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imthebadguyyy · 3 months

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i can fix him, no really i can.

Pairing : charles leclerc x reader

Fandom : formula 1

Series : the tortured poets department

Synopsis : they tell say God help her when I tell em he's my man...

warnings : angst.

the jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud...

The Monaco Grand Prix had been spectacular. Charles Leclerc, the golden boy of Formula 1, had won in his home country, and the celebrations were grand. The streets of Monte Carlo were alive with excitement, and the night was still young when you found yourself at a cozy bar with Charles and your friends, including Alex and Lily.

Charles was in high spirits, the euphoria of his victory coursing through him. You couldn't help but feel proud of him, but a knot of anxiety had formed in your stomach. You brushed it off, attributing it to the intensity of the day. The bar was crowded, the laughter loud, and the drinks flowing.

You sat beside Charles, trying to engage in the celebratory mood, but the jokes he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. You could see the discomfort in Lily’s eyes, and Alex’s attempt to diffuse the tension with his own humor only partially succeeded.

“And then there was my ex, remember her?” Charles roared with laughter, slapping the table. “She was always so organized, never made a fuss about anything. I swear, sometimes I think she had everything more together than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

The laughter that followed was forced, a thin veneer over the awkwardness. Your heart sank. Charles had a few too many drinks, and his filter was gone. The way he talked about his exes, and sometimes even you, made you feel small and insignificant. Tonight, it stung more than usual.

Lily gave you a sympathetic look, and you tried to muster a smile. Alex changed the subject to racing, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. But Charles was on a roll.

“And you, love, you’ve got your quirks too,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. His voice was louder than necessary, drawing the attention of those around you. “Remember that time you tried to cook us dinner and nearly burned the kitchen down? Classic.”

The laughter was scattered, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You wanted to disappear, but you stayed, for Charles. The night dragged on, each joke more painful than the last, until finally, it was time to leave.

Back at the hotel, the atmosphere was heavy with the unspoken words that lingered in the air. Charles, still basking in his victory, seemed oblivious to your discomfort. He collapsed onto the bed, eyes half-closed, a contented smile on his face.

You changed into your pajamas quietly, the tension building within you. Charles didn’t notice. He didn’t kiss you goodnight or tell you he loved you. He just lay there, lost in his own world.

As you slipped into bed beside him, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The silence was deafening. You turned away, facing the wall, the weight of your doubts pressing down on you. Was this what love felt like? Was this the future you had envisioned with him?

Sleep was elusive, your mind racing with questions and insecurities. You felt a chasm growing between you, one that his victory and the night’s revelry couldn’t bridge. Charles had won a race, but you felt like you had lost something precious.

In the quiet darkness of the hotel room, you lay awake, wondering if Charles would ever see the pain behind your forced smiles, the hurt beneath your laughter. The night that had started with joy ended in silent despair, leaving you unsure about the road ahead.

they shake their heads, saying god help her, when i, tell em he's my man...

The living room buzzed with nostalgia and laughter as you mingled with Charles' childhood friends. Marta, Riccardo, and a few others caught up animatedly near the fireplace, while Lily and your closest girlfriends gathered near the kitchen, sharing stories and memories.

Charles slipped his arm around your waist, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Hey everyone," you announced, your voice trembling slightly. "There's something we want to share."

The room quieted, and curious eyes turned towards you. You felt Charles' supportive presence beside you, which gave you a measure of reassurance.

"We're dating," Charles declared with a bright smile, his eyes searching for signs of approval or happiness.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, Marta and Riccardo exchanged concerned glances. Lily's expression softened with worry, but she quickly composed herself.

Without saying a word, Lily motioned for the other girls to follow her. You gathered in a nearby room, and they enveloped you in a supportive hug.

"We just want you to be careful," Lily whispered, her voice filled with concern. "You know how Charles can be sometimes."

The other girls nodded in agreement, their expressions a mixture of sympathy and caution. "We're here for you no matter what," one of them added, squeezing your hand gently.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt their unconditional support. These were the friends who had always been by your side, through thick and thin. Their concern was palpable, a reflection of your deep bond and shared history.

"I appreciate your concern," you managed to say, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I really care about Charles. I hope you can see that."

They nodded understandingly, their embrace tightening around you. "Just promise us you'll look out for yourself," Lily said softly.

You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Despite the doubts lingering in the back of your mind, you knew you had their support. With them standing beside you, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out alright.

Back in the living room, Charles was chatting animatedly with his friends, oblivious to the heartfelt conversation happening just a few rooms away. You took a deep breath, wiping away your tears. Whatever happened next, you knew you weren't alone.

his hand so calloused from his pistol, softly traces hearts on my face...

The day had been a disaster. Charles had been so sure of his win, so confident in his abilities. But the race had ended in bitter disappointment. You could see the frustration radiating off him as he stormed out of the pit, his face a mask of barely contained rage.

You followed him quietly, giving him space as he retreated to the trailer. He slammed the door behind him, and you hesitated before opening it slowly and stepping inside. The tension in the small space was palpable.

"Charles," you said softly, hoping to calm him down. "It's just one race. There will be more."

He whirled around, his eyes blazing. "You don’t get it!" he shouted, the force of his anger making you flinch. "I needed this win. Everything was riding on this."

You took a step back, feeling a mix of fear and sorrow. "I'm sorry," you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated, and then turned away from you. "Just...leave me alone," he muttered, his voice still edged with anger.

Your heart ached at the distance between you. You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but his fury made you hesitant. You stood there, torn between giving him the space he demanded and wanting to bridge the gap his disappointment had created.

Minutes passed in tense silence. Eventually, his shoulders sagged, and he turned back to you, the anger in his eyes replaced by regret. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, though it still carried the weight of his frustration.

You nodded, but the hurt lingered. "I know," you replied quietly, not sure if you believed it yet.

He stepped closer, his calloused hands reaching for you. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his words earlier. He softly traced hearts on your face, the roughness of his fingers a reminder of the man he was — strong, yet capable of such tenderness.

