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lydiimae · 1 month

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI

Based on a request you can find here <3

Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother, vaginal sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, praise, making love

A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦

He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.

Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.

The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.

The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.

A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.

You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.

"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.

You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.

You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.

It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.

And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.

In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.

Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.

"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.

Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.

You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.

You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.

You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.

Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.

She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.

"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.

She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.

Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.

You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.

A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.

He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.

When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.

The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?

Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.

The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.

The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.

You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.

"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.

He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.

You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.

You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.

You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.

You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.

It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.

After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.

You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.

He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.

"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.

"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.

"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.

"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.

"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.

He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.

"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.

Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.

He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.

After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.

You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?

You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.

Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.

You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.

You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.

"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.

He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.

He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.

"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.

He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.

He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.

"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.

He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.

He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.

Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.

Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.

"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.

He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.

You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.

"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.

"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.

You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.

He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.

He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.

You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.

You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.

You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.

The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.

He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.

That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.

After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.

"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.

Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.

You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.

He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.

Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.

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ghostlyloversworld · 3 months

Text

.｡.｡:∞♡*♥ making me love you! ♥*♡∞:｡.｡

Percy Jackson! X Fem! Persephone Reader

Idea! - the son of Poseidon and daughter of Persephone realizing that they aren't so different after all.

Waring! Cussing

Song Get him back! By Olivia Rodrigo

One, two, three Wait, is this the song with the drums?.

Percy groans as he tossed and turned in bed. He couldn't sleep that night, which was unusual for the demigod considering he's usually fast asleep drooling.

He pushed the blanket off him. He puts his feet on the ground, why was tonight so warm for no reason?. Gods he hated it ".. " his breathing steadily

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring He argued with me about everything He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye He said he's six-foot-two, and I'm like, "Dude, nice try".

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end Another song, another club, another bar, another dance And when he said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed 'Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down If I had to choose, I would say right now.

The son of Poseidon sighs as he walks to his bathroom. Tyson was fast asleep across the other hallway. He tried to find the light switch in the dark, but he struggles to find it for a good moment until the little 'click! ' noise when he found it he had switched the little switch up words.

He finally turns the water on. He let's it run for a good while before he finally splash water on his face. He turns the water off before grabbing a rag he softly pats his face with the rag. He took a good moment to look at his face, he sighs and runs his hands through his Raven hair.

But he wasn't the only one up. The daughter of Persephone was also up. But she was sitting down. At docks her feet swinging back and forth as she watched the water under her feet. Don't worry she had her shoes on making sure they didn't get wet with the water. She thinks that the water was just the right temperature but she wasn't going to try and figure out.

I wanna get him back I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad Oh, I wanna get him back 'Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad Oh, I want sweet revenge And I want him again I want to get him back, back, back.

As she sits there looking at the water. She hears the smooth voice of the son of Poseidon. "Can't sleep? " he asked as he walked up to her ".. Are you stalking me?" She asked him as she looks at the water "what? no.. I don't stalk people" he laughs at her question

"Hmm m'kay.." She sighs before she looks up at the boy who had one streak of white in his hair. "You still drool in you're sleep.. But I don't say it to not let you down hardly" she smirks he rolls his eyes "oh shut up.. You're also not pretty when sleeping.. " he laughs. "Ah so you do stalk people" "no I don't I already told you this " he sighs "that's stalking when you watch people sleep" she stats.

But that was last night. Now it was Morning.. She and Percy stayed up talking about nothing important. Just being teenagers.. The usual teasing, just a hint of flirting and just being idiots. They were at breakfast. At their tables. So when the daughter of Persephone looks up from her plate.

She saw Percy shoved blue pancakes in his mouth. She smirks and rolls her eyes before looking down at her plate again. He sat with Tyson . His half brother the boy who was a actual big sweetheart who was scared of Satyr's she actually felt bad for Tyson. The poor Cyclops

But when she saw the way the Cyclops face lit up with happiness. She smiles she had looked up in time to see it

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash 'Cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I'm hitting "Send" I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do He said I was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth And when I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin' But I am my father's daughter, so maybe I could fix him.

She fixed her hair. She looks away not wanting to seem like a creep but it was a little to late because Percy had saw her staring. He smirks and rolls his eyes

Actually he already knew everytime she would look their way.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back) And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back) Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back) With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back) Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back).

Tyson kept talking so happily. Not even noticing the staring girl. But it wasn't like she was trying to be rude. She just wanted to make sure they were okay. And laugh at Percy when he shoves blue pancakes in his mouth. God he was so stupid but she loved him. Wait what? She loved him?

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back) I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back) And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back) Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back) With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back) I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back) Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back).

So after lunch when breakfast had ended and everyone went their own ways. She finally found him training by himself. She walks up to him " jeez sea boy" he looks over at her "what flower girl" she smirks "oh just being my favorite as always. Mwah" he laughs "what the fu-. " she looks at him "don't cuss. There is kids around" she smirks

He laughs more "oh so you're so considered for the children. "Aye.. Those kids are innocent right now" she laughs. Great minds think alike. "Oh wow" he laughs so hard that his face was red "jeez you're blushing over me" she teased him "maybe " he shrugged. "Or maybe you're just to pretty for me" he shrugged.

I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him, I'll get him back Get him back, come on, come on I'm gonna get him so good, he won't even know what hit him He's gonna love me and hate me at the same time Get him back, girl, you better get him back I don't know I got him good, I got him really good.

#x fem!reader #pjo #fem reader #x female reader #percy jackson x reader #tyson percy jackson #grover underwood

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nerdygaymormon · 5 months

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Didn’t he try to get his gay employee to marry a woman lol? I love him, he was a sweet, kind man, but also old and a lifelong Republican.

Most American voters register with one of the two major political parties. I don't know why Fred Rogers registered as a Republican, but what Republicans stood for in the 1950's & 1960's is very different from how we think of that party today. According to his wife, Fred was "very independent in the way he voted."

————————————————————

It is true that Fred Rogers encouraged a gay employee to marry a woman. I think it's an unfortunate part of his history, but I think it's helpful to fill in more of the story.

Francois Clemmons was hired by Fred Rogers to be the first Black person to have a recurring role on children’s television. He would be Officer Clemmons on the show Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and he kept that roll for 25 years.

In his memoir, Officer Clemmons, Franc shares that one day in 1968, he was called into Fred’s office at the studio.

“Franc, we’ve come to love you here in the Neighborhood. You have talents and gifts that set you apart and above the crowd, and we want to ensure your place with us. Someone, we’re not able to say who, has informed us that you were seen at the local gay bar downtown with a buddy from school. Now I want you to know, Franc, that if you’re gay, it doesn’t matter to me at all. Whatever you say and do is fine with me, but if you’re going to be on the show, as an important member of the Neighborhood, you can’t be ‘out’ as gay. People must not know. … Many of the wrong people will get the worst idea, and we don’t want them thinking and talking about you like that. If those people put up enough fuss, then I couldn’t have you on the program. It’s not an issue for me. I don’t think you’re less of a person. I don’t think you’re immoral.”

Clemmons began to sob because he could only have the job only if he stayed in the closet.

If it had been known a gay man was a regular part of a children's show, it would've been cancelled. Remember, this is pre-Stonewall.

“You can have it all if you can keep that part of it out of the limelight. Have you ever thought of getting married? People do make some compromises in life.”

Francois Clemmons married a woman in 1968. In 1974 they divorced and Franc began living as an openly gay man.

Fred Rogers changed his advice, urging Clemmons to find a gay man he was happy with. He also stopped asking Clemmons to remain in the closet, and he warmly welcomed Clemmons' gay friends whenever they visited the television set. I've read that this change came from Fred getting to know and becoming friends with gay people.

—————————

Having a Black man as a police officer on the show was making a statement in support of Civil Rights. The most iconic encounter between Officer Clemmons and Mr. Rogers on the television show occurred in 1969.

At a time when many community pools were strictly segregated, Mr. Rogers invited Officer Clemmons to join him and cool his feet in a plastic wading pool. As Officer Clemmons was getting out of the pool, Mr. Rogers helped him dry his feet.

This exemplified the message that all people are equal and valued and loved

The core values of the television show were: Love your neighbor as yourself, be kind, say “I'm sorry,” smile, accept people and help them grow, be forgiving, see each day as a new chance to be happy, positive and kind. The show talked about grief, divorce, race issues and disability.

Fred Rogers' character regularly said, “there's no person in the whole world just like you” and “I like you just the way you are.” It was an example of radical acceptance.

In addition to Franc Clemmons, John Reardon is another openly gay man who regularly appeared on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, so it seems Fred Rogers personally didn't have an issue with gay people, but having them be open on the show was not something possible at that time. I'm sad that an openly gay character never occurred on the show.

Fred Rogers shared that evangelicals would sometimes write to him asking him to condemn homosexuality, and he never would, instead saying he — and God — loved everyone just as they were. Since 1967, Fred and his wife worshipped at Pittsburgh’s Sixth Avenue Presbyterian Church which was a diverse, progressive church where women were equal, social justice was the theme, and since the 1960's has engaged in a ministry to gay people and was the first Presbyterian church to ordain gays & lesbians.

While he was not a public advocate for gay rights, his message of unconditional acceptance didn't exclude any genders, orientations or races.

#fred rogers

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

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The disrespect toward indigenous peoples is what popped put at me today in one of your posts. I wonder how long the English have been looking down on the Welsh. We're the Saxons like that or is it the Normans who really thought they were better than everyone else. Cause it seems like it goes back a long way.

Oh, both, just in different ways. The Normals were imperialist, the Saxons were more theft and landgrab.

Something that makes me want to start hurling knives is the INCREDIBLY COMMON English myth that the Anglo-Saxons were a sweet innocent indigenous British people who were conquered and bullied by those mean nasty Normans (and Vikings), and because the Normans came over via France, that means everything was actually THEIR fault, and the true English i.e. the Anglo-Saxons, were victims too :(

When I say it's incredibly common, by the way, I really mean it. Enormous numbers of modern day English people believe this. I've seen BBC programs about the Viking invasions that claimed without a trace of irony that the Vikings would take slaves from "the native Anglo-Saxons". I've literally had English people comment this shit on posts of mine about Celtophobia and Welsh history. Like I'm there describing how the last Prince of Wales was locked in a wooden cage in Bristol Castle at the age of eight and lived out the remainder of his life there until his fifties so the Welsh would know their place, and some snivelling English cunt will straight up write a message going "Teehee really it was the Normans not the English though and they conquered the poor Anglo-Saxons too, poor England uwu"

Anyway in the dying days of the Roman empire in Britain one of the leading reasons for Rome abandoning Britannia was the constant waves of Anglo-Saxon invaders. There were so many the east coast of Britain became known as the Saxon Shore. There were so many the Romans built a line of forts that were and are literally called Saxon Shore Forts. There were so many that an official, historically documented, paid governmental position in Roman Britain was the Count of the Saxon Shore, i.e. the guy responsible for keeping the bastards out.

