#Louise Leclerc

[pequenaotaku]

Hello again~

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

(I have to confess that I’ve been stalling on getting back to writing and making my posts, but that’s not the point right now…)

Anyway, these are the Leclerc twins, my other precious girls. I ended up keeping the original base (Nina’s model, made by @candysweetposts), but I completely redid the design (I think the only physical thing I kept was the heterochromia, and even that seems like it went from water to wine).

Currently, the twins live in the center of Amoris, as roommates sharing an apartment. But they were born and raised in the countryside, with very traditional and strict parents. And despite that, or maybe because of it, they always attended schools in the city, no matter how long and exhausting the trips were every day. They definitely don’t miss that time at all.

Speaking of nostalgia though… High school was, without a doubt, a very impactful time in their minds, full of drama, discoveries, and teenage hormones. It was at the peak of her 16 years that Lilian discovered and accepted herself as a woman, and also fell in love for the first time. It was at the peak of her 16 years that Louise realized what she wanted to do for the rest of her life as the troublemaker she always was, though secretly.

Going back to the initial train of thought, the two moved back in together after Dante’s life was cut short by that tragic accident. Louise wanted to comfort her sister, to stay as close as possible to help her through her grieving period. Two years later, Lilian discovered, with frustration, that time doesn’t heal any pain, it only softens it. She’s generally doing well, has moved on like anyone else would have, had to piece herself back together, but she’s not thinking of finding someone else to love anytime soon; she still occasionally sees ghosts from the past. They continue to live together because they’ve gotten used to each other’s presence again—it’s fun and makes things lighter.

Lilian Leclerc

She is 30 years old.

She is exactly 7 minutes and 38 seconds older.

She pursues a career as an interior designer at a company that emerged in the field a few years ago called Essence Intérieure (EI).

She is a transgender woman.

She realized she was trans after a prank that happened in high school. It was a themed event where boys had to dress as girls and girls had to dress as boys. In other words, crossdressing. It was something really silly and simple, but after the party, alone in her room while looking at herself in the mirror with a pretty wig and some clothes borrowed from her sister, things started to make sense.

Because they were very traditional, it was a mess when her parents accidentally found out—almost like a war. Louise, who had already talked to her sister after catching her posing in front of the mirror, fought in Lilian’s defense. The two even ran away from home for a week, hiding out in an abandoned building nearby until they were found and dragged back home. Their father, Anton, was so devastated by their disappearance that he realized what was more important, and it didn’t take long for him to try to approach, understand, and accept her, fortunately. Lurdette, their mother, still insists on calling her by her deadname, though. Even though it’s hard to endure, she followed her father’s advice to ignore these slights to avoid big fights until both of them were old enough to leave home properly. In the end, she knows it could have been much worse.

She has a more peaceful, sweeter personality. Sometimes, she spends too much time lost in her own little world, but she’s very dedicated, persistent, and has a good touch with people.

She’s always had a melancholic look, whether before or after her mourning. At the same time, her heterochromia always gave her a different kind of glow. Dante used to call her Lys Stellaire, or Stellar Lily, because it seemed like her eyes held the cold beauty of sideral space, and that was the first thing he fell in love with.

She loves soft, light colors like baby pink and baby blue, egg-yolk yellow, but mostly white.

She does gardening in her free time; in fact, she’s not sure if she loves the flowers or the bees more.

Speaking of animals, when Dante was killed, one of her concerns was who would take care of his two pets, Nova and Nebula. At the time, the couple lived together, so she was already used to the two snakes, although she wasn’t the one responsible for feeding them, cleaning the terrarium, helping with shedding, etc. She had never had much courage for that, being afraid of getting bitten even though she knew they were tame and non-venomous. However, after what happened, she forced herself to learn everything she needed to be a good caretaker. She was sure that if Colette, her sister-in-law, became the new caretaker, she’d do a good job too, but she didn’t want the snakes to go through the stress of a new routine. Honestly, she has no idea how a snake’s emotional state works, or even if they have one, but she likes to think that every now and then, they wonder where their dad is and miss him.

As mentioned before, Lilian and Colette grew much closer after the tragedy. Colette really sees her as an older sister. She makes a point of visiting her practically every weekend, and they always have video calls to gossip about the strange customers she’s dealt with at the record store. Very specific, I know.

Louise Leclerc

She is 30 years old.

She is exactly 7 minutes and 38 seconds younger.

She works doing odd jobs, mostly as a hobby, because she loves trying new things. She’s been a pizza delivery girl, an aspiring doll stylist, a waterslide tester, a fortune cookie writer, a Zumba teacher, a skydiving instructor, and many other exotic jobs like that. But in reality, she’s an ethical hacker by passion. She works within the law, as strange or curious as that might seem. She basically mitigates company vulnerabilities, investigates incidents, and develops secure software for computer systems, networks, and applications. A bit of boring office work sometimes—why not?

Unlike her sister, she has a more chaotic and bold personality, always trying out new things. She’s extroverted, communicative, and often quarrelsome.

She loves dressing in things that reference the '80s for some reason. Brighter colors, exaggerated accessories, a much more extravagant fashion, but adapted to modern times. She even likes to say that those who criticize '80s fashion lack a distinctive artistic sense.

She loves summer, loves organizing trips to the beach with the most important people in her life, and enjoys building sandcastles.

She drives a Beetle.

She’s a very free-spirited person and has had several flings, but no serious relationships in recent years. She’s quite happy with that, for now.

She would love to have a dog, specifically a Labrador, but unfortunately, she’s allergic to animal fur.

Out of curiosity, here is the prototype of the twins before the renovation as a bonus.

[charles-jpg]

a new year, to begin again | charles leclerc

[leclerking]

This one's for the directioners x f1blr!

Tell me these two pictures don't have the same vibe!!

[starkwlkr]

iconic | charles leclerc

Liked by Pierregasly, masonmount and 879,276 others

y/nleclerc meet ruby jules louise leclerc. but in my heart she will always be baby leclerc

Comments on this post have been disabled

Liked by lorenzotl, georgerussell63 and 1,748,309 others

charles_leclerc this is ruby jules. she’s on a phone ban forever.

lorenzotl free my niece!!

arthur_leclerc she actually knows how to film. give my compliments to my favorite niece!!

charles_leclerc she still says pierre is her favorite

arthur_leclerc one day she won’t say that

y/nleclerc i made a wholesome post and you did this?

charles_leclerc mine is way better because now everyone will know that we have a funny daughter

view all 4,378 comments

[lenoraah]

𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙮

-pairing - dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

-summary - charles and reader decide that it is the perfect day to spend time with their two daughters at the beach

-author’s note - daughters’ names; juliana (3) louise (9 months)

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Y/n smiles as she watches her husband holding their two children close to him. Charles is propped up against a chair under the white and blue umbrella that they set up a couple hours ago. Louise is sitting on his lap while Juliana is leaning on against her father’s shoulder.

Y/n hides her smile behind the book she’s reading. She has her wet hair put up in a clip and one of Charles’s sweatshirts pulled over her body.

Eventually, Juliana gets bored of lingering around her father and wanders to her mother. Y/n smiles, letting her daughter crawl into her lap, sheltering her with her arms.

Louise smiles at her mother from her father’s arms and reaches for her. Charles follows his daughter’s small hands to his wife and sighs as both his girls abandon him. He reluctantly hands her over with a smile.

Y/n sets her book away and holds Louise is her arms, her small head resting on her mother’s shoulder. Charles smiles, looking at his wife and two children. He soon settles next Y/n, laying beside her and their children.

Charles plays with Juliana’s light brown hair as she begins to babble on about something that doesn’t truly interest him but he still listens. Y/n smiles leaning down to kiss her husband on the cheek.

The two of them hold their children close to them as they smile at each other. They know Juliana and Louise might not remember this day but they will never forget the memories.

[agendabymooner]

of long lines and names || cl16 fic

charles leclerc x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

Summary: Aimee Yael and Charles Leclerc are too young to have five kids under six, but those boys became the life and memories that the couple wanted to keep forever. OR a series of scenarios during Aimee’s pregnancies that Charles remembered the most.

Content warning: Pregnancies with twins/five kids, dad!Charles and the grid uncles, based on Charles’ long name, a crying Charles, mentions of Anthoine Hubert, Niki Lauda, Jules Bianchi and the Leclerc dad (nothing too graphic nor personal, mostly based on their names only), loss/grief, Toto being a d-bag for a moment, possible use of explicit language, family-centric/dad!Charles-centric content, mentions of other Hearth sisters children (Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen)

Note: This will be a flop but I love these fictional Hearth-Leclerc kids. I love all of their kids! In fact, I have a series of spreadsheets dedicated to the Hearth sisters, and other characters and the names of their babies. Enjoy xx

masterlist

2024 — Hervé Louis Sebastien René Mathieu and Jules Lorenzo Blaise Pascal Timothé Leclerc

Aimee Yael Edmunson (Hearth) had never been stressed before. She had no reason to be. As a woman from a wealthy family — the granddaughter of Scottish billionaires and a daughter of an FIA executive — she had no reason to stress over the little things that were in the area of her control. Like her half-sisters, she had the money and intelligence to handle things well.

All except for the two little things in her womb that were continuously developing as the fourth month of her pregnancy went on. It was hard to hide it from everyone if you were to ask her. She had already spoken to her mother about carrying this amount of children in one go— Amara Louise Edmunson had only given birth to one child, and it was her. Nobody knew the struggle, but her mother had comforted her as much as she could. 

Aimee was calm despite the disaster that happened to be an unplanned pregnancy, her rational mind thinking that she shouldn’t be in some form of distress or discomfort to avoid any complications in her body. 

Her boyfriend, Charles Leclerc, thought otherwise.

When her body hit the ninth-week mark, there was already a tiny bump that someone might have seen as bloated. A natural one, no? But Charles was known to overthink things, and when he somehow got his prediction right, he had never cried so hard about having not only one— but two kids. He cried as if he was the one with the uncontrollable hormones. Aimee watched him cry empathetically, feeling grateful that she didn’t have this much anxiety that could risk her health and her babies. Still, she wondered if the tears he shredded were tears of joy or something else. 

