#Jolie-Laide
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Binge watched the first 2 seasons of The Bear and I can't believe I find that chinless Snoopy's yellow bird friend looking ass funny faced White man hot
#the bear#jeremy allen white#I think I have a thing for white men with funny faces#like- I'm immune to conventionally attractive white men#but I like the joli-laid type like JAW#Will Poulter too - and guess what? HE'S IN THE SHOW TOO 💀#papi watch
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“Some singers belt and some singers murmur, but Serge Gainsbourg taught the world the value of heavy breathing. An icon of French debauchery in the ‘60s, the late Gainsbourg devoted a noble career to lounge lizard glitz. He couldn’t really sing, but he could both huff and puff and he cast a spell over pop music … Vive le sleaze.” / From the May 1997 issue of Details magazine / In Memoriam: Serge Gainsbourg (né Lucien Ginsburg, 2 April 1928 – 2 March 1991), the raffish and dissipated dirty mouth (and dirty mind) of Gallic popular culture, died on this day. Pictured: French pop’s Marquis de Sade as the world’s least likely cowboy.
#serge gainsbourg#french pop#vive le sleaze#lobotomy room#chanson#chanteur#french popular culture#joli laid#visionary#renaissance man#role model#debauched#decadence
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bestie it was the most streamed show on the web for weeks
#pirate poll#ofmd#also you called taika waititi ugly what is the matter with you#I like seb stan too but his face is ... jolie laide#also sorry for not defending rhys's honor here#that was wrong of me
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Eleanor Parker attends the Golden Globes, 1970.
#in the most beautiful mum print... if we can have some floral discourse#chrysanthemums and spider mums are incredibly underrated and underutilized in art prints fashion etc.#in terms of strange alien looking flowers mums are really not that crazy. they’re no passion flower.#but aesthetically they straddle the line of that and traditional bouquet fodder you’re used to seeing in design.#i find them equally lovely and offputting. ugly pretty. the french jolie laide. creepy cute. whatever#eleanor parker#1970#1970s#florals#chrysanthemum#spider mums#flowers#print#fave fashion#mums
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my terribly ambivalent nature. my malcontent demeanour
#je déteste être une laide fille . mais les cheveux longs et les jolis vêtements et cetera me rendent bouleversée parce que c’est comme ça#une impasse!!!! this is not about the outfit btw i did find something to wear#thoughts
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hot people do not care about cable management. and the hot people who do need to recenter themselves and use their allure for the greater good
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The past couple weeks have been pretty intense, emotionally. Good, bad, weird, all three, but intense all ‘round.
The Monday before last, E. shared a post of J.L.’s on Facebook & I had to go thru the thing I’ve gone thru so many times already: Do I tell her he abused me & risk her disbelief & the loss of our friendship? Or do I say nothing & just feel super super gross forever & probably lose the friendship anyway because I’ll feel too uncomfortable hanging out with her while knowing she’s friendly with him? I decided to tell her, and ultimately she responded the way I’d hoped she would, but I was up half the night feeling nauseous & panicky. This is like the fourth or fifth time I’ve had to go through this re: J.L. Which, I guess, is not shocking; he’s a well-known guy in the Milwaukee DIY/arts scene. So yeah, not shocking, but it still sucks that I have to keep going thru this.
In the wee hours of that Monday night/Tuesday morning, just before I finally fell asleep, was the blood moon/eclipse. & when I woke a few hours later I was bleeding. That day was the midterm elections & I wanted to make a joke about I’ve got your red wave right here or something. Speaking of—boy, am I glad that the promised red wave did not happen.