You closed your eyes, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions swirling within you. His anger had scared you, but his apology and the softness of his touch made you question your feelings. Could you forgive him so easily? Did his regret outweigh the sting of his outburst?

He continued to caress your face, his fingers moving in soothing patterns. "I hate that I took it out on you," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. There was genuine remorse there, but also a desperation for your forgiveness. You wanted to trust him, to believe that this was just a moment of weakness, not a glimpse into a darker side of him.

"I don't know what to feel," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You scared me, Charles."

His face crumpled with guilt, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "I know," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. Please, just give me a chance to make it right."

You stayed in his arms, your heart heavy with uncertainty. His touch was soothing, but the memory of his anger lingered. You wanted to forgive him, to move past this moment, but a part of you wondered if this was a sign of things to come.

As he traced another heart on your cheek, you closed your eyes again, trying to find clarity in the midst of the chaos. You loved him, but love alone couldn't erase the hurt. Only time would tell if his actions matched his words, if his tenderness could outweigh his anger.

For now, you held onto the hope that he could change, that the man who traced hearts on your face was the real Charles, not the one who lashed out in anger. And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you silently prayed that your hope wasn't misplaced.

i can fix him, no really i can..

The evening had started off so well. Charles had invited you to a family dinner at his mother's house. Pascale, Arthur, Lorenzo, their girlfriends, and a few of the drivers were all there. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and warmth. You felt a sense of belonging, surrounded by the people Charles loved most.

But as the night wore on, a seemingly innocuous comment about a minor mistake Charles made during a recent race triggered something in him. What began as light-hearted teasing quickly escalated into a heated argument. Charles' temper flared, his frustration from the season bubbling to the surface.

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under!" Charles shouted, his face flushed with anger. "It's not just a game to me!"

You tried to calm him down, to remind him that everyone was just joking, but he was too far gone. "Charles, it's just a silly mistake. Everyone makes them," you said gently, hoping to diffuse the situation.

But your words only seemed to fuel his rage. "You always take their side!" he snapped. "You never support me!"

The room fell silent. Pascale and the others exchanged uneasy glances, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the evening had taken. Arthur stepped forward, trying to intervene. "Come on, Charles, she’s just trying to help."

Charles whirled around to face his brother, his eyes blazing. "Stay out of it, Arthur. This is between me and her."

You felt a pang of hurt at his words, but also a rising determination to stand your ground. "I'm on your side, Charles. I always am," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He shook his head, his expression a mix of anger and frustration. "No, you're not. You never are."

With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The silence that followed was deafening. Pascale sighed deeply, her face etched with worry. "Let him go, dear. He needs time to cool down."

Arthur put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "He’s being unreasonable. It's not your fault."

But you shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "I can fix him. No, really, I can," you insisted, your voice breaking. "He’s just under so much pressure. He doesn't mean it."

Lorenzo's girlfriend, Charlotte, gave you a sympathetic look. "We know he doesn't mean it, but you can't keep taking the brunt of his frustration. It's not fair to you."

You looked around the room, seeing the concern in everyone's eyes. They cared for you, and they cared for Charles, but they didn't understand. They didn't see the Charles you saw — the one who was vulnerable and scared, hiding behind his anger.

"I love him," you said quietly, more to yourself than anyone else. "And I know he loves me. I just have to be patient."

Pascale walked over and took your hands in hers, her eyes filled with motherly compassion. "Love is important, but it shouldn't hurt this much. Sometimes, it's okay to step back and let him come to terms with his own issues."

You nodded, but your heart was heavy with resolve. You knew they were right, but you couldn't give up on him. You had seen glimpses of the man he could be, the man he was when he wasn't weighed down by his own demons.

"I have to try," you whispered, more determined than ever. "I have to."

You slipped away from the group and found Charles outside, pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. He looked up as you approached, his expression softening slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice raw with regret. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "I know you're under a lot of pressure, Charles. But you can't keep taking it out on me. We need to find a way to handle this together."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I know. I’m sorry," he repeated, his voice breaking. "I just...I feel like I'm drowning sometimes."

You held him close, your heart aching for him. "We'll figure it out," you promised. "But you have to let me in. You have to trust that I'm on your side."

He nodded against your shoulder, his grip tightening. "I do. I will."

As you stood there in the darkness, holding each other, you knew the road ahead would be difficult. But you were determined to help him, to fix what was broken. Because despite everything, you loved him. And you believed that love was worth fighting for, even when it hurt

trust me, i can handle a dangerous man..

The car ride home was supposed to be peaceful. The two of you had spent a pleasant evening with friends, but as you drove back, a comment about his racing performance earlier in the week had sparked an argument. The tension between you and Charles had been simmering for days, and now it was boiling over.

"You're always criticizing me," Charles snapped, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "You think it's easy out there? You have no idea what it's like!"

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I'm not criticizing you, Charles. I'm just saying you need to be more careful. It's not just about you—there are other drivers, the team, and me."

His jaw clenched, and he pressed harder on the gas pedal. The car surged forward, the speedometer climbing rapidly. "You don't get to tell me how to drive," he growled.

Your heart started pounding, but you kept your voice steady. "Charles, slow down. This isn't the track."

He ignored you, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white against the wheel. The car continued to pick up speed, the scenery outside blurring into a streak of lights and shadows. Fear tightened your chest, but you refused to let it show.

"Charles, this is dangerous," you said firmly. "You're not thinking straight."

He shot you a fierce glare. "Stop trying to control me!"

You met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to keep us safe. You're being reckless."

He let out a bitter laugh, his anger palpable. "You think you can handle everything, don't you? That you know better than me?"

Your patience snapped. "I can handle a dangerous man," you shot back, your voice rising. "But I'm not going to sit here and let you put our lives at risk because you're too stubborn to listen!"

