#francophones
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"You're ridiculous." :))💓
The watch on Pierre's hand feels heavy as he glances at it yet again--the moonlight is the only thing illuminating the footbridge, now, lights from the festival at the gazebo beginning to fade as people start to return to their homes. It's ticking closer and closer to 9, according to his timepiece. He'd told Charles 8:30 and watched the dazed, lovestruck expression on his face as he'd agreed, but...
What if he'd found out, and decided to stay away like any man with good sense should? Pierre has had a terrible feeling that the town is on to him as of late, which means he's likely on borrowed time until he can split for the next train out of town. It's nights like these that he thinks about maybe trying to become legitimate: turn into an actual traveling salesman instead of being a con-man. It has to be easier. Less lies to tell means less lies to get caught in, which means less fear of being pulverized by the small-town idiot mayor.
It's a thought that's never seriously crossed his mind until here and now: Pierre has been doing this for years, selling and running and selling and running before people realize he's not actually trained in any kind of musical arts whatsoever, and he's never regretted it. There's never been a conscience in him to feel guilty over this. But tonight, walking through the woods and chuckling softly at all the couples he'd passed, kissing and dancing and snuggling up together under the cover of darkness, it had occurred to him that these are good people, here in Iowa.
They're good people, and Pierre has been lying to them. To him.
"Pierrot!" Charles' voice bursts through his contemplative thought. He looks up, startled, only to find the librarian standing at the end of the footbridge, eyes sparkling and lit-up in the moonlight as he paces slowly towards where Pierre is trying desperately to not white-knuckle the bridge rail. He looks impossibly handsome, the pink of his collared shirt almost the same shade as the pink of his cheeks.
"Charles," he greets softly, taking a step closer before remembering his manners. Instead, Pierre takes his hand and squeezes it once before releasing him. "I didn't think you would come."
Charles looks aghast at the thought. "You're ridiculous," he half-says, half-gasps. The sound makes Pierre want to laugh. "I would not miss being here with you for the world." He's the one who moves closer, this time, and there are a thousand warning sirens blaring in Pierre's head about all of this: about the townspeople catching them together, about being honest about how he feels, about Charles falling for someone who has been lying to him. He shouldn't be letting this happen, whatever it is.
But he does. He does, because Pierre is nothing if not a thief, and he's too selfish to deny himself this: one last chance with the librarian he's become so fond of over the last few weeks. "I'm glad," he manages a beat too late. "You danced wonderfully out there tonight."
Charles ducks his head, the flush of his cheeks darkening. "You were something, too," he answers back. Steps closer. He's so close that he's within touching distance, and Pierre could just grab the lapels of his jacket and tug him close and give the only real thing he might ever be able to give. "Pierre..."
The cool night air keeps him from indulging, though. "Charles," Pierre says softly, quickly turning his attention to the ripple of the water to avoid Charles getting any closer, lest he...lest they..."I have to leave soon." He hears the sharp inhale that follows but knows he has to plow through. Charles can't be in love with a man like him. It will be easier for him, eventually, to forget about this: to forget about the music man who'd come to town and swept everyone off their feet and then fled. "The mayor, he's been on my case for days, now, and I don't..." he swallows. "I don't have the papers he's asking for, Charles. He could arrest me." It's a sobering thought. He's never gotten this lost in a town before.
But it's not the town, Pierre knows. Not really. When he turns his head, Charles is staring at him with wide, hurt eyes, and Pierre has never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life. "You can't leave, Pierre," he whispers. "What about the band? Arthur is so excited about his trumpet, and I have never seen him so happy about anything." There are tears in his eyes. God. "What about..." he trails off, then takes a slow breath and continues, "what about me?"
He's done for. Done. The next town he'll have to give in to the first woman who throws herself at him and pray she'll make him forget this moment, because Charles...he might love Charles, really and truly, with his entire dishonest heart. Con-men aren't supposed to fall like this. "Cheri," he says--barely audible, the confession weighing heavy on his voice. "I am not the man you think I am." It's the most he can say without saying it: I have been lying to you about every aspect of who I am, and I'm in love with you, and you'll hate me if you know the truth. Charles is young and handsome and full of life: he'll have no problem finding a wife and leaving the memory of Pierre behind, and as nauseating as the thought is to him, he knows it's what must happen.
Charles blinks at him slowly, then shakes his head. "Pierre," he begins, and then reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a folded, battered piece of paper. "I know."
And that...Pierre blinks, shakes his head once out of shock. "You know?"
