#mon doudou
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QUONVERT [human version of Vulcan hand holds you]
SCREAM my love you are so funny mwah mwah mwah!!!
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can't wait for french speaking belgians to arrive and have beef with the french
#baghera will be saved since she's swiss#tbh i don't think there would really be that much but I'll be looking out for little comments where we hit each other <3#oh god i know it's only a thing from Mons but I hope that le Doudou will be mentioned#in Mons we have this cool tradition where we watch every year Saint Georges fighting the dragon#i just think it'd be neat if qsmp ever celebrated it. put etoiles against a powerful mob that we call dragon in an arena#and cheet as he tries to beat it up#there are several helping roles so the other players can take them and fight each other#Antoine can play one of the ladies that give Saint George his weapons#The other very cute option is having the eggs reenact the fight we have the kid version of it too after all#qsmp
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btw marauders/black brothers writers, instead of using a direct translation from eng to french for a petname, you would have a way better time if u look up actual french petnames!
for any language, for that matter. many have particular naming conventions (like russian!) and you will find some very lovely ones :D
some french examples:
ma puce - my flea ❤️😍😘
mon ange - my angel
mon loup - my wolf!
and it goes on! in general most french petnames are possessive (mon/ma = my) which is nice :] hope that is helpful!
#i am getting a little tired of seeing people just use random nouns haha#marauders#mwpp#ao3#rb to help a lost soul#theres also family ones that are diff#mon gros#loulou#coco#doudou
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@journalisticintegrity us 💖
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Ending it all very shortly
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Un soir, une femme demande à son mari qui essaie de dormir : - Chéri ? Comment préfères-tu que je t'appelle : mon doudou, mon sucre d'orge ou mon ange ? - Et toi, tu préfères que je t'appelle whisky, rhum ou vodka? La femme, étonnée, demande : - Pourquoi ces noms d'alcool ? - Parce que tu me saoule !
#Un soir#une femme demande à son mari qui essaie de dormir :#- Chéri ? Comment préfères-tu que je t'appelle : mon doudou#mon sucre d'orge ou mon ange ?#- Et toi#tu préfères que je t'appelle whisky#rhum ou vodka?#La femme#étonnée#demande :#- Pourquoi ces noms d'alcool ?#- Parce que tu me saoule !
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Une personne âgée d’une quarantaine d’années décède lors du combat dit Lumeçon - La DH/Les Sports+
Source: dhnet
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20 jours... 3 semaines demain.
J'ai finis les chocolats qu'il m'avait donné. Ils étaient délicieux, je les ai tous savouré avec plaisir.
J'ai commencé à écouter les vocaux qu'il m'avait envoyé. Ca fait mal de l'entendre comme ça, j'ai pris plusieurs pauses et j'ai seulement fini le premier.
J'ai fini par ranger les t-shirts qu'il m'avait laissé. J'ai failli les ressortir hier soir, mais au final j'étais tellement fatiguée que je me suis juste endormie devant mon ordinateur.
Je relis un peu nos conversations parfois, mais seulement les récentes, pas celles d'avant, de quand tout allait bien. Je pense que je suis pas encore prête pour revivre nos souvenirs heureux.
Je dors chaque nuit avec la dernière peluche qu'il m'a offerte. Elle est tellement douce, tellement cute, ça m'apaise un peu.
J'ai utilisé le V. qu'il avait acheté pour moi. J'essaie de me réhabituer à la sensation de plaisir sans l'associer à un souvenir négatif. C'est différent, seule, mais ca semble marcher.
J'ai perdu le poème calligraphié. Je sais plus si je l'ai jeté ou si je l'ai rangé quelque part. Mais je crois pas que ce soit grave. J'ai pas besoin de le retrouver.
J'ai mis l'argent dans une enveloppe, j'ose pas l'utiliser. J'ai un peu honte de me balader avec. J'ai l'impression de profiter.
Je pense à revendre certains des cadeaux, ceux que j'utilise pas. Je les ai mis dans une boite dans mon armoire pour l'instant. Peut-être que je les donnerai à ma sœur.
J'ai annoncé à une seule personne IRL que c'était fini. Ca m'a fait un pincement au coeur de dire "mon ex" à voix haute, c'était bizarre.
