#touche à tout

[wolfsnape]

Moi : *dit à une maman d'élève de faire attention aux livres que lisent ses filles vu leur âge, au conseil de classe*

Partenaire de galère : J'étais uuuuuultra gêné pour elles !!

[lilias42]

fav character tag game 🌷🌙

Règles : faites un sondage auprès de vos cinq personnages préférés de tous les temps et voyez qui est le favori parmi vos abonnés !

Taggué par @ladyniniane ! Merci pour le défi !

Et pour le retour de tag... je dirais @mwezina , @randomnameless et n'importe qui passant et voulant tenter l'exercice !

[randomnameless]

@lilias42 replied to your post “@dimiclaudeblaigan replied to your post “About...”:

1 Même AG se tire une balle dans le pied avec Miklan vu que bon, Dimitri préfère faire devenir général Miklan qui est un ancien noble malgré le fait qu'il soit un brigand sadique qui pille et tue pour le fun, ravisseur de femme et fratricide et persécuteur d'enfant avéré tout ça parce qu'il n'a pas hérité de Matthias (alors que Matthias le préfère à Sylvain parce que femme dans le frigo et ne fait rien pour protéger son cadet)

​2 plutôt qu'un roturier x s'étant illustré au combat dans son armée (il aurait aussi pu choisir un ancien brigand mais en disant qu'il l'était pour manger, pas pour tout brûler par caprice) Pour quelqu’un qui veut donner une meilleure place aux roturiers, ça la fiche assez mal

Mais non, l'histoire du roturier qui transcende sa condition tellement il est badass c'est la route de Dedel ça! Et apparemment, c'est la backstory de Ladislava, mais elle meurt avant qu'on puisse dire ouf!

Plus sérieusement, je ne sais pas si l'axe voulu c'était le "même sans emblème un quidam (oui il est noble et donc à eu au minimum une bonne éducation dans ces domaines alors ce n'est pas vraiment in quidam) peut devenir général" ou le "seconde chance pour tous : même si vous avez poutré des randoms, essayé de tuer des bébés et fait des bisous non consentis à des femmes, vous pouvez vous racheter!".

Parce que bon, le coup du "mais Sylvain a dit qu'il était ok avec ça" c'est certes gentil pour lui, mais perso, ça renvoie un image plutôt moche du Royaume, si on offre des portes de sortie à des criminels comme ça parce qu'on est en temps de guerre et qu'on a besoin de bras/têtes. Dimitri a aussi demandé aux paysans abusés et aux femmes séduites si elles étaient d'accord avec son plan? C'est quoi ce message, la peine de Miklan est commuée en "il devient général" même s'il est censé être surveillé et peut être exécuté à la moindre incartade (comme n'importe quel autre général qui voudrait faire des "incartades" similaires à ce qu'il avait fait en tant que bandit)?

Encore à la limite si on nous disait qu'il n'y avait pas que Miklan qui a bénéficié de cette "opportunité" mais tout son gang de losers, pourquoi pas - il n'y aurait pas que lui qui bénéficierait de cette "seconde chance" mais aussi les bandits quelconques qui l'accompagnaient pour effacer ce doute et dire à tout le monde, ancien noble ou bandit quelconque, qu'ils peuvent se racheter en défendant le pays, et pas seulement offrir cette opportunité à Miklan parce qu'il est le frère de Sylvain et le fils de Matthias...

Au final, il meurt en héros (pauvre Ladislava, tout le monde s'en fout de sa mort!) donc Dimitri avait fait le bon choix et Miklan a bien saisi l'opportunité pour essayer de se racheter, même si j'aurais quand même préféré voir Dimiri organiser une escouade de gens quelconques, dont aurait fait partie Miklan en tant que soldat (et pas en tant que général) comme "punition" au lieu d'être exécuté, avec, je ne sais pas, entre plusieurs chapitres l'escouade des gens quelconques qui félicite Miklan pour ses actions/rôles et d'autres personnes qui se lamentent sur ses choix passés, préférant mettre ses talents à l'usage de vendetta personnelle contre, euh, le monde? au lieu de faire quelque chose d'utile et de devenir chevalier ou seigneur de son frère - à la limite qu'il soit promu au rang de chef d'escouade si le premier meurt à cause d'une bête démoniaque - pour qu'il finisse comme il le fait dans le jeu, à tenter de défendre Arianrhod.

Peut-être avec une oraison de la part de Gilbert (certes c'est son grand frère qui a un emblème!) - rappelant que si la possession d'emblème est accordée par la Déesse, c'est à chacun que revient de faire le choix d'être une personne qui fait quelque chose de bien de sa vie, ou pas.

En gros, de faire en sorte que l'accent soit moins mis sur Miklan frère de Sylvain et ancien membre de la maison Gautier, mais plus sur Miklan, un quidam qui veut se racheter.

[biarritzzz]

Le Monde se surpasse en termes d’euphémisme. J’imagine la conférence de rédaction:

« Bon les gars, y’a encore un musulman qui a fait une attaque à l’acide à Londres du coup comment est-ce qu’on va minimiser tout ça. Faut pas faire le jeu de l’extrême-droite, hein.

Quelqu’un a une idée ?

Et si au lieu d'écrire ‘attaque à l’acide’ on écrivait ‘substance corrosive’? Ça permet de ne pas faire immédiatement le lien avec la communauté musulmane pakistanaise.

C’est bon ça, coco! Allez, au boulot! »

Un brave Geordie, anglais depuis des générations, on vous dit! Un type de Newcastle!

Abdul Ezedi, c’est tout à fait natif comme nom. Et si vous en doutez, vous êtes raciste.

Le Monde n'ose quand même pas le couplet sur: la crème de la crème, les métiers en tension, l'immigration est une richesse, les futurs ingénieurs, médecins et infirmières, la colonisation, le racisme systémique. Même les journaleux du Monde ont des petits coups de mou de temps en temps.

[chaotictomtom]

la réforme sur le rsa qu'est passée 😐 moi quand j'aime trop faire galérer les déjà précaires de mon pays qui peinent à joindre les deux bouts chaque putain de jour. envie de passer par la fenêtre tbh

[makotoscoffee]

wow point de suture really is the last album of mylène's career where her voice sounds like it always had. bleu noir and onward it sounds like it currently does

[nebuladreamerrr]

Love in words| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Kylian wins your heart with a charming routine of leaving little love notes in French. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been secretly learning French just to understand his sweet messages

Warnings: English is not my first language. I don't speak Dutch or French, so if there's any mistake, I would appreciate it if you let me know :)))

You couldn't help but smile when you noticed the little envelope next to the breakfast on the counter, certain that your boyfriend had prepared it before leaving for training. It was these small gestures that made you fall more deeply in love with him each day.