That day, and for a few days after, I went thru a bout of mania the likes of which I haven’t seen in a while. There’s still a part of me that wants to fall back into the old self-destructive tendencies. Y’know, they get manic & wanna get stupid drunk about it, or fuck a stranger about it, & they get a little ornery that they can’t. But it is fortunate that, these days, I can sometimes harness my manic energy in more positive ways. I used this bout to get a bunch of housecleaning done, & work on my novella, & then... I was listening to Endless Possibility, the tribute to Jack Terricloth, & there were all these clips of him talking, & in one of them he said: It’s hard to live in the past, it’s hard to live in the future—we live absolutely in the moment. Now is the only time. Do not ever wait. The only answer is yes. & hearing that spurred me into beginning to put the finishing touches on the revised & updated edition of What We Talk About When We Talk About Punk.
Saturday the 12th we celebrated D.’s 11th birthday. His actual birthday was the 13th, but we decided to celebrate with my parents that night, at my mom’s studio, so we could watch the holiday parade. My mom saw my new haircut for the first time. She’d seen me a couple times already since I cut it, but I’d hidden it with a scarf or hat because I knew she’d make a comment & I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. Sure enough, when she saw it, she visibly winced, then said: “Oh, Jess, really? I keep thinking you’ll grow out of doing that kind of thing.” My response was: “I keep thinking you’ll get used to me doing this kind of thing.” Then she said: “I mean, it’s your hair, you can do whatever you want, but you look so pretty with normal hair.” I just shrugged, cuz we’ve had this ‘discussion’ (& other, similar ones) approximately 5000 times in the past 28 years & she doesn’t get that I’m not trying to be pretty. I mean, yes, I like to feel pretty sometimes, but a. I certainly don’t want to be pretty in a conventional way, and b. overall, I am not going for pretty. I’m going for jolie-laide. I don’t want to be merely pretty, I want to be hot & a little intimidating.
I don’t know. She & I have been having some problems lately, in general, & they’re all the same troublesome dynamic we’ve always had. I love her but sometimes her comments & passive-aggressiveness just exhaust me.
The next day, between cooking, reading, & playing with the kiddos, I had several moments of professional jealousy/envy. I got really down about the trajectory of my career vs. other people’s careers & felt too sad about it to work on my novella that day (though I did work on a prose poem about why I wasn’t working on my novella).
But, the very next evening, I attended Library of America’s (virtual) lecture & Q&A with Todd Tietchen & Jean-Christophe Cloutier, the editor & translator, respectively, of LOA’s book The Unknown Kerouac. It helped me get past feeling sorry for myself. For many reasons, not the least of which was their mention of Jack writing: I hope it’s true that a man can die, and not only live in others, but give them life. Which in turn made me think of Sarah Manguso’s essay about the true purpose of being a serious writer: If people read your work and, as a result, choose life, then you are doing your job. It made my envy of others’ successes seem petty, made me remember— My purpose is not to receive accolades, my purpose is to write & to get my work out there so that the people who need it can find it, & it can give them life.
So, after the Q&A ended, I got back to work on my memory project. (Kerouac considered his entire oeuvre a memory project, a la Proust, & I see myself/my work in that same lineage.)
Thursday, I went to the Racine Art Museum with my mom. We did that last year near her birthday, too, and it was so nice that it has become our new tradition. I always love going to RAM; I feel so blessed that we have such a great art museum in this mid-sized midwest town. The new exhibits that have been added since I went there back in August are phenomenal. & the zodiac-themed virtual community art show my piece is part of? They had an iPad mounted on the wall, scrolling thru all the pieces in the show, & it was really fucking cool to see mine there. I know it was only on a small screen, but still. To see my art in a real fucking art museum? Kinda mind-blowing.
In other news:
Some of my nearest & dearest have been going thru some health scares. (Thankfully, I now know for sure that one of them was just that—a scare.) Little C. has been relentlessly moody, & I guess I’ve been pretty moody, too. I’ve been horny a lot & also sad a lot.