Charles said he was happy, but at the same time, he thought of how their families would react— minus Pascale, Blanche and Amara.

When her body hit the seventeenth-week mark, they couldn’t hide it from their families any longer, hosting a dinner at their home in Monaco where Aimee did all of the cooking. Everything she made were cravings that became stronger as her first few weeks of pregnancy went on—rice, pasta and somehow a good selection of desserts and pastries that Charles ordered before the dinner. 

Welcoming each family member into the house wasn’t the most significant part of the dinner. The maternal figures of Charles and Aimee’s lives — Pascale, Amara and Blanche Ford — were on standby just in case someone decided to act differently towards the two. 

Stevie and Lewis Hamilton were clearly (too obviously) shocked at the protrusion in Aimee’s stomach but hadn’t made any comment on it for a while. They merely spoke about their daughter Lottie, who would cuddle with Roscoe whenever her little crawling body approached him. They were talking about their child, all while their eyes peered down on Aimee’s growing body. 

Sylvie and her fiancé Max Verstappen were surprised. Still, the model had managed to pass off her shock as excitement over the invitation to the couple’s new home before she tried to maneuver through the huge bump in the road— or rather, in Aimee’s body. Max tried asking Pascale and Amara about it by mouthing, “Is she actually?” only to receive a glare from them. Blanche scolded him quietly to keep it shut while she served him a drink. 

Charles dreaded inviting his brothers into his new home because they always picked their timing. When Arthur and Lorenzo Leclerc saw Aimee’s bulging figure, they immediately turned away and snorted aloud. Charles wasn’t this anxious about anything as exciting as this, but Arthur’s offhanded comment, “I’ll be attending your funeral when Toto finds out,” definitely had him recoiling. Pascale had to smack both her other children for scaring Charles off. Aimee nearly cried on the spot when Arthur made the joke, to which Charles returned to his composure and glared at his youngest brother for making her feel so shitty. 

The mentioned man and his wife were met at the front by the three maternal figures. Toto Wolff wasn’t typically this intimidated. He was usually level-headed, but how they stared at him while they welcomed the couple left him asking what was happening. Tilly seemed to sense some sort of protectiveness towards whatever it was, and when she had gotten a glimpse of it, her eyes sparkled at the sight of Charles’ hand over her little sister’s stomach. She wordlessly grinned before tugging her husband down on a seat right across the two. 

Toto couldn’t say a word if he were being truthful. The moment his eyes settled on the bulging stomach, his glare toward the Monegasque driver hardened. This was Toto’s nightmare, but it wasn’t as if he could just say that in front of the most overprotective women to have existed. So he threatened Charles wordlessly, passing words back and forth with other people while he glared at the Ferrari driver whenever he piped up. 

“So…” Toto started after finishing what seemed to be his second wine of the night. “Aimee, you’re pregnant. How long?” 

“Uh,” Aimee shifted uncomfortably, scared even to look Toto in the eyes. “Seven- seventeen weeks.”

“She’s seventeen weeks and four days—“ Charles was thrilled. He was. But the stare that Toto gave him immediately had his mouth shut as he looked back and only settled to hold his girlfriend’s hands underneath the table. “Four days,” he murmured to himself. 

“So explain how,” Lorenzo started but had given up halfway through, gesturing at Aimee’s stomach, “how has she grown this much if she’s only that much?”

“Yeah, about that,” Charles’ grin widened continuously as he announced, “We’re having twins.”

Aimee and Charles’ siblings were cheering for the couple as a series of hollering escaped their mouths. Pascale, Blanche and Amara were grinning from ear to ear while Toto… he was a man that was hard to please.

“Two?” Toto uttered, already pouring himself another glass of cabernet sauvignon. “And you two are… getting married?”

“What?” Arthur blurted out with an incredulous look, shooting in Toto’s direction. Sylvie and Stevie looked at each other, asking themselves, ‘what the fuck is he on?’ 

“Uh no,” Charles nervously laughed, but no one seemed to understand the memo when Toto glared at him as the Monegasque muttered, “but I suppose this is a wrong answer to say aloud.” 

“We’re not going to get hitched,” Aimee laughed in confusion, “why do we have to?”

“Because you’re pregnant?”

“Do we have to get married?” Aimee looked at Tilly for some help.

Tilly, sensing the discomfort from the pregnant woman, reached to pinch her husband in his side, eliciting a groan from him as she glared, “No, you don’t have to.” 

“Yeah, you don’t,” Sylvie glared at Toto. “Tils and Toto didn’t get married until Tia came along.” 

“So, you’re just going to be waiting for the fourth child to be out until you marry?” Arthur asked bluntly, leaving him to cower when Stevie, Lorenzo and Sylvie shot him a look of annoyance. “Oh mon dieu, je pose juste une question.” Oh my god, I’m just asking a question. 

Toto wasn’t sold at the thought of his youngest in-law being pregnant with another driver’s children. He’d seen Stevie get married off to his own driver, Lewis, and it still never sat right with him to witness them being married or having a family with some men. Charles could agree on the same thing, because if his hypothetical daughter was to be courted and even have a boyfriend he wasn’t sure how he would act either. 

He didn’t think that he would have the same problem with vice versa until he found out that Aimee was carrying two boys. He wondered how to prevent them from having girlfriends or boyfriends at an early age because he was certain that Aimee would just play mother of the groom on the pretend wedding that the boys would have at a young age. 

But his worries withered away when he held Hervé and Jules for the first time. He could still remember realizing how strong they were from the grip they had on his fingers. He could still remember the sight of Aimee crying after she introduced them to their father— not wanting to see Charles cry again due to the tribute that she had given to Charles’ family that passed years ago.

Perhaps it was a good idea that she did the crying this time; she deserved it after watching him have a breakdown over the little things that he didn’t need to worry about — and Charles needed to have the backbone for thinking himself as a shitty father for his unborn children. 

“What’re their names?” Esteban almost laughed after seeing Charles stare at Pierre mindlessly. It really wasn’t a good idea for Gasly to have Charles repeat the babies’ names all over again especially when the Monegasque was way too tired for his friends’ bullshit.

Mick kicked Pierre lightly with a hush, rocking the baby in his arms as he quietly asked, “Do you not listen or do you just live to piss your best friend off?”

Charles glared at Pierre, whose smile stood out as he giggled. Scoffing quietly, Charles gestured to the boy in his arm, “Jules Lorenzo Blaise Pascal Timothé.”

Then he nudged his head at Mick’s direction before he introduced the other twin, “and the boy in Mick’s hold is Hervé Louis Sebastien René Mathieu.”

“Sorry, I didn’t listen, Shal can you—“ 

“Oh my fucking god. Shut the fuck up, Pierre.”

“I’m kidding,” Pierre snorted as he quietly cackled. “What do you call them though?” 

2026 — Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe Leclerc

Torger Wolff promised that he wasn’t going to squash Charles Leclerc’s head until it popped once that Hervé and Jules Leclerc were born. 

He loved his nephews after all and spoiled them as much as their Uncle Toto could. He made sure the boys had their bunk beds prepared at the Wolff home in Monaco or England just in case they came for a sleepover with his son Adelmo and his niece Lottie Hamilton — who were just about the same age as the twins. He spoiled them equally. 

But god, was he ever ready to get rid of their Da the moment he received a text from the Monegasque with the words, “She’s pregnant.” 

“Morning, Sainz, is your stupid teammate in the office?” Toto didn’t even listen to the Spanish man’s answer as he continued to make his way to Fred Vasseur’s in-site office at the Scuderia Ferrari area. “Charles Leclerc! I’ve warned you once—“

The Ferrari team principal turned to look at the entryway of his office with a scowl, crossing his arms in annoyance. Toto wasn’t even in his team’s area and he was still acting like he shouldn’t have to knock at the damn door. The man that he was addressing, however, was teary eyed when he turned to look at Toto. 

“Is this your third or fourth?” Toto asked, still glaring at the Monegasque. 

“Third,” Charles wanted to smile but the last thing he wanted to do was die in this damn motorhome. In the hands of Toto Wolff, of all people.

“And no ring?” Toto then found him holding whatever in his hand, peering down as his mouth opened slightly. 

In Charles’ hand was a gold ring, ruby sitting on top of it as he clutched on it tightly. It wasn’t just a gold ring. From what Toto had learned, it was Aimee’s grandmother’s engagement ring. 

“I was— proposing to her—“ Charles sobbed quietly, a smile now resting on his face as he begged himself not to ugly cry in front of the Mercedes team principal. “Then she said Herb and J were going to be big brothers. I was on my knees, Toto! I promise! I want to propose first but she just spewed that— oh god, I have three children now.” It didn’t even dawn on him that he was about to have three under five until he cut himself off. 

Then he was just crying hysterically in the middle of the office with Carlos barging in frantically. “What the hell, Charles?! Are you okay?” 

Toto smiled proudly at the Monegasque driver, clapping him on the back before he shrugged at Carlos Sainz and Fred. “Don’t worry about him,” Toto replied quietly to the other men, “he’s having his third child, that's all.”

Carlos and Fred were confused and scared. They weren’t sure if it was because of Charles’ breakdown on the floor of the Ferrari team principal’s office or if it was because of Toto’s calm demeanour. But regardless, if Toto said not to worry, then so be it. 

Baby Boy Leclerc was written on his little hospital bassinet. But Toto got the first glimpse of his birth certificate. 

Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe Leclerc.

Toto had no reason to be upset. He wasn’t. He was just as equally as annoyed at himself when he realized how overprotective he was when it came to Aimee - who, as of this point, had already given birth to her third baby. He had no reason to be protective especially when she was doing a damn good job at protecting her two children. Now, he had the chance to witness her protect Sacha — the boy that they named after Niki Lauda, who happened to be close to the Hearth sisters before he passed. 

