#Don Gentile

[thestonecuttersguild]

Hello Shangrila, Oshkosh 2023.

[lihyot-am-chofshi-beartzeinu]

it's just so fucking inappropriate that non-Jews are "identifying" as anti-Zionists. Zionism isn't theirs. Zionism is an aspect of Jewish culture and Jewish history, created by Jews for Jews - it's not for non-Jews to have any sort of opinion on, actually, and definitely not for them to identify as being anti its entire concept (which is a huge range of interpretations of which not even Jews can agree on one single definition!). Weren't these virtue-signalling leftists all up in arms about cultural appropriation barely a few years ago? I love how quickly they've donned keffiyehs made in China (putting Palestinians out of business) as political fashion statements while they chant "globalise the intifada" and proudly identify themselves as anti-something-Jewish.

like, if a tribal member feels they are a non-Zionist or an anti-Zionist, fine. I won't necessarily agree with them, but a Jew is a Jew is a Jew, and where there are two Jews there are three opinions. Zionism, non-Zionism or anti-Zionism is for us.

Gentiles DNI With Zionism Challenge A.M. 5784 lol 🤪

[usafphantom2]

Dominic Salvatore "Don" Gentile, known as "Ace of Aces", poses in front of his P-47 (336th Fighter Squadron, 4th Fighter Group).

@WW2airfields via X

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

[ghostieagere]

this is partially inspired by @tinymoon-beam's regressed french rain ficlet (as well as all her other french rain fics !!!) so please go check those out, she's a really incredible writer <3

also just a general disclaimer that french is not my first language, i am very much still learning !!! some of the weird grammar/spelling things are to mirror the way i write the english-speaking regressed ghouls, but if you spot any other mistakes then i welcome gentle corrections <3

cw: regressed rain, regressed aeon, caregiver dewdrop, french rain, language confusion, rain not understanding english, aeon not understanding french, multilingual dew, a few tears of frustration but it's all okay in the end

~

“Arrête!” (Stop!) Rain’s raised voice catches Dew’s attention. He looks up from his book to see Aeon giggling as they nudge their finger against Rain’s tower of blocks. The tower wobbles as Aeon nudges it again, threatening to fall.

“Arrête, arrête!” (Stop, stop!) Rain cries again, trying to push Aeon away and save his tower.

Dew puts his book down. “Aeon, bubs?” The little quintessence ghoul looks up at the sound of their name. “I don’t think Rainy likes you messing with his tower, okay? He’s telling you to stop.”

Aeon pouts. “If I don’ un’ers’and him, how ‘m I supposed to know?” Their question prompts the both of them to look over at the little water ghoul, his gaze shifting between them, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Je compren’ pas, Papa,” (I don't understand, papa) he says, voice small as tears well in his eyes.

Dew stands from the couch and makes his way over to the two little ghouls on the floor. He crouches in front of Rain and holds his hands out near his face, letting Rain lean into his touch on his own time. When he does, Dew smooths his thumbs over Rain’s cheeks, wiping away the single tear that fell in his confusion. “Ça va, mon cœur?” (Are you alright, my heart?)

Rain nods. “Ouais, ça va.” (Yeah, i'm okay) He sniffles as he speaks, but with Dew’s warm hands on his face wicking away the sadness, he seems to be feeling a lot better.

Across the other side of the block tower, Aeon whines. “I don’ un’ers’and, Dada.” Dew has to bite back a smile at how similar Rain and Aeon are, even if neither of them are quite aware of it at the moment.

He walks around to the other side of the tower and sits next to Aeon, holding out his hand for the little quintessence ghoul to take a hold of if they want. “You don’t have to understand, little star,” he reminds them. “You just have to–”

“I jus’ have to be kiiiiiiind,” they finish for him, drawing out the ‘i’ in ‘kind’ as they struggle to pronounce it.

Dew smiles widely. “That’s exactly right, Ae! Such a good memory you’ve got there, bub. Well done.”

Aeon grins back up at Dew, beginning to rock side to side in happiness from the praise as they turn their attention away from Dew and Rain and back to their own pile of blocks in front of them.

Once Dew is sure Aeon is completely absorbed in their play, he turns back to Rain, finding the water ghoul looking completely lost by the lack of French all over again. “Rain, t’as compris?” (Rain, did you understand?)

Rain looks over at Dew and shakes his head. “Non, j’ai pas compris. Desolé…” (No, I didn't understand. Sorry...) He looks back down at the ground, embarrassed.

“Non, non, mon cœur,” (No, no, my heart) Dew consoles him, holding his arms out in an offer for Rain to crawl over to him and be held. “C’est pas grave.” (It's not serious) They both hum happily as Rain settles himself in Dew’s lap, rubbing his cheek against the fire ghoul’s shirt and purring contentedly at the warmth of Dew’s body heat. “J’ai dit à Aeon qu’iel devait être gentil avec tu et ton tour,” (I told Aeon that they needed to be kind with you and your tower) he explains, smiling when he feels Rain smile against him as he understands the words Dew is saying. Dew continues to explain what he said to Aeon about understanding and being kind, and when he asks the same question of Rain, he gets a very enthusiastic “Je dois être gentiiiiiiil” (I need to be kiiiiiiiind) in response, the little water ghoul dragging out the ‘i’ in the exact same way as Aeon did.

“Très bien, Rainy,” (Very good, Rainy) Dew encourages. “C’était parfait!’ (That was perfect!)