Je cherche où mettre son mot. Je dois trouver un cahier ou un classeur ou une pochette. Je devrais pas le garder afficher sur le mur comme ça.
Je sais pas si je renomme mon ours ou pas. Il a toujours eu 2 prénoms de base, peut-être que je vais juste garder l'autre du coup, même si je le trouve triste et un peu ridicule.
J'ai annoncé à Selkie qu'il y a eu "divorce." Bon, c'est une peluche et il a jamais rencontré son 'père' donc je pense qu'il s'en fiche, mais moi j'ai pleuré. Il m'a consolé.
J'alterne entre la playlist de rupture et la playlist d'amour, selon mon humeur. Les deux me donnent envie de pleurer, ceci dit. Et de crier aussi. Ca fait du bien et du mal à la fois. Bizarre.
Je recommence à passer du temps sous la douche. Des je revis nos dernières conversations dans ma tête, des fois je zone out juste. Mais c'est pas une bonne chose.
Je zone out et daydream de plus en plus souvent. Je me vois réexpliquer encore et encore pourquoi je pars, de toutes les manières possibles, avec plein de métaphores. Il ne comprend jamais.
J'ai fini d'enlever nos dates de partout. Même sur Steam, c'était le dernier car j'y vais jamais. J'ai gardé les screens ceci dit.
J'ai bloqué son numéro il y a quelques jours. A cause d'un pavé reçu littéralement 10 minutes avant un exam. Je suis trop stressée en ce moment pour gérer tout ça en parallèle.
Je dois avoir 7 ou 8 post en brouillon sur lui. Certains datant d'avant, des poèmes non finis que je peux pas supprimer. D'autres datent d'après, des pensées trop désordonnées pour être publiées.
J'ai repris la rédaction d'une vieille fanfic jamais postée. Elle me fait douloureusement penser à cette situation. La phrase phare : "aimer, ça ne suffit pas."
Je suis sur le même livre depuis 2 mois. Une histoire d'amour triste. D'habitude j'adore ça, mais là... J'ai jamais mis autant de temps à lire un roman. Mais je sais comment ça va finir : mal.
•·················•·················•
Voilà, je crois qu'on va s'arrêter là pour le journal de ma vie ? Je sais pas si y a d'autres trucs à noter, je suis fatiguée, j'arrête pas d'écrire depuis 4 jours avec tous les devoirs qu'on a à rendre et tous les exams qu'on passe.
Je pense que je vais reprendre Grey's Anatomy petit à petit du coup, j'avais arrêté de le faire seule pour regarder uniquement avec lui, mais va falloir que je me réhabitue... Je vais essayer de continuer de jouer à Stardew Valley solo aussi, j'aimais bien ce jeu, c'est juste que mon attention est facilement détournée.
Bref... Toujours pas à pas, parfois un de travers, parfois un en arrière, mais je crois que j'avance. La direction est moins importante que le chemin.
#note à moi-même#pour quand j'aurais alzheimer#le doudou geant s'appelle Ralph et Balours#Ralph etant le perso de pixar que j'associais à mon ex#Selkie est la peluche qui a été nommée par mon ex#c'est pour ça que je dis que c'est le 'père'#mais c'est pas vraiment vrai d'où les guillemets#Stardew Valley m'a été offert par lui#13euros#on regardait Desesperate Housewives ensemble aussi#mais je sais pas si j'ai la foi de reprendre solo#je verrai#les vocaux durent plus d'une heure au total#c'est fucking long#je prends mon temps#j'avais prévu de débloquer son num quand j'aurais moins de pression à la fac#peut-etre que je poste ca car j'ai mes règles et je suis sentimentale#voila voila#rupture#breakup#relationship#love#amour#sad love#ex boyfriend#letter#mot#liste#text#textpost
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Mon Petit Doudou
Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k
here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)
uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)
anyway lmk what ya think lmao
masterlist |
He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.
But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.
So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.
Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money.
Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.
“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.
“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”
“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”
If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot.
“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”
“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?”
The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos.
“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”
“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…”
“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”
“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.”
“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”
You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.
Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.
