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monzabee · 1 year

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this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming – cl16

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Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?”

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.”

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion.

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig.

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?”

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues.

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?”

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?”

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head.

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought.

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.”

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.”

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat.

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.”

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body.

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help.

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!”

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?”

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd.

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.”

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.”

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.”

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?”

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.”

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.”

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention.

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.”

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.”

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.”

“Why not?” He asks, amused.

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice.

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides.

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him.

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes.

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands.

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.”

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him.

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.”

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door.

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move.

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!”

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt.

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.”

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center.

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.”

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks.

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?”

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage.

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.”

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.”

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver.

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look).

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.”

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher.

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look.

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.”

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.”

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.”

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.”

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.”

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips.

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face.

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.”

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today.

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car.

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him.

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair.

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion.

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.”

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.”

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.”

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face.

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone.

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.”

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.”

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.”

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.”

“I can’t wait, chérie.”

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you.

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look.

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?”

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster.

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering.

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant.

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.”

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time.

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.”

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table.

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs.

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.”

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer.

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk.

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death.

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.”

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples.

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.”

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table.

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces.

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?”

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend.

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs.

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.”

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.”

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips.

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.”

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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emjayewrites · 20 days

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fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (2/10)

SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.

PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu @trinitoldyouso

A/N: Please let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist. I don't know a lot about Cameroonian culture, but I tried...

Zuri slumped on the couch, flicking mindlessly through channels on Aurélien's massive TV. Three days in this fancy house, and she'd barely seen her "fiancé." He was always rushing off to practice or meetings, leaving her alone in this unfamiliar place.

"Some marriage this is gonna be," she muttered, tossing the remote aside.

Her mind drifted back to how this chaos began. Last year, her dad Ernest had spent months in Cameroon, supposedly checking on grandma and some cousins. Turns out, he was also playing matchmaker with his old school buddy – Aurélien's dad. Two single kids, two scheming fathers, and bam! Instant engagement.

At first, Zuri had laughed it off. "Yeah, right," she'd told her friends. "Like arranged marriages are still a thing." But then the elders got involved, declaring it a "strong match." And when the elders speak, you shut up and nod, even if you're an American-born girl whose closest connection to Cameroon was the dashiki hanging in her closet and her mother's cooking.

Zuri grimaced, remembering the elders' disapproving looks. They'd practically sneered at her Americanized ass whenever she visited, with her broken Bamum, vague knowledge of Bamileke traditions, and even worse French. In their eyes, Aurélien was the golden boy – all traditional and strong.

"Maybe he can teach you a thing or two," one elder had said, eyeing her skeptically.

Just last night, Zuri had gone full stalker mode, Googling the hell out of him. Articles about his soccer career, thirst trap photos from events, gossip about his hookups. She had to admit, he was fine as hell. That body was criminal.

"Get it together, Zu," she chided herself. "This isn't some rom-com."

Now, as she sat in his home, reality was hitting her like a ton of bricks. Next month, both families would descend on Madrid to kick off this engagement circus. Cultural ceremonies, bride price talks, all that traditional crap she'd only seen in movies.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do this?" Zuri groaned, burying her face in a throw pillow.

She was a budding influencer, for Christ's sake. Her world was hashtags and sponsored posts, not ancient tribal customs. Yet here she was, about to be married to a stranger, expected to play the perfect Cameroonian bride.

Zuri pulled out her phone, thumb hovering over the Instagram icon. She was itching to post something, anything, to feel like her old self. But she hesitated. Was she even allowed to share this shit? Would Aurélien flip? Would the elders have a collective aneurysm?

"Fuck it," she sighed, putting her phone away. She'd have to figure all of this out eventually. But for now, she was just a lost girl in a strange house, in a foreign country, waiting for a ghost of a husband to acknowledge her existence.

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the lock caught her attention. Zuri's head snapped up, her heart suddenly racing. The front door swung open, and in walked Aurélien, looking every bit the professional athlete he was. His training kit clung to his muscular frame, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

Zeus bounded over to his master, tail wagging furiously. Aurélien bent down to ruffle the dog's fur, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Zuri took a brief moment to glance heavenward. "Are you trying to spite me, Lord?" she muttered under her breath.

Part of her wanted Aurélien to acknowledge her presence, to remember that she was an actual living, breathing human being sharing his space. But another part of her wasn't quite ready to face him. She needed more time to wallow in her misfortune, dammit.