Rain giggles softly and claps his hands as well as he can while he’s squished up against Dew’s chest.

“Est-ce que tu veux jouer avec Aeon maintenant? Ou tu veux rester là pour le moment?” (Do you want to play with Aeon now? Or do you want to stay here for the moment?)

Rain hums while he thinks through his choices. Dew can practically guess what the little water ghoul is thinking. If he plays with Aeon, they can make more block towers together and it’ll be tricky to understand each other, but it will still be so much fun. Or if he stays with Dew, he’ll be comfy and cosy with his Papa, but he won’t get to play with his friend. After a long while, Rain buries his face further into Dew’s shirt. “Là,” (Here) he says, voice muffled in the fabric.

“Tu restes là?” (You want to stay here?)

Rain nods.

“D’accord, bon choix, mon petit chou.” (Okay, good choice, my little darling) Dew rubs Rain’s back comfortingly as he speaks, watching Aeon over the little water ghoul’s head. They seem more than happy playing with their block and chatting away to themselves for the moment, but regardless, Dew’s glad Rain’s made the choice to stay with him because it means he’ll be able to interact with Aeon much more easily if they come to ask him something.

“Et– Et– Et après,” (And– And– And after) Rain starts, looking up at Dew with big, hopeful eyes. “Après, p– peut-être que je peux jouer avec Aeon?” (After, m– maybe I can play with Aeon?)

Dew nods down at them enthusiastically and feels his smile widen at the idea of his two little ones playing together without conflict. “Ouais, bien sûr, Rain.” (Yeah, of course, Rain)

The little water ghoul wriggles happily in his lap, letting out a very, very quiet “Youpi!” (Yippee!)

At the quiet celebration, Aeon looks up from their stack of blocks. “Wha’s happening, Dada? Why Rainy so happy?” They ask earnestly.

Dew redirects his attention to Aeon and quickly gives them a recap of the conversation in English. “Rain is going to stay here in my lap for a bit, and afterwards, he thinks he might come and play with you and the blocks again, okay?”

Aeon gasps, mouth wide open and eyes practically shining in excitement when they hear their playmate might be joining them again soon. “Rainy gonna come an’ pray again?”

“Yeah, bubba!” Dew responds, grinning. “Rainy might come and play with you soon!”

“Yippee!” Aeon shouts, giggling and smiling widely. “I like prayin’ wif Rainy.”

Dew watches them play for a few more moments before turning back down to the little water ghoul in his lap. “Tu as entendu ça, Rainy?” (Did you hear that, Rainy?) Dew asks, leaning down to talk directly into Rain’s ear. “Iel aime bien jouer avec toi.” (They really like playing with you)

It takes a while for Rain to reply, which makes Dew think he might be close to falling asleep if he hasn’t already, but eventually, Rain responds very quietly, his sleep-laced words muffled against Dew’s shirt. “J'aime bien jouer avec toi aussi, Aeon…” (I really like playing with you too, Aeon...)

[captain-price-unofficially]

Fresh kill markings go on Don Gentile’s P-51B, 43-6913, VF-T, ‘Shangri-La’, while he looks on. The sergeant painting them on is Dick Mansfield, Gentile’s assistant crew chief.

[oldshowbiz]

Kliph Nesteroff: 1947. Sid Caesar opened at the Copacabana. Max Liebman was fashioning a nightclub act for him. And then 1948-49 Sid Caesar is becoming hot on Broadway in a show called Make Mine Mannhattan. This was around the time that you first met Sid Caesar. There’s a shadow figure here, some Catskill comedian that you’re mentioned in the past, Don Appell, who introduces you to Sid Caesar. Who was Don Appell ?

Mel Brooks: None of your business! All right, I’ll tell you. Don Appell was, like, the only genuine celebrity we had in Williamsburg. And he was in a play. He was an actor in a play based on a book called Native Son. A great Black actor by the name of Canada Lee starred. Don Appell was in that.

My friend Joey and I used to meet Don at the grocery store - on the milk box outside the store. Joey and I would sit there waiting until about 11:30 when Don would show up and tell us what was happening at the Rialto, what was going on on Broadway, and stories of being an actor on Broadway. And we were thrilled… we were thrilled.

That was Don Appel. And then Joey did his stuff - juggling and running around to show Don impressions of Jimmy Cagney and Humphrey Bogart and stuff like that. And then I would do kind of bizarre things like impressions of a bald, Jewish man going on strike.

Don appreciated that. He thought, you know, there’s a brush stroke of avant-garde here. Don was a social director, in addition to being an actor on Broadway. He was a social director in the Mountains, the Borscht Belt. And in the band at The Avon Lodge, where he was social director, was Sid Caesar playing tenor sax.

He used Sid as a utility comic - and began to see he was a lot more than a utility comic… that he was really blessed with comic brilliance and madness.

Don became a fan of Sid and kept moving him along. I think he talked to Max Liebman at Tamiment about Sid because Tamiment was a big place and Avon Lodge was very little.

Max Liebman used Sid as comedy relief in Tars and Spars, which he directed, or produced - I’m not sure what he did. But he put together this little coast guard show with Alfred Drake and Janet Blair in the leads, and for comedy relief there was Sid Caesar doing shtick. Don Appell was there always helping and guiding like the eminence grise, guiding Sid Caesar’s career.