“Are you going to be good, mon chou?”
One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo.
Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.
“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.
ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)
Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.
“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”
He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.
Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)
The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.
“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”
“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”
“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”
“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become.
she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!!
The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.
“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.
He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back.
“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.”
Hot hot hot omg
You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed.
“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”
He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand.
What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)
Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes.
“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down.
To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned.
An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs.
You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt.
so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25) Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa
Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case.
He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso.
“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”
“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…”
There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there.
The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him.
“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock.
You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t.
“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.
“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.
So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade.
Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release.
hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)
Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly.
But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making.
As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through.
I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)
It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations.
But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…
You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.
“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise.
For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.
“You’re all sweaty.”
“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”
That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”
“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”
“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”
“Sorry.”
You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol.
It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.
“Why’d you stop?”
The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give and submit your body to him also looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work.
“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,”
“What if I want you to?”
Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out.
“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”
“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”
“It’s— it’s not about the porn—”
“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”
“What?”
“I like you. You seem to like me.”
“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”
“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”
He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away.
The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.
“What?”
“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.
“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”
“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?”
Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing.
“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all.
“We make porn together!”
“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”
“You’re both gay.”
“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”
Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”
“What?”
“How did you respond to her asking you out?”
His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face.
“I panicked?”
“How badly?”
“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?
Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss.
“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.”
“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”
“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”
“Gross.”
“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”
“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”
Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again.
That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end.
Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you.
“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”
“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”
That piques some interest.
“What?”
“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold.
“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”
“English, Charles.”
“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”
“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”
Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you.
His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.
“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.
Did you also get this?
It seems… uhm, interesting.
Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly.
I’m not doing any of that.
That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.
…okay.
Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood.
It’s not your fault
Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou
I kinda feel like it is…
I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this
I am sorry, Charles.
Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces.
“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”
Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.
You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going.
And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.
Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)
The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing.
“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”
Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)
Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over.
He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.
“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”
The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—
Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)
Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.