Their eyes met, and Zuri felt a jolt of electricity run through her. Aurélien nodded in her direction. "Hey," he said, his voice deep and slightly rough from exertion.

"Hey," Zuri echoed, scrambling for something to say. "How was, uh… practice?"

Aurélien shrugged as he made his way to the kitchen. "Same as usual," he replied, pulling a water bottle from the fridge.

Zuri found herself unable to look away as he took a long drink. His head tilted back, exposing the strong line of his neck. She watched, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. A drop of water escaped, trailing down his chin and neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt. The flex of his arm as he held the bottle made Zuri's mouth go dry.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive? It was honestly unfair. Here she was, trying to come to terms with this arranged marriage bullshit, and her "fiancé" had to look like he'd just stepped out of a sports drink commercial.

Realizing she'd been staring, Zuri cleared her throat (and her mind), forcing herself to look away. "Cool, cool," she mumbled, internally cringing at how awkward she sounded. This arranged marriage thing was bad enough without her turning into a bumbling idiot every time her future husband walked into the room.

An awkward silence fell between them. Zuri fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, desperately trying to think of something to say. Should she ask about his day? Comment on the weather? Discuss the impending doom of their arranged marriage?

Before she could decide, Aurélien spoke up. "You eat yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning the spotless kitchen.

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, no," she admitted. "I wasn't sure if… I mean, I didn't know if I should…"

Aurélien raised an eyebrow. "If you should what? Eat? It's your house too, you know."

The casualness of his statement hit Zuri like whiplash. Right. This was her house now. Her life. Her future. The reality of it all threatened to overwhelm her again.

Zuri shifted uncomfortably under Aurélien's gaze. "I, uh, had a cup of yogurt with some fruit this morning," she admitted sheepishly.

Aurélien gave her a look, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "And?"

"That's it," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

She didn't want to admit to him that her appetite was out of whack due to the whole "surprise, you're getting married to a stranger" situation. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was some delicate flower who couldn't handle a little life upheaval. Even if that's exactly how she felt at the moment.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "That's not enough," he said, moving towards the fridge. "You need to eat properly."

Zuri watched as he pulled out a large glass dish covered in foil. "What are you doing?"

"Heating up dinner," he replied, turning on the oven. "My chef left some pasta dish as part of my meal prep. It's like a lasagna, but not really. Hope that's okay."

For a moment, Zuri just stared at him, baffled. This man, who she'd barely seen for three days, was suddenly sharing his food with her? The cognitive dissonance was real.

"You don't have to," she started, but Aurélien cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm hungry, you're hungry. It's not a big deal," he said, sliding the dish into the oven.

Zuri found herself at a loss for words. She watched as Aurélien set the timer, his athletic grace apparent even in this simple task. The silence between them was punctuated only by the soft hum of the oven.

"So," Aurélien said after a while, leaning against the counter. "How are you settling in?"

The question caught Zuri off guard. How was she supposed to answer that? 'Oh, you know, just peachy. Love being uprooted from my life and thrown into an arranged marriage. Living the dream!'

Instead, she opted for a noncommittal shrug. "It's… different," she said carefully.

Aurélien nodded, as if he understood completely. "Yeah, I bet. Must be a big change from New York."

Zuri blinked, surprised he knew where she was from. Had he been researching her too?

"You could say that," she murmured, her mind racing. Was this small talk? Were they doing small talk now? God, this was weird. "How'd you know I'm from New York?" Zuri asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Aurélien smirked. "Your accent. Sounds like you're straight from Brooklyn. I've been to enough Knicks games to know how those Brooklynites talk." He then launched into an imitation, his French accent making it sound utterly ridiculous. "Yo, I'm walkin' here!"

Despite herself, Zuri burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, one that surprised even her. Aurélien's lip twitched in response, and he nodded approvingly. "That's dope. Your tooth gem."

Zuri's hand instinctively went to her mouth, touching the small diamond on her incisor. "Thanks," she said, a bit taken aback by the compliment.

"I bet your dad freaked out about that," Aurélien mused.

Zuri rolled her eyes in recognition. "Oh, you have no idea. Just wait until he finds out about my piercing. That'll put him in an early grave."

Aurélien's brow furrowed in confusion. His eyes shifted around her face, then briefly to her slightly visible belly button. "What piercing? Unless he freaks out about ear piercings?"

"Uh... no," Zuri mumbled, her cheeks warming as she realized she'd dug herself into a deeper hole. "My nipples... are pierced."