And then when there was an opening, in the Mountains, Don sent me to the Butler Lodge, which was a neighboring hotel, in Hurleyville. I had four or five jobs. I was an assistant busboy - I don’t know how low you can get. I was very young. I was fourteen. I was an assistant busboy. I was a rowboat wrangler - keeping the rowboats so they wouldn’t drift away. I was a utility actor. And one day - Don Appel got me this job.

There was a guy Joe Dolphin - D-O-L-F-A-N - it was really was “F” and he changed it to “P.H.” He wanted to be just a little more gentile because the “F” was kind of Russian-Jewish.

There was a play called Uncle Harry. The actor playing the district attorney fell in a hole or something, hurt his leg and couldn’t go on. One of the actors made me up. He was cruel - gave me a wig, glued it on my head, glued a beard. I knew the lines: “There there, Harry. Relax. Have a glass of water and tell me in your own words exactly what you recall of that night.”

All right, so comes time, I’m a little worried, a little nervous, I get onstage, and I’m sitting there. The star enters, and he says, “Oh, I don't know, I don’t know, I don’t know.” I say, “ There there, Harry. Relax. Take it easy, have a glass of water, and tell me in your own words…”

And on the word ‘words,’ the water - a full glass of water - falls out of my hand, smashes, and there’s glass and water all over the fucking place. There’s nothing but glass and water and there is a shocked silence from the audience. Oh my god. I get up, I walk down to the footlights, I rip off this crazy wig, I say, “I’m only fourteen! I’ve never done this before!” And the audience goes crazy, and I knew, well, I think it’s comedy for me.

[arminsfavoritepookie]

Sugar daddy Reiner who epitomizes gentility and compassion, an absolute pillar of strength and security to those around him. His authoritative presence commands respect, accentuated by his well-tailored black suit, accentuating his broad and sturdy shoulders.

The sartorial statement screams of raw power, reiterating Reiner’s dominance. With an arm perpetually poised on the small of your back, he shields you from the noise of business dealings, bringing an overwhelming sense of calmness, shielding you from any misfortunes.

Donning a pristine white, thigh-slit dress personally chosen by him, you bask in Reiners enchanting persona, basking in the rays of elegance and sophistication emanating from his commanding persona. Reiner’s golden blonde hair and rough-hewn stubble make him the epitome of manhood, filling your heart with an unparalleled warmth whenever he whispers into your ears, expressing his devotion for you.

Notwithstanding his tenacity, Reiner often feels agitated when around multitudes of people, unease rising from within. The formidable self-doubt pulls him down, leading him to question his adequacy in being with someone of your calibre, someone that the world regards as a paragon of beauty.

As you witness the unanticipated trepidation seeping into his eyes, you realize his deepest fear; the fear of losing you. A sensation of profound gratitude flows through you, filling you with an undeniable sense of satisfaction that you're capable of providing him with the solace and protection he seeks in moments of vulnerability.

The thought of leaving him is unfathomable, and thus you tenderly hold him, imparting him with stability and fortitude, becoming his faithful and steady partner through thick and thin. Reiner’s presence in your life imbues it with unmatched worth, leaving you no room for contemplation of life without him.

Sugar daddy Reiner embodies all that is charming and tender in the bedroom. His gentle caresses, paired with soft, delicate kisses, have you transfixed and yearning for more.

His firm grip, clasping your hand in a tight embrace as you begin to writhe, all the while his visage buried in the soft, supple flesh of your neck, sends shivers down your spine. Your cries of ecstasy, though unbidden, come naturally as he indulges himself, his thick cock plunging ever deeper within you.

Yet, as you writhe and twist under his affectionate ministrations, you cannot help but sense a hesitation. It is as though he holds back, unwilling to truly unleash the full force of his tremendous size upon your form.

Though you are no delicate flower, his robustness intimidates you, and he knows this all too well. With subtle hints, you have tried to coax him into letting go, but to no avail. His responses, each and every time, are a kiss and a whisper, professing his love and his reluctance to ever harm you.

Sugar Daddy Reiner often woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his body trembling with fear. His dreams were always vivid, haunting him with terrible images and sounds that he couldn't shake off. But the worst part was when he would claw at his own skin, as if trying to escape from some unseen monster, calling out your name in a piteous whimper.

Your heart ached seeing him like that, shattered and broken, and you wished you could take away all his pain.  But you couldn't. Not really. Because there were certain boundaries to your relationship with him; he was nothing more than a sugar daddy to you, not your boyfriend, not your husband.

You knew that his nightmares were a symptom of something deeper, something he wasn't willing to share with you, and it frustrated you to no end. 

Every time you attempted to address the issue of his nightmares, he would push you away, shutting himself off from you and asking you to leave. This was deeply frustrating because you longed for him to take that final step, to offer himself to you wholeheartedly, yet it seemed like he was hesitant to do so.

The emotional distance between the two of you became a source of constant worry, gnawing at you every time you were together.  Although Reiner's constant attention and generous gifts were appreciated, they never felt enough. You craved more than just material possessions, and it seemed like he was simply attempting to make up for the lack of intimacy with his lavish offerings.

Despite his efforts, you knew that this wasn't what you wanted. You wanted the real Reiner, flaws and quirks included, but the impenetrable wall that stood between you two seemed insurmountable. 

Reiner was intuitive enough to notice that something was amiss. He bombarded you with incessant texts and calls, making you anxious and overwhelmed. You knew that avoiding him forever wasn't a solution, so you tried to force yourself to face him every time he asked to see you. But it was always the same routine— the half-hearted touches, the strained smiles, the promises that never materialized, and it only added to your growing frustration.