Charles flinched as if you'd struck him. For a moment, the car seemed to hover on the edge of something catastrophic. Then, slowly, he eased off the gas, the car's speed gradually decreasing until you were traveling at a more reasonable pace. The silence that followed was thick with unresolved tension and unspoken words.

You both stared ahead, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint whir of the tires against the asphalt. The anger and fear churned inside you, but you kept your composure, refusing to give in to the chaos.

Finally, you reached home. Charles parked the car and turned off the engine, but neither of you moved to get out. The weight of the argument hung heavy in the air.

"I don't want to fight," he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence.

You turned to look at him, your expression softening just a fraction. "Neither do I. But you need to understand that your actions have consequences. It's not just about you anymore."

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and exhaustion. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away. "We need to communicate better, Charles. We can't keep having these explosive arguments."

He reached for your hand, his touch tentative. "I'll try," he promised. "I don't want to lose you."

You squeezed his hand, offering a small, tentative smile. "I don't want to lose you either. But we have to work on this together."

With that, you both stepped out of the car and walked into the house in silence, the echoes of your argument lingering in the night air. The road ahead would be challenging, but you were determined to face it together, one step at a time.

Come close I'll show you heaven, if you'll be an angel all night..

The argument had been intense, but now the storm had seemingly passed. You and Charles found yourselves in the dimly lit living room, the atmosphere heavy with unresolved tension. He reached for you, his touch tentative at first, but quickly growing more insistent as he pulled you closer.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with regret. "I don't want to fight anymore."

You responded to his kiss, your anger melting away into a fervent need to reconnect. Your hands roamed over each other, the intensity of the make-out session escalating quickly. Lips met with a desperate passion, tongues intertwined, and the world outside ceased to exist.

"Come close," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. "I'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night."

He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, really?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

His lips trailed to your neck, kissing the delicate skin there, taking it between his teeth and sucking it to leave a mark, making you gasp and moan at the sting, letting your head roll back.

You nodded, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Yes, but you have to promise not to bring up the argument again. Let's just enjoy the night."

He chuckled, the sound dark and sardonic. "And if I don't behave? What happens then?"

You pulled back slightly, studying his face. "Then the deal's off. No more fighting, Charles. I mean it."

His expression hardened, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a familiar edge of defiance. "You think you can control everything, don't you?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Always trying to manage me, like I'm some child."

Your heart sank, the heat of the moment dissipating in an instant. "That's not what I meant," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I just want us to have a good night together."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Sure, whatever you say. As long as I'm your perfect little angel, right?"

The insult stung, cutting through the fragile peace you'd managed to build. Without another word, you pushed away from him, the anger and hurt flooding back. "You know what, Charles? Forget it. I thought we could move past this, but clearly, you're not interested."

You turned on your heel, heading for the door. Behind you, Charles called out, his voice tinged with frustration and regret. "Wait, don't go. I didn't mean it like that."

But you didn't stop. You couldnt. The promise of a passionate night had been shattered by his careless words, and you needed space to cool down and collect your thoughts.

As you walked away, you heard him sigh deeply, the sound filled with the weight of unspoken apologies and missed opportunities. The night that could have been spent in each other's arms was now tainted by lingering resentment and unresolved tension.

In the quiet of your room, you let the tears fall, mourning not just the lost night, but the growing distance between you. It would take more than apologies and promises to mend the rift, but for now, you needed to be alone.

The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: you couldn't keep going on like this. Something had to change, and it had to start with him.

but your, good lord didn't need to lift a finger, i can fix him, no really i can....

The vacation had been a welcome escape from the relentless pressure of the racing season. You and Charles had joined a few of the drivers, including Lewis and Pierre, at a luxurious beachfront villa. The days were spent basking in the sun, enjoying the ocean, and indulging in rare moments of relaxation.

But even here, away from the track, the shadow of Charles' recent bad streak loomed large. It was a warm evening, the group gathered around a bonfire, laughter and conversation filling the air. Charles, however, seemed distant, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames.

"I feel like I need to pray," Charles said suddenly, breaking the jovial mood. "I need something to break this bad streak."

You squeezed his hand, trying to offer some comfort. "You know, you've always said I'm your good luck charm," you joked lightly. "You’ve got pole, fastest lap, and wins when I’m around. Maybe I’m the one you should be praying to."

There was a moment of silence. You expected a laugh, or at least a smile, but instead, Charles' expression darkened. He pulled his hand away, his eyes narrowing. "You think you're like God? That’s incredibly arrogant."

The words hit you like a slap. The laughter around the fire died instantly, replaced by stunned silence. You blinked, trying to process the sudden shift. "Charles, I was just joking," you said quietly, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you.

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the wooden deck. "You don't get it," he snapped. "You think everything revolves around you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you fought them back. "I was just trying to lighten the mood," you said, your voice trembling. "I’m always here for you, trying to support you."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Maybe I don’t need your kind of support."

The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. Lewis and Pierre exchanged concerned glances, clearly uncomfortable with the unfolding drama.

"Charles, that’s enough," Lewis said gently, stepping in to diffuse the situation. "We’re all friends here."

But Charles ignored him, turning on his heel and walking away, disappearing into the darkness. You stood there, feeling the sting of his words, the hurt cutting deep.

Pierre got up and walked over to you, his expression filled with empathy. "Hey," he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, but the tears finally spilled over. "I can fix him," you insisted, your voice breaking. "No, really, I can."

Pierre sighed, his eyes sad. "You can't fix someone who doesn’t want to be fixed."

Lewis stepped closer, his gaze steady and compassionate. "You're better off without him if he keeps treating you like this. You deserve someone who appreciates you, not someone who lashes out."

You shook your head, the conviction in your voice wavering. "He’s just under so much pressure. He doesn’t mean it."

Lewis and Pierre exchanged another look. "Pressure or not, there’s no excuse for treating you this way," Lewis said firmly. "You need to think about yourself, too."

You wiped your tears, the reality of their words sinking in. But despite everything, you still loved Charles, still believed in the man you knew he could be. "I just need to talk to him," you said, more to yourself than to them.

