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hedgehog-moss · 6 months

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Last Sunday in October, a story in five parts :)

i. The guy who owns the pasture next to mine took his cows back to their winter lodgings the other day, and told me I could let my llamas eat what was left of the grass if I wanted. That was sweet of him but his pasture's fence is cow-proof, not llama-proof, so I had to wait for a sunny day, so I could sit with a book nearby and keep an eye on the llamas Pampe. Today was the day!

Pampy looked happy about this unexpected change of scenery and started grazing peacefully, meanwhile Pampe started with exploring the whole pasture, including the patch of woods at the back, hoping to find a flaw in the fence.

(Note Poldine below, desperately running after her mum so she won't be left behind if Pampe does find an opportunity to escape)

ii. I found some impressive coulemelles in this new pasture (I don't know any mushroom names in English sorry.) I cut one to take to the pharmacy and ask if they're the good kind (here with my hand for scale)

They're also known as nez de chat, cat's nose mushrooms, in some regions...

I found some girolles nearby last year, but not this time. The llamas seemed to be on their best behaviour so I thought after lunch I'd go look for mushrooms farther away in the woods, down by the torrent, instead of watching them all day.

Poldine, watch your mother.

I asked Merricat if she was volunteering her services as a llama-sitter (it looked like it)

—but she suspected I was going home where the fire is, so she followed me. (I don't make a fire on sunny afternoons, though... she had to nap in my cardigan instead. Not as good, but a tolerated second-best option.)

iii. I took Pan with me after lunch so he wouldn't encourage Pampe in mischief, and he was uncharacteristically audacious in his frolicking! He doesn't like water and he's usually quite prudent when we're near the torrent, even scolding me if I climb on mossy rocks, but today he was jumping from one slippery rock to the other very boldly.

As I was taking this nice waterfall photo, I heard a very dramatic high-pitched squeal followed by a dramatic splashing sound, and when I turned around Pandolf was dragging himself out of the torrent, looking, as we say in french, honteux et confus.

I'm sorry that his bout of audacious frolicking had to end this way :( Back to frolicking gingerly for at least a couple of years... (His fur is magical though, he looks like a drowned rat at first but then shakes himself twice and is immediately back to a normal volume of floof. So his dignity doesn't suffer for long, at least.)

iv. I found no mushrooms but something even better!

I love chestnuts so much, I've been hoping to find chestnut trees for years but was starting to think they just don't grow at this altitude... But I suck at identifying trees so it's very possible I walked past them dozens of times and never recognised them when it wasn't chestnut season.

You really have to earn every chestnut, even with the crushing-under-your-boot method to squeeze them out you still have to extricate them from their burr going ow ow ow the whole time. The worst thing is when you kill your fingers opening a reticent burr and it resentfully spits out a bunch of sad deflated worthless chestnuts.

Still, I ended up going home with chestnuts in every single one of my pockets. When we got out of the woods and back on the road Pandolf and I ran into a woman we don't know (so, not a close neighbour) and we started talking about foraging and I wondered if I should tell her about the nearby chestnut spot. But those things are private. No one told me about the chestnut spot even after I made increasingly heavy casual hints about how much I love chestnuts. After a while though I started suspecting this lady knew about the spot and was on her way there. Or on her way back, through a different path. She looked shifty. So did I. It's very possible that we were both standing there in the middle of the road with our coat pockets crammed with chestnuts, making pointedly non-chestnut-related small talk.

v. I went home and started making chestnut-pumpkin soup while dodging constant coordinated chicken attacks. At first they act like they're napping on a conveniently-nearby chair, or looking the other way, and as soon as you stop distrusting their intentions, they pounce, often from two different directions.

Side plot: Pandolf spent this whole time desperately trying to catch a cat, to restore his self-confidence after falling in the torrent.

Morille went from strolling casually on top of the fence to lounging casually in the hazel tree above my head, making it look like she hadn't even noticed she was being chased, which was very frustrating for Pandolf. Nothing wounds a dog like going unnoticed.

I told Morille it would make him happy if she let him catch her, and she was like eh, fine, and elegantly jumped from the hazel tree to the top of the stone wall.

Pandolf immediately followed, poked her a bit brutally with his big nose, and then he didn't know what else to do with her once he caught her so he just wagged his tail like "Well played, cat!! It was nice chasing you" and left.

v. bis (or ter) I want to reassure Pirlouit fans (who might have noticed that he wasn't allowed to graze in the neighbour's pasture with the llamas) that he knows he's entitled to fair compensation as a donkey, and he stood behind the fence the whole time I was preparing my soup, patiently waiting for his pumpkin benefits. Which he did get.

I found some leftover chestnuts in my trouser pocket tonight, that I'd forgotten about, so I'm having stove-roasted chestnuts for dessert after the chestnut soup! Chestnuts were 90% of my dinner and were also the reason Pandolf got dinner. I ran out of dog kibble and I was thinking of giving him a hard-boiled egg and some rice tonight, and go buy kibble tomorrow, but on our way back this afternoon we stopped by our closest neighbour's house and I humbly offered a handful of chestnuts in exchange for one serving of kibble. The neighbour's dog didn't look enchanted with our offer but his human agreed. I usually trade with my chicken's eggs but this woman has hens so I'm glad chestnuts are also accepted as valid currency.

#crawling along #i love numbered lists but i really should stop using them in my posts because i always end up adding extra stuff at the end 😭

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onlyonetifosi · 9 months

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Behind the camera -> Prologue

"Maman, Papa, you promised to tell me something special today," Lorenzo said, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Pascale exchanged a loving glance with Hervé and then smiled at their eager son. "Well, Lorenzo, you are going to be a big brother," she announced, her voice brimming with joy.