Like Tilly’s second pregnancy, Aimee and Charles welcomed their son to the world with wedding bands in their fingers. Pierre almost had a stroke watching Charles boast about his wife and their third son— but the final nail in the coffin had something to do with Sacha Leclerc having Pierre as a namesake. It wasn’t everyday Pierre got to pass out over such a small thing— but to be a namesake and named the godfather of the child? Yeah, Pierre Gasly would boast about him too. 

Arriving back home was easy. However, according to the Leclerc children’s grid uncles, writing down the boy’s name into the banner (which said, “Welcome Baby Sacha Niki Pierre Phi—(with a gap) lippe”) was quite complicated. They had done a good job with the twins’ welcome banner two years ago, but according to them their handwriting got too sloppy. 

Lando groaned quietly, “Don’t give them such a long name next time. Look at Max! His name is just Max.” 

Max Verstappen reached for a balloon on the floor before hitting Lando with it, “It’s a Leclerc thing to give them six names, of course they have to have the long name.”

“Oi, don’t make fun of my name,” Charles called out from the kitchen, pouring his two boys some glasses of apple juice the toddlers babbled in protest against their Uncle Max’s response. “Even H and J aren’t happy with what you said. You’re not being kind to your own nephews the more you make fun of me.” 

Pierre chuckled, sitting next to Aimee as she fed Sacha. The Frenchman said, “I’m so convinced that those two are Charles’ minis.” 

“They are becoming more like their Da as days go on,” Aimee pulled her tank top’s strap back on and began to burp Sacha. “I’m so outnumbered as of this point.”

“Baby PJ’s going to be like his Oncle Pierre, I can tell you that much,” Pierre smugly said, reaching out to caress Sacha’s cheek as he said, “I’ll be his big mentor and I’ll make sure his Da doesn’t have much influence on him.”

“His name is Sacha, Pierre,” Aimee rolled her eyes. Pierre, from the moment he was told of Sacha’s full name, had decided that the baby’s nickname was PJ — or Pierre Junior. He hadn’t even held the baby yet when he walked in the room but he had already staked his claim and declared Sacha as a Mini Pierre. “And you said the same thing to Herb and Jules when you met them, look how they turned out. They’re so much like Charles.”

“We all have our trials and errors,” Pierre mumbled, “and you know what they say— third times a charm. Maybe PJ will be the same.”

2029 — Anthoine Charles Elio Perceval and Alain Marc Léonard Arthur Leclerc

“You have quite some swimmers,” Pierre cackled hysterically, slapping Charles in the chest as he tried to get his shit together instead of laughing at the fact that his best friend has five children under seven. He really couldn’t when he had to remind himself that Aimee had given birth to another set of twins just a day ago. 

Charles began to curse at him in French, already exasperated after the long night that Aimee had. She had a labour that lasted longer than the previous pregnancies that she went through and it annoyed her more than it made things painful. Charles’ five year olds and his three year old son were fussing about not being around their mother for longer than two minutes and were already on the way to the hospital with their Mamé Pascale and Mamma Blanche, eager to meet their little brothers. 

Pierre, Max, Lewis, and Mick were all standing in front of the glass window of the hospital nursery with Charles, eyes all trained on the twin boys that slept peacefully alongside other infants. Charles never wondered, but he was always surprised that Aimee was this strong to even give birth to five of their children— fuck that, she had given birth to five of his boys. He couldn’t even find himself to swear to his best friend when he was too busy loving the shit out of his newborn sons. His boys. 

On the men’s left was Anthoine Charles Elio Perceval, whose personality was already showing by the way his resting face wrinkles to a scowl. Pierre couldn’t afford to cry over the tribute to their friend who passed years ago that all he did was laugh at his best friend’s experiences in fatherhood. He could just cry later on, the Frenchman told himself while he continued to pester Charles about his five sons. 

Next to Anthoine’s bassinet was Alain Marc Léonard Arthur, whose soft smile had the men outside the nursery melting as he cooed softly and shifted around. Charles and the others could tell that out of the two of them, Alain would be the one to stop the Ferrari driver from ripping his hair out.

Anthoine would most likely give Charles a run for his money and raise hell with Hervé and Jules. 

Alain would be the one to be as angelic as PJ — whose nickname stuck after Pierre continued to visit the boys every other week — and his mother Aimee, whose youthful glow remained despite entering her motherhood five years ago. Aimee wasn’t that outnumbered after all.

Max scoffed next to Pierre, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you hadn’t known anything about protection.”

“I’ve had practices,” Pierre winked at Max, making the Dutchman grimace. “Just no luck yet. It’s not as if I’m shaming Charles for it.”

“Five kids are better than none,” Lewis shrugged, still looking at the twins on the other side of the window. “How you’ve done it— fuckin’ beats me— but I sure as hell am jealous.”

“Never hurts to try for one more,” Charles chuckled. “You really think Lottie and Leland would be satisfied to have each other? It doesn’t really make a good playhouse squad.”

Lewis huffed, “They’ve already got your boys, Adelmo and Max’s Millie. I don’t think Steve would appreciate having to push out one more.”

“What about you, Max?” Mick joked before nudging the Dutchman with a smirk. “Opting for one more?” 

“I’ve got a girl,” Max deadpanned, “and I’ve another one on the way. I’m not the kind to be greedy but I think Millia and Lila would make good big sisters to a little brother, don’t you think?”

“Are you two settling for the little girl’s name then?” Pierre asked. “Lila?” 

“Poor Sylvie doesn’t even have a child named after her,” Mick laughed. 

“She named our daughter Emilia,” Max defended himself, “I didn’t ask her to name the girl Emilia. She just said it’s too damn pretty.”

“Besides, Max isn’t really known for giving things good names,” Lewis teased. “Last I checked he wanted to call Emilia ‘Jane’.” 

“Fuck off, Sylvie loves Jane Austen,” Max scoffed, shoving Lewis slightly when the British man laughed. “Besides, her name would have been Blue or something.”

“All jokes aside,” Lewis paused before clapping Charles on the back. “I’m pumped to see your bunch hanging out with their cousins. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Four months,” Max murmured. “It’s been four months for all of us.”

“I know,” Charles rolled his eyes. “H and Jules are looking forward to the Australian GP— they’ve been wanting to wreak havoc in the paddock since Abu Dhabi.”

“Those kids of yours need to lose that energy,” Pierre chuckled. “Have you ever taken them for a walk?” 

“I always take them out for a walk,” Charles muttered. They just have a bad habit of running away from their Da. All the freaking time.

Speaking of.

“Da!” 

“Look at those little devils go,” Pierre and the other men turned to the direction of the sound of running feet, hoisting little PJ up in his arms while the eldest Leclerc children ran towards their father, who had immediately lifted them up and pressed a kiss on their cheeks. 

“Where are they? Where are they?” Hervé and Jules tried to keep their voices down, as they were told by their Mamé before they entered the hospital— begging their dad to show them the newborn babies as he pointed through the window.

“Oncle P,” Sacha reached for his godfather’s scruffy face as he murmured, “où est Maman?” Where’s mom? 

“Elle dort comme un bébé,” She’s sleeping like a baby. Pierre whispered to the boy, now pointing to the babies as he continued, “Like your little brothers.”

“Mm? Mais il ne dort pas,” But he’s not sleeping. Sacha pointed at the baby to the right. “He’s no sleeping?”

“He looks like you, Da. Look,” Jules pointed and said in awe while grinned at his father. “And he does too!” 

“He’s like me and Jules!” Hervé exclaimed in amusement. “They look the same, Da!” 

“Yes they do,” Charles grinned, “because they’re like you two. Twins!” 

“How come I don’t have twin?” Sacha asked, slumping against his Oncle Pierre. Max and Lewis turned to the boy and offered him a soft smile. 

Mick then reached out, “It’s better that you don’t,” he joked, “you’re one of a kind, little PJ.” 

“But he won’t have any driving partner for Ferrari?” Hervé protested in annoyance. Charles laughed at this. His sons were born to be Ferrari drivers, said once by Sebastian Vettel. They were born to a Ferrari driving father and a mother who worked for McLaren. Even the amount of papaya outfit never stopped the Leclerc children from aspiring to become the Prancing Horse’s next generation of drivers. 

All but one. Sacha turned to look at his eldest brothers and said, “Me and L’land are driving for Mercedes!” 

“No! You’re driving for ‘Rari, ‘member, PJ?” 

“Mummy said I can drive for anyone,” Sacha pulled himself away from Pierre’s chest for a second to cross his arms, pouting at his eldest brothers. “I wan’ drive for ‘Cedes!” 

Lewis looked at Charles with approval all over his face, obviously cocky at the statement made by the three year old.

“You don’t want to drive for Alpine like your Oncle P?” Pierre asked, goading his godson into joining his team.

“Hm, maybe! But I wanna be like Uncle Lew and Da!” 

“Mon chou, you are like Da,” Charles grinned widely. “You and your brothers are mini Charles.” 

Seeing his sons now — the two that he held in his arms, the toddler that Pierre had on his own pair and the other two that were just born yesterday — had him thinking about the importance of their names and their existence. Charles didn’t seem to think of himself as someone so sentimental, but his life with Aimee seemed to change his viewpoint. He valued his family more than he did before. 

He didn’t care much about carrying the family name as long as he could remember where his sons’ names came from. 

If his eldest asked, he was more than willing to tell them a story about how Hervé and Jules got their names from their late grandpa and uncle. If PJ asked, then Charles and Aimee would sit him down to tell the boy about Aimee’s Uncle Niki and great grandfather Philip Hearth. And someday when his youngest grew curious, he’d tell them all about Charles’ good friend Anthoine and a French driving legend named Alain Prost. 

He’d sit them all down to let them know about the people that he and Aimee loved and how they loved to keep their memories alive through the boys. 