Pierre gave you a small, sad smile. "Just be careful, okay? We’re here for you."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. The night that had started with so much promise was now marred by tension and hurt. As you walked away from the fire, your heart heavy, you knew you needed to find Charles, to try and reach him one more time.

You found him by the shoreline, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand echoing your turbulent emotions. He stood with his back to you, his posture rigid.

"Charles," you called softly, stepping closer.

He turned, his face illuminated by the moonlight, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability beneath his anger. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice raw. "I didn’t mean to snap at you."

You reached out, taking his hand. "I know," you whispered. "But we can’t keep going on like this. We need to find a way to deal with this pressure without hurting each other."

He nodded, pulling you into an embrace. "I don’t want to lose you," he murmured into your hair.

You held him tightly, hoping that this time, things would be different. But a part of you couldn’t shake the fear that this cycle would continue, that the man you loved would keep lashing out in his moments of weakness.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the waves crashing at your feet, you silently prayed for strength—for both of you. Because love was worth fighting for, but you couldn’t do it alone. Charles needed to fight too, for himself and for you.

WOAH- maybe, i can't...

The villa was supposed to be a retreat, a place where you and Charles could escape the relentless pressure of the racing season and find some peace. But the calm had been shattered by yet another argument. The drivers who had joined you—Lewis, Pierre, and a few others—had made themselves scarce, sensing the brewing storm.

You were in the kitchen, the words flying between you and Charles like daggers. "You’re always on my back, always criticizing me," he shouted, his face red with anger. "Do you think I don’t feel the pressure already?"

"I’m not criticizing you, Charles," you replied, your voice shaking with frustration. "I’m trying to help you, to support you. But you keep pushing me away."

He scoffed, turning away from you. "Support me? By constantly nagging? That’s not support, that’s control."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "I’m not trying to control you. I just want you to be your best, and that means sometimes you need to listen."

He whirled back around, his eyes blazing. "Listen to you? You think you know better than me? That you can fix all my problems?"

The words hit you hard. You had spent so much time believing that you could help him, that your love and support could make a difference. But now, standing there, the reality crashed down on you. He didn’t want to be fixed, didn’t want to change. He wanted to wallow in his frustration and drag you down with him.

"I thought I could fix you," you said, your voice breaking. "No, really, I did. I thought if I loved you enough, supported you enough, you’d see that you don’t have to go through this alone."

He rolled his eyes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "That’s your problem. You think you’re some sort of savior."

The anger flared inside you, hot and fierce. "And you think you can treat me like this and I’ll just keep coming back? You’re the one with the problem, Charles. You’re so caught up in your own misery that you can’t see what’s right in front of you."

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, your voice rising. "You know what? I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending that I can fix you when you’re not willing to fix yourself. I’m done."

Charles looked taken aback, his bravado faltering. "What are you saying?"

"I’m saying that I’m leaving," you said, the words steady and resolute. "I deserve better than this. Better than you."

You saw the shock in his eyes, the realization that you were serious. "You’re not serious," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

"I am," you replied, turning to grab your bag. "I’m done being your punching bag. I’m done trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved."

You walked past him, heading for the door. As you reached for the handle, you felt a sense of clarity, of strength. "I can fix him, no, really, I can," you muttered to yourself, then shook your head. "Woah, maybe I can’t."

You opened the door and stepped outside, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. As you walked down the path, away from the villa and from Charles, you heard the door slam behind you. He didn’t follow, didn’t call out to you.

The drivers who had been waiting outside looked up, concern in their eyes. Pierre stepped forward, his expression gentle. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I will be."

Lewis came over, his hand resting on your shoulder. "You did the right thing. You deserve someone who values you."

You felt the tears well up, but they were tears of relief, of release. "Thank you," you said, your voice steady. "I needed to hear that."

As you walked away with your friends, leaving Charles and his toxicity behind, you felt a newfound sense of freedom. You had tried to fix him, but in the end, you had fixed yourself by walking away. And that was the greatest victory of all.

a/n : it appears I've given allll the angsty ttpd songs to charles 🥲 this one was painful to write. as always, comments likes reblogs feedback etc is always appreciated 🤍

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bossbotmgr · 2 months

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ArtFight 2024 Vol. 3

[Marta A. Lack for @razlapin, Neon Filia-Mont for @madocactus, Amber E. Lurt for Pebblers, Storm Chaser for KurimiTea, and Forecaster for @doodlebun.]

[OFF-SEASON GIFTS: These are gifts I wanted to do! Please don't revenge/return! Asset Freezer for @pavtriobnal.]

#my posts #my art #toontown #toonblr #toontown corporate clash #toontown rewritten #artfight #artfight 2024 #2024 #ocs #toons #cogs

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fritzes · 4 months

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rg draw, here we go:

wta:

thing are looking pretty good for iga. ostapenko is not in her quarter which is always a relief, and her projected qf opponent is marketa, who obviously has a great history at rg but has been really inconsistent lately. if she’s on top of her game she could be a threat, but that’s a big if. I think the more likely quarterfinalist is danielle, and I don’t think she can challenge iga on clay. marta kostyuk is also lurking in this quarter and could do some damage if she’s playing well, but again, is that good enough to beat iga at rg? probably not. iga could play naomi second round, and while that wouldn’t really be competitive, it could be nice to see!

across the draw, coco also has a pretty decent path to the semis but unlike iga, she isn’t rock-solid at rg and if she double faults the way she’s been doing the last few months, that’s gonna be a huge problem. she could play haddad maia in the round of 16, a semifinalist from last year. but haddad maia is super streaky and upset-prone, so it’s debatable whether she’ll get there. in the bottom half of this quarter is ons, who’s been having a really terrible season. I would love to see her make a deep run, but I could see her losing to ostapenko or garcia in the round of 16 if not earlier. in the quarterfinals, either of the two mentioned above could make things difficult for coco, especially if ostapenko is at the rg level we all know she’s capable of

if the projected semifinal does happen, it’s probably gonna be a repeat of the 2022 final if not worse. coco just doesn’t have a chance against iga on clay, and especially not at rg