Rome had banned native military, of course, so when they then withdrew and took the armies with them, the people left had no defences against the incoming waves of Angles, Saxons and Jutes. England fell pretty quickly, Angles in the north, Saxons in the south, Jutes primarily in the east, I believe. What stopped their westward expansion was the Brythonic Celtic nations living in modern day Wales. And this is the origin of the Welsh dragon - those separate kingdoms needed a banner that united them, and represented Not Saxon. An anti-Saxon force. They chose a red dragon.

This is also the origin of King Arthur. An anti-Saxon king of the Brythons, who would repel these Germanic invaders. (It was several centuries later that England realised they should probably steal the term 'British', because otherwise they were marking themselves as 'not native'.)

Anyway the saving grace of the Anglo-Saxons in the end was actually that they were whiny little bitches who gave up trying to fight in Wales with its difficult mountains and fought each other instead. The whole sorry tale of the Heptarchy is the various Anglo-Saxon kingdoms fighting like cats in a bag, while Saxon king Offa built a dyke along the Welsh border and went "WELL YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OVER HERE" and every Welsh king went "...we literally didn't want to conquer you anyway, you spectacularly sad and stupid man"

Oh, and of course, there's the name 'Wales'. Given to us specifically by the Anglo-Saxons. And translated by centuries of English scholars, mostly very smugly, as 'foreigners'. A fun bit of early propaganda, look - foreigners in our own country that they tried and failed to steal.

All of which is a circuitous way of saying - yeah, it goes way back.

#WALES!#closed for cleaning on mondays #history nerdery #celtophobia

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honesttoglob · 5 months

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Ok so few thoughts on the Season 2 Bigtop Burger Supercut:

- Apparently the "freakazoids" that Cesare and the underworld have been keeping tabs on are Cryptids. I had suspected the freakazoids in question might be demons as Hell is taking some responsibility for them but they're cryptids??? Man, that just makes me sad, leave bigfoot alone :(((((

- One of the cryptids pictured is Flatwoods Monster, who, according to legend, is also an alien. The other two appear to be Mothman and though I'm a bit fuzzy on this one some sort of bigfoot or yeti creature. He's wearing a lil stetson hat. Did Cesare use the stetson hat trick before?

- The second still shown in the credits appears to be Munkustrap descending onto Earth on some sort of spacecraft as the Bigtop and Zomburger crews watch. They appear to be in the same positions/outfits as when Cesare whack-a-moled Steve into hell. Which is????? Idk what to make of that. Could Flatwoods Monster have some kind of alien technology that they used to contact Clown World? Are we finally gonna have Clown vs Undead War??????? I wonder how Munkustrap will react to seeing other clowns in the pink-yellow-blue spotted outfit which Tim, Penny and Billie are wearing, which seems to be a pattern which all banished clowns are exiled in. Looking forward to see how he looks now that he's aged! Also, I like that this scene implies the Zomburger and Bigtop gangs stick together! Which I want them too! SO BADLY!!!

- As @fr0stmask mentioned in a reply on this post, the spacecraft Munkustrap is seen on is actually a tire, as in the musical Cats, cats who are deemed worthy are sent up to the Heaviside Layer on a TIRE!!! Thanks for the info!

- What if the Cats performance is literal, and one clown actually gets sent "up to the heaviside layer", and that's what happened to Munkustrap and how he got the tire spacecraft. Steve got booted out via banishment and Munkustrap was chosen to ascend, but in the end they both ended up in the same place.

- Frances, Conrad and Allen look visibly upset when they realize Cesare isn't actually proposing a truce and is still up to his antagonistic bullshit.

- The image of Cesare in his weird little Cabinet of Dr. Caligari coffin makes my stomach do little back filps. We've seen Tim, Penny, Billie, Frances, Conrad, Allen, and Steve all in their own homes (For Steve it's his truck where he sleeps) but Never Cesare! Seeing him in there makes me nervous honestly because in the image, his box/cabinet has two doors on its front, with no handles inside, which suggests it closes from the outside and he's "stored" in there and deanimated (seeing as his eyes are closed and this is the only time we've seen him at rest) when not in use. This would add metaphorical meaning to Cesare's comments about being a puppet vendor, as now that's all he is- a puppet. He looks like a little doll being stored in his box. This seems to suggest something I've long suspected, that the "1000 year sentence" Cesare is being held on by the underworld may be bullshit, and he won't actually be allowed to go on retirement. Instead, this idea of his sentence one day ending is merely meant to motivate and control him, like a carrot being held in front of a horse. Could that candle shown at the end be his lifeforce? When its lit maybe he's animate, while when its snuffed out, he's a lifeless husk kept in a box.

- You think Cesare's and Steve's footie pajamas have a similar narrative role? Like to make them easily identifiable as rejects (in Steve's case) or property (in Cesare's case)? You think they're just meant to be dehumanizing or a source of shame?

- Tim was the first one to find Steve, which makes me feel fucked up that Steve still doesn't know his name and seems to mis-name him the most :(((((( Tom and Toby???????? I mean I get that my man likely has memory issues, he's very old and he hit his head very hard on the ground and he refuses to go easy on that fckng juul

- Baby Tim is so cute and handsome I'm dying

- The alley Steve emerges into in the after credits scene seems to rememble the alley with the hole in the ground that Conrad recounts Cesare getting money from. Is this because the underworld was able to track Steve's ascent through the ground to Earth's surface? Is this the same hole Cesare enters and exits the underworld from?

- Also, Steve spits out some rocks when he reaches the surface. U think that's how he started thinking of rocks as food? They just kimda got in ther and he thought "mmmnm yummy!"

- Based on the timelime and my own calcumalations, Steve landed in Sweden, creating the crater which is now known as the Siljan ring, and emerged a whole continent over in North America (at least I'm assuming the show takes place in North America. The driving wheel is on the left side, right? And everyone has American accents? (Except Tim) Is that enough?)

I have a theory that Penny reminds Steve of his own mother. Both women have the same voice actress (Lindsay Small-Butera, my beloved ;-;), and in season one, while Steve is high, once he hears Penny's voice, he shapeshifts into his child form (which I think might have been the last time he saw his mom before she dropped him off at Christian-Acting Camp) and asks her for soup. He's even in the same Little Lord Fontleroy outift. Also, at the Food Truck Expo, when Steve sees Cesare approaching him, he hides behind Penny's back. Also, they have a similar appearance in hair color and clown makeup.

- Speaking of Steve's family, in the scene where Steve is about to be shot into space, there are three clowns who stick out from the crowd. One, with a haircut resembling Steve's mother's on the right (I believe this is her), Munkustrap in the center (at least I believe this is him, their hair and faces are similar) and a male figure on the left. I believe this figure on the left is Steve's father, and Munkustrap is either Steve's brother or past love interest (I think him being his brother is more realistic because him being Steve's love interest and sending him into space is I think too dark even for this show).

- I think the clown actors in Cats may only refer to eachother by their character names. Munkustrap is given no other name, and Steve being stripped of his name as "Old Deut" is seen as a big deal.

- I noticed whenever male clowns get old, their hair develops into sort of a tonsure style with a little dollop of hair sitting right in the middle of their bald spot. Peanut has this, along with Steve's father, and Steve is also developing this as well, based on the wicked widow's peak he has whenever his hat is off.

- bro I wanna see Cesare and Munkustrap interact so bad. What if they get jealous of eachother like, "No! I'm the only emo twink that gets to make Steve's life a living hell, who the fck are you???"

- I want them. To fight lol

- Cat fight!!!!!

- I may be stretching with this one but Munkustrap and Cesare just look kinda visually similar to me? At least with the black onesie and the dark unkempt hair. You think there's a reason for that? Or is it more metaphorical, as in these are just two people who have an impact on Steve's life in that they do their best to not let him fit in with the general society?

- In the still of Munkustrap descending from the sky, Conrad is build like a brick shit house frfr

Just needed to get these thoughts out of my head so they don't weigh down on my humors and make me bad at art and work and remembering to eat food and sleep and bathe and breathe for the next however many months it is before another episode O-O

#bigtop burger #worthikids #btb #btb steve #btb cesare

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 8 months

Text

Good Omens: Lockdown, Aziraphale’s SAD-ASS desk, and how they get to 'Our bookshop' in S2

Welcome to part 2 of me reading reeaally far into the Good Omens: Lockdown video! (part 1 from Crowley's POV here) This post assumes the item choices in the Lockdown visuals are intentional. What follows is going to be my headcanon regardless, but if you're into the Word of God, Lockdown is canon 'If you want it to be.' and I want it to be, sooo checkmate! >;D

Also this is something of a long boi (~13 minute read without following the links >.>), so if you're into unhinged analysis of details and literary references that indicate Aziraphale is in his longing era and want to learn more about author and fave-of-Gaiman, G.K. Chesterton, either get comfy or mark this to read later when you have time!

C: What? A: *somehow surprised even though HE CALLED* A-ah, hello. It's me! C: I know it's you, Aziraphale. A: *regaining composure* Yes, well, just calling to see how you were doing in lockdown.

The video starts with shots of Aziraphale and Crowley's da Vinci sketches (and some sushi remnants)... Babygirl is flipping through the time-goes-too-fast-for-me version of a facebook album, thinking about his crush. vERY chill of him. (also the paper looks new and he's eating on top of them, suggesting these are prints and he has multiple copies of them... sooo normal)

If we look closer at the still of Crowley's portrait, we can see part of the spine of a book that reads Kei- Chesterto-. This is, of course, author Gilbert Keith Chesterton, to whom Neil and Terry (and Crowley) dedicated Good Omens:

The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G. K. Chesterton A man who knew what was going on.

In this post by @azfellandco about Chesterton, you can see a photo of the dedication page and also read the book excerpt where Crowley describes Chesterton as 'the only poet in the twentieth century to even come close to the Truth'.

C: I'm bored. I'm so very very bored - transcendentally bored. There's nothing to do here!

As Crowley is explaining his nap contingency plan, we get a shot of Aziraphale picking up his mug of hot chocolate, then the image below of the 2/3rds gone bottle of Courvoisier cognac (i mean maybe he is baking with it let's not jump to conclusions), and then the stack of books beside a framed woodcut print of witches dancing with devils...