The past few months hadn't been easy. In fact, your relationship hadn't followed a "normal" trajectory at all. Just a year ago, you had left your beloved Netherlands to advance your modeling career. Many saw it as a leap into the unknown, predicting you would return with less than you left with. Fortunately, you proved them wrong. It was at a serene evening event under the moonlight, hosted by a brand to showcase their new perfume, where you first met your current partner.

From the moment you met him, you felt a connection. However, you rarely recount your first conversation because it embarrasses you, despite it being one of Kylian's favorite stories. To Kylian's surprise, you didn't recognize who he was, leading him to initially disbelieve you and playfully ask what profession you thought suited him. Without hesitation, you said "architect," which amused him greatly.

Luckily, it turned into a humorous anecdote, and the following week, the handsome Frenchman seized the opportunity to take you on a date where you could savor authentic French cuisine. It was during this date that your mother called you, causing you embarrassment as you excused yourself briefly to the bathroom to speak with her. Uncertain of how to ensure you didn't return with a negative impression of him, Kylian took a lipstick from your bag and wrote on a napkin, "Meeting you was a nice accident." This gesture deeply touched your heart, and since then, you've cherished that napkin, hoping to one day share it with your future children as a cherished memory.

When your relationship began, you faced a series of challenges. First, Kylian got injured. Although it wasn’t a severe injury, he was quite moody since his whole life revolved around football. Luckily, your arrival in his life cheered him up, and he used that recovery time to get to know you better. However, the main issue in your relationship was the language barrier. After moving to France, your French was not very good, and after some bad experiences with a few French people who got offended when you mispronounced words, you decided to communicate mostly in English. Additionally, Kylian didn’t know any Dutch, so your conversations often felt monotonous or a bit awkward, requiring a translator to express your different points of view.

Kylian was quite concerned when you told him about the "trauma" you developed due to those few rude individuals who belittled your efforts and preferred to ridicule you rather than help you improve. To encourage you, Kylian came up with a plan involving leaving little notes in French to motivate you to learn the language. Of course, he understood that you could easily use your phone to translate them, so the first letter he gave you was on your birthday, hoping you’d understand how much he wanted it to come from you and not from a simple translation app. Therefore, on your birthday, he left this letter along with a bouquet of blue carnations:

“Bonjour à l'amour de ma vie,

J'espère que tu as très bien dormi aujourd'hui comme la princesse que tu es. Tu n'as aucune idée de combien je suis fier d'être ton petit ami et d'avoir comme petite amie une personne si gentille et noble, quelqu'un qui se soucie des autres et qui n'a pas peur de tout risquer pour accomplir de grandes choses.

(Y/N), en seulement vingt-quatre ans, tu as accompli tant de choses, et j'espère que tu es fière de chaque réussite car je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire comme un idiot amoureux quand j'entends ton nom mentionné dans une émission de télévision ou que je vois que tu as posté une nouvelle photo sur ton profil.

Je sais que tu vas me tuer pour avoir tout écrit en français, mais j'espère qu'un jour tu liras et comprendras tout. Je ne veux pas dire que j'espère que tu seras ma femme et la mère de mes enfants parce que je suis sûr que cela arrivera; nous sommes destinés à être ensemble.

Merci de me supporter, et s'il te plaît continue de cuisiner; je ne sais pas ce que je ferais sans ta nourriture. Je t'aime tellement, mon amour, profite de ta journée.

P.S. Please, princess, don’t translate anything, and don’t ask anyone to translate it for you. I love you, my queen."

("Good morning to the love of my life.

I hope you slept very well today like the princess you are. You have no idea how proud I am to be your boyfriend and to have such a gentle, noble person as my girlfriend, someone who cares about others and isn’t afraid to risk everything to achieve great things.

(Y/N), in just twenty-four years, you have accomplished so much, and I hope you are proud of every achievement because I can’t help but smile like a love-struck fool when I hear your name mentioned on a TV show or see that you’ve posted a new picture on your profile.

I know you’re going to kill me for writing this all in French, but I hope that one day you’ll read and understand everything. I don’t want to say I hope you’ll be my wife and the mother of my children because I’m sure it will happen; we’re destined to be together.

Thank you for putting up with me, and please keep cooking; I don’t know what I’d do without your food. I love you so much, my love, enjoy your day.

P.S. Please, princess, don’t translate anything, and don’t ask anyone to translate it for you. I love you, my queen.")

When you read the letter, you couldn't help but feel a bit shocked because you didn't expect to receive a handwritten letter from Kylian, especially not one written in French. Although it frustrated you that you couldn't understand what was written, you were sure it was all kind words. From that moment on, you had a new goal: to decipher everything the letter said.

Your motivation grew with the increase in notes that Kylian left everywhere: in your car, your apartment, and even in your purse. His messages varied—some shorter, some longer—but they all had one common factor: they were all written in French.

“Mon cœur, les gars me taquinent parce que je veux aller voir Vice Versa 2 avec toi. Est-ce bizarre ? » "Sweetheart, the guys are bullying me because I want to see Inside Out 2 with you. Is that weird?"

« Hey, je n'aime pas que tu prêtes plus d'attention à mon frère qu'à moi. Rappelle-toi, j'ai une Coupe du Monde, et lui non. » "Hey, I don’t like that you pay more attention to my brother than to me. Remember, I have a World Cup, and he doesn’t."

« Pendant l'entraînement, je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de penser à toi et à comment nos enfants vont me taquiner parce que je ne parle pas néerlandais. Pourquoi tout le monde se moque de moi ? » "During training, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how our kids will bully me because I don’t speak Dutch. Why does everyone make fun of me?"

All of this motivated you to sign up for classes with a private tutor to learn the language. You often surprised her by asking about the meaning of specific words to slowly decipher the meaning of your boyfriend’s letters. When you finally succeeded, you couldn’t feel more satisfied with yourself. So, you decided to write Kylian a letter in French and slip it into his training bag, hoping to surprise him. You also had a little revenge planned.

"My love, I hope training went well, and you had a great time with the guys.

Remember to behave, and there will be a delicious meal for lunch.

Overigens, ik denk dat het tijd is dat jij ook mijn taal leert, dus ik hoop dat je veel plezier hebt. Onthoud, als je opgeeft, zal mijn vader een slechte indruk van je hebben.

