isn't yours? Nacho Cheese! Oh, how about this one: What did the teenage cheese yell at its parents? Leave me provolone! Hah! And another one-" even Farmer in their hidden thoughts couldn't imagine that after telling Sam about their real self, the young musician would start telling dad jokes instead of, you know, being frightened or surprised. Sammy, dear, you're too young for that. On the other hand, Farmer is glad Sam hasn't changed his mind about them. "What kind of music does cheese like?" Oh, gods...

Shane spent literally two minutes looking at the mouse-eared Farmer and replaying in his head Farmer's admission that they weren't quite human. Then Shane looked at his can of beer. It's full, which means he's still sober. He looked at Farmer again. Then at the can of beer. And again at the Farmer. And again at the beer. "Fuck..." He wasn't going to have a good day off today.

"My dear, I've known about this for a long time" "What?..." As it turned out, Evelyn was very close friends with Grandpa - so close, in fact, that he had told her about his family unusual origins, knowing that Evelyn would keep it a secret. And it makes no difference whether Grandpa is human or not. They were the kindest person and a wonderful friend. And his grandchild is just as kind and wonderful ❤️ Oh dear, Farmer, why are you crying?

Lewis only shook his head at that. In the Farmer's family, it seems to be some kind of strange joke that has been passed down from generation to generation. First their Grandpa also claimed to be non-human, and now the Farmer. Heh, hilarious, made the old major laugh. You're so much like him, Farmer, and the jokes are the same. Lewis warmly remembers his youth and his friendship with Farmer's Grandpa...

When the Farmer decided to tell the secret to the children of Stardew Valley, Vincent was the first to bombard the poor Farmer with a bunch of questions. He believed that the Farmer is like a superhero who could hear better, or they could smell better. Oh oh oh! And they can talk to animals, mice particular? Because if yes, then wow!!!

Leo also decided, along with Vincent, to question the Farmer about their unusual origins. It turns out that they are as strange as Leo himself. That is probably why they so quickly found a common language on the island. You could say two birds of the same feather. So you can really talk to mice like Vincent claims?!

Despite her great curiosity, no less than that of her friends, Jas refrained from asking many questions, realizing that perhaps telling this secret was not easy for the Farmer. And the fact that they had to hide their non-human origins upset Jas a little. Oh! Maybe she and Vincent and Leo will also wear toy mouse ears and claim that they all and Farmer have organized a secret club? Then the Farmer can walk around in peace without fear! (The Farmer laughed off the idea, but decided to give it a try. Surprisingly enough, it worked).

"Yeah, so?" Clint can safely compete with Kent for the best reaction to Farmer with their story about their non-human origins. Just pure 🗿. And it's unclear if Clint is either tired of all this shit with blacksmith that he doesn't show a single emotion, or if he's seen weirder people.

Yoba! Unbelievable! So his dear friend isn't human? That is so amazing! Wait, wait, wait, Elliott is interested in hearing about their lives as non-humans. No, wait, he has to put it down on paper. It'll be like their biography (he'll hide their real name if Farmer wants to). What? What do you mean he wasn't surprised? He was very much surprised, all emotional right now! Disgusted? Absolutely not, nonsense! Elliott generally thinks their mouse ears are quite cute. *Ahem* Well, let's not get distracted, he's already got the paper and ink pen. The story begins...

"Fascinating. It's either a race unknown to mankind or magic", Gunther scratched his chin for a long time, lost in thought. In any case, the door to the library are always open for Farmer, maybe they would find useful information about their unusual case. Or they come to him for a cup of hot coffee, maybe they'll talk about the various civilisations whose artifacts have survived to this day.

"Discounts at JoJa Mart for cheese and seeds! Seeds are discounted by as much as 50% off! You can buy enough to both plant on the farm and nibble on the seeds yourself. You love them as a mouse or something, don't you? Then buy from Joja before they sell out!", and it seemed to the Farmer that no one could outdo Pierre in his tactlessness. They were wrong. First place went to Morris. Well done. The fuck is wrong with these two...

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hourcat · 8 months

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Piarles + 21. Accidental pregnancy 😳 (anonymous bc I've got shy about the prompt dkdjkdj:')

21. Accidental Pregnancy

(everyone please be nice to me this is my first a/b/o)

Charles thought the hardest part would be saying it out loud.

Well, actually, he thought the hardest part would be actually accepting it himself. There’d been a stomach bug going around campus, students and fellow professors alike, and he’s not exactly known for having the strongest immune system in the first place. But his doctor had recommended it as a precaution—Omega biology is funny when it comes to viral infections, he’d said, and really, it’s just better to be safe than sorry. The university covers testing costs, anyway, so it’s not like he’s going to be paying out of pocket.

That night, he’d stared at the stick for hours, the little positive line so front-and-center before his eyes it’d become burned into his eyelids. There’s no way, he’d repeated like a mantra. I can’t be pregnant. I can’t. It's not like—he hasn't been mated, hasn't even really had a true alpha to go running to, although that's definitely been less than true the last few months. But he and Pierre…it's casual. The university they work at is strict about Heat Maintenance, especially since they're exposed to so many young Alphas and Omegas each day from class to class: Pierre is the literature department co-chair, and Charles has spent plenty of time with him over their overlapping tenure, so it'd felt like a comfortable enough ask when the new compliance policies were rolled out at the start of last semester.

Omega professors cannot skip heats. So Charles had asked Pierre, the Alpha he's got the best relationship with, to help out from time to time. Pierre had graciously agreed, and since August, they've been doing this—working through Charles' cycles together.

(An understatement, he knows: sometimes he swears the thought of Pierre's knot inside him triggers his heat days before it's supposed to hit in the first place.)

But the word casual is how Charles has been describing it since the start, alongside maybe convenient, and being pregnant with Pierre's pup is neither casual nor convenient. Because it is Pierre's, Charles has no doubt: he hasn't slept with anyone else since the start of the academic year, even when Pierre's schedule means he can't be there. Truth be told, at this point, he'd rather spend it alone than with anyone else. Charles has only given himself to one Alpha, out of convenience that's turned into something more, and now he's being reminded of the consequences of that.

He doesn't sleep a wink the night he finds out, and when he goes back to the school's doctor the next day and gets it confirmed, he doesn't sleep the night after, either.

Pierre finds him in his office later the following afternoon, the cup of decaf coffee he'd been reluctantly sipping on to keep from falling asleep now cold and even more undesirable. "You look like hell, Charlie," he chuckles, inviting himself in and dropping into one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Were you up grading papers too?"

He's so casual. Charles feels a wave of nausea wash over him at the knowledge that he'll have to tell the truth before his body does it for him. He grips the edge of his desk. This will be the hardest part, he tells himself silently. He'll lose his Alpha (because at this point, that's who Pierre is—no one else will ever be him) and their maintenance agreement, which means he'll be forced to find something else, which means this job he loves so much will be gone in a matter of months. Fuck.

"I…" he starts, but his throat closes around the words I'm pregnant. Hot tears burn at the corners of his eyes.

Pierre notices. Of course he notices, he's Pierre: Charles can smell it on him, the way his sweet amusement harshens into a bitter concern at the sight. "Charles," he murmurs lowly, scooting the chair so close that he can practically drape himself across Charles' desk to hold him, "what is wrong?" He reeks of concern. Charles' stomach turns again. "Charles, please, tell me. What's the matter?"

Charles takes a slow, shuddering breath, swallows thickly, then tries again: "Pierre, I…" fuck, just say it, "I'm pregnant."

And there it is. He's exhausted just from saying it, the words now breathing with life between them: he can't repeat himself, can't elaborate, can only watch as his coworker, his friend, his Alpha registers what he's just said. This is the end, Charles knows. He'll have to schedule his office hours on another day, when he won't bump into Pierre passing through the narrow hallways of their building.

"You're…" Pierre's voice is a whisper, still smelling of concern but with something else that Charles is too distraught to pick out. He looks Charles up and down. "With…with my…?"

Charles can't speak. He just nods. I'm sorry, he wants to say, I'm sorry I let this happen, but nothing will come out.

There's a long beat of silence between them. Pierre just…stares.

He's so beautiful, is the thing: Charles knows their baby would be the most perfect baby to have ever been born, knows it would have his impossible blue eyes and big, toothy smile. It would be Charles' happiest dream—raising a family with Pierre, the perfect Alpha-Omega household.

He'll never have it, of course, but the fantasy of it plays out before his eyes all the same. Charles is sick with want. Hell, maybe it's just sickness from the baby. He's just…too hot in here, Pierre's hands too warm on his body, he needs this to be over. He needs Pierre to just walk away.

"Charles," Pierre says. His voice is still low, still hard to read. "Are you going to…" he swallows, and he looks nervous. "Are you going to…the baby, are you, ah."

Oh. "Keep it?" His voice finally returns. "I, um, I have not really thought about it." The truth. He hadn't thought about anything beyond this moment. "I—"

"You should," Pierre blurts, fingers digging into his arm. "I mean, if you—if you wanted to, I would." He swallows again, exaggerated.

It hits Charles, all of a sudden, what that unidentified scent is.

Love.

#HEY PLEASE COME OFF ANON BESTIE I NEED TO KNOW #piarles #10 x 16 #fic #romance prompt meme #ask reply #Anonymous

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anhed-nia · 7 months

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BLOGTOBER 10/10-11/2023: MAD LOVE (1935), BODY PARTS (1991)

I had always heard, casually, that Eric Red's BODY PARTS was a remake of Karl Freund's MAD LOVE. The relationship can't be quite that direct, since each film is adapted from a separate novel--MAD LOVE from Maurice Renard's The Hands of Orlac (1920), and BODY PARTS from a book with the English title Choice Cuts (1968) by crime-writing duo Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac. It just so happens that the two films deal with the notion that consciousness exists throughout the body, not only in the brain. This is a real idea, actually (Wayback doesn't get behind this paywall, but maybe you have something better), although I haven't heard anyone posit that personality exists throughout the body like it does in these exciting movies.

Simply one of the best appearances of a human being in a movie.

In MAD LOVE Colin Clive plays Stephen Orlac, a famous pianist who, after a devastating accident, receives a transplant of both hands from the disturbed Dr. Gogol (Peter Lorre). Orlac doesn't know that he now has the hands of a murderer, and they have retained their former habits. Gogol uses the ensuing drama to try to deprive the pianist of his beautiful wife Yvonne (Frances Drake), a Grand Guignol performer with whom the doctor is obsessed. Gogol seems to know that body parts can remain identified with their original owner, and perhaps this awareness feeds into his general attachment to appearances. His projected relationship with Yvonne is filtered through layers of simulation: He "knows" her from her stage role, and he lives with a wax figure of her in a self-conscious imitation of the myth of Galatea, the living statue. Perhaps what's inside doesn't count so much, when the personality is equally embedded in the outside.

In BODY PARTS, psychiatrist Bill Crushank (Jeff Fahey, don't ya just love him?) receives a new arm after a surviving a spectacular car wreck. The experimental procedure seems like a godsend until previous owner's violent nature begins to infect Crushank's behavior. To solve the mystery of what is happening to him, he seeks out the recipients of other limbs donated by the same crazed killer, including a vigorous young athlete named Mark (Peter Murnik) who needed new legs, and Remo (Brad Dourif), a hack painter who has experienced a burst of highly lucrative inspiration since he accepted his new arm. All of the men have been contaminated with the original donor's destructive rage, but Mark and Remo are less willing to part with their, er, parts. Here we have a whiff of the notion that the beast in man--the animal self that resists civilization--is connected to bodily power and pleasure, and also to subconscious, intuitive mental activities like the artistic impulse. Crushank, a psychiatrist who works with prisoners to help civilize them, is naturally less benefited by these bestial qualities.

The makeup in this movie is incredibly great, you can practically smell that arm.

BODY PARTS and MAD LOVE share the intriguing feature of a kind of decentralized evil. There is the evil of the original owner of the parts, and the evil that grows in their unwitting recipients, and the evil of the egomaniacal doctors who perform the operations for their own purposes. Villainy is sort of a free-floating essence that travels through bodily tissue but is never confined to a single, containable, even killable person. Instead it spreads like a virus through a person's life until both their inner feelings and their outer circumstances are entirely tainted. It's fortunate for the films' protagonists that consciousness is still corporeally dependent, despite how communicable it is, or else things could have been a lot worse!

PS Both of these movies deserve a lot more attention than I was able to give them during what I did not know would turn into a speed run season of Blogtober. I reserve the right to revisit them later! I didn't even get to talk about how BODY PARTS was co-written by Norman Snider who co-wrote DEAD RINGERS with David Cronenberg...

#blogtober #2023 #horror #body horror #body parts #eric red #mad love #karl freund #peter lorre #colin clive #jeff fahey #brad dourif #science fiction #adaptation

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls.

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods.

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires.

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past.

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him.

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places.

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease.

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone.

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely.

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-"

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue.

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you.

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?"

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium.

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back.

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..."

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy.

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

#are you feeling the angst yet #pierre gasly #pierre gasly X reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #f1 rpf #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfiction

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troubatrain · 3 years

Text

together by this christmas tree - p.l. dubois

a/n: happy december, so because The Maine’s Ho Ho Hopefully is a god tier Christmas song and I forgot how to write anything else heres like 5 words of just fluff. big shoutout to @prettyboybarzal for letting me just dump this fic on her for a few days so i could fuck around with the plot you are a queen!!

Pierre was in Los Angeles.