...that I used reverse image search to trace back to page 17 of a book from 1720 called The history of witches and wizards: giving a true account of all their tryals in England, Scotland, Swedeland, France, and New England; with their confession and condemnation.

Interestingly, the text above and below the picture reads:

At their Meeting they have usually Wine, or good Beer, Cakes, Meat, or the like; they Eat and Drink really: When they meet in their Bodies, Dance also, and have Musick...

Beside the framed print of Aziraphale's idea of a really great night out is a stack of books that includes (going from top to bottom):

Homer's The Iliad, Book 2

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer's Manual of the Fifteenth Century by Richard Kieckhefer

a book by Hilaire Belloc with no visible title

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K. Chesterton

The Iliad (according to sparknotes) has the following major themes:

....Interesting, ok. Book 2 in particular starts with a god (Zeus) messing with someone (Agamemnon) via a dream that says he will be successful in taking Troy if he launches a full assault, balls to the (city) wall. Agamemnon, who is supposed to be leading the Achaean army to conquer Troy, believes the dream but then in a weird twist decides to test his army and be like 'jk actually I'm giving up and going home' and then is mad when the soldiers are like 'sick, to the boats!' Then Odysseus, who sparknotes tells me is the most eloquent of the Achaeans, gives an impressive speech to inspire the troops and reminds them that they vowed 'that they would not abandon their struggle until the city fell.' ...No way that could worsen Aziraphale's internal conflict about being a bad Angel who thwarted the Great Plan. >.>; Orthodoxy we'll get to in a second.

Then there's Forbidden Rites which is a medieval necromancy guide translated from Latin with added commentary - Aziraphale is perhaps studying occult topics in an attempt to understand Crowley better? And then there's the Hilaire Belloc book on top of the second Chesterton book, a collection of related stories/episodes?, The Club of Queer Trades. The book's Wikipedia page says:

Each story in the collection is centered on a person who is making his living by some novel and extraordinary means. To gain admittance [to the Club of Queer Trades] one must have invented a unique means of earning a living and the subsequent trade being the main source of income.

Aziraphale and Crowley have rather novel/extraordinary jobs and they're both peculiar-queer and gay-queer. Neat. The narrator in the book is named Charlie "Cherub" Swinburne - also neat. >.> He goes on an adventure with his friend, a retired judge and president of the Club of Queer Trades, Basil Grant, (who Oct 2021 GoodReads reviewer Cecily said is "described as mad, mystical, and a poet, with almost no friends, but who “would talk to any one anywhere”) and Basil's younger brother, a private detective named Inspector Constable Rupert Grant. The last line of the book is:

Thus our epic ended where it had begun, like a true cycle. (something something "It starts, as it will end, with a garden.")

Anyway, the Belloc book and The Club of Queer Trades are placed back to back in such a way that they almost look like they could be one book with two different aesthetics, or... two halves of a pantomime beast?! (stay with me I needed a segue)

Belloc and Chesterton have what is essentially a ship name:

It was coined by George Bernard Shaw (if you are like me and didn't know why you've heard of him: he wrote, among other things, Pygmalion, which was adapted into My Fair Lady). Shaw apparently liked to gossip about Belloc and Chesterton with H.G. Wells (again if you're uncultured like me: he wrote, among other science fiction-y things, The War of the Worlds).

In the Feb 15, 1908 issue of The New Age newspaper, Shaw said:

He continued:

"Chesterton and Belloc are so unlike that they get frightfully into one another’s way. ... They are unlike in everything except the specific literary genius and delight in play-acting that is common to them, and that threw them into one another’s arms.”

Shaw says Belloc is 'a bit of a rowdy', and 'cannot bear isolation'. Hmm. Then he says Chesterton is 'friendly, easy-going, unaffected, gentle, magnanimous, and genuinely democratic'. HMM.

“They share one failing—almost the only specific trait they have in common except their literary talent. That failing is, I grieve to say, addiction to the pleasures of the table.”

Ok ok I think we can see where this is going.

(^ from Staged S3E6)

Now, someone did ask Neil Gaiman about this similarity, and he said the Lockdown video was filmed by Rob Wilkins in Terry Pratchett's library, and that he suspects 'Belloc is there because he was on Terry's shelves beside Chesterton.' And it MAY VERY WELL BE that NONE (0) of the book titles are meant in any way other than 'these are books from Sir Pratchett's library that looked nice on camera and ofc we wanted some Chesterton refs and maybe some demon-y stuff for Crowley' but that is WAY less fun so I am choosing to take them as intentional: these are books Aziraphale is actually reading (along with the sushi and many cakes he is actually eating). Let's put ourselves in Aziraphale's shoes and try to imagine how it would be to read this stuff during lockdown while you pine for a demon with slinky hips after you got in big trouble at work for Armageddoff (and work happens to have defined your worldview and general purpose in life).

C: welll... ngk then people might follow my bad example and get ill. Or even die—

As Crowley acknowledges that he ought to be out making peoples' lives worse, we see Orthodoxy by Chesterton open on the desk.

Orthodoxy is described as a ‘spiritual autobiography’ and is considered a classic of Christian apologetics, i.e. the religious discipline of defending religious doctrines (in this case, Catholic) through systematic argumentation and discourse. Wikipedia also says Chesterton's The Everlasting Man contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion to Christianity, so overall it sounds like he must've been fairly convincing. (and so maybe reading it also poked at that work-related-but-religious-trauma-adjacent stuff Aziraphale has going on?)

You can read Orthodoxy (and probably any of the books I mention bc theyre all old) on project gutenberg but I will include this part of what is shown on the righthand page bc it just reminds me (and so probably Azirapalala as well) of a certain angel squeaking happily at a nebula:

"I felt economical about the stars as if they were sapphires (they are called so in Milton's Eden): I hoarded the hills. For the universe is a single jewel, and while it is a natural cant to talk of a jewel as peerless and priceless, of this jewel it is literally true. This cosmos is indeed without peer and without price: for there cannot be another one."

Ok great, so Aziraphale is diving into the works of one of Crowley's favorite authors bc he misses him, that's cute. What else? Oh he already wrote him a letter right before calling - THE WICK ON THE WAX STICK FOR THE SEAL IS STILL SMOKING. sO CASUAL asdashgfjds

something something 'either call on the phone and talk, or appear mysteriously; don't do both'

When Aziraphale gets to 'I've never had so few customers, not in two hundred years!' We get a close up of this glass of cognac with droplets still on the side — I take back what I said about baking, Aziraphale is drinking it~

He's not drinking a wine, eg Châteauneuf-du-pape, which would be ~14% alcohol by volume (ABV), or a sherry (15-20% ABV); he is drinking Courvoisier cognac, a hard liquor (40% ABV). Crowley's Talisker whisky is 48.5% while we are on the topic. This is stronger than what Aziraphale usually drinks which means... he could be a bit tipsy.

As Aziraphale starts talking about the would-be cash-box burglary, we get this wide shot of the desk:

In the top left hand corner, we see two stacks of books, most (all?) of which appear to be Chesterton when I zoom in. Some of them have Chesterton's name visible on them, others have the publisher name 'Darwen Finlayson' on them, which according to my googling is a house that published several of Chesterton's works. If Chesterton was truly 'a man who knew what was going on', then perhaps this is Aziraphale seeking not just to feel closer to Crowley, but also to make sense of the warring ideas in his mind. Interestingly, Chesterton has also been described as 'The Eccentric Prince of Paradox'.

C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth?

The screen then shows two occult-y books and a flickering candle (lower left image). Then Aziraphale explains about his cake~, and as Crowley cuts him off because he's about to nervously ask to come over bc he is so so lonely & down bad for a certain angelic bookworm, we see a map of Oxfordshire on top of Pilgrim's Progress (lower right image).

The two books beside the candle are Satanism and Witchcraft (presumably the 1862 book by Jules Michelet that comes up when I search the title), and another called Magic: An Occult Primer.

Satanism and Witchcraft is described on Wikipedia as 'notable for being one of the first sympathetic histories of witchcraft' and says 'Michelet was one of the first few people to attempt to show the sociological explanation of the Witch Trials.’ Sympathy for people who like to eat/drink/dance with demons, if you will?

Magic: An Occult Primer is a 1972 book by David Conway, a Welsh (CACHU HWCH!) magus and is described as 'a seminal work that brought magical training to the every-magician'. It also includes an appendix called The Occult Who's Who, which is somewhat reminiscent of Hastur's Furfur's book about angels. In Chapter 11: A Word About Demons, it says in regard to summoning them:

"Assuming that the form has turned up in the right place, it will soon begin to act and talk in a very friendly manner; do not forget, however, that its winning ways conceal a sinister intention-- namely, to get the adept out of the circle, and into its clutches.”

...okay?? Aziraphale's desk has a flickering candle on it throughout the video, and we get a close up of the flame when Crowley offers to slither over:

and just like that, Aziraphale has summoned a demon~~

Naturally, he freaks out:

A: *panicking*Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over.

But why? Isn't this what he wanted? Let's go back to the Pilgrim's Progress shot from right before the successful demon summoning and zoom in:

In a similar vein to Orthodoxy, Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, is an allegorical Puritan conversion narrative. Christian is the main character / stand in for anyone who wants to be in the allegory and Hopeful is well, hopeful, from what I gather. A slightly larger continuous excerpt is here for the curious, but here are some bits I thought were especially interesting in the part of the book shown above:

Christian: Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again? Hopeful: Many things; as, If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or, If I have heard any read in the Bible; or, If mine head did begin to ache; or, If I were told that some of my neighbors were sick; or, If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or, If I thought of dying myself; or, If I heard that sudden death happened to others; But especially when I thought of myself that I must quickly come to judgment.

Perhaps the pandemic is bringing Aziraphale's "sins" to mind again, on top of the whole choosing faces thing to avoid 'quickly coming to judgment'. And then:

Hopeful: I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be lost forever. Christian: And did you endeavor to mend? Hopeful: Yes, and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too, and betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, etc.

UM??? While I can't say about the praying or weeping for sin, he has definitely been reading and the whole 'giving a good talking to' the burglars could be 'speaking truth to [the] neighbors'...?

