#CHANCE DE FEMME

[ldpdluvr]

anyways back to femme lesbian louis, in a modern au she should wear the tiniest skirts and dresses whenever she is pissed off at lestat (lets say she got too touchy feely with someone else or cheated or forgot to take the trash out one too many times or whatever) and then she should go to the nearest lesbian bar/club and flaunt herself (she has to remind lestat of her place somehow) but really we all know that louis would still only have eyes for lestat so the minute lestat goes to her and places her hands on her ass, her anger would dissipate and they would go fuck in the clubs toilet

[emmerdeusedepuislanaissance]

maitre gims avait raison, j'aimerais tellement être la chaise sur laquelle elle s'assoit.

[asofterepilogue]

Qu’est ce que vous trouvez à melechon ? Et qu’est ce que vous pouvez critiquer chez lui ? (Ce n’est pas une critique, c’est juste que je suis jeune et que je ne connais pas bien son parcours) qu’est-ce qui fait de lui un grand homme politique ? Merciii

C'est difficile de décrire ce que je pense de Mélenchon sans parler aussi de la dimension émotions plus personnelle 😅 Est-ce que tu étais assez grande en 2012 pour suivre la campagne ?

J'avais 17 ans, mes parents avaient voté Arlette Laguiller toute ma vie sans jamais militer et sans vraiment y croire, ma seule éducation politique c'était mon expérience personnelle de fille d'immigré pauvre et les discussions très générales de ma famille. Quand on a allumé la télé ce printemps là et qu'on a écouté Mélenchon parler avec autant de conviction de ce que pourraient être nos vies, ça a été une révélation. Il y avait quelqu'un, quelqu'un qui était même parfois pris au sérieux, qui dénonçait ce que je haïssais et proposait de le changer. Qui le disait avec passion, sans faire les simagrées du PS, sans refuser de prendre position, en argumentant rigoureusement, parfois avec des références à des livres que je pouvais lire, souvent sans insulter l'intelligence de son public, en faisant des liens que d'autres avaient sans doute fait avant mais jamais là où je pouvais les entendre. J'avais toujours connu la gauche faiblarde, traîtresse, dont on ne pouvait attendre qu'un sursis. Pour moi c'était vote "utile" pour le PS et affiliés, ou vote complètement inutile mais cohérent pour l'extrême-gauche, sans autre possibilité, sans espoir. Et là il y avait autre chose. C'est pas par conviction que l'autre flanby a balbutié son fameux "mon véritable adversaire, c'est la finance" - c'est parce que l'aile gauche de la gauche lui soufflait dans le cou. J'ai entrevu autre chose pour la première fois, et un autre chose qui semblait même assez directement atteignable. J'ai imprimé des tracts en douce avec l'imprimante familiale et séché des cours pour les distribuer - gros acte de rébellion pour moi à l'époque. J'étais sûre que ça allait arriver, en 2012 ou la fois d'après, ça ne pouvait qu'arriver.

Je ne vais pas faire semblant que tout ça n'influence pas mon opinion de Mélenchon. Évidemment que ce souvenir m'encourage toujours à être un peu plus indulgente.

Mais je crois aussi sincèrement que le projet qu'il défend est un projet qui nous rapprocherait d'un monde plus juste.

Impossible de séparer Mélenchon du LFI, alors parlons de ça. Je ne vais pas refaire le programme, mais c'est le seul qui propose une alternative avec un plan d'action concret et plus ou moins immédiat. Et j'ai peut-être tort mais, si LFI ne propose pas en soi de sortir du capitalisme, j'ai toujours pensé que sortir du capitalisme serait plus facile avec le modèle que propose LFI qu'avec le modèle actuel. J'ai parfois même encore la naïveté de penser que c'est le but final, juste à horizon très lointain.

Toutes les critiques que je pourrais faire sur Mélenchon ou LFI, je peux les faire sur la plupart des autres personnalités et partis politiques.

Je trouve leur ligne sur les droits des femmes très faible (mon plus gros problème ; malheureusement pas plus faible qu'ailleurs), j'aimerais qu'ils se battent ouvertement pour la mise à mort du capitalisme (comme je le disais, certaines de leurs positions me laissent penser qu'ils n'y sont pas opposés, mais si c'est le cas il faut être plus clair, et si ce n'est pas le cas c'est une déception ; mais là encore, à moins de regarder vers l'extrême-gauche, ils remettent plus en cause le système capitaliste que les autres partis), et je pense qu'ils passent un peu trop de temps sur certains sujets qui n'ont pas lieu d'être ou qui n'aident pas sur un plan purement stratégique (mais c'est aussi le climat actuel qui veut ça).

En ce qui concerne Mélenchon lui-même, il s'emporte parfois trop. C'est la principale critique qu'on peut lui faire, et qui lui est faite d'ailleurs à longueur de journée. Mais est-ce que c'est le plus important ? Lors de ses interventions, il est la plupart du temps posé malgré les interruptions intempestives et la mauvaise foi chronique de ses interlocuteurs. N'importe qui finirait par s'énerver !

Quant à ses "phrases polémiques", que dire ? On lui a récemment reproché d'avoir dit que l'antisémitisme est résiduel en France. Sans rentrer dans le commentaire de texte, les mots qu'il a employés exactement sont "l'antisémitisme reste résiduel". "Reste" ; or il n'a jamais, à ma connaissance, nié l'Holocauste, donc le sens le plus probable de "résiduel" ici est bien "qui persiste de quelque chose en dépit de tentatives faites pour l'éliminer". Étant donné l'autre sens du mot et la malhonnêteté ambiante, il aurait dû choisir un autre mot, mais de là à utiliser cette phrase comme preuve d'un antisémitisme débridé... On sait tous de toute façon que le problème ici ce n'est pas un quelconque antisémitisme à gauche, mais le refus de LFI de soutenir à 100% le génocide qu'Israël mène contre les Palestiniens.

La vérité c'est que même les sorties les plus stupides de Mélenchon passeraient inaperçues dans la bouche d'une autre personnalité politique. Le problème ce n'est pas vraiment ce qu'il dit, ou comment il le dit, mais c'est qu'il est le chef de file du parti qui a le plus de chances d'ébranler la dictature de la bourgeoisie en France. S'il se retirait, la prochaine tête de liste serait accueillie exactement de la même manière.

Ni LFI ni Mélenchon lui-même ne sont parfaits, mais si l'on admet qu'ils sont généralement de bonne foi, pourquoi ne pas essayer de les pousser à mieux au lieu de tout condamner ? Ils ont déjà changé d'avis sur certains sujets, ils peuvent le faire encore. Il y a des différences entre le monde qu'ils dessinent et celui que je désire, mais ils ne sont pas si incompatibles qu'il faille tout balayer.

Bref, je n'aime pas trop parler de "grand homme politique" pour plein de raisons (ça a aucun sens, on y met tout et rien, etc.), mais on peut lui reconnaître qu'il n'a pas vacillé malgré un acharnement politique et médiatique de plus en plus intolérable, qu'il a redonné de l'espoir à une grande partie des électeurs de gauche qui ne croyaient plus (2012, j'étais loin d'être la seule, et après la catastrophe Hollande encore plus), et qu'il est vraiment très bon orateur.

[livresderomance]

📕Reconquérir le cœur de ma femme PDG📕

Pendant deux ans, Bryan n'a considéré Eileen que comme une assistante.