Lorenzo's face lit up with delight. "Really? I'm going to have a little brother or sister?" he asked, hardly able to contain his excitement.

Pascale laughed gently and nodded. "Actually, you're going to have both! You're going to be a big brother of twins!"

"Des jumeaux?! Deux frères ou deux sœurs?" Lorenzo asked, his French flowing naturally as he processed the news. (Twins?! Two brothers or two sisters?)

Hervé grinned. "Un frère et une sœur" he replied. {One brother and one sister}

Lorenzo's eyes widened even more, realizing he was going to have a brother and a sister. "C'est incroyable!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his parents' necks in a tight hug (This is incredible!)

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

Over the next few months, Pascale's pregnancy progressed beautifully, but with the joy of having twins came the challenges of carrying two babies at once. She experienced intense cravings, sometimes even at odd hours of the night.

"Maman, you want pickles and ice cream for breakfast?!" Lorenzo chuckled one morning as he found his mother raiding the fridge.

She grinned sheepishly. "It's the babies, they're making me crave all sorts of things," she explained, trying to balance a jar of pickles and a tub of ice cream in her hands.

As the due date approached, Pascale's anticipation mingled with nervousness. Her pregnancy had been more tiring than the first time she carried Lorenzo, and giving birth to twins presented its own set of challenges

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

The day had finally arrived - October 16th, a day that would forever change the lives of the Leclerc family. Pascale, the expectant mother, was lying in her hospital bed, surrounded by her husband Hervé and their eldest son Lorenzo. The anticipation in the air was palpable as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the newest additions to their family

Inside the delivery room, the medical team prepared for the unique challenge that lay ahead. Pascale's pregnancy had been a rollercoaster, and as the time approached, the doctors were on high alert. The twins were fraternal, but it had become evident during the course of the pregnancy that they were different in more than just their gender. Yn, the youngest, had been nestled lower in her mother's womb, making her delivery more complicated.

Meanwhile, Lorenzo was staying with Philippe Bianchi and his family, a friend of his dad. Jules, who was now eight years old, was Lorenzo’s best friend and Charles’ future godfather. The two boys eagerly waited for news of the twins' arrival.

"Do you think they'll be okay, Jules?" Lorenzo asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Jules patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Of course, they will! Your maman and papa are strong, and the doctors are taking good care of them. We'll get to meet the babies soon!"

As the clock struck noon, the contractions intensified, and Pascale's grip on Hervé's hand tightened. "Ça fait mal," she said, her face contorting with pain (It hurts)

Hervé, trying to be the supportive husband he always was, replied, "Tout va bien se passer, mon amour. Les médecins sont là pour nous aider." (Everything will be fine, my love. The doctors are here to help us.)

In the Bianchi house, Lorenzo was pacing back and forth, his nerves getting the better of him. He was excited about having siblings, but the thought of being responsible for two new lives made him feel a mix of emotions. He glanced at his father, who was trying his best to reassure him with a smile.

Back in the delivery room, Pascale was giving it her all. The medical staff encouraged her, "Vous faites du bon travail, Madame Leclerc. Bientôt, vos bébés seront là" (You're doing a great job, Mrs. Leclerc. Soon, your babies will be here)

After what felt like an eternity, the moment had arrived. The first cries of a baby filled the room. Charles had made his entrance into the world. Relief washed over Pascale, and tears welled up in Hervé's eyes as he saw his son for the first time.

The medical team continued to work efficiently, and soon, both babies were cleaned and swaddled in warm blankets. Hervé and Lorenzo were allowed into the room to meet the newest members of their family.

The moment Hervé and Pascale laid eyes on their newborn twins, tears of joy streamed down their cheeks. Pascale whispered softly in French, "Ils sont tellement beaux, nos bébés." (They are so beautiful, our babies.)

Hervé kissed her forehead and replied, "Oui, ils le sont, mon amour. (Yes, they are, my love.) Our little miracles."

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

The next day, with the newborn twins cradled in Pascale's arms, Lorenzo entered the hospital room, his excitement palpable. He approached the bed, looking down at his new siblings with awe.

"Hey, little ones," he said softly. "Je suis ton grand frère Lorenzo {I am your big brother Lorenzo} They're so tiny!" he exclaimed, carefully touching Yn's tiny hand and then Charles’

Hervé smiled proudly and placed an arm around Lorenzo's shoulders. "Yes, they are. Meet your baby brother, Charles, and your baby sister, Yn"

"Charles et Yn?" Lorenzo repeated their names with a hint of wonder in his voice

"Yes, Charles and Yn," Pascale said, her eyes shining with joy

"Maman, they're adorable!" Lorenzo said, beaming at his mother. "I promise to be the best big brother ever!"

Tears of joy welled up in Pascale's eyes as she pulled her son into a warm embrace. "You already are, mon chéri. I know you'll be an amazing big brother to them"

The Leclerc family was overjoyed with the new additions. News of the twins' arrival spread quickly, and soon the hospital room was filled with family members eager to meet the newest additions. Uncles, aunts, and cousins showered the twins with love and affection, while their grandparents couldn't stop beaming with pride.

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

Jules, the godfather, was ecstatic when he finally got to meet the twins. He bent down and kissed their foreheads gently, promising to protect them and be the best godfather he could be.

Jules Bianchi, Charles' godfather, was only eight years old, but he felt incredibly responsible and honored to be given such an important role. When he heard the news, he rushed to the hospital with a small gift in hand. "Bienvenue, les petits! Je suis votre parrain, Jules." (Welcome, little ones! I'm your godfather, Jules.)

The room filled with laughter and joy as everyone celebrated the arrival of the twins. Yn and Charles were already surrounded by an immense amount of love from their family and friends.