Ik hou van je, mijn kleine schildpad.

(By the way, I think it’s time for you to learn my language too, so I hope you have a lot of fun. Remember, if you give up, my father will have a bad impression of you.

I love you, my little turtle.)

P.S. Don’t use the translator either."

[cera-writes]

an idea: slow dancing w remy! (x reader ofc)

ma belle evangeline from princess and the frog came on my spotify shuffle earlier, and all i can think about is dancing with him with the song in the background 😭

love your fics btw!!🫶🫶

A/N: This idea makes me really, really soft 🥹 That's also one of my favorite Disney movies <3 Pairing: Remy LeBeau x gn!Reader Tags: slow dancing, Disney music, fluff, close proximity

Ma Belle Evangeline

The air was thick with the scent of magnolias and the distant hum of conversation as you found yourself standing at the edge of a bustling New Orleans courtyard. The night was alive with the sounds of jazz, and above, the Spanish moss swayed gently in the warm breeze. Your eyes caught sight of Remy LeBeau, Gambit, across the space, his gaze equally drawn to you. The band began to play "Ma Belle Evangeline," a song that always made you think of him, naturally.

Without a word, Remy approached, his eyes never leaving yours. He extended a hand, his touch electric as it met your skin. "Shall we dance, mon cher?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

You nodded, unable to speak, and let him lead you onto the makeshift dance floor. The world around you faded into the background as the music enveloped you both. Remy pulled you close, his hand firm on your waist, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. You could feel the rhythm of his heart against your chest, matching the beat of the song.

As the chorus swelled, Remy leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Tout le jour, je pense à toi," he whispered, his French accent thick and enticing. His words, a soft confession of thoughts throughout the day, sent shivers down your spine.

You looked up at him, your own feelings mirrored in his eyes. "And what do you think about, Remy?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, a hint of mischief lighting up his face. "I think about how I wanna dance witchu under de stars every night," he replied, his voice smooth as silk.

The song continued, each note a testament to the growing connection between you. Remy's hand slid gently up your back, sending sparks of desire through you. You closed your eyes for a moment, lost in the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the world reduced to just the two of you and the music.

When you opened your eyes again, Remy was watching you, his expression tender. "You look beautiful tonight, mon cœur ," he said, his gaze sincere.

You blushed, ducking your head slightly. "Thank you," you murmured, your heart pounding in your chest.

The song reached its crescendo, the notes soaring into the night sky. Remy spun you lightly, then drew you back against him, his arms encircling you tightly. You felt safe, cherished, in his embrace.

As the final strains of the song faded away, Remy bowed low over your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Until next time, ma belle," he whispered, his voice filled with promise.

You stood there, your hand still tingling from his touch, as he straightened and gave you one last, lingering look before turning to rejoin the crowd. The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting, as you stood there, lost in the afterglow of the dance and the secrets shared beneath the Spanish moss.

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again — 3

series link ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread

charles couldn’t believe it. oxford.

he obviously knew she wanted to be a writer or journalist but oxford? he felt a pang in his chest when it dawned on him, he really hadn’t been updated with her.

every time he was out with her, she would ask any updates on him.

he opens the letter, against his better judgement, and feels proud.

“I am glad to inform you that the department of english has provisionally agreed to admit you” he whispers the words to himself, glancing at her house.

he runs inside his house to seal the envelope again and slips it under her door with a small smile.

over the course of 3 months, charles, again, has a new girlfriend. yn hasn’t told anyone but her family about oxford. though to others, something has shifted in her. charles thinks it’s because her she can stop worrying about not getting into college.

it’s a warm summer night when the yln’s and leclerc’s are all gathered. yn tells the leclerc’s she’s going to leave soon, except charles, who is no where to be found until he enters the house with his girlfriend on his arm.

this had never happened; charles introducing a girl to his family

they all looked at each other

“ah! everyone, meet my girlfriend, cindy” charles shuts the door as the brunette girl with red lips smiles, introducing herself to her and his family.

yn’s stomach sinks, her breathing slows down, and she inhales sharply. cindy was jaw droppingly gorgeous and seemingly sweet.

“you must be yn, charles’ best friend!” she reaches yn at the end of the table and offers her a hug, yn awkwardly accepts. a bit of putting alcohol on the wound.

she sits back down for a while, staring at her empty plate while lorenzo and kylie make eye contact.

“excuse me” she pushes her chair and goes to the kitchen, stumbling into the dark pantry, and she shuts the door

she grips on one of the shelves to steady herself before she covers her mouth, tears falling helplessly on her new sundress.

she shakes as silent sobs escape her mouth and the pantry door opens. she winces as she looks up to see lorenzo switching the light on. he looks behind him to see charles smiling with his family and cindy before lorenzo embraces yn. no words are exchanged, but a quiet understanding.

they pull away and she tiptoes out the backdoor to make her way back to her room. she wipes her tears, glancing at the mirror for a second before retouching her makeup. eventually she makes it back to the table hearing about charles’ girlfriend and her accomplishments.

she folds her arm and clutches the other as she feels her eyes wander towards charles’ light touches on cindy.

yn’s lips remained still that night, muttering a few words here and there.

and just like that september night, charles makes his way to her room a little past midnight.

“what is your problem with her?” he barges in “who?” “cindy!” “what did i do to her, charles” she scoffs “she was nice and you just left!” “nothing is wrong with her, charles. she’s kind”

“arrête de mentir! stop lying!” he raises his voice “Je mens pas! iQu'est ce qui te ferais penser ça? !i’m not lying! what would make you think that?!”

“because you are hiding things from me!” “comme quoi, charles! like what!” how dare he accu-

“Comme quand tu as déposé une candidature à Oxford et que tu as été prise. like how you applied to oxford and got in” the silence was too loud for both of them. “Je pensais qu'on était meilleurs amis et qu'on se disait tout. I thought we were best friends and we tell each other everything” he adds

“i am sorry for not telling you, but that’s just it, charles! I will always be the best friend and i know it won’t change but i’m sick and tired of being here when i don’t even see my purpose here anymore!”

“why would you want to change being best frien- oh”

“do you know how it felt to be there? too in love with you whilst you introduced ‘the girl you will marry’ to your family, whom i consider my own?” the tears were starting to fall down her face

“it hurts charles knowing that you will never see me the same way i see you. and i can’t even blame you because it’s not your fault!

somewhere in between our friendship i fell in love with you and it’s my fault that i couldn’t control it”

her heart was bursting with pain and relief.

charles stood there frozen. how was he supposed to act to his best friend being in love with him? it was not even a little crush. charles would always admit that she was pretty, charming, smart, hardworking, respectful, maybe a little blunt and stubborn sometimes, but he did not think of her in that way.

he felt the unsettling need to run away and take a moment to absorb everything, yn could clearly see that.