  Every time you came up with an excuse to decline his invitation, his voice carried an underlying sadness that further fueled your sense of inadequacy. You wanted nothing more than to give him what he asked for, to show him how much he meant to you, but somehow you could never muster up the courage to do it. You remained stuck in a self-imposed trap of disappointment, struggling to find a way out.

Sugar Daddy Reiner was a man who had it all—the money, the power, the influence. But all of it seemed meaningless in the face of losing you, his heart's greatest desire. As he lay awake at night (for the first day without you) , he could feel his heart tearing apart at the thought of you leaving him.

He knew deep down that all you wanted was for him to let down his guard and reveal the man he truly was beneath the polished exterior.  But Reiner was trapped in the grip of his insecurities, unable to break free of the gnawing doubts and incessant anxieties that consumed him. Every time he tried to reach out to you, you always avoided him, leaving him feeling even more isolated and alone.

It was like a vicious cycle, with his fear driving him deeper and deeper into despair.  The more he pushed you away, the more desperate he became to hold onto you. He would try to catch glimpses of you whenever he could, stalking your social media profiles, driving past your apartment building, and sending you messages that he knew you'd take hours to respond.

  It was a frenzied haze of emotion that he found himself caught in—the urge to be close to you, to hold onto you tightly, to never let go. And yet, he felt powerless to stop himself from spiraling out of control.  In a moment of clarity, he found himself walking down the quiet street towards the quaint little cafe where you worked.

He knew that this was his last chance to save what little was left of his shattered heart. He knew that if he could just speak to you, really speak to you, and lay all his cards on the table, he might just be able to salvage something from the wreckage.

Sugar Daddy Reiner, a man of poise and prestige, appeared as if he had been through the wringer. His normally impeccable hair was disheveled and unkempt, resembling a bird's nest perched atop his head.

His eyes, typically radiant with care, now appeared to be exhausted, surrounded by a pair of dark circles that bespoke an underlying burden. It was apparent that something had upended the self-assured and unwavering Reiner, a sight so unfamiliar that it nearly shattered his identity.  

As he approached you, his hands trembled with an unease that seemed palpable, begging for reassurance. His throaty murmur was barely audible over the rustling leaves and soft swish of grass, "Can I talk to you for a moment?" You saw him, then—vulnerable, in pain, his once mighty demeanor wavering in a quiver.

Without a second thought, you grasped his hand, silently reassuring him with your presence and comforting words. The tenseness in his frame slowly began to ease as you tightened your embrace. The closeness between the two of you sparked something more intense than a simple attraction.

  After a moment of shared embrace, Reiner spoke, "Are you done with me?" You could sense the despair lurking behind his question. Your heart wrenched with empathy. Shaking your head vehemently, you could see his grasp on reality starting to fade, fearing the loss of another loved one. You gently spoke,

"No, I am not done with you. I could never be." The declaration eased his trepidation for the moment, but the angst in his eyes was apparent. He spoke again, his hands shaking with uncertainty, "Then why have you been avoiding me?"

   At his inquiry, you swallowed your emotions and thought about how best to answer him. After a deep breath, you expressed, "I want more of you. Not just the physical, but the entire package. I want to know what inspires you, what moves you, your hopes, your dreams." He went silent for a moment, his eyes now glued to the ground, weighed down with heavy contemplation.

Then, he raised his head and spoke in a raspy, earnest voice, "I want more too." He took a deep breath before continuing, his words shaky, "I'll give you anything, anything you want. Just stay with me."

Tears began to trickle down his cheek as he clutched onto your uniform, a wave of anguish over the possibility of losing another. It was an act of vulnerability, rare for a man who was usually impenetrable, but one that showed you how much he genuinely cared for you.

Sugar daddy Reiner who showered you with lavish clothes and all sorts of gifts that night, leaving your heart racing and your hands trembling. The excitement didn't stop there, though, as he whisked you off to his penthouse apartment and proceeded to ravage your body with his rough and unrelenting thrusts, finally letting go all sense of hesitation. 

You moaned and writhed beneath him, unable to resist his masculine charms as he explored every inch of your body. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, grunting out words of love and affection that left you dizzy with desire.

  When it was over, he held you tightly, unwilling to let you go. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he whispered promises of forever, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off to sleep in his strong embrace.

Reiner, who once was just a sugar daddy to you, is now your beloved boyfriend, and you couldn't even imagine a future without him by your side.

[leregirenga]

Deja una huella bonita, no dejes cicatrices. Se amable, se humilde, cordial, gentil, amistosa, te el don de gente para ayudar y entregar lo mejor de ti.

Extiende tus alas, revolotea, sobrevuela el pensamiento y sigue dejando lo positivo de ti. Siéntete viva y da vida, siéntete feliz y da felicidad, siéntete en armonía y regala armonía... Que nuestra existencia solo es de paso y hay que aprovechar cada minuto vivido.

Leregi Renga

[piristephes]

To Kyprogenea

Entre as brumas e o mar cerúleo Sobe a espuma e o vento gentil Reclinada em lisas conchas Vem a divina Ciprogênia Afrodite de doces dons, amplos sorrisos De busto firme e feição suave Um sorriso se forma em bela face O horizonte se ilumina, os céus se abrem Ó Afrodite, o mundo inteiro fascinas!

english:

Between the mists and the cerulean sea The foam and rise the gentle wind Reclining on smooth shells Come the divine Kyprogenea Aphrodite with sweet gifts, wide smiles With a firm breast and soft features A smile forms on a beautiful face The horizon lights up, the skies open O Aphrodite, the whole world you fascinate!

