#Kim Canales

[first-ex-wife]

yearning for New York again....

[aricastmblr]

bts.bighitofficial instagram canal de difusión For ARMY 💜 - publico BTS official Administrador:

Se cambio el 14oct2024 09.10 el estilo de personalizado en el canal se compartió link para Jin Happy para vídeo del 15nov. y el sábado 19 se volvió a compartir link de bts.bighitofficial instagram referente al Jin Happy Visual Clip 1. El 21/22oct2024 se unió como colaborador wootteo en el canal puso mensaje ("feliz noche comienzan las actividades con vigor") y compartió link a su cuenta en instagram a revelación de galería de Jin

(Es el primer cambio y unión de colaborador en este canal que empezó con Jimin MUSE solo lo pongo por el cambio ya compartire cuando sea de mis chicos jmjk)

[yexuscomic]

EL DIARIO MONTAÑÉS

[minminbunny]

2) if you're interested

Could you do a OT8 fic where the reader goes to her obgyn appointment for the readers annual checkup and such but the usual doctor isn't there and the usual doctor is a woman but she was out sick or smt and so the doctor gets someone in skz to take over her appointments depending on the time a different person gets an appointment so reader goes to the obgyn and gets informed of the changes but reader didn't have a choice so they stick to the appointment and whichever member gets the appointment does the checkup but halfway through the other members walk in during the check up and join in to help check up on reader and just ends up messy sex?

-🖤🤍🐇🐶

Doctor AU - Doctor! Kim Seungmin/Doctor! Seo Changbin/Doctor! Han Jisung/Patient Fem! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Miss, could you change into this," Seungmin said, gesturing to a thin piece of outerwear. You nodded, changing behind the curtain. Seungmin adjusted his glasses, "Get on top and position your legs respectfully. "Okay," you whispered, relaxing when you were set in a familiar appointment position. Seungmin tugged the gloves down his hands, a soft snap echoing in the room, "From your consultation, you've said that you notice your canal being too tight for masturbation, right?" he asked, sitting on the stool between your legs. You nodded, "Yes, I tried inserting two fingers like I normally do but the stretch stung," you admitted, trying not to be flustered.

Seungmin nodded, and he tore open a packet of lube, "May I? Let me know if it hurts," he said, gently parting your folds as your swollen clit peeks out from under the hood. You nodded, exhaling deeply, "Okay," you said, bracing for the intrusion. Seungmin eased his pinky finger, lightly thrusting in and out, "Does this hurt?" he asked, watching your expression. You shook your head, "No, I don't quite feel anything?" You questioned, trying to clench around the thing penetrating your hole. Seungmin hummed, easing his middle finger and curling it against the squishy walls of your cunt. You furrowed your eyebrows, "That feels good," you said, melting under his ministrations.

NSFW BELOW CUT

The office door swung open, and two doctors walked in. You instantly closed your legs, your heart pounding in your chest. Seungmin sighed, adjusting his glasses, "Doctor Han, Doctor Seo. What may be the problem?" he asked crossing his arms. Jisung walked up to you, and he ran his fingers through your hair, "Nurse Bang said you had a pretty patient," he said cooing at the fear in your eyes. Changbin nodded, putting on his gloves, "Doctor Han meant to say that you might need a little assistance," he said, patting your knee and placing your legs back in their original position. Jisung kissed your forehead, "If you need your safeword we'll stop immediately, princess," he reassured, worried you were actually scared. You exhaled shakily, remembering you were in a scene, "I will," you said, reassuring them before starting. Seungmin chuckled, spreading your legs further, "Now let's try to loosen up your tight hole, hm?" he said, easing his fingers back up your canal.