Elle avait besoin d'argent pour le traitement de sa mère, il ne pensait donc pas qu'elle le quitterait facilement. Il lui semblait juste de l'aider en lui donnant de l'argent en échange de relations sexuelles.

Cependant, Bryan ne s'attendait pas à tomber amoureux d'elle.

Eileen lui a dit : « Tu aimes quelqu'un d'autre et tu couches toujours avec moi ? Tu n'as pas honte ! »

Au moment où elle claque les papiers du divorce sur le sol, Bryan s'est rendu compte qu'elle était la femme nominale qu'il avait épousée il y a six ans et qu'il n'avait jamais rencontrée.

Déterminé à la reconquérir, Bryan l'a choyée.

Alors que d'autres se moquaient des origines d'Eileen, Bryan lui a donné toute sa fortune, heureux d'être un mari compréhensif.

Aujourd'hui, Eileen est devenue une PDG influente, mais Bryan s'est retrouvé plongé dans un autre tourbillon…

𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙯 𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙨👉https://reurl.cc/lyZk0v

Chapitre 1 Donne-lui vingt millions (Partie 1)

Dans le salon du PDG du Groupe Apex.

Une fois sortie du lit, Eileen Curtis a ramassé le chemisier et la jupe courte qui jonchaient le sol et les a enfilés rapidement. Alors qu'elle s'habillait, un charme séduisant flottait dans ses yeux, encore frais de sa récente rencontre intime avec l'homme dans le lit. Son regard a rencontré l'expression froide de l'homme.

Cet homme s'appelait Bryan Dawson, le PDG du Groupe Apex, son patron et son bienfaiteur.

Leur relation secrète était strictement limitée à ce salon. Au-delà de ces murs, elle n'était rien de plus que son assistante particulière.

« M. Dawson, si vous n'avez rien d'autre à ajouter, je vais reprendre mes fonctions », a déclaré Eileen, en offrant un sourire expérimenté.

Tout en parlant, elle a habilement arrangé ses longs cheveux en un chignon, son apparence passant rapidement de séduisante à strictement professionnelle.

On aurait presque dit qu'elle n'était pas celle-ci avec qui il avait été intime.

Bryan a plissé les yeux, son regard s'attardant sur le visage fragile d'Eileen.

« Vivian est de retour. »

Eileen avait atteint la porte du salon, la main prête à l'ouvrir, lorsque les mots de Bryan l'ont stoppée dans son élan.

Son corps s'est crispé et son visage s'est vidé de ses couleurs ; même sa respiration s'est momentanément arrêtée.

Cependant, elle a rapidement retrouvé son calme et s'est retournée, conservant son sourire bien mesuré.

« C'est compris, M. Dawson. Je ne reviendrai plus dans cette pièce », a-t-elle déclaré.

Le premier amour de Bryan, Vivian Warren, qu'il a attendu pendant six ans, était de retour. Pour lui, Eileen n'avait été qu'un moyen de lui satisfaire les besoins.

Malgré le fait que depuis deux ans, la présence de ce jeune homme était sa seule source de soutien, elle était parfaitement consciente qu'elle ne l'avait uniquement pour elle que dans les moments d'intimité.

Bryan a quitté le lit, indifférent à sa propre nudité. Il a récupéré son pantalon sur le sol et l'a enfilé.

« Qu'est-ce que ça a à voir avec toi ?», a-t-il demandé avec un petit rire, lui tendant sa chemise, qu'elle a commencé à l'aider à enfiler.

Pendant qu'elle lui boutonnait la chemise, sa voix s'est fait entendre. « Rédige-moi une convention de divorce.»

Eileen s'est arrêtée et a regardé son visage, les lignes nettes de sa mâchoire et ses lèvres minces.

« Je lui ai fait perdre six ans de sa vie avec moi. Il est temps d'y mettre un terme », a-t-il déclaré en lui tendant sa cravate, la sortant de ses pensées. « Qu'en penses-tu ?»

Sans un mot, Eileen a pris la cravate, le cœur en proie à un tumulte d'émotions.

En fait, la femme dont Bryan venait de parler, c'était elle.

En plus d'être son assistante et son amante, elle jouait un autre rôle dans la vie de Bryan, celui de femme.

Il y a six ans, on avait diagnostiqué un cancer chez la mère d'Eileen, qui avait besoin d'un traitement urgent et coûteux. Fraîchement diplômée et financièrement incapable, elle était désespérée jusqu'à ce que la famille Dawson lui vienne en aide, un acte de gentillesse qu'elle n'oublierait jamais.

Plus tard, lorsque Vivian, la fiancée de Bryan, l'avait quitté pour s'installer à l'étranger, les ragots et les moqueries s'étaient multipliés.

À l'époque, Bryan avait eu besoin d'une femme pour sauver la face. Sa grand-mère avait trouvé Eileen, qui avait accepté d'épouser Bryan pour lui rendre la pareille.

Reconnaissante de l'aide de la famille Dawson, Eileen avait fidèlement joué son rôle d'épouse de Bryan, ne demandant rien de plus.

Après le mariage, pour continuer à payer le traitement de sa mère, elle avait quitté une petite entreprise et avait rejoint le Groupe Apex, espérant de meilleures opportunités.

Alors seulement, elle avait découvert que le PDG du Groupe Apex était Bryan, son mari, qu'elle n'avait rencontré qu'une seule fois le jour de leur mariage et qui ne l'avait pas reconnue depuis.

Déterminée à obtenir des fonds pour les traitements médicaux en cours de sa mère, Eileen avait choisi de rester dans l'entreprise, évitant Bryan autant que possible. Le destin avait cependant d'autres projets et elle s'était retrouvée un soir à coucher avec un Bryan ivre. À la suite de cette rencontre involontaire, Bryan l'avait promue de façon inattendue au poste d'assistante particulière.

Satisfait de sa compagnie, Bryan l'avait forcée à coucher avec lui à plusieurs reprises, faisant d'elle sa partenaire sexuelle.

Chaque fois qu'il la convoquait, elle obéissait sans broncher. Parfois, il lui demandait si elle avait besoin de quelque chose, et dans les moments financièrement difficiles, elle lui demandait ouvertement de l'argent.

Mais lorsqu'elle n'avait pas besoin d'aide financière, elle refusait ses avances, s'efforçant de préserver un semblant de dignité dans leurs échanges, résistant à la volonté de limiter leur relation à de simples transactions.

Eileen avait envisagé à plusieurs reprises de mettre fin à ce type de relation avec Bryan, mais les coûts élevés du traitement de sa mère l'avaient obligée à mettre sa fierté de côté.

De plus, elle avait fini par tomber amoureuse de Bryan.

Se sentant indigne de Bryan, elle avait dissimulé ses sentiments, se consacrant à le soutenir au travail.

Mais à présent, Vivian était de retour.

Qu'elle soit l'assistante de Bryan ou sa femme, Eileen savait qu'elle devait passer à autre chose.

Elle s'apercevait qu'aucun de ses rôles ne pouvait rivaliser avec le premier amour de Bryan, ce qui l'attristait vraiment.

Un sourire amer a soudainement traversé les lèvres d'Eileen.

Bryan s'en est aperçu et a froncé les sourcils, confus. « Pourquoi souris-tu ? », a-t-il demandé.