Realization dawned on Aurélien's face, followed quickly by surprise and something else... was that desire? "Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Oh... that's hot."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. Zuri felt her face grow even warmer, unsure how to respond to her soon-to-be husband calling her nipple piercings "hot."

Aurélien cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the oven timer. "So, uh, dinner should be ready soon," he said, his voice a touch higher than usual.

Zuri nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Great," she managed to squeak out, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

The oven timer broke the awkward silence, its shrill beep making them both jump slightly.

"I'll get it," Aurélien said quickly, moving to retrieve their dinner. The rich aroma of cheese and herbs filled the kitchen as he pulled out the dish.

Zuri watched him dish out two plates, her mind still reeling from their unexpected exchange. She couldn't believe she'd just told him about her nipple piercings. And his reaction… well, that was something she'd have to unpack later.

"So," Aurélien said as he set a plate in front of her, "besides traumatizing your dad with body modifications, what else do you do?"

Zuri snorted, grateful for the attempt at normalcy. "I'm an influencer," she said, bracing herself for the usual skepticism that followed that statement.

Aurélien nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Yeah? What kind of content?"

"Mostly fashion and lifestyle stuff," Zuri explained, twirling pasta around her fork. "Some travel content when I can swing it."

"Sounds interesting," Aurélien said, and to her surprise, he seemed genuinely curious. "How'd you get into that?"

As they ate, Zuri found herself opening up about her career, her goals, her struggles with balancing authenticity and marketability. Aurélien listened attentively, asking questions that showed he was actually paying attention.

"What about you?" Zuri asked eventually, realizing she'd been dominating the conversation. "I mean, I know you play football, but… what else?"

Aurélien shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not much else, honestly. Football takes up most of my time. But I like music, reading when I can, doing a bit of a podcast too. And I've got Zeus, of course."

At the mention of his name, the dog's ears perked up, and he trotted over to Aurélien's side.

"He seems to really love you," Zuri observed, watching as Aurélien absently scratched behind Zeus's ears.

"Yeah, he's a good boy," Aurélien said fondly. Then, glancing at Zuri, he added, "You know, he doesn't usually warm up to strangers so quickly. You must be special."

Zuri felt her cheeks warm again, unsure how to take the compliment. Was he flirting? Or just being nice? This arranged marriage situation was making it hard to read social cues.

"Listen," Aurélien said, his tone turning more serious. "I know this whole situation is… unconventional. But I want you to know, I'm committed to making it work. Whatever that looks like for us."

Zuri nodded slowly, processing his words. "Yeah," she said finally. "Me too. I guess we're in this together, huh?"

Aurélien's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Looks like it. So, truce?"

He extended his hand across the table. Zuri looked at it for a moment before reaching out to shake it, a small smile of her own forming.

"Truce," she agreed.

As their hands touched, Zuri felt a spark of… something. Connection? Possibility? Whatever it was, she realized that maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage wasn't going to be the disaster she'd feared. It was still weird, still not what she'd planned for her life, but sitting here, sharing a meal and conversation with Aurélien, it didn't seem quite so daunting anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

A few days had passed since Aurélien's impromptu dinner with Zuri. He'd been swamped with intense training sessions, preparing for the upcoming match against Atalanta in Warsaw. But despite the physical exhaustion, his mind kept drifting back to that night at the club with Jules, and the image of Zuri's tear-stained face when he'd returned home.

It had stirred something in him. A desire to try, to make an effort, even with all the chaos of his professional life. He owed her that much, at least.

So far, they'd been lucky. The media hadn't caught wind of Zuri yet, but Aurélien knew it was only a matter of time. Especially if she accompanied him to Poland next week. He wondered if it was even a good idea to bring her along, but then again, keeping her hidden away wouldn't solve anything in the long run.

Their recent conversations had revealed something that both amused and concerned him: Zuri didn't know the first thing about football. It was almost endearing, but as the wife of a professional player, it was a gap in knowledge he needed to address, and soon.

Aurélien's mind wandered to their dinner conversation, to Zuri's casual revelation about her nipple piercings. The memory sent an unexpected jolt of heat through him. He'd been trying not to think about it, about her in that way, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

His father's frequent calls didn't help matters. "How are you two getting along?" he'd ask, his tone a mix of concern and expectation. Aurélien would give vague, noncommittal answers, not quite ready to dissect his growing attraction to his arranged bride.