Changbin hissed, thrusting his cock within your fist, "Good girl, fuck your hand feels so good," he grunted, tossing his head back as you rubbed between his slit. Jisung hooked his arm around Seungmin's shoulder, "I'm so fucking close, Min. Are you?" he asked, pounding your cunt alternately with Seungmin's thrusts. "Yeah, hah, ah," Seungmin moaned, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose. Jisung groaned, as he pressed the base of your tummy with his other hand, "Fuck!" he cried out, flooding your warm ribbed wall with his orgasm. Seungmin growled, his cock enveloped in Jisung's hot load and your fluttering walls, "Cumming, hah," he gasped, ejaculating right after.

Changbin's thighs quivered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he babbled, squirts of white landing on your face and chest. You whined, clenching hard around their sensitive cock, "I haven't cum," you sulked, glaring at them through hooded eyes. Jisung chuckled, turning on a vibrator and placing it directly against your puffy clit, "Come on, princess. Gush around our messy cocks. Drip everywhere," he said, lazily thrusting his cock in and out of your pulsing walls. Seungmin groaned, leaning his head against Jisung's shoulder, "Hah, yes. Please cum for us, puppy" he said, drool dripping down the sides of his lips. You arched your back, eyes rolling back at the intensity of the vibrator stimulating your swollen puffy clit, "Hah, ah, hah!" you cried out, clenching hard enough to force their cocks out for your cunt as you came. The edge of the bed was slicked with orgasms and arousal. The floor was messy with sticky cum.

Chan walked in with a mop, "Did you have fun, baby girl?" he asked, chucking softly at the dopey clear smile on your face. You kissed Changbin's cockhead, "Ahm, lots of fun," you said, catching your breath

[pinkpabli]

DE swap au. Harry being a recovering alcoholic that has fucked up so hard with Dora and the others that has completely changed his life. He is a Boring Cop now, no communist agenda, no disco, no games. Only placid smiles and a tie that keeps talking to him, only for him to simulate deafness.

Kim that is traumatised after Eyes's death. A Kim that pushes everyone away, that is closed off and demanding of himself that takes speed to function. A Kim that is so tired yet determined to solve yet another case that plunges his loved Kineema into the canal, and loses his memory.

An Harry and Kim that don't know how to approach one another. Kim is so confused, but Harry understands him better than most people. He sees his pain even behind his memory loss. He can see Kim struggles with himself, both now and before. He has heard the stories.

So Harry starts to joke around. Starts to make jokes, play ball with old men, tries to share a sandwich with his new partner. Believes in the haunted story and together they go investigate. Look Kim, look at this wall, doesn't it seem too empty? It needs a good slogan!

Boring Cop Harry that slowly comes out of his torpor just to make Kim happy. Not so boring cop Harry that can finally be himself again. Look at these shoes Kim, aren't they disco? What about these glasses? KARAOKE! let's sing!

[nominzn]

izzy por favor faça qualquer coisa que envolva os dojaejung eu imploroooo

as formas do amor I dojaejung

n/a: pensei em fazer uma parte contando a história de cada um. querem?

você olha para a câmera com nervosismo, por que é que aceitou isso? tudo bem que o dinheiro que lhe ofereceram fora ótimo, mas agora se questiona se realmente valia a pena.

antes que pudesse desistir, o time que conduz o experimento chama sua atenção, dizendo que o vídeo j�� fora iniciado. não tem mais jeito.

"é muito simples. nós vamos te fazer algumas perguntas, como uma entrevista. a gente só quer produzir esse conteúdo pra mostrar ao pessoal do canal como o amor pode variar ao longo do tempo." o diretor explica.

"tudo bem." você suspira, se preparando sem saber o que viria pela frente. tudo que sabe é que vai falar sobre experiências amorosas.

"então, primeira pergunta." uma jovem anuncia, sendo seguida por alguns barulhos de tambor improvisados pelos colegas.

todas as câmeras capturam sua reação tensa, bem enquadradas no seu rosto.

VOCÊ ESTÁ APAIXONADA ATUALMENTE?

você sorri aliviada, deixando um pouco de ar escapar pelo nariz. uma das câmeras flagra o momento exato que sua postura relaxa e muda da água para o vinho. "sim."

um coro de 'aw' preenche o recinto, e você esconde o rosto com as mãos.