“you don’t need to say anything, you can go” she whispered and he nodded. for the first time, he shut the door without looking back, staring at the stair case. on the other side of the door, yn already felt warm liquid flowing down her face uncontrollably. she promised this would be the last time she would cry over a man.

Enzo Lec.

Hi, Yn. How are you holding up? 🙂

Yn

Hi, Enzo:) As good as I can be? I’m not really sure… How is he?

Enzo Lec.

Quiet and different. When are you leaving?

Yn

Next week I’m not entirely confident I can say bye to him

Enzo Lec.

You can’t just leave without saying bye, Yn. What happens when you come back?

Yn

You and I both know I’m not coming back, Enzo🫤 And besides, he’ll probably be in F2 or F1 by then, traveling more

Enzo Lec.

Just because he doesn’t love you the way you do yet doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you

Yn

That’s the part that hurts the most

Sorry but I don’t really want to talk about it anymore

Enzo Lec.

Alright, but at least try to say bye, okay? And to me and the others 😅

Yn

Of course Aren’t you dropping me off the airport?

Enzo Lec.

I was just double checking 🤪

Yn

Haaaa Haaaa Very funny *gets stranded in house with no ride* [ Enzo Lec reacted with 🤣] Night enzo, thanks:)

Enzo Lec.

Good night, Yn:) We’re all proud of you

[ Yn reacted with ❤️]

the week was met with silence between the two. everyone knew yn was leaving.

pascale, the first to show up in her room and help her pack while chatting. arthur, to come over her room and steal things she didn’t need. hervé, to wish her a good luck in her new chapter. lorenzo, to maybe get her to talk to charles. but charles never came.

it was the day before she left when she knew they weren’t going to see each other. she took matters i to her own hands and started writing.

one thing about yn was she wasn’t the best at verbally communicating. but writing down letters was much easier to her.

lorenzo had driven yn to the nice airport with pascale. charles’ location unknown, and her family was busy supporting kylie with her booming business.

she wanted it like this though, a quiet send off with people she considered her family.

her things were all out of the car and hugs were exchanged. she bit her lip before pulling out a scarlet envelope from her handbag. “see to it he gets it, okay?” yn hands it to lorenzo as he nods with a smile.

charles arrives home and his heart speeds as he sees the whole y/l/n household in pitch black.

he rushes inside his home to a quiet dinner. he makes his way to the table “where is she?” he runs his hand though his hair. lorenzo hands him the envelope.

“she’s gone?” he whispers as he looks at the envelope and they all look at each other

he walks outside, glancing at the empty house beside him. he lets his fingers glide over the ink ‘charles’ outside the envelope before opening it.

dearest charles,

i’m sorry about the way we left things, i really am. even more so that i could not bring myself to talk to you face to face.

but tomorrow i leave for london (today if you’ve read it as i planned). you’ve probably already heard that but for my peace of mind, i am writing you this letter.

you are extraordinary. every part of you is special charles, on and off track. all your kindness, thoughtfulness, talent, determination, patience, love, and more. i hope you never lose that in you.

this setback will never mean i won’t support you from a far; because i will. i heard you got into the drivers academy and i am so so proud of you. i never doubted you. i’m sorry i wasn’t there to celebrate with you.

i know things will never be the same as they were and for that, i am sorry. but i’ll never be sorry for loving you the way i did even if i, or we, ended up in pain; loving you is never a mistake. never let anyone make you think that.

it hurt too much to see you with other girls and quarrel over it and i promised myself i wouldn’t cry over you again. if i saw you with cindy again, i’d be breaking that promise.

maybe not my place to say but please don’t let girls get in your current relationship’s way:) there’s so much more left unsaid but i think this is enough for now. i wish you always the best. i wish you the happiness and success you deserve. don’t let anything define you but yourself

love,

yn

he lets out the breath he was holding once he finishes it. his lips quiver and his eyes gloss as he walks back inside the house. they all look at him.

“she is gone?” he whispers again and lorenzo nods. as it sinks in, his head starts to nod softly and he looks down at the letter. drops of tears falling onto the cream envelope.

“i think she was the one. the one even if i can not realize it now” he licks his lips and places his hand under his chin.

pascale stands up and embraces him, leading him to his room. “let‘s get you resting, hm?” charles mumbles something and he falls asleep that night, holding that letter, gripping onto every word.

he has to make it in f1, for you.

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yn.yln.16

oxford, oxfordshire

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yn.yln.16 new chapter. bring it on!!!

view all 102 comments

classmate1 AAA CONGRATS YN!!🤍🤍

pascale_leclerc 😍😍❤️

lorenzotl Oxford is lucky to have you!

kylie_yln 🥹❤️

charles_leclerc Congrats, yn! :)

[ You can not comment on this post. Follow yn.yln.16 to comment ]

Charlie ❤️

Hello, Y/n/n :) I received your letter… I made a big mistake letting you go. I am stupid for realizing it too late. Can I call you?

[ Yn did not receive this message.]

[tommydarlings]

the sound of the rain | c.l

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: nothing, just sad!charles

w/c: 0.9k

summary: while charles plays the piano and listens to the rain, he can only think of one thing… you — and how you cannot sit next to him anymore.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

As Charles sat on the small stool in front of his piano and listened to how the droplets crashed almost violently against his windows, he could only think of one thing.

Of one person.

You.

His fingers, that were still decorated with the same, familiar rings, danced along the white and black piano keys with slow and gentle movements, fingertips only grazing the keys while his eyes didn’t leave the wet windows.

His mind was blank — no, it was actually filled, filled with painful emptiness, emptiness that would have never consumed his mind if you would have been here by his side.

If you just would have been sitting on the small leather stool next to him, his mind would be filled with all kinds of things.

Love. Devotion. Passion. Peace. Adoration. And even more love.

But now he had no reason anymore to fill his chaotic mind with those things.

He sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks, landing either on the keys of his piano or on his fingers, one even gliding down his silver ring.

“G-God, Tu me manques tellement mon amour,” I miss you so much, my love, Charles didn’t let his eyes drift off of the rain outside, his blue with tears-filled eyes matching the big blue sky which was crying as well.

Charles gulped, “you’re crying with me, ma chérie, hmm?” He cried out, slowly letting his head hang low as he let his fingers play a melody that he heard oh so many times before, and he could never get tired of it.