Eileen l'a aidé à ajuster la cravate et s'est dressée sur la pointe des pieds pour lisser son col.

« Je suis simplement heureuse pour vous, M. Dawson. La femme que vous chérissez est enfin de retour », a-t-elle déclaré.

Prenant une profonde inspiration, elle a fait un pas en arrière et a hoché légèrement la tête. « Je vais maintenant rédiger la convention de divorce. »

Bryan a froncé les sourcils, ressentant d'une certaine manière une pointe d'agacement. « Tu es une assistante tellement exemplaire, Eileen », a-t-il fait remarquer.

Le détachement de la jeune femme l'a fait douter de son charme.

𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙯 𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙨👉https://reurl.cc/lyZk0v

[vodoungnon]

Les avantages du vrai bague magique, Vrai bague magique du papa vodoungnon medjo, vrai bague magique pour la richesse

BAGUES MAGIQUES PUISSANTES – BAGUE MAGIQUE POUR L’AMOUR – BAGUE MAGIQUE POUR AVOIR L���ARGENT – – BAGUE MAGIQUE POUR LA SANTE – BAGUE MAGIQUE POUR REUSSITE ET DE LA RICHESSE +229 55 62 11 43 OU +229 57 99 00 35 Bagues magiques mystiques. Un bague magie est un article des bijoux qui semblent pouvoir dessiner sur des puissances magiques et passer ceux au porteur. Des bagues magiques ont été employés…

[meilleurmaraboutenbelgique]

BAGUE DE PROTECTION TRÈS PUISSANT

#Prévention_de_Danger - Plusieurs personnes vont au grand rendez-vous et ce coince dans de problème +33774813740 Whatsapp Ou appel

COMPOSANT DE L’ANNEAU DE PROTECTION DE HAUTE QUALITÉ DJAFA TOBONON -un avocat bein gros -quarate-une graines de maïs rouge -nid blanc de guêpe -beurre de karité -sept feuilles d’hysope (déssrèguèman) -bague en argent PROCEDURE: -découpez l’avocat sur l’horizontal pour enlever le noyau et le pulpe des deux tranches. -déposez 41 graines de maïs rouge dans le beurre de karité. introduisez…

[gaming-universe]

How You Met || Call of Duty Preferences (1)

Authors Note: This is the first part of my Call of Duty preferences series. I had a lot of fun writing this one. So please enjoy!

Gifs by: @dustysalmon @codsona-moved @daniel-bruehl @une-femme-de-lettres @echo3one @wardencouslands @collinnmckinley @cssndra-cain

John Price

With the six months of recovery beginning to drive you insane, you felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders when Laswell called you in a few weeks early.

Her intel indicated that Al Qatala had planned an attack on Piccadilly Circus in London a few days from now, and she had no one else to call in on such short notice. When she had called, you thought that she might have wanted to meet for coffee, as the two of you usually did every week or so to escape the chaos of life. When she told you that she needed you for a mission, you jumped at the chance, anything to get you out of your stuffy house.

Informing her that you would be in London within twenty-four hours, you packed your bags and headed to the airport, where a plane was already waiting for you. Laswell had texted you all the information you needed for when you arrived in London. You would be met by the man she had put in charge of the entire operation, Captain John Price. You had heard of him in your many years of service, but you had never actually met him. But Laswell spoke highly of him, and you valued her trust in judgment.

As you stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac, your eyes landed on a black SUV parked alongside a maintenance road. Beside it stood a man: tall, arms folded across his chest, beanie on top of his head, with an impressive beard and mustache.

You recognized him from the file Laswell had sent you hours ago, and despite his seemingly warm clothing, Captain Price looked slightly cold in London's cool and overcast weather. He smiled kindly as you approached, stepping forward and extending his hand in greeting. "Lieutenant L/n, thank you for coming on such short notice..." Price spoke politely, taking your smaller hand in his larger calloused one and shaking it firmly.

You smiled up at him in return, goosebumps forming along your skin as a cool breeze blew by. You shivered, a small laugh leaving your lips as Price took your bags from your hands. "Not a problem, Captain..." you replied watching him intently as he placed your bags in the back of the car "Besides, I kind of owe Laswell for coffee last week".

Price chuckled, closing the car door and turning to face you fully. He grinned, "Let me guess, she paid for it?"

"She wouldn't let me, despite the many times I insisted. I think she still feels guilty about what happened in Mexico."

Price turned, kindly opening the passenger side door for you. "She told me about that..." he spoke lowly, looking you up and down carefully, examining your form with a slightly worried expression "...are you sure you're up for this?"

You scoffed, climbing inside the SUV with a small huff of effort. You eyed him cautiously, a stern expression that made Price freeze. "I have been cooped up in my own damn house for six months, attending mandated physical therapy for an injury that healed three months ago. I am fine. If you have any objections, you can speak to Laswell."

For a moment, your eyes met his, and you could see by his expression that he was thinking things over. Then, with a nod of his head, he closed your passenger door without hesitation.

Price took a moment to himself to release a long nervous sigh. As he walked to the driver's side, he couldn't stop thinking about how highly Laswell had spoken of you, and that you were the first person that came to her mind when he had asked for a trustworthy taskforce. He had read your file, and to say that he was impressed was an understatement. He was in awe.

You were exactly what he was looking for, and you were the exact person he needed in the fight against Al Qatala.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

This really wasn't how you wanted your first meeting with Taskforce 141 to go.

Your morning hadn't started off well. Firstly, your alarm didn't go off, and you arrived late to Laswell's briefing. All eyes landed on you as you entered the room, heat flushing to your cheeks as you mumbled a quiet apology under your breath. As Laswell introduced you to the others, you smiled awkwardly in greeting, praying to god that after your late arrival, your day would only get better from here.

But of course, life likes to play cruel tricks. Hours after your first briefing, you dropped an entire stack of files in the hallway, the contents scattering everywhere all over the floor. After that, you got lost several times on your way to your office, cursing yourself every time you asked someone for directions. And to top it all off, the final straw in your terrible, horrible, very bad day, was spilling coffee all over yourself in the mess.

You had been hiding in the women's bathroom for the past few hours, trying desperately to scrub the coffee stain out of your blouse with some wet paper towels, but to no avail. Frustrated with yourself, and the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment sitting uncomfortably in your chest, your eyes welled with tears. As you threw the paper towel in your hands into the bin by your side, you released a long and heavy sigh. As you stared into the mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Y/n? Are you in there?..." a low voice asked from the corridor, "...it's Kyle, I saw you walk in here about two hours ago, and I wanted to make sure that you were alright."

You released a small huff, your shoulders slumping as your emotions finally spilled over. You remembered Kyle from this morning, Gaz, as Price had called him. He had been so kind to you this morning after your awkward late entry and had offered you a seat next to him during the briefing. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you sniffled and cleared your throat, and replied quietly, "I'm fine. I just need a minute."

The door creaked open slightly, and you watched as Kyle's arm squeezed through the crack in the door, a blue sweater clutched in his hand. "I uh, I have a jumper here if you want it. I saw what happened in the mess and thought you might want something to cover up that coffee stain."