At any other time, he’d be pretty happy. The long West Coast road trip was one of Pierre’s favorites, he got to spend some time with his teammate’s, enjoy the warm weather, and play a few games that would hopefully end in a win. This time, however, he was sulking in his hotel room because he wished he was in Columbus. It was the first day of December, and Pierre knew that meant one thing - You were undoubtedly getting ready for the holiday season in whatever ways you knew how.

You stumbled into Pierre’s life by accident - literally. When Phillip was just a puppy, Pierre had taken him on a run. The French Bulldog pulled him with all his strength, causing you, who’d been looking at your phone to trip right over his leash. You assured Pierre it was fine, but while you were explaining to him that you had dogs growing up and sometimes shit happens your elbow had been bleeding before you could finish your sentence. Pierre offered to help you out, given his own apartment was barely a block away, and you’d been friends ever since. Friends. Just friends.

“Just tell her,” Tex says from the bed next to him, his road roommate having enough of watching Pierre sulk around their hotel room, “I’m tired of this.”

“Tired of what?” Pierre asks, his eyebrows raising.

“This, the thinking about Y/N all the time,” Tex exasperates dramatically, he sighs, putting on his best impersonation of his teammate, “Y/N’s watching the dogs while I’m away. Y/N and I are trying that new French restaurant downtown. Y/N’s favorite holiday is Christmas and I’m not decorating with her. Dude, you’re in love with her, just tell her. I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Pierre asks, finally admitting the real reason he’s yet to say anything. Pierre had been rejected a few times in his life, but he never let it get to him. That was because those people didn’t matter the way you did. You knew everything about him. You knew the way he took his coffee and the way he hated being woken up. You knew Pierre better than you knew yourself, and losing that was the first thing that’s ever really scared him.

“Well you won’t know if you don’t do something about it,” Tex sighs, frustrated with his two friends, “Or you’ve got to let her go.”

Tex walked out of their hotel room after he spoke, undoubtedly to get away from Pierre’s energy that was clouding the room. Pierre sighs, rolling over to the otherside of his bed and pulling up your contact. He did the math internally in his head for a moment, trying to figure out if you’d be asleep or not - smiling to himself when he realized you were probably still up.

“Shouldn’t you be at some fancy LA restaurant?” You chirp, smiling on the other side of the phone when you pick up the Facetime call. You were home, but Pierre could see two familiar figures snuggled together on her couch. You had become Pierre’s accidental dog sitter at the beginning of the season. He put finding one on the backburner, and when it came close to the start of the season, he was coming up empty. You offered three different times before Pierre finally came to his senses and said yes, not because he didn’t trust you, it was because if he had to watch his dogs love you as much as he does - he was never going to recover.

“Shouldn’t you be decorating for Christmas?” Pierre smirks, knowing exactly what the first day of December meant to his friend.

You loved Christmas, like in the type of way that made Pierre envious that anyone could be that happy from a holiday, and the first day of December was the day you went all out. A tree got put up in your apartment, a fake one because hauling a real one up to her place seemed like it would be too much, decorated elaborately in gold and white. You’d get dressed up in a set of Christmas pajamas, one’s that Pierre would scrunch his nose at but he secretly adored, and when he’d make fun of you for it - you’d just pout and call him a grinch.

“I thought I’d wait for you this year,” You mumble, hoping the lighting in your living room would hide the blush on your cheeks, “Speaking of Christmas…”

“I told you three times I don’t want anything,” Pierre reminds you, the argument sprung up twice a year, on Pierre’s birthday and the second the holiday season started. Pierre really had all he could want, his family and his friends were healthy, the team was doing well, and he could buy any material thing he wanted. His answer wasn’t a total lie, because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted besides you.

“You’re the worst,” You whine, throwing yourself back on the couch dramatically, Pierre watched Georgia spring up from next to you, the puppy dropping sloppy kisses all over your face. He thought about what Tex had rambled on about just before he called, that he had to just tell you, but you deserved it to be perfect. So he made a decision, he would tell you by Christmas and he’d spend every moment before that proving to you that he could be the man you deserved.

***

Pierre sighed, stepping back and looking at all of the pine needles that were scattered through his freshly washed BMW. He was going to have to get it cleaned, but the smile on your face would be worth it once he lugged that tree through your apartment building. It was part of his plan, one Tex had called stupid just three hours prior, but Pierre knew it wasn’t. You loved Christmas, and as much as you tried to never show it, you did always get a little bummed out that the tree in your apartment wasn’t real - something that not even the prettiest decorations could fix. So, Pierre decided he was going to fix it, and he was going to give you the best holiday you could ask for.

Pierre buzzed up to your apartment, the tree in his hands while he made his way up to your floor, holding up on his end of the promise he made to stop being a Grinch and help you decorate, “Special delivery.”

The snowman mug, undoubtedly filled with coffee and a tiny bit of sugar because that’s how you always drank it, slipping right out of your hands and onto the floor. The handle snapped off, but that seemed to take second place to the scene in front of you, “Is that-”

“A real tree? Uh yeah,” Pierre nods slowly, trying to not let the grin growing on his face show, “I know you say it’s not a big deal for your tree to be fake but-”

In all of the time you’d known Pierre, you were always his softer side. To the rest of the world, you almost seemed too sweet for the tattooed hockey player who wasn’t afraid to back down from a fight, but it wasn’t entirely true. Pierre had a softer side, one you’d seen shine through when he saw his mom or when a kid could stop him for an autograph, but they were never just random acts of kindness. You wrap your arms around his waist, taking a big sniff of the fresh pine scent that was sweeping through your apartment, “This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“This is the nicest thing I’ve ever done for someone,” Pierre jokes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Where are we putting this thing?”

Once you had the tree in the stand, it was time to get to work. The real reason you waited for Pierre wasn’t because his lack of holiday cheer was a crime, even though it was, it was because then you could hang up decorations using a ladder. Pierre was keeping the smile on his face, not because he was happy that he had a Santa hat hanging from his head or that he was untangling string lights for you while he wrapped them around the tree, but because you would show him every ornament you had with some sort of story as to why you bought it.

“Do you have a favorite ornament?” You ask, snapping a picture of Pierre’s confused face while he untangled the lights. He looked silly, the hat that you placed on his head was hanging off, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth while he tried to untangle the lights. He looked up at you, and you could see him thinking for a moment before he answered you.

“I do actually, I had this little Canadians skate that I used to steal off the tree to play with as a kid,” Pierre finally settled on, smiling to himself when he could practically see himself at seven trying to steal that ornament off the tree. His mother would scold him, and tell him there’s a million other things to play with but it just wasn’t that stupid plastic skate, “My mom used to get so mad at me for taking it but, I loved it.”

“So you didn’t always hate Christmas?” You tease, a giggle escaping through your lips.

“I don’t hate Christmas, I’m just not obsessed with it,” Pierre defends, “But maybe I liked it more when I was a kid.”

“Well be more like seven year old Luc, and get decorating,” You joke, tossing an ornament at him.

Three hours and two broken decorations later, the tree was propped up in the corner of your living room. It looked perfect, because there was nothing that could stop you from decorating that tree flawlessly, but Pierre was sincerely proud of himself for how much he’d actually helped. You were happy, standing in front of it with the gold star that went on top in your hand, “Well put it on.”

“Shouldn’t you do that?” Pierre asks before you shake your head no and try to hand him the topper. Pierre stays planted in his spot, knowing if he looked at you for just another minute you’d explain yourself.

“I’m too short to get up there and I don’t feel like getting out a ladder-” Pierre scoffed before you could finish your sentence, ducking down and hooking your legs over his shoulders without a second thought. You squeal, latching your hands on any part of him you could to stop yourself from losing your balance, “You could’ve just done it.”

“Hang up the star before I drop you,” Pierre teases, loosening his grip on your thighs like he was going to let you fall. Your laugh filled your apartment, and Pierre knew that had to be his favorite sound in the world. You place the star on top of the tree, Pierre stepping back so you could admire your work.

“Perfect?” You ask, your eyes scanning over the twinkling lights that seemed to just hang from the tree flawlessly. Pierre didn’t look at the tree before he answered, his eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah it’s perfect.”

***

The first snow in Columbus could not have come at a better time. Pierre had an afternoon game, and by the time he’d been out of the arena on his way back to his place, the snow was starting to just cover the ground. You had been at his place all afternoon, baking away pieces for a gingerbread house because you told Pierre buying one was unacceptable. You practically destroyed his kitchen, the counters covered in flour and pieces of gingerbread dough. You had Christmas music blasting over the speaker, lost in your own little world until you heard the door open.

“What happened in here?” Pierre asks, his suit jacket slipping off of his shoulders while he took in the sight in front of him. His kitchen was a mess, the dishes piled high in the sink while the entire place was flooded with the smell of gingerbread, “Did you rob a bakery?”

Pierre picked up the candy that was neatly placed in different cups on the counter. He looked at you with an amused smile on his face, “I didn’t come here to fuck around, and neither did you.”

With your words came a bright green apron for Pierre, he unrolled the fabric taking a deep breath and reminding himself that if he wanted you to know he cared about you, he was going to have to suck it up and build the damn house.

As it turns out, building the damn house was harder than Pierre thought. The cookie kept crumbling, the house kept sliding apart and Pierre couldn’t construct a roof to save his life. You, on the other hand, were working tireless at the most well constructed gingerbread house he’d ever seen. You were lost in your own little world, mouthing along to the Christmas music playing in the background. It would have been cute, and at any other time Pierre probably thought you were downright adorable, but not while another cookie broke in his hands.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Pierre growls, a pout on his face while he swiped the cookie crumbs from his hands.

You laugh at his disgruntled state, his back was hunched and his face was red. It was what he looked like after a bad game, except your friend who prided himself on acting like a tough guy was absolutely defeated by a simple gingerbread house. You drop the pastry bag that was in your hands, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” Pierre yells, stepping back in frustration, “It’s the house it won’t-”

“Luc, listen to yourself for a minute, it’s not the house’s fault,” You explain gently, you walk behind him and place both of your hands on each of his arms, “Try again and calm down.”

Pierre didn’t want to finish the house, but if your hands were on him he wasn’t going to tell you to take them off anytime soon. Your hands were wrapped around his arms lightly, your chin resting on his back while you peeked around his arm. He grabbed the bag and you rolled your eyes at how tense he was, “Do you hold hockey sticks that tightly, jeez.”

Pierre turns around, giving you a glare and raising his eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, trying your best to keep it together despite how hilarious you found his mood to be, “Quit making fun of me and help me.”

“Okay, okay,” You nod, running your arm along Pierre’s arm while you watched him try and squeeze the frosting out of the bag, “Slower Luc.”

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Pierre’s mind was racing, trying to drive his focus in the direction of the house, and not the fact that you were standing behind him. The air in the kitchen was thick, the same weird sexual tension that seemed to creep up when the two of you were alone for too long was back and stronger than ever. Your fingers ran along Pierre’s tattoos absentmindedly while you whispered simple directions that were turning Pierre’s brain to mush. He couldn’t think of anything else beside the fact that all he wanted was turn around and press his lips to yours, but he couldn’t just do that.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, while your logical side told you that you were simply telling Pierre how to build the silly little house and this shouldn’t feel so sexual - but it did. Pierre touched you all the time, a hand on your back while you guys were out, a kiss on the forehead whenever he hugged you and you never thought anything of it until you realized he didn’t do that with everyone. So you panicked, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that reminded you that you wanted him, and pretending like it never happened. That wasn’t easy, and every minute you spent with Pierre you could feel yourself falling into him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

The moment was ruined by the sound of a cookie sheet hitting the floor, and the sound of a scared puppy’s feet running away in fear. You both jumped, your hands flying off of Pierre when the realization that you were doing it again washed over you. You were letting yourself pretend like this could lead somewhere and that one day Pierre would choose you and it would all work itself out. Except that was just hope and hope wasn’t going to stop your heart from getting broken.

“You should shower, I’ll start cleaning,” You offer, moving around the kitchen to clean so you could hide the blush on your cheeks.

And a cold shower was probably what Pierre needed.

***

This wasn’t part of my Christmas activities.

You were whining while Pierre drove down to the arena, the Blue Jackets family skate was that afternoon and he insisted you went. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but you couldn’t stop yourself from reading into things. He’d never brought you to the skate before, so why now?

“Isn’t this on that silly list of Christmas activities?” Pierre reminds you, tapping your leg lightly with his free hand, “Or do you just not know how to skate or something?”

“Well…” You start, Pierre’s eyebrows raising while he focused on the road ahead of you, “I don’t-”

“You eat Christmas cheer for the entire month of December but you don’t know how to ice skate? When were you going to tell me?” Pierre teases, chuckling while he shook his head at you.

“It never came up!” You defend, crossing your arms at him for teasing you, “And I didn’t tell you for this exact reason.”

Pierre made fun of you for the rest of the ride, teasing you that you should skate with his teammate’s kids who were practically toddlers and were probably better than you were. You walked into the arena behind Pierre, immediately smiling at the familiar faces of his teammates and their families. You made your way to his stall, Pierre telling you to sit he could get your skates laced up. You bit your lip, watching his hands work at the laces as delicately as he could. You were sure he was rougher with his own, but Pierre’s touch was always light as a feather with you.

“Too tight?” Pierre asks, breaking out of your trance from his too big veiny hands.

“No it’s fine,” You squeak out, and you could hear Tex snickering to himself next to you.

Pierre wasn’t a bad teacher for someone who almost tossed a gingerbread house across his apartment just a week prior. He was slow, his fingers laced with yours while he pulled you along and tried to help you skate on your own. It was a failure, and you looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, but Pierre refused to believe you couldn’t get better.