I think the third quarter is gonna be pretty crazy. elena’s health has been in question lately and her recent slam results haven’t been great. of course, at any given moment she could play like the best in the world, so who knows. I could see elina or nastia being quarterfinalists here. elena is capable of beating both of them, but on clay I think they’re both capable of beating her. at the other end of this quarter is qinwen, who’s results since the ao haven’t been great. I don’t think she’s very comfortable on clay, and I would predict jasmine or kalinskaya as quarterfinalists over her. also, bianca andreescu is apparently back and in this quarter, so it will be interesting to see how she does

I would be really surprised if aryna doesn’t make the semifinals. her potential early seeded are boulter, navarro, and keys, none of whom are clay players. there’s also the potential of playing paula again, but paula would have to get there and if she does, aryna is the heavy favorite. I really don’t know who the other quarterfinalist will be. I’d love to have confidence in maria, but noskova and especially dasha could be threats. still, there’s no one aryna can’t beat in this quarter

if the projected semifinal for this half happens, I would majorly favor aryna. she just beat elena in madrid, and she’s way more comfortable on slow clay

interesting r1 matches: bronzetti/osaka, yastremska/tomljanovic, ostapenko/cristian, andreescu/sorribes tormo, azarenka/podoroska, boulter/badosa

atp:

people like to say that novak saves his best tennis for slams, that his recent slump will come to an end here. I’m not so sure about that. in his path to the quarterfinals he’s got potential musetti and cerundolo, both good rg players. even tommy paul could trouble him. and, if he has his usual thing of playing his way into form with tough early matches, he’s going to be exhausted if he does make qfs and plays rg specialist casper ruud. mensik is an early hurdle, but I really don’t think casper has a difficult draw at all. taylor in the round of 16 should be easy on clay, and his confidence against novak is at an all time high after monte carlo. if there was ever a time to get revenge for last year’s final, it’s now

the second quarter… I can’t believe this is real. rafa vs zverev in the first round. unfortunately zverev is the favorite to win, but it is rafa at rg. you never know. even with that aside, this quarter is crazy. holger is always a wild card at rg, and he is definitely capable of taking out zverev to make the qfs. and on the other end is the hard court specialist himself, daniil medvedev. this is honestly the best draw he could ask for, with bublik and de minaur as predicted seeds. I don’t think he could beat holger at rg, but I do think he could do what he’s been doing for so very long and beat zverev

I have very little faith in the projected semifinal actually happening. maybe one will get there, but I doubt both will

to the much more pleasant half of the draw, carlos has a decent path to the qfs. his projected early opponents, draper and korda, are both ridiculously inconsistent and not great on clay. ben or felix in the round of 16 shouldn’t be an issue either. on the other hand, the other potential quarterfinalists have a terrible draw with a ton of french people and of course each other: andrey and stefanos. will andrey’s few tools beat him again? I’m not sure. stefanos is great at rg and I think he can beat andrey, but his record against carlos is abysmal. stefanos has a better chance in the round of 16, but andrey has a better chance in the qf

jannik couldn’t have asked for a better draw, and if he’s healthy I think he can really go far here. baez isn’t a challenger to him and jarry is super inconsistent which jannik can take advantage of. the projected quarterfinalist is hubi, but I think it’s more likely to be grigor considering how much hubi relies on his serve. also, after the week he had in rome, maybe tabilo could make a deep run as well, who knows

words cannot express how much I want this projected semifinal to happen. and if it does, I think I would have to pick carlos to win because he’s jus that much more comfortable on clay. then again, jannik did beat carlos in the umag final, so you never know

interesting r1 matches: fritz/coria, etcheverry/cazaux, ruud/mensik, zverev/nadal, navone/carreño busta, arnaldi/fils, wawrinka/murray (I can’t believe this is real)

#tennis #wta #atp #roland garros #french open #pre-match writeups #this is not proofread

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sccpmccabe · 2 months

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Ainda sem entender pq essas gringas aqui estão bravas chega até ser engraçado. Tem uma querida que comenta sobre o barça e a seleção espanhola que não reconhece o quanto elas foram péssimas 😂

O time delas jogo o pior futebol, as jogadoras da espanha falam um monte de merda depois da partida e a gente tem que aguentar calado? Ah me poupe, esses europeus sempre se achando superior às seleções sul-americanas...

Bom, há quem diga que a negação é um dos primeiros estágios do luto.

Mais cedo eu vi uma coisa no Twitter que pra mim fez muito sentido, vou tentar resumir aqui.

Enquanto nós estávamos em uma má fase (literalmente semanas atrás) correndo risco de ficar fora dos Jogos Olímpicos, ou até mesmo no começo do ano quando disputamos a Gold Cup e a She Belives lá nos EUA e apesar de apresentar um bom futebol ainda saímos perdendo, todo mundo gostava da gente. Era sempre o mesmo papo de: "Ah, o Brasil merece mais!", "A Marta merece encerrar a carreira internacional com um título", "É triste ver a atual fase da Seleção Brasileira", etc, etc.

Mas agora que aparentemente encontramos o nosso futebol e apesar de eu discordar com algumas coisas (tal como a cera excessiva da Lorena pro Arthur arrumar a bagunça no campo) e principalmente depois de derrotar essas duas grandes potências do futebol feminino, o papo é outro, que nós jogamos sujo, que não jogamos futebol, como a Hermoso falou, que somos arrogantes, desrespeitosas, antidesportivas, e por aí vai.

Esse tipo de gente não entende a verdadeira essência do futebol, o quanto ele impacta de verdade não só a vida das jogadoras que vestem as nossas cores, mas a vida de quem torce, de quem tá conhecendo agora, das meninas e meninos que sonham em jogar futebol profissionalmente. Como os momentos de gritaria e provocação em campo são um desabafo, uma resposta a quem duvidou, desdenhou e até mesmo provocou elas anteriormente.