“M’sorry— wanna be good—”
“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry, right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”
You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)
Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.
Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)
When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.
The donation makes him see red.
Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)
You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did.
“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”
“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”
It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it.
“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”
“In my bed,”
“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”
“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”
“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”
“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”
“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline.
“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes.
“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”
“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”
The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him.
“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x you
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Rook Hunt french list of endearment nicknames
As the french I am maybe that would interest some people about your dear "Le chasseur de l'amour" vocabulary!! I will not ....translate those nicknames (I mean you can still ask me of course) as there are not equivalent one sometimes!! I would say just feel and vibe if some catch your mind~ I tried to classify them by their meaning You don't have to be in a romantic relationship for using those one (blame the french behavior as we are said to be flirty around the world....)
(gn)= gender neutral
(m)= male
(f)= female
Obviously you don't have to follow any gender orientation, it's just that french vocabulary have different names for gender (beside the world itself being male or female..)! Some words are gender specified but can also be used as gender neutral on some occasions!!
Let's go:
ma biche (f)/ bichette (f)/ mon biquet (m)/ mon bichon(m)
[ma poule (f/gn)/ mon poulet (m)]/ poulette (f)/ mon poussin (gn)/ poussinou (gn)
mon chat (gn TW: don't use the female word for cat (chatte) as it turns out to be vulgar here, just to let you know)/ mon chaton (gn)/ mon minet (m)
doudouce (gn/f)/ doudou (gn/m)/ dididou (gn)/ ma douce (f/gn)/ [ma dulcinée (f)/ mon dulciné (m)]
mon amour (gn)/ mon coeur (gn)/ mon petit coeur de beurre (gn)/ mamour gn)/ ma moitié (gn)
mon canard (gn/m)/ mon canari (gn)/ ma caille (gn/f)/ mon caneton (gn)
mon lapin (gn)/ lapinou (gn)/ 'pinou (gn)
chouchou (gn)/ mon chou (gn/m)/ choupette (f/gn)/ choupinette (f)
ma puce (gn/f)/ pupuce (f/gn)
mon sucre d'orge (gn), mon biscuit (gn), ma tagada (gn), mon nounours (gn)/ mon bonbon (gn)/ ma craquotte (gn)/ ma sucrette (f/gn)/ mon macaron (gn)
mon bijou (gn/f)/ ma perle (gn/f)/ mon trésor (gn)/ mon rayon de soleil (gn)/ lumière de ma vie (gn)
ma vie (gn..... this one...omg this one is used by the youngster here.... it makes them feel so deep....so adult ha ha)
[mon joli (m)/ ma jolie (f)]/ ma beauté (f/gn)
mon bouchon (gn)/ mon roudoudou (gn/m)/ mon bisounours (gn)
loulou (gn/m)
[mon chéri (m)/ ma chérie (f)]
ma muse (f/gn)/ [ma princesse (f)/ mon prince (m)]/ [mon bien-aimé (m)/ ma bien-aimée (f)]
ma colombe (f/n)/ ma tourterelle (f/gn)/ ma gazelle (f)
ma pomme d'amour (gn) SPECIAL POMEFIORE ONE for this one ha ha or reinette (f)
bébé (gn)/ bibou (gn)/ mon ange (gn)
[ma brune (f)/ mon brun (m)]/ beauté fatale (gn/f)/ nenette (f)
poupoune (f)/ poupo(u)nette (f)
chipie (f)/ ma loute (f/gn)/ [pitchou (m/gn)/ pichounette (f)]
pépette (f)/ poupette (f)/ pipou (m)
bout de chou (-> bout d'chou) (gn)/ mon trogon d'amour (m/gn)
mon étoile (gn)/ ma grenouille (gn)/ mon soleil (gn)/ ma crevette (gn: Literally shrimp)/ mon arc-en-ciel (gn)
And so many more... just ask me if you want some explanation on some! Or even more ha ha
Also for more cuteness and love you can add before:
mon petit (for male vocabulary french word not gender (yes...it's weird or hard for non french speaker))
ma petite (for female vocabulary word not gender)
Or ptit or 'tit (the cutest way to show your love and friendship with someone or when you're speaking to children)
exemple:
Mon 'tit chat
Petit bout de chou
Ma petite chipie -> verryyyy similar somehow to little trickster...well close enough for female gender oriented! It would be "fripon" for male gender oriented.
And you? In your native language?
I actually love to use "darling" with people I love around me!!
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I said in an alternative universe that Loid calls Anya mon doudou amas part of hc I had for her (him being French ofc). Originally I got it from St Lucian creole so the translation was more of a my sweets/sweetie but recent research have revealed it means my blanket or cuddly thing in other regions.
In one of my fics, Anya loses her chimera, and Twilight in returns gives her his mother's locket, and he's obviously very torn about it. So I think the idea of him calling her doudou, which is like my blankie, is just so cute. Like blankies are comfort things you give to kids and Twilight lost his comfort thing but inadvertently gained a new one with Anya. He doesn't need the locket anymore he has Anya. It's his way of moving on yk
#spy x family#sxf#loid forger#twilight#anya forger#headcanon#i was trying to find a frech nickname for like brat or asshole#i should clarify that twilight isnt french in my continuum rather his mother was a french immigrant and he grew up in southwest westalis#thag area has a larve french population so he did get a lot of exposure in general#but when it comes to parenting and pet names and stuff he mostly pulls from his mom who would use different french nicknames for him#but doudou was an original ie his mother didnt call him that thats a nickname he knew and chose for anya#he also calls her other nicknames like munchkin pépette petit monstre petit miette or just anything to emphasize shes tiny#he calls your ma biche and yor is immediately offended bc dhe thought he said bitch but it actually means doe#he calls anya bichette
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Aujourd’hui c’est mon anniversaire 🥳 un an de plus 🙄 et pourtant étonnamment je n’ai toujours pas grandi durant l’année passée 🤔 je reste ce bébé 👶🏻 (taille adulte, certes) de 18 mois (bon aller peut-être presque 24 mois) 👶🏻 qui ne sait pas quitter ses couches culottes, son doudou et ses biberons 🍼
Today is my birthday 🥳 one year older 🙄 and yet surprisingly I still haven't grown up in the past year 🤔 I'm still this 18-month-old (well, maybe almost 24 months) 👶🏻 baby 👶🏻 (adult size, admittedly) who can't leave his nappy/diapee, his cuddly toy/blanket and his bottles 🍼
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DO you have this plush? / Avez vous cette peluche (FR/EN post)
🇫🇷 voici Jeannette, c'est mon premier doudou (1999), et bien qu'elle a pas trop mal veillie meme sans son pyjama d'origine!