[pompadourpink]

Les temps du présent

Le présent de l'indicatif/présent simple

The indicative present is used to

describe what one is currently doing (présent d'énonciation): je travaille - I'm working (as we speak)

describe a fact (présent de vérité générale/historique): les chats sont des animaux - cats are animals

describe an ongoing fact that started in the past (présent duratif): il pleut depuis hier - It's been raining since yesterday

describe the scene (présent de description): le soleil est caché aujourd'hui - the sun is hiding today

describe a habit (présent d'habitude): je cours tous les dimanches - I run every sunday

describe what just happened (présent de passé proche): je viens d'arriver - I just got there

describe what is about to happen (présent de futur proche): je suis là dans une minute - I'll be there in a minute

give an order (présent d'injonction), alternative to the imperative present: tu rentres tout de suite ! - You get home immediately!

make a story feel real (présent de narration): il y a six ans déjà que mon ami s'en est allé avec son mouton. Si j'essaie ici de le décrire, c'est afin de ne pas l'oublier. - It has been six years since my friend left with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is so that I will not forget him. (Le Petit Prince)

express a possibility (présent d'hypothèse): si tu es gentil, tu auras un cadeau - if you're kind, you'll get a present

La conjugaison

First group (-er except Aller): je marche, tu marches, il/elle/on marche, nous marchons, vous marchez, ils/elles marchent

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finis, tu finis, il/elle/on finit, nous finissons, vous finissez, ils/elles finissent

Third group (everything else): typically je cours, tu cours, il court, nous courons, vous courez, ils courent; long -oir verbs: je veux, tu veux, il veut, nous voulons, vous voulez, ils veulent; -indre/-soudre verbs: -s, -s, -t, -ons, -ez, -ent; other -dre verbs: -ds, -ds, -d, -dons, -dez, -dent; -ttre: -ts, -ts, -t, -tons, -tez, -tent; -rir, -llir: -e, -es, -e, -ons, -ez, -ent

Auxiliaries: je suis, tu es, il est, nous sommes, vous êtes, ils sont + j'ai, tu as, il a, nous avons, vous avez, ils ont

N.B. Many third-group verbs are irregular because they used to be two different verbs (ex: Être comes from both Essere - to be and Stare - to stand) that eventually became one and consequently have two bases and can have up to five stems. Always double-check for different, stems, extra letters, accents, etc.

Notable exceptions:

The vowel -i- cannot be between two other vowels in the first and second person plural so it will turn into -y- (vous croyez, nous voyons)

In -cer and -ger verbs, the first person plural changes to allow for the correct pronunciation (nous lançons, nous mangeons); c > ç, go > geo.

In -aître verbs, only the third person singular keeps the accent (elle naît).

Le présent progressif

The progressive present is an emphasized version of the enunciation present and is therefore used to describe an ongoing action that started recently and is actively being done as the narrator is speaking.

It is built by putting together the subject, the verb Être conjugated in the indicative present tense, the adverbial locution "en train de" (in the progress of), the infinitive form of the verb of action, and possibly an object.

Je suis en train de manger, j'ai bientôt fini - I'm eating, I'm almost done

Est-ce que tu es en train de travailler? - are you working?

Nous sommes en train de faire nos devoirs - we are doing homework

-

Le conditionnel présent

The present conditional is used

to express a wish: j'aimerais retourner en Italie - I'd love to go back to Italy

a suggestion: tu devrais partir tôt - you should leave early

a hypothesis: il pourrait rentrer demain - he could come home tomorrow

to casually share one's opinion: je n'aimerais pas qu'on me dise ça ! - I wouldn't like it if someone told me that (can be a way to aggravate a situation)

to ask something politely: je voudrais un café - I'd like a coffee

to refer to the future in the past: elle a dit qu'elle arriverait tard - she said she'd arrive late

La conjugaison

Conjugating the present conditional is easy for the first two verbal groups: just add the terminations to the infinitive of the verb. If the verb ends in -e, remove it: prendre > je prendrais. Fun fact: you can build the imperfect tense by removing -er- for the first group and turning -ir- into -iss- for the second.

First group (-er except Aller): je marcherais, tu marcherais, il marcherait, nous marcherions, vous marcheriez, ils marcheraient

Second group (-ir with -iss- in the plural forms): je finirais, tu finirais, il finirait, nous finirions, vous finiriez, ils finiraient

Third group (everything else): typically: je courrais, tu courrais, il courrait, nous courrions, vous courriez, ils courraient; auxiliaries: je serais, tu serais, il serait, nous serions, vous seriez, ils seraient + j'aurais, tu aurais, il aurait, nous aurions, vous auriez, ils auraient

Main irregular verbs: auxiliaries + aller - j'irais, devoir - je devrais, pouvoir - je pourrais, recevoir - je recevrais, savoir - je saurais, tenir - je tiendrais, venir - je viendrais, voir - je verrais, vouloir - je voudrais

N.B. Make sure to not mix it up with the simple future tense, they're similar!

L'impératif présent

The present imperative mood can only be conjugated in the second person singular and the first and second person plural. It is used

to give an order: viens ici tout de suite - come here right now

a suggestion: appelle-le tout de suite, non ? - maybe call him now?

a plea: s'il te plaît, pardonne-moi ! - please, forgive me

to ban someone from doing something: ne touche pas à ça ! - do not touch that

La conjugaison

Warning: it often looks like the indicative present - without a subject. If so, in the second person singular, the verb will require a final -s only if the current final letter is a consonant. Certain verbs cannot be conjugated, like vouloir.