E se você parar para pensar, não é muito diferente do que rolou com a Argentina na Copa de 2022.

(Sim, a situação tá tão feia que eu vou ter que sair em defesa dos hermanos)

Apesar de tudo, eles se mostraram obviamente superiores às demais equipes naquela Copa, fizeram a maior final de uma Copa do Mundo (pelo menos a melhor que meus olhos viram nos meus quase 20 anos de vida), ganharam merecidamente nos pênaltis e lembraram o mundo de uma coisa: Se não fosse a América do Sul, o futebol não seria aquilo que ele é hoje. Se não fosse pelos nossos jogadores saírem daqui para jogar em times europeus, o futebol jogado por eles não teria relevância ou prestígio algum porque tudo começou aqui, as rivalidades começaram aqui. Eles podem até ter inventado o futebol, mas quem sempre soube jogar ele de verdade fomos nós. O primeiro campeão da Copa do Mundo foi o Uruguai, o maior campeão é o Brasil e o último campeão é a Argentina e nos ver em campo incomoda tanto eles porquê os lembra da verdade, no final das contas, é tudo nosso.

Criticaram o Dibu Martínez pelas provocações e os atos soberbos dele na Copa, hoje criticaram as meninas do Brasil por vencerem e mostrarem força de vontade em campo.

Não sou a pessoa mais religiosa do mundo, mas concordo com algo que a Lorena falou na entrevista pós-jogo para a CazéTV, nem tudo acontece quando e como a gente quer, nada é no nosso tempo, mas sim no tempo de Deus. O amanhã só a ele pertence.

Apesar de tudo é muito importante que a gente mantenha os dois pés no chão para essa final e o mais importante de tudo, não dê bola para as opiniões alheias, por mais absurdas e incômodas que elas possam ser. No final das contas vai ser só mais uma entre tantas que já vieram e das inúmeras que ainda estão por vir.

#time brasil #seleção brasileira #olimpíadas #woso #valerie answers!

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princesssarisa · 11 months

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The Top 40 Most Popular Operas, Part 3 (#21 through #30)

A quick guide for newcomers to the genre, with links to online video recordings of complete performances, with English subtitles whenever possible.

Verdi's Il Trovatore

The second of Verdi's three great "middle period" tragedies (the other two being Rigoletto and La Traviata): a grand melodrama filled with famous melodies.

Studio film, 1957 (Mario del Monaco, Leyla Gencer, Ettore Bastianini, Fedora Barbieri; conducted by Fernando Previtali) (no subtitles; read the libretto in English translation here)

Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor

The most famous tragic opera in the bel canto style, based on Sir Walter Scott's novel The Bride of Lammermoor, and featuring opera's most famous "mad scene."

Studio film, 1971 (Anna Moffo, Lajos Kozma, Giulio Fioravanti, Paolo Washington; conducted by Carlo Felice Cillario)

Leoncavallo's Pagliacci

The most famous example of verismo opera: brutal Italian realism from the turn of the 20th century. Jealousy, adultery, and violence among a troupe of traveling clowns.

Feature film, 1983 (Plácido Domingo, Teresa Stratas, Juan Pons, Alberto Rinaldi; conducted by Georges Prêtre)

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI

Mozart's Die Entführung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio)

Mozart's comic Singspiel (German opera with spoken dialogue) set amid a Turkish harem. What it lacks in political correctness it makes up for in outstanding music.

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 1988 (Deon van der Walt, Inga Nielsen, Lillian Watson, Lars Magnusson, Kurt Moll, Oliver Tobias; conducted by Georg Solti) (click CC for subtitles)

Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera

A Verdi tragedy of forbidden love and political intrigue, inspired by the assassination of King Gustav III of Sweden.

Leipzig Opera House, 2006 (Massimiliano Pisapia, Chiara Taigi, Franco Vassallo, Annamaria Chiuri, Eun Yee You; conducted by Riccardo Chailly) (click CC for subtitles)

Part I, Part II

Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffmann (The Tales of Hoffmann)

A half-comic, half-tragic fantasy opera based on the writings of E.T.A. Hoffmann, in which the author becomes the protagonist of his own stories of ill-fated love.

Opéra de Monte-Carlo, 2018 (Juan Diego Flórez, Olga Peretyatko, Nicolas Courjal, Sophie Marilley; conducted by Jacques Lacombe) (click CC and choose English in "Auto-translate" under "Settings" for subtitles)

Wagner's Der Fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman)

An early and particularly accessible work of Wagner, based on the legend of a phantom ship doomed to sail the seas until its captain finds a faithful bride.

Savolinna Opera, 1989 (Franz Grundheber, Hildegard Behrens, Ramiro Sirkiä, Matti Salminen; conducted by Leif Segerstam) (click CC for subtitles)

Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana

A one-act drama of adultery and scorned love among Sicilian peasants, second only to Pagliacci (with which it's often paired in a double bill) as the most famous verismo opera.

St. Petersburg Opera, 2012 (Fyodor Ataskevich, Iréne Theorin, Nikolay Kopylov, Ekaterina Egorova, Nina Romanova; conducted by Mikhail Tatarnikov)

Verdi's Falstaff

Verdi's final opera, a "mighty burst of laughter" based on Shakespeare's comedy The Merry Wives of Windsor.

Studio film, 1979 (Gabriel Bacquier, Karan Armstrong, Richard Stilwell, Marta Szirmay, Jutta Renate Ihloff, Max René Cosotti; conducted by Georg Solti) (click CC for subtitles)

Verdi's Otello (Othello)

Verdi's second-to-last great Shakespearean opera, based on the tragedy of the Moor of Venice.