Because attracted he was, there was no denying it. Zuri was exactly his type: a brown-skinned beauty with full, kissable lips. While she wasn't particularly busty, her wide hips more than made up for it in Aurélien's eyes. He found himself stealing glances when she wasn't looking, admiring the way her clothes hugged her curves.

As Aurélien jogged onto the training pitch, he pushed his personal thoughts aside, focusing on the drills ahead. The next few hours were a blur of tactical exercises, sprints, and practice matches. By the time Ancelotti blew the final whistle, Aurélien was drenched in sweat, his muscles aching pleasantly from exertion.

In the locker room, as he was toweling off after his shower, Jude's voice cut through the post-practice chatter.

"Oi, Tchouaméni! We still on for tonight at yours?"

Aurélien froze for a moment, the realization hitting him. He'd completely forgotten about their regular hangouts, where they'd rotate hosting duties at each other's homes.

"Uh, yeah," he managed, his mind racing. "Yeah, we're still on."

Camavinga chimed in, patting his stomach for dramatic effect. "Good, because I'm starving. Your chef better have something good planned."

"Don't forget, Kylian's joining us this time," Jude added, referring to their newest addition to the team, Kylian Mbappé.

As his teammates continued chatting excitedly about the evening plans, Aurélien felt a knot forming in his stomach. How could he have forgotten to mention Zuri's early arrival?

"Uh, guys," he started, his voice cutting through the conversation. "There's something I should probably tell you…"

Jude looked at him curiously. "What's up, mate?"

Aurélien took a deep breath. "My, uh… my fiancée is in Madrid. She's staying at my place."

The locker room fell silent for a moment before erupting into a cacophony of surprised exclamations.

"The fuck?" Camavinga sputtered.

"Since when are you engaged?" another teammate chimed in.

Jude, however, just stared at Aurélien, his eyes wide with surprise. "Mate," he said slowly, "are you telling me she's here already? I thought that wasn't happening until next month."

Aurélien nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally sharing the news. "Yeah, she arrived a few days ago. It was… unexpected."

"Bloody hell," Jude exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you're just telling us now?"

Aurélien fielded questions from his teammates, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He'd only told Jude and Camavinga about the arranged marriage, and trying to explain it to everyone now felt strange and oddly invasive.

"But is she fit though?" one of his teammates asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Aurélien's lips trembled with amusement. "Yeah," he admitted, "she's gorgeous."

As the guys continued to rib him, Aurélien quickly sent a text to Zuri:

"Heads up, some teammates are sliding through tonight."

Her reply came moments later:

"Should I make something?"

He texted back:

"Not necessary."

"I owe you one 😉" came her final response, making him smile despite his nervousness.

Later that evening, the guys arrived at Aurélien's house. They greeted Zeus enthusiastically, ruffling his fur and letting him jump up on them. Suddenly, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.

"Mate, something smells amazing," Jude commented, sniffing the air appreciatively.

The guys made their way to the kitchen, where the aroma of spices and simmering meat filled the air. Zuri stood at the stove, stirring a large pot.

"Not wifey making dinner. I see you, Aurél," Camavinga said with a grin.

Aurélien introduced Zuri to his teammates, trying to ignore the way Cama's eyes lingered on her. She was wearing another one of her baby t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that were criminally short, accentuating her curves.

When he noticed Cama staring a bit too hard at Zuri's ass, Aurélien couldn't help but mush the guy's head playfully. "Eyes up here, bro," he muttered, feeling a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

Zuri turned to greet them all, her smile bright and welcoming. "Hope you guys like ndolé," she said, gesturing to the pot. "It's a traditional Cameroonian dish."

As the guys settled around the kitchen island to eat, Zuri fell into easy conversation with Kylian, Jude, and Camavinga. Aurélien watched, pleasantly surprised at how naturally she interacted with his friends.

Suddenly, Zuri's phone rang. "Excuse me for a sec," she said, stepping out of the kitchen to take the call.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the teasing began.

"Yo, Aurél," Camavinga piped up, "think your dad can find me a wife too? She's a baddie!"

"For real though," Kylian chimed in, "you lucked out, man. She seems cool."

Jude nodded in agreement. "It's great that you're both trying to make it work. Can't wait to tell Lila about this – she's gonna flip!"

After dinner, the guys lounged in Aurélien's living room, plates balanced on their laps, loaded with Zuri's hastily baked cookies and generous scoops of ice cream. The air was thick with laughter and the sweet scent of sugary goodness.