As the days turned into weeks, and the twins grew, their bond with Lorenzo strengthened. They had an unbreakable connection as the Leclerc siblings, and the world was eager to see the adventures that awaited them.

#charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc imagine #behind the camera fic #charles leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #f1 drivers x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f2 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc

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agendabymooner · 5 months

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ditty and estie greet the world || eo31 scenario

dad!esteban ocon x mom!ofc (british royal!ofc) ft. ocon!baby

POTENTIAL EXTENSION TO THE ROYAL RESEMBLANCE (SMAU)

Summary: Diana ‘Ditty’ Ocon made her presence known to the formula one world as a two year old during the FIA prize giving ceremony. Her sweetness, however, was what encouraged her parents Albertine and Esteban to show the world her capabilities as a shy toddler.

Content warning: dad!Esteban content 😚, fluff, based on an idea I brought up to a moot, shitty French translation, Lissie Mackintosh segment, shy toddler being cheered on, OFC and baby resembles Princess Diana

Note: Having an Oscar Piastri brain rot atm but I need to get wholesome dad!F1 driver out of my system. I’m currently restraining my brain from writing more smut rn.

My friend would’ve gotten twenty dollars from me if Ferrari won this race but noooo they didn’t soooo. Enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

“Tu es très jolie, Ditty ! Maman t'a-t-elle habillée?” You look very pretty, Ditty! Did Mummy dress you up?

“Mummy m'habille!” Mummy dress me! The little girl who sat on the Alpine driver’s lap grinned toothily at her father, babbling at her parents as she continued to speak, “Papa, rentre bientôt chez toi?” Go home soon?

“Darling,” Albie laughed heartily, “Nous venons de quitter l'hôtel!” We just left the hotel.

“But go home soon?” Diana Marie-François Elisabeth Ocon-Khelfane, or Ditty to most, was a delightful little girl. Her great uncle Charles Spencer recalled his eldest sister’s childhood photos and how much resemblance did Ditty have to Princess Diana. Everyone in Esteban and Albertine’s family knew that, much like Albie, Ditty was a carbon copy of Diana Spencer.

Though if you were to ask anyone, Ditty was more like Diana than Albie was. Ditty was more reserved and shy— she had gotten her personality from Esteban, who often took a while to get used to new people before warming up to them. It was no wonder why Estie and Ditty made the bestest of friends— they liked to attach themselves to each other AND to Albie.

“We’re not going home soon, pretty,” Albie told Ditty gently, fixing her daughter’s bow as the girl continued to look up with the brightest blue eyes to have ever existed. Her eyes, no matter how bright, were shaped like her father’s— so no one could really oppose and say that she wasn’t her father’s daughter. “Papa’s going to get his award soon, no? We’ll be there for Papa, Ditty.”

“A- ‘wawd?” Ditty’s brows furrowed a little as she looked up at Estie with a puzzled look. “What is ‘ward?”

“C'est quand vous avez fait quelque chose de vraiment, vraiment bien et que vous en obtenez quelque chose de bon,” It’s when you do something really really good that you get something good out of it. Esteban explained to Ditty with a grin.

“Like you eating your veggies,” Estie continued. “What does Mummy give you?”

“Pain au choc’lat?”

“Oui, mon bebe,” Estie nodded. “Except Papa’s getting something else. Not pain au chocolat!”

Apparently, it was going to be a struggle— getting Ditty to socialize with everyone around them. It took Albie a while to unattach the toddler in her arms.

Only for the girl to cling to Esteban as she hid her face away from the press and other people. She kept her hands wrapped around Estie’s neck as her blonde hair appeared in the pictures, journalists and photographers asking Estie and Albie to pose for the cameras. They didn’t relent, allowing Ditty to hide her little cherub face away for a brief moment as the couple waved and smiled.

Albie, realizing that she had the little mouse plush on her hand (one that Ditty called ‘Cheese’), put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder gently and caught the toddler’s attention. “Want your friend Cheese, Dit?”

Ditty lifted her face off her dad’s shoulder for a brief moment and nodded, “Mewci, Mummy,” before hiding away again.

Estie and Albie exchanged looks and chuckled, amused at their daughter’s demeanour.

“Ditty, bebe,” Estie told the girl, “Cheese wants to say hi to everyone. You want to wave too?”

“Oh, I want to say hi, indeed, Papa!” Albie mimicked a different voice, as if she was pretending to be Cheese. “Pouvons-nous dire bonjour ensemble, Ditty?” Can we please say hi together, Ditty?

“See? He wants to wave— show him, like this—“ Estie smiled at the cameras and waved. Albie followed along, cameras flashing as they smiled.

Slowly but surely, Ditty’s hand began to wave. She hadn’t realized that Cheese was on her hand, but she was doing what her Mummy and Papa were doing. That was enough for her.

And when they reached the F1 host for the red carpet, Ditty went back to hiding. This time, she clutched Cheese in her hand as Esteban got interviewed by Lissie Mackintosh.

“This is actually amazing— seeing you in P3 in the championship’s. I’m quite happy to see you become successful this season,” Lissie complimented Esteban. “Are you looking forward to the next one? Do you know what your next steps are?”

“I— I’m actually really excited for the next season,” Esteban grinned, not even aware that he’s carrying her daughter in his arms as he continued to answer. “With how things went with the car and successful communication between my team and I, I thought that it gave me more confidence to move on with the next season. And even if there will be a struggle, I know that we’ll be able to sort it out.”

“I like that,” Lissie nodded before she noticed the girl hiding away in Esteban’s arms. The host continued to ask regardless, “But for now you’re just here to celebrate your successes and you’ll be getting your prize for the P3. And I can tell that you’re here with your family too! How amazing is that!”