être: sois, soyons, soyez; avoir: aie, ayons, ayez

va, allons, allez; finis, finissons, finissez; marche, marchons, marchez

N.B. Pronouns can be added: a reflexive verb will come with a tonic pronoun and a dash in a positive sentence: Lave-toi !, and a direct object pronoun in a negative sentence: Ne te vexe pas !; when referring to a portion -en: Prends-en un peu ! (an -s will be added for the liaison to be possible), and to a place, -y: Vas-y !

-

L'infinitif présent

is the neutral form you find in dictionaries: courir, marcher, prendre

is found after prepositions À, De, Pour and Sans: c’est sans dire, viens à la maison pour dîner !, on part sans perdre de temps

is found after a conjugated verb: il voulait partir tôt (the second verb can be the first element of the sentence: courir nous fatigue)

expresses an order, advice, prohibition: frapper avant d’entrer

expresses anger, surprise or a wish: m'excuser, moi ? plutôt mourir !

expresses doubt in an interrogative sentence: que faire de ce garçon ?

-

Le participe présent

The present participle works like an adverb and either expresses an action that happens at the same time as another action, that is possibly the consequence of that action, or describes the subject. It is built by removing the termination of the verb and replacing it by -ant.

Les employés possédant une voiture peuvent se garer dans la rue - the employees who own a car can park in the street

Étant déjà en retard, je décide de courir - being already late, I decide to run

N.B. To get the right pronunciation or avoid a mix-up with an adjective, it can be necessary to modify or add letters when building the present participle. For example: convaincre > convainquant (as convaincant is the adjective), diverger > divergeant ([ʒ], as divergant would be a [g] sound).

Movie: La Piscine - Jacques Deray, 1969

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[lyafiora]

(  feminino  •  ela/dela  •  bissexual ) — Não é nenhuma surpresa ver lyanna fiora everwood andando pelas ruas de Arcanum, afinal, a bruxa do coven whispering woods precisa ganhar dinheiro como artista. Mesmo não tendo me convidado para sua festa de vinte e quatro anos, ainda lhe acho criativa e gentil, mas entendo quem lhe vê apenas como ingênua e teimosa. Vivendo na cidade há um mês, lya cansa de ouvir que se parece com hannah dodd.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ◜ ⠀connections, extras & pinterest ⠀◞

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

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ◜ ⠀resumo.

Na pacata cidade de Cheshire, na Inglaterra, uma mulher adoecia gravemente durante a gravidez. A mãe de Lyanna contou com a ajuda de seu coven para conseguir uma flor muito rara, conhecida por seus poderosos efeitos curativos, para preparar a poção que salvaria sua vida. O efeito foi rápido e eficaz, salvando a vida da bruxa e de sua bebê. Nos primeiros meses de vida de Lyanna, foi descoberto o seu dom: o seu sutil toque foi capaz de sarar uma ferida de um corte no dedo da mãe. Imediatamente, todos do coven entenderam: os poderes curativos da flor haviam passado para a pequena bruxa.

Lyanna Fiora nasceu na pacata cidade de Cheshire, na Inglaterra, em uma família de bruxos conectados à natureza.

A vida de Lyanna tomou um rumo completamente diferente quando sua invejosa tia decidiu sequestrá-la e tirar dos braços de seus amorosos e dedicados pais. Gothel não possuía magia, mas nutria um profundo ressentimento por não ter herdado os dons de sua irmã. Apesar de não ter poderes, era esperta e manipuladora, e conseguiu que um bruxo a ajudasse a levar a criança para longe e efetuar um feitiço de rastreamento para que os pais nunca a encontrassem. Levou a pequena para a Alemanha, trancando-a em uma torre no meio da floresta.

Manteve o nome da menina como o que a mãe escolheu, mas nunca lhe contou o seu sobrenome. Criou a pequena em completo isolamento, longe de sua verdadeira família e de sua história. Ela mantinha Lyanna em uma torre cercada por encantamentos que a impediam de escapar, enquanto lhe dizia que o mundo exterior era perigoso demais, que todos iriam caçá-la por ser uma bruxa e que ficando ali estava protegida. Gothel matou o único que sabia da existência de Lyanna, quando ele já não lhe era mais útil, e manteve a garota presa até os seus vinte e três anos.

Crescendo nesse ambiente de confinamento, Lyanna sabia que havia algo especial dentro dela. Embora Gothel tentasse impedir o uso de sua magia, o poder da cura que havia sido transmitido a ela pela poção era bastante útil para a mulher que queria se manter jovem e bela pelo maior tempo possível. Enquanto as plantas e animais ao seu redor eram suas únicas companhias, Lyanna passava os dias explorando sua conexão com a natureza, a literatura, a arte e descobrindo o quanto era forte.

A vida de Lyanna mudou para sempre quando conseguiu escapar da torre. Ao buscar sua verdadeira origem, descobriu que sua mãe e o coven a procuravam há anos, e que o poder da cura não era apenas uma herança, mas uma parte fundamental de quem ela era. Com essa nova compreensão, Lyanna decidiu procurar por sua família, encontrando em Arcanum um novo lar. Uma breve demonstração de seus poderes somado a sua história fez com que o coven Whispering Woods a aceitasse.