A small feeling of gratefulness welled inside your chest as you approached the door, taking the sweater from his hand with a small 'thank you'. As you pulled the sweater over your head and placed your arms through the arm holes you opened the door and stepped back out into the corridor. You met Kyle's eyes with a grateful smile, "You didn't have to do that" You spoke softly, biting your lip as you folded your arms across your chest. He shrugged, leaning against the wall casually "It's fine, you looked kind of distressed, so I wanted to make sure you weren't having some sort of panic attack".

You laughed, "I was getting there, but that's unrelated for now" You replied, before groaning and burying your head in your hands. "Today has been the worst day of my life. I look like a fucking mess, and I've embarrassed myself too many times today."

Kyle chuckled, "Everyone has bad days Y/n, trust me. Yours isn't the worst I've seen."

"Oh really?" You questioned.

"I watched Soap fall flat on his face during a training exercise last week. He just laid there while we laughed."

You couldn't stop the loud laughter that left your lips, your hands instantly flying to your mouth as Kyle smirked. "Oh no..." you exclaimed "...that must have been awful."

"It was for him..." Kyle shrugged "but it was fucking hilarious."

The two of you continued to exchange funny stories, until Ghost appeared at the other end of the corridor, calling for the two of you as a mission had been assigned to the 141 by Shepherd. Kyle gave you a small smile, before motioning with his head for you to follow. "I'll tell you what, after this mission, I'll buy you an actual coffee. I know a nice place off base."

You smiled brightly, nodding your head in agreement. "I'll hold you to that, Garrick."

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

He had been staring at you from across the room since you had arrived.

You had no idea what was wrong with him, or what his apparent problem with you was, but you chose to focus on Price's briefing instead. It was very off-putting, especially since this was your first mission with Taskforce 141. Laswell had recruited you at Price's request. Impressed with your skills and your file, she agreed with him that you would be a perfect addition to the team, and that you would also bring a little balance and reason when needed.

Noticing your slight discomfort, Johnny or Soap' MacTavish moved to stand beside you, sending a warning glare towards his friend cautiously.

"Does he normally glare at every new person that works with you guys?" You whispered, looking up at Johnny beside you with a questioning expression. He shrugged, "Not usually, it's putting me off as well, don't worry. I'll talk to him once this is over."

"Don't you think I should? If I've done something I want to know what exactly is pissing him off."

Johnny hummed lowly in response, turning his attention back to Price. "Only if you want to. If I had to guess, it might be because he doesn't know you. He hasn't worked with you before, so he's trying to size you up." You bit your lip anxiously, releasing an uneasy sigh as you folded your arms across your chest. "No, I know what being sized up feels like. This is something different."

He was examining you from head to toe, trying to determine whether or not you have what it takes to become part of the task force. So maybe Johnny was right, maybe Ghost was sizing you up in his own way. And you weren't going to let him intimidate you, even though it was kind of working.

The second you entered the room, Simon froze. It wasn't something that usually happened, he wasn't always lost for words. He had read your file, thanks to Laswell and Price, and he was impressed by your skills. Seeing you in person, however, there was just something about you that made him feel...strange. It was a good kind of strange, something that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Once Price had finished his briefing, you watched as Ghost pushed away from his position on the wall, and immediately stalked out of the room. You turned to look at Price, who was already looking at you with a confused expression.

You sighed, "It's me, isn't it? I'm the problem?"

Price shrugged. "I don't know, but he'll warm up to you. He just needs some time."

Your gaze fell to the table as you sat quietly in thought. You hoped that this would all work out, especially since you and Ghost would be working together for the foreseeable future.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

"Have you met either of them before?" Alejandro asked, the two of you jumping out of the truck and stepping onto the tarmac, watching as the large plane landed on the runway ahead.

You shrugged as you moved to stand in front of the truck, leaning against the bullbar. "I've worked with Ghost a few times. As for Sargeant MacTavish, this would be the first."

Alejandro chuckled, "I suppose you all work under Laswell, eh?"

"You suppose correctly, although it has been some time since I've worked with a familiar face" You replied, smirking teasingly as Alejandro turned to face you, an expression of mock hurt on his features. "Am I not good enough company!?" he shouted over the sound of the plane's engines, throwing his arms out in an exaggerated manner.

You laughed loudly in reply, "You know I love you!"

Alejandro smirked back at you, before turning back to face the now-lowered plane ramp. You watched from afar as two men descended the ramp, the skull mask clearly visible even from this distance. You watched as Alejandro and Ghost spoke with each other, while the younger, unfamiliar man watched them intently.

His gaze turned towards you and you smiled kindly in greeting.

John froze. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Simon had mentioned that they were going to work with an old colleague of his, but he didn't mention that you were absolutely gorgeous. Whatever Simon and Alejandro were talking about now fell on deaf ears as he watched you give him a small wave.

Wow, Simon has been holding out on me.

A sharp jab to the ribs from his left brought John out of his daze, turning his attention towards Simon who was already glaring at him. "She will eat you alive" He warned sternly, knowing John's exact train of thought.

"What are you saying exactly?" John challenged, eyeing the Lieutenant with a smirk.

A deep chuckle came from his right, John turning to see Alejandro shaking his head. "He means exactly that, my friend. She's fierce. I'm tempted to ask Laswell to permanently assign her to the Vaqueros."

"Good luck with that..." Simon snapped lightly "Price won't allow her to leave that easily-"

"Are you guys done deciding my life and career for me!?"

All three men turned their gaze to see you standing a few feet away, arms folded over your chest and a knowing smirk on your lips.

They all froze, eyes wide as you approached. Eyeing them individually, you motioned with your head towards the truck behind you. "We have something more important than my life to discuss. You know better than that, Simon". John watched on in shock as Simon's gaze lowered to the ground, mumbling a quick 'sorry' under his breath as he moved to walk past you, heading towards the truck without another word. Alejandro followed, keeping his gaze downward as he too walked back to the truck.

As you rolled your eyes, your attention turned to him, John's entire body tensing. "You must be Sargeant MacTavish..." You spoke politely, extending your hand in greeting, "I'm Y/n."

"So I've heard..." He replied, taking your hand in his "...but please, call me Johnny." The smile that formed on your face took his breath away, the mischievous glint in your eyes doing something to him that he couldn't quite understand.

"Well, Johnny. Just so you know, I make my own decisions around here. The sooner you learn that, we'll get along just fine."

As you turned and walked away, joining Simon and Alejandro back at the truck, John released a long breath and mumbled lowly. "Oh fuck, I'm in so much trouble."

Alex Keller

Throughout the entire briefing, Alex couldn't keep his eyes off you.

Farah had informed him that Captain Price was sending one of his best man, or rather, woman, to help their effort against Al Qatala in Al Mazrah. Farah had been excited about your arrival. You had been with Price when Farah was rescued, and ever since then, she has considered you to be a sister.

She trusts you with her life, and that was good enough for Alex.

He watched you speak with Farah about the next move for her forces, and how you expertly dealt with the situation when Farah protested about laying low.

"If we lay low now, we lose the advantage-"

"And if we attack, there's a chance that they will be waiting for us" you countered, looking between her and himself with a calm ease. With your gaze moving back to Farah, you continued "You attacked two huge targets before I got here. If you attack a third, there is a chance that they are already anticipating us."

"But we have them right where we want them-"

"That may be so, Farah, but you're not listening to me..." You began again, a clear look of exasperation on your features.