“—Mrs. Albertine Ocon, it’s very nice to see you,” Lissie continued as the royal princess smiled and greeted back. “It’s been quite a handful this season, huh? I’m very glad to see you back in the Formula One celebrations and events— we’ve missed your presence in the paddock.”

“Ah yes,” the British princess chuckled, “just because I was gone for a while it didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything.”

“We all know that,” Lissie rolled her eyes playfully. “You probably had been working harder than your husband in here!”

“Hey!” Esteban laughed alongside the two women before he nodded in agreement, “Well, I can’t really deny that! This little darling right here was a hard work made by Albie and me but… Albie’s done more to help her grow, you know?”

Speaking of the devil…

Ditty Ocon finally grew tired of hiding away as she lifted her head and looked in front of her, cowering under the watchful eyes and camera pointed at her and her family before she hid again.

Esteban chuckled and reassured, “No, no, it’s okay, bebe! Just wave! Like we did!”

Ditty, feeling a bit hesitant, waved lightly and continued to clutch Cheese the mouse in her hand.

“You look absolutely beautiful!” Lissie complimented the girl with a grin, trying to be as chill to allow the girl to grow comfortable with her. “Can you tell us what your name is?”

Ditty looked at her parents as she hid her face from everyone, earning soft chuckles and a series of ‘awww’ from her surroundings.

Everyone already knew that she was Princess Diana in the making with the shyness that she showed everyone.

But Esteban and Albertine Ocon weren’t about to let her meekness get in the way of her opportunity to be friendly to others.

Esteban started, “It’s okay if you want to speak French, mon ange.”

He looked back at Lissie, “She prefers talking to people in French first before English.”

“Ah,” Lissie nodded.

“It’s okay, darling,” Albie cooed quietly, tucking the girl’s hair behind her ears as the princess continued, “they're nice people. We talk to them.”

“Can you say… ‘je’…” Esteban instructed his daughter.

Ditty, with all her capabilities at the moment, had mumbled to the microphone, “Je…”

“Suis…”

“Su’…”

“…Ditty.”

“…D—tty,” the girl mumbled with lack of confidence.

“Je suis Ditty!” Esteban repeated with a grin, his smile infecting the girl as she enthusiastically repeated this time with, “Je suis Di-tty!” I am Ditty!

Rounds of applause were heard and given as they applauded the girl’s words. Estie and Albie both grinned as they praised Ditty.

“Good job, my girl!” Albie exclaimed with a wide, supportive smile.

“Très bon, bébé!” Very good, baby! Estie hyped up Ditty as he clapped his hands.

Ditty looked around her and grinned, her little hands now clapping as she clapped for herself.

Yeah… she could get used to this. Maybe her meekness will grow and she’ll become a confident girl like her mother and grandmother were.

All she needed was to be provided with endless support. This was what Esteban and Albertine Ocon were here for.

#formula one dad #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #f1 fic #formula one imagine #esteban ocon imagine #esteban ocon #esteban ocon fanfiction #esteban ocon fluff #esteban ocon fic #esteban ocon x reader #formula one au #f1 fanfic #formula one smau #formula one #formula 1

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thisliminalspacedaydreams · 9 months

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Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Hello!

I’m relatively unknown in the fanfiction world which is great, but I’ve got some friends who are known, and I’ve got things to say, from an outsider perspective.

I’m a writer, but I’m also a reader. I participate in the fandom in the way I know how, which is through writing stories.

Here’s what fandom should be. It’s a village, called Fandom, and people all interact in the village in some way. Write, Art, Ideas, Comments, Reblogs, Kudos, Podfics, Bookbinding, Etc etc etc. It’s a Smurf village, because currency doesn’t exist, and everyone does what they can for the community to thrive, for fucking free. They offer gifts, and encouragement, and once a week we all gather round in the center of the village and scream about it in a very unhealthy way. Some people are more active than others, some like to be known, some prefer to remain anonymous, some watch from the sidelines and everything is done with care and a warm heart between our teeth.

There are pockets of that, which, great.

Here’s what fandom is, sometimes.

1/People elevating others to the point of God, sometimes dragging other writers down (for no reason, no one asked to be rated as the best fic writer of all time) to make a point. What is the point? Is there one?

2/People harassing writers for more things. Write an epilogue, write another chapter, write this and that. Writers aren’t your own personal AI machine to make what you want to write. A lot is blamed on age, and perhaps there is an element to it, but I believe it’s just decency. An 18 years old kid is capable of making sensible decisions, just like a 24 years old, just like a 14 years old. Your age doesn’t give you a passe-droit to be a dick to people you admire (!!!???!)

3/I won’t even touch on the subject of hate reading because that’s just straight up insanity.

But it’s just… hate and tantrums and anger breeds more hate and tantrums and anger. There isn’t a virtuous way out of that, and I’d love for people to…just, cater to a more positive experience for everyone.

When your fingers are typing rot on your computer, you are venomizing everything that it touches: the people who will read it AND the people who will respond to it.

So far, from what I have seen, this behaviour leads to only one thing: depressed writers/artists/etc who stop writing/drawing/etc, or pull their work, or take breaks, or retreat from the limelight because it is too much.

You are pushing too much.

Enthusiasm is wonderful. It’s a powerful tool and should be used, everyone on this fandom is posting because we looked at The Thing and thought, “yeah.” No one in the history of the world (I hope) has posted after thinking “that is straight up shit and I hate it with a passion.”

Enthusiasm does need to be curated in a healthy way. I understand that Fandom is for fans, but it is also by fans. No one here is better, everyone here is different.