"I know," Charles repeats, fiddling with the paper again. "Your name is not in the Indiana Conservatory records, Pierre Gasly." He unfolds the paper to reveal a page torn right from what must be the Conservatory records--a copy he'd seen in the library not too long ago. He swallows. "I looked not too long after you came to town, and when I didn't see your name..." He pauses. "I was going to hand this over to the mayor, but when Arthur's instrument came...I couldn't take that joy away from him." Pierre can't stop staring at him: at how beautiful he is with tears shining in his eyes, at how resolute his face looks as he tells Pierre that he...
He knew, all this time, and still let Pierre do as he does.
"And I don't care, Pierre," he continues fiercely, closing the distance between them and grabbing fistfuls of Pierre's jacket. "I do not care that you are not a music man, or that you were just a con-man who landed in our little town. I don't care at all."
Pierre is dizzy with it. "Charles." He's struck speechless for the first time in his life. What is he even supposed to say to this man who just turned his entire life upside down? "What are you saying?"
Charles surges forward and closes the last thread of moonlight between them, kissing Pierre so hard it's a wonder they don't tumble over the bridge's railing altogether. It's fast and a flurry, and he doesn't even have a chance to process it before Charles pulls away again and crumples the Conservatory record sheet in his hand. "I am saying," he murmurs, still leaned close enough that their noses are bumped together, "I love you. I love you as you are."
#piarles#10 x 16#fic#AU tag#bel thank you for inadvertently giving me the opportunity to write music man au piarles. i love u.#jgdklsjgskljgslj sorry this is such a niche concept! and also sorry i was too lazy to fix it geographically! its okay to ignore<3#but like. watch the music man (1962). it is so easy to piarlify yall would not Believe.#romance meme#ask reply#francophones
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Months after saying that accepting more than 50,000 immigrants a year would be “suicidal” for Quebec, the province’s premier is considering increasing the number of immigrants who arrive in the province to 60,000 a year.
Premier François Legault said that will be possible after an immigration reform that will require the vast majority of people who come through the province’s economic immigration system to speak French before they arrive.
“From the moment we are able to, because there’s real openness on the part of the federal government, say that the increase is only francophones, or people who have mastered French, that completely changes the situation,” he told reporters Thursday in Quebec City.
Full article
Tagging: @politicsofcanada
#cdnpoli#canadian politics#canadian news#canada#canadian#françois legault#québec#quebec#xenophobia#xenophobia tw#immigration#french#francophones
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for @francophones / @boscpierres, rest in pieces sdkfjsdlkjflkjg may you be freed from horny jail soon 🙏🙏🙏
full / face-fucking (but i guess it can be also for full?? maybe) -- apprx 220 words of lewis + charles/pierre
“He takes it well,” Lewis says above Charles, thumbing at the spit pooling at the corner of his mouth. Charles shudders, spread out on his back with his head tipped back and half hanging off the edge of the bed, level with hard cut lines of Lewis’s pelvis and his cock pushing all the way down Charles’s throat. The praise is and isn’t for Charles—which makes it all the more embarrassing when he moans helplessly at it anyway, nose pressed up behind the soft skin of Lewis’s balls.
“You’re longer than I am,” says Pierre, a mix of hero worship and appreciation lined with envy that Charles can only tease out through his lightheaded daze out of years-long familiarity. It’s the kind of stupid thing Pierre would notice, but Charles can’t even call him out on it, jaw slack and open for Lewis’s use while Pierre settles in even deeper between his legs, three fingers scraping roughly up across Charles’s prostate. Charles’s whole body thrums with desire, like a plucked string pulled taut between the two. The feeling doesn’t lessen any when Pierre bites the inside of his thigh and tells Lewis, “He can take even more.”
When Lewis begins fucking Charles's mouth for real, warm hands cradling the sides of his face, the thread snaps.
virginity / voyeur (this was supposed to be some kind of virginity play but then i never got to the actual penetration. oops) -- apprx 190 words of pierre/charles
“Have you never?” Pierre asks, unable to look away from the fascinating bloom of color spreading across Charles’s cheeks and the tips of his ears and nose.
Charles clearly swallows his first reply. “No,” he says shortly and then, when Pierre raises his eyebrows, repeats it in a softer voice, more demure. “No, Pierrot.”
There is some trick to this game that Pierre still hasn’t quite unlocked, but he’s sure that he’ll figure it out sooner rather than later. “I can show you,” he says instead, channeling his confidence forward in a different way. Charles’s mouth falls open, tongue flickering out.
“Please,” Charles says. His eyelashes fan up and down in a slow sweep over his smooth, clean-shaven cheeks. When Pierre draws him in for a kiss, coaxing and sweet, Charles leans into the touch easily, opening up for Pierre’s tongue. Pierre has seen Charles with girls before—but he’s almost passive now, settling into Pierre's lap and letting Pierre take the lead. The only tell is when his fingers twitch in a half-aborted movement behind Pierre’s neck when the kiss finally ends.