I’ve got a new crush. I know nothing can, or will, ever come of it, but I don’t mind so much. Crush energy, much like mania, is something I’ve learned to harness in more positive ways, most of the time. I don’t need to pursue my crush, I don’t need to pine, I can make them my muse & channel the energy into writing & art. & I’ve been deep in nostalgia—what else is new—longing for a hundred thousand people, places, moments from my past. Currently, I’m missing the winter I worked in a flower shop in Chicago, & the winter I ice skated once a week in downtown Milwaukee. But, at least nostalgia is another energy I can channel into art. My whole life is a memory project.
#ashtrayfloors#dear livejournal#these days#abuse mention#menstruation#voting#mania#jack terricloth#whatever mom#jolie laide#jack kerouac#sarah manguso#writing#inspiration#jack t & jack k being my biggest inspirations lately? it's more likely than you think!#racine art museum#moodiness#crushes#nostalgia#memory babe
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that striking girl keeps sitting opposite me in the seminar... must she continue to torment me with her profile
#jolie laide#GOD her nose is so excellent#supposed to be thinking grave and worthwhile thoughts about the paper of the day#instead of being distracted by deeply frivolous asides#sadly she is straight
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Jolie Laide
Jolie Laide Pinot Gris Sonoma, USA 2022 Pinot Gris
Jolie Laide translates to unconventionally beautiful and their wines are exactly that.
In this Pinot Gris, the grapes are picked early and foot trodden before short maceration. Fermentation takes place with native yeasts and the naturally high acid in the fruit sourced from sustainable growers allows for very little SO2 to be added.
A pink hue with a touch of spice, it is highly perfumed. On the palate it has a chalky texture with fresh acidity.
Tasting notes: bergamot, peach, tarragon, orange blossom
Pairing: spicy food, cured meats, pork
#jolie laide#pinot gris#sonoma county#usa#2022#bergamot#peach#perfume#tarragon#orange blossom#spicy food#cured meat#pork#chalk#high acidity
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“Rumpled, tattered, unkempt, hirsute, Smith defies the rules of femininity. Soulful, haggard and emaciated yet raffish, swaggering and seductive, she is mad saint, ephebe, dandy and troubadour, a complex woman alone and outward bound for culture war.” Camille Paglia on Patti Smith.
Born on this day: fierce high priestess of punk poetry, beatnik earth mother, shamanistic visionary, musician, playwright, role model, personification of jolie laide androgyny and the woman Salvador Dali once likened to “a gothic crow” – Patti Smith (Patricia Lee Smith, 30 December 1946). No one asked, but my favourite Patti Smith song is "Pissing in a River” (followed by “Dancing Barefoot”). Pictured: portrait by Lynn Goldsmith.
#patti smith#lynn goldsmith#camille paglia#beatnik#punk poetess#punk poetry#earth mother#visionary#punk#punk rock#jolie laide#lobotomy room#androgynous#art rock#role model#filth elder#high priestess of punk
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It's time for Beginnings, the podcast where writer and performer Andy Beckerman talks to the comedians, writers, filmmakers and musicians he admires about their earliest creative experiences and the numerous ways in which a creative life can unfold.
On today's episode, I talk to musician Nina Nastasia. Originally from Los Angeles, CA, Nina began writing songs in 1993 but initially had no real ambitions to be a professional musician. She ended up recording many of those songs with Steve Albini, and they became her debut album Dogs, which was released in 2000. Albini sent the record to John Peel, who championed it on his radio show, and Nina began to garner both fans and acclaim. Since then, she's recorded and released seven albums on labels like Touch and Go and Fat Cat Records, and her latest project, Jolie Laide, is a collaboration with musician Jeff MacLeod, and their self-titled debut album was just released on Oscar St. Records!
I'm on Twitter here and you can get the show with:
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Hello there. I love your work. I was wondering if you could write one where baby sainz is pregnant with charles and alexandra baby.
Oh my god. This was so hard to write. I hope I did an okay-ish job. My requests are always open! Enjoy reading! -XoXo
The Pregnancy
Amira’s heart raced as she stared at the positive pregnancy test. She was only 21, and her relationship with Alex and Charles was still in its early stages—just five months old. How could this be happening? Tears streamed down her face as she sat on the toilet seat, overwhelmed by the news.