Alex could see that you were very tired, and despite obviously being at the end of your tether, you still managed to remain calm. He had to do something.

"She's right, Farah..." Alex interjected, eyeing her with a warning glare, "she came here to help us, so maybe we should listen to her."

The grateful look on your features caused a strange feeling to form in his chest, your tired eyes conveying a small 'thank you' as you turned back to face Farah. She released a long sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She met your gaze with a small nod.

"Alright, you have a point. Come find me if Price or Laswell call" She spoke lowly, leaving the room with her head lowered.

Your eyes moved to focus on Alex once more, sighing heavily as you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Thanks for stepping in there, you didn't have to."

Alex chuckled. "You did have a good point, and you were right. Another attack would have been too risky." He watched you nod in agreement, sighing once again as you rubbed your eyes, stifling a yawn.

Alex found a small grin forming on his lips as he moved to stand up from his seat. "Long flight?" he asked, moving around the table to stand beside you. You nodded again "From one warzone to another..." you chuckled, "I'm a bit exhausted, yes. But I'll manage-"

"No offense, Lieutenant, but you're not going to be much help if you're sleep-deprived" Alex spoke plainly, finding himself enjoying the sound of your loud laughter, as it echoed throughout the room. "Good point, I won't argue with a few hours of sleep" you answered, giving him a genuine though tired smile before leaving the room, and heading for your quarters.

Alex watched you leave and found himself muttering a low 'shit' under his breath, before exiting the room and walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

Alejandro Vargas

Yes, the cartel was becoming more versatile, but why Laswell was choosing to assign a DEA agent to his command was beyond him.

Laswell spoke very highly of you and promised that you would be perfect for the job. That didn't mean that he had to like you. He watched you from across the room as you spoke to Rudy. He was smiling down at you, and you were smiling up at him. You were getting along with all of his men, and it was pissing him off.

His men adored you, and Rudy adored you. And he...who was he kidding, you were fucking gorgeous.

There was no way that he would admit it out loud, he couldn't. He could see you looking at him from the corner of your eye, the glare on your expression causing his jaw to clench. You were doing something to him, and he hadn't spoken a single word to you yet.

You held Alejandro's gaze, watching as his jaw clenched, and noticing how his shoulders tensed. Since you stepped off that plane, you've felt like he hated your guts. It was an uncomfortable feeling, your stomach twisting uneasily as you refused to be the first one to look away.

"Please tell me that he isn't going to look at me like that the entire time I'm here" You muttered lowly, as Rudy followed your line of sight.

You saw movement in your peripherals, as Rudy moved closer to your side. "He won't. I'll make sure of it" he spoke lowly, his tone directed to his friend across the room. Feeling slightly relieved as Alejandro dropped his gaze to the floor, you sighed and turned to face the man beside you.

Rudy was already staring at you, a small grimace on his features as he huffed. "I'm sorry about him, he's usually more welcoming than this" he apologized, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of Alejandro. You shrugged your shoulders, pressing your lips together in a thin line, "I'm guessing I'm not what you guys were expecting?" You asked awkwardly, almost afraid to know the answer.

Rudy chuckled softly, meeting your nervous gaze with a kind smile. "He was expecting Laswell to send someone we knew, someone like Ghost or Soap. Hell, we didn't even know that Laswell had contacts in the DEA."

"She doesn't, I'm the only one..." You answered, grinning as Rudy's eyes widened in shock "...I used to work for her, but I got hurt on a mission and was honorably discharged. She helped me get a job with the DEA, and I owed her a favor."

Rudy nodded, an impressed look on his face. You could just see Alejandro over Rudy's shoulder, his glare softer this time, but still menacing nonetheless.

You felt your chest tighten, as you held his gaze once more, a feeling that made your heart skip a beat. Why? You had no idea. You weren't going to let this man get the better of you, no matter how dangerously attractive he was.

Rudolfo Para

Stepping off the plane, you took a deep breath in and sighed heavily. While the air in Mexico was humid, it was much better than the stuffy air on board the cargo plane.

Once down the ramp, and after you had stepped onto the tarmac, you were met by Alejandro. "Thank you for coming on such short notice..." He spoke kindly, leading you towards the awaiting truck only a few feet away, "if Hassan is moving as fast as Laswell claims, we're going to need all the help we can get."

"I'm happy to help. Besides, having me with you will help if he manages to cross the border" You replied, looking over at Alejandro with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. He chuckled lowly "Hopefully we will catch him before it comes to that."

As you approached the truck, you noticed a man standing beside the passenger door, arms folded over his chest as he watched the two of you approach. When his eyes met yours, you noticed that his entire demeanor changed. His eyes widened as he stood up straight, brushing invisible lint from his clothes as both you and Alejandro stopped in front of him.

"Y/n, I would like you to meet my best man, Rudolfo Para" Alejandro introduced, the two of you shaking hands.

Smiling innocently, you looked up at Rudolfo with a kind expression. "Nice to meet you, Rudolfo."

"Please, call me Rudy..." He spoke happily, a small nervous laugh escaping him as he pulled his hand away "...we appreciate you coming out here to help us."

"Not a problem, Rudy. I've been tracking Hassan for months, there's no way that I would miss this" You answered, your smile widening before you climbed inside the awaiting truck.

When the truck door closed, Rudy released a long, shaky breath. His eyes met Alejandro's, who was already smirking knowingly at him. His best friend knew him too well and could read him like an open book, the bright flushed redness to his cheeks aside.

"I know that look..." Alejandro teased, his smirk growing wider and more menacing "...though I can't blame you, she's gorgeous-"

"That's enough out of you" Rudy snapped, punching his friend's shoulder as Alejandro laughed darkly.

"Oh come on, don't deny it-"

"I'm not denying anything-"

"You were like a deer in headlights" Alejandro chuckled, mocking Rudy with an exaggerated wide-eyed expression.

With an embarrassed groan, Rudy clambered into the passenger side of the truck all the while trying to hide his bright red face from you. As Alejandro sat in the driver's seat, you cleared your throat awkwardly from the back seat.

"Hey boys, if you're going to talk about someone...make sure they don't speak the same language."

Rudy felt his heart stop.

Phillip Graves

You couldn't take your eyes off him.

In all your years of working with Laswell and being part of Taskforce 141, you had never heard of Shadow Company or Phillip Graves. The fact that they were brought in by General Shepherd made you suspicious enough, but the man did save your life via an airstrike on your mission to find Hassan, so maybe he wasn't all that bad. As a bonus, he was incredibly attractive.

You watched Graves interrogate Hassan before it was decided by Shepherd and Laswell that he had to be let go. Your jaw clenched as Shepherd gave the order, before Graves closed the laptop on the hood of the truck to your side. You heard him swear under his breath, his jaw clenching in annoyance as he turned to watch Ghost and Soap release Hassan.

"We were so fucking close" he growled, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Hassan's retreating figure. You nodded, sighing heavily as you shrugged. "We'll get another chance..." You spoke plainly, turning your head toward him "I don't know when that will be, but I'm hoping we do."

Graves huffed a short laugh, his eyes meeting yours as he pressed his lips together in a line. "Oh we will, he's not getting off that easy" he spoke matter-of-factly, moving closer to you and staring down at you "Though I'm a bit pissed that we went through all that trouble for nothing."

"That is sometimes the job..." You laughed "Not everything goes to plan."