“You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?” Pierre asks. “Waiting for me.”
Charles lets out a sharp exhale of breath, hips jerking forward.
#pierre/charles/lewis#pierre/charles#my fic#francophones#alphabet meme#pg10#cl16#lh44#piarles#chewierre#trying to remember what the 'common' ship portmanteaus are...
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chewie !
if chewie means charles and lewis: makes sense, doesn't compel me (for now)
I think my problem lies with *drum roll please* Sebastian Vettel.
I love sewis, I love sebchal, chewie makes me feel I'm missing something you know? Personally would love to see some sebchewie, just to feed a hunger 👉👈 but I would not be opposed to be turned into a chewie girl with sufficiently good fanfics (if you have any recs pls send them my way <3).
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geochal 🚛
this is another makes sense, doesn't compel me
although weirdly my argument for this is not as strong, it's mostly that they have such a fun dynamic (as you allude to with your TRUCK EMOJI!) and are easy around each other — I think for me, I don't know where the spark comes in. Obviously Charles is shockingly beautiful and George is shockingly beautiful like a stick bug, but you can't just smash two beautiful ken dolls together... I mean you can...
I'm trying to think of where the very necessary sexual tension would come from here and I am coming up dry! But by virtue of them being friends and pals yes, i think it makes more sense than it doesn't but i need to be sold on it!
for the ask meme
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pierresteban 🇫🇷
makes sense doesn't really compel me but that's bc i dont really care ab them. Though i get it, the lore is there, i enjoy them when they are in the background of some of the fics i read!
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long shot, but can anyone recommend any good queer sci-fi or fantasy novels in french?
I want to improve my french by reading more, but I want it to be worth it
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L'avenir du français en Afrique.
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#pc#computer#laptop lifestyle#french keyboard#french laptop#lenovo laptop#canada#shop canada#laptop#best deals on laptops#laptop deals#laptop sales#laptop best seller#best price laptop#ecofriendly laptop#francophone#francophones
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16, 17 & 22 if you please ❣️
OOO bel these are such good questions!!!! thank u my darling <3
16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles?
gdjskgldsmlgkdsg i'm such a bad author. 99% of the time it is at the very end of writing it, and it's me going through every song ive listened to in the last week for a lyric. every once in a while tho, i'll be skeleton drafting and be STRUCK with inspiration mid-bullet point and change the doc title and whatnot. (i.e. jersey boy blues, desperado)
17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?
me being a bad author again: i SELDOM do research for the things i write. it's terrible but i end up lingering in the characters more than the context by the end so it doesn't feel too blasphemous imo.
that being said. it's not technically research, BUT i did spend several hours in google maps while writing overtime when they were driving to practice staying awake for extended periods of time in the car. i clicked through the french countryside a LOT trying to figure out traffic patterns and logistics before realizing it would just be easier if pierre fell asleep.
22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?
i used to fly by the seat of my pants and just write on a whim....now generally i have to at LEAST bracket-note all my fics so i can keep them on-track. these days, yeah, i do know how my fics will end most of the time--unless something crazy happens during the writing process that totally 180s my idea.
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During his time as a local newspaper columnist, mayoral candidate Mark Sutcliffe advocated for the elimination of all funding to community festivals that rely on support from the City of Ottawa.
Singling out Capital Pride, Festival Franco-Ontarien and the Tulip Festival, Sutcliffe argued community festivals were a bad “investment” that produce little economic value.
“It’s too much like a parent handing out more and more cash to a teenager who never learns how to look after himself,” Sutcliffe wrote.
“The city should give the festivals fair warning and wean them off the grant program over the next three years.”
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @politicsofcanada
#Ottawa#Mark Sutcliffe#LGBTQ#Homophobia#cdnpoli#canada#canadian politics#canadian news#canadian#Transphobia#Ontario#francophones
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omg [piarles] regency ish
half of my google docs started out as like. a small, silly thing on tumblr dot com that has since grown intimidatingly in my mind (i've never written a long fic before, help......), so originally this started out here! now i have some more words on the page, but i would say that section has only some minor edits and the general shape of the overall idea is the same?? anyway... :>
***
The next morning is slow and quiet, with half the staff given the day off as reward for all their hard work leading up to the ball. Pierre leaves Charles cocooned within their bed sheets to respond to some of his more pressing letters in his study. Despite his earlier start to the day, Pierre is so absorbed in a trade report that he finds himself last to arrive at breakfast.
“You should have started without me,” Pierre says, kissing his mother's cheek perfunctorily as he passes by her chair.
“We would have,” his father teases, “but Charles insisted we wait for you.”
Cheeks staining pink, Charles butters his toast with an unprecedented attention toward breakfast condiments. Pierre falters, the grin on his face wavering for a split second as he takes his seat across from Charles. It is too easy to forget in moments like this that Pierre has only half of what he has dreamed of, even if it is more than he had ever hoped.