But for now, Charles Leclerc was quite content with nurturing his boys with his wife. He was only looking forward to caring for Aimee Leclerc and their children. Then maybe someday, the Leclerc bunch would grow to care for their mother too.

[myoddessy]

CONEY ISLAND | cl16 —THE PRELUDE.

series masterlist

summary —an article on y/n l/n and all that entails.

WHO IS Y/N L/N? by Louise Kelly

April 29th 2017.

By now, everyone and their mother has heard the name Y/n L/n. With the awards and the acclaims, it's a surprise to find that she isn't an old Hollywood legend, but instead an 19 year old girl with raw, unfiltered talent.

Although, as brilliant as L/n's work is, many fans and followers have noticed a distinct pattern in her projects: she releases something legendary (i.e. an Academy Award for directing after her debut, topping charts with her first album, etc.) and ghosts all media for six months minimum before returning with another knockout. This reputation has lead many tabloids and reporters to refer to her as "Star" an abbreviated version of what was "The Shooting Star" in reference to the fleeting moments of brightness of her career.

Many people over the years have speculated that this nature has been brought on by a lack of media privacy, as paparazzi and obsessive fans alike tracked her down and documented what was near to her every move in the two years before she began her complete media lockdown—outside of promotions, of course.

Due to this private nature of hers, there's a lot of room for speculation when it comes to her life—something news outlets and tabloids such as enews and entertainment weekly have taken advantage of too many times to count over the years by starting rumors and spreading gossip through clickbaited headlines.

In fact, most things people have come to know for certain about the young woman are through speeches she makes or posts from her friends and family's accounts.

In her 2013 Oscar acceptance speech, she went out of her way to thank her mother and brothers, saying they were the only reason she was standing there and their support meant more than any award ever could. Since then, she's never skipped a chance to praise and credit them for her success.

She has also spoken very fondly of her boyfriend and racing car driver, Charles Leclerc, with whom she's been dating for little over three years and grew up living beside. While she does not credit him by name in her speeches, she often dedicates her awards to "her love". Because of this, most information on the pair's relationship has come through both party's instagram accounts, and the accounts of their friends.

Y/n's closest friend, Amalie Billard, has been the public's window into the life of L/n, sharing sweet and funny moments through Instagram stories and posts. Amalie herself is a photographer who grew up with Y/n and has worked closely with her since an internship and ELLE magazine two years ago. Y/n has been the subject of a vast majority of Billard's work and has said that she "feels more comfortable around Amalie than she has with anyone else in the industry and treasures that bond greatly."

Gossip and drama aside, Y/n has build up an impressive reputation in the world's of cinema and music. She has won a total of 5 Academy Awards; Best Leading Actress (2012), Best Supporting actress (2014), Best Leading Actress (2016), Best Director (2017), Best Supporting Actress (2017). And has one 4 Grammys for her music; Pop Solo Performance (2014), Pop Vocal Album (2014), New Artist (2014), Best Alternative Music Album (2017).

She's been praised by some of Hollywood's greatest over the years for both her work ethic and work itself. "She's an incredibly talented young woman who has the sort of grace you'd see in Old Hollywood and the humour you wish you'd see in everyone now. She's truly a great role model for all—young and old." Said Meryl Streep in an interview for "Call for me", a film that she and Y/n starred in in 2015.

taglist— @whoetoshaw @formula-hamilton @lilsiz @sad1esgf @deviltsunoda @tall-tanned-tattoo @briboweee @uh-oh-spaghetti-oh-my-gosh @meetmeaftersix

if you would like to be tagged in future series parts, either comment, dm me, or send a message into my inbox! 💞💞

[nesiacha]

Tribute to all these revolutionary women coming from the overseas departments and Haiti who fought at risk of their lives for their freedoms and forgotten even more than the women of the French revolution in metropolitan France already well despised.

In this post, although there are many of them, I will cite two of them, I will perhaps write a more detailed post when I have time because it is shameful that these women are not better known: -Sanité Bélair: Lieutenant of Toussaint Louverture, considered the soul of the conspiracy, particularly with her husband Charles Belair and fighter against Leclerc. She was captured, sentenced to death and shot. She showed great courage during her execution like many of her peers. She died but not her ideals and became a great symbol She is considered one of the great heroines of Haiti's fight for independence alongside Catherine Flon, Cecile Faitman and Dédée Bazile. On the Guadeloupe side we have Rosalie alias Solitude, whose historian Mathilde Larrère has written a magnificent article that I invite everyone to read. This woman had joined the community of "maroons". While she was a few months pregnant, she fought against the reestablishment of slavery. Captured, she will be executed like so many others after giving birth. When will there be more tribute to these women by exploring these parts of France? Personally I prefer a hundred (or even a thousand) times more to pay homage to them than Napoleon, who in my opinion, if he survived, failed as emperor, where the people I cited who died for their ideas had a posthumous victory. on the abolition of slavery and the independence of Haiti). Frankly beside the point when we are presented with Madame de Stael or Louise de Prussia as the only female figures standing against Napoleon, I am very sorry that they make a very pale figure regarding the women mentioned earlier (I am not saying that in a goal to clash with Louise of Prussia and Madame de Stael but rather the "thinkers" we can see in media, movie, who voluntarily cite only them to obscure the others because they believe that we can judge Napoleon magnanimously on what he did concerning slavery and do not focus only on the Europe part or worst to the goal to justify the horrors that France did to Guadeloupeans, Reunionese, Haitians, etc, or to the thinkers who only believe in white feminism, etc…).

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles Leclerc

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 7/? Word count: 1362 Co writer: @mistrose23 Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 5. Danish Standards

Matilde was glad she had a moment for herself after a long day full of media duties. Usually, the Thursdays were easy on her. But this year... She was still trying to figure out how to deal with it. She was quite a social person, however, socialising for hours was asking for a lot of her energy. The last meeting had just finished and the track was open to the employees, so Matilde took her shot and decided to go for a track walk. Only to find out she had forgotten her earphones to listen to a podcast. She recently started to listen to 'Help I Sexted My Boss', it was a great podcast by William Hanson and Jordan North to just laugh and think about nothing but the bizarre things they tell. She also loved Leo Skepi, he was teaching about self transformation, but Matilde just loved his energy. But whenever she didn't want to be thinking about serious things, she would listen to William and Jordan.

"Hej," a manly voice said when Matilde just entered the first corner of the track.

Matilde looked next to her and raised her eyebrows, but quickly politely smiled when she noticed it was Haas' driver Kevin Magnussen. "Hej," she replied, slightly confused. It was not like they didn't know each other, they are both Danish and they both work within Formula 1, but they barely spoke to each other.

"This will probably sound weird," Kevin began and joined her for her walk. "By the way, do you mind if I join you?"

"No, please join me."

"Okay, well, hear me out. Louise, my wife, and I went to a birthday party last week. It was the birthday of her best friend and I know her husband. We met a couple of years ago and we hang out regurlarly. His name is Lars Jørgensen. And your last name is Jørgensen. Do you know someone called Lars Jørgensen?"

The eyes of Matilde lightened up. "The teacher?"

"The teacher..." Kevin slowly said, understanding that Matilde knew Lars Jørgensen.

"Yes, that is my brother."

He shook his head and chuckled. "The bastard." He looked at the Danish woman. "It sounds so stupid, but he always spoke about his little sister, living in England, working with cars. He never said it was you, not even last week. And I didn't make the connection until... Literally five minutes ago."

A laugh rolled over Matilde's lips. "It's a small world," she said, still smiling. "But it's quite a known and popular name. I'm surprised we never saw each other at Lene's birthday, like never before."

"Well, we probably did see each other, but didn't realise."

"But it's not like you are an upcoming driver."

"True, unlike you. Honestly, before this season, I never heard of you. Well, not within the motorsport."

"Fair." Matilde realised how nice it was to have a conversation in Danish. Being surrounded by Italian people, or Italian speaking people, was tiring. She was still learning the language and the people in her team barely spoke English. And no one spoke in her mother language.

He was silent for a moment. "I can't process this," he said and chuckled. "Lene and Louise are best friends. Why did Lars never say a word?"

Matilde threw her hands up in the air and laughed. "I have no idea. I mean, he is quite private about his personal life. But other than that, I have no clue."

"Well, I guess we can't blame him now," Kevin laughed. "It's a small world, and yet sometimes connections slip through the cracks."

"It does," she agreed.

They continued walking along the track. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the asphalt, and a gentle breeze rustled over the circuit. While they spoke about their friends and family, Matilde glanced around, taking in the ambience. They both enjoyed the talk, it was about everything but work. It was pleasant to have a talk in your native language, regardless of the person. And the fact that they have a common connection, an important connection, made it even more fun.

When they arrived at the fake harbour, they stumbled against another connection they both had, but didn't know of. Kevin's whistle drew the attention of a runner passing by.

"Bill!"

The runner looked over his shoulder and turned around to run towards them. "Nå, hva 'så?" Asking what was up. He stopped in front of the two people. "What's going on here then?" A playful glint came in his eyes.

"Just two Danes taking a walk on the track," Kevin replied. "Do you know-"

Billi raised an eyebrow, pretending to look scandalised. "A walk?"

"Ah, crap, you caught us. We're actually secret track inspectors, making sure everything is up to Danish standards," Matilde joined the jesting.

"Ah, of course," Billi sagely nodded. "Very important work."

Kevin looked between Matilde and Billi. "Anyway, Bill, Matilde. Matilde, Bill."

Matilde shared a smile with Billi, the good looking Latvian doctor on the medical team, who also happened to speak Danish. The man had deep blue eyes, his beard was trimmed and he just had a haircut. The t-shirt around his torso was slightly too tight, defining his muscles even more. And Matilde knew him too well.

"Come here," Billi said and widened his arms.

Matilde raised her eyebrows. "I will pass, Billi. I'm not waiting for the sweat shower," she widely smiled.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you have not-"

"Next time."

Billi padded her shoulder lightly, slightly uncomfortable.. "It's so good to see you, Mati."