Some writers have a voice that resonate with more people, or stories that resonate with more people, and that is perfectly fine, but, once again for the people in the back, do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

In what universe, in what galaxy do you believe complaining about someone’s work will make them go “oh right, nevermind all the work I put into this thing I love, let me just do the thing a random stranger is asking me to do.”

Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Maybe I sound like bitch, but by god, the shit I’ve heard from my “popular” friends the past few months is absolutely mad. Mad, people.

You are normal people, and SO ARE THEY.

They have lives and interests and they are people. Treat them as such.

Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, I hope everyone enjoys Le Mange Dieu et le Dévoreur de Mondes, which we wrote and enjoyed writing, and which does not mean other writers weren't doing their own thing and writing other stuff in the meantime, and I HOPE we can all start to have some fucking respect for the people who spend hoursdaysweeksmonths pouring over a project and posting it for fucking free, all at once, so it’s not stressful for the reader. YOU.

Because against all fucking odds, we actually care about our readers. When you’re being nice.

Thank you and good day from a Fandom Elder.

#fanfiction #fanficwriter #marauders #fandom #MDDM #jegulus fic #marauders fandom #let's be cool yeah?

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kilfeur · 2 months

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Beem m'a fait de la peine, tout ce qu'il voulait, était partagé sa vision de l'art et tout ce qu'il a eu ce soit des plaintes que des démons finissent à l'hosto. A part Silvia, les autres démons ont plus prêté d'attention aux rumeurs concernant ces oeuvres que l'oeuvre elle même. A tel point que même ses parents lui ont interdit de dessiner à nouveau et qu'il a été viré de l'industrie de l'art. Finissant même par détruire son matériel perdant l'envie de dessiner, le passage où il détruit son matériel est le plus triste. Car moi aussi je dessine et si un jour je n'aurai plus mon matériel, j'en pleurerai pour plusieurs semaines. C'est pour ça que je suis contente que Beem puisse enfin exprimer sa vision de l'art sans se soucier des conséquences avec Iruma et Silvia car justement ils l'encouragent dans cette voie

I felt sorry for Beem, all he wanted to do was share his vision of art and all he got were complaints about demons ending up in hospital. Apart from Silvia, the other demons paid more attention to the rumors about these works than to the work itself. So much so that even his parents forbid him to draw again and he's kicked out of the art industry. He even ended up destroying his equipment, losing the desire to draw, and the part where he destroys his equipment is the saddest. Because I draw too, and if one day I don't have my material, I'll be crying for weeks. That's why I'm glad Beem can finally express his vision of art without worrying about the consequences with Iruma and Silvia, because they're encouraging him to do just that.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #mairimashita manga #m!ik #m!ik spoilers #beem r. judain #suzuki iruma #silvia sabnock

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wheresmypencil · 4 months

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Hi there!

Well, I've been a bit away from the social media lately, and for good reason, I've got a lot of not-so-happy stuff going on in my life right now. Still, I wanted to do a little visual recap of this year, to remind myself that despite these chaotic last few months, it was still a great year artistically speaking. I've had the opportunity to draw lots of things I like, to develop my style even further, to have fun testing out lots of new techniques, and the chance to see more and more of you supporting my work. Because when times are tough, your encouragement and kind words are my beacon in the night, and remind me that I'm lucky enough to have realized my childhood dream of making a living from my art, and that means so much to me. So, as always, a big thank you!💖

Coucou vous !

Bon, j’ai été un peu absente des réseaux ces derniers temps, et pour cause, il se passe pleins de trucs pas très joyeux dans ma vie en ce moment. Je tenais quand même à faire un petit recap visuel de cette année, pour me rappeler que malgré ces derniers mois chaotiques, c’était quand même une chouette année artistiquement parlant. J’ai eu l’occasion de dessiner plein de choses que j’aime, de développer encore plus mon style, de m’amuser en testant plein de nouvelles techniques, et la chance de vous voir de plus en plus nombreux à soutenir mon travail. Parce que quand les temps sont durs, vos encouragement et vos petits mots doux sont mon phare dans la nuit, et me rappellent que j’ai la chance d’avoir réalisé mon rêve d’enfant, celui de vivre de mon art, et ça c’est pas rien. Alors comme toujours, un grand merci.💖

#artists on tumblr #illustration #small business #art vs artist

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voluxpa · 1 month

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-- ANGUS -- déesse des étoiles et des constellations; tenue rehaussée de bijoux, stature royale. invoquée le plus souvent pour retrouver son chemin lorsqu'on est perdu dans la nuit. animal totem : le poisson-phare

crédit icons : LUX, crédit idée : GAZAL. nb; cette déesse est une invention sortie d'une imagination fertile et incroyable. je ne peux que vous encourager à zieuter ses pl sur le serment de l'encre que je vous joins en commentaires.

#set icons #gold icons #blue icons #250x250 #goddess of the stars #gold aesthetic #night aesthetic #stars aesthetic #icons #icon

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mare-avatars · 3 months

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Quand je vois tous ces forums forums 'pour public mature et averti' qui ne sont pourtant que "interdit aux -16ans", j'ai VRAIMENT envie de secouer des gens.

On le sait que c'est pour pouvoir poster vos publicités sans balise [hide] sur PRD et dans le chan général de serveurs de pub, mais damn ça ne vous gêne pas de potentiellement jouer des trucs sensibles avec des mineurs.es juste pour avoir de la visibilité ? Non parce que news flash de vieille : à 16 ans on est ni mature, ni averti.e, on pense l'être mais on est ultra influençable et impressionnable.