"Yo," Kylian called out, a mischievous glint in his eye, "your girl's got skills. You sure this is an arranged marriage and not you bribing her?"

Aurélien rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small surge of pride he felt at the compliment to Zuri. He watched as she laughed, the sound warming something inside him he didn't quite want to examine yet.

As the night wore on, Aurélien found himself growing increasingly antsy. His teammates seemed determined to know every detail of Zuri's life, and while he appreciated their interest, he couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to shield her from their prying questions.

"Alright, guys," he finally said, clapping his hands together. "It's getting late. Some of us have training in the morning."

A chorus of groans met his announcement, but the guys began to gather their things. Aurélien ushered them out, ignoring their good-natured ribbing about him wanting alone time with his "wifey".

When he returned to the living room, Zuri was already gathering plates and cups. "You don't have to do that," he said, moving to help her.

"It's no big deal," she shrugged. "Your friends are nice."

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the awkwardness from earlier in the week creeping back in now that they were alone.

"Hey," Aurélien said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

Zuri looked up, surprise evident on her face. "Sure, why not?"

They settled on the couch, a respectable distance between them that was quickly filled by Zeus, who flopped down with a contented sigh.

As the credits rolled, Aurélien stretched, reaching for the remote. "Well, that was…"

"Terrible," Zuri finished for him, laughing. "Seriously, who picked that movie?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Guilty as charged. I'll do better next time."

The phrase 'next time' hung in the air between them, a promise of more evenings like this. Aurélien found himself not hating the idea.

"So," he said, his tone casual as he absently scratched Zeus behind the ears, "have you ever been to Poland?"

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Can't say I have. Why?"

"You should come through," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "I've got a match there next week."

Aurélien watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. Was this too much, too soon?

"That could be… interesting," she said slowly, testing the waters.

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Cool. It's a date then." As soon as the words left his mouth, Aurélien felt his eyes widen slightly. Shit. Did I really just say that? "I mean," he backtracked, feeling uncharacteristically flustered, "not a date-date, just… you know…"

"I know," Zuri said quickly, saving him from his fumbling. "Sounds good."

They lapsed into silence, the air between them charged with something Aurélien couldn't quite name. As Zuri stood to head to bed, he found himself watching her go, wondering what exactly he'd just set in motion.

A trip to Poland with his arranged fiancée to watch him play football. Life, he mused, had certainly taken an unexpected turn.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#aurelien tchouameni fanfic #fouled by fate #aurelien tchouameni x black oc #aurelien tchouameni fanfiction #footballer x reader #football fanfic #real madrid fanfic #emjayewrites

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logansargey · 3 months

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Do you have more headcanons about Jenson, Nico & Logan? I love reading your stuff

Jenson/Nico being Logan's parents head cannons Pt2

Since you asked so nicely, here's pt2 of my head cannons of my favorite family.

They have a family game night every Friday night.

Nico had to teach Logan how to drive because Jenson was too scared to.

Logan and Jenson hate the cold weather but Nico loves it.

Nico watches reality tv shows and Jenson always says they're boring but he always ends up on the couch, watching them with Nico.

Logan was obsessed with dinosaurs when he was younger and made his dads buy him any dinosaur related thing

Jenson had to help Logan with math and it ended just as any dad helping their kid with math goes

Jenson gets Nico a bouquet of flowers every Saturday

They have a lot of dogs (just because Logan keeps asking to have any stray dog he sees and Jenson and Nico can't say no.)

They have totes filled with Logan's drawings and artwork that he's made throughout his life

Nico makes Logan a cake for his birthday every year and they're beautiful.

Logan steals clothes from Jenson all the time

Jenson still buys Logan stuffed animals

Nico would dress Logan as a child and wouldn't let Jenson bc, in his words, "Jenson has no fashion taste"

Logan has the same music taste as Nico

When Logan lost his first tooth, Jenson had to sneak into his room to put the dollar under his pillow and tripped on one of Logan's toys causing him to break his foot. They never told him why.

One time, Fernando was holding Logan and Logan threw up on him. Jenson just laughed. Fernando never held him after.

Jenson was crying so hard at Logan's kindergarten graduation.