POR QUEM?

"pelo meu noivo, kim jungwoo." pronuncia o nome com delicadeza, aproveitando para mostrar o anel de diamante para as câmeras. só de pensar nele fica visivelmente mais feliz e à vontade, permitindo que sua personalidade fosse vista pelos pesquisadores.

QUANDO SE CONHECERAM?

o sorriso bobo aumenta as expectativas dos ouvintes, que além de registrarem as mudanças na sua linguagem corporal para explicar melhor o experimento aos inscritos no canal quando o vídeo saísse, também prestam o máximo de atenção simplesmente por curiosidade.

"foi há alguns anos, eu tinha acabado de terminar com o melhor amigo dele."

uma das meninas deixou uma expressão surpresa escapar, fazendo todos rirem ao fundo, te levando junto também.

"o jungwoo morava fora quando eu namorava o dito cujo, então a gente nunca se encontrou. eles eram próximos, então acabou que criei uma amizade com ele também. quando terminei, continuei amiga do jungwoo, até que ele voltou pra casa, e a gente saiu junto como amigos." o risinho disfarçado não engana ninguém.

SÓ AMIGOS?

"tá..." você confessa com timidez. "confesso que quando eu o vi pessoalmente pela primeira vez, eu fiquei meio balançada. ele é lindo de doer, qual é." pausa para rir com gosto, a lembrança é muito feliz. "demorou até que eu admitisse que tava gostando dele, também não sabia como ele ia reagir. não é todo mundo que aceita ser talarico assim." você ri mais, porém se arrepende da piada e olha para uma das câmeras. "desculpa, amor, é brincadeira." o time te acompanha na risada. "ele odeia que eu fale isso."

COMO VOCÊS COMEÇARAM A NAMORAR?

"isso é engraçado porque, como eu disse, eu não queria admitir. só que a gente começou a passar tanto tempo junto que os nossos amigos repararam que tinha alguma coisa ali. eu, boba, não vi que ele também gostava de mim. daí ficamos nesse joguinho até que a gente brigou feio porque ele achava que eu tava com ciúmes da namorada nova do jaehyun." ao pronunciar o nome do ex, você põe as mãos na boca. "meu Deus, censura o nome dele."

o staff da produção ri de tudo que você diz, e isso te ajuda a se abrir, mas também faz cosquinha no seu ego, fica se achando.

"enfim... socorro." toma um gole d'água na garrafinha disponibilizada para você. "a gente brigou feio, discutimos na frente de todo mundo num churrasco. no dia seguinte ele tava na minha porta com cara de cão arrependido, me pediu desculpas e me beijou."

outro coro, desta vez de urros de comemoração, te interrompeu.

"pois é, né. passamos por todas as fases: ficantes casuais, ficante sério, premium, premium plus... e, finalmente, namorados."

E O PEDIDO DE CASAMENTO?

"ai, olha..." sente as pálpebras arderem, e pede um momento para se concentrar. "pra começar, foi em Paris. a viagem foi um presente de dois anos de namoro, e é aquilo né... ele me deu uma viagem romântica de presente ou ele vai me pedir em casamento? eu tentei fugir das expectativas, mas no fundo a gente sempre sabe. foi no nosso quarto do hotel, na nossa penúltima noite na cidade. eu tava na varanda admirando a vista pra torre, e ele me surpreendeu com o anel."

nesse momento, algumas lágrimas já haviam caído. a entrevistadora se levantou, te deu um abraço e ofereceu um lencinho de papel antes de voltar ao seu lugar.

JUNGWOO É O AMOR DA SUA VIDA?

você concorda com a cabeça enquanto se recompõe. "com toda certeza."

PARA ACHAR O AMOR DE VERDADE, A GENTE PASSA POR POUCAS E BOAS. VOCÊ SE ARREPENDE DE NAMORAR COM O SEU EX?