“You guys disgust me,” Tex chirps, hopping onto the bench next to you while you watch Pierre play tag with Savvy’s kids. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, “You’re both so disgustingly in love with each other why won’t you just admit it?”

“Because Pierre’s going to find someone else who won’t be me,” You sigh, picking at your nails. You told Tex this once before, when you were wine drunk and sad about the date Pierre was on, “He’s just my friend.”

Tex wanted to scream, lock you both into a room and force you to talk about your feelings. He wasn’t going to do that, because he didn’t want to be the demise of what he thought might actually be something, but god did he want to. You both were frustrating the hell out of him, and if Pierre didn’t nut up soon he was going to take matters into his own hands by New Years.

“You don’t know that, if you told him-” Tex tries his hardest to reason with you, make you see that it’s worth the jump because Pierre was on the other side waiting for you.

“So he can flat out reject me and never speak to me again? Really I’m good,” You huff out, swinging your leg over the boards to get back onto the ice. You were doing okay, until you started to push yourself forward. Two steps later, you were on your way to face plant into the ice until you felt two arms wrap around your waist.

“Easy there,” Pierre laughs, stopping you just before you fell, “You’re not an expert now.”

“You’re such a bully,” You tease, avoiding Tex’s gaze when Pierre intertwined your fingers to pull you across the ice. Tex watched you both, the shared laughs and longing stares were just proof to him that if people did have one person for them, you were it for each other.

Only if you could get it through your heads.

***

The Savard’s threw a bigger Christmas party than you’d ever seen before in your life. You loved David and his wife, given Pierre introduced you to them as his adoptive parents the first time you ever came over for dinner with him. It was your favorite version of Pierre, the one who let David’s kids paint his nails and color the black and white ink on his arms. You walked up the well decorated driveway, your heels clicking against the pavement while you made your way inside.

“You need to go see your boy in the kitchen,” You hear Seth call over to you, grabbing your attention as soon as you walk into the house. You wave hello first, making your way into the kitchen to see a sight that you were most definitely not expecting.

Pierre was sitting on a candy cane throne, a big Santa hat on his head and equally as red suit to match. He had one of Nick’s kids on his lap, listening to the little boy about the train set he’d been writing to Santa about since Thanksgiving. Your heart grew about four sizes at the sight, you walked over and tapped Pierre on the shoulder, “Can I borrow Santa for a minute?”

“Are you Mrs. Claus?” The question was a simple one, and the two big brown eyes that were looking up at you were the only thing that didn’t stop you from saying yes.

“Mrs. Claus huh?” Pierre teases, pulling you onto his lap while you watched Nick’s son make his way back to his mother.

“I wasn’t about to ruin his Christmas,” You shook your head, running a hand over the white fur on the jacket Pierre was wearing, “How’d you get sucked into this?”

“I was going to say no, but then I knew you’d at least laugh at me,” Pierre admits, a blush creeping up his neck. His hands were wrapped securely around your waist like for a moment he could just pretend like he had you, “Wanna tell the big guy what you want for you Christmas.”

“Hmm, nothing,” You settle on, “And you won’t know until you finally tell me what you want.”

The sound of cheers flooded the kitchen, and when you went to look at what all of the ruckus was about you realized that you were the ruckus. Seth had a shit eating grin on his face while he held the mistletoe above your heads. You knew you were flush, the heat on your cheeks made it clear while Pierre looked like he was a pale as a ghost. He planted a kiss on your cheek, telling Seth to fuck off before you pushed yourself off of him, muttering an excuse about needed to use the bathroom.

You had your palms against the sink while you tried to catch your own breath. This was the reason you never made a move, because you knew it wouldn’t end in some sort of heartbreak. It was clear Pierre didn’t want to kiss you, and that was enough for you to let him go forever. You wiped the tears that were welling up in your eyes, deciding that when you walked out that door Pierre was your friend and your friend only.

“Where are you going?” Pierre caught your arm when you tried to leave the party, the idea of going home for a good cry was far better than a rowdy holiday party. He looked insane, his eyes wild while he panted to catch his breath after he searched the house in a panic for you.

“Home, I’m just not feeling well-” You come up with an excuse fast, hoping the quicker you spoke the quicker you could get out of there.

“Is this about Seth? I’ll kick the shit out of him,” Pierre promises, latching onto anything that would fix your mood.

Your feelings were something Pierre was an expert at, probably because he never seemed to take his eyes off of you. He knew when you were upset just from your body language alone and you were definitely not happy. Was it from Seth trying to force the idea that you should be together or was it that he didn’t kiss you? It had to be the first, because if it was the latter then Pierre fucked up his entire plan to make you see that he loved you.

“No it’s fine, really I just think I should go,” You were begging Pierre not to fight you on this, so he wasn’t going but he was going to be damned if he let you slip through his fingers.

“Stay, Tex and I were about to sing Christmas karaoke,” Pierre offers, dragging out his words, “I’ll let you pick the song.”

Pierre and Tex ended up serenading you with the worst rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You you’d ever heard. Their dance moves were a crime, and they were definitely the two most tone deaf people you have ever met, but their heart was in the right place. The mistletoe incident was forgotten for the moment, your attention directed at the silly drinking games you were playing with your friends. You sat on the kitchen counter in the Savard’s home, your head leaning on Pierre’s shoulder after you’d taken your fourth shot in the span of an hour. A hangover was definitely on the horizon, but for the time it wasn’t going to kill your buzz.

“I hate when you do that you know?” You poke Pierre’s side, grabbing his attention from the crowd of people in the kitchen.

“Do what?” Pierre asks, a bold hand landing on your thigh.

“Make everything better somehow, it’s pretty fucking annoying Luc,” You tease, taking a look at his face for a moment. Pierre smiled before he answered you, the kind where his teeth would show and you could see his little vampire teeth you loved so much.

“I’ll always make it better Y/N.”

***

You’re coming over right?

Pierre sighs at your question, your voice flooding the speaker in his car while he drove home from his game. It was December 23rd, and he wanted to sneak in a nap before his middle of the night flight to Montreal to see his parents for Christmas. He’d just finished an afternoon game, one where the team lost and Torts lost his mind on them before he shipped them off to Christmas break tired and angry, but he wasn’t going to miss out on seeing you before Christmas. He made a promise to himself he’d tell, come clean once he felt like you knew he loved you. Maybe you did, and if you didn’t you were in for one hell of a surprise.

Pierre took a quick right in the direction of your place, deciding you couldn’t wait any longer. His brain was switched to autopilot and when he opened your apartment door with the key you gave him forever ago, he realized what this was. You were sitting on the couch, a gift box in your hand that was undoubtedly for him and it hit Pierre like a freight train.

He didn’t get you anything.

Pierre could’ve punched himself, calling out every name in the book because he was an idiot. He spent so much time focusing on spending time with you, and going along with all of your silly little Christmas things that he didn’t even realize he forgot to get you a gift at all. Pierre just knew whatever was in that bag was thoughtful and perfect, and he was walking in empty handed.

“Open it!” You exclaim, your excitement couldn’t be contained. Honestly, you were surprised you made it this far without spilling the beans about the gift.

You hand Pierre the box, and he opens it slowly, pulling the top of the box off and gasping at what was inside. The skate ornament was the same as the one he mentioned when you were decorating your tree, the blue and red Canadians logo faded a bit, “Is this…?”

“I called your mom and asked her for it,” You admit sheepishly, a little embarrassed to admit just how often you did talk to Pierre’s parents. He didn’t call often, mostly because he simply would forget, so his mother would start just calling you instead, “I know it’s silly but I thought maybe it’d remind you that the holidays aren’t all bad-”

“I love it, it’s perfect,” Pierre whispers, letting the ornament dangle from his large hand, “I fucked up, I uh, shit, I forgot to get you something.”

You laugh, practically falling to the floor while the giggles take over your body, “Luc, you sucked it up all month for me that’s enough.”

“It’s not, I did all of this so you’d know that I loved you and when I told you it would make sense,” Pierre starts to ramble, pacing around your apartment, “And I couldn’t even be bothered to remember to get you a damn gift.”

“You love me?” You repeat, just to make sure you’d gotten clear what’s been up with him since the start of the month. You felt the shift, the extra acts of kindness that just weren’t normal for him, but you knew if you read into it you might end up disappointed.

“I’m hopelessly in love with you, like one of those romantic Christmas movies you love so much,” Pierre admits, looking at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. You stood in front of him, dumbfounded that your best friend just told you he loved you, “Please say something.”

“Do you know what I want for Christmas?” You ask, taking a bold step forward and wrapping your arms around Pierre’s neck, “This year I want you alone.”

Pierre closed the gap between the two of you, and it felt like the entire world had stopped. The bustling city outside didn’t matter, Pierre’s flight in a few hours didn’t matter, and the brutal loss he’d taken hours later was on the backburner. Right now, Pierre’s hands were wrapped around your waist while your lips were pressed against his and he would have rather died than let go of you in that moment.

“So I don’t have to get you a gift right?”

“No you still do, but you can kiss me again first.”

#pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

359 notes · View notes

mistaeq · 3 years

Text

stardust crusaders: with a s/o who does ballet

tw // none

contains: kujo jotaro, joseph joestar, kakyoin noriaki, muhammad avdol, jean pierre polnareff with a s/o who does ballet + nutcracker references. neutral!reader.

dora's note: this was a request from a sweet anon... i unwillingly posted it when it was unfinished and i lost the original ask because i had to delete it. if you're seeing this, i hope you enjoy it~🤍

word count: 1.9k

kujo jotaro

↳ he didn't really want to have anything to do with this ballet thing at first, but when he noticed how passionate you were about it and how much dancing meant for you, he understood it was no joke.

↳ you'd never imagine jotaro watching ballet, but he ended up gladly coming to see every performance of yours.

↳ after all, he's secretly so glad that your passion isn't something tiring for him or too loud. relaxing in front of a good performance of yours is way better for him than go traveling somewhere or even get into dance clubs.

↳ he's obviously heard of the nutcracker before, so when he hears from you that you'll have to perform in it, jotaro's gonna look up for it and make some research to be more informed about it.

↳ jotaro will never say it out loud, but all the efforts you put into ballet and into rehearsals scare him. he'd rather see you more relaxed and doesn't really know how to deal with it.

↳ he's not good at taking care of his own tiredness, go figure someone else's. but he'll definitely do his best. don't expect too many displays of affection, but he will.

↳ "i can move the sofa out of the way if you wanna have a quick rehearsal in the living room."

↳ while you do rehearse for the nutcracker, he'd spy on you from behind the book he's reading on the couch. don't ever tell him you notice that.

↳ the consequence of this, is that you'll probably find yourself in star platinum's arms as soon as you seem to be losing your balance. the man wouldn't let you fall so easily, he definitely keeps an eye on you.

↳ the man is used to you stretching your muscles almost everywhere around the house. he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up to you trying the splits even in your sleep. jotaro used to look at you as if you were alien at first, but now his mind accepted the fact that ballet dancers do be just flexible.

↳ jotaro is glad you have such a passion, so that during festivities like christmas or for your birthday, he knows ballet accessories will be appreciated. easy gift! but don't tell anyone.

joseph joestar

↳ oh gosh, joseph is such a supportive man. he's not a ballet kind of man, but it all becomes meaningless when it comes to supporting you. the man is gonna love ballet if it's you on the stage!

↳ definitely wants to try it too. he's kinda funny when he tries to dance with you, but you can tell he's doing his best.

↳ would you like to be spoilt? i hope so, because joseph is gonna use his huge amount of money to buy you unexpected gifts in the form of new ballet clothing, accessories and special pointe shoes with your name on them.

↳ when he gets to know you had a role in the nutcracker, he's on cloud nine and incredibly proud of you. he also specifies that his alarm clock's ringtone is one of the pieces from the nutcracker. oof.

↳ he's the kind of man who would help stretching your muscles or train with you. while you dance on the soothing music, he's gonna do push-ups or something for his muscles. on the soothing music.

↳ feeling responsible for a role in a piece like the nutcracker can easily be stressful. if you happen to have any breakdown, with joseph you won't be alone. he knows how to deal with you.

↳ but he also knows you don't like to rely on someone, above all on him, to be comforted. joseph always helps you and you don't want him to be overwhelmed. but he'll pull you closer using his hermit purple.

↳ "remember to dance and feel for yourself. not just to please whoever's gonna look at you."

↳ after you told him it's recommended to hit pointe shoes on the wall or scratch their bottom part, he'll always want to do that for you.

↳ he probably learns to reevaluate ballet thanks to you, your passion and the way you involve him in what you enjoy doing. if you're happy like that, then joseph is happy too, and he'll never stop reminding you that. he hasn't lost a single performance of yours.

↳ a downside (or perk) of having joseph as your main supporter is that he'll always make himself recognizable as the one who screams during your performances. what a man.

kakyoin noriaki

↳ probably differently from what you think, he won't even care about ballet. not because he doesn't care about what you like, just because he thinks he shouldn't try to say anything about it since he's a gamer.

↳ but that's only until you show him the emerald accessories you bought to match hierophant green's aesthetic. then, he's amazed.

↳ hierophant green is even more amazed than kakyoin himself, it won't stop nuzzling against you because he's grateful about the fact that you bought it for him purposely. the stand is deeply affectionate to you.

↳ get ready for a lot of questions coming from your cherry boy. noriaki is new to this world, and realized what stands behind ballet is much more tiring and stressful than anything that stands behind videogames, somehow.