Nico sings Logan lullabies in German and Logan remembers them all

Jenson takes Nico shopping and buys almost everything for him

Jenson has woken Logan up multiple times in the middle of the night just to sneak food out of the kitchen

Jenson taught Logan how to swim and Nico was scared every time he went into the water

Nico has all the stars and their names memorized and points them out to Jenson and Logan every time they go star gazing

Logan has a sketch book filled with drawings of his parents and his friends

Nico bought Logan his first Polaroid camera

Nico and Jenson are that couple that somehow always match outifts

They have snowball fights and one time Jenson threw a snowball at Logan so hard it knocked out his tooth. Nico still brings it up to this day

Christmas is their favorite holiday

Jenson HATES white Christmases. He will be using colorful lights and decorations

Though Logan is the only born American, they do celebrate the fourth of July just because of the fireworks

Nico still buys Logan stuffed animals and Logan loves them

Anyways this is short but I made this in a rush bc I'm working on like 3 fanfics rn lmao

#formula one rpf #logan sargeant #nico rosberg #jenson button #princess cake #logan and his dads #jenson x nico #formula 1

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mariacallous · 5 months

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Barring an act of God, Joe Biden will face Donald Trump in the 2024 U.S. presidential election. Despite the multiple criminal indictments and civil lawsuits filed against Trump since he left office, there is no legal mechanism capable of disqualifying him from running for president. Yes, Trump’s trial in a case involving allegations that he illegally paid $130,000 in hush money to an adult film actress is set to begin on April 15. But even if he is convicted and sentenced to an actual prison term before the vote in November, the only thing standing between the former reality TV star and a second stint in the Oval Office is the common sense of the American electorate. It is a check that failed in 2016, one that nearly failed in 2020, and one that may well fail again in 2024. The result largely depends on how many anti-Trump Americans actually take the trouble to vote.

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happypotato48 · 6 months

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So i got asked by @waitmyturtles about how major channels are regarded in thailand. i can't talk for thai people who still regularly watch TV but anyway here is my thought.

My perspective is a bit limited because i don't watch TV anymore. but i can talk about how i views these Channels from when i was growing up which i think still true for them today (they seem to don't change much). so the major network Channels in thailand are 3, 5, 7, and 9. 3 being by far the most poppular.

I view 3 and 7 as the most basic conventional Channels in Thailand they rarely venture outside of their comfort zone of traditional lakorns. there is now and then shows from 3 and 7 that were pushing boundaries but they're rare. the most distinction between these channels are that 3 shows are usually more modern and 7 tend to be more conservative. the 20.30 - 22.00 pm timeslot for both of these channels where they air their lakorns used to be THE timeslot where most thai families spent their evening. ok side tangent, The Miracle Of Teddy Bear was the only BL that had aired in this timeslot that i knew of, that's why i was intrigued to check it out, well that and cause Inn Sarin was one of the leads. anyhoo i think it's less poppular now cause of streaming services and the internet. i feels like channel 3 fully hopped on the BL Train with its recent 22.45 timeslots on monday-wednesday being BLs. while channel 7 still seem to still be a bit gun shy about BL.

and for 5, it's run the by Royal Thai Army so the programs on this channel also on the conservative side. they used to made historical epic lakorns and that's basically all i remember about this channel. i think it's the least poppular out of the 4.

and lastly Channel 9 or what it's rebranded into Modernine TV. it the oldest but somehow the most modern, hehe pun inteded channel. this channel had the most variety of programs and it was my favorite channel as a kid cause it aired a lot of animes on the weekend. there's also were a lot of sitcoms and reality shows that were very poppular back in the days. one of them being the star, it was basically thai american idol. if i remember correctly this channel also was the first place i saw a gay pairing in a tv show, they were a side couple in some mature drama that i don't remember the name of, i'm pretty sure they either were one of or the first BL couple on Thai TV. this channel was the first one to fully embraced BL it aired Love sick, Make It Righ, My Engineer. their shows seem to mostly aimed at younger demographic. too bad they doesn't seem to produce a lot of shows now a days though, i guess we have GMMTV to blame for that.

there also Thai PBS, but well it's a PBS channel there's not a lot to say aside that it pretty much just like any other countries PBS channels.

#thai media #thai tv #thai bl #dumb boy rambles

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oceanblvdbabe · 14 days

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about me୨୧

did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean blvd?

୨୧naomi

୨୧using this app to avoid reality

୨୧girl, she/her

୨୧15y 21/7

୨୧I love: lana del rey, night, the ocean, dark red, light pink, writing, my playlists, pearls, manga, drawing, victoria's secret, vintage shops, CDs, poetry, reading, roses, vanilla ice cream, summer & fall, going out late at night, books, hole, guns, heart shaped things, pinterest, ice skating, coffee, the moon, twilight, kate moss, swans.