“You loved it when I was playing that… know you did,” he wiped his nose with the back of his hand before he went back to playing with both hands, “Et je t'aimais,” and I loved you, Charles bit his bottom lip as he felt it quivering in pure and utter grief.

His fingers danced along the keys as his eyes blinked fresh tears away to focus more on the loud rain landing on the concrete and the glass of the windows.

He cleared his throat and furrowed his brows, looking at the dark clouds now, “What nonsense am I talking, baby,” he shook his head, “I still love you of course…always did, always will,” he quietly mumbled to himself, salty tears making his top lip shine.

“I will never stop loving you, mon amour,“ he shook his head, sighing before he closed his eyes, fingers still dancing along the keys, “how could I? Any man that carries the ability to stop loving a women like you has for sure never experienced a love like yours, of course he hasn’t when you gave it all to me.”

He looked at the droplets of rain again, lightly furrowing his brows with a sniffle, “Dieu, j'ai de la chance d'être aimé par une femme comme toi,” God am I lucky to be loved by a women like you, Charles whispered into the cold air, glassy eyes staring at the sky before he whined.

The monaguesque shook his head and closed his eyes, trying his best to get lost in the melody he was currently creating with the tips of his fingers.

“This is — once again — is dedicated to you, mon amour,” he wiped his cheek on his T-Shirt and looked next to the empty space on his stool, “Comme toutes les autres mélodies, notes et paroles étaient dédiées à toi, mon amour,” Just like every other melody, note and lyrics was dedicated to you, my love.

He continued playing the familiar melody that you adored so much, each time he played it, you gasped and immediately ran towards his spit on the piano and sat down next to him, lovingly leaning your head against his shoulder.

Unintentionally, Charles tilted his head slightly to the right, almost as if his cheek was desperately craving the touch of your hair that always grazed his face when you sat next to him.

“Oh ce que je donnerais pour vous avoir assise ici à côté de moi une dernière fois, même si c'est des encres pour une seule seconde, ça ne me dérange pas, toute quantité de temps passé avec vous en est une autre,” Oh what I would give to have you sitting here next to me one last time, even if it’s only for one single second, I don’t mind, any amount of time spent with you is another moment in life I’m endlessly greatful for.

He cleared his throat, sniffling again, “I-If you want m-me to continue playing this f-for you, my love…just t-tell me-”

And before he even finished his sentence, a tiny stone hit his window.

Sane people may say that it was simply the storm that threw the stone against the thick glass next to him, but Charles was not convinced, he was sure that his lover threw the tiny stone at his window from above.

Probably with a smile on her face, her perfectly soft, lightly red-shaded lips sending him a tender smile so familiar and warm that it made Charles unintentionally smile, tears hitting his two dimples now.

“A-Alright, mon amour,” he chuckled, wiping his nose again before he started playing again,

“Your wish is my command…as always,” Charles mumbled to himself, — no, to you of course, — smile not being able to leave his tears-stained face now as he watched how his talented fingers danced along the keys in the most familiar but also in the most painful way possible.

[sanzaibian]

I turns off my phone angrily. I have barely touched down to Pudong International Airport, and now I have to call my Shanghai agent about how I’m going to be late, and that “China Eastern”, that company full of crooks, doesn’t even want to compensate my $4200 business class ticket for being 2 hours late.

“Allô ? C’est Julien, je suis enfin arrivé à Shanghai. (Hello ? It’s Julien, I’ve finally touched down at Shanghai.)” I say to my local correspondent, the one responsible for dragging me here.

- Enfin ! Ça fait une heure qu’on vous attend ! (Finally ! We’ve been waiting for you for a whole hour !)

- C’est pas ma faute ! Le vol a eu deux heures de retard à cause de soi-disants ‘vents forts’ vers la Mongolie… et ces escrocs ne veulent rien me rembourser… typique… (It’s not my fault ! The flight was two hours late due to so-called ‘powerful winds’ around Mongolia… and those crooks don’t want to reimburse me… typical…)” I answer, annoyed.

- Bon, de l’Aéroport de 浦東 (Pudong) jusqu’ici… pff… je vais devoir leur dire de revenir cet après-midi… (So, from 浦東 (Pudong) Airport to here… ugh… I need to ask them to come back this afternoon…)” He says, similarly annoyed, though seemingly flaunting his perfect pronunciation in Chinese.

- Ne râle pas sur moi, j’ai rien fait ! Je savais que j’aurais dû prendre Air France, ils n’auraient pas eu de retard comme ces asiates… (Don’t dump it on me, I did nothing ! I knew I should have gone for Air France, they wouldn’t be late like those chinks…)

- Roh… (Ugh…)” He sighs a while. “Je vais m’occuper de tout. Juste… viens aussi vite que possible. (I’ll manage. Just… come here as soon as you can.)”

I turn off the phone. As if I would waste a minute of my life… I’m Julien Blanc, and my time is money, just like the saying goes. As the heir of a multi-million dollars worth banking company, I have investments left right and center, and can’t let the next golden goose escape me.

Recently, a well-known investor, Pierre Zhang, let me know of a promising startup here in Shanghai. While at first I was understandingly skeptical, after all chinks are known for their plagiarism, I did check the project and found it to be unique, and even viable.

While I do know that Pierre Zhang is half one of them, so he does take their side much more than a regular person would, this time he saw a good opportunity. And it will be botched due to an incapable company that spouted nonsense about “strong winds” or something and was late as a result.

Angrily, I stomp in the giant airport halls, guiding myself thanks to my impeccable English – though, just don’t listen to the pronunciation. I’m stopped multiple times for security checks, and I do swear on them a couple of times, but they deserved it for wasting my time even more.

However, as I was striding in the main hall in order to find the metro station, seeing more and more of those chink hooligans, one of them shoves me to the side. He’s wearing a mask like the pussy he is, as well as a ridiculous oversized hoodie, some laughable jewelry and undistinguished sweatpants.

He’s left as soon as I turn around, meaning I can’t berate him. Youth these days are really insufferable. Where I grew up, on the Saint-Louis island in Paris, we weren’t even half as rude as today’s kids.

Scoffing, I continue rushing to the metro, though I kind of feel dizzy. Did he give me a disease or something ? When I reach the metro shoot, I see a barrier with policemen. Apparently they’re scanning for the coronavirus – they’re still doing that ? – by checking our temperature.

I go in the barrier, confident that I’ll pass the test, when suddenly, my path is blocked.