Teatro alla Scala, 2001 (Plácido Domingo, Leo Nucci, Barbara Frittoli; conducted by Riccardo Muti)

#opera #top 40 #21 through 30 #video #complete performances #english subtitles #il trovatore #lucia di lammermoor #pagliacci #die entfuhrung aus dem serail #the abduction from the seraglio #un ballo in maschera #les contes d'hoffmann #the tales of hoffmann #der fliegende holländer #the flying dutchman #cavalleria rusticana #falstaff #otello

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enable--llamas · 1 year

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hi, could i bother you with a general wcif? i'm looking for some potted floor plants to decorate my interiors with and i was wondering who your go-to creators are, since you always have the nicest looking plants in your spaces 😍

Heyyy, so this is super old but just in case you haven't died of old age yet and are still looking, here are some of my favs below 😅:

1. (Suza Landscape Plant 01 fixed for planters) + 2. (Coronett Plant) are both by Milla and actually potless lol, but they snap to slots and go great with various deco planters;

3. Ung999 - Floor Plant 19 (t$r)

4. Ung999 - Floor Plant 18 (t$r)

5. sim_man123 Tall Berry Stick Vase (t$r)

6. Potted Plants from Monte Vista (or at Blams)

7. Jomsims - Ceiling Plant Nitrium (t$r)

8. sim_man123 - Chinese Evergreen Planter (t$r)

9. Novvvas Ficus Elastica conv by Marta

10. Dine Out Rubber Tree by Mochasims (orig post via The WayBack Machine, direct link here)

11. + 12. Snake Plant and Cactus by Gelina, backup folder by Sweetdevilsims here

13. Bresia Dinette Plant by Blackest_digital_artist (t$r)

14. Servitu Bathroom Plant by Murano (t$r)

#ts3 #wcif #ask #plants

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fuegoesquivo · 3 months

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A un año

A un año de su creación, este blog ha cambiado de uso. La lujuria oculta en la experiencia estética dio paso a la lujuria a secas, y de allí al deseo, a la melancolía. Lo que hay en el deseo no es exclusivamente sexual, sino otro tipo de contacto, de intimidad. Seguido, cuando me masturbo, me invade esa melancolía. Añoro otro tipo de contacto, de complicidad en la desnudez, el consentimiento y el placer, incluso en las fantasías de dominación que he comenzado a tener. Añoro el tacto, el aroma de la respiración, la humedad y el conocimiento y control cercano de otro cuerpo, otro sueño. Todo esto es inseparable de las cursilerías que acompañan al amor y los poemas que antaño, en otra vida, escribía. Poemas cortos, pequeños, húmedos, para nada sexuales, pero muy excitantes.

Bueno, como sea, aprovecho la circunstancia para dejar una lista de las etiquetas más importantes en este blog.

Trop Special permitaseme soñar artistic nude sweet elegante Fuego Close Up senos piernas piel descubierta trasero monte de venus pies sombrero y mis modelos favoritas, en ningún orden Anna Tatu Viktoriia Aliko Gloria Sol Katya Clover Serena Wood Rachel Cook Caramel Siya Miller Marta Gromova

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docpiplup · 1 year

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Antena 3 presented this Tuesday, October 10, in the first edition of the South Festival, Beguinas, a series inspired by the beguinages, communities of women who, since the 13th century, defended an alternative way of life independent of marriage and Church. The new fiction bet will be available sooner for Atresplayer premium users.

Beguinas, which has ten 50-minute episodes, is produced by Atresmedia TV in collaboration with Buendía Estudios. The Beguines dedicated themselves to contemplation, but also to action, through crafts, teaching, or caring for the sick, which provided benefits to society while allowing them to be. This new series takes as reference the history of these women, which has remained hidden throughout the centuries.

The actors Amaia Aberasturi and Yon González star in the fiction. They play, respectively, Lucía de Avellaneda and Telmo Medina, two young people who will overcome the social impositions of the time and risk everything for love in a context that is not conducive to them. Beatriz Segura, Melani Olivares, Jaime Olías, Ella Kweku, Lucía Caraballo, Javier Beltrán, Meritxell Calvo, Silma López, Laura Galán, Elisabeth Gelabert, Ignacio Montes, Antonio Durán 'Morris', Jonás Berami, Jorge Kent and Cristina Plazas, among others , complete the cast of the series.

Beguinas is a production of Atresmedia TV in collaboration with Buendía Estudios. Montse García, Sonia Martínez and Amparo Miralles are the executive producers of this fiction, which will be directed by Rómulo Aguillaume and Claudia Pinto. The script will be written by Irene Rodríguez, Esther Morales and Silvia Arribas.

Marta de Miguel signs the Production direction, Iván Caso and Álex García the Photography direction and Jorge de Soto the Art direction. Bubi Escobar will be in charge of Wardrobe, while Makeup and Hairstyling will be directed respectively by Mariló Serrano and Fermín Galán. Juan León is the Casting Director.

Synopsis

Segovia, 1559. Lucía de Avellaneda celebrates her engagement party with the Marquis of Peñarrosa, a nobleman chosen by her brother. This marriage promises to reinforce the financial and social status of the family, but, in the middle of the celebration, the fiancée receives an unexpected letter from a woman who claims to be her mother and who claims her on her deathbed.

Lucía shows up at the beguinage, where her mother has summoned her. In this place she lives with other women independently and outside the Church. The young woman opens up to a new world that will make her question everything she has known until now. And, furthermore, he will know love through a pure and uncontrollable, but forbidden, passion. He will risk everything for Telmo, a Jewish man who must hide his beliefs and his past.

Main cast and characters

Lucía de Avellaneda (Amaia Aberasturi) Intelligent, curious and combative. Educated and innocent, until her mother's call disrupts her life. In the beguinage she discovers an environment of sorority and critical thinking that revolutionizes her idea of the world and breaks down the walls that her status as a Christian noble woman has imposed on her. When she meets Telmo she feels for the first time an attraction that she has never experienced, but his commitment and loyalty will stop her impulses, determined to fight for what really matters to her.