"I'm glad to see you," she smiled.

"Also a connection?" Kevin then asked, watching the two with raised eyebrows.

"Friends," Billi proudly said and wrapped his arm around Matilde's shoulder, making Matilde step away which caused them to giggle.

Kevin looked at Matilde. "I swear, the next time I want to introduce you to someone I know, I will first ask if you know them."

A laugh rolled over Matilde's lips. "Coincidence."

"She practically got connections in every corner of the paddock," Billi said.

She huffed and shook her head. "I wish."

"I will remember that next time I need a favour," Kevin said, having a playful glint in his eyes.

They continued to exchange jokes and laughter, enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere. The three of them strolled along the asphalt towards the pits, sharing stories and poking fun at each other. When the three entered the pitlane, Charles and Carlos were also entering the pitlane; they decided to run a lap as well.

Matilde, Billi and Kevin were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice the two Ferrari drivers. Charles and Carlos, on the other hand, had their attention squarely fixed on their team principal, fellow driver and doctor of the medical team. They observed the easy camaraderie between the three, the constant laughter that seemed to be a part of their interaction.

When the Ferrari drivers passed the trio, Charles leaned over to Carlos. "Did you see that?" he muttered quietly.

Carlos squeezed his eyebrows together and stopped running as their lap was completed. "Yeah, they seem to be having a great time. Why?"

"She has fun with everyone," Charles replied, "Everyone but our team."

Carlos chuckled. "Come on. You know she's just being professional with us." He noticed how Charles looked over his shoulder, looking at the group. "She's the boss, after all."

Charles mumbled something under his breath, still not looking away from the trio ahead. He couldn't quite shake off the feeling of annoyance at the sight. It was as if the friendship on display highlighted the distance between Matilde and the Ferrari team, and in particular, himself.

"And she joined us at a very weird time, she's probably still adjusting to the team. She had her contacts from her previous role, plus she had been out of the scene for months. Give her sometime," Carlos continued. "Maybe you should join them for a track walk next time. Who knows, you might find yourself enjoying some Scandi vibes."

"Is Bill from Scandinavia?"

Carlos shrugged. "He is from somewhere up there. Magnussen and Matilde are Danish and Bill seems to keep up with their conversation." He padded Charles' shoulder. "But join them and find out."

A half-hearted chuckle rolled over Charles' lips. "We will see."

Next chapter

[flowwochair]

Doves and their Peculiar Taste (Aimevout) - Prologue

After much debate (and because apparently I have to wait to make an AO3 account????) I decided to post the prologue to the fic I have been working on here, depending on how long AO3 takes to release me from purgatory I might just go ahead and post the chapters I have so far on here too. NOTE: The fanfic starts with Aimée's engagement to Lannes and is meant to end with her wedding to Davout following her as she becomes disillusioned with Lannes and falls in love with Davout, who she meets by chance at an event hosted by her brother, the prologue is set before this. Although I tried to stick as much as possible to historical accuracy here there will most likely be bits that are not as accurate. I attempted to be as accurate as I could be to Aimée's initial engagement to Lannes and how things were going back then but I don't have a lot of specific info on that and the specific circumstances she was in and this fic is largely my own creative take on how the engagement was dissolved and how Davout and Aimée met. In reality, I don't even know if Davout and Aimée had met at all prior to their wedding, let alone have a soapy lovey dovey will they won't they slowburn romance develop between them. Likewise, I did my own take in characterization to some extent, I wrote the characters involved the way I see them/think of them, but some of them will change throughout the fic (notably Lannes, Davout, and Aimée). I apologize for any historical inaccuracies, like I said this is my own creative take about a very specific situation which I don't have a lot of insight on :((( . TLDR: there will probably be some historical inaccuracies here and there PLEASE dont be mean to me about it or I'm gonna cry and show up in your living room and throw up on your carpet, thank you. Anyways, enjoy.

Prologue – Scene 1

“An illegitimate child with another man?”

The words slapped Lannes back into consciousness as they left Bonaparte’s mouth.

“I find I should be concerned myself, my situation is not much better than yours, but, how do you feel?”

Lannes realized he had been venting to Napoleon without a second thought, and only then did the reality hit him. What now? Well, Napoleon was the best person to ask wasn’t he? “What now?” Lannes looked up at Bonaparte with a puzzled look, seeming almost as if half awake. “I guess I need a new wife”. Bonaparte could see his sorrow being converted into anger, typical for Lannes given his nature, “And have you thought of someone?” he asked, to which he earned  a quick reply from Lannes’s increasing frustration “Fuck no.”

Bonaparte reclined on his chair, staring down at Lannes who sat on a camp bed, his back hunched, his eyes on the floor. “Lannes,” as Bonaparte called, he looked up, eyebrows still furrowed, “You’ve become a close friend to me… and what do we want in life if not to see our friends cared for?”. Lannes’s expression changed to one of confusion, “What? Do you have someone in mind?”, he didn’t like it when Napoleon was vague with him. “I have already sought connections for my sisters, they are cared for, however, they themselves have connections which aren’t.”

“Well honestly I’m not sure if I wanna think about women at all right now.” Lannes hastily got up as he spoke, grabbing his hat in the process and turning towards the tent’s opening, until Napoleon stood up and grabbed him by the arm, “God, listen to me won’t you” with a movement of his chin he gestured towards he chair he previously occupied, “Sit.”

“Fine”, Lannes sat “Hurry up.” “My sister, Pauline, is married to Charles Leclerc, you know him do you not?” “Yeah whatever I think so”, Lannes gestured vaguely. “Leclerc has unmarried sisters, one in particular who is at proper age, Louise-Aimée-Julie Leclerc.” “I never met this girl.” “I have heard and read snippets of her character here and there, she seems like a docile girl, well behaved, just a bit shy but perfect for marriage, especially as a rebound after something like this. Not to mention, by marrying her, you would be brought into my family through her connection to my sister. You would be cared for in being provided with a good loving wife, a wealthy familial connection to the Leclercs, and a connection to me.” He spoke more as if he were pitching a business deal than as if he were pitching a marriage.

Lannes still looked at him, but this time with some interest. It would seem the ‘sales’ pitch may have been successful at hooking him in. Access to wealth… a connection to Napoleon… a docile wife who would not give him a bastard child. “Huh… What does she look like?”.

“Brunette, brown eyes, small stature, she is quite petite.” Bonaparte replied, still in the tone of someone selling furniture. “Well you know how I am-“ “I do and I am hoping you would not take such a style with her.” Bonaparte replied sternly, “Her brother is quite protective of her Lannes, you should treat her as a crystal if anything.” “Sure… well, fine, let’s give it a shot.” Lannes said, standing up once again, this time with a much more interested expression. “Great.” Napoleon stood up as well, extending his hand towards Lannes, “I will propose the idea to Leclerc tomorrow, he has been looking for a suitor to his sister, surely he will be pleased.” Lannes shook his hand “Surely”, he said with a smirk.

Lannes, having put his hat back on, then left Napoleon’s tent, as Napoleon sought an aide to write a letter to Leclerc on his behalf.

Prologue – Scene 2 Egypt had been hell for everyone involved, by then the campaign was falling apart and if anyone knew this for certain it was its leader, Napoleon Bonaparte, his return to France was already in plans. One of the many men condemned to stay in the hellish uncaring desert was one Louis Nicolas Davout. In a situation not too dissimilar from that of Lannes, having recently divorced his wife for an incident of a similar nature, he was down on his luck, one of the few things which at the very least kept him alive was his friendship to one Louis Desaix. “Davout?”, Desaix whispered, entering Davout’s messy tent, a stained jacket sat in rough shape on a chair near his bed, where Davout himself was sitting, staring at his glasses, the left lens badly shattered.

“Still awake hm?” Desaix sat on the chair facing him, his eyes attempting to meet Davout’s downward gaze. “Mhm.” He didn’t speak much, he never did, even to his closest friends, but still Desaix could read him so well, and he knew Davout was tired, he had been for a while. Desaix gently took the pair of glasses from Davout’s hands, which made Davout look up at him, “I’ll get take these with me, and send you a brand new pair from France! Whaddya think?” Desaix smiled at him. Although his expression did not change, Desaix could tell Davout’s mood had lightened slightly at the interaction. “Have you thought about what I said to you?”, Desaix kept his eyes fixed on Davout, concentrating in reading his expression. Davout looked down again, making Desaix concerned. “I don’t see the point. I tried once, it did not go well, why should I try again? I doubt it would result in success, besides I don’t have much to offer, it would simply be a pointless transaction on both ends.” Davout answered in a matter-of-fact manner, he looked up at Desaix once more with a straight expression. “You just haven’t met the right girl yet, you’ll see”, Desaix had been insisting a similar plea to Davout for long now, it wasn’t the first time Davout had heard him say this. “I am to return soon… I could… I could sneak you, yes, in the ship back to France, and-“ “General Bonaparte would never-“ “I don’t care what he has to say! I’ll sneak you in, I’ll take you to France, maybe you’ll meet someone there! Maybe at least you’ll change your mind, I could-“ “Desaix.” At this point, Davout was looking at him with concern. Desaix realized he was failing at hiding his distress. “I’m sorry.” He realized he had lifted off the chair towards Davout when he was speaking, he sat back down. “I worry about leaving you alone, I really do.” He placed his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his knuckles. There was silence between them for a little while.

“I’ll be fine,” Davout spoke, as he did Desaix looked up at him, his smile slowly reappearing. “I suppose as long as I am alive I am fine”, Davout shrugged. “Surely”, Desaix chuckled. Hesitantly, he stood up. “Keep me informed Davout, we should meet as soon as you yourself return to France, which I am hoping will be soon.” “I’ll try to remember to write to you, but you should write to me when you get there.” Davout responded, Desaix laughed at his response much to Davout’s confusion. “I will, have a good night Davout, I hope you’ll be at the port before I leave.” “I am hoping you do not intend to-“ “I won’t sneak you into the ship I swear! I just want to say my goodbyes that’s all” Desaix spoke honestly. “I’ll be there.” In a rare sight, Davout smiled at Desaix.  “See you.” Desaix gave Davout a pat on the shoulder before leaving his tent, still holding Davout’s glasses in his left hand. Not long after, Davout blew the only lit candle inside the tent, and tried his best to fall asleep.