“Sorry, sir, please come with me.” Said a policewoman in her heavily accented English.

- What are you doing ! Let me go, I did nothing wrong !” I protest with a similarly accented English.

The policewoman doesn’t answer me and leads me to a small room in the airport. There, I see a bunch of other people with masks, waiting on seats. Showing me a mask, the policewoman explain :

“You may be sick. Take a mask and wait. - I’m going to be late ! Nothing’s wrong with me, just let me leave !” I say, though I don’t notice my accent shifting a little.

- Wear it or face consequences.” The policewoman insists, dangling the mask in front of my eyes. I sigh.

- Okay, but make it quick. I’ll wear 一只 (one).”

I squint my eyes. How did I say ‘one’ ? It feels incorrect, have I accidentally used French ‘un’ ?

I take the mask and wear it, still squinting. I still feel dizzy, so I guess the policewoman must have been right ? I take my phone out, wanting to send a quick message to Pierre about me being late, but something seems wrong.

When I look on my phone, there’s a weird app named 抖音 that has been installed. I don’t remember doing that. In fact, why is there even a Chinese app on my phone !

I click on it, and suddenly, videos start playing. I squint my eyes as I look at the videos of ch… Chinese people doing a variety of things. First it’s a video of a cat rubbing on someone, and that guy exclaimed “它真的是只饥渴死的猫啊！”, with then the woman filming answering, with a hurried tone “快摸它啊，你干嘛在那儿等呗？真冷啊。”. Even though I don’t understand a word that is said, I can guess that the woman is telling the guy to go rub the cat.

It’s funnier than I expected. Turns out the Chinese have more humor than I thought. Then, another video comes on, showing a guy, looking just like that punk from earlier, saying “穿这种衣服，我干嘛不会感丢人哎？(… these clothes… … lose face ?)”, and the camera pans out to a woman in a cockroach outfit. The punk continues “你已经三十岁了，为什么还在买这种衣服了？(… thirty years old, why still buy… ?)”, the woman answers “你现在我穿什么你都要管吗？(You... right now what I wear… your business ?)”. The punk then comes back into frame, with the woman on the left, asking “没有情侣版��？哪只手我该牵啊？(There isn’t a couple’s version ? Which hand should I hold ?). Then, the woman shows a tendril, and they hold hands like that. I smile, finding it way funnier than it should.

I don’t really notice how I understand more and more what’s on 抖音 (Douyin), though I do let myself grow limp on the waiting room chair. I guess I don’t have much regards anymore for how I look, after all I’m waiting for a coronavirus test. Nobody’s going to comment on my posture !

The next video shows three guys running, with the caption 三人跑步时能干什么 (What can three people do while running together ?), and I see how their hair bop up and down. I’ve been shaving myself bald for quite a few years, ever since I was balding too much for me to bother with hair, but seeing these guys like that makes me a bit nostalgic of that time.

Seeing them doing stupider and stupider stuff, and smiling more and more as they show bungee jumping, doing pull-ups, playing games, stir-frying and even boxing, I feel a bit weird. Like I can kind of relate, in my youth I also did crazy things, and it would absolutely be something I would have done with my friends. I scratch my head, feeling it tingle, as I continue watching the next video, not even realizing my squinting is less and less strenuous.

The videos continue trickling in, every one more humorous than the last, and I catch myself chuckling out loud multiple times. By now, I understand everything very clearly, and when a doctor comes to do a coronavirus test, I don’t even blink when he addresses me in Chinese :

“少年，请跟我进走。(Young man, please enter with me.)

- Yes, 先生。(Yes, sir.)” I answer, mixing English and Chinese.

Everything is confused as he takes me to a machine, my thoughts mixing French, English and Chinese. Even my clothes feel… less tight than they used to. Almost as if they were melting and becoming glue.

I take place in the machine and he activates it. I feel as if things become clearer while I’m in. Like, for example, why was I stressed just now ? I don’t have anything important to do right now. And why languages are mixed ? I guess it’s because it’s cooler to mix in English…

The machine stops, and I leave it, scratching my straight hair. Had I ? … no, of course not, it’s my facial hair that I shave…

The doctor hands me my piercings.

“Euh, attendez, 先生，有什么不对了…… (Er, wait, sir, there’s something that’s not right.)” I ask, mixing French and Chinese. I really feel like something is not right.

- 什么发生过了？会跟我谈一谈。(What happened ? You can discuss it with me.)

- 我……有个奇怪的感受。Est-ce que 您找到了种疾病吗？(I… have a weird feeling. Did you find some kind of disease ?)

- 没有。但是您不舒服的话我肯定会给您扑热息痛。(I didn’t. However, if you don’t feel good, I can give you some paracetamol.)” He answers me, with a helpful look.

- 该好了。Merci. (It should be good. Thank you.)”

I take the pill he gives me, and put my piercings back on as I go back in the terminal. As I walk, I feel very comfy, as if everything was alright. I look down on my large oversized hoodie with its colorful prints. I feel like I’m in my youth once again… huh, it’s so weird to say that when I’m only... 23 years old !

Suddenly, I get a phone call from a weird contact I don’t remember having, someone named 张皮尔 (Zhang Pi’er/Pierre). I accept the call :

“喂。是谁？(Hello. Who’s there ?)” I ask, with a perfect accent.

- Julien ? Pourquoi tu parles chinois ? (Julien ? Why do you speak Chinese ?)” He groans, then switches to Chinese. “是我问您是谁。是您的电话吗？(I’m the one asking you who you are. Is it your phone ?)

- 当然是。我是个富二代，为啥要偷手机啊？(Of course. I have a trust fund, why would I steal a phone ?)” I slur, my speech becoming more and more relaxed.

- 嗯……那您是谁啊？您认不认识Julien Blanc ? (Ugh… So who are you ? Do you know Julien Blanc ?)

- 是白炬亮。那你到底是谁啊？(I’m Bai Juliang. And now can you tell me who you are ?)

- 是张皮尔……嗯……听我说一下。你有没有多钱会投资？我认为了Julien Blanc要投资新项目，但你还会投资一下。有没有兴趣？(I’m Pierre Zhang… ugh… Listen. Do you have a lot of money to invest ? I thought Julien Blanc would come and invest in a new project, but you can still invest. Are you interested ?)”

I think for a while. It could be great to have some money coming from another place than my parents’ company… plus, I don’t want to have to join it, or risk being cut off from my money…

However, there’s time, I’m still young, and there’s no rush right now… Plus, having work is, like, a lot of work, and I don’t want to work… But I have an idea.