"não, não o jaehyun." olha em volta, buscando uma reafirmação de que o nome dele seria cortado. "se não fosse ele, eu não teria conhecido o jungwoo." você ri junto com a produção. "não, mas, sério... jaehyun foi um cara legal. ele não foi o cara, mas..." balança os ombros.

ESSA HISTÓRIA É PRA OUTRA HORA.

"mistérios..." você gesticula para a câmera, fungando logo depois, ainda se recuperando do chororô recente. "tem muita história pra contar."

SE VOCÊ NÃO SE ARREPENDE DESSE EX, DE QUEM VOCÊ SE ARREPENDE?

a pergunta te pega completamente desprevenida, fazendo com que engasgasse com a água, tossindo com a ansiedade que a resposta já definida te causou.

"que perguntas são essas, misericórdia." você brinca para esconder o desconforto com as memórias, mas as expectativas da resposta já estão altas.

outra vez, a mudança na linguagem corporal é notada. o jeito que você ajeita a postura e cruza as pernas não passa despercebido pelo time, nem a inquietação nos dedos que batucam o joelho. se antes você estava feliz e relaxada, agora não era mais a mesma.

"vocês me garantem que os nomes não serão expostos?" recebendo a confirmação pela enésima vez, você sorri amargamente. "o meu maior arrependimento sempre vai ser ele, kim doyoung."

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Guided By Voices - Canal Street Tavern, Dayton, Ohio, Sept. 2, 1994

Sometime about 30 years ago, I started reading things about Guided By Voices — primarily in Spin Magazine, I think. That's where a 15-year-old had to go for these things back then, kids! Nothing too huge, just a staff mention here, a single review there. Charles Aaron reported: "GBV singer-songwriter Robert Pollard writes jittery, surging, sideways tributes to John/Paul, Syd Barrett, Lou Reed, Ray Davies, et al, like a teenager in full flush." Sounded enticing!

Then there was Jim Greer, in his A Year In The Life of Rock 'n' Roll column, closing out a long musing on the recently departed Kurt Cobain with this: "I listen a lot these days to 'Exit Flagger' by Guided By Voices, an amazing song written by 37-year-old schoolteacher Robert Pollard in the middle of nowhere, where I live too, like most people, without a whole lot to go on. I quoted part of the lyrics at the beginning of this piece because however Pollard intended the song, it's come to mean a lot more to me since Cobain's death. The song's lyrics end on a tag line after the chorus, which I have never been able to decipher properly. Just before the guitars begin their quick, cathartic crescendo to the fadeout, Pollard can be heard singing either 'Promise to lead you,' or 'Promise to leave you.' Or maybe both. So far it's the closest thing I've come across to a clue in all this mess."

Oddly, Greer would've been able to ask Pollard what those lyrics were very soon; the writer joined GBV as bassist sometime in the summer of '94. He was also engaged to Kim Deal! Jim was leading some kind of indie rock charmed life, it seemed (of course, him and Kim never got married and he didn't last all that long with Pollard and co., but hey).

And what about me?! Well, after reading all of this and more, I finally came across a copy of Bee Thousand that fall at Go-Boy Records in Redondo Beach and took a chance — I don't think I'd heard a note of Guided By Voices yet. And though I was confused at first when I dropped the needle on that bright-red vinyl, by the end I was more or less head over heels. It's hard to re-create in my mind the weird, mysterious beauty of hearing that LP for the first few times, trying to figure out what was going on, but I know it unlocked something. Parallel lines on a slow decline, the story of our lives.

Anyway, here we are 30 years later, and I'm listening to GBV play a typically rowdy hometown show that's packed with Bee Thousand tunes, plus plenty of Alien Lanes tunes (then called Scalping The Guru, as Bob notes), alongside a host of classic numbers that still sound like they've been beamed in from some other, better universe. "Guided By Voices are fucking pussies!" Pollard exclaims bewilderingly in between songs. Hell yeah they are.

[righteousbreakfast]

I think you would like to know that Kim can actually die in the game. It's pretty unserious but if you angry the hardie boys to much you get a game over in wich the hardies kill both Kim and Harry and dump their bodies in the canal to make it look like an accident.