Surely I’ll be fine.

[gossipgirloff1]

Honestly I like both Lilly’s ! And I lowkey like Melissa just because I think it’s because the interview she did with Fernando and they were both smiling.

Also who are current wags for f1? Because I lowkey don’t know anybody lol

Okay let’s see

You know Lily Zneimer,Lily Muni he and Melissa so I’m posting the other’s for you

• Carmen Mundt (George Russell’s gf)

• Kika Gomes (Pierre Gasly gf)

• Alexandra Saint Mleux (Charles Leclerc’s gf)

• Rebecca Donaldson (Carlos Sainz’s gf)

• Egle Hülkenberg (Nico Hülkenberg’s wife)

• Tiffany Cromwell (Valtteri Bottas’s gf)

• Louise Magnussen (Kevin Magnussen’s wife) sorry I can only add 10 photos

• Flavy Barla (Esteban Ocon’s gf)

• Margarida (Magui) Corceiro (Lando Norris’s unofficial gf) I can only add 10 photos sorry

Idk Yuki is still dating they were very private so I’m not gonna add his gf

• Heidi Berger (Daniel Ricciardo’s gf)

• Kelly Piquet (Max Verstappen’s gf)

• Carola Martinez-Perez (Sergio Perez’s wife)

• Riley Whittall (Logan Sargeant’s unofficial gf) I couldn’t add photo of her too 🙃

[starkwlkr]

Having the baby and you and Charles introducing him to Ruby who is confused because she asked for a baby sister and got a baby brother

a boy? | charles leclerc

live laugh love baby leclerc 🫶🏼

Ruby waited by the door. Ever since she woke up that morning, she asked her grandmère and both of her uncles when her parents were going to arrive. She was excited to see her new baby sister. She was confident she was getting a baby sister, she even picked out a name for her.

Ariel Leclerc, named after Ruby’s favorite Disney princess.

“Ruby, your mama and papa are here!” Pascale smiled as she approached the door ready to meet her new grandchild. The gender was kept a secret just like Ruby’s.

“Ariel is here! She’s here!” Ruby jumped up and down. She was still in her pink pajamas. All she wanted was her baby sister.

“Rubes, we don’t know if the baby is a girl. You probably have a brother.” Lorenzo said to the girl as he picked her up.

“No, it’s a girl. She’s named Ariel and we’re going to play together.” Ruby nodded.

“I hear them!” Pascale said excitedly as she heard the front door open. The Leclerc’s saw Y/n enter first. She had messy hair and looked tired, but she had the biggest smile on her face. “Congratulations, my girl.” Pascale brought the woman into a hug.

“Mama!” Ruby extended her arms so her mother could hold her but Y/n was still sore from the labor.

“Baby, my arms are weak. Papa can hold you.” Y/n told the girl, who frowned. “Let’s meet your baby brother.” She announced to everyone.

“A boy!” Arthur cheered along with everyone else, but Ruby. She looked around and saw how everyone was very happy for the baby boy.

Charles then walked in with the baby car seat. Inside was a baby peacefully sleeping wrapped in a light blue blanket. He had little mittens on his tiny hands with a matching blue hat. This wasn’t her sibling, no, her sibling was supposed to be a girl.

“Look, Ruby, this is your baby brother.” Charles set the car seat down. Lorenzo put Ruby on the floor. She slowly walked towards the sleeping baby and stared at him. “His name is Mathéo.”

“Is there another baby?” Ruby’s question caught everyone off guard. “Where’s the baby that was in mama’s stomach?”

“Ruby, Mathéo is that baby. He’s very excited to meet you.” Charles tried explaining to her but she was convinced Mathéo was someone else’s baby.

Ruby didn’t say anything else. She walked away and went outside to her tiny backyard playground she had.

“She hates him.” Y/n sighed as she walked slowly to the sofa. Lorenzo saw her struggle and helped her. Charles, Pascale and Arthur followed close by.

“She doesn’t hate him, she’s confused. We should’ve found out the gender when we had the chance. We should’ve told her so she wouldn’t be like this when we introduced her to Mathéo.” Charles said to his wife.

“I’m going to go talk to her.” Y/n tried getting up but she was stopped by Charles.

“You just gave birth. I’ll talk to her.”

So while his family got to meet the new addition to the family, Charles walked outside to see his daughter playing by herself on the playground. He walked towards the little girl and watched as she gave an empty tea cup to her stuffed animal. She had different Barbies in a circle around her pretending they were her ‘guests’.

“Ruby, we need to talk.” Charles spoke. But the girl ignored her father. She continued playing with her toys. “Ruby Jules Louise Leclerc, put your toys down.”

Ruby put her tea cup down. “Papa, we’re having a tea party.”

“I know but right now we need to talk,” Charles sat next to the girl on the grass. “Mathéo told me he wants to meet his big sister.”

“Babies can’t talk, papa.” Ruby said lowly.

“Then what’s bothering you, mon chéri?” Charles knew what was bothering her but he wanted to hear her out.

“Lucy from school has a sister and so does Lily. I have a brother.” She said. “I want a sister so we can play together.”

“Mathéo can play with you when he gets older. Boys and girls can play together. Just like how you and Jack play in the paddock.” Charles explained. “Plus, Mathéo can’t wait to meet you. Remember when you and I talked to mama’s belly and you told him how your day was?” Ruby nodded her head. “He recognizes your voice.”

“How? He’s a baby.” Ruby wondered.

“He just does. So now he knows that you’re his big sister just like he knows I’m his papa and your mama is his mama.” Charles hoped the talk would get her to at least meet get her inside to meet the baby.

“Does he know uncle enzo and uncle arthur are his uncle too? And what about uncle pierre? He has to know uncle pierre! What about grandmère?”

“Slow down, Ruby, he’ll know. But just in case he forgot why don’t we go inside to tell him?”

Ruby wasted no time in running inside. She even yelled at Charles to hurry up. Once she opened the door, she saw her mother holding her baby brother. “Mama! He knows I’m his sister!” Ruby ran towards her mother’s side and saw her brother with his eyes open. Again, the child was a carbon copy of his father, especially the eyes.

“He does and he’s been asking for you. Come sit over here.” Y/n said. Ruby obeyed and sat next to her mom. She watched as the baby yawned which made her laugh.

“Papa told me he can recognize my voice.” Ruby said. “Does he know my name?” She asked curiously.

“Why don’t you remind him.” Y/n leaned forward a bit so Ruby could see more of her brother’s face.

“Hi, my name is Ruby Jules Louise Leclerc. But I like Jules. Papa said that when you’re older you can play with me. But you can play with the cars, the barbies are mine. And you can’t say uncle Pierre is your favorite, he’s mine.” Ruby said in all seriousness.

“Lucky for Mathéo, he has another uncle, right Ruby?” Arthur poked Ruby’s cheek.

“Don’t tell anyone but uncle arthur snores.”

[yaggy031910]

It‘s Davout time!

Happy 253th birthday, dear iron marshal! ☺️🇫🇷🥖✨

Louis-Nicolas Davout is known for the devotion and love he had for his wife, Aimée Davout (born Louise-Aimée-Julie Leclerc), so I was interested about their correspondence. To cut a long story short, I started reading their letters (specifically the ones around the Russian campaign because I also wondered how Davout had dealt with this mess of a campaign).

Let‘s say it was simply heartwarming and I was melting away most of the time so how about I share one of my favourite little moments? Shall we? :D Davout‘s desire to have a second son and how he throws all of it away as long as Aimée‘s health is fine:

Ce 12 décembre Je profite, ma chère Aimée, de l‘estafette pour te rassurer sur la santé de ton Louis; elle est, malgré la rigueur de la saison, très bonne. Tu trouveras mon écriture tremblée. Je te jure par toi que la seule raison en est au froid qu‘il faut, et que je sens d‘autant plus que je t‘écris en plein air pour ne pas masquer cette estafette. Desessart part demain pour Paris, il va bien. Beaupré, malgré son âge, s‘en tire assez bien. Beaumont et les deux Fayet ne sont que fatigués. J‘envoie mille baisers à mon excellente Aimée, qui est peut-être, - à l‘heure où je lui écris, - dans les douleurs: puisse mon Aimée me donner un second fils! Cependant, si c‘est und filled, elle sera bien accueillie. J‘envoie mille caresses à l‘enfant chéri qui es Louis et à nos deux petites. Assure ta bonne mère de ma tendresse. Tout à toi. L.

German translation: Der 12. Dezember Ich profitiere, meine liebe Aimée, von dem Kurier, um dich über die Gesundheit deines Louis zu beruhigen; sie ist trotz der Strenge der Jahreszeit sehr gut. Du wirst meine Handschrift zitternd finden. Ich schwöre dir, dass der einzige Grund dafür die Kälte ist und ich fühle mich dementsprechend mehr dazu, dir im Freien zu schreiben, um den Kurier nicht zu verpassen. Desessart bricht morgen auf für Paris, ihm geht es gut. Beaupré hält sich trotz seines Alters gut. Beaumont und die zwei/beiden Fayets sind nur müde. Ich schicke 1000 Küsse an meine exzellente Aimée, die vielleicht in der Stunde, wo ich ihr schreibe, in Schmerzen ist: Möge meine Aimée mir einen zweiten Sohn geben! Jedoch, wenn es ein Mädchen ist, wird sie auch willkommen sein. Ich schicke 1000 Streicheleinheiten an die lieben Kinder, die Louis und unsere zwei Kleinen sind. Versichere deine Mutter meiner innigen Liebe. Alles an dich. L.