“Did anyone catch your eye last night?” Pierre asks Arthur, changing the subject. The face that Arthur makes is so sour that Pierre cannot hold back his snort of amusement.
“Do not start,” Arthur groans. “Maman and Charles have been at it all morning.”
Pierre raises his eyebrow at Charles, who sighs. “I thought we might host a games night soon, at your apartment in town,” he explains. “Now that we have a better sense of the field, and Lorenzo will be back, too, next week.”
“Of course, whatever you think is best,” Pierre agrees. “It is your household, too.”
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321 Millions de francophones; des milliards de contenus culturels.
La majorité de ces francophones ont un usage quotidien de la langue. 62 % d'entre eux résident en Afrique, soit 2,5 points de plus qu'en 2018.
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Dancing on the beach in The Gambia
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Redingote c. 1815-1825 in piqué de coton (Paris Musées).
Description and machine translation:
Redingote longue et croisée en piqué de coton blanc, col droit rabattu, 2 poches à revers boutonnés derrière et une poche intérieure gauche, fermé par 12 boutons, 2 petits boutons aux manches.
Long, double-breasted frock coat in white cotton piqué, straight turn-down collar, 2 buttoned cuffed pockets behind and one left inside pocket, closed with 12 buttons, 2 small buttons on the sleeves.
The Dictionary of Fashion History by Valerie Cumming describes piqué as a textile from the 19th century and later, "Usually a cotton fabric, woven with a raised rib, often in a diamond pattern, also in straight horizontal or vertical ribs."
#1810s#1820s#fashion history#dress history#regency#bourbon restoration#historical men's fashion#redingote#embroidery#francophones with an interest in fashion history feel free to offer corrections#why nothing about the waistcoat?#textiles#extant
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since today is punctuation day, i figured i'd talk with you about my favorite punctuation that is sadly not in unicode
(my apologies if these crop weird)
these six marks were invented by french writer hervé bazin in his essay plumons l'oiseau (or 'let's pluck the bird')
while the essay also had aim to switch the french language to a more phonetic writing system, it also gave us six new punctuation marks!
from left to right and top to bottom these are, the acclamation point, the authority mark, the conviction point, the doubt point, the irony mark, and the love point. so let's go over what these all were supposed to convey! (or at least what i expect they were supposed to)
the acclamation point was meant for praise, goodwill, and enthusiasm (ie "Well done [acclamation point]")
the authority mark was meant to be used in situations where the exclamation was serious and involved a degree of command or urgency (ie "Get in my office right now [authority mark]") i think this— along with the love point and irony mark— shows how a lot of these punctuation marks were a bit like early examples of tone tags, i'll get into it more later
the certitude point was used to show sureness in a fact. (ie "It's absolutely positively true [certitude point]") i think this might be the most useless of the bunch but whatever. i digress.
the doubt point is kind of the opposite of the certitude point, used when you aren't sure of something (ie "It should be done tomorrow [doubt point]") also it should be noted that the example used above is not the only way you'll see the doubt point, some also have it looking like this
the idea of irony marks has been widely suggested, for example the poet/art critic/song writer (i think, this guy's only wiki page is in french and i am guessing a bit on the word 'chansonnier') alcanter de brahm suggested an irony mark that resembled a backwards question mark (not to be confused with the percontation point which indicated a rhetorical question) and belgian inventor (among other things) marcellin jobard suggested a point that looked like an upwards arrow (this △ on top of this |, i can't paste it)
^ de brahm's mark
all that to say, bazin's mark was based off of the greek letter psi (Ψ) which some of you may recognize if you are familiar with the greek language or comics that shall not be named. it's used in situations of irony (ie saying "Wow, that sure was brilliant [irony mark]" if someone did something stupid)
and our last point is the love point, known for being so adorable, and indicating love or affection after a sentence (ie "Thanks a lot bud [love point]")
now we can obviously see that some of these are very similar to tone tags! the love point could be like a /pos, the irony mark is kinda like a /sarc, the authority mark could be like a /srs . i just thought it was interesting i guess. i don't have a point (heh) here exactly except that i guess people might actually need these punctuation marks ? so unicode? give me the love point or give me death
anyways so that's some fun niche history for y'all! hope you enjoyed
#punctuation#not counting#i mean i know there's like. things you can use but i don't like them as much#side note. why are all of these people french. bazin was french. de brahm was french. jobard was belgian but he was born in french afaik#and belgium is a francophone country... is there something about the french language that makes everyone start just making new punctuation#i mean to be fair i am in french and i did try to remake the entire language with like seven grammatical genders#so maybe it's just a thing#punctuation day
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