OH FUCK OH NO SHIT

ty for the info...i'm ill now

[airgiodslv]

I chatted with a friend about how to share fanworks on Tumblr, and she suggested it might be too much to share them in individual posts, so here's a monthly wrap-up instead. I'm including late March, because I rewatched KinnPorsche over spring break and it jumpstarted my creativity.

Wikubus, Kim/Chay, rated T

Chay knows that summoning a demon is a bad idea. He knows, okay? There are countless media depictions of what happens when someone decides to bargain with their soul. It never ends well.

It’s just.... There have been a lot of rumors popping up lately in the fan spaces Chay frequents. Comments that suggest Chay’s pop music idol Wik might secretly be a demon.

Specifically, an incubus.

Mafia Wife, Porsche & Chay, background Porsche/Kinn & Kim/Chay, rated G

“Hi, Hia,” Chay chirped. “I’m your backup.”

Porsche was here tonight to meet with a crime boss who’d been cutting into the minor family’s profits. He couldn’t imagine Chay being appropriate backup.

“I have bodyguards,” Porsche reminded him. True, they were Gun’s people. He and Kinn trusted them about as much as they trusted rival crime bosses, but they were trained. They had guns.

Chay had better not have a gun. Porsche gave him a once-over, then squinted. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

bring you to your knees, Kim/Chay, rated G

Kim’s free arm is around his waist, his chest warm down the length of Chay’s spine. They’re pressed so close together that Chay can feel it when Kim huffs out a laugh.

“I thought you wanted to see the cover photo. It’s okay, I cleared it with the magazine. You can look.”

“I can’t,” Chay says, “or I will die.”

Mafia Mistress, Porsche & Kim, rated G

“For the record,” Porsche said, “I’m very uncomfortable with this.”

Beside him, Kim tilted his chin up to give Porsche a withering look. “Do you want to talk about comfort right now? Which of us is wearing heels?”

Guardian, Kim/Chay, rated T

Chay registered the stench of the canal, and the drag of water pulling him slowly, relentlessly down. His clothes were a sodden weight he struggled against as he kicked toward the surface. They hadn't tied his hands and feet.

It didn't matter. He was drowning.

the closer I am to you, Kim/Chay, rated T

“Is this for the mystery sex box?” Porsche asks. He follows Chay to the bedroom and stops in the doorway, looking around with open curiosity.

“It’s not a sex box,” Chay protests.

time to make a choice, Porsche/Kim, background Kim & Kinn & Khun, rated M

Their parents set the wedding date. Kim is officially out of time.

Minor kidnapping & light murder, Kim/Chay & Macau, rated T

Macau gets kidnapped by douchebags right before school. At least he has company. Although this is how he knows it’s amateur hour, because when they grabbed Macau, they took Porchay Kittisawat along with him.

looking back, moving forward, Kim/Chay, Kinn/Porsche, past Porsche/Kim, rated G

“Hia!” Chay can’t resist his curiosity. He’d really thought he’d have to make introductions. “You’ve already met Kim?”

“Kim?” Porsche asks.

“My boyfriend,” Chay explains slowly.

“Your boyfriend,” Porsche repeats.

[justforbooks]

Jimmy Carter

US president whose subsequent decades of tireless humanitarian work brought him the Nobel peace prize

The former US president Jimmy Carter, who has died aged 100, achieved a far more favourable reputation after leaving the White House than he ever secured during his single term of office. Following his electoral defeat in 1980 – when Ronald Reagan beat him by 489 to 49 electoral college votes – his sustained efforts to improve life for the deprived people of the world won him the 2002 Nobel peace prize.

Carter left a mixed heritage from his presidential term. He put human rights firmly on the international agenda, persuaded Congress to cede US control of the Panama canal, demonstrated that peace settlements could be achieved in the Middle East, and completed the second strategic arms limitation treaty with the Soviet Union.