Anyway to recap:

Aziraphale has been poring over books about dark magic and demons as well as a ton of books by an author that Crowley loves and who formed a partnership w a very different person in a sort of yin-yang, pantomime beast situation

He has been looking at pictures that remind him of their fun times w Leo in Florence and eating sushi and cake cake cake (and forgiving sinners) and drinking hot chocolate and cognac trying to fill a void but now he's tipsy so he wrote Crowley a letter, stamped it with a wax seal and then thought 'I should call her' BUT

His recent brush with attempted death penalties, the death toll of the pandemic, and some of the religious books he was reading have also filled him with guilt/fear over disobeying Heaven, who he knows could still be watching him and Crowley, so he feels much more conflicted than usual AND

He probably has some inkling that he wants to go ape shit on that ox rib if it comes over to hang out (lol editing to add bc i remembered ox rib discourse: ape shit in an emotional way! whether you hc them as ace or not I just think he really likes him and I’m using ox ribs as a stand in for general forbidden joy/love, not specifically sexy stuff)

So he has to say no.

Anything else might cause him to spontaneously discorporate into a plume of pining and cognitively dissonant gay smoke, which may be all well and good if you only think there's a God, but if you KNOW it and the angels are absolutely recording you and Heaven just tried to kill you and your wife colleague, it's... kind of a big deal.

C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

We don't get to hear Aziraphale's response, but besties you and I both know he is not feeling tickety-boo. He spent like a month putting off calling Crowley (UK lockdowns started end of March, the call is at the beginning of May), finally got drunk and said what the Hell, it'll just be a fun flirty chat in between his temptations, and then it turned out Crowley was depressed and not going anywhere and Aziraphale made him even sadder. And then it got worse because it wasn't all over in July, or in October, even.

I think Aziraphale ends up with a lot of time and brain space in which to think about how Orthodoxy and Pilgrim's Progress were only written to guide *mortals* and how it really wouldn't be so bad if he spent more time with Crowley, would it? Heaven hasn't reached out in actual years again, things feel safer. Crowley is essentially Good and spending time with him would be sort of ministering to the downtrodden and afflicted, and Aziraphale does miss reporting his good deeds (lol you know, whatever rationalizations you need to get you there).

More than anything, he thinks about how hollow everything feels without Crowley; how no mouthful of food or drink tastes as satisfying in his absence because it wasn't ever just about the 'gross matter'...

So when lockdowns end, Aziraphale begins to summon his demon again, but this time with much less inner struggling. It all comes so naturally, when you let it. By the beginning of Season 2 in 2023, they seem delightfully comfortable with their shared routines and places (see also this lovely post by @nightgoodomens). Our car. Our bookshop.

Aziraphale might take longer to catch up, but he does get there.

(SHHH DON'T THINK ABOUT EPISODE 6! STOP! I'M HANGING UP!)

“The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.” ― G.K. Chesterton

320 notes · View notes

formulapierre · 10 months

Text

Timezone | Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x y/n!reader

prompt: based off my favourite song at the moment; Timezone by Maneskin. Where Charles is fed up with being so far away from you at a time where both of your lives are changing, not that he knows that.

warnings: 18+ as brief mentions of sex

word count: 4.6k

Song:

“You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better And every time I see your face, the moon should be jealous”

“Bonsoir Amour,” Charles says as his face pops up on your screen. “You look tired,” He quickly adds, as you make yourself comfortable on the bed you usually share.

“I am, work was a nightmare…all I want is to go to sleep and your shirts just don’t cut it anymore darling,” You joke as you show him the shirt you were wearing, it was one of his favourite linen button-ups; the one he likes to wear when you go driving down the Monegasque coastline together.

You had sprayed it with the few drops of his cologne that were left in the bottle…but that was starting to fade, seeing how long he’d been gone. Nothing was the same as when you fell asleep in his arms; his warm chest pressing against your back, arm around your waist as he told you how much he loved you. “Stay with me?” You ask, turning off the bedside lamp as you prop your phone on the side table.

“Of course, I’ve got tons of emails to go through so I will probably still be here when you wake up,” He jokes as he sets his phone against the wall, atop the makeshift desk in his foreign hotel room. He continued to talk as you rested your head on the pillow below, wanting to listen to how Pierre ended up locking himself inside his hotel room; knowing that this was about as good as time-together got at the moment but also knowing that you had to be up early for work tomorrow.

The latter finally proved to be more important.

“And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine”

Charles continued to talk for an hour until he broke eye-contact with the laptop in front of him to find the peaceful image of you fast asleep. He starts to question how worth it all is. Is his job, His dream worth more than you? Shouldn’t he be home with you, letting you rant about your day as he made dinner? But then He supposes once he met you, his dreams changed.

Growing up, Charles’ dreams were about one thing. Becoming world champion. But since meeting you he can't help dreaming of you, and everything you could become together. He would imagine the chateau you would have in the south of France in which you would raise your children (He knew you wanted children as you had expressed it before when He asked…but only at a time that suited you both, you didn’t want to be raising them yourself, and Charles didn’t want that either. Or at least…that was the plan)

“I would sacrifice it all for you…” He said quietly as he admired your sleeping figure. “Every last bit, every race, every win…if it meant I didn’t have to leave you like this amour, I don’t know how much longer I can be apart from you” He continues, ignoring the sole tear threatening to roll down his face. His mood quickly changed when He imagined your response. How you would tell him ‘don’t worry about me’ and how ‘I’ll still be here when you get back’

But what you wouldn’t tell him was that you selfishly wished for nothing more, if only you had fallen for the guy next door. Why did he have to have such lofty dreams and ambitions…but also the ability to make them come true? You wished nothing but the world for him, and his happiness was yours; so why when you spoke to him over the phone did he always seem so…sad?

“I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm losing my mind”

“If not for you-” You sang as you swept the apartment, your daily Saturday routine nearly over and you were excited as Qualifying was only a few hours away. The music quieted by the incoming call you were receiving. You quickly hurried to the kitchen where your phone lay on charge next to the speaker. You disconnected both before answering.

“Charles? Is everything ok?” You ask, you knew with only a few hours until Quali he needed pure focus so this was unexpected.

“N-No…I-” He tries to say but you shush him as you move over onto the couch.

“Turn on your camera,” You say, revealing a tear-stained Charles. Your heart shattering into a million pieces to see him like this. “Hey, look at me…you are ok, take some deep breaths,” You say and he quickly does as he’s told, collapsing down onto the couch in his drivers room.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He says quietly, probably not wanting to alert anyone else in the hospitality to the situation.

“What can’t you do?” You ask confused.

“This…you and me-. The pressure I-” He starts to say before he realises what he said. “N-Not like that Amour. This distance between us. I haven’t seen you in nearly two months, I’m not myself without you, I’m losing my mind not being able to kiss you or hold you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this? Questions are being raised within the team, the media are saying I’m off my game.” He questions, his voice wavering at the end.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about. You are at the top of your game, Ferrari are performing as well as they have ever been and there are only two more races before you get to come back home…you’ll see me in just over two weeks darling. I know it’s hard, I feel it too. I walk around our apartment, remembering everything that's happened here and then I go to sleep alone, just waiting to see you again… But they are the sacrifices we have to make.” You tell him honestly as he wipes his face. He moved to the bathroom connected and you hear the tap running, assuming he is splashing his face with water. He returns to you much more calm and collected than before.

“T-Thank you Amour, I need to go but I will call you later,” He promises with a soft smile spread across his face.

“Good luck Darling,” You say before blowing him a kiss. You sit down to watch qualifying with baited breath, unaware of the toll your relationship was taking on your love.

“Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in”

*CALL NOT RECEIVED*

“Merde,” Charles swore as he threw his phone on the bed, he had finally gotten back to the hotel; only eight hours after the chequered flag. After celebrations, after media duties, after strategy debriefings, after engineering debriefings, after the awful traffic leaving the track, after everything…then, came you. But He had forgotten the time difference. You no doubt would have stayed up late to watch the race live, quickly sending him a congratulations text before falling asleep.

This was the part Charles hated the most, the loneliness. The empty hotel room, devoid of any emotion; leaving him with only his own thoughts for company. He longed for life to be different, for the days when he wasn’t under the spotlight. As much as Formula 1 was a team sport, he was the driver, so everything was done for him. He never had a chance to make many connections within the team.

Pierre was the exception, he was the childhood friend in the corner, always cheering him on. But even He had seen recently the shift in Charles’ mood. The change in how he interacted with others; shorter answers with the media, less patience for fans, sometimes borderline reckless driving on track. Pierre knew his reasons and how much Charles was struggling…that's why Pierre was the way He was. No long-term girlfriends, strenuous relationships with friends and his ‘fear’ of commitment. He saw what it was doing to his best-friend and didn’t like where it was headed.

“Wish I could've stayed”

“Have you got everything?” You ask your boyfriend as he wheels his three massive silver suitcases into the hallway.

“I think so, are you sure you’re alright to stay here by yourself? I could always ask Maman…you know she wouldn't say ‘no’ to staying a few weeks,” He offers again.

“Darling, I promise you, I will be fine. Eight weeks is only four-two week breaks. And I know I can do two weeks.” I assure him, taking his face in my hands as I do, slowly rubbing my thumb over his cheek. “I’ll still be here when you get back, and then you have a few weeks off where it can be just the two of us. We can do everything and Nothing if you want.” I remind him before pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

“I love you Ma Belle,” He mutters as he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. You spend a few minutes just taking in each other, knowing this would be the last time you would be in the same room as him for a few months.

“Je t’aime Chérie,” You reply, both of you knowing that was the extent of your French vocabulary, somehow making it even sweeter.

“Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog”

“This won’t take long, I promise,” Charles is told as he sits down at the table, around which sits his team. His lead Engineer, His PR officer, His Trainer and His Team principal. “We just wanted to make sure everyone is on the same page with what's going on over the coming weeks,”

“Ok, has anything changed?” He asks, looking over the calendar on his Ipad.

“After your performance in the last few races we think it would be beneficial to get in some extra SIM work once we return from China…a week maybe two will be more than en-” His Engineer says tentatively.

“No, absolutely not,” Charles says adamantly, his fists balling as the device thuds on the table. “I haven’t been home in over 6 weeks…I-I’m not waiting another month-” He says getting up. “I’m not doing this now…we focus on these two races,” He tells them before walking out the same door he had walked through not 10 minutes before.

“Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone”

CURRENT TIME — 17:36

HOME TIME —--- 02:36

The icon on his home screen taunted him as he watched the minutes tick by, the drive from the track to his hotel seeming even longer than usual. His mind goes back to that meeting, how dare they ask him to go to Maranello for another two weeks, he was there only a few days before he flew out for the first of the 6 races he was away for.

Did they understand that you were waiting on him? Did they care? Charles was beginning to think they didn't. If they did they would have at least offered him a week or two at home first. He sighed in frustration as thoughts swirled in his head, the usual thoughts when He was left alone…

“So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning”

“I want to come home Maman, I want to see her. It is unbearable to be without her any longer,” Charles said to his mother as they spoke, ironically mirroring your words from when you spoke to her a few days ago…’It’s unbearable to see him like this’.