English translation: The 12th of December I benefit, my dear Aimée, from the courier/messenger to reassure you about the health of your Louis; she is very good despite the harshness of the season. You will find my handwriting shaking. I swear to you the only reason for that is the cold and I feel more like writing in the fresh air to not miss out the courier/messenger. Desessart leaves for Paris tomorrow, he is fine. Beaupré, despite his age, is going well. Beaumont and both Fayets are just tired. I send a thousand kisses to my excellent Aimée, who is perhaps in pain in the hour I write her: May my Aimée give me a second son! However, if it’s a girl, she is going to be welcomed. I send a thousand caresses to the dear children, who are Louis and our two little ones. Assure your mother about my tenderness. All for you. L.

Just like Napoleon, Davout had a desire to sire sons and - as far as I am concerned - it‘s clear that his enthusiasm for the possibility of having another son is strong. We might say it’s even stronger than for the possibility of having another daughter although he wrote that a daughter would be welcomed. Now, let’s read the next letter he wrote to his wife where he threw all of that away, shall we? :D

Gumbinnen, ce 17 décembre Je suis bien tourmenté, ma chère Aimée, du long silence auquel les ciconstances m’ont forcé et de toutes les inquiétudes qu’il t’aura données, à toi si ingénieuse à te tourmenter sans motifs. L’état où tu te trouvais, à la veille de faire tes couches, ajoute à mes tourments: jamais je n’ai plus éprouvé le besoin de recevoir de tes nouvelles, et j’ignore quand j’aurai ce bonheur, malgré les estafettes qui arrivent régulièrement; mais le comte Daru, sous le couvert de qui tes lettres me parvenaient, étant parti pour Koenisgsberg, me prive absolument de tes nouvelles. […] Ta santé, dans ce moment, est tout ce qui occasionne mes inquiétudes; lorsque je serai rassuré sur ce point, je désirerai connaître de tes couches: fille ou garçon, l’enfant sera le bienvenu si la santé de mon Aimée est telle que je la souhaite. […]

German translation: Gumbinnen, der 17. Dezember Ich bin sehr gequält, meine liebe Aimée, von dem langen Schweigen, zu dem mich die Umstände gezwungen haben und von den ganzen Sorgen, die es dir bereitet hat, so geistreich von dir, dich ohne Anlass so zu quälen. Der Zustand, in dem du dich am Vorabend mit der Geburt befandest, fügt mir Plagen zu: Nie habe ich mehr den Bedarf verspürt, deine Neuigkeiten zu erhalten und ich weiss nicht, wann ich diese Freude haben werde, trotz der Kurier, die regelmässig eintreffen; aber der Graf Daru, unter dessen Deckmantel deine Briefe mich erreichten, hat mich, nach Königsberg aufbrechend, von deinen Neuigkeiten beraubt. […] Deine Gesundheit ist in dem Moment alles, was mir Sorgen bereitet; wenn ich darüber beruhigt bin, wünsche ich mir, über das Wochenbett zu erfahren: Mädchen oder Junge, das Kind wird willkommen sein, wenn die Gesundheit von meiner Aimée so ist, wie ich es wünsche. […]

English translation: Gumbinnen, the 17th of December I am quite troubled, my dear Aimée, of the long silence to which my circumstances forced me to and of all the worries it caused you, so ingenious of you, to torment yourself without reason. The state you were in on the eve with the birth caused me torment: Never have I felt more the desire to receive your news and I don‘t know when I am going to have the happiness despite the couriers who regularly arrive; but the count Daru, under whose cover your letters came to me, having left for Koenisgsberg, deprives me absolutely of your news. […] In the moment, your health is everything what causes me concern; when I am reassured, I desire to find out about your postpartum period: girl or boy, the child will be welcomed if the health of my Aimée is how I wish. […]

MY HEAAAAART, GAHWD, THEY ARE ADORABLE.

[pipiteer]

charles leclerc (manuel goria, 2018) // detail of the portrait of louise, princesse de broglie, later the comtesse d'haussonville (jean-auguste-dominique ingres, 1845)

(charles x art, 12/?)

[onlyfooll]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟏 - 𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐓

delegacia de des moines, quatorze de julho, 16:52.

wora ajustava sua pulseira repetidamente, um tique nervoso que adquirira nos últimos anos. naquele dia específico, a ansiedade parecia corroer a alma, o ansiolítico não estava fazendo efeito, a deixando à mercê de seu próprio autocontrole. o trajeto até a delegacia fora uma sequência de pensamentos intrusivos e tentativas falhas de se acalmar. com alguns minutos de atraso, ela finalmente entrou na sala de interrogatórios. o local estava iluminado por luzes frias, o cheiro de café e desinfetante misturavam-se, causando um embrulho no estômago. duas pessoas já estavam à espera: o delegado desprat, com uma expressão de tédio e uma oficial auxiliar, de semblante um pouco mais amigável. ao vê-la entrar, o investigador olhou para o relógio em seu pulso e depois para ela. “boa tarde, senhorita. por favor, sente-se.” seus olhos avaliaram cada movimento de wora enquanto ela se dirigia à cadeira vazia. “sou o delegado baptiste desprat e essa é minha colega, a oficial louise leclerc.” ele puxou uma folha de dentro de uma pasta, suspirando logo em seguida. “bem, já estamos atrasados. vamos começar.”

“wora nam, 28 de janeiro de 1990.” o delegado começou, falando alto o suficiente para que qualquer pessoa do lado de fora pudesse ouvir. “também conhecida como… celeste.” ele fez uma pausa, levantando os olhos por alguns segundos. “estrangeira, cidadania francesa concedida há quatro anos.” wora permaneceu em silêncio, apenas fazendo um breve aceno com a cabeça conforme ele falava. “sabe, senhorita nam, tivemos dificuldade para encontrá-la. pelo que vi nos registros, visitamos três endereços até finalmente conseguirmos entregar a intimação.”

wora forçou um sorriso, um reflexo quase mecânico diante da situação. suas mãos estavam geladas e ela as colocou no colo, tentando disfarçar o tremor. "é porque eu… eu me mudo muito. não gosto de ficar no mesmo lugar por muito tempo." a voz soou um pouco mais firme do que se sentia por dentro.

baptiste soltou o ar pelo nariz, um som que refletia sua insatisfação evidente com a resposta. ele observou wora por mais alguns segundos antes de voltar a falar, dessa vez com um tom ligeiramente mais irritado. "vamos direto ao ponto. você conhecia victor kothari-dagoty?"

“claro. ele foi presidente da fraternidade kappa phi, a fraternidade eu fazia parte na universidade. e também… éramos vizinhos.” acrescentou, a voz um pouco mais hesitante. “na l'orangerie victor era uma pessoa muito atenciosa, fazia de tudo por todos ali dentro. costumávamos conversar bastante. ele era um dos que me incentivavam em relação à minha carreira médica.” fez uma pequena pausa. “depois que ele deixou a universidade, nos vimos pouco. não mantivemos contato direto até eu me mudar para a casa ao lado da dele.”

ele ergueu as sobrancelhas, trocando um olhar com louise. "você foi interrogada na época em que victor foi morto, não foi?"

"sim, eu falei com alguns policiais na época. eles colheram meu depoimento e nunca mais me contataram a respeito do caso."

o investigador inclinou a cabeça, fazendo uma anotação rápida. "e como era a relação entre vocês dois?"

"nossa relação era… era boa. sempre que me via, ele me cumprimentava, conversava sobre o mercado, emprego… coisas normais. eu tinha mais contato com a mãe dele, adelaide."

“entendo. então, vocês tinham uma relação amigável, mas distante.”

wora assentiu lentamente, as mãos ainda tremendo. “sim, exatamente.”

baptiste soltou um suspiro profundo, tomando um gole do seu café em seguida. "muito bem. onde você estava na data da morte dele?"

ela fechou os olhos, tentando recordar todos os detalhes daquele dia. “de vez em quando, eu cuidava das filhas de anne e naquele…”

“informe o nome completo dos envolvidos, por favor.” interrompeu louise, enquanto fazia anotações.

a resposta veio de forma hesitante e entrecortada. "anne dupont… uma amiga da época da residência, ela mudou para estrasburgo, recentemente. naquele dia, eu… levei a mais velha para encontrar alguns amigos no parque. menos de uma hora depois… eu… tive que levá-la ao hospital porque ela teve uma reação alérgica. passei o resto da manhã e parte da tarde com ela.” sentia o rosto quente, a frustração evidente por não conseguir se manter firme. "depois, eu…" sentiu a garganta apertar, a familiar sensação de lágrimas borbulhando nos cantos dos olhos. com um suspiro pesado, ela continuou, lutando para manter a compostura. "eu voltei para casa e não sai o resto do dia."

a resposta pareceu satisfazer momentaneamente o delegado, que fez um aceno de cabeça a leclerc. "você sabia que victor estava investigando a vida das pessoas que integravam a kappa phi na data do acidente de fiona? alguma vez foi procurada por ele?”