Unaware of her distress, the apartment door swung open. “Dove, we’re back home!” Alex’s voice echoed through the hallway. She exchanged a puzzled glance with Charles when they received no response. Concerned, they called out to her again. “Jolie fille? Are you here?”
Then they heard it—the heartbreaking sniffles coming from the bathroom. Without hesitation, they rushed to the door. There, they found their beautiful Amira, tears staining her cheeks. “Oh my god, baby, what happened?” Alex and Charles approached her, their worry evident. They immediately ran to her, took her in their arms and whispers sweet nothings in french in her ear. "Tout va bien, mon amour" or "Je t'ai, bébé" was the things she heard. Sometimes Charles would even say "Niente può ferirti, amore mio".
Amira’s sobs subsided after what felt like an eternity. Charles cradled her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. “What’s wrong, bébé?” Alex asked once more. Instead of answering, Amira held up the positive test, her emotions laid bare.
She had mentally prepared herself for a difficult conversation—a potential breakup, perhaps. But what unfolded surprised her. Alex and Charles erupted in joy, hugging her tightly and peppering her cheeks with kisses. “Oh honey, you have no idea how happy you make us,” Alex exclaimed.
“You’re not mad at me?” Amira whispered, her voice trembling.
Charles grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Of course not, mon amour. After all, it takes three to make a baby.” His wink was playful, and Amira felt a rush of relief. She was no longer alone; she had her partners by her side. And in that moment, despite the unexpected circumstances, she felt a warmth that eclipsed any fear. What unfolded now was a nine moths journey.
Ah, the joys and challenges of pregnancy! Emotions running wild, cravings taking unexpected turns—Amira’s journey was far from ordinary. But nestled within those moments were the seeds of a beautiful story—a tale of love, anticipation, and shared dreams.
Charles and Alexandra, devoted partners, reveled in the miracle unfolding before them. Their princess, Amira, carried their future—a tiny life nestled within her. The princess treatment they bestowed upon her was more precious than any crown. They doted on her, their attentiveness unwavering.
Charles, ever the thoughtful one, brought home gifts—a tangible expression of his love for his three favorite people. Sometimes it was a soft blanket for cozy nights, a whimsical mobile for the nursery, or a book of bedtime stories to read aloud. Each gift held a promise: “We’re in this together.”
And Alex? Well, she took on a new role—the fashion curator for Amira. It was common knowledge that Amira Sainz was a stunning woman. But pregnancy transformed her—radiance multiplied a thousandfold. She floated through sunny days in pretty summer dresses, her baby bump a testament to life’s magic. Alex’s choices were impeccable, accentuating her glow. The two of them weren't able to look away from their pretty girl.
Their protectiveness knew no bounds. Amira wasn’t allowed to step out of a room without at least one of them by her side. Shared showers became intimate moments—her baby bump a delightful obstacle, yet they navigated it with care. The warmth of water, the closeness of skin—these were the memories etched into their hearts.
At night, they cocooned her. Alex half beneath her, Charles spooned against her back. Their hands rested on her belly, feeling the flutter of life within. They whispered promises to their unborn child, their love a lullaby. And if anyone dared approach their Amira, they wedged themselves between her and the world. No one touched their perfect girl without permission.
Amira’s pregnancy was a symphony of emotions, cravings, and shared laughter. She had the best of both worlds—the thrill of Formula 1 and the tenderness of love. As the days counted down, they dreamed of tiny fingers and sleepy smiles. And when the moment arrived—their baby’s first cry echoing through the room—they knew their lives had changed forever.
Three hearts beating as one—a family forged on racetracks and whispered promises. Amira, Charles, and Alex—their love story had just begun.