Graves nodded, giving you a kind smile. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the only noise being that of the desert at night, and the voices of Ghost and Soap only a few feet away.

As heat crept onto your cheeks, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "I uh, I don't think we've actually met in person..." You spoke lightly, "I'm Y/n."

"Phillip Graves..." the man beside you replied, smirking down at you with a playful expression, "I'm glad that I can finally put a face to a name. Especially one I rescued."

It was your turn to laugh, "I appreciate it, really. Though I think an airstrike is pretty extravagant."

"Oh, I don't call in an airstrike for just anyone..." Phillip shrugged, "but I figured I should make a good first impression."

You blushed a bright red as you laughed, shaking your head at his bold and flirtatious tone. It made your stomach backflip and your heart skip a beat. Maybe it was his accent, or maybe it was the way he was practically undressing you with his eyes.

There was an immediate tension forming between the two of you, one that caused your breathing to stutter, and your legs to-

"Oi! You two, let's go!" Ghost called out to the two of you, forcing both you and Phillip out of your bubble of sexual tension. Clearing your throat, you avoided Phillips's eyes as you immediately turned on your heel, making a beeling for your two teammates.

Phillip watched you walk away and muttered under his breath. "Fuck, this is going to be difficult."

[tommydarlings]

the sound of the rain | c.l

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: nothing, just sad!charles

w/c: 0.9k

summary: while charles plays the piano and listens to the rain, he can only think of one thing… you — and how you cannot sit next to him anymore.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

As Charles sat on the small stool in front of his piano and listened to how the droplets crashed almost violently against his windows, he could only think of one thing.

Of one person.

You.

His fingers, that were still decorated with the same, familiar rings, danced along the white and black piano keys with slow and gentle movements, fingertips only grazing the keys while his eyes didn’t leave the wet windows.

His mind was blank — no, it was actually filled, filled with painful emptiness, emptiness that would have never consumed his mind if you would have been here by his side.

If you just would have been sitting on the small leather stool next to him, his mind would be filled with all kinds of things.

Love. Devotion. Passion. Peace. Adoration. And even more love.

But now he had no reason anymore to fill his chaotic mind with those things.

He sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks, landing either on the keys of his piano or on his fingers, one even gliding down his silver ring.

“G-God, Tu me manques tellement mon amour,” I miss you so much, my love, Charles didn’t let his eyes drift off of the rain outside, his blue with tears-filled eyes matching the big blue sky which was crying as well.

Charles gulped, “you’re crying with me, ma chérie, hmm?” He cried out, slowly letting his head hang low as he let his fingers play a melody that he heard oh so many times before, and he could never get tired of it.

“You loved it when I was playing that… know you did,” he wiped his nose with the back of his hand before he went back to playing with both hands, “Et je t'aimais,” and I loved you, Charles bit his bottom lip as he felt it quivering in pure and utter grief.

His fingers danced along the keys as his eyes blinked fresh tears away to focus more on the loud rain landing on the concrete and the glass of the windows.

He cleared his throat and furrowed his brows, looking at the dark clouds now, “What nonsense am I talking, baby,” he shook his head, “I still love you of course…always did, always will,” he quietly mumbled to himself, salty tears making his top lip shine.

“I will never stop loving you, mon amour,“ he shook his head, sighing before he closed his eyes, fingers still dancing along the keys, “how could I? Any man that carries the ability to stop loving a women like you has for sure never experienced a love like yours, of course he hasn’t when you gave it all to me.”

He looked at the droplets of rain again, lightly furrowing his brows with a sniffle, “Dieu, j'ai de la chance d'être aimé par une femme comme toi,” God am I lucky to be loved by a women like you, Charles whispered into the cold air, glassy eyes staring at the sky before he whined.

The monaguesque shook his head and closed his eyes, trying his best to get lost in the melody he was currently creating with the tips of his fingers.

“This is — once again — is dedicated to you, mon amour,” he wiped his cheek on his T-Shirt and looked next to the empty space on his stool, “Comme toutes les autres mélodies, notes et paroles étaient dédiées à toi, mon amour,” Just like every other melody, note and lyrics was dedicated to you, my love.

He continued playing the familiar melody that you adored so much, each time he played it, you gasped and immediately ran towards his spit on the piano and sat down next to him, lovingly leaning your head against his shoulder.

Unintentionally, Charles tilted his head slightly to the right, almost as if his cheek was desperately craving the touch of your hair that always grazed his face when you sat next to him.

“Oh ce que je donnerais pour vous avoir assise ici à côté de moi une dernière fois, même si c'est des encres pour une seule seconde, ça ne me dérange pas, toute quantité de temps passé avec vous en est une autre,” Oh what I would give to have you sitting here next to me one last time, even if it’s only for one single second, I don’t mind, any amount of time spent with you is another moment in life I’m endlessly greatful for.

He cleared his throat, sniffling again, “I-If you want m-me to continue playing this f-for you, my love…just t-tell me-”

And before he even finished his sentence, a tiny stone hit his window.

Sane people may say that it was simply the storm that threw the stone against the thick glass next to him, but Charles was not convinced, he was sure that his lover threw the tiny stone at his window from above.

Probably with a smile on her face, her perfectly soft, lightly red-shaded lips sending him a tender smile so familiar and warm that it made Charles unintentionally smile, tears hitting his two dimples now.

“A-Alright, mon amour,” he chuckled, wiping his nose again before he started playing again,

“Your wish is my command…as always,” Charles mumbled to himself, — no, to you of course, — smile not being able to leave his tears-stained face now as he watched how his talented fingers danced along the keys in the most familiar but also in the most painful way possible.

[kang-yina]

Lenore: Would you still love me if I disappointed you?

Duke: Why are you asking me this...

Lenore: Listen, what if I did something really bad?

Duke: I don't think me or any of our friends have the morality to judge mistakes, you know that I have a chance of have done something even worse, of course I'd still love you

Lenore: Okay... I'm dating Annabel and-

Duke: THAT BITCH???? *keeps complaining in french (sortir avec une femme britannique devrait être la seule raison pour laquelle vous obtenez des démérites)* I know you had something for her but THIS betrayal????

Lenore: and we've been keeping our relationship as a secret for a while, we actually never hated each other.... wait what

Duke: SORS DE CHEZ MOI, SALOPE DE LESBIENNE MENTEUSE

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 6: THE WINTER KING

This one didn't post before for some reason.

These fellas are iceclopses as seen in Prisoners of Love, and in the pilot episode before that.

This musical section is animated by Smallbu, who previously animated the story sections of Ketchup and most of Beyond the Grotto.

Cake selfcest moments volume 2.

Ice Marceline raises some questions! I've seen a lot of people theorise that this means Marcy is dead but I don't think that's necessarily true. Presumably she was pretty pissed off with the Winter King when he turned her ex into an insane maniac and lost some of himself in the process. What is a mystery is how the Winter King got his hands on her bass guitar, which she is very attached to.

The shopkeeper at the candy store is Lord Monochromicorn, who is mute just like in his original appearance. Also that vending machine is obviously modelled after the Gumball Guardians.

There's a brand of candy called Heartstopper. That's the name of a famous real-life series of British gay highschool romance graphic novels, which seems appropriate for this very slice-of-life Gumlee (Garylee?) subplot.