A mesure que la population rpgique prend de l'âge, il va vraiment falloir qu'on trouve un moyen de protéger les jeunes. C'est pas sain ou normal de jouer des ships tourmentés ++ avec un age-gap de 11 ans entre les personnes de chaque côté de l'écran, surtout quand le.a plus jeune a vu ses années lycées/fac impactées par la pandémie et le.a plus vieux se souvient du passage à l'euro. J'vais pas parler de grooming ou de manipulation, mais juste rappeler qu'il y a une différence monstrueuse de vécu et de recul. Evidemment que c'est à gérer au cas par cas et que j'ai des potes rpgique en début de vingtaine... Evidemment aussi que c'est pas avec elleux que j'écris mes trucs les plus sombres.

Les trentenaires-ou-presque, on a tous vécu des situations louches dans le rpg, j'crois que c'est un peu notre devoir de veiller sur celleux qui débarquent maintenant et n'ont pas nos expériences traumatiques pour savoir se méfier...

Dans la même veine, il va aussi falloir qu'on trouve une façon de distinguer les forums +18 qui le sont parce qu'ils traitent de q* et ceux qui sont +18 parce que la communauté a conscience des sujets et des tw abordés et ne veut pas interagir avec des ENFANTS. Oui, un adolescent est un enfant. Non, pas moyen de contourner, vous sonnez juste comme Jean-Kylian, 23 ans qui vient en Twingo tunée pour chercher sa copine 'mature pour son âge' sur le parking du collège. C'est glauque.

*aucun mal à être sur un forum olé olé, il n'y a pas de jugement, ce sont juste deux communautés différentes qui n'ont pas besoin d'être toujours foutues dans le même panier.

Fin bref, j'arrête de /rant/, j'vous encourage juste à vous interroger sur les priorités morales des gens qui ont des forums darkos mais qui laissent la porte ouverte aux enfants. On se sait et on souffle un peu.

#rpg #forum rpg #forumactif #rpg francophone #rpg français #rpg fr #les bonnes pratiques rpg

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coolvieilledentelle · 22 days

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Couleur orange....

La couleur orange est souvent associée à des émotions et des concepts tels que l'optimisme, la joie, la chaleur, la vitalité et la créativité. Elle est également considérée comme une couleur stimulante qui peut améliorer l'humeur et la motivation. Dans certains contextes, l'orange peut également symboliser l'aventure, l'excentricité et la non-conformité.

En psychologie des couleurs, l'orange est considérée comme une couleur qui peut équilibrer les émotions et les pensées, en stimulant les sentiments de sécurité et d'appartenance tout en encourageant la curiosité et l'exploration.

En résumé, la signification de la couleur orange dépend de son contexte d'utilisation, mais en général elle est souvent associée à des émotions positives et à une sensation de vitalité et d'énergie.

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fyodorloveclub · 1 year

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au calme clair de lune triste et beau

pairing: paul verlaine x reader

cw: vaginal sex, cunnilingus, fem pet names, creampie, french people

notes: first verlaine fic yay! its very fluffy and sweet bc i needed verlaine to cosplay being a nice person ♡ huge thank you to @amythedemisimp for helping me with the tiny bit of french so i didnt look like a complete idiot ♡♡ much love

wc: 2k

“Mmm, good morning, darling,” Verlaine mumbled into your hair as he felt you stir next to him.

You barely heard him, brain still foggy from only just opening your eyes, but smiled as he wrapped his long arms tighter around your waist. He snaked his hands under the baggy t-shirt you were wearing to press his warm hands against your skin, making you giggle. You intertwined your fingers with his that were resting on your stomach pulling him even closer to you. Nothing ever made you feel safer and more at peace than when you were wrapped in Verlaine’s arms, especially on lazy mornings like this.

It was the weekend, and you had no idea what time it was, could only see the growing sunlight filtering in through the curtains of the large bay window, and the snores of your cat still curled up in his bed in the corner of the room. The thick comforter draped over you was all tangled up around the two of you as a remnant of Verlaine’s slightly violent sleeping habits, and you laughed quietly to yourself as you remember being woken up at least twice by clumsy flopping and kicking and the incoherent conversations he had with himself in his sleep.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, voice deep and scratchy. Though he sounds accusatory, you could feel his toothy smile against the back of your neck as he snuggled closer to you.

“Oh, nothing,” you teased. “Just the 30 minute long argument you seemed to be having with Chuuya in your sleep last night. Brotherly love at its finest.”

“Oh, really? What were we fighting about?”

“I'm not really sure, I think he was asking for your approval to propose to Dazai, and you were so not on board.” Verlaine chuckled. “There were plenty of slurred exclamations of ‘Chuuya, you idiot!’ and intense groaning.”

“Definitely sounds like how that would go down.”

You felt the deep, comforting grumble of his chest as he laughed, and thought about how much you wished you could freeze this moment and live in it forever. The warmth radiating from his skin and the way his body melded perfectly against yours, all in the hushed quiet of a morning with no alarms or schedules to meet.

Verlaine tugged on your waist a bit as a signal to look at him, and you flopped over on your side to gaze dreamily into his silvery-blue eyes.

“Hi, pretty,” he whispered, a lopsided smile spreading across his face. You blushed and smiled back, somehow still flustered at his flirting after all this time.

He rested a hand on your bare hip as he slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, and you sighed contentedly into it. You reached up to gently run your hands through his silky, long blonde hair that you only ever got to see down at night. It started out as a gentle kiss, but your involuntary groans as his familiar lips moved against yours encouraged Verlaine, dipping his tongue into your mouth. He looked at you sideways when you groaned again but pulled back, wrinkling your nose.

“I love you, but your morning breath tastes pretty bad,” you giggled, making him roll his eyes.

“Guess I’ll have to kiss somewhere else, then,” he said with a tone of feigned defeat.

Before your still-foggy head could process what he said, Verlaine was all of a sudden flipping you onto your back and snaking between your legs, spreading them and kissing at the soft skin of your inner thighs. All you did was smile and let your head fall back against the pillow.