“I know it is Cherie, it's the same feeling I felt when you and your Papa were travelling the world for your karting…you have wanted this for so long, I can see how much your racing means to you. But as your Mother I just want you to be happy, so if she makes you happier than you could ever be, then go for it. You’ve won races, you’ve won championships but you have to ask yourself if this particular one is worth all the pain I can see you’re in?” She asked as she sat on her balcony in Monaco. Unbeknownst to him however, that the exact person he was talking about, was sitting on his Mothers couch, listening to the conversation and reading a book.

“-I know, I know…she said the same thing. It would be slightly more bearable if the time-difference wasn’t so big. I called her 3 times last week and only then did I realise she would be fast asleep,” He complained. Your heart had sunk when you got back into bed and realised you had three missed calls from him; you had to very quickly run to the bathroom out of fear of vomiting on the floor, so didn’t even think about grabbing your phone and messaging him back.

“Only a few more weeks and you will be back in her arms, I promise,” She says before ending the call. The clouds covering the sun forced her inside as the wind picked up. “How are you feeling?” She asks, pressing her ice cold hand to your forehead.

“Honestly?” You ask and she nods. “Like shit, I can't get rid of this nausea, and every time it feels like it’ll pass, it comes straight back,” You admit as you take a sip of the steaming tea she had made you only minutes before you were interrupted.

“The first few months are like that. It was the same with Lorenzo and Arthur…don’t tell Charles though but he was a dream, no sickness, no nothing and labour was a breeze,” She says causing you to laugh, Mr Charles ‘Perfect’ Leclerc struck again.

“I'm coming home”

*CONFIRM FLIGHT MA1611 TO NICE*

[CONFIRM] [CHECK BOOKING]

Charles pressed the confirm button instantly, without hesitation. Without thought of the consequences of what would happen with his team; He would be at least a week early. He didn’t care about this last race, He didn’t care how close his rival was to him in terms of points. He didn’t care about anything…except getting home to you. He asked his Maman to collect him from the airport and drop him at home. He also swore her to secrecy but that seemed like the least important part.

“I wouldn’t have the balls…” Pierre said from across the table.

“You know how I feel about it, and Her,” He simply replied. But it was true, Pierre did know as they had talked about it for hours. Charles felt like Pierre was the only one who truly understood what it took and continued to take.

“I didn’t mean it like that…just make sure I’m the best man at the wedding alright?” He joked, neither of you had really discussed getting married. It just didn’t seem important at the time, but now, Pierre’s comment had planted a seed.

“Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone” “Tomorrow I got another plane,”

“How are you feeling about this last race?” His trainer asked as they walked through the international airport, only minutes away from boarding the flight to the final race.

“I’m feeling good, -I’m just going to go to the bathroom, you guys board without me…I’ll only be a few minutes,” Charles smoothly lied; He knew that the bathroom had two entrances in front of two different sides of the terminal.

“I'm not gonna take it”

He checked his watch and saw that his other flight was about to depart so He started to run. He shouted ‘sorry’ as he brushed past someone, others choosing to move out the way as He ran through the airport. He looked at the gate numbers as he ran. 35…..34…..33…..32…..31…..30. He sighed as he finally reached it. The last few people started to board as he took a minute to compose himself before approaching. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself as the Stewardess checked his boarding pass.

“Welcome onboard Mr. Leclerc,” She said politely to him before showing him behind the curtain to his left. He relaxed as He settled into his seat. Only 12 more hours until He would be with you.

“Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets” “And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed”

*MISSED CALL*

*SHOW [128] OTHER MISSED CALLS*

He didn’t even manage to put his seatbelt on before the calls started flooding in, he quickly silenced his phone and tucked it into the bottom of his bag. He really hoped he was making the right decision.

Charles was so exhausted from the past two months that He slept almost the whole way home, something very unusual for him. He was finally woken by the Stewardess telling him they were about to start their descent into Nice. At that news He woke up almost instantly, eager to be reunited with his Maman and see a familial face.

He made sure he was one of the first off the plane and was glad that his celebrity afforded him to be escorted through the airport and straight into arrivals. He didn’t have any bags to collect as they would be in the Middle East by now, probably with a group of very confused Ferrari employees. Pascale spotted her son almost immediately as He walked into the Arrivals hall, arms wrapping around him and pulling him into her.

“I’m proud of you, Cherie,” She says, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s get you home,” His Maman adds as they start to walk out of the airport, a place Charles wished to not see for a very long time.

“And they can say whatever,”

“I’ll just drop you here,” Pascale says as she arrives outside your apartment building.

“Thank you Maman, for everything,” Charles says as he kisses her on the cheek before getting out of the car. He rifles through his bag looking for his swipe pass that would allow him access to the building. As annoying as it was having to have the card, you couldn’t get into the building or up the elevators without it. He swung his bag over his shoulder before shutting the door. Charles went onto autopilot as he swiped into the building, swiped to open the elevator, pressed the button for the top floor, and walked towards your door. It was only until he reached your door that the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He had just deserted his team and travelled 12 hours across the globe to see you.

He raised his hand to knock. Should he knock? Technically he lived here too…He twisted the handle and walked into your shared apartment. He could see you out on the balcony, eyes shut and enjoying the fresh-air. Charles tried to be as quiet as He could, He took his shoes off and dumped his bag before slowly walking towards you.

The double doors were wide open as Charles approached and found you sleeping. He sunk down onto his knees next to the lounger you lay in and took your hand in his.

“Amour,” He whispered as He brought the back of your hand up to his lips and pressed a firm kiss to it. You muttered something under your breath. “Mon Ange,” He cooed as he tried to rouse you from your sleep.

“Mmh, want to sleep,” You groan as you try to swat his hand away.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me Amour,” He said, only now His voice registering in your head.

“Charlie?” You asked in utter disbelief as your eyes widened and you sat bolt upright. “You! You’re here!”

“I am, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” He assures you as you scramble to get up, tugging your shirt over your growing stomach before throwing your arms around him.

“Why- what-. Charles?” You ask, hoping he’d know what you were asking him.

“They don’t know I’m here. I’m tired and so fucking fed up of having to be away from you,” He admits and you sigh pulling him into your chest.

“I know you are Darling,” You tell him as you stroke the top of his head and fiddle with the tips of his hair. You fall into a comfortable silence as you just hold each other.

“I’m-,” You say.

“Ma-,” He says at the same time. “Sorry Amour, you go first,” Charles says with a smile on his face.

“I-I’m pregnant,” You admit taking his hand and placing it on your stomach.

“You’re what?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Pregnant, We’re having a baby Charles,” You tell him again with a wide smile on your face as you place your other hand on his cheek and rub it softly.

“We’re going to have a baby” He repeats in disbelief and I just nod. “How far along are you?” He asks, lifting your shirt up to see your slightly swollen stomach.

“The doctors think about three-and-a-half to four months. So I was pregnant before you left but with everything going on, I guess I just forgot,” You say but it seems like he’s daydreaming.

“Marry me,”

“What Ch-,”

“That's what I was going to say before. Marry me Amour, I haven’t bought a ring yet but I’m down on my knees so I’m halfway there. I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t know already. You are my reason; you are why I get up in the morning, why I try so hard at work, why I’m here right now. It’s all for you, and now our growing family…so marry me” He says, putting both hands on your stomach.

“You already know my answer Darling, you are my everything Charles,” You tell him, pulling him off of his knees and into your arms.

“I need you to say it,” He pleads.

“we'll be making love,” “ I'm fucking you tonight”

“Yes, I will marry you Mr Leclerc,” You say with a laugh as he picks you up and spins you around. “Charles, be careful. Morning sickness is not a joke,” You warn him and upon realisation he stops spinning you but picks you up, ironically, bridal style and carries you to your bedroom. “What are you-,”

“I want to fuck my fiancée, is that alright with her?” He asks teasingly as He places you down onto your bed gently.

“Let me check…,” You say, pretending to think. “She says she’s been waiting months for you to say that,” You say pulling him on top of you and letting yourself savour every moment of it.

“So fuck what I’m dreaming, this fame has no meaning,”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Abu Dhabi and to the final race of the season!” The commentator announces as the camera pans down the pitlane. “It all comes down to today. With only 5 points in it, who will be crowned World Champion?” He asks. “Will it be double world champion Max Verstappen with RedBull? Or will it be reigning three-time world champion Charles Leclerc with Ferrari? Well, todays the day. Stay tuned for the duel in the desert!” He announces over the TV screen in Ferrari’s hospitality suite. You were sitting next to Charles' family. Both of his brothers and their girlfriends, His mum and some of his extended family that were able to make it.

“In a shock week for Ferrari, well…more like Charles Leclerc; the grid will say goodbye to one of its most talented today. After arriving here two days later than scheduled, Charles posted onto his social media and announced in the press conference that He is retiring and Yas Marina would be his last race. He is joined this weekend by his whole family as we celebrate a very accomplished driver; and most especially He is joined by long-term girlfriend and as of a few days ago; Fiancée, Y/N who is a very well-known face within the paddock. We also send the Leclerc family our biggest congratulations at the news of their impending arrival,” The commentator said as He walked the grid in preparation for today's race. You all started to make your way into the garage, Arthur offering to carry your bag as you were taken aside and onto the track. Ferrari wanted to take a few photos with the team and Charles refused to take them unless you were there.

“Thank you for being here Amour,” He said, taking you by the hand and escorting you over to where his car lined up on pole position.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world Darling,” You say, pressing a kiss to the side of his face. Charles’ PR manager took the photos they wanted before He was ushered off for the national anthem. Whilst you stood next to His car the same commentator from earlier approached you.

“I am joined now by Y/N Y/L/N, How are you?” He asks, pointing the microphone at you.

“I’m feeling amazing Martin. Nervous for today but Excited for the party that will no doubt ensue tonight,” You answer.

“So your money is on Charles for the win?” He asks and you scoff.

“I think it has to be, doesn't it?” You joke causing him to laugh.

“Probably wouldn’t be a great start to your marriage if you didn’t,”

“Your words not mine Martin,” You playfully remind him.

“Well congratulations to you and Charles on your recent engagement-” He says before he is spoken to via his earpiece. “Jenson would like me to remind you not to forget his invitation,” Martin Brundle explains.

“Jenson I promise you will be the first to get an invite, and I will hand deliver it myself If I have to,” I promised him whilst looking directly at the camera.