↳ he gets scared when you mention the nutcracker. luckily, you immediately explain it's just the title of a ballet representation in which you had a role. phew. he thought you were gonna dance on nuts to crack them.

↳ kakyoin gets easily concerned when you stretch next to him. he lives in the constant fear and panic that you will suddenly break a leg or get bad muscle pain.

↳ he can't understand the struggles of doing ballet, but will probably look for anything to help on the internet. he got traumatized by pointe shoes. someone save this man's soul, please.

↳ "ballet scares me... but listen, do you have any performances planned, by chance? i wanna see..."

↳ probably brought jotaro with him to watch your performance in order to show you off to someone. he's a proud boyfriend.

↳ noriaki is the kind of boyfriend who would bring a professional camera to your performances in order to get some videos of you dancing recorded. he definitely watches them when he's alone in his room, and asks himself how can he have such a talented s/o.

↳ he set up some led lights in a room, for you to be able to create the correct atmosphere when you feel like rehearsing. there are many colors. the coolest thing he's ever bought for you.

muhammad avdol

↳ even if he's your boyfriend, he does behave like a dad. as soon as he gets to know you're into ballet, he'll turn into a proud parent. avdol's got no time to concern, he'll just be really happy for you have a passion like that.

↳ he'd read tarot cards for you everytime before a performance, and they always turn out positive. if they don't, he'll just tell you to be really careful.

↳ muhammad's always chill around you while you rehearse and tries not to look at you too much or interact too many times in order to not to distract you, but deep down, he's your number one fan and would look at you for hours.

↳ he tells everyone, when you get chosen to play a role in the nutcracker. it's something that gets often performed, but it's also so known that he takes it as if you were about to become a hollywood star.

↳ if you need someone's shoulder to cry on, he'll be the first one to embrace you. ballet isn't easy, and as much as he cherishes your passion, he'll always check on how you feel about it.

↳ last time he got too excited about your stage clothing, magician's red risked burning a pointe shoe of yours. luckily, avdol managed to handle it. he scolded his stand afterwards, but you petted it instead.

↳ no avdol, you can't get closer to the stage to take photos. you can take them from your seat. he's just like elementary school moms who want to take quality pictures of their children.

↳ "i know, falling during a performance feels horrible... come here, let me get you some ice..."

↳ he's the ceo of do-not-overwork-yourself and of if-you-feel-tired-please-stop. avdol will spoil you with cuddles after every rehearsal.

↳ if he notices you keep on comparing yourself to your fellow dancers, he'll make sure he makes you understand you're worth it just the way you are, and that you don't need to be like someone else to be talented. you'll always be his favourite either way, so you don't have to worry at all.

↳ you've let him decorate some accessories with patterns which are typical of his culture. your ballet teacher allowed you to dance in them. you couldn't be happier than that.

jean pierre polnareff

↳ have you said ballet? he loves ballet, those graceful way of dancing, the classical music, the whole atmosphere's just perfect for him, might it be because of the romantic part of his frenchness, but he's gonna cherish your passion.

↳ he's gonna dance with you. jean doesn't know how to do it, of course. but will still do that. he just enjoys it. just let him.

↳ the man treats you to special meals after rehearsals, or maybe some bubble tea, warm chocolate, or anything he has at home that he can serve you as a treat. dancing is important, but having a full stomach matters more.

↳ as soon as you come out of your latest lesson and tell him you've been chosen to have a role in the nutcracker, he'd immediately pick you up and pepper you with kisses and reminders of how proud of you he is.

↳ he'd jokingly behave like a dance teacher, keeping your timings in check. nothing serious, of course, if you told him you feel like taking a pause, he'd stop and get you a glass of fresh water.

↳ the two of you just have a lot of fun like that. you allow yourself to combine successfully some quality time with the man you love and your passion for ballet.

↳ "you're doing so well, listen to your man, you're gonna shine, babe, like the sun! trés bien!"

↳ you two once had to interrupt a rehearsal without finishing it properly, because he had said your pointe shoes looked just like his hair and you couldn't hold back the laughter.

↳ polnareff's the kind of boyfriend who doesn't want to be in the audience during performances of yours, he has a special place in your dressing room and is allowed to come in and be your emotional support. nobody's gonna keep him from being there for you!

↳ most of the time, he uses silver chariot - carefully - to move people out of the way in order to get to you. this obviously confuses non stand users, but that doesn't matter to him, as far as he can get to you.

↳ he brings food with him, when he comes to see your performances, so that he can feed you after it ends. as i said before, dancing is important, but for jean, eating is essential!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #kujo jotaro #jotaro x reader #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin x reader #joseph joestar #joseph x reader #muhammad avdol #avdol x reader #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #jjba headcanons #sweet anon

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word-ghost · 3 years

Text

so a while back I wrote a depressing lil prologue about my farmer, Peach. Now, thanks to all the awesome people at the grapefruit sky server on discord, I have a depressing lil prologue for Harvey too 😌

late spring, year negative five

Harvey slumped forward over the planner on his desk. The next seven days stared back at him, empty other than their number in the upper right corner. The month was near the end of its climb. Soon it would tumble into the next, and it would be a year since Harvey had left his life behind.

He straightened to match the wooden back of his chair, pushing away from the desk and glancing at the drawer to the bottom right. He reached down to pull it open. The drawer shuddered on its wooden slide, the left edge scraping against its ill-fitting frame. It was still there.

When Harvey first arrived to assume the life of his aged predecessor, Pierre had gifted him a bottle of scotch to celebrate their going into business together. What he’d meant was that Harvey would be writing a rent check in Pierre’s name every month for— forever. Harvey weighed the word against his experiences over the past months.

One of his more regular patients despised him. He was lucky if half of the rest showed up on time for their appointments; if they bothered to come at all. A quarter of those who kept their appointments didn’t take him seriously.

Harvey’s hand dipped into the drawer and carefully lifted the amber-filled glass. He didn’t know much about whisky, but after a brief examination of the label, he knew this bottle was nothing special. He removed the stopper and sniffed it like he might a wine cork. A smoky-sweet scent followed the sharp sting of alcohol. Harvey checked that the closest coffee cup on the desk was empty before he poured himself what he thought to be the standard amount.

Harvey was thankful no one was around to see him flinch at the taste. His college friends had always teased him, the one who brought his own bottle of wine to parties rather than go for the keg or the cooler of punch. They had fallen out of touch after he moved, but it was his failure as much as theirs.

With the smooth burn of courage still sliding down his throat he picked up the phone. He dialed the first number to come to mind. He waited for five rings before he heard his friend’s voice, and then it was only a recorded name.

“‘Benny Lawrence’ is not available. At the tone, please record your message—”

Harvey used a finger to depress the switch, and when he lifted it the dial tone blared in his ear once again. He dialed, wedging the phone to his ear with his shoulder. He swallowed another mouthful before the third ring.

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now. How the hell have you been, man?” Dan’s voice was a near shout over a backdrop of car horns and fragmented voices.

“When was the last time we talked?” Harvey chuckled, mild excitement beginning to bubble over.

“Damn, I don’t know. About a year?”

“Ah. Things aren’t much different than then. But I’m not complaining.” He wasn’t sure why he’d added the last bit. Maybe even now the things he liked about Pelican Town still outweighed the things he didn’t. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “How about you? Still enjoying city life?”

“I have more time to enjoy it these days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Better gig, better hours. I’m in pediatrics now at— oh, damn. Harv, I gotta run if I’m gonna catch my train. Talk soon, okay?”

“Oh— yeah. Soon.” Harvey tried not to sound disappointed. The momentary joy he felt hearing his friend’s voice drained away. He hung up the phone and downed his drink, its burn suffusing in his chest as he poured another.

He picked up the handset once again, fingers putting in the numbers without asking permission. On the second ring, he thought better of his actions. But before Harvey could hang up, she answered.

Hearing her voice after all these months was like rediscovering a song to which he’d forgotten the words. Whatever version of it he’d stored away in his memory paled in comparison.

“Hello?” She repeated.

“H- hi, Violet.” Harvey swallowed. “It’s— it’s been a while.”

“Harvey?” She gasped. “Why are you calling me?

“We haven’t talked since—” he faltered; the absurdity of what he was doing finally struck him. “I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing—”

“I’m—” she started, but a voice interrupted; muffled, but familiar.

“Who is it, Vi?”

A hand shuffled over the microphone, not entirely cutting out their conversation on the other end. Harvey closed his eyes, making out some words over his pulse pounding in his ears.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know—”

“Hang up.”

“He sounds—” There was more shuffling, and the voices were stifled.

“Harvey?” Violet said a moment later.

“I’m still here,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Is— is everything alright?”

“You’re still seeing John?”

“Yes.” She paused. He could practically hear her prickle over the wire from some hundred miles away. “We— we got married.”

“Congratulations,” Harvey said after a moment of shock, unable to control the bitter edge to his voice. He leaned his elbows on the desk and scraped his free hand through his hair.

“I thought you would have heard by now.”

“How could I have? I was— I’ve been—”

“I know.” Her honeyed voice dripped with guilt. “I’m— I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“From you?” The whisky's warmth set his latent anger ablaze. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Don’t call here again.”

With a quiet click, the line went dead. The phone’s bell let out a fearful chirp as Harvey slammed the handset on its cradle. He gripped a handful of his hair, a knot forming in his throat. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock. But his head pounded and his stomach churned.

There was no reason Violet ever should have set her amber eyes on Harvey. He didn’t have the best grades, and he was never the most attractive person in the room. But she’d approached him at a college party, tapped her plastic cup of wine to his, and introduced herself.

From that moment their lives began to slowly merge. Her friends liked him well enough, and his buddies loved her. Their life goals were aligned. Their families got along— every splintered side of them. The years wore on, and the only problem in their relationship was him. Harvey’s eighty-hour workweeks wore him ragged. The patients he couldn’t help weighed on his conscience. And the stress of trying to achieve the dreams they had for their future caught up with him and broke him down.

Harvey couldn’t complete his internship, and Violet couldn’t accept it. Even after he sought help, and worked to improve his mental state, she wouldn’t understand why his plans had to change. Harvey believed they loved each other enough to survive anything. Violet believed she deserved to be a surgeon’s wife. Now she had everything she wanted, and she hadn’t needed him to get it.

Harvey’s thoughts swirled and clouded into a murky mess. He didn’t hear footsteps in the waiting room or the swish of the swinging door in the hall outside his office. He didn’t know anyone was there until—

“Dr. Palmer?”

Harvey whirled around. Maru stood in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Get out.” He glared at her through the tears in his eyes. His own tone gave him pause and he softened. “I’m sorry, but— please. Go.” He turned away from Maru, who hovered in the doorway, indecisive.

“What’s the matter, Harvey?” There was a softness in her voice he hadn’t heard before. Of course, he’d kept her at the same distance as anyone else.

“Please.” He leaned his elbows on his desk. His chest tightened around the breath in his lungs. “I can’t— I can’t be like this.”

What must he look like to her? No one in this town needed another reason to think him inadequate. Incapable. A small, choked sob escaped his throat and he hid his face in his hands, catching his tears before they could fall. His glasses clattered to the desk.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, lingering there until his breaths came at a more even pace. Then, it moved to put the lid back on the bottle, and the bottle back in the drawer. It retrieved his glasses, wiped them clean, and placed them in his hands. Harvey swallowed the bitter remnants of his pride, put on his glasses, and thanked her.

“Are you okay?” Maru said, emanating patience he didn’t deserve after snapping at her.

“She— after everything.” More tears fell with the bitter laugh that left him. “Six years.”

A few versions of the story had already circled the rumor mill since he’d been around. Harvey was glad someone would finally hear his side of it. It all spilled out, and Maru listened. For a moment he felt a sliver of the warmth he had missed since he moved to the valley. The warmth he felt hearing his friend’s voice over the phone, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Violet’s too.