୨୧music: lana del rey, arctic monkeys, eminem, nirvana, hole, fiona apple, slipknot, green day, cigarettes after sex, tv girl, billie eillish, chase atlantic, the neighborhood, the weekend, the smiths, the beatles, frank ocean, mazzy star, mitski, david bowie.

୨୧movies & shows: zero day, ahs, american psycho, pll, black swan, thirteen, dc, corpse bride, the notebook, girl interrupted, the lighthouse, priscilla, the v!rgin su!cides, twilight, little woman, natural born killers, skins.

୨୧ice skater btw of u even gaf

୨୧not really tcc. fw tcc

୨୧feel free to send asks or dm me! (unless you're a creepy grown man or any other weirdo on this app)

more of my socials୨୧

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suchananewsblog · 2 years

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‘RHONY’ star Jenna Lyons: ‘Everyone was surprised’ when Lizzy quit

“Real Housewives of New York City” beginner Jenna Lyons was shocked when former co-star Lizzy Savetsky bowed out of the Bravo show. “I feel everybody was stunned,” the previous J. Crew government, 54, informed Page Six solely on the American Museum of Natural History Gala in New York City earlier this week. “I feel, you understand, it’s a sophisticated state of affairs, however I’m actually,…

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#american museum of natural history #bravo #jenna lyons #real housewives #real housewives of new york #reality stars #reality tv

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distressed-devilsitter · 8 months

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Visiting the Human World

I can't get past NB! Lesson 33, so I wrote these short blurbs instead. Enjoy!

Warnings: Lucifer is a wine snob. Also, Sephora.

Lucifer visits an insane amount of wineries. You then discover that the avatar of pride is a certified wine snob. He questions the sommelier's pairings. He sniffs the cork (discreetly). At least he can and will drink the employees under the table.

Mammon spends a lot of time in museums. It concerns everyone. Turns out, he was planning to steal one of the most famous pieces from the local gallery and sell it for cash - go big or go home, right? He successfully pulls off the heist, but Lucifer makes him return it the next day.

Levi spends a lot of time becoming familiar with human fandoms. He loves The Hunger Games and is 100% convinced that George R.R. Martin plagiarized TTSL to write GoT. He also becomes very fond of Gamestop.

Asmo is appalled by all the 10-year-olds in Sephora. He spends a lot of time trying to teach these kids that they shouldn't be applying Drunk Elephant to their face (they don't need the chemicals!!!). He's so knowledgable about the products that the staff is convinced he works there. He trades juicy stories with them in the break room. 100% knows all the tea, despite the fact that he doesn't actually work there.

Satan leans into his domestic side. He loves grocery shopping with you and trying new recipes. He visit every new gallery in town and drags you to see the latest films. Then, he takes you out for coffee to analyze the major themes and symbolism in each movie.

Beel goes to every human world buffet in your town (which is cannon). He also spends a lot of time at the gym, trying out the most extreme excersize routines this world has to offer. This, somehow, leads to him starring on several reality TV shows (much to Lucifer's dismay.) American Ninja Warrior. Wipeout. Spartan. No matter what show he's on, he quickly becomes an audience favorite.

Belphie...spends a lot of time sleeping. He's the avatar of sloth - what else did you expect? Still, he does occasionally drag himself out of the house to accompany his twin to the buffet. If there's a meteor shower or other astrological event, he'll set up a little picnic for the both of you. (Belphie also asks if he can put his head on your lap - you happily accept.) He stays awake through the entire thing, surprisingly.

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chaos0pikachu · 10 months

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Hi chaos,

So people on other socials are saying playboyy is camp? I don't quite get that vibe so I'm asking do you? Why?

*cracks neck* okay let's do this; this got wildly long so I'm putting a chunk of it behind a cut b/c unlike some blogs I'm not gonna subject anyone to endless and endless scrolling just b/c I added pictures anyway~~

So people are probably getting this from Den himself:

I talked about camp an itty bitty bit before, specifically I quoted Susan Sontag who was an American academic, novelist and writer mostly known for her essays. You can read more about her here. Specifically I quoted her essay Notes on Camp:

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I really recommend reading the entire essay, it's a bit dated, but Sontag also makes a point that camp changes with the times as well. This essay was written, after all, in 1964, before Hairspray (1988), Batman (1966), Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), or Mommie Dearest (1981) which are considered camp classics now. However there's a lot of good stuff to learn in her essay and she also names a lot of prominent either queer creators - Oscar Wilde, Jean Cocteau - or prominent figures that the queer community sorta like, claimed - Bette Davis, Greta Garbo.