“-and finally before I have to head off. Another congratulations to you and Charles, upon the announcement of your baby.” He says causing you to blush at all the attention you were receiving.

“Thank you Martin, it really means a lot,” You reply with a smile.

“If you are open to name suggestions…might I suggest Martin? It’s a great name!” He asks in true Martin Brundle style.

“I will have to consult with my husband-to-be, but I’m sure we’ll work something out. You assure him before the National Anthem starts to play.

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

Charles_Leclerc

Liked by Pierre_Gasly and 1,406,356 others

Charles_Leclerc Nothing in my life compares to today.

Juliette Elise Leclerc and Leo MartÍn Leclerc; I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart fills with joy every time I see you; your Maman and I are so unbelievably happy to introduce you to the world.

Y/N and I thank everyone for their kind words and messages over the past few days; we will however be taking some time away from the media whilst we adjust to our new lives as parents to our wonderful twins.

The birth of our children marks the start of a new chapter in both of our lives, one we have both been looking forward to for months. Before I take my leave I would like to dispel any rumours of my return to racing; I have no plan to return to racing in the foreseeable future as I plan to spend my time with my soon to be wife learning what it means to be a father.

Lastly, I just want to say how proud I am of Y/N, And how thankful I am to her for bringing our beautiful little girl and boy into the world.

Charles x

I hope you enjoyed reading, this is my first F1 oneshot I've published on tumblr so if you did enjoy it, please dont hesitate to let me know by dropping a comment. Thank you xxx

#f1 #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #Spotify

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coco-loco-nut · 15 days

Text

The Manuscript

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader, Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: "write what you know/lookin' backwards/might be the only way to move forward"

A/n: Surprise, here is a gift from my breakup writing! This album didn't have one miss. Unfortunately, this is not inspired by my own breakup.

requests open masterlist series masterlist __________

You have been holed up in your apartment outside of Nice, France, having moved there from America after your first bestseller. The ocean and beach usually help you write, but you are stuck, so your friends drag you out to Monaco for a girl's weekend.

As you sip on your drink, a guy slides up to you at the bar next to your hotel. "I'm not a donor but I'd give you my heart if you needed it," he says, glancing at your license, and you turn to him, rolling your eyes.

"You are a professional," you take in the guy beside you. His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"No, just a good samaritan," you let out a small laugh, tilting your head back and finishing your drink.

"A good samaritan would buy another round," your eyes sparkle playfully as he sits beside you, taking your silent invitation to flirt and talk. Your friends leave you alone for the rest of the night, happy to see you relaxed.

He takes you out for coffee the next morning, getting to know each other more. You find out some of the small things, he is 30, does something dangerous for a job, and you learn his first name.

"If the sex is as good as the conversation is, soon we might be pushing strollers," he teases. You become a frequent visitor to Monaco, spending passionate nights and quiet days in his insanely expensive apartment. You lay in bed, him stroking your hair, legs intertwined under the sheets, a light breeze flowing from the windows. You silently wished you were 30 too.

"You are wise beyond your years, this has really been above board, love," his accent soothing as he pulls you closer. You two were planning a year's worth of adventures with each other, you made your coffee together in a French press every morning, and things were going well. But soon it was over, and you weren't sure if things really were above board. Daniel Ricciardo was just a sad memory. You found out who he really was a year after they dated, seeing him in an ad on social media.

After the split, you booked a flight home, only sleeping in your mother's bed the week you were home, crying yourself to sleep. You only are Froot Loops and other children's cereal when she returned to her home in France and dated boys her own age, but they never worked out. You released another book, but it was missing something, your personal experiences were not infused into the book. It was still a best seller.

Years later, you returned to Monaco to celebrate her best friend's birthday where you met another boy your own age. He sees your disillusioned view of love and strives to turn it around. You sit in his apartment, a dartboard on the back of his door and you write and write.

The past couple years had passed by like scenes of a show. You had anonymously taken some writing and literature classes taught in English, your French was good but not that good. Your professor selected your first bestseller for one of the course texts. Thier statement regarding your book stuck with you the most. "Something I learned from Y/n L/n's debut book was to write what you know, looking backwards is sometimes the only way to move forward. She had said in interviews that she writes to heal and loves to infuse her life into her books, making it an intimate read," the professor had analyzed not only your books but also interviews. You approached the professor and introduced yourself, safe to say you didn't have to write an analysis paper on your book.

"How is your book?" your boyfriend asks as you furiously type, the actors hitting their marks.

"A wise professor once said to write what you know. Looking back might be the only way to move forward," you hum. He knew about your ex, but he only knows the ex's first name so he never thought much about the relationship despite you being open about it.

The slow dance of words was alight with sparks as tears fell from your eyes in sync with the score as you type the final words of your manuscript. Your boyfriend holds you close, eyes scanning the computer. At last, you knew what all the agony the last few years had been for.

Now and then you and your boyfriend reread the manuscript as it passes through editing. You go on an American book tour as he travels for work. You set up a camera for the book announcement, holding your book, simply titled 'The Manuscript'.

"To my ex, the only thing left is The Manuscript, one last souvenir from my trips to your shores. Dear readers, the story isn't mine anymore, it's yours," the short video goes viral. Your boyfriend sees a text pop up on your phone from a number you never bothered to block.

Daniel Ricciardo Y/n what the hell?

"Daniel Ricciardo was your ex?" Lando asks, never really putting the puzzle together.

"Yeah, he never even told me who he really was, I should've asked in fairness," you say cautiously. You noticed the next too.

"Well, I'm glad he didn't turn you off drivers. And I'm glad that I am the one who gets to love you," Lando hugs you, not mad at you for not disclosing that information.

"I love you, Lan, please don't give me a reason to write anything but a sweet romance book about you," you whisper, a silent plea to whoever decides fate.

"What about one of those smut books that girls like to take and read on vacation at the beach?" Lando jokes, your face flushing.

"Hmm, maybe," your smile lights up the room and Lando can't help but silently thank his former teammate for fucking up. Nothing satisfies both of you more than the look on Daniel's face when you show up to a grand prix on Lando's arm. You approach the Australian, fishing the book from your bag.

"Now and then I re-read The Manuscript, the story isn't mine anymore," you hand him the book, a handwritten note tucked into the pages as he watches you walk away. A reminder of everything he had and lost remains.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 grid x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo imagine #the tourtured poets department #this album had no misses #this song healed my broken heart #Spotify

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darkdarkstucky · 1 year

Text

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

CHAPTER THREE

“Wake up, buttercup!” Natasha cheerily exclaims, clapping her hands together after successfully pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in your desolate quarters. You groaned sleepily turning your head towards the other direction, until she peeled the covers back from you.

“Uh-uh, we are not letting you sleep in the bed for days on end again.” the red head tuts, pulling your limp arm and ushering you towards a seating position. “Today, we're going out and walking on sunshine vampy.”

“No. Let me wallow in doubt and sadness.” you whine, eyes shut. You were still in dreamland, nestled in the covers with the ac on full blast— and you could literally spend days in the bed it feels like. You were always so sleepy and tired.

Part of you blamed it on over-thinking. Your brain must have been fueling up for all of your racing thoughts. Or it was only during sleep that you weren't thinking anything.

“Can't. The sun is up and the day is to be conquered. Where's your fucking spirit?”

“Oh wait! I remember where i left it, let me check.” you wiggled, making her hold loosen before you dived back into the sheets.

Comfy. So so nice.. you rub your face in Clark's pillow, sighing out in bliss. Just as you were about to doze off again..

“Nat!” you bellow, feeling yourself get lifted off the bed and towards the en suite.

“We're going out and fucking things up dollface! No excuses!”

☁️

“I feel like richard gere and you're my bitch- well, technically not one, but you get my point.” Nat nonchalantly puts down the menu, staring at you from across the table.

There was an astounding array of shopping bags placed neatly along the floor, both of you going haywire on different shops and swiping daddy's plastics, and only when you calmed down did you realize how much clothes you bought.

You'd feel bad, yet both Steve and Clark had gaslighted you early on that it isn't real money princess. So you went on your merry way each time and thought as if you were only playing pretend.

“Why can't i be a bitch?” you mutter, inbetween bites of garlic bread, basically inhaling the small tray of decadent pastry. It was crunchy, and soft on the inside with hints of melted cheese. Ohmy, you wanted to gobble it up.

Nat looked at you as if you were stupid. “Because.. you're rainbows, and butterflies and shiny shimmering glitter.”

You made a face, “You're saying i'm made of nice things? Aww, naty.”

“Yes, and if i put you in my mouth, you'll melt like a cotton candy.” she flippantly voices, which made both of you stare at eachother— silent and intent gazes, before bursting into laughter. Giggling at the unknown double entrede.

“Hello, madamme.” Your head snaps towards a slightly familiar older man decked in a pristine suit, an easy yet flattering grin on his face. “How are you finding your lunch? Has anyone taken your order yet?”

“Oh, hey ben. It's pleasant, as it always is. We've actually just placed our orders,” You smile in response.

“Oh that's great! and you're here with Mrs. Barnes, i see.” He politely nods to the red head. “Will you be joining Mr. Kent at the second floor? He's got an entourage, but i doubt it's concerning business. It appears to be more casual.”

“Is that so? I mean, Clark did say something about a lunch. Who's he with?” Your mouth moves faster than you could think.

In reality, the only thing you've recieved from both of them were casual goodmornings and update as to where they were. Steve was in France, Clark said he was in Russia. Atleast, that was what they told you.

“The usual, madamme. A couple of security details, and a new secretary. She seems to be new, atleast from who Mr. Kent usually keeps in his payroll.” The host narrates, thinking nothing of it. Everyone was already well aware of how much you meant to your husbands— to the point where nobody would bat an eye if they were seen out with another woman. Nobody could possibly believe they would replace you.

And you hated to jump into conclusions, but why would he need to lie?

Your heart wanted to lurch out of your chest. Nat's clearing of her throat made you snap out of your spiral; and you schooled your features back into a cheery expression once again.

“Well, if Mr. Kent wouldn't mind our presence.”

☁️

“.. I was actually a scholar of Kent foundation. Can you believe it? Our fates, so intertwined. It was really as if we were meant to be.” Lois gushes, leaning over in her chair, looking at him as if she were about to jump his bones.

Frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable. Nothing about this - if you could even call it a date, it was more like a formal gathering or a meet of sorts that he was inclined to arrange- felt natural, nor right.

Clark wanted to rely on his base instincts for direction but he couldn't grope for a shred of connection. Not even a silver of fondness, which is strange, considering thag they were supposed to be compatible— the person oppsite of him bore the genetic compatibility, as per several tests.