Je recherche une peluche du meme model, c'est un lapin rouge/vichy de la marque "Ajena" (aujourd'ui "Nounours"
--------- 🇬🇧
This is Jeanette, my first plushie (1999) and while she has age alright even without her original pajama.
I'm Looking for a plushie of the same model, She is a red/ "vichy" (thats the name of the pattern) bunny plushie from the brand "Ajena" (aka "Nounours" nowadays, a french toys maker)
note that this kid of plush are considered "vintage" and a lot of similar model exist
These plushies ARE NOT what im looking for :
#toy search#plush search#vintage search#bunny plush#ajena plush#help me find this#frankierambles#ajena
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j'arrive plus trop à coucher mes maux à l'écrit, je préfère dire à tout le monde en rigolant que ça n'a jamais été aussi mal mais que ça va quand même, je crois que je prends pas le temps non plus, je suis trop occupée à sortir, voir des gens, faire l'inverse de ce que je devrais faire, boire (trop), m'éteindre le cerveau de toutes les manières possibles et finalement ça marche plutôt bien, j'ai en arrière-fond tout ce dont j'essaie de m'éloigner et toutes les choses auxquelles je ne veux pas penser mais qui s'expriment autrement par crises ou juste dans mes habitudes de vie déplorables de ces derniers mois, j'ai des avertissements qui tournent un peu dans ma tête: tu ne manges pas assez, tu ne bois pas beaucoup tout en buvant trop à la fois, tu ne prends plus trop soin de ton corps, si tu peux éviter une douche tu le fais, tu retombes dans tes tocs de merde quand tu es trop stressée, tu ne dors pas suffisamment, tu prends un peu trop tes médicaments comme doudou pour t'anesthésier et essayer de dormir, ta voix qui te dit que tu ne mérites pas ci ou ça parle un peu trop au lieu de fermer sa gueule et tu l'écoutes trop, tu vis dans une porcherie (quoique, j'ai rangé cette semaine) et pourtant une de mes meilleures amies m'a dit que ça lui faisait plaisir de me voir comme ça, que j'étais bien entourée et que j'avais l'air heureuse, ça me fera toujours rire car ce n'est pas la première fois qu'on me dit ce genre de choses quand j'ai juste l'impression que je suis dans le pire des états possibles, et étonnamment c'est vrai que de ne plus être capable d'être seule me pousse à faire plus de trucs, à revoir des gens que j'aime et à vivre de belles choses mais je sais que ce n'est pas suffisant et que ça ne veut pas dire que je dois continuer d'ignorer tous les trucs auxquels je ne veux pas penser puisque de toute manière bien qu'en arrière-fond j'y pense quand même quand je m'endors seule, qu'on parle de ces sujets là et que je fais comme si tout allait bien ou quand mon corps se paralyse de peur et que j'aimerais me sortir ces merdes de la tête pour pouvoir profiter comme tout le monde de moments qui sont censés me faire du bien et non pas me pourrir l'esprit ad vitam æternam
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🐻 kinda wanna marry you but i forgot you were taken by your doudou for a second 💔 (if anyone reads this and wants to get married i'm available ;D)
you flatter me so much I’m sure you can do much better than me (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡
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lestappen angst anon reporting for duty (don’t worry, fluffy resolution)
you’ve made your way over to the guest suite and plopped yourself on the couch in there to catch your breath, having pulled an old Prema sweatshirt and somebody’s old boxers out of the closet in this room that you all use as overflow, seeing as the closet in the main bedroom wasn’t made for three people, and start to slide out of the lingerie in favor of the pajamas
at the same time, you hear footsteps and a quiet voice singing “happy birthday to me… wait, mon doudou, don’t take that off yet, I haven’t gotten to enjoy it” as he scurries into the room, setting the cake with the candles that he had re-lit and the knife and the champagne and two flutes down on the coffee table and coming around to squat down in front of you when he hears you grumble “doesn’t matter, don’t want me like this anyway”
at which he scrambles to get in front of your face and tips your chin up with a finger to make you look him in the eye and says “I can’t speak for him, I don’t know what he wants or what the fuck he was thinking when he totally shut you out but I will always want you, mon indispensable, like this or however else you want to be and, so help me, I will leave him if that’s what I have to do to be with you, do you understand? It’s you and me, l’amour de ma vie -” when he’s interrupted by an “oh”