But he was not cut out for the White House. He became the 39th president because he was not Gerald Ford: he was ousted after one term not only because of his administration’s inept handling of the Iranian hostage crisis but because he was overwhelmed by the job.

Carter came into office faced with the continued economic aftermath of the Vietnam war. To meet its burgeoning costs, President Richard Nixon had abandoned the fixed international exchange rate agreed after the second world war and allowed the dollar to float. That immediately imported inflation into the US, exacerbated by the 1973 Yom Kippur war in the Middle East, which provoked Arab oil-exporting nations to quadruple the price of their oil. Carter arrived in Washington with inflation running at 7%. Within 18 months it had climbed to 11.3%.

Oil, which had been $20 a barrel, surged to $107. Carter’s response was to ask the US to curb its profligate use of energy. The plea fell on deaf ears. He then nominated Paul Volcker as chairman of the Federal Reserve Board to deal with the problem. Volcker arrived proclaiming that the US “could not inflate itself out of a recession” and embarked on a ferocious campaign to kill it. The interest figures tell the story: in June 1979 America’s prime rate was 11.5%, by November 15.5%, by March 1980 18.5% and by the end of that year it peaked at 21.5%. During his election campaign Carter had devised what he called the misery index, combining unemployment and inflation. It stood at 13.5 when he was elected. He left the White House with it at 19.9.

He eventually retrieved his reputation by founding the Carter Center in his home state of Georgia and embarking on a vast range of activities designed to defuse international conflict and to introduce democracy and a decent standard of life across the globe.

This took him to countries ranging from Zambia to Peru and from Sudan to Guyana, for such disparate projects as mediating in civil warfare, encouraging sustainable agricultural development, establishing a proper judicial system, or installing a clean water supply. He became a familiar figure at election counts around the globe, part of the international team that sought to ensure that where skulduggery could not be prevented, it was at least well publicised.

With the agreement of the Clinton administration, in 1994 Carter took up an invitation to visit Kim Il-Sung in Pyongyang, and out of their talks came the Agreed Framework, by which North Korea undertook to suspend its nuclear weapons programme in return for increased energy aid from the US. Initial progress was not sustained, and by 2003 relations between the two countries were openly hostile again. In 2008 he was criticised in the US and Israel for urging peace talks involving Syria and Hamas. In August 2010 he returned to North Korea to secure the release of a US citizen, Aijalon Gomes; he visited the country again in 2011, and six years later indicated his willingness to do so once more if called on.

Carter acknowledged that much of the energy he brought to the Carter Center had stemmed from the unexpected frustration of his presidential career. “I don’t think that if I had had two full terms in the White House, I would have launched so ambitious a new career. I would probably have become a professor and written some books.”

Born in Plains, Georgia, Jimmy (James) was the eldest of four children of Lillian (nee Gordy), a nurse, and James Carter, a peanut farmer. He planned a naval career, graduating from the US naval academy in 1946. Then he became involved in the design and development of nuclear power for ships, and later with training seamen to serve in them. This was apparently when he acquired his dogged interest in organisational and functional minutiae.

In 1953, however, the death of his father obliged him to resign his commission to take control of the family business. This sparked an interest in politics and, in 1962, he was elected a state senator. At the end of his four-year term, he ran unsuccessfully for the governorship of Georgia. In 1970 he was elected at his second attempt and began to plan his presidential campaign.

His ambitions coincided with the Watergate scandal and the enforced resignation of Nixon in August 1974. Ford, a Republican congressman from Michigan, had been hand-picked by the beleaguered incumbent as his successor. The electorate, initially neutral about the constitutional niceties of this procedure, erupted in fury when the newly sworn-in President Ford announced an unconditional pardon for his patron. The stage was thus set for Carter’s bid, on the basis that he did not belong to the Washington establishment and that he espoused the simple moral and religious values that the electorate was then seeking.