“No protest?” he asked, words muffled.

“None at all.”

Verlaine happily went back to working on your thighs, biting softly as he worked his way upward. Once he got where he wanted to be he made eye contact with you before slowly shimmying your panties down your legs, leaving you naked from the waist down. Placing your legs over his shoulders for better access, you moaned in anticipation of what was to come.

Now he was pressing light kisses to your outer lips, running his tongue up and down your slit. He used two fingers to spread you open, staring mesmerized for just a moment at your quickly moistening pussy. Just the sight of Verlaine buried in between your legs, mouth on you alone was enough to get you dripping. His arms wrapped around your thighs, hands coming to rest on your pelvis before leaning further in, using his tongue to gather up some of the slick that had already begun trickling out of you. You could feel the mmmmm he grumbled against your pussy as he tasted you.

Finally, he dipped his tongue inside you, pulling a deep moan from your throat as he flicked his tongue expertly against your clit, his hot mouth feeling heavenly against your already pulsing pussy.

“Oh, god, Paul,” you whined.

He smiled before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking as he continued to circle his tongue around it, reminding you that he knew your body better than anyone else. Verlaine knew exactly how to touch you and push your buttons to have you melting in his hands, and he happily put this knowledge to good use.

He soon dipped his head lower to lap up more of your juices, while dragging his tongue through your folds. Verlaine tapped your thigh to get you to look him in the eyes before he slid his tongue into your hole, pleased with the gasps and moans tumbling out of your mouth. He would’ve smirked if his mouth weren’t full of your pussy. Then it’s Verlaine who’s gasping as your hands found their way into his hair and tug, fingernails scratching at his scalp. Desperate to ride his tongue, he had to hold down your hips as you involuntarily thrusted into his mouth.

Unwrapping one of his arms from your legs so he could palm himself through his boxers, Verlaine shivered at the friction against his growing erection. His tongue pumped in, out, and around your hole as he pulled his cock out and circled his fist around it.

“P-Paul,” you gasped. He looked up at you, eyes dark and sultry and face covered in saliva and slick. “Make love to me, please.”

Verlaine lifted his mouth off of you before nodding wordlessly, crawling from between your legs to hover over you. All of your labored breaths were swallowed as he once again pressed his lips against yours, melding your mouths together.

“You like tasting yourself?” he asked. All you did was kiss him back hungrily.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongue and drool as your hands clumsily snaked down his body to tug at the waistband of his boxers, signaling him to pull away so he could undress. You were both fully naked now, your old sleep shirt having been thrown off a while ago, and you relished in the intimacy of the moment. The intimacy of knowing exactly how to make your lover feel good and doing exactly that, of showing love unabashedly, fully exposed and on display for each other. You trusted Verlaine with your entire being.

Not many words were needed as you could read each other’s minds and bodies better than your favorite books, and it felt only natural as he positioned the two of you, pestering you regularly over if you were comfortable or not.

Verlaine peppered sweet kisses all over your face as he hovered over you, and you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Ready, ma chérie?” he asked in his typical sultry, sexy voice. You bit your lip and smiled in response.

He leaned back so he run his cock through your folds to gather some slick, making you cry out as the tip nudged your swollen clit. Then he was lining himself up with your hole before slowly pushing in. Your breath hitched as you struggled to stretch around his thick length, eyes screwed shut.

“Doing so, so good for me, beautiful,” Verlaine whispered as encouragement, each word punctuated with a chaste kiss to your lips, cheeks, or forehead.

Your legs came to wrap tightly around his thin waist as he bottomed out, and you couldn’t help the cries you let out. He stayed still for a moment, balls resting heavily against your ass, as you adjusted your hips to try and encourage the tight ring of muscle to relax. Verlaine was always so patient with you, so sweet and accommodating, and it made your heart swell.

Once you gave him a silent nod and smile of approval, he hiked your legs further up his waist before slowly pulling back out, eyes focused on you and your expression the whole time. Pulling all the way out so only the tip was still inside, he thrusted back into you with a little more speed, prompting a high-pitched moan from you. The feeling of being completely filled by your lover was so comforting yet so intoxicating, and you clenched hard around his length.

“More!” you groaned.

“Of course.”

Verlaine’s lips attached to your neck and sucked at the sensitive skin underneath your jaw as he slowly began to build up a rhythm, the wet friction of his thrusts sending pleasure coursing through your veins with every movement.

He held your body close to his as he fucked you and cherished the moment. All of his senses were on fire: the sounds and smells of sex and sweat, the lingering taste of your pussy, and the sight of you clinging onto him as you cried out his name.

“Ma p’tite minette,” he whispered into your ear, French accent thick. “Je t'aime.”

My little kitten. You whined at the words, returning a garbled je t’aime back to him while he pumped his cock in and out of you.

You could tell Verlaine was getting close to cumming as you felt his cock throb inside you, and your suspicions were confirmed as his pace increased.

“Inside, please,” you groaned, and he knew exactly what you meant.

His hand slithered between your bodies and used his slim fingers to rub circles over your throbbing, neglected clit. You immediately cried out at the touch, hips bucking wildly into the touch as your senses were overwhelmed. It didn’t take long for you to cum, whines, screams, and cries of his name all falling past your lips as your orgasm spread from your core to your fingers and toes.

The cream that had gathered on his cock amplified the dirty squelching noises in the room, and Verlaine was grunting and fucking into you hard as he chased his own high. You tensed the walls of your pussy tight around his cock to encourage him, and soon he was moaning as he spilled his hot cum inside you, eyes screwed shut as he was overtaken by his own orgasm.