#creativewriting #creative writing #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #stardew valley #stardew #stardew valley fanfic #stardew fanfic #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #stardew maru #sdv maru #sad harvey #angst #cw alcohol #got u these feelings

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bsaka7 · 2 years

Note

Oh Boy dirtbag!Daniel. Say more.

thank u!!!! okay i almost don't WANT to say more bc this is actually a fic i want to write but who knows if/when i'll find the time. doing this as procrastinating this paper i should work on. anyway. talked about with milo as always. under the cut because this is filthy in theory

one - max/daniel, monaco, 2018-ish

like i said, max is too young for it to really be good for either of them. i think this thing with max also goes on for maybe the longest daniel has done it with anyone. it's not exclusive, for daniel, obviously, and he thinks max is kind of pathetic because whenever he knocks, max answers. but i think at the same time. he does like max, genuinely, off the track and as a teammate but this - this lets him think he's better than max even when he's outqualified. and on some level daniel is pathetically grateful though he'd never admit it because he sort of thinks he'll never drive max away either. this i think is okay for daniel and max - daniel is it for max, whether or not either of them know it. and i don't think max realizes quite how much he's being strung along and how much better it could be. daniel gets off on the attention, the way max is so responsive, but like i said before. he also thinks max is somehow beneath him for it. daniel chooses pleasure. max - he's something else entirely. obviously they're both focused on racing but max only has racing and this.

two - daniel/charles, las vegas, 2019

in some way i think this is the heart of the fic. daniel has fun with charles because charles is fun. out of anyone here, this is undoubtebly the best sex. but charles scares daniel a little bit. charles has bite in him. he's smart and he wants to be liked and he wants to be good and he gets what he wants. charles could probably eat daniel from the inside out if he wanted to. charles sees through whatever games daniel wants to play.

interlude one - daniel/pierre, unknown, 2019

this is a parallel to max it’s a parallel to charles. short section. shows what daniel does with regret but also when he really doesn’t care about the person at all in any context.

three - daniel/lando, london, 2021

this is obviously about performance and control, in a very explicit way. he is losing to lando. he can beat lando in sex - he can get something out of it that lando doesn't and he can make it so lando will keep crawling into his bed. daniel doesn't care about how lando is doing, about how much lando likes it, he just likes having power over him. fuck him dump him make him beg fuck someone else make fuck lando fuck a stranger and call him through it and daniel doesn't pay attention. as milo said, it's not malicious, it's uncaring about lando as a person, and it's a power trip. he's pushing lando's limits off the track, and it's always a question of what will happen. on track. i think daniel thinks lando cares about him more than he does but this is daniel's pov so. yeah. and it's not like it's not good for him, most of the time, too.

interlude two - daniel/jenson, london, undated

daniel is a dirtbag daniel is easy daniel is assertive but mostly he likes sex. i think the implication here is that it's while jenson is still racing. daniel is young. jenson is nice to him. daniel's teeth are out. this is very short, as a contrast, maybe.

four - daniel/max, undecided, 2021

even at this point, daniel is the only one on the grid that max has fucked around with. i think this is like. the clarity of the fic. like. daniel’s actions are very much tied to daniel’s sort of cycle of self-sabotage, of reframe, of try again. i don’t think he’d recognize it as the need it is - as sex as the catalyst between feeling bad to feeling good to feeling bad again. sex with his teammates, with his competitors, after a bad race, that’s better than anything. i think this is. almost a reversal. max goes to daniel, this time. i think max goes into it knowing what to expect. he thinks daniel will say yes (re: daniel is easy). i think maybe - they haven’t hooked up in years. max said no. daniel said it was over. max thought it was over. but maybe it’s not over. maybe it’ll be better if - if max gets what he wants. i think like this is partially him looking for outlets outside of racing. something to get him out of his head - because like. before. with daniel. it was better, sometimes. and i think like. daniel likes it more than he expected - being the choice when he didn’t think he would be again, even if again. still has a haughty arrogance. but it’s also a wash of shame because like. max is winning. is this the other way around?? is max playing games? i don’t know. this is the least clear section because it comes to some sort of crecendo.

#sorry its daniel max its always daniel max #ask #sorry i didnt write much about the actual sex here thats uhhh for the fic if u actually read it #or if i actually write it #this is like. how i talk to people about fic though i suppose #idk. maybe this is interesting maybe it is not #today literally has been extremely long great to sit around and answer this

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maxverstepponme · 2 years

Note

Wtf with this people? Also what do you mean with your answer anon? You actually don't believe Checo can fight for a WC?!!!! I hope I got it wrong. /// sorry but I have to agree with that anon. I love Checo, heMs a good driver & seems like a lovely guy. But he is nowhere near Max’s level. That is not dissing him. It’s no different to people who said Bottas would never win a championship against Lewis & Barrichello against Schumacher. It’s just facts - it’s the same for lost of drivers on the grid

<<<<<</////////>>>>>>>>

I'm a Mercedes fan, Hamilton all the way for me (not sure about George yet lol) and answering something like this is super weird to me but I have seen so much hate and distrust around Perez lately that is getting annoying.

So on my opinion you all are talking way to soon, the man just got the opportunity he wasn't aloud to get on over 10 years, he didn't get it before not because he's a bad driver (but that's not the point today), last year was his first year on a car completely design for someone else's, it wasn't easy or quick to manage but he did his part an deliver plus I think you all don't get the difference between been a teammate and just been the second driver which I get because it's weird on F1 to actually get that teammate dynamic but Checo last year was an amazing teammate he's a man that knows how to work on a team and surprisingly to me, Max does to (to an extent), plus he (Checo) didn't have anything to lose at the end of the season so that made everything easier for him; but this year the story is different, he has a car a little more adapted to him, he's also more adapted to the team, they both (Max already said this) can battle each other this year, and he wants to fight, he's ready to take this opportunity, so maybe he can actually be one of those fighting for championship this year, you all can't just dismissed him.

This all goes not just for Pierre fans or crazy Merc fans (I love Merc but I'm not blind) this all goes also for Max fans, RedBull fans, you all so sure about Max been so quick anyone can't fight him than you might forget Perez is not playing games either.

We Merc fans kinda forget about it last year on Ham but you and me all saw how he(Checo) can be uncomfortable with the car, not doing amazing, getting the bad treatment and still be a pain in the ass to a 7th time world champion.

Also and this is just MY opinion but Sergio Perez is better wheel to wheel driver than Max Verstappen. I know that. My team knows this. How cleanly Sergio had battle with Lewis throughout the season without any incident is amazing. Just superb, It will be very nice to give him updates on car.

Wasn't a fan at Abu Dhabi but that's other story.

Plus more importantly we can't say Perez is too slow to match Max or other drivers until we get him on the same car and conditions as everyone (which might happen this year if RedBull don't do him shitty) until then, we can get an actual opinion on it.

So yeah....also I'm aware about Bottas treatment don't come at me....and this is just because all the hate he's getting, ofc on my part I will always support Lewis and Mercedes, we're ON to our 8th WC.

💙💙

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stardew-saloon · 4 years

Note

Maybe bachelors and bachelorettes with a farmer with flu(? (๑•﹏•)

Ooh I like this one uwu

Bachelorettes + Sick Farmer

Abigail:

Chances are, if you’re sick, so is she! Abigail tries to cheer you up in any way whenever either of you gets sick. She knows you can’t go out anywhere, so she tries to go out and do the farm work for you or buy seeds. Luckily, Pierre knows your order, so he tries to help out, telling Abby how to plant everything and how much water to give each one. It goes in one ear and out the other, so when you return, your farm has an.. interesting new look, plant wise.

Emily:

She turns into a mom whenever you’re sick. She cooks everything and frets over you for as long as you’re sick for. Even then, for the next two weeks, she’s still worried. Emily has good intentions though, so you don’t mind too much. She isn’t the best at work around the farm, so she takes care of the animals! She calls Shane for the chickens, though.

Haley:

Haley isn’t the type to do work around the farm without much reason (unless you ask nicely, I guess) but she steps up the most out of any bachelorette. She does all the work for you, ruining at least three of her outfits. She even takes care of the animals! You’re so impressed that you feel like you should be papering her now, despite being a sniffling mess.

Leah:

Leah is a sweetheart whenever you’re sick. She makes food for you, picking the best things she can find for different salads and meals for the two of you. She does her best to take care of the animals. She does ask Marnie how to do it properly, though. Leah doesn’t want you to have to worry about anything, that’s all.

Maru:

Since she works for Harvey at the clinic, she’s the best equipped to care for you. She knows what sort of medicine to give you and what foods to avoid. As for the farm, it doesn’t see any improvements in the days you’re off. She focuses on getting you back on your feet again. Maru hates seeing you miserable like that.

Penny:

Penny is very sweet and gentle with you, never asking you for help with the farm on your few days off. She shyly asks for help from Leah one time, just to try and get things done faster so they aren’t out there all day. Penny’s happy to help though, checking on you every so often. She even talks to Maru about what kind of medicine she should get.

Bachelors + Sick Farmer!

Alex:

Not gonna lie, he doesn’t know what to do. Alex is panicking more than anyone else. He takes care of the farm work easily, trying to run your daily errands. He tells his grandparents about it, who come over with a batch of cookies and soup for you. Evelyn sits with you for most of the day when Alex isn’t there, telling you stories about him as a child to make you laugh.

Elliott:

He’s the most dramatic about it, obviously. Elliott tells you poems and stories he wrote, acting like you’re on your deathbed. He’s just joking, though! He makes it very clear with the way that he kisses your forehead and holds you at night that he doesn’t care if he gets sick too, he just wants to spend time with you. He tries to do the farm work but finds it a lot more difficult than he thought. You’re just happy he tried.

Harvey:

Ah, the doctor. The one that’s supposed to be the most level-headed in a situation like this (especially because he’s seen worse) is stressing the most. He knows it’s just the flu, not some deadly disease, but he’s very strict when he tells you to lay down and take medicine. He isn’t quite as touchy as usual, because he still has a job to go to and things to do, but he still likes to walk over and kiss you on the cheek whenever you look particularly miserable.

Sam:

Sam takes a while to realize you’re sick. He just thinks you’re being grumpy at first. He helps out around the farm (not nearly as much as you’d like, but hey, at least your plants aren’t dying) and tries to take care of you at the same time. It’d almost be better if he focused on one at a time after he said to Vincent that he couldn’t talk because he had to water the Farmer and give the plants their medicine. He’s doing his best, too.

Sebastian:

Sebastian has the weakest immune system in the world, so when you’re sick, he stays away from you for a while. He brings you food occasionally, usually just warming up cans of soup and giving you crackers. He has to call Robin to ask for help because he’s stuck on what to do. And more worried than he’d like to admit. He takes care of the plants, but doesn’t go near the animals. They’re too stinky for him.

Shane:

Shane has dealt with Jas being sick plenty of times now, so he knows what to do. He’s the most level-headed out of all of them, surprisingly. He lets you rest, offering to care for the animals and tend to the plants. He even lets Jas come over to visit you and keep you company. You don’t provide much conversation, but you figured that she just likes being near someone, especially someone that reminds her of Shane.

Can I go One sentence without mentioning the SDV kids?? The answer is no. I had to rewrite Sam’s because it kept turning into Vincent and The Farmer Hang Out Because They’re Sick and Sam is There Too I Guess. I constantly think about Jas and how I went to talk to her and she went “Wes!! I love youuu!!” Like PLEASE you are the cutest ever and I adore you. I don’t know if it’s from a mod or not, but either way, cutest thing ever I nearly cried.

Anyways! Hope you enjoyed. Had a lot of fun writing this one. :))

Requests are open, like always!!

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons

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sdvharveybby · 3 years

Note

so i fell fast and hard for harvey, you know, as you do. i was wondering if i could request harvey and the farmer going to an aerobics class together? this man was so shy about it and it absolutely melts my heart 🥺🥺 thank you so much!!

OH bby anon do I understand! When I first watched that event I was like, “Oh you sweet man. So so precious!!” This ask is such a cute idea, thank you so much for sending it in! I never thought about this, personally, so I’m glad you sent it!

I really enjoyed writing this, as well, but I’ll be honest... I’m not 100% confident about it? I certainly loved writing it, but if this isn’t up to your liking- I’m totally down with re-writing it. I don’t want anyone to feel major dissatisfaction with my work, you know? Let me know! I, originally, intended to do some headcannons (because thems are easy mode), but honestly- it fit a fic type better. Also, Zumba is crazy crazy fun- I did it in high school, and I had a blast! I felt like it fit the story and his event!

Regardless, inspiration with this was actually memories! I recently quit my martial arts class (due to health reasons), but the mood in this story is exactly how it was in my dojo! One time I was doing a Naeryeo-Chagi (also known as “axe kick”, but you bring your leg up as high as you can and with a flat foot you snap your leg down), I can kick pretty high, so when I kicked as high as I could I felt my other foot leave the ground and I fell FLAT on my butt. I was so stunned!! Eyes wide, all I could do was just laugh. Everyone thought it was funny and so did I! That stuff just happens- it’s hilarious!! I have so many wonderful memories in that class...

ANYWAYS- HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BBY. THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN. I feel your love with Harvey (the boy deserves all the love in the world!!)

Word Count: 1572

An eventful day of hard work for the farmer, but luckily, they finished their chores early- hopefully to spend some time with Harvey. He always seemed to disappear on Tuesdays closer to noon and he never told the farmer why. It was perplexing, but he always carried a duffle bag with him and a look that bashfully avoided eye contact.

There he was, carrying his duffle bag as he made his way to town. Approaching him, the farmer stopped him in his tracks, “You like to disappear around this time,” they teased as Harvey looked away. “Y-Yeah well, you know… Heh, doctor… duties?” Harvey’s words didn’t sound convincing whatsoever, especially since he came home from work early because his patient rescheduled their check-up. “With a duffle bag?” The farmer further challenged, now crossing their arms and putting their weight on one leg. They gave him a cocky smile as he began to blush, “Okay, okay-“ He submitted as he held up a hand, “You caught me! I’m taking cooking classes with Gus!” Harvey tried looking into the farmers eyes as he said this, but it wasn’t for long. “Harvey, you’re already a great cook. Now, what are you really doing? I won’t make fun of you!” They assured him as they walked and pulled Harvey into a big hug. He gave a heavy sigh and scuffed the dirt with his shoe. “Heh, well… Uhm… I’m still taking those aerobics classes. It’s a bit embarrassing, but you know- you saw it before. Just trying to work on myself!” Harvey was bashful and quiet as he said this, but he reciprocated the hug. Once they pulled away the farmer bounced back with a smile that made his heart stop. “Great! Let’s go then. We don’t want to be late.” They walked away from him making their way to Pierre’s. Harvey stood, stunned at the farmers response but bounded after them yelling, “What do you mean ‘we’?!” “I’m coming with you, and you can’t stop me.” The farmer smiled to Harvey and he blushed once again, “You don’t have too. You must be tired after work and all- I can’t ask you too-“ The farmer stopped and faced him, they gave a jokingly annoyed look, “We can do this together, Harvey. It’ll be fun and maybe it’ll be less embarrassing for you. My cardio is bad,” They laughed, and Harvey gave them a soft and affectionate look, “Okay, but don’t get worried about me. Even if I say I can’t breathe- I can,” He laughed back, and they made there way to Pierre’s together deciding to hold hands as they did so.