Lyanna é uma jovem vibrante e cativante, cheia de energia e curiosidade. Sua personalidade mistura a inocência e a esperança com a determinação e o espírito independente. Ela é alegre e otimista, sempre pronta para espalhar boas vibrações ao seu redor. Sua doçura e vulnerabilidade contrastam com uma sabedoria peculiar e uma visão de mundo um tanto excêntrica. Lyanna tem um jeito encantador e uma graça natural, mas está adorando viver suas aventuras e tem o espírito sonhador. Seu humor peculiar e sua abordagem única da vida ecoam autenticidade, sempre pronta para enfrentar os desafios com um sorriso e um toque de mágica.

Agora, livre do controle de Gothel, ela vem se descobrindo uma bruxa determinada, em busca de seu lugar no mundo, enquanto carrega consigo o legado do poder de cura que lhe foi passado. Sua alma é marcada por uma infância roubada, mas ela é guiada por sonhos e ambições, sempre pronta para usar sua magia para proteger e curar aqueles que precisam.

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

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ◜ ⠀headcanons.

idiomas que fala: alemão, inglês, francês e italiano.

sabe tocar piano, violão, violino, flauta, ukelele, violoncelo e harpa.

ama andar descalço, especialmente quando envolve natureza: grama, terra, whatever.

adora cozinhar, especialmente doces.

tem uma paixão pelo céu estrelado e conhece diversas constelações.

tem um gato preto de estimação que se chama pascal.

descobriu a televisão apenas aos vinte e três, então existem muitos filmes e séries famosos que ela não conhece.

seu maior celebrity crush é chad michael murray.

seu livro favorito é madame bovary e emma.

seu senso de moda é peculiar e original, sempre muito colorida, com flores, brincos divertidos e muitos anéis.

também tem habilidade com artesanato, gosta de criar bijuterias ou objetos decorativos e presentear as pessoas com isso

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

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏⠀ ͏ ͏ ◜ ⠀extras.

Aniversário: tbd.

Local de nascimento: Cheshire, Inglaterra, mas foi criada na Alemanha.

MBTI: tbd.

Temperamento: tbd.

Alinhamento moral: Neutral Good.

Characters inspo: rapunzel, mia colucci, jane villanueva, brittany pierce, lindinha, luna lovegood, daphne bridgerton, lizzie mcguire, phoebe buffay, wendy darling, mj sevilla

[bakrci]

Abaixo do read more estão algumas conexões que eu gostaria muito de desenvolver, sem preferência por gênero, a não ser quando especificado. Ele é heterossexual no caso de possíveis relações românticas.

rival da profecia: Remzi e MUSE 1 tem uma rivalidade desde a infância intensificada pela profecia de Apolo sobre o filho de Nyx, talvez porque MUSE 1 é a cópia do pai. Essa rivalidade força ambos a se superarem continuamente, com embates intensos, mas respeitosos.

parceiro de treinos: desde o princípio, Remzi buscou aprimorar suas habilidades em batalha, depois de muito apanhar quando menor. Muse 2 o ajudou a melhorar no quesito habilidades táticas e também no manejo de seus poderes. Eles podem treinar juntos e compartilhar técnicas e estratégias.

nêmesis perseguidor: MUSE 3 está certo de que a profecia de Apolo é verdadeira e por isso está disposto a tirar a vida de Remzi a todo custo, pelo bem geral. As ameaças entre eles já não seriam mais veladas e sim explícitas, ao ponto de puxarem armas quando estão na mesma sala.

aliado da caçada: Remzi aguarda ordens de Nyx para prosseguir sua busca por artefatos em templos antigos, bibliotecas, museus e grutas. Ele conta com a ajuda de MUSE 4 nessa empreitada, porque não é tão inteligente assim pra localizar os artefatos sozinho.

relação mística (preferência para filhos de deuses ligados à noite, sombras ou escuridão): MUSE 5 e Remzi estabeleceram uma estranha conexão mística por compartilharem de parentesco divino semelhante. Essa conexão especial pode dar a eles habilidades ou compreensões compartilhadas, e a extensão fica a combinar. Gosto muito do plot de compartilhamento de pensamentos! @azvolkan

aliança para proteção mútua: MUSE 6 teve um passado semelhante ao de Remzi em termos de "recepção" no Meio-Sangue. Isso fez com que estabelecessem uma aliança ou pacto de proteção mútua, para o enfrentamento de ameaças, sejam elas mundanas ou divinas.

não era amor, era trabalho (f): Remzi se envolveu com MUSE 7 porque precisava de informações sobre a localização de um objeto em específico, a mando de Nyx, que só MUSE 7 tinha (por ocupação, filiação, algo a combinar). Quando conseguiu o que queria, o filho da deusa da noite deu um perdido e nunca mais voltou a tratar MUSE 7 da mesma forma, por isso ela o considera um idiota completo. @kittybt

aliado inesperado: assim como Remzi, MUSE 8 também não está engolindo as poucas justificativas oferecidas pelo Olimpo e pela Direção do Acampamento Meio-Sangue para os recentes acontecimentos. Assim, os dois reconhecem que uma aliança para a guerra iminente seria valiosa nesse momento, com desenvolvimento de planos táticos para a tragédia que se aproxima. @kretina

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐒

MUSE 9 é empática e compreensiva, tornando-se a confidente de Remzi. Ela o ajuda a lidar com seus sentimentos e a encontrar um equilíbrio entre suas responsabilidades e desejos pessoais. Depois de algum tempo nisso, as coisas começam a se tornar nubladas para os dois, no sentido de não saberem se o que possuem é pura amizade e gratidão ou algo mais. @melisezgin

MUSE 10, tal como Remzi, tem muito apreço pela luta de um semideus, sendo uma combatente feroz. Com o tempo, os dois desenvolvem um vínculo baseado na admiração mútua. Juntos, formam uma dupla imbatível em batalhas, com química tanto no campo de guerra quanto fora dele. @ncstya

MUSE 11 tem dons de cura e uma personalidade gentil. Inicialmente desconfiada de Remzi devido à rivalidade com os filhos de Apolo, recua ao ver seu verdadeiro caráter. Ela seria um refresco a Remzi, ajudando-o a encontrar a paz interior.