The humanised Lemongrabs are called the Lemoncarbs, which is what Tree Trunks mistakenly called them in the episode Mystery Dungeon.

The Winter King says it would be unethical to make an ice Betty, which is a bit hypocritical considering he has an ice Marcy in his basement.

This is humanised Bee Princess. They don't look very genderswapped but maybe he's just femme.

The Candy Queen's eyes match the eyes of Bubblegum's yak in the episode Bonnibel Bubblegum, which was itself a reference to Tank Girl.

Both songs in this episode were written by Pat McHale, who has been with the show since the pilot episode.

Fionna exclaims "This is what was missing!" while slicing up the banana guards, which is what Finn exclaimed for slightly more wholesome reasons in the episode What Was Missing.

Gary's innate desire to create the Candy Kingdom is manifesting itself in his baking. It was very dark seeing his cute biscuits paralleled with the real candy people being brutalised by Fionna and Cake.

It's still not clear why things keep getting de-magicked when Fionna and Cake interact with them. Perhaps it's just a passive ability they have because they come from a non-magic universe, but it doesn't happen to everything they touch.

Bubblegum seems to have learned how to use her candy powers in this universe despite the fact she was cursed a hundred years ago and presumably hasn't had the chance to learn that she's an elemental. Perhaps she learned it from her time being the Candy Queen.

When Marshall Lee asks for more details about Gary's Candy Kingdom, he begins describing the plot of Slumber Party Panic, the first episode of Adventure Time.

According to production notes, baby world was created by BMO's wish. The monkey's paw twist was that he lost his personhood and became a baby monitor.

This episode's dream features an ice fortress shaped like the crown.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Overconfidence

Minors and Ageless Blogs, Do Not Interact! This Blog & Subsequent Content Is Not For You!!

TW: Drowning/Death

This is a small little fic that I wrote for @ghouljams writing challenge: "King Killer". The prompt I used was number 16. and I suppose we can also say this falls under number 53 too.

I also didn't even try to write him speaking German, because this isn't going to be long anyways.

König was determined to impress you.

You were a mere civilian, but he wholeheartedly thought you would be perfect for him. He saw you and knew he had to have you, convinced you two were soulmates.

The thing was, you weren't impressed by him. At all. You weren't impressed with his height, the way he wore a sniper hood to cover his face, the fact that he was groveling at your feet like a dog begging for scraps. You weren't even impressed with his Austrian accent.

You definitely weren't impressed by the way his nickname was König, German for "king".

Nevertheless, König was sure demonstrating a big feat would impress you, endear you to him.

Which is how you got to standing outside, in front of a lake. König was standing in front of you, telling you he could walk on water.

You quirked an eyebrow at that, an expression of boredom clear on your face. "You can walk on water? Seriously, König." You wrapped your arms around yourself, cursing the fact that you didn't bring a jacket when he dragged you out of your home. "Come on, it's chilly and this is foolish. Let me just go back home already."

"No, no. You can't go," König said, determined to make you suffer through this just to impress you. "I can walk on water and I will prove it to you. Right now. I'm going to walk on that lake."

"You want to impress me, don't you?" you asked, a sly smile finding its way onto your face as he nodded. You then crossed your arms, looking up at him. "Alright, but I'll only accept it if you keep on your tactical gear."

It was one of the things that failed to impress you; the way König always kept on his tactical gear despite being around civilians and not even able to carry around any weapons. And you just knew that tactical gear had to be heavy, so you were hoping to call his bluff and have him relent on his exaggeration.

However, König didn't relent and admit he couldn't walk on water. He thought of it as a better chance to impress you.

König nodded, as if you had made the best suggestion ever. "Ah, of course. Wearing my tactical gear would be the perfect way to show you that I can in fact walk on water!"

So you watched, as he kept his tactical gear and his boots on and waded into the lake. You kept waiting for him to turn back, or God forbid he actually did walk on water, but neither came.

König, despite the fact that he was wading deeper into the water and not walking on the water, kept going. Eventually, he got out deep enough where he was convinced he was going to walk on the water and he stopped kicking his legs to stay upright.

He told you he was going to rise to the top and stand on the surface, but instead the heaviness of his tactical gear and his own sheer body weight caused him to start sinking deeper and deeper.

You knew he wasn't going to listen to you telling him to come back, so you just watched him sink until his head was fully underwater and you waited for him to resurface. And waited. And waited.

You waited for a good ten minutes, waiting to see that gigantic head of his break through to the surface of the water. But it never came. He stayed under the water and you just accepted it.

You shrugged. "At least he won't be bothering me anymore," you said, nodding to yourself in happiness at the thought.

You turned away, finally able to head back home and into your nice cozy house. You were freezing.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres

[amethvysts]

Opa asks abertas e vim oferecer um cenário que martela na minha cabeça

Enzo ou pipe com uma atriz brasileira de uns 21/22 (daquelas que é atriz desde pequenininha, atuando em filme, novela etc de sucesso no Brasil, protagonista diva meeeesmoo) que é simplesmente uma mistura de morena tropicana com femme fatale. Bonita, cabelo hidratado, cheirosa!!!

Ela dá um show de atuação e entrou em hollywood a pouquíssimo tempo mas fez sucesso (muita gente cadela) imagino ela muuuuito orgulhosa de ser brasileira, cativa todo mundo com beleza e inteligência, além de saber muito de cultura

Imagino eles simplesmente abobados com tudo que ela fala, se eles prestam atenção na beleza, no que ela tá falando ou na aura dela

e se eu te disser que penso nisso todos os dias? é o meu fake scenario favorito pra alimentar antes de dormir ultimamente. e por isso, quero falar sobre os meus pensamentos com os dois!

com o pipe, imagino que a atriz seja mais antenada nas redes sociais. ela é atriz, e ama o que faz, mas também tem uma comunidade de seguidores muito fiéis em praticamente todos os aplicativos. todo mundo que conhece, é apaixonado – não tem como não se apaixonar pela nossa diva porque além de linda, ela também é extremamente simpática. os tiktoks que ela posta viralizam e ela é uma das maiores it-girls do momento. super consigo ver ele curtindo e, às vezes, até comentando nas fotos dela, mesmo que nunca tenha chamado ela pra conversar ou a conhecido pessoalmente. pipe é muuuito fanboy dela, e ela sempre foi a celebrity crush dele, desde que uma das novelas que ela fez quando era mais novinha passou na argentina. mas assim que ele se tornou mais conhecido, justamente devido a la sociedad, ele passa só a curtir mesmo, com medo da atenção que pode receber. mas, isso não adianta: as fãs, fofoqueiras que só, desenterram os comentários antigos que ele fez nas fotos e vídeos dela e postam em tudo quanto é lugar. acaba que essas interações unilaterais atraem uma manada de gente querendo fazer com que os dois se conheçam, porque eles combinam! os amigos dele começam uma campanha interna pra fazer com que ele finalmente envie uma mensagem.

já com o enzo, eu imagino ele numa situação parecida com a do pipe, mas a única diferença é que ele tem a chance de te conhecer pessoalmente e ele vai com tudo. ele até poderia ter a encontrado durante o festival de gramado, mas como ela é uma international superstar, imagino a querida aceitando muitos trabalhos fora. durante os oscars, ele usa todas as entrevistas pra elogiar a atuação da nossa diva, e o enzo acaba fazendo mais propaganda pro filme dela. e eu juro, a quantidade de vídeos que saem desse homem te encarando de longe no red carpet é impressionante – o tiktok tem uma noite muito animada. tenho pra mim que ele acaba se aproximando dela de mansinho, uma das mãos em cima dos botões do paletó enquanto ele morde o lábio inferior. ele se sente até nervoso, mas só porque é a maior celebrity crush dele – nem ele tá imune desse mal. começa elogiando a atuação dela, dizendo que é um grande admirador dos filmes e novelas que ela já fez, chega até a citar um trabalho que foi muito marcante na carreira dela. e, quando os dois menos esperam, passam até a after-party conversando.