Telmo Medina (Yon González): Telmo is an attractive, lucid and mysterious young man who hides his Jewish origins. He works in a bakery and supplies the beguinage with what it needs from outside. He doesn't want problems, but he doesn't avoid them either. Loyal, sincere and honest, he cannot help but risk everything for a Christian noble woman.

Marie Anne (Beatriz Segura) Beguine and the successor of The Great Lady, she is wise, strong and enigmatic. Its mission is to protect the beguinage from certain ecclesiastical authorities who fear its independence. Guiding Lucía through the truth, she will help her connect with her mother's spirit and live in the beguinage with other women who, like her, long for a freedom that they cannot find outside. In her past, she loved intensely and had to overcome a traumatic breakup, but that passion is unleashed again, although this time she does not want to repress herself despite the danger of remaining in love with a clandestine and sinful love.

Sibila García (Melani Olivares): A distrustful, surviving and sensitive woman, who grew up in misery and prostitution. Pregnant, she decided to escape and found her place in the beguinage. Her biggest concern is her daughter and, even though she reproaches her for it, she will do everything possible to try to protect her. The succession of Lucrecia is disputed and she competes with Marie Anne for the position of Great Lady.

Guiomar Ruy (Ella Kweku): Nigua, an Antillean slave, was sold to a doctor from Seville who gave her her new name and educated her when he noticed the maid's innate curiosity. She learned the trade of midwife from her mother and cultivated her interest in the human body and botany. She obtained his letter of freedom and decided to move to the beguinage of Valladolid where he can develop his concerns and care for the sick. She has judgment, instinct and knowledge. She gets upset with ignorance, prejudice and evil. Shee feels a deep complicity with Gonzalo, the clergyman, a harmony that sooner or later, she will have to give a name to.

Beatriz García (Lucía Caraballo): Daughter of Sibila and one of the youngest of the beguinage. Innocent, happy and lively. Her sexuality is awakening and she enjoys her body with curiosity and without fear until life outside the walls pushes her to hide her most intimate impulses. Her freedom of thought and work contrasts with that of Lucía. She has a relationship with her mother that has ups and downs, but the love they have for each other is above all. Each has a lot to learn from the other.

Juana Aranda (Silma López): Daughter of Sancho, the owner of the workshop, and sister of Lebrín. She enjoys an independence that was uncommon at that time. She has chosen to enter the beguinage to avoid a bad marriage or ending up dependent on his brother. Intelligent, prudent and thorough. She is in love with Telmo, but wants to be reciprocated. He has such a noble heart that his love does not prevent him from empathizing with Lucía and helping Telmo when things go wrong.

Lebrín Aranda (Jonás Berami): Close friend of Telmo, son of Sancho, the owner of the bakery and the only brother of Juana, the beguine. Rogue, generous and lively, he knows how to live avoiding laws, rules and sins. He enjoys carnal pleasures and lets himself be carried away by Jimena's lust until he discovers her danger and her evil ways. He will use his best resources to try to save the Beguines from the Inquisition.

Rodrigo de Guzmán, Marquis of Peñarrosa (Javier Beltrán): He is Lucía's fiancé. Castilian nobleman, of ancient ancestry and fortune. He is very well connected and has negotiated with his future brother-in-law to settle his debts and open the doors to him in Court in exchange for this marriage. He loves Lucía, she seems to him the right woman to fulfill her role as marchioness. He is dutiful, splendid and traditional, but he does not hesitate to bring out his most sinister side when his commitment is threatened.

Munio de Avellaneda, Count of Vellaví (Jaime Olías): Lucía's brother and heir to the County, but also to the debts left by his father. He needs to recover privileges and fortune, and his sister's marriage is the perfect deal. Arrogant, irascible and proud. He is willing to do anything to save his lineage and keep up appearances.

Jimena Suárez de Córdoba (Meritxell Calvo): Munio's wife. Intelligent, frivolous and capricious. He hoped to live up to his condition, but the Avellanedas' fortune is in debt and the only thing that can solve it is his sister-in-law's wedding. She will do everything possible to help her husband achieve it. She likes to seduce, get the most out of life and cleverly circumvent the rigid rules that her lineage demands. She won't hesitate to play with fire when she meets Lebrín, a hummingbird who, like her, doesn't want to miss out on the pleasures that life offers.

Catalina (Laura Galán): Lucía's faithful maid. Affectionate, smiling, devout and superstitious, she is torn between loyalty to Lucía and fear of Munio. Lucía, her mistress, and the beguines, who will pay dearly for her ignorance. She will do everything possible to correct her mistakes and ease her conscience.

Lucrecia de Avellaneda (Elisabeth Gelabert): The Great Lady of the Beguinage. Daughter of its founder, Leonor Labrit and heir to her legacy for which she had to sacrifice her children, distancing them from her side. Married to Pedro de Avellaneda, who called her crazy, she took refuge in the beguinage where she served as Great Lady. Cultured and mystical, her life and death are surrounded by mystery.

Gabriela Grijalvo (Cristina Plazas): Widow of a renowned printer and mother of Gonzalo. Cultured and respected lady from Valladolid renounced her true love for fear of facing her son's rejection.

Gonzalo de Grijalvo (Ignacio Montes): Clergyman related to the beguinate. Intelligent, attractive and empathetic. She admires the Beguines for their devotion and devotion to those in need, but above all Guiomar, with whom he has great complicity.

Father Lasarte (Antonio Durán 'Morris'): A priest with pretensions, whose greatest ambition is to end the privileges of the beguinages and become part of the Court of the Inquisition. Cunning and scheming, he uses fear and ignorance to manipulate the people and get them to demonize these women, inventing falsehoods about them. His main objective is Marie Anne, the Great Lady, whom he cannot defeat.

Commissioner Utrera (Jorge Kent) The executing arm of the Inquisition in Valladolid. Pursue crimes that threaten the power of the Church. He has the beguines in his sights, but knows the risks of attacking them because they enjoy important social support. Shrewd, arrogant and libidinous, he exercises his power with the arrogance that his position gives him.

Source

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