#formula 1#baby!sainz!sister#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x alexandra saint mleux x reader#formula 1 x reader
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I’ll take care of you | c.l
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
warnings: none :)
w/c: 0.7k
summary: You didn’t knew that men could be so gentle and careful with women after they’ve had sex, at least not before you me the sweet Ferrari driver charles leclerc.
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“That was… amazing.” You mumbled quietly, breathing still a bit uneven. The Ferrari driver chuckled, brushing his hair out of his face before he sat up, back now facing you.
Your legs were still shaking a bit, hair messy and a tiny bit sweaty, completely sprawled out over the soft cushions.
You turned your head and looked over to Charles, watching him standing up after putting his boxers and sweatpants on.
While he was in the bathroom, you slowly stood up and grabbed your clothes, collecting them all in your hands before you put them on the bed.
Right when you wanted to put your thong back on, you heard your one night stand entering the room again.
“Hey, why are you up? Get back into bed, mon amour.” He told you, hands already getting a hold of your hips since your legs were still shaking. You turned around and looked at the monaguesque, not understood why you should do that.
You furrowed your brows, “Shouldn’t I leave?”
He shook his head, “I mean, if you want to leave, then you can leave but not before I didn’t take care of you.” He said.
“You-”
“No discussion ma jolie, please lay down again.” Charles quietly demanded in a kindhearted tone.
You gulped and laid down onto the soft and probably rather expensive sheets again, looking up at him with a confused gaze.
Charles quickly noticed your facial expression, “Why do you look so confused mon amour?” Body already towering over you, hands spreading your shaking legs before he grabbed a wet washcloth.
You stared down at the washcloth, not understanding why he got that in his hand.
“For what do you need a wet washcloth?” He tilted his head as he heard your question, smile slowly forming on his lips.
“And why are you smiling now?”
After hearing that, his smile fell, facial expression now looking like he’s… disappointed? Why should he be disappointed?
Now it was your turn to tilt your head, basically asking him why he looks at you with those sad and slightly angry eyes.
Charles quickly went to work and cleaned your slightly sticky body with the small washcloth, being very careful while doing so.
After a few seconds of silence between the two of you, he spoke up,
“So that’s why you wanted to leave.” He mumbled, hands now putting your thong back on and then caressing your leg. “Not because you wanted, because you felt like you had to, right?” The Ferrari driver asked you, eyes now focused on your face.
You only furrowed your brows before you sat up, eyes not leaving his, “Well, I-I thought that you d-didn’t wanted to h-have me here anymore since y-you’ve already-” you briefly took a deep breath,
“used me.” You finished your statement in a quiet tone before you broke the eye contact between him and you.
Charles shook his head as you gulped, quickly coming closer to you.
“What? Used you? Do you mean as in… used your body?” He asked you, obviously not believing that you would actually think of something like that but on the other hand he also didn’t know how you’ve been treated in the past by… men.
You bit your lip while the monaguesque reached out to pull your barely covered body onto his almost naked lap, thumbs caressing your slightly cold thighs.
You nodded and his eyes immediately widened, “No má cherie, god no! Oh mon dieu.” Oh my god.
Charles eyes suddenly grew softer and softer by every comfortably second that went by, his hands gently glided up and down your thighs but didn’t went to high. He looked at you before he leaned forward and lovingly kissed your forehead,
“I don’t know that these disgusting men in the past did to you or said to you, but I am not like them, okay? I promise ma joulie.” Lips still lingering on your shivering skin,
“I’ll treat you like you deserved to be treated. With respect, kindness, tenderness and most importantly… love.” Charles whispered in a very gently tone before you put your arms around his shoulders, pulling him even closer.
“Okay… thank you.” You quietly answered as you intertwined your fingers with his soft hair.
He sighed, “No need to thank me, baby.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#aftercare#ferarri#f1 fandom#f1#f1 fluff#f1 2023#classic f1#f1 ferrari#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc ferrari#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader
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