“张先生，你想不想跟我投资？我给了你钱币，你给了我专业，收入分两半。感觉好吗？(Mr. Zhang, do you want to invest with me ? I give you the funds, you give me the expertise, and we divide the profits in half. Do you like that ?)”

After a while, he answers :

“感觉好了。(I think it’s good.)”

[corse2b]

l’île de la Giraglia. Cap Corse.

Tout au bout du chemin dans le cap corse on peut apercevoir l’île de la Giraglia au nord-est de la Corse. Cet étonnant rocher soufflé par les vents est souvent frappé par les tempêtes, Ce qui isole cet île du reste du monde,Avec un point culminant à plus de 60 mètres en partant du niveau de la mer, l’île de la Giraglia mesure à peu près 50m de large, et 800m de long.

Le 1er Janvier 1848, une puissante lumière éclaira le ciel touchant la pointe nord de l’énorme rocher. Ce qui a donné naissance au phare de la Giraglia

source : corse2b.Fevrier.2024.

the island of Giraglia. Cape Corsica.

At the end of the path in the Corsican cape you can see the island of Giraglia in the north-east of Corsica. This astonishing rock blown by the winds is often hit by storms, which isolates this island from the rest of the world. With a highest point at more than 60 meters from sea level, the island of Giraglia measures little nearly 50m wide, and 800m long.

On January 1, 1848, a powerful light illuminated the sky touching the northern tip of the enormous rock. Which gave birth to the Giraglia lighthouse.

source: corsican2b.February.2024.

[au-jardin-de-mon-coeur]

Bœuf Bourguignon

Ce ragoût campagnard français classique est parfait pour les mois d'hiver. Copieux, mais pas lourd, il combine les mariages parfaits de légumes d'hiver réconfortants comme les carottes, les oignons et les panais avec la saveur réconfortante du bœuf, du bacon et une touche de cognac. Il se conserve également très bien pour les restes, vous pouvez donc le préparer la veille et le réfrigérer toute la nuit également.

Ingrédients

1 cuillère à soupe d'huile d'olive extra vierge

8 tranches de bacon coupées épaisses

2 livres de bœuf coupé en cubes de 2 pouces

sel au goût

poivre noir au goût

1 gros oignon jaune coupé en dés

2 échalotes coupées en dés

4 gousses d' ail hachées

3/4 lb de carottes pelées et tranchées

1/4 lb de panais pelés et tranchés

1/2 tasse de cognac

1 bouteille de vin rouge sec

2 tasses de bouillon de boeuf

1 cuillère à soupe plus 1 cuillère à café de concentré de tomate

3/4 cuillère à café de feuilles de thym séchées

4 cuillères à soupe de beurre non salé fondu

3 cuillères à soupe de farine

1 lb d'oignons perlés surgelés

1 lb de champignons de Paris bruns coupés en tranches épaisses

1 cuillère à soupe de thym frais coupé en dés

Instructions

Préchauffez le four à 250 degrés. Faites chauffer l'huile dans une grande cocotte ou une marmite allant au four jusqu'à 250 degrés à feu moyen. Ajoutez le bacon et faites-le cuire jusqu'à ce qu'il soit croustillant des deux côtés. Retirez le bacon et réservez-le.

Séchez les cubes de bœuf avec du papier absorbant et saupoudrez-les de sel et de poivre. Faites-les cuire par lots jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient dorés de chaque côté, en veillant à ce qu'ils forment une couche uniforme au fond de la casserole, environ 5 minutes. Retirez-les et réservez-les.

Ajoutez les oignons, les échalotes et l'ail dans la poêle et faites revenir jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient translucides, environ 10 minutes, en remuant toutes les quelques minutes. Ajoutez les carottes et les panais et laissez cuire encore 5 minutes. Ajoutez le cognac et reculez, utilisez une allumette pour l'allumer afin de brûler l'alcool. Lorsque le feu s'éteint, coupez le bacon croustillant en petits morceaux et remettez-le ainsi que le bœuf dans la casserole.

Ajoutez le vin et suffisamment de bouillon de bœuf pour couvrir toute la viande et les légumes. Ajoutez la pâte de tomate et le thym et portez le mélange à ébullition.

Couvrir, retirer du feu et mettre au four pour poursuivre la cuisson pendant 1 heure 15 minutes à 1 heure 30 minutes, ou jusqu'à ce que le bœuf soit tendre et les légumes bien cuits. Retirer du four et remettre sur le feu à feu moyen-doux.

Fouetter ensemble 2 cuillères à soupe de beurre fondu et la farine jusqu'à obtenir une pâte épaisse. Incorporer cette pâte au ragoût jusqu'à ce qu'elle se désintègre, puis ajouter les oignons grelots surgelés.

Dans une casserole de taille moyenne, faites revenir les champignons dans les 2 cuillères à soupe de beurre restantes à feu moyen-élevé jusqu'à ce qu'ils noircissent et deviennent légèrement ridés, environ 6 à 10 minutes. Ajoutez les champignons au ragoût et baissez le feu pour laisser mijoter.

Laissez cuire encore 20 minutes avant de retirer du feu. Salez et poivrez à votre goût, décorez de thym frais et servez immédiatement.

Bon Appétit à toutes et tous ! 😋

Spéciale dédicace pour mon amie @olgaromana avec cette recette bien française ! 😉

[blossom-works]

Sharing is Caring

For the first time in his life, Kylian Mbappe shoves a man against a wall.

"Alright, listen here you little punk. You don't stand a chance with her, okay? Elle était à moi en premier." She was mine first.

"Babe, that's enough."

"Non, il doit comprendre qu’il ne peut pas vous avoir pour lui-même." Kylian's grip on the person tightens so they do not fall. As annoyed as he is, he does not want to get in trouble for hurting them. No, he needs to understand that he can't have you for himself.

You look at your husband in disbelief. Is he seriously doing this? "He's your son for crying out loud! And he's only five months old!"

Honestly, you cannot believe what you are witnessing right now. All of a sudden when you were cuddling with your son, Kylian scooped him up and (carefully) pinned him against the nearby wall.

"So? He better learn how to share now." Kylian's nose is almost touching Matthew's nose. You quickly whip out your phone to take a picture to capture your husband's dorkiness.

"Tu m'entends, mon fils ? Tu ne peux pas l'avoir pour toi tout seul." Your husband lightly plants his forehead on Matthew's. To make the scene more comical, Matthew's eyes cross because he is trying to focus on his father's face. Not knowing what is happening or what his father is trying to say, Matthew makes light of the situation. This is all fun and games to him. Do you hear me, my son? You can't have it all to yourself.