Though, what she said piqued his interest. “Which part of town would you say?”

“Upper east side,” Lois responds. Clark shifted in his seat, a smile making it's way to his features which held a considerable sway in her judgement. He asks a few more questions in that honeyed voice of his, to which she absently replied at.

“Huh, would you look at that.” He leans back in his seat, gears in his head turning but he maintained an easy smile on his face, mirth dancing in the darkened blue of his eyes.

“How about i permanently move your residence in, say, one of my towers?” Lois' breath hitched at the proposal.

“I-i mean, sure if that's what you want.” she gathered herself for a while, before remembering to act bashful and blinking up at him rapidly, smiling coyly. “I'm yours afterall. Your mate.”

You can hear the jeers and the laughter, staying through the conversation, until you found yourself feeling literal pangs of hurt in your chest. Fuck. What does all of this mean?

“Let me kill this son of a whore,” Nat was about to angrily storm inside, but you managed to stop her, putting an arm out.

“Don't even bother.” you murmur, finding it hard to find your own voice. At that point, you felt almost numb— as if your brain was shutting down from what you've heard, finding it difficult to process at all.

You woke up with the hope of your marriage still intact. Thinking, rather stupidly, that this was just a rather difficult hurdle in your marriage. Thinking that perhaps, this was all just a big misunderstanding like what you were repeatedly assured of.

But this was beyond even your wildest dreams. Nothing made sense. It was as if your world was crashing down on you all at once. True mates? It mocks you repeatedly.

Steve and Clark told you that you were the one. You believed them, because why would they lie to you? They had no reason to!

To get in your pants, silly. The rational, or was it pessimistic part of you said.

You blinked away the tears, turning around, and indulging in the manical urge that clouded all your rationality— run.

So you fled.

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carlossainzwho · 6 months

Text

get him back!

carlos sainz x ex!reader

warnings: not proof-read and swearing

part one | part two | part three | part four below!

now, y/n doesn't care about him anymore

i met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring, he argued with me about everything, he had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye, he said he's six-foot-two and I'm like: dude, nice try!

she met him in summer, sun shining

left him in the spring, rain pouring

he wouldn't shut his mouth

about all the other girls he could have

such a big red flag,

lied about his height

and a lot more stuff than y/n liked

but in the end

who gives a shit?

but he was so much fun and he had such weird friends and he would take us out to parties and the night would never end another song, another club, another bar, another dance and when he said something wrong, he'd just fly me to france!

but the night outs with him were so damn fun

his stupid friends with their drunk asses

one party after another

and never-ending nights

one party after another

'feeling down, y/n?'

next destination, monaco!

so i miss him some nights when i'm feeling depressed till i remember every time he made a pass on my friend do i love him? Do i hate him? i guess it's up and down if i had to choose, i would say right now,

and so y/n missed those nights

where things would lead to the bed,

but all those times he slept with her friends

could not leave her head

did she really love him?

or hate him?

well...

i wanna get him back i wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad oh, i wanna get him back 'cause then again i really miss him and it makes me real sad oh, i want sweet revenge and i want him again i want to get him back, back, back

she wanted vengeance

she wanted to kiss his friends, make him feel sorry

but also

she wanted him for herself

she missed him so damn much

she wanted revenge, she wanted his love

she wanted to get

him

back!

so i write him all these letters, then i throw them in the trash 'cause i miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh yeah, i pour my little heart out, but as i'm hitting 'send' i picture all the faces of my disappointed friends

'hi carlos'

'how are you?'

'hi bab- oh wait-

you're not my babe anymore'

but i want you so bad

i need you to kiss me and make me laugh

tell me the jokes you tell to her

i want you

come over

here's my address

but oh

goddamn it, y/n

he's not worth anything

your friends will be so disappointed in you

because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do he said i was the only girl, but that just wasn't the truth and when i told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me i was tripping but i am my father's daughter, so maybe i could fix him!

it was no surprise

that he left y/n

everyone knew he was a son of a bitch

he went with other girls and told her she was the only one

y/n tried so hard

to fix it all, tell him how he'd hurt her

but she was her father's daughter

and her father was no coward

y/n vowed to show carlos what he was missing

oh, i wanna key his car i wanna make him lunch i wanna break his heart stitch it right back up i wanna kiss his face, with an uppercut i wanna meet his mum, and tell her her son sucks, yeah!

f1 car or road car, she wanted to destroy it, destroy him

but y/n wanted to make him lunch, tell him how much she loved him

she wanted to make him jealous, break his heart

but she wanted to be the one

to mend it for him

she wanted to kiss his handsome face

with an uppercut

she wanted to meet his mum

and tell her

how her son is

liar

reyesvdec <;/3

monday, 23rd march

hi reyes, can you ask carlos where he is? he won't answer my calls.

Hello love, of course!

He's out with some friends, he'll be back later!

ok!

thursday, 25th march

reyes, where is carlos?

reyes, i think he's with someone else

what do i do?

reyes, please

please?

today, 3:54 am

i hate your son, reyes

delivered

AHH i love the little text messages in the end, idk why i liked writing that so much?? also i think this might be the last part but i'll defo write some more carlos and oscar fics if you're up for it!!

what can i say, thank you so damn much for reading my fics, it means the world to me <3

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didalexiabreakupwitholgayet · 3 days

Note

I had never heard of the hamraoui case before, that’s such a sad case 😭 also she gets targeted/beat/attacked and basically the entire team/PSG sides with Diallo??

hi anons! looks there are some new fans likewise who are not aware of the "tonya harding" incident of women's football and the dumpster fire that continues to be psg feminines.

some basics: kheira hamraoui is a french midfielder who played for barça from 2018-2021, during the club's period of explosive growth. and she was a fun personality and part of barça's first champions' league winning team of 2021. here's an article about her good adaptation and contributions to barça. in 2021, she returned to france to play for psg.

so on 4 november 2021, hamraoui and her teammate aminata diallo were stopped in a car by two masked men. hamraoui was dragged from the car and hit with iron bars, with the assailants alleging commenting that she was having an "affair with a married man." well turns out her teammate diallo was arrested by police but released. and then diallo was re-arrested in september 2022 on "charges of serious bodily harm" and the several others arrested with her claimed they were acting on diallo's orders.

yeah, it's pretty insane. and what's worse is that there has been no resolution/conclusion and the courts are still supposedly investigating (diallo is currently playing in saudi arabia). but psg essentially froze kheira out and it looks like she didn't get any support from either the team or her teammates. kheira wrote about this in her memoir and has said in interviews:

"the squad no longer speaks to me, and psg has only one objective: that I leave as quickly as possible. they treat me like a plague victim.”

here's a pic of katoto and diani below honouring diallo after scoring.

in recent years. lyon has a habit of poaching players from psg too, so i'm sure that doesn't help things. and we had grace geyoro beefing with her former teammate, diani, at the champions league semi last week, and supposedly some unfollows off social media occurred.

anyway, that's psg in summary. doesn't help that they also have had players with big egos like lieke martens and ramona bachmann (until recently), and there's the latest with transphobic and homophobic korbin albert.

#kheira hamraoui #aminata diallo #psg feminines #futfem #woso

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sebastianthemadlad · 4 months

Text

THE NON CANON PARTS OF THE BLACK BUTLER ANIME IN BOTH SEASON 1 AND 2 AND ALSO THE SPECIALS WERE WILD

(in no particular order)

Ciel hires a random naked dog man who can turn into a giant wolf to be his servant even though he literally does nothing around the manor and just hangs out with Finny all the time

Finny forms a crush on a character we later find out is an angel named Angela and after the dog village arc ends we never hear of his crush again

For the most part the curry arc is the same, but for some reason they decided to change the ending. In the manga Lau and Ranmao killed Nina and her husband, in the anime everyone becomes evil by eating curry, and Sebastian had to feed them all his curry buns to turn them all good again, WHAT??

Sebastian has hanky panky with a Nun in some cult church

Angela took Vincent and Rachel's bodies and stitched them into a weird Frankenstein looking thing because apparently that would combine their souls in the afterlife so they could be together forever

Also the whole thing with Ciel being kidnapped by the cult is never explained despite Queen Victoria and Angela being responsible for the death of his parents, therefore you'd think they'd also be responsible for the whole cult thing? But they would have no reason to sell a 10 year old to be abused by a cult-

Ash (aka Angela because they're the same person) turns Queen Victoria into A FREAKING LOLI

Ciel is framed for drug trafficking

Sebastian is arrested and kept in a torture dungeon for like 3 days where he is BDSM whipped by Angela for some reason

Fred Abberline dies

Fred before he dies mentions he doesn't have any family yet he has a brother who shows up in season 2-

Lau and Ranmao die yet they also show up in season 2

Lizzy gets kidnapped by a doll man and is almost turned into a doll zombie (not a bizarre doll just a doll zombie)

Sebastian ditches Ciel in France for some reason

Ciel finds Undertaker on some random boat and then Undertaker tells him he's gonna freakin' die

London is on fucking fire

Who caused the fire? Pluto. And thats the only part of the story where he is relevant

The final fight between Sebastian and Ash/Angela is fucking awesome though

In season 2 Ciel is just in a suitcase and has amnesia

Alois pokes Hannah's eye out for spilling a drink or something

Ciel and Lizzy try to find a deer or something and everyone thinks they're gonna break up after just 1 argument

Lau even started a gambling thing where people put down their bets on whether or not Ciel and Lizzy were gonna break up

Some weird old lady set random people on fire because she didn't like her husband, for some reason the fire disintegrated the souls so Grell couldn't collect them which doesn't make sense

Some weird bullshit happens on a train with a Pharaoh, a murderer and Sebastian being cool like always

Alois has a dress up party at his house

Soma and Agni cry because Ciel has amnesia

Soma is dressed up as Sherlock Holmes even though black butler takes place before that came out

Lizzy dresses up as a Native American, you can say what you want about that

Kinda like the whole curry thing everyone turns evil except its from music from a magic instrument Hannah plays and not curry, and Sebastian stops it by playing his own music kind of like the final battle in Equestria Girls Rainbow Rocks

Alois crossdresses and turns Ciel bi curious

Sebastian and Claude have sexual tension in the lake

Ciel and Alois have a sword fight, Ciel is thrown off a balcony and Alois is stabbed

"PLEASE HELP ME CLAUDE, HELP ME I'M DYING 😭"