Harvey was nervous about the farmer joining him- he wasn’t sure how they’d react. Towards himself or the class! He didn’t want the farmer to feel embarrassed or witness him messing up. Most of all- it was hard for Harvey to be social with the ladies in class and he didn’t want them to see him as stiff compared to everyone else.

Walking inside they saw Marnie, Robin and Emily already there. They all gave Harvey and the farmer warm smiles, “What do we have here?” Robin began as they put an arm around the farmer, “I decided that I’m joining today! My cardio sucks,” Robin laughed and whispered into their ear, “Don’t worry, mind does too.” Emily jumped up and clapped her hands together, “This is awesome! We have the cute duo joining us!” They all gave them an endearing welcome that made Harvey and the farmer blush, and after roughly 20min of chatting they all decided to get to work. The farmer looked around and watched everyone begin to pick their spots. “Today is actually Zumba class led by Caroline. You’ll love it- it’s really fun. She’ll teach you the dance moves to the song she chooses, and we just copy her,” Harvey remarked leaning towards the farmer. Now, this was all new territory for the farmer, but they were determined to have fun and get some exercise in. Harvey seemed confident so why couldn’t they?

The session lasted about an hour long, and it wasn’t until the farmer had sweat droplets running down their face that they realized how intensive these classes get. These women have to be power houses to get through this and still smile like it was nothing, the farmer thought as they hunched over breathing heavily. “You… You look tired,” a voice heaved behind them and as they looked, Harvey didn’t look any better. He had his hands on his knees and he closed his eyes trying to get his breath back. Sweat dripped off him as he brought up a hand towel and began wiping his face. “Please,” the farmer choked out as they smiled, “You look worse than I do,” they managed to finish as they laid down to relax a bit. “I blame the fact that I already did my farm work before this,” Harvey laughed as they said this and sat beside them holding a water bottle. “You did great! Isn’t it fun?” The farmer sat up and took his water bottle, they downed about half of it before responding, “I can’t believe how fun this is! Once you get the moves down it just flows. I felt so… powerful,” they laughed and gave Harvey a big smile. “Thanks for coming,” he admitted, “You being here, with me, actually helped a lot. I was pretty embarrassed being in a class full of women who have been doing this longer than I. They’re so strong and they can get through the whole class like it’s nothing- I felt so out of place.” The farmer gave him a friendly punch to his arm, “I’m coming back- this feels great! But wow, it also hurts.”

The walk home was slow, but it was filled with excitement from both the farmer and Harvey. “Honestly, it’s pretty admirable for you to go those classes,” They began as Harvey walked beside them- he kept his sweatband on and occasionally drank from his water bottle. “You think so?” He questioned wiping the excess water from his mouth. “Oh, yeah! You see Marnie? She can move, I was in awe. She knew everything and was so confident- it was kind of intimidating! I know what you mean about feeling out of place.” The farmer admitted and cracked their knuckles, “I’ll show her up next time though! Then she’ll be in awe!” Harvey laughed at that and watched them with admiration. The determination the farmer had to want to keep coming to the class eased his nerves and made him quite happy. It was something they could do together, something new to experience, and having a partner who was almost as out of shape as he was, was comforting. “Thanks for coming. Like I said, it helped out my confidence having you with me.” He didn’t look at them as he said, he looked forward as he walked, and he wore a small smile. “Oh, Harvey- you knew the moves too! You were so cool to watch, I mean, I didn’t know you could even move like that,” The farmer teased nudging him. He chuckled at that and offered the farmer the rest of his water through the walk home.

It had been a few months since they went to there first class together, and they had a blast! They both felt like they were getting stronger and with the farmer at his side Harvey worked like he never had before. He had someone he wanted to impress, and it gave him the motivation to keep working on himself and his health. Whenever they’d go to class together, they wore ear-to-ear smiles and it was filled with plenty of laughable moments, like the farmer using the jump rope. They weren’t bad at it, but the one time the rope wrapped around their ankle, tripping them, and they hit the ground face first. Harvey was of course worried but was relieved when the farmer rolled over roaring with laughter. He then, of course, joined the laughter while he helped them stand. Or the time that Harvey was lifting his weights- he pulled one up with enough force that he accidentally let go and it flew! When it hit the ground (making a loud BANG) he blushed madly as Pierre bolted in the room and began lecturing everyone in the class. Nobody could hide their smiles and giggles when Pierre grew red with anger, “You better not break anything! This isn’t some stomping ground!!” Course Robin was the first to break as she fell out in laughter, keeling over as soon as Pierre left the room. Harvey no longer felt out of place in the aerobics class, and he constantly thanked the farmer for that. He realized that he was more embarrassed about possibly messing up than just accepting that moments like that just happen and he began to laugh whenever something silly happened to him. Whenever someone tripped or dropped something he learned to laugh (when they did) and not immediately assume something was wrong. He learned that the most from how many times the farmer tripped, fell, scrapped something, dropped something and instead of feeling embarrassed or nervous, they just laughed. Everyone else did too!

Looking back, Harvey was extremely grateful for having the farmer at his side. He never expected this to happen, but he was happy that it did!

#sdv #sdv harvey #sdv fic #sdv farmer #harvey stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew harvey #harvey stardew #farmer stardew valley #stardew valley farmer #farmer stardew

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

Note

About your atla ship songs, I have a couple of questions (sorry if my phrasing comes out wrong, english isn't my first language and I worry it might across as accidentally defensive): how did you end up with the choices for zukka, jetko and yuekka (note: I haven't seen the great comet, so feel free to obsess over it, I'm intrigued now and the hype is appreciated!)? Sidenote: I think the mailee choice is HILARIOUS and the tokka one just make me sad, I didn't expect to be attacked like this😭

kdjfha;s i love you im gonna obsess SO HARD over great comet now. you may regret this

this is gonna be so long so the rest is under the cut whoops

yuekka: no one else from great comet

where do i even begin. WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN

okay so background information on this show: it's based off of a 76 oages excerpt from war and peace and its centered around a woman named natasha (and this guy pierre but he's irrelevant to this song so we wont worry about him) and natasha's bethrothed is off fighting in the war right now. she hasn't seen him in a while but she is in love with him.

every single lyrics of this song SCREAMS yuekka to me. the innocence and purity of their love. the love at first sight. and even the melancholy ending just- i go apeshit for this song. i love this song so much. and denee benton's voice??? kljsdhflwksugf please listen to this song if you haven't already. listen to the whole show. your life will be changed forever.

onto the lyrics (i stg this is ab to be the whole song whoops)

"the moon"

THOSE ARE THE FIRST WORDS ON THE SONG. natasha and andre (her bethrothed) met underneath the moonlight. Sokka and Yue first spoke to eachother at night and always met each other for their most intimate moments under the moonlight. also yue is LITERALLY the moon so like: right of the bat with those two words it's yuekka.

"and i saw your eyes / and i saw your smile / and the world opened wide"

sokka fell in love with yue the moment he saw her in the canal. she literally enchanted this motherfucker. everything about her made his heart go crazy. and 'the world opened wide' to me is from yue's perspective. Yue had never left the north pole and sokka had seen a good chuck of the world at the point. He took her on appa, he told her about his adventures. he saw the world yue wished to see and you know damn well that Sokka would have done anything to give it to her.

"oh the moon /oh the snow in the moonlight / and your childlike eyes and your distant smile / ill never be this happy again / you and i and no one else"

natasha sings fondly about the moon and the snow, seeing as it was where she fell in love with andre. yue and sokka LITERALLY fell in love in the same place: in the snowy nothern water tribe under the light of the moon. childlike eyes: THEYRE CHILDREN!!! distant smile: this is where it gets a little sad. theyre both children with way too many duties during a world that has known nothing but war for the past century. they want to be happy but yeah, theyre smiles are distant and far away because happiness seems out of reach for them most of the time. i'll never be this happy again: the moments yue and sokka shared together were probably the happiest either of them ever were. they were able to ignore the war and the world in the moments they shared together. and with no one else. no one else would be able to give each other this sense of peace and happiness and love.

"joy and life inside our souls / and no body knows just you and me / it's our secret"

Yue and Sokka had to sneak out in secret at night to go and see each other. Yue and Sokka couldn't be together for real because Yue was already engaged, but they were literally in love so she decided to see him anyways in secret. kasdjfhklasjd im losing my mind over them at this point.

"this winer sky / how can anyone sleep / there was never such a night before / i feel like putting my arms around my knees / and squeezing tight as possible / and flying away"

these are my FAVORITE lines in the entire song. yue and sokka had never felt this strongly about anyone before and that's why they are so drawn to each other. they had never experienced love before and they wanted to hold onto it for as long as they could even though they knew they couldnt. Sokka takes yue up on appa and she is wistful and wishes she could live like he does every day: ie flying away. oh my god these two deserved so much better. so much fucking better.

now for the saddes part. the saddest fucking part.

"maybe he'll come today / maybe he came already / and he's sitting in the drawing room / and i simply forgot"

natasha misses andre so intensely at this point. when i first listened to this show and heard this song i was like "wait a min... is andre like... dead?" and im sure i wasnt the only person who assumed that this was why natasha felt so sad by the end of such a beautiful song. (spoiler alert andre is fine)

but this line really exemplifies how sad natasha is, and hints at the fact that andre may never come back. it implies that their relationship is doomed (at least in my opinion) and that's all yuekka. Sokka misses yue intensely when shes gone. Yue accepted her fate almost immediately but sokka was in denial. he thought there had to be another way. but in the end it wasn't meant to be. and sokka will go on, loving yue, wishing for her back, even though it's not possible.

fuck im gonna cry.

zukka: all i've ever known- hadestown

"i was alone so long / i didn't even know that i was lonely / out in the cold so long / i didnt even know that i was cold"

sokka is from the swt so theres where the cold comes in. also in the gaang (initially) it was just him katara and aang. and katara and aang were much closer to each other than sokka was with aang and the two of them were benders so sokka was kind of an outsider with the two of them. He also represses a lot of his emotions and feels the need to do everything himself so i do see a lot of loneliness in sokka. and the fact that so many people in his life have left him (his mom, yue, his dad, suki briefly, etc...) he is known to keep people at an arms length. i see a lot of loneliness in sokka.

zuko's loneliness is a lot more obvious: he has literally been cast out and abandoned by everyone except iroh. and even then he still feels the need to be alone (remember zuko alone? thought so) these boys look after themselves and push others away and revel in their loneliness in order to keep themselves from getting hurt. at least in my opinion on canon and also some fanon because id be a liar if i said fanon didnt influence how i view ALL my ships (not just zukka)

"all ive ever known is how to hold my own / but now I wanna hold you too"

COME ONE MANNNN, they just wanna hold each other. theyre both very big protectors as well and kljhflkasdhg they wanna protect eachother like kljdhfl im gonna lose it rn.

"You take me in your arms / And suddenly there's sunlight all around me / Everything bright and warm / And shining like it never did before / And for a moment I forget / Just how dark and cold it gets"

SUNLIGHT SYMBOLISM. zuko is literally powered by the sun. i don't think i even NEED to elaborate on this one anymore lol. They find comfort in each other away from all of their trauma. when they're together nothing else matters and i personally love that for them. they both deserve love.

"I knew you before we met / And I don't even know you yet / All I know is your someone I have always known"

these two are extremely similar in canon. many parallels. older brothers overshadowed by their prodigy little sisters. longing to make their fathers proud (granted one dad is good and one is fuckin evil), both are pretty bad with emotions. both are seen protecting others before themselves (sokka protecting suki during the serpant's pass, sokka protecting toph on like multiple occassions, zuko protecting katara in the final agni kai), the list goes on. they know who the other is because they see themselves in the other person. they already know each other because they are each other (in a way, not entirely, but the similarities are strong in my opinion)

"I'm gonna hold you forever / The wind will never change on us / Long as we stay with each other / Then it will always be like this"

i just think this line is so cute and sweet (ignoring all the symbolism and foreshadowing that comes with the last line in the musical itself. im gonna pretend this is nothing but happy) and i think these boys deserve happiness so yeah. this song is zukka to me lol.

jetko: thrill of first love- falsettoes

if you've never listened to this song go an do it now. you will know INSTANTLY that it is jetko because of the dynamics alone. marvin and whizzer are pure jetko and i take no crticisms.

marvin and whizzer are both extremely stubborn, and they don't always get along, and they fight a lot, and they get mad at each other a lot, and they are both passionate as hell, and they will bring this passion into everything. they love each other that is without a doubt, but they arent perfect and they are once again stubborn and determined as fuck.

sound familiar? it's literally jetko.

the lyrics aren't what remind me of jetko, but the dynamic itself. the lyrics are too on the nose for a gay couple in 1970's america so that rlly cant apply to jetko all that much. but the way these two characters bounce off of each other and get annoyed with each other and argue with eachother reminds me of jetko. because let's be honest: these two are the most stubborn characters in the whole show. they will fight for what they believe and it will take literally everything to change their minds.

i love jetko but i think they would have petty arguments all the time and get aggravated by one another so easily. and this is even seen in canon: they work so fucking well together but they did not even HESITATE to fight one another after neither of them would give in and let the fight about whether jet was right or wrong about zuko being a firebender. like i cannot say it enough they are stubborn as fuck.

but underneath all that stubborn pettiness and bickering: marvin and whizzer still love each other. and jet and zuko would still love each other. because even though they are stubborn when it comes to arguments, they are even more stubborn and determined when it comes to each other. these two passionate motherfuckers are in love.