[crococookie]

Tips pour RP avec des personnages ayant des troubles dys.

Je parle surtout avec mon vécu et les difficultés que je retrouve au quotidien.

(Mon texte ne sera pas corrigé via un correcteur en ligne. Risque de faute.)

• Éviter un maximum d'utiliser des polices avec des empâtement.

C'est aussi agréable pour nous que lire un pavé barré. (Lexend de Google font... Just perfect).

• Prenez le temps de séparer les lignes de dialogue du reste du texte.

Changer de couleur ne suffit vraiment pas. Sautez au moins une lignes avant et après. Surtout si l'espacement des lignes est petite.

• l'écriture inclusive c'est ok, mais pas pour tout. Le mélange de mots (celleux, createurices etc...) c'est juste une difficulté en plus pour nous.

Comme certains point médian ! Au mieux, demandez a la personne avec qui vous jouez si iel préfère le •, le . ou encore le bon vieux - (mon pref ! Celui qui le convient me mieux). Et le TOP DU TOP ! Utilisez des mots neutres, tout simplement. Genre "Les hommes et les femmes" dire "les personnes" aux lieux de celleux. (C'est mieux si l'écriture inclusive était vraiment inclusive pour un max de gens).

• Essayez d'être assez bref.

Genre ça sert vraiment a rien de broder le texte en rajoutant des mots inutiles pour dire que Eugène mange une tranche de pain de mie. Joliment le décrire, oui. En faire une tonne, non. Pas besoin de remonter jusqu'à la pouce du blé.

• Si on répond a côté de la plaque, nous le dire avec bienveillance.

Il arrive (souvent) qu'on lisent mal une phrase, ce qui peut changer le sens de la réponse qu'on nous a envoyé. Ce n'est pas un manque d'attention mais juste que parfois, certains mots se changent en d'autre mots, ce qui est problématique pour la conpréhension su texte.

• Écrire et surtout lire nous prend plus de temps et plus d'énergie.

Nous pressez ne sert a rien a part nous mettre mal. Quand le texte devant vos yeux, même avec la plus grande concentration au monde, est illisible (fatigue, stresse...). Bah on ne peut rien y faire.

• Nous rattraper sur nos fautes sans notre accord peut être... Extrêmement vexant et baisser notres estimes de nous.

On sait qu'on fait des fautes, et même avec une super explication on l'a refera au premier coup de fatigue. Écrire est surtout un plaisir, on n'as pas forcément envie d'avoir un court de français, même si de base le geste était bienveillant.

• Surtout... SURTOUT laissez nous une chance.

Personnellement j'ai souvent ressenti de la honte a cause de ça. Je fais des fautes, je passe mes RP au correcteur orthographique, mais certaines fautes restes.

Bien-sûr, chaque dys est unique. Certaines choses dites ici ne sont pas valable pour tout le monde. C'est surtout mon vécu et ce que j'ai pu entendre en parlant avec d'autre dys rpgiste (trop rare malheureusement, souvent pas honte).

C'est pour ça que le mieux à faire, c'est d'en parler en amont. A vous, personnes dys, de prévenir en cas de problème. Et a vous, les autres, d'être cool pour que tout le monde puisse partager un passe temps/passion dans la joie et la bonne humeur.

Les dys (et autres), n'ayez pas honte. Ce n'est pas parce que votre écriture n'est pas parfaite que vous écrivez mal. Nous ne sommes pas bête, pas fainéants, et non, nos troubles dys ne sont pas une "simple excuse pour mal écrire" mais bien un handicap.

N'hésitez pas a rebloguer si vous voulez rajouter quelque chose (surtout des petits conseils) ou a tout simplement le dire en commentaire.

Et soyez bienveillant, il y a déjà trop de colère en ce moment.

La bise ! ♥

[vodoungnon]

Rendre ton mari fou amoureux de toi, Avoir un foyer stables

Rituel efficace du retour affectif existe toujours chez le Grand Marabout Vodoungnon Medjo, Il est fiable et efficace dans ses rituels il vous garantir 72h pour avoir le résultats de votre commandé, il est simple et accueillant👉👉 sur +229 57 99 00 35 appelle-le dès maintenant il vous reçoit avec la bénédiction. Voici quelques listes de son travail dans le domaine sentimental et santé 1 = Tu…

[sabinerondissime]

J'aime les hommes plus jeune que moi. Beaucoup plus jeune. La moitié de mon âge parfois. Mais quand une femme dit cela, elle est immédiatement jugée. Les femmes pensent que c'est une honte de craquer pour des hommes qui ont l'âge de mes fils. Les hommes pensent que je veux juste m'envoyer en l'air avec quelqu'un de plus vigoureux qu'un homme de mon âge. Je me suis faite appeler couguar assez souvent. Chacun juge selon son ressenti. Mais mon ressenti à moi est celui ci. De la même façon qu'un homme peut préférer une blonde à une brune, où qu'une femme va choisir un homme grand plutôt que petit, je n'ai pas choisi vers qui j'allais être attirée. J'avais seulement 18 ans que mon petit ami avait déjà 2 ans de moins que moi. A 20 ans, en regardant les hommes de 50 ans, je savais qu'ils ne m'attireraient jamais, sauf cas exceptionnel. Car je parle là de l'attirance physique, pas de celle qui se créée lorsqu'on apprécie une personne quel que soit son âge. Si un homme de 30 ans me drague, il a plus de chances d'attirer mon attention qu'un homme de 50 ans ou plus, sauf si celui ci est suffisamment intéressant pour me séduire. Mais en aucun cas, je ne suis attirée vers les jeunes hommes pour une question de sexe. Car pour moi, le sexe n'est qu'un aboutissement, pas une recherche. C'est une étape obligée quand on a envie de vivre une relation. Je n'ai aucun attrait pour les one shot. Avec l'âge, bien entendu, je plais de moins en moins aux hommes de 30 ans. Ou alors ils veulent seulement avoir une expérience avant de passer à autre chose et ça c'est hors de question. Je trouve cela tout à fait normal et je me suis faite une raison. D'ailleurs, il me serait difficile aujourd'hui d'envisager une relation comprenant du sexe avec un homme aussi jeune (comme avec un plus vieux d'ailleurs !) . Mais bref, voilà ! J'aime les hommes beaucoup plus jeune que moi, comme d'autres aiment les femmes maigres ou très rondes. Comme d'autres encore aiment les hommes glabre plutôt que les poilus. Simplement parce que c'est dans ma nature.

[toffavoyance]

BAGUE DE CHANCE ET PROTECTION

C’est une bague qui donne beaucoup de chance pour le succès et la bonne marche dans les affaires,les loteries, et toutes sortes de jeux . .