“não. ele nunca me procurou diretamente para falar sobre isso, como disse, nossas conversas eram mais triviais.” já era evidente o rumo que aquela conversa iria tomar e o efeito colateral de seu nervosismo já dava sinais. era inevitável, qualquer sinal de desconforto, wora chorava. naquele momento usava toda a sua energia para não cair em prantos. não eram as perguntas em si que deixavam naqueles estado e sim, a situação. não imaginava que algum dia fosse voltar para uma sala de interrogatórios, muito menos ser praticamente obrigada a reviver tudo aquilo que tinha a tanto custo tentado esquecer.

louise folheou os papeis na mesa, o silêncio na sala interrompido apenas pelo som abafado das páginas sendo viradas. ela finalmente encontrou a página que buscava e mantendo uma expressão serena, olhou para wora que se ajeitava na cadeira, visivelmente tensa. “em dez de outubro de 2015 você colaborou com a polícia, compartilhando detalhes sobre o acidente de fiona agnew. você ainda lembra o que aconteceu naquele dia?”

wora desviou o olhar por um momento. a lembrança da festa voltou com clareza, como se ela pudesse quase sentir a vibração e o barulho daquela noite. ela começou a falar, a voz baixa e hesitante. "estava acontecendo uma festa na fraternidade. era para comemorar alguma coisa em relação aos trotes com os calouros. sempre aconteciam festas na kappa phi, mas aquela era diferente. parecia que todos estavam mais animados, mais alcoolizados que o normal."

o delegado inclinou-se um pouco para frente, os olhos fixos nos dela. "a senhorita era uma dessas pessoas?"

ela balançou a cabeça. "não. nunca fui muito de festas, também nunca gostei de ficar bêbada. sempre me policiei para não passar do ponto. em um certo momento, eu já tinha me separado dos meus amigos e estava tentando voltar para o meu quarto, quando ouvi uma briga no andar de cima. saí da casa e esperei a confusão acabar. foi quando aconteceu a explosão. muita gente saiu correndo." ela fez uma pausa, o corpo tremendo ligeiramente ao lembrar dos eventos seguintes. “alguém gritou por ajuda. minha ajuda. eu… eu estava cursando medicina, ele esperava que eu fizesse alguma coisa.” wora sentiu as lágrimas ameaçarem cair e lutando para mantê-las sob, controle, abaixou a cabeça. “mas eu… eu fiquei paralisada. não consegui fazer nada.”

"você acha que foi apenas um acidente?" louise quebrou o silêncio com a pergunta direta.

wora fez um sinal negativo com a cabeça. “não sei, acho que… podia ter acontecido com qualquer um. aquela noite foi uma confusão, ninguém parecia ter controle sobre nada.” na verdade, nunca tinha pensado em qualquer outra possibilidade que não fosse um acidente. respirou fundo, tentando se recompor, o rosto úmido. "acho que foi uma tragédia."

“você acha que victor tinha motivos para desconfiar que alguém causou o acidente?” baptist prosseguiu.

louise, observando atentamente, inclinou-se levemente para frente, como se quisesse reduzir a distância entre elas. "e quanto a você, wora? victor tinha motivos para achar que você poderia estar envolvida?"

ela mordeu levemente o lábio inferior, uma tentativa de controlar seu nervosismo. “alguma coisa aconteceu para fiona ficar daquele jeito. se foi de propósito? não sei. se ele estava investigando, então devia ter um motivo concreto.” baptiste tamborilou os dedos na mesa, criando um som ritmado que ecoava na sala silenciosa. ele olhou para suas anotações antes de voltar a fixar os olhos em wora. "talvez... sim." wora hesitou, passando a mão pelos cabelos num gesto que demonstrava seu crescente desconforto e a dificuldade em articular os pensamentos.

seus olhos se arregalaram, o coração disparando enquanto ela balançava a cabeça vigorosamente, o pânico crescendo em seu peito. "não, eu… eu nunca fiz nada. não.. não tenho e nunca tive nada haver com aquilo. se ele achava que alguém estava envolvido, eu não sou a pessoa certa para dizer quem." a respiração ficou mais rápida e superficial.

baptiste a observou por mais alguns segundos, antes de se recostar na cadeira, a expressão pensativa. louise terminou suas anotações e olhou para ele, esperando pela próxima pergunta. "você foi procurada por victor nos últimos anos?"

a pergunta mal foi formulada pelo investigador quando wora soltou um “não.” a resposta saiu automática, séria, mas ao mesmo tempo um pouco trêmula. ele arqueou uma sobrancelha, consultando um dos papeis à sua frente, mas não fez nenhum comentário.

o silêncio que se seguiu foi pesado, preenchido apenas pelo som da caneta de louise rabiscando no bloco de notas. desprat olhou para wora com uma expressão difícil de decifrar, ponderando suas respostas. ele finalmente se endireitou na cadeira, limpando a garganta. “muito bem, por ora, já é o suficiente. vamos chegar as informações e caso precisemos de mais detalhes vamos entrar em contato.” ele começou a empilhar os papéis em um montinho ordenado enquanto se levantava. “pedimos gentilmente que não saia da cidade e atualize seus dados de contato na recepção.” a formalidade em sua voz se esvaindo enquanto ele e louise deixavam a sala, fechando a porta atrás de si.

sozinha na sala de interrogatórios, wora sentiu uma onda esmagadora de alívio misturada com exaustão. a tensão acumulada durante a conversa a abandonava aos poucos, deixando um vazio pesado em seu lugar. sem conseguir mais segurar, ela encostou a cabeça na mesa fria e começou a chorar silenciosamente, os ombros tremendo a cada soluço abafado. o pensamento de ter que lidar com mais interrogatórios, de ver a história se repetindo, fazia seu estômago revirar. não conseguia ficar indiferente à situação. pensava em adelaide, como a mulher doce e alegre tinha virado uma sombra de tristeza depois de perder o filho. pensava em victor também. as circunstâncias brutais de sua morte se juntavam à imagem inerte de fiona, causando uma agonia ainda maior em wora.

após um tempo, ouviu o som de passos se aproximando. um policial abriu a porta, observando-a com uma expressão de preocupação. "senhorita, está tudo bem?" a voz dele era suave, quase paternal.

ela levantou a cabeça, os olhos inchados e vermelhos. "sim, estou bem." respondeu, tentando parecer convincente. limpou rapidamente as lágrimas com a manga da blusa, respirou fundo e se forçou a se levantar. a sala parecia girar levemente, mas ela se manteve firme.

"preciso ir agora." disse, a voz ainda trêmula. o policial assentiu e a acompanhou até a saída, onde ela se dirigiu à recepção para atualizar seus dados. sentia-se exausta, mas determinada a sair dali o mais rápido possível.

[nesiacha]

do you have some good sources about how women during the frev thought about universal male suffrage? (i've been uncomfortable with some claims about how the frev was not feminist enough because women got the rights to vote in the 20th century, but cannot back up this discomfort.)

"I am quite limited on certain subjects and this is one of them (I am currently researching the exact thoughts of women during the French Revolution on universal suffrage).

Unfortunately, it has been a great shame that the French Revolution was misogynistic despite the meager rights that were gradually taken away from them over time. Even the greatest progressives like Sylvain Maréchal, who was an important disciple of Babeuf, had as a project to ensure that women did not have a say in the learning of reading.

The fact that misogyny was already present during the Ancien Régime (Marie Antoinette is blamed for all evils when in reality she did not have much say during her husband's reign, to better absolve Louis XVI and the policy of France under this absolute regime) or that Napoleon made the condition of women worse than that of Italy or Spain (I mentioned this in my post 'Women's Rights Suppressed') while being a great hypocrite does not absolve the revolutionaries for what they did in their misogyny.

There was a habit of attacking the wives of their adversaries to better discredit them (like Manon Roland, Marie Françoise Goupil, wife of Hébert, Lucile Duplessis, wife of Desmoulins), which is an interesting parallel on this point with the attacks against Marie Antoinette.

Olympe de Gouges spoke about the rights of women and citizens. Pauline Léon, Claire Lacombe, who demanded the right to organize in the national army. Théroigne de Méricourt, Louis Reine Audu, and again Claire Lacombe fought in the Tuileries and yet, despite being rewarded with a civic crown, they would not have the right to speak on universal suffrage.

Chaumette was a great misogynist, Robespierre too (one could tell me that he supported Louise de Keralio's candidacy for her entry into the academy, but in political matters, it was another story), Danton, Sylvain Maréchal, Amar, etc. I am not here to blame Robespierre and I deplore that there is a black legend about him, but one can see a certain purely political gesture in my opinion for the action he will take towards Simone Evrard.

As much as Simone Evrard is a very intelligent woman, with an extraordinary destiny very underestimated, capable of making very good political speeches (one of the people of the French Revolution that I admire the most), I wonder if the fact that Robespierre personally introduced her into the Assembly was just an opportunistic gesture because he would have had an additional reason to discredit Jacques Roux and Théophile Leclerc thanks to the speech she made while he was among the revolutionaries who approved the restriction of women's rights. Respect towards Simone Evrard regarding her dignity and intelligence (maybe even surely) opportunism, I would be tempted to answer on this by affirmative.

Risking repeating myself, Napoleon being a greater oppressor towards women by taking away the few rights they had, enacting oppressive and hypocritical laws, and even bloody ones concerning them, does not absolve the other revolutionaries of their sexism.

And there is no excuse that it was of their time (in fact, I noticed that this lie is used in my opinion to absolve Napoleon but not the revolutionaries, but forced to see that it fits into the same idea)... First of all, Charles Gilbert Romme was more progressive in women's rights, Marat and Charlier too, Camille Desmoulins thought that women could have the right to vote, Condorcet demanded gender equality, Carnot worked with him in women education with Pastoret and Guilloud , Guyomar opposed the exclusion of women from universal suffrage. Worse than anything, while the clubs and societies of women ended up being banned, which is a regression.

In 1795, for attempting to revolt against the Assembly which abolished the social policies of the Montagnards, they were prohibited from attending assemblies and even from gathering in the streets in groups of more than 5. Moreover, the term 'tricoteuse' to insult women was not invented during the Napoleonic era or the royalist era but in 1795.

What did women think about this? This is where I am quite limited because besides the answers I have given about these women and their actions, unfortunately, there is not much else I can say due to my limited knowledge.

In any case, I hope I have helped a bit to support the aforementioned statements.

In the meantime, I can provide some of my sources: the historian Mathilde Larrère, Antoine Resche who made very good summarized portraits of some revolutionary women on the website 'veni vidi sensi', I would also recommend reading the book by the writer Claude Guillon on Robespierre, women, and the Revolution (even though I completely disagree with some of his books that have been legally condemned, this one is rather good and he had a quite good blog on the French Revolution that I recommend checking out), and the historian Jean-Clément Martin, 'La révolte brisée'."

Reedit: Thank you to aedesluminis for inform me the role that Carnot Pastoret and Guilloud did with women's education.