you both turn to see Max standing in the doorway, holding a third champagne flute and three plates and forks, looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole, and Charles just says “you heard all of that, didn’t you?” and when Max is still standing there shell-shocked, he immediately runs over to fuss over him and tell him that he didn’t mean it like that, see
and that’s your last straw, yelling at both of them “then what the fuck did you mean it like? you,” tipping your chin at Max, “planned his whole birthday without me included and kept both of us in the dark about why, and you,” nodding to Charles, “didn’t even notice when he did and then came home and told me how much you will always want me and then changed your tune the minute he walked in the room, not to mention that nobody said a word on my birthday and we’ve been so wrapped up in celebrating the two of you that it’s nearly been a month and nothing’s happened. you two really ought to be together without me, you fucking deserve each other”
you start to see a tear glisten on Max’s cheek and shoot him a glare and spit at him “you don’t get to cry, Maxie, you know what you did” and he just spills over, sobbing and gasping that Charles wants to leave him for you and you want to leave both of them and doesn’t anybody love him or want him or at least want to hold him right now
so you send the two of them back to the main bedroom by way of the kitchen to take all of the food and related items out and tell them not to come get you until you’re ready for them
you finish putting your pajamas on, grab a cup of cut up fruit and a bag of popcorn out of the kitchen since you missed dinner, and curl back up in the guest room bed to watch the SNL episode you missed over the weekend, laughing at Pete Davidson singing the I’m Just Ken song and squealing when Travis Kelce appears on screen
by the time the show’s over, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted, so when you fall asleep, you’re dead to the world
Max and Charles, meanwhile, find themselves on opposite ends of the California King the three of you usually share, Max a snotty mess and Charles angry at everyone but you, and eventually creep toward the center with Max carding his fingers through Charles’s hair and Charles laying out the exact elaborate plan he needs Max to help him execute to get both of them back in your good graces and prove that Max is serious about you both
Charles wakes up at the crack of dawn and leaves messages with the florist and your favorite bakery, telling them that he needs an entire field of hydrangeas and peonies and he knows those are spring flowers, he needs them now, cleaning the apartment top to bottom as he waits for them to be ready, waltzing back in the door at 10am with more flowers than he can comfortably hold and a giant strawberry shortcake with “the love of our lives” written on it (he had had to say it was for a baby’s first birthday, but no matter) to find Max executing his half of the plan perfectly
he could hear his boyfriend in the office on the phone with Hermès, saying “yes, this is Max Verstappen… yes, world champion Max Verstappen, I need to know what bags you can bring me in the next hour… well, preferably the blue crocodile Constance… you only have the Constance in croc in red? yes, that will be fine… yes, you can put it on this card… whatever it is, it’s fine… thank you for all of your help”
Charles slides in, shutting the door behind him and wrapping his arms around Max’s shoulders as he approaches the office chair from the back, pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering “so you got one?” Max turns to look at him and breathes, “yeah, but they only had it in red…” Charles chuckles, “even better for my girl”
“our girl” Max corrects, “and they’re going to bring it in 45 minutes so start getting everything together”
When you wake up at 11:30 to streamers and balloons and flowers and cake and presents, it’s all you can do not to well up
both boys are clearly on a hair trigger with your tears and hold their breath until you say “I just love you both so much” and look Max in the eye and give him a watery smile and he’s on you like the two of you have magnets in your chests, telling you how much he loves you and how he’ll never ever do anything like that again
Charles hangs back for a second, letting the two of you have your moment before wrapping his arms around you both and mumbling “you’d better not”
babies🥹
she’s much better than me because I’d have ignored them for much longer BUT IM GLAD THEY ARE HAPPY
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