Verlaine pulled out of you slowly, falling down next to you on the bed as you both attempted to catch your breath. Upset at the distance, you flopped back over, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face into his chest. He chuckled as he caught you, holding you close while he ran his fingertips softly up and down your back.

The light shining through the window was brighter now, and you could hear birds chirping from outside. Everything was still, everything was peaceful, and you felt safe being held tight by your lover.

#verlaine x reader #bsd verlaine #paul verlaine #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #flora’s fics

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onlyonetifosi · 9 months

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Behind the camera: chapter 1

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

It was a warm summer afternoon in the small town of Monte Carlo, Monaco, where the Leclerc family resided. Yn and Charles, just three years old, were playing in their backyard, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite being twins, Yn and Charles had their distinct personalities and looks, yet they shared an unbreakable bond

"Charles, catch me if you can!" Yn giggled, running around the garden, her little feet barely keeping up with her enthusiasm

"Attends, Yn! I'm coming!" Charles called back, his eyes shining with excitement as he chased after his sister

Their playtime was always filled with joy and mischief, and today was no exception. Their older brother, Lorenzo, joined in the fun

"Lorenzo, regarde! Look at me!" Yn shouted as she tried to perform a somersault. "Je peux le faire! I can do it!"

Lorenzo clapped his hands, "Wow, Yn! That was great!"

Charles, feeling a little competitive, decided to show off too. "Watch this! Je vais faire un saut en hauteur! I'm going to do a high jump!"

Yn and Lorenzo watched in awe as Charles jumped, trying to touch the lowest branch of a nearby tree. He didn't quite reach it, but his attempt was still impressive.

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In the following weeks, Yn attended her ballet classes with enthusiasm, and her love for dancing only grew. Charles, on the other hand, developed an interest in racing from a young age. Hervé, a racing enthusiast himself, couldn't be happier to see his son's passion for speed and cars. He gifted Charles a small toy race car, which quickly became his most treasured possession

"Maman, look what I can do!" Yn twirled around clumsily, trying her best to imitate the graceful movements she had seen on TV. Her parents smiled lovingly, encouraging her tiny attempt at ballet

"Très bien, ma chérie! You're doing great," her mother praised, clapping her hands. "You'll be a wonderful little ballerina!"

"Charles, you should try too!" Yn beamed, hoping her brother would join in her enthusiasm for ballet.

Charles laughed and shook his head. "No, no, Yn. I want to be a race car driver like Papa! Vroom vroom!" He pretended to steer an imaginary car, and Lorenzo enthusiastically joined in the play

Pascale and Hervé watched their daughter with pride, celebrating every little step she took in her ballet journey. However, Yn's clumsiness soon caught the attention of the other girls in her ballet class, who began to tease and make fun of her

"Regardez-la, elle danse comme un éléphant maladroit! (Look at her, she dances like a clumsy elephant!)" one of the girls mocked, causing the others to giggle.

Yn felt her enthusiasm waning, her heart heavy with sadness. She couldn't understand why the other girls were mean to her, but she was determined not to let their words discourage her.

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As the twins grew older, they started kindergarten, and Yn was excited to embark on this new adventure with her brother. However, things didn't go as smoothly as she had hoped. Charles, being the more outgoing and confident of the two, quickly made friends with the other children, while Yn struggled to connect with her peers

One day, after a particularly challenging day at school, Yn came home feeling downcast. She sat at the kitchen table with her parents, sharing her feelings

"Maman, Papa, pourquoi est-ce que Charles a toujours des amis, et moi, je n'en ai pas?" (Mom, Dad, why does Charles always have friends, and I don't?) Yn asked tearfully

Her parents exchanged understanding glances, and her father pulled her into a comforting hug. "Ne t'inquiète pas, ma chérie. Les amis viendront avec le temps. Tu es spéciale, tout comme ton frère." (Don't worry, my dear. Friends will come with time. You're special, just like your brother)

Yn nodded, trying to hold back her tears. She wished she could be as confident and popular as Charles, but it seemed like an impossible task

Months passed, and Yn tried her best to keep her feelings buried, not wanting to upset her brother or their parents. But one day, the weight of it all became too much to bear. Unable to hold back any longer, Yn confronted Charles during their walk home from school

"Charles, tu ne comprends pas. C'est difficile pour moi. Les autres se moquent de moi et je n'ai pas d'amis" she finally confessed, her voice quivering with emotion. (Charles, you don't understand. It's hard for me. The others make fun of me, and I have no friends)

Charles stopped in his tracks, finally seeing the pain in his sister's eyes that he had been blind to for so long "Je suis désolé, Yn. Je ne savais pas) he said, feeling regretful (I'm sorry, Yn. I didn't know)

They sat down on a nearby bench, and Yn poured her heart out to Charles about the loneliness she had been enduring. Charles listened attentively, his heart aching for his sister. He realized how selfish he had been, caught up in his own excitement without noticing the pain she was going through.

"Je suis vraiment désolé, Yn. Je ne voulais pas te faire du mal. Je serai là pour toi, quoi qu'il arrive" Charles said, his eyes filled with sincerity. (I'm truly sorry, Yn. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be there for you, no matter what happens)

Tears welled up in Yn's eyes as she hugged her brother tightly “Merci, Charles. Je t'aime” she whispered, feeling a rush of relief (Thank you, Charles. I love you)

From that day on, Charles made a conscious effort to include Yn in his circle of friends, and the two became inseparable. Yn also found solace in pursuing other hobbies and interests, such as drawing and storytelling, where her creativity and uniqueness were celebrated.

Their relationship grew stronger as they navigated through childhood together. Their parents often marveled at how inseparable they were, and even though they had their fair share of fights, their bond only deepened with time.

#behind the camera fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #f1 drivers x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f2 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfiction #arthur leclerc

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