#Dayani

[daneecastle]

I had stated a long while back that i was doing a Good Omens Western Roleplaying Game. Well, we finished it!

I did this with two others, but it ended with just me and @ad-astrah.

I moved the rp to a doc and it turned into almost 700 pages. So i still have a lot of work to organize the story into a fan fiction and get some colored illustrations made.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Harry & Meghan To Take Lead Of Archewell As Predident, Mandana Dayani, will not be replaced-December 4th 2022

"The Duke and Duchess of Sussex are to assume full leadership of their Archewell Foundation, as the organization’s president, Mandana Dayani, is stepping down after 18 months.

Dayani was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the media and charitable group and has exited in what has been described as an amicable and planned transition.

"She will not be replaced as Archewell’s founders Prince Harry and Meghan Markle had long intended to assume full management of the enterprise."

Per a statement shared with Deadline, an Archewell spokesperson said Dayani was brought on while the couple was off for parental leave and that “she has continued to shape (Archewell’s) vision and future successfully.” (See the full statement below.)

Here’s the statement from Archewell: “Ms. Dayani has been an integral part of Archewell and we are grateful for her passion, commitment and leadership. Ms. Dayani was brought on during their parental leave to move the company and its projects forward. She has continued to shape its vision and future successfully. Her transition was mutually planned, with intent for The Duke and Duchess to now take full lead of their company. There will be no replacement for this position, and Ms. Dayani is fully supportive of The Duke and Duchess in their new leadership roles, and they remain friends.”

[abirdie]

Gael García Bernal in Desierto (2015, dir. Jonás Cuarón)

(these gifs also feature Alondra Hidalgo)

Gifs are all 540px wide so you can click to see larger.

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[soovermyself]

At the DNC on August 20, 2024 in Chicago

[thatbitchsimone]

[sassysophiabush]

[backtonormallife]

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Mandana Dayani speaks about antisemitism

[booksinantwerp]

Jayne Windsor for Stella McCartney. Editorial was shot by Alasdair McLellan & styled by Soraya Dayani for the October 2002 issue of i-D magazine. follow on Instagram for more

[travelbinge]

By Nirmal Dayani

Delhi, India

[ss396chevelle1968]

Dayanis Garcia

[jerseydeanne]

[ilyricshub]

Roya Jab Tu Lyrics - Mr. & Mrs. Mahi | Vishal Mishra

Roya Jab Tu Lyrics - Mr. & Mrs. Mahi | Vishal Mishra #RoyaJabTu #RajkummarRao #JanhviKapoor #MrandMrsMahi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

*sorry for misnumbering

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man catches you by surprise as he appears. You’re busy scraping out the bottom of the toaster as he stands silently at the counter. You smile over at him and call out for him to bear with you for a moment. You’re not sure how you didn’t hear him, even as you tried to chip away at the burnt crumbs. Xander never cleans it. 

“Hi, sir, sorry.” You dry off your hands as you approach. “Black coffee.” 

You punch in his order and he waits patiently to tap his smartwatch on the machine. He doesn’t say a word as you pour him a cup. It’s typical but unsettling nonetheless. 

“Oh, er, I think... I think last time there was a mix-up.” You say as you put his cup on the counter. He ignores you and goes to grab a sleeve and a lid. You follow as you dig around in your apron pocket. “Uh, sir, I think you gave me the wrong tip.” 

You bring the folded bill out of your pocket and hold it out. He doesn’t even look at it. Instead, his dark eyes bore into you. Oh. That’s scary. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

That’s it. He’s already halfway around before you can process his words. His tone hangs in the air and lingers even as the door opens and closes across the atrium. You rescind your arm and open up the bill. 

It’s a lot of money. You could use it but it just feels so wrong. You can’t help but feel indebted. Maybe because you’re used to bending over backwards for each cent. You’ll be smart. Put it away for an emergency. Those always seem to find you at the worst moment. 

Your shift comes to an end as the city skyline softens beneath the amber glow of sunrise. Dayani takes the keys and sends you off. You’re tempted to grab a coffee to go before you leave but you can’t. You need sleep. 

You come out onto the street and take your usual route. You cut behind the corner shop and around the short alleyway. As you come out on the other side, a shadow appears, as if splitting from the brick, and falls into step beside you. 

You stumble and glance over at the stranger. It’s that man. The one who always wears black and orders the same shade of coffee. 

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says. 

You’re too addled to respond. How did he find you? How did he know you’d come this way? 

You stop but only for a moment as he grabs your arm and lurches you forward. You whimper and struggle to keep in stride. His grip is tight and his fingertips jab painfully. 

“Sir? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” 

“You shouldn’t take shortcuts,” he reprimands, eyes set ahead of him as he drags you down your usual path. “It’s dangerous.” 

“Oh, ouch, sorry. I—what's happening?” You squeak as confusion muddles your thoughts. 

“Anyone could sneak up on you.” He doesn’t falter. You can hardly keep your feet moving as your adrenaline floods through your veins and narrows your vision. You glance around helplessly but the few bodies on the street don’t spare you a single look. 

“I’m sorry. Again. But—ow. Do you want your money back?” You try to shrug him off as he turns down your street. 

He’s silent as he marches on. He stops you in front of your building and angles you to face it. He keeps a hold of you. 

“Should be in this building. Locks janky. Any asshole can climb the fire escape.” He points along the side. “Or carry in an empty pizza box behind the elderly old lady who’s too helpful for her own good.” 

You wince and hold the air in your chest. “Sir?” 

“Night shift. Alone. That’s third. Stupid,” he snarls. 

“Sir, I—I have roommates and... and there’s cameras.” 

“And assholes wear masks or don’t give a shit,” he growls. 

You whine as he squeezes and you touch his hand. “Ow, please, you’re hurting me.” 

He shifts and looks down at his hand. He gives one last squeeze and releases you. He drops his arm straight and faces you. 

“Lots of men out there would hurt you worse.” 

You shake your head at him. You don’t understand. You’re not stupid. You’ve lived in the city long enough. 

“You leave just before eleven. At least you have the sense to stay in streetlights then. But you keep your head down and don’t look where you’re going,” he rebukes. “You don’t see your own shadow or the second one making sure no one else notices you.” 

You pout and flutter your lashes. The fear slowly rises up from your stomach to your chest until you’re choked dumb. His mouth slants. 

“You should use that money for a can of mace. Maybe a taser.” He squares his shoulders and looks you up and down. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my eye on you.” 

You flounder, lips twitching, and he puts his back to you. He stalks off without another word or another look. You watch him until he’s only a speck in the cityscape. 

What the heck was that? 

[soovermyself]

[thatbitchsimone]