Camp is a concept, it's not a hard and fast rule. Not every film or TV show that gets claimed as camp is intended to be camp - Showgirls and Mommie Dearest are sincere in their intentions, they are not trying to be camp at all, but through sheer accidental glory they stumbled right into the camp valley. Similarly with a film I recently learned about via this amazing essay, Valley of the Dolls which was also sincere in it's depiction of drugs, sex, and show business but just ended up...campy (this is part 2 which is my favorite part but part 1 is great too):

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I would also recommend this video by Kennie JD on Showgirls and you get a modern idea of how a non-film critic sees the camp in Showgirls even tho it's not intended as camp (Paul Verhoeven is never going for camp in his films he's often going for satire and yet, alas lol):

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Okay so this is getting away from me, the question was "Is Playboyy Camp?"

I would argue, yes but definition but it's more classic definition rather than what people probably associate with "camp" in the modern day. Which is "bad" films, or so-bad-they're-good films, or drag queens - would love to see Zouey in full drag actually - but Rocky Horror isn't a "bad" film, heck Showgirls isn't a "bad" film, neither is But I'm a Cheerleader or Jawbreakers, or many other camp classics. Some are "bad" in that they didn't achieve their intentions - again Mommie Dearest is a great, if unfortunate, example of this actually - but films that intentionally try to be camp tend to fail, like Cat and the Hat starring Jim Carrey. They're to fake, they try to hard.

As Sontag said, camp is both sincere and pure and it is also abstract and highlights aesthetic first and foremost.

Showgirls grabbed people in part b/c it's so so so very over the top; from the acting yes but also the costuming and set design. But I'm a Cheerleader had a way smaller budget, but it's very aesthetics focused:

I've seen people say that Playboyy looks "fake" or "artificial" but so does But I'm a Cheerleader. However artificial is the wrong word, imo, to use here; rather both are camp and surreal. They're going with surrealistic aesthetics to emphasize the emotions of the characters and also, cause gays like color. We love that shit. It stands out. It's fucking fun, it's campy!

I don't think Playboyy is strictly camp but it does take inspiration from camp - it pushes its priorities of the film making to be about the aesthetics rather than emphasizing reality. It's not uninterested in reality - the discussions of sex work in a amoral way (which sidenote I think is a good thing), of sexual desires, the complexities of relationships and boundaries, the acknowledgement of kink etc - but it's uninterested in presenting the world of the show solely through a "realistic" lens visually.

Fantasy is part of the narrative of Playboyy thus that is reflected in the visuals.

BIAC is part satire, which I wouldn't say Playboyy is, since it's not satirizing anything specific - unlike Lovely Writer attempted and didn't accomplish imo doing well from what I watched - it's clear to me that Den is playing a lot with genre. Now how well him and Cheewin the director are accomplishing this, well that's up to individual interpretation.

I can't force people to like Playboyy as much as me - even tho I'm right - b/c I'm not a weirdo and we all like different shit. I do think that Playboyy is using like, actual cinematography however. Like I see that word thrown around a lot and then people provide really like basic examples. Like I'm so sorry but 2Gether's cinematography is basic at best and boring at worst. Two dudes standing in a badly lit room in a mid-shot does not impressive cinematography make - which is fine because a lot of these shows are made on shoestring budgets.

I don't expect Moonlight level cinematography from gmmtv or MeMindY shows. And Playboyy doesn't have that level either it can't it's clearly also made on a small budget.

That said it IS filmed with purpose, and with a specific visual language. Not every shot is great but I do love the sincerity here, it's using color, lighting, and set design with actual thought to enhance the overall aesthetics of the show, enhance the fantasy at play, the camp.

Camp films aren't inherently "bad" films. They make you laugh, scream, and the best ones, actually do say something or spark discussion. Rocky Horror is meaningful to people, But I'm a Cheerleader means something to people, they're both unashamedly queer films that were both kinda bombs - critically and financially - and then slowly gained a cult following b/c they were way ahead of their times.

I get the feeling if camp applies to Playboyy at all it's in that sense, a series that's being pretty harshly maligned and disregarded critically at the moment, but that actually has a ton to say and may end up gaining a following down the line after it's over.

This was like, wildly long and I apologize lol

#playboyy the series #chaos pikachu speaks #chaos pikachu metas #anon asks #pikachu's bl film series

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