(now when i chose this song i decided to ignore the fact that this song literally spells out the fact that marvin and whizzer's relatinoship is doomed because they literally say passion dies. thats the difference between jetko and whizzer and marvin because i dont think passion dies. i chose this song strictly for the bickering lmao)

and i know you didnt ask about tokka but,,,,

i rlly wanna talk about the tokka one

so im going to

tokka: on my own- les mis

look. i KNOW this song is about unrequited love and i love tokka as a couple but,,, the unrequited love in this song just SCREAMS unrequited tokka to me so thats what i went with.

eponine is a girl who has neglectful parents who lives life by her own rules: toph. eponine is shown to be tough and confident and spunky to others but behind all of that she has emotions, she feels love, she hides her vulnerability so much: toph. she is in love with a guy she cant be with because he loves someone else: TOPH

eponine is toph to a t and toph is eponine to a t. this is not up for debate lmao

"without him i feel his arms around me"

toph is always seen grabbing onto someone (and its almost ALWAYS sokka) when she's somewhere where she can't use her feet to see. FEEL and ARMS cmon. look at it.

"and i know / i know that he is blind"

COME ON. IMAGINE TOPH SINGING THIS LINE. this line is already powerful enough in les mis but having toph, a blind character, sing it just makes the symbolism even deeper. toph sees the potential relationship they could have together. toph sees that sokka is oblivious to this. toph is not blind to the truth or the potention, but sokka is blind to her feelings. im about to lose my mind over this line.

"I love him / But every day I'm learning / All my life / I've only been pretending / Without me / His world will go on turning / A world that's full of happiness / That I have never known"

i need to sit down for a moment. toph grew up in a household where her parents did not understand her. she has learned to hide her true emotions and vulnerabilities from everyone. and its the fact that toph knows that she and sokka will never be together and the fact that she still loves him in spite of that is what makes this even more heartbreaking.

"but only on my own"

TOPH AND EPONINE SWEETIES I LOVE YOU

thank you for indulging my theatre kid nonsense. you are very sweet and kind and lovely and awesome and i hope you have a lovely day bestie :) <3

ask me why i think these songs go with these ships

#asks #liv is a theatre nerd #liv is an atla nerd #yuekka #zukka #jetko #tokka #ask me about my ship songs

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 5

Masterlist

Shoutout to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my sounding board and beta reader! She's the absolute best a girl could ask for, thanks my love!

Word Count: 3.0k

Recommended song: "The Heart is a Muscle" by Gang of Youths

You woke before the sun, Pierre's bare chest pressed to your back and an arm slung over your middle. You wiggle in his grasp, trying to be sneaky as you turn to face him but ultimately waking him. You run a finger over his lips as they curve upwards before biting lightly. You draw back and he laughs quietly.

"Morning," You whisper, head throbbing slightly. "I feel like I got hit by a train."

"Knocking back four or five shots in a few hours will do that to you." Pierre stretches, arching his back and exposing his neck. The slight mark you left the night before had darkened into a true, unmissable bruise. The reminder of it sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn't resist ghosting your lips over the hurt.

He sighs, cupping your chin and bringing your mouth up to his. The kiss is lazy, both of you still too ensnared by sleep to put any heat into it.

You stayed tangled in him until Yuki called to remind Pierre they had to be at the airport by eight. You helped him pack as slowly as you could manage, a stone settling in your gut. When the time came, Pierre hadn’t wanted to leave, only relenting when Yuki called again to say the jet was waiting on him.

The longing wasn't something that normally hit you this hard when Pierre left. It was new, the edges raw and unhealed when you poked at it. Everything on campus Tuesday reminded you of him, from the sunlight hitting the lab table to the rare cloudless blue of the London sky.

Just when you’d gotten over the sting of his absence, the news broke. Charles sent you the link to the article, simply captioned, 'You will want to read this.'

Gasly snogs mystery girl in London bar, the headline read. And fuck, that was a grainy picture of you standing between his legs, fingers tangled in his hair. You scroll through the article, heart in your throat, praying you weren’t called out by name.

By some small miracle, whoever had taken the photos hadn’t gotten one of your face. Against your better judgement, you checked the comments.

That was where your name came up. Fans had connected the dots. Your hair had been up that night, but it was the exact same shade as the picture. Your instagram had been filled with photosets of London for months, and Pierre had flown out early before Silverstone. Clearly he had been meeting someone. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that you were the one in the photos, even if the article didn't mention you directly.

The first DM didn’t come for a few hours. It was nasty, the user hurling cruel words at you that struck your chest like tiny knives. Plenty more followed, threats and names alike.

Gold digger.

Does she really think she deserves him?

He could do so much better.

You couldn’t bear attending classes. You sent Pierre the link to the damning article and stayed in your apartment and sobbed. The fans- if they could even be called such a thing- pulled no punches. Every DM and comment struck home, until you eventually had to turn your phone off and curl up in bed, defeated.

People are cruel, you thought, wiping the tears that streak down your cheeks.

You kept your phone off for a few hours before you gathered the courage to check it again. You immediately uninstall any and all social media, unwilling to let it affect you further than it already had. But messages pour in, most from Pierre and a few from your brother.

Hell yeah! Was all your brother sent, along with a screenshot of the article. Your mouth twists, the memory of the comments washing over you again.

Pierre’s messages were the ones that broke you. There were close to a dozen of them, accompanied by missed calls and panicked voicemails.

“Are you okay? Please pick up the phone, my love, I need to hear that you’re okay. I love you. Please call me back.”

The last message, time stamped from a half hour earlier, simply said, “I’m getting on a plane.”

A fresh sob wracks your body. You press a hand to your mouth, trying to silence it. God, he was so pure hearted. You knew the comments would hurt him just as much as they hurt you, if not more. He would blame himself, when in reality, it had been a mutual mistake. Either one of you should have recognized the risks of your actions. But you couldn't let him risk his career for it. You could make it through… somehow.

I’m okay, you type, hating that you had to lie. You don’t need to come to London.

I’m already in the air, He informs you, and you curse softly. He would have hell to pay upon returning to Austria, even if he had somehow convinced Tost to let him leave at the last minute.

I'll be there soon

The flight from Vienna to Heathrow was about two and a half hours, which meant you had that long to pull yourself together. You didn’t want Pierre to see you broken. You shower and change into slightly less ragged sweatpants and an oversized shirt. You grab your laptop, quickly emailing your professors to apologize for missing lecture unannounced and informing them you wouldn’t be there the rest of the week either. You'd need time to sort out your head before facing your peers.

Pierre’s knock came far too quickly. You’d barely assembled your face into a mask of resolve before the door opened. Whatever semblance of control you'd managed to construct came crashing down at the sight of him. He looks just as distraught as you, eyes red and cheeks flushed.

Before he says a word, he gathers you in his arms, tucking your head to his chest. Your lip wobbles, and when he whispers “I’m so sorry,” the tears fall in earnest. For less than a week, you’d been on top of the world with Pierre by your side. You’d gotten to enjoy the idea of being his girlfriend for six days before reality stepped in and ruined it.

You clutch at his shirt, fighting hard to piece yourself back together. Now that he was there, the dam had burst and no amount of willpower could keep the sobs back.

Pierre sweeps you up, one arm under your knees and the other keeping you tight to him as he carries you to your bedroom. He climbs into bed, shoes and all, and keeps you in his lap as he strokes your hair. He sniffles, softly enough that you know he's trying to be strong for you. The realization that he's crying too just makes it hurt that much more.

"I'm sorry," He whispers again and again, as if the two syllables were the only ones he remembered. You can't find your voice to tell him you don't blame him or how much his presence means.

Instead, you press your face into the soft cotton of his sweater. He doesn't move except to stroke a calloused hand over your hair. You let his presence wash over you until your breathing turns more even and your fingers stop trembling.

"H-how were you able to leave Austria?" Your voice shakes, but you tilt your head up to face him. He quickly wipes away the wetness on his cheeks with a sleeve.

"I just left. The only one I told was Yuki. He said he'd cover for me. I saw the comments and I couldn't think straight. I didn't want you to believe them." The look he turns on you is an apology. "When I called and it didn't even ring, I had to get to you."

"I don't think you'll be welcomed back with open arms," You point out, and he presses a tender kiss to your brow.

"They can be pissed at me all they want. I don't care. I needed to be here." You wouldn't admit it, but he was right. The fact that he'd risked everything to comfort you helped you ignore what those users had said. Nothing could ever erase the words, but Pierre’s presence dulled their impact.

“I already petitioned for the article to be removed,” Pierre says softly. “Don’t know if it’ll amount to anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

You nod and wipe your nose on your sleeve. “It’s so much worse than I imagined.” Pierre’s cheek comes to a rest atop your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that I’m not the only one that loves you. But it’s like they don’t remember that I’m human.”

“People are bold when they're speaking to a screen instead of another person.”

"It was so much easier before anyone knew," You say, words dipped in longing. Rumors had never swirled when you had kept your distance, you'd made sure of it. But now that the secret was out… Would your life be spent dodging threats and dealing with negativity?

He pauses, thumb stilling. “Do you… Do you want it to go back to the way things were before? When we were... friends?"

Your head whips around. “What?”

“It isn’t fair that you have to go through this because of me,” He explains. “I hate the fact that I’m the one causing you pain. The way you’re being treated is only because I live in the spotlight.”

“It’s not your fault,” You assert, placing a hand on his stubbled cheek. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

“Maybe it would be easier if we-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” You say sternly. You force him to look at you, his eyes storming like the sea. “We’ll figure it out. Our emotions got the best of us last week. We just have to be more careful, keep this behind closed doors. We don’t need to flaunt it, right? Just tell the press that you want to keep your private life private, and I’ll take a break from social media. We can figure it out.”

Pierre nodded in agreement. His voice is scratchy, like he had swallowed gravel. “Alright.”

“It’s us against the world,” You tell him, “And I couldn’t ask for a better teammate.” Your lips ghost against his in an attempt to reassure him. He returns the kiss, firmer and more confident. Your hand slips to the nape of his neck, drawing him in as your tongue glides against his lower lip.

Last week, you’d fucked. But tonight, the sex was something else entirely. It was soft sighs and languid kisses, whispered words of adoration and promises of endless love. Above all, it was an affirmation. Pierre loved you; heart, mind, and soul. In every sense of the word. He would let nothing come between you and himself. Not his career, jealous fans, or the thousands of miles that may sometimes separate you.

Pierre offered you his heart, and you accepted it without question.

**********

The few precious hours Pierre managed to give you were enough to keep you afloat the rest of the week. The break from seemingly endless lectures helped to reset your mind and give you time to focus on yourself.

Pierre called as often as he could, and texted when he couldn’t. You filled him in on the little things you did to keep busy, like how you spent all of Sunday rearranging your tiny apartment so that your bed was as close to his in Austria as you could get it. Monday night, you fell asleep on Facetime with him as you tried and failed to write a term paper for your architectural history class.

Pierre’s visit and subsequent calls had made you feel invincible. But the moment you walk into the lecture hall on Tuesday, everyone’s eyes are on you: the first test of your newly minted confidence. Chin held high, you meet a few of their stares and take your usual seat at the front. The moment you start to question yourself, if you're ready to face the scrutiny, your phone buzzes with a text from Pierre.

Ignore them. Remember that I love you. I’ll call you tonight.

Once again, he somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear. It amazed you that a handful of carefully selected words could grant you so much strength. But it was proof that Pierre recognized and accepted your fears and was willing to help you work through them.

You take a breath, letting the whispers of your classmates fade until they were nothing more than a faint hum. You turn your focus on the professor as she enters, falling into your usual cadence. Easy. You could ignore the gossip until they got tired of it and left you alone. Their fascination couldn’t last more than a few days.

You made it through the rest of your classes and walked home without incident. No one ran up to you and demanded you explain your relationship with Pierre. Your worst fears had been abated. The stress of it rolls off your shoulders when you make it to your apartment. It was already 7 o’clock, but Pierre hadn’t called yet. Seeing as Austria was an hour ahead, you weren’t sure he would hold to his earlier promise.

Your stomach growls, and you leave your bag next to your bed before heading to the kitchen. Dinner was a box of macaroni and cheese, simple but delicious. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at your phone every few minutes, hoping to see Pierre’s name on the screen.

Coming to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be getting a call, you settle into your favorite chair and crack open your laptop. Term papers didn't write themselves, and you still had a few thousand words to write. You lost yourself in theories and articles for a few hours before your phone breaks your concentration.

You awake?

A smile splits your face. Yeah. Working on this never ending term paper.

I'll leave you to it. Love you, sleep tight.

You laugh quietly. You agree with his 'school first' mentality most of the time, but there were exceptions to every rule. You call him, heart stuttering when he answers.

"You're supposed to be writing."

"Well, nice to hear your voice too," You say playfully. "It was boring me anyway. Who wants to read twenty pages comparing Roman and Greek columns anyway?"

"I'm pretty sure your professor does," He says with a laugh that warms your bones. If only he were standing in front of you so you could feel his chest rumble beneath your fingertips. Wanting to see his face, you switch to a video call.

"I was wondering how long that would take," He teases, smile wide and welcoming.

"I miss you," You say softly, padding to your bed. You'd accomplished enough that you could push off writing more until tomorrow. "I wish I could come to Japan this weekend."

"Me too, my love," He responds, voice tinged with longing. "It's one of the more challenging circuits on the calendar. And you've always wanted to visit Tokyo."