MUSE 12 nunca esteve interessada em compromisso, e por saber que Remzi pensava da mesma maneira, a proximidade ocorreu de maneira natural. Com a atração, passaram a encontrar conforto um no outro nas noites escuras, mas sem pensar muito a respeito do que está acontecendo. @arktoib

[perduedansmatete]

je suis toujours un peu en proie à une tension qui me partage entre l'espoir de tout abandonner, de ne plus rien donner et de ne plus me rabaisser à essayer d'être parfaite serviable gentille et dévouée jusqu'à la moelle, et la volonté de continuer à donner inconditionnellement le meilleur de moi-même quitte à me perdre, à me faire du mal et à m'oublier voire à le regretter tant mes efforts inconsidérés sont quelquefois loin d'être mérités, avec le recul. je crois qu'au fond de moi je rêve de tout arrêter et de laisser les choses s'en aller au lieu de courir après de la merde mais que dans le même temps j'idéalise un peu trop l'image d'une moi qui n'aurait rien à se reprocher, qui pourrait dire j'ai tout donné, mon cœur est pur, je suis allée jusqu'au bout sans me tâcher de quelque noirceur possible. mais c'est éreintant de toujours se mettre à la place des autres pour chercher à comprendre et d'y arriver si facilement, de cacher le plus loin possible ce que je ressens comme si ça ne valait rien, de pardonner et de consoler en ayant le sentiment que c'est souvent à sens unique. c'est fatigant cette impression d'être chargée d'une mission que je m'impose à moi-même. je me souviens que quand j'étais petite je croyais que tout le monde me détestait, que je ne suffisais pas et le problème c'est que j'ai grandi en voulant prouver que j'existais que j'étais aussi intéressante et en voulant gagner une place dans le cœur des gens que je n'avais pas l'impression d'avoir donc j'ai pris l'habitude de toujours vouloir faire trop d'efforts pour qu'on m'aime quand j'aime sauf que c'est inutile ça marche pas comme ça mais encore aujourd'hui quand on ne m'aime pas comme je le voudrais je prends ça comme un échec j'ai l'impression que c'est de ma faute, que je ne suis pas suffisante et ça me rend triste comme la moi de cinq ans. quand j'y pense c'est un peu comme si j'acceptais d'être dans la servitude et le don de moi car je sais que je n'ai rien d'autre à offrir parce que j'ai toujours autant de mal à voir ma plus value à me dire que j'ai autre chose à apporter que ça, je vois pas mon intérêt et je ne comprends réellement pas ce qui fait qu'on aime passer du temps avec moi vu que je n'aime déjà pas passer du temps avec moi.

[todaysjewishholiday]

4 Tammuz 5784 (9-10 July 2024)

The fourth of Tammuz is the yahrzeit of Yaakov ben Meir of Ramerupt, known as Rabbeinu Tam (Our teacher, the forthright).

Yaakov ben Meir was born in 4860 to Rabbi Meir of Ramerupt and Yocheved, Rashi’s eldest daughter. His older brothers Shmuel and Yitzhak also became prominent rabbinical leaders of the Frankish Ashkenazi community. But it is Yaakov who became the most influential of them all.

Yaakov ben Meir’s Beis Din was considered the supreme rabbinical court for Ashkenazi Jews of his time, with far reaching decisions in all areas of Jewish life. He maintained an extensive correspondence with poskim across Europe, and his work was known to his Italian, Spanish, and Provençal contemporaries. In approximately 4900 he led the first major conference of Ashkenazi Torah scholars for the purpose of issuing collective rulings for their communities regarding Jewish interactions with the Gentile courts and legal system. He led another such gathering a decade later with similar success.

Rabbeinu Tam’s last days were filled with tragedy as the horrific blood libel at Blois led to a massacre of the local Jewish population. He was heartbroken at the news and decreed a yearly communal fast on the anniversary of the massacre, and then the wise teacher himself passed away barely two weeks later.

If you have a mezuzah mounted diagonally, you too have been directly shaped by Yaakov ben Meir’s halakhic rulings. The standard Ashkenazi minhag regarding mezuzah placement is a compromise between Rabbeinu Tam’s ruling that the mezuzah should be placed horizontally and his grandfather Rashi’s opinion that it should be placed vertically. Rather than take a side between the two great sages of medieval Frankish Judaism, we have split the difference for almost a thousand years. Rabbeinu Tam also differed with Rashi on the proper order of the texts in tefillin, and chasidic Jews worldwide frequently have a practice of donning Rabbeinu Tam tefillin briefly after wrapping with Rashi tefillin to show respect to both sages.

[captain-price-unofficially]

American ace Don Gentile, 4th Fighter Group with his P-47 “Donny Boy”.