Instead of eating his father's nose like in the video you saw on social media, Matthew does something better. Or well, worse in Kylian's case. The pressure Kylian is putting on Matthew's stomach to make sure he stands upright is a tad too much, causing the baby to throw up on his father's face. Disgusted, Kylian wants to jump back and wipe his face of the substance, but doing so would result in dropping his son.

Camera in hand, you stand there in complete shock. You try to stifle your laughter, but this is just too funny not to laugh at. "You showed him who's the man, huh Matt?" You are practically in a fetal position from how hard you are laughing. Kylian so badly wants to tell you to gather yourself and get him a rag, but the throw-up on his mouth tells him to keep his mouth shut.

When you finally catch a breath, you take a picture of the horrendous scene.

"For the books, baby." Still laughing, you go to the kitchen to wet a towel. You give it to Kylian who has been holding a hand out this entire time and take Matthew from his dirty father.

"Let's go give you a bath, huh? How does that sound?" You carefully bounce Matthew on your hip (to avoid meeting the same fate as Kylian). While you whisk Matthew upstairs to your bathroom, Kylian is standing in the living room, wondering what he had done to deserve this. He grimaces when he tastes something foul in his mouth. Using his speed he goes to the nearest sink to wash the taste out.

Matthew, who has no idea what just happened other than he was playing with his father, wants to do this again! Dada has never held him that close before and standing up in the air like that is awesome! Again! Again!

[charlesslut16]

-lovers-

here are the other parts : (1) , (2) 

summary : after the kiss you and charles talk about what is between the two of you...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : badly translated french

note : wrote this, while watching the monaco gp qualifying. Sorry if there are mistakes

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

You stepped away from charles, so your lips couldn't touch anymore. You looked at his face, his eyes, with confusion. What was happening ? Just as you wanted to say something, he interrupted you.

"Y/n I need you to love me, like I love you. I need you to hold on to me, like I hold on to you. I need you to need me. Because this would mean, you can't see the possibility without me. Just like I do with you. "

Speechless. That was what you were. You didn't know what was happening. Just three weeks ago you hated each other, well you didn't hate him, you just thought he hated you. But you were so wrong.

You wanted to say something again, but he put his finder on your lip to silence you.

"You have no idea how far I would go for you, ma jolie fille." charles said, putting a wet piece of your hair behind your ear. My pretty girl.

"Je te donnerais la lune et les étoiles et tout un putain d’univers, si cela signifiait que tu es la femme la plus heureuse du monde." I would give you the moon and the stars and a whole fucking universe, if it would mean you are the happiest woman alive.

In the sky, the clouds started clearing up, as your mind cleared up too, which left you with only one question in your mind. You were stunned. The words charles said, and your heart jumped in your chest.

"You taste like the sweetest drug, mon couer. Like my dearrest addiction" charles growled. "created only for me."

Your breathing started going faster, as you heard his words. Your pulse beating faster by every second that passed. Maybe he was your drug, that you couldn't have enough of.

"God. I can't get enough of you." He rasped. "Everyone says drugs are your death, tell me why I feel so alive when I see you or when I'm with you."

"I... I don't know what to say." you stuttered. "Only that..." you swallowed, took a deep breath and continued. "I think I should go."

Charles bent down to your neck and groaned, as you said that. "You're it for me, baby. It's okay if you're not ready for me yet. Je t’attendrai pour l’éternité s’il le faut, mon coeur." I will wait for you for eternity if I must, my heart. 

"I will wait a lifetime for you if I must." Charles lifted his head to look into your eyes. In them was, confusion, love and most of all, adoration. Then he whispered. "You are worth all the waiting."

At that moment, Charles thought, that was the end. That you had made up your mind and that you didn't want him or the relationship. But then you kissed him. 

You moaned in his mouth when charles pulled you even closer to him.

 "À partir de maintenant, je ne te laisse jamais partir. Jamais. Aujourd’hui, j’ai vu que tu es la seule chose dont j’ai besoin. La course est importante pour moi, mais vous êtes aussi important que la course." From now on, I'm never letting you go. Never. Today made me see that you are the only thing that I need. Racing is important to me, but you are as important, as racing.

You stepped away from his, to say. "Alors, tu vas me demander d’être ta petite amie ou quoi?" Charles chuckled at your aswer, pulling you close to him, pulling your chin up, so you could look at him. So, are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend or what?

"Y/n, mon coeur. Est-ce que tu me donnes l’honneur et que tu es ma petite amie ? " Y/n, my heart. Do you give me the honor and be my girlfriend? 

"I'm not sure. Let me think about it" you answered with a small smirk on your lip, as you saw charles jaw drop.

"oui. I will be your girlfriend, charlie"

Charles composted himself, putted on hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, cradling in the process. You looked in his eyes, seeing happiness. And he looked in yours and saw adoration.

That's when Charles realized, he would do everything for you. No matter the consequences.

[empiredesimparte]

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Episode III, N°2 | Belgisim, 15 Thermidor An 230

Francesim takes over the presidency of the Europeansim Council for 6 months. Headed by the young Emperor Napoleon V, he will have to propose political solutions to the various crises affecting the continent. In his speech, His Imperial Majesty mentioned the insecurity affecting E.U. member states, referring to the terrorists who assassinated Queen Viviana I and Emperor Napoleon IV.

Collaboration with @funkyllama and @officalroyalsofpierreland

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

La Francesim entre à la présidence du Conseil Européensim pour 6 mois. À sa tête, le jeune empereur Napoléon V qui devra proposer des solutions politiques aux diverses crises qui touchent le continent. Dans son discours, Sa Majesté Impériale mentionne l'insécurité qui touche les états-membres de l'U.E, en faisant référence aux terroristes qui ont assassiné la reine Viviana I et l'empereur Napoléon IV.

(Napoléon) Bonjour tout le monde ! Je suis heureux de vous annoncer la présidence française au Conseil Européensim. L'U.E est plus qu'une zone euro et des accords économiques. Nous les Français devons être les gardiens d'une nouvelle harmonie européenne. Défendre les droits de l'Homme est ma priorité absolue, tout comme le droit des femmes. C'est le credo des Français. Toutes les tentatives de déstabiliser la démocratie seront dévoilées et combattues. Nous devons renforcer la sécurité des Européens et calmer les tensions entre les états-membres. Ramenons la paix et la prospérité que notre continent mérite.