You weren't surprised that he remembered that silly dream of yours. "Send me something that reminds me of you." You flick off the lights before climbing under the covers, pulling them up to your chin. "Something cute and sweet."

"I fly out tomorrow night to meet Charles. I should have some extra time to do some window shopping."

"You and Charles going on a date?" You tease, propping your head on a hand. Now that you were cozy, it was hard to keep your eyes open.

He shakes his head. "He's been… helping me with the press. Tackling it all."

"Oh." The mood sours. You decide not to dwell on it, turning to humor instead. "Give him a kiss for me as a thank you."

"He would love that," Pierre laughs. Comfortable silence blankets you, broken only by Pierre humming softly. It was a song you recognize as one of his favorites; it must have been stuck in his head.

"What time do I have to wake up on Sunday?" You mumble, struggling to stay awake while he was unknowingly serenading you.

"Do you want to watch the prerace stuff?" Papers shuffle softly on the other end as he figures it out for you. "If you do, probably like 3:30. If not, the race would be at five your time, so maybe 4:30."

"That's early. You're lucky I love you enough to sacrifice my beauty sleep."

He didn't hesitate before responding. "Luckily you don't need sleep to be beautiful."

Your mouth curls in a sleepy smile. "When you say things like that, I hate the distance between us even more."

Pierre scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't have a break for another month or so."

"I know."

Silence falls again, both of you lost in your own heads.

"You should sleep," He says finally, and you nod. Your first class was only 6 hours from now. "I'll sing to you if you promise to close your eyes and try to sleep."

Despite your best efforts, you yawn. You often called him for a song when you couldn't sleep and the time difference permitted it. Just hearing his voice was soothing enough, but a song? It was heaven. "Shouldn't be hard to do." Sleep came within minutes, Pierre's soft song your lullaby.

Tagging: @flashcal @sunshinesewis

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outofbodyinjury · 4 years

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drivers as 2010s hit songs

(at least on north american radio stations)

Lewis: Daft Punk - Get Lucky keeps bopping for longer than you'd expect. unironically very good whether you'll admit it or not. you get bored when you're not paying attention, but it's worth it to listen up.

Valtteri: Avicii - Levels nordic. makes me cry. just keeps going, and the good feeling is dubious. they talk about it so many times you wonder when you’re getting that good feeling. foundational to a genre, a stepping stone for many more great things.

Sebastian: Coldplay - Every Teardrop is a Waterfall old. very important. vocal haters but overall very palatable. it makes you wistful more often than you'd like to admit.

Charles: Lil Nas X - Old Town Road horses. little kids love this one. absolute simple mastery in its field but damn there’s a lot of discourse. horses again.

Max: DJ Snake, Lil Jon - Turn Down for What irritating, goes too hard just when you don’t want it too, but don’t tell me you’ve never gotten hyped. it’s not that deep and that’s kind of the allure.

Alex: Lorde - Team the prospects are grim but the essence is hope. you like this one, something about it is very fundamental. it’s thoughtful vibes all the way down and everyone else you love likes it too.

Carlos: Robin Thicke - Blurred Lines did it sort of slap, for a pop song? ʸᵉˢ did it actually need loads of side-eye? yeah, that too

Lando: Carly Rae Jepsen - Call Me Maybe overplayed, but you'll play it again because it's unironically good. rated by people who know their shit, like KOAN Sound and Jenson Button. too cute to be true.

Daniel: Post Malone - Congratulations makes for terrible instagram captions, but people do it anyway.

Esteban: Luis Fonsi - Despacito earworm! never goes away when you want it to. shows up whenever something bad happens, to the point where it’s funny. this... is so sad. alexa,

Daniil: AWOLNATION - Sail is it just me, or was this one always intimidating? you laugh a little nervously when it comes on the radio, and it’s either an acquired taste or you’ve always slept on it. maybe a bit too raw for its own good.

Pierre: Tame Impala - The Less I Know The Better oooh you’re so special for liking this one. did you know he’s actually just one person? everyone knows this one, deserves all the airtime it gets, would deserve any more it got. even the haters have a spot of affection.

Checo: Ylvis - The Fox (What Does the Fox Say?) had a pretty fuckin terrible time in 2013. not taken as seriously as it perhaps should have been.

Lance: twenty one pilots - Stressed Out incredibly divisive! people who hate it think they’re so cool, but they’re missing out on a fair bit of fun. everything’s cute and nothing’s too serious

Kimi: Pharrell Williams - Happy is this stopping soon? lots of old fucks like this one. dubious congratulations for your fortitude!

Antonio: Capital Cities - Safe and Sound cheesy but cheery, the sound of the summer. no one hates it. terribly endearing if you pay a bit of attention, but at the end of the decade it’s still a one-hit-wonder :(

Romain: PSY - Gangnam Style you probably don't understand but you get hyped anyway. you don’t need to understand. more important than anyone realises. good times all around and very unnecessarily hated.

Kevin: Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks hoes mad! edgy shit has arrived. keeps getting in trouble for it. if it hadn’t taken off, mark foster and kmag would be in much humbler circumstances right now.

George: Mark Ronson - Uptown Funk (feat. Bruno Mars) you like it. it probably likes you too. unrealistically charming, didn’t have to do a lot to convince you of that. cooler than you will ever be, but you don’t mind.

Nicholas: Drake - God’s Plan money money money 🙏🙏🙏 this is pretty self explanatory. the vibes are good and so are you

#fr charles is more stupid horse by gecs but that's not a big enough hit #leo i hope you see the one that's for you. that one is for you. literally only you. did you know his name is actually kev-#grudging admittance that tdfw slaps. i'm going to go cry now #i have a massive soft spot for safe n sound #can you tell i ran out of ideas for checo #also we don't really play british artists on the radio here and I don't like adele or fuckin uhhh what's his name. the a team guy. ED #this is a little bit about my tastes and a little about local and national radio #tagging time yeehaw #lewis hamilton #valtteri bottas #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #max verstappen #alex albon #carlos sainz #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #esteban ocon #daniil kvyat #pierre gasly #sergio perez #lance stroll #kimi raikkonen #antonio giovinazzi #romain grosjean #kevin magnussen #george russell #nicholas latifi #f1 #formula 1

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ipuckwithhockey · 4 years

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He Doesn’t Hate You - Boone Jenner

A/N: I’ve been in a Columbus mood... Also, I know Seth is a little problematic but it just seemed to flow best with him as the best friend. This is pretty short and sweet. Let me know what y’all think! (I did not edit this so beware of typos)

warnings: nothing really? some swear words, drinking, nothing too crazy, this is pretty soft

——

You met Boone a few months ago when you moved to Columbus for your new job. You grew up down the street from Seth Jones, and so when you got the job offer in Columbus you couldn’t turn it down. You and Seth were close friends growing up, even when him and his family were moving around for his dad’s basketball career. You had older brothers who played sports with Seth, but you were always on their coat tails trying your best to keep up.

By the time you got settled into your new apartment, Seth had returned to the city for training camp. Seth had insisted that as your surrogate big brother he had to show you around town, and so you found yourself hanging out with him whenever you weren’t working. You didn’t know anyone else in Ohio so if you wanted social interaction outside of work, Seth was basically it.

A couple weeks after Seth got back to Columbus, he started mentioning that you needed to meet the guys on the team. He kept saying that they were like his other family and that you would love them too. You didn’t doubt him, but you were busy and tired with work and big social gatherings just didn’t seem appealing to you.

Eventually you caved, just like you knew you would, and that’s how you found yourself in a casual bar meeting the members of the Columbus Blue Jackets.

You really liked most of the team. Seth was right, Josh was a big teddy bear who you really couldn’t see getting into scrums on the ice, and you were definitely going to be good friends. Pierre seemed like a nice kid who was really finding his way in the NHL, and Cam definitely didn’t seem old enough to be a dad. Cam’s wife Natalie had come too, and she was so sweet. You quickly became a part of the CBJ group and everyone was so great and welcoming…

Except Boone. Boone Jenner.

It’s not that he was being rude, he just didn’t seem too interested in anything you had to say. Whenever you were around him he’d stop talking, or just leave. The eye contact? Non-Existent. He would never even look at you. It was like he just didn’t want to be friends with you and you had no idea why.

You brought it up to Seth one day and he just replied with “He’ll come around. He’s just not good around new people.”

You wanted to believe Seth but something about it just didn’t seem right. Boone was pretty cute, and he was always in a great mood with his friends, and he seemed like a really nice guy when he was with them. If he wasn’t so weird around you, you might actually be into him.

——

“Dude. Why are you being so weird?”

“Seth, what the hell are you talking about?” Boone looks over his shoulder to see Seth coming into the locker room to get ready for practice.

“Y/N thinks you hate her. She keeps asking me what she did to make you not want to be her friend.”

“What? I don’t hate her”

“Dude. I know. I also know you’re not good at the whole flirting thing but avoiding her every time she comes into the room isn’t helping your case.”

“Wh-what? I’m not trying to flirt with her.”

“HA. Yeah, ok..”

And that’s the end of the conversation as more guys pile into the room to get ready.

Boone’s a bit nervous now, and thinks that maybe Seth has figured him out. He didn’t hate Y/N. He actually really liked her. When she showed up to the bar that first night he was almost pissed that Seth hadn’t mentioned how beautiful she was. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And then she starts talking about football and is giving everyone shit about being Browns fans, and reminiscing about growing up playing soccer down the street with Seth. She tried explaining her job, but it was way over Boone’s head. She was funny, and smart, and sure of herself, and he knew he was screwed.

Boone wasn’t known for being the best with the ladies. He did ok for himself, but he was more of the shy type, while Andy and Jonesy were more outgoing player types. So every time she was around he got nervous. It’s like he just couldn’t think of anything to say, and when he did he thought you would think he was an idiot, so he just avoided you.

——

“Seth, I know you guys just won a big game, but I’m tired and I don’t really want to spend the whole night in a bar pretending to be friends with Boone.” You’re complaining over the phone as Seth tries to convince you to come out with them. You hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks since you’ve both been busy with work. A night out honestly seemed fun, but the thought of Boone making the dynamic weird all night had you trying to get out of it.

“Y/N for god’s sake, he doesn’t hate you! He likes you! and i think you just make him nervous because he’s a fucking idiot.”

He likes you… He likes you?

“Seth. What are you talking about. He barely even speaks to me.”

“BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU.”

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you at the bar in an hour!” and he hangs up the phone.

Now you’re just left sitting there thinking about what Seth just said. Boone. Boone Jenner. Likes you? But against all better judgement you kind of get it. He does get a little blushy when you accidentally touch his arm or laugh at his jokes… Maybe Seth is right…

——

“Booner, Y/N is coming tonight, do us all a favor and just make a move already. We can’t take anymore of you being an awkward idiot in front of her.” Seth is teasing Boone as they make their way to the bar to get a round of drinks, but now that Boone knows you’re coming out, he’s nervous. Should he make a move? Will you reject him and then make the whole dynamic of the group even weirder? What if you don’t reject him…

He’s lost in thought while everyone has settled into a booth toward the back of the bar when you appear in front of them. You’re wearing tight black jeans, a leather jacket, and a satin tank top that is loosely hanging off your frame. You look good. And Boone definitely noticed.

“Hey guys, big win, eh?” You make sure to put the very Canadian sounding ‘eh’ on the end as you reach over to ruffle Andy’s hair.

“Yeah, you should have been there! It’s like your job is more important to you than coming to our games!”

“Andy, believe it or not, my job IS more important than coming to your all’s games! BUT what’s most important to me right now, is getting a drink.” You laugh and turn away from the boys heading to the bar, but this time noticing that Boone’s eyes are following you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t put a little more effort into your makeup and outfit after your conversation with Seth, but that still didn’t change the fact that Boone doesn’t hardly speak to you.

When you make it to the bar, you remember just how busy downtown Columbus can be on a Friday night. It’s packed, and getting a bartender to notice you is going to take some time. You’re almost ready to just give up when you see Boone push through the crowd and grab a bartender’s attention like its the easiest thing he’s ever done. You scoff, knowing that you were still just trying to get up to the bar, let alone trying to get the attention of someone who would take your order.

“Here.” You turn around to see Boone, holding a drink out to you.

“Oh. Thanks! You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you take the drink from him.

“I figured, you’d probably be waiting a while, thought I’d help you out,” he smiles at you and leaves you to walk back to the group. You notice just how long he actually held eye contact with you, and take in his perfect beard and beautiful eyes. Instinctively you raise the glass to your lips as you watch him walk back to your friends, and then you realize he had ordered your favorite drink. How did he even know?

But Boone knew your drink of choice because he was always watching you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you when you were in the same room.

When you got back to the booth, the seat next to Boone was empty so you sat down and joined in the conversation. The night went on and as more drinks flowed you and Boone started to converse more. He seemed more relaxed and you were actually having a really good time, and every once in a while your legs would touch, sending heat through your bodies.

You and Boone had really done a 180 in the last couple of hours.

The alcohol was probably giving you more confidence than you would normally have, but as you were sitting there laughing at a story that Seth and Andy were trying to tell, you let your hand fall on Boone’s leg. You felt him tense for a second but then relaxed into your touch.

You turn to him and whisper in his ear to thank him for the drink, “you knew it was my favorite didn’t you?”

With your hand on is leg, and your breath hot against his ear, he can barely even focus on what you’re saying, but he manages to nod his head in response to your question.

You let out a little laugh as you lean into Boone’s side and turn back to listen in on the story being told. Seth was right. He was definitely into you.

#boone jenner #boone jenner fic #boone jenner imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #columbus blue jackets #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #seth jones

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