We soon find out about Alois' backstory and it's actually quite sad and hits a bit close to home for me, I won't go into detail but the poor kids been through a lot, Alois is genuinely an interesting and kind of well written character its a shame he was put in the non canon pile of shite

Claude then crushed Alois' skull and takes his soul and puts it in a ring

Kids are getting their eyeballs ripped out and apparently Alois is doing all of this, but for some reason Scotland yard THINKS CIEL IS ALOIS WHICH IS SO DUMB BECAUSE THEY'VE BEEN WORKING WITH HIM EVER SINCE HE BECAME THE QUEENS CORGI GUARD DOG

He is taken to some doctor and is dumped into a pool of gatorade to fuse his and Alois' souls

Ciel's backstory is basically half of Alois' and half of Ciel's and thinks Sebastian killed his brother Luca

Ciel doesn't like Claude because Claude is a goober

Hannah does a weird thing with Ciel she like... Possesses him? And his eyeball appears in her mouth or something? I had no idea what was going on

Soon it is revealed Hannah was the one who ate Luca's soul and is now feeling like a mother figure for Alois because of it

Grell shows up again (yay) and she keeps trying to take sexy photos of Sebastian

Soon Claude and Sebastian end up at a maze thingy and they need to answer trivia questions to get to Alois/Ciel's soul

Soon they go to some demon island and they end up fighting using a demon sword while Ciel and Alois talk about shit in some void

Claude fucking dies (rip goober)

Alois' soul is finally set free and the poor kid gets to be with his little brother again

Hannah turns Ciel into a demon so Sebastian can no longer eat his soul so Sebastian just becomes Ciel's butler for all eternity and I lowkey feel bad for him, because yeah eating childrens souls is wrong but BRO WORKED SO HARD HE LITERALLY BANGED A NUN FOR THIS CHILD AND THIS IS THE THANKS HE GETS??

Ciel and Sebastian fake their death, the end of season 2 and a few years after that the ACTUAL CONTINUATION OF THE CANON PARTS come out

Ciel in wonderland is very silly

Sebastian as the rabbit is hot for some reason, does that make me a furry?

There is a lot of weird fan service, for example Ranmao keeps shoving her boobs and butt into Ciel's face... LADY THAT IS A 13 YEAR OLD YOU CANT DO THAT-

I'm glad it wasn't canon because I love Ranmao and she would never do that in canon

Madame Red as the queen of hearts is very cool

Weebalu already mentioned this but I wish J Michael Tatum (Sebastian's dub voice actor) did a Alice In Wonderland audiobook in the Sebastian voice

The one where Ciel puts on a play for hamlet was funny, the part where they're practicing is funny because its like an actual theatre club

Soma and Agni are the kids who are always eating, Ciel is the kid who just sucks at acting, Grell is the one who is great at acting but is very annoying and Sebastian is the theatre teacher who wants to commit kms because of all of these stupid kids

Ranmao is seaweed

Grell tries to commit incest during the play-

The special where its basically a 'behind the scenes' thing kind of like an actor AU

Sebastian is a fucking 2010's boy band looking lad

Grell is just amazing in this

In the final "trailer" Grell got pregnant, Queen Victoria built a giant robot, Claude tried to destroy the world with the fucking moon, Hannah... Uhhh lets not talk about what she did, a whole load of "I am your father" type plot twists took place and Alois was Ciel and Sebastian's great great great great great great grand-

The special where theres this character who's basically a self insert but she's a white girl so if you're not either of those its kind of hard getting into it (cries in gay guy)

The POV shots look like something out of Dora The Explorer

Soma wants to marry us for some reason, I wouldn't mind that he's cute

We also get kidnapped by Viscous Druitt for no reason and then Sebastian and Grell save us from a boat in the middle OF THE OCEAN

Finally Will The Reaper (I'm sure there are more specials but I'm lazy)

Grelliam galore

Probably one of the best specials because Grell and William are the main focus and they're just the absolute best

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

Text

Initial thoughts on QSMP egg cookies (obviously both the system and thoughts will develop over time) (I am somewhere between a crow and a very confused rat, I am biased to certain eggs in certain ways, and I've really been enjoying stuff characters have been up to without the eggs - particularly Phil, but also Pac and Fit dungeon dates - so I was hoping the number of days needed would be reduced so the players could change without eggs to do personal lore or go exploring or building or whatever and the like. I am biased, it's not quite 7am and I was up til gone midnight before I gave up on the streams, disclaimer disclaimed):

Both the concept and the UI are adorable. Especially those happiness bars that's so cute. Can be a bit dark given they're Federation cookies, but it's still very cute.

3 cookies available a day for total of 9 cookies in principle makes it the same as before, buuut if a task is shitty or egg parents are a bit pressed for time they can split it over the week. 9 tasks (presumably) a week is better than 5 a day for 3 days in terms of CCs being able to pace themselves. Especially if there's shit day like the grappling squark day way back.

Cookies can presumably be saved week to week, which is also helpful.

Eggs not needing to be online to do the tasks helpful! Just gotta get online to eat the cookies.

I don't think tasks like "attend an event" or "visit a friend" can work on the new system and that's extremely sad. Maybe it can, but the handing in seems important. Purgatory did have the kills, buuuut going places doesn't have an easy server insides like murder does.

The half points for non-parents is really sad? I actually love babysitting streams and this is going to discourage them so hard. It's also going to cause problems if someone like Fit or Philza or BBH or Foolish ever goes away. Because that's then 6 days to keep each of their eggs alive. 18 cookies.

Limited number of cookies a week is going to cause problems. We know there's an irl meetup at the end of the year. I severely doubt there will be enough people on the server to get 60 cookies (itll be somewhere between 30 and 60, because non-parents only count for half), and I also doubt enough will have been saved up by then. Forcing someone to choose which of the other parents eggs live and die is horrific, and there is no option for them to just spend time grinding the tasks for the other eggs. Also if someone gets sick or something or their computer dies and can't stream? There's not necessarily stuff saved up to help.

Having to save up cookies means no more getting to Friday, seeing egg with no ticks, and grinding Friday-Saturday-Sunday. If you're looking after someone else's egg you now have to start Tuesday, and it's only possible if you don't have your own or you have a backlog. Which nobody does yet. Which sucks because who doesnt love to see a hundred eggies trailing after BBH (or Tazercraft as I recall happened for twitchcon France) while everyone else is at twitchcon?

Tallulah is going to discuss with the other admins her circumstances. So I'll hold speaking about her and Chayanne in terms of future stuff (and I didnt watch to the end of Phil's stream today so I dont know if he gave them the cookies or what, Tallulah did say a placeholder was in place). But also, this was a predictable problem they 100% should have accounted for in advance. Tallulah and Chayanne both having (in practice if not in lore) only one and the same caretaker who streams a limited but precisely known number of days (exactly as many as was required to keep them alive on the old system) should have been accounted for at the point of system creation. I can't see a fix which doesn't either make Phil a massive exception, or force him to put one of his kids up for adoption, and that's unhappy to me. I'm sure theyll think of something, but they should have already thought of it and implimented it before the new system was in place. Tallulah-admmin should have been able to answer Phil's questions about her parental status and how he's going to be able to provide for two eggs.

The above would be less of a problem (still a problem but less of one) without the 0.5 for non-parents rule. But it would still be a problem.

As someone between a crow and a rat, I'm going to be salty. Atm Richas only has Pac, which is fine. But I can see it getting extremely frustrating when Richas has 3 to 5 caretakers over the week all of whom can do his tasks so he can be done in a day and otherwise do fun stuff - and as before his parents can pass him around to work on their stuff - while Philza's back to doing only childcare (I'm sure his lore won't just die to it, but it's going to get pushed aside as are any of the building projects he was considering). Which was always going to happen with eggs back and isn't really a change from before, except that multi-parent eggs can be done in a day. Seeing how full Em's bar was when Phil and his eggs sang by spawn should have been fun, but it just made me feel bitter and I hate that.

Once players run the maths it's going to discourage them from taking time off when they need to, especially the single parents, and I know these are adult professionals with their own lives who can talk to people, but also theyve already proven they're shit at prioritising themselves. The Philza streaming at stupid o'clock in the morning while sick so Chayanne didn't die streams are kinda an excellent example, but also Purgatory (especially Bolas). Like that Philza stream is legendary but is frankly actually horrifying. And the admins know the players pull this shit and /are/ in a position of authority and /do/ have a level of control over not just the players' fun but their livelihoods, and they shouldn't be making it harder.

It's cute, it's adorable, it solves a couple of problems the old system had while introducing massive and predictable new ones. The system doesn't seem to have been thought all the way through or the consequences actually considered which is an oversight not a maliciousness, but much like a buggy or untested video game is much harder to fix after players have gotten their hands on it than before. Much like purgatory whatever they do to fix it is still going to taste bad because the initial release was flawed. Worse, it's going to be massively different reception by different bits of the community, because it's goingto make life a easier for some ccs and harder for others: Fit's only here one more day this week, and is already worried about who can take care of Ramon - he asked Philza who wanted to but can't because he has his own eggs to manage, and I just... that was very unpleasant. Especially with Chayanne writing "we can't let him die" and Philza saying words to the effect of what do you want me to do I don't even know if I can keep both of you alive. Meanwhile Em is already 2/3s done for the week. On Monday. Which in theory means Bagi could look after Ramon, but see the 0.5 and it punishing non-parents for trying to help out!

System makes it significantly easier to keep your kid alive if you're a parent with shared custody (3 parents and you can be done in a day), a little harder for single parents (other people have to work double), and (as currently stands with no super obvious solution) extremely difficult for the single parent with multiple eggs he's the only active parent of.

TBH if a game I was playing added something like this, especially as the player had no idea of the changing rules in advance, I'd fucking leave. It's a massive red flag to me - not of ill intent or a lack of love but of a lack of forethought and such. It'd make a neat special event or whatever, but only if everyone knows and agrees in advance and only if there's not consequences to refusing.

Plot stuff being hidden from players but much like with purgatory players reeeeeally need to be given more mechanical changes info in advance. I would bet if theyd shown these rules to the players in the discord Philza would have gone "what about Tallulah" and Fit would have gone "I've got a trip what about Ramon" and BBH would have gone "hey I've had to semi-regularly solo-parent 5+ eggs because cons and stuff how do I protect them" and this would have been smoothed out. (Maybe a parent can nominate babysitter/s and said babysitter can cash out as many times as they have eggs in their care each day? Idk). But because it got shown to players on screen with these massive holes still there, people (like me) will be salty and it'll never taste good.

#fandom neg #qsmp crit #qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp cookies #These took like an hour and a half blegh #I wish I could think in cute instead rn

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