In the 1976 primaries he easily outpaced his Democratic rivals. But his presidential victory was uncomfortably narrow: he won only 23 of the 50 states and secured less than half the popular vote (excluding Washington DC). His arrival in the White House arose more through the quirks of the electoral college, where he predominated by 297 votes to Ford’s 240. His election showed plainly what became even more starkly evident as his term progressed: that support in the country was marginal and could be eroded by almost any setback. The honeymoon lasted long enough domestically to get the Panama canal treaties ratified in 1978 – no small achievement – and internationally to bring Israel and Egypt to a widely applauded peace settlement in 1979, brokered by Carter.

But the very nature of his electoral campaign quickly rebounded on him. He chose to emphasise the shift from previous administrations by appointing a group of inexperienced assistants to senior posts. Within a short space of time, his budget director, Bert Lance, was forced to resign amid allegations of impropriety – charges that sat ill with Carter’s repeated emphasis on probity. His chief of staff, Hamilton Jordan, became notorious for his poor handling of influential figures on Capitol Hill, a vital factor for any administration, but even more critical in the post-Vietnam, post-Watergate climate in Washington.

Congress, in its own eyes, had been bulldozed into the expansion of the Vietnam war by Lyndon Johnson, grossly affronted by Nixon’s constant claims of executive privilege and eventually by his illegalities, and circumnavigated by Ford’s accession. It had fettered the White House with the War Powers resolution of 1973 and came within a whisker of impeaching the president. It was singularly unimpressed by the arrival of a man whose experience was as a one-term southern governor.

It might have been easier had Carter arrived with a clear political agenda, but he seemed geared to the politics of symbolism rather than substance. In an effort to focus his compatriots’ attention on their profligate use of energy, he addressed the nation wearing a woollen cardigan, which simply drowned the message in derision. His national energy policy was barely recognisable by the time it emerged from Congress.

The international community also found itself with problems caused by the amateurism of the White House. Within six months of taking office, Carter requested funds to develop neutron warheads for missiles deployed in Europe, particularly West Germany. There had been no consultations within Nato, and a row erupted in Europe. The Dutch defence minister resigned and Chancellor Helmut Schmidt of West Germany, faced with demonstrations and parliamentary dissent, publicly dissociated himself from the move. The furore continued for months, until Carter suddenly announced that he had abandoned the idea, having exposed serious rifts within the Atlantic alliance to no useful end.

In spite of alarming the Kremlin with unsignalled proposals for huge cuts in strategic weapons (later abandoned), his administration did manage to negotiate the Salt II (strategic arms limitation talks) agreement, a complex, phased programme of strategic disarmament. But it aroused deep suspicions in the Senate, which had little liking for the president anyway, and the treaty was consequently never ratified.

By now it had become evident to the country that its chief executive was becoming impotent through his insistence on bogging himself down in detail to the extent that he even insisted on drawing up the playing rota for the White House tennis courts. With his popularity waning steeply, particularly after a disastrous television address in which he seemed to saddle the nation with his own uncertainties, Carter was hit by the twin crises that doomed his presidency – the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the fall of the shah of Iran.

Long after he left office, it emerged that much of the blame for the Afghan crisis could, in fact, be laid at his door. In February 1979 the US ambassador in Kabul, Adolph Dubs, was kidnapped and died in a botched rescue attempt by the local police. The Soviet Union was alleged to have been behind the kidnapping and, in retaliation, Carter signed a secret directive on 3 July 1979, authorising the CIA to fund and arm Muslim opponents to the Kabul regime, which the Soviet Union supported.

This decision was later described by Carter’s national security adviser, Zbigniew Brzezinski, as ���giving the Soviet Union its own Vietnam”. Its consequences, including the rise of the Taliban, have clanked unpredictably through the ensuing decades. As US-funded fighting spread rapidly across Afghanistan, the Kabul regime tottered and Moscow decided that the only answer to the destabilisation of its strategically vital southern border was to invade.

Carter, already in deep trouble over the fall of the shah, responded to the Soviet invasion by shooting himself in the foot. With domestic political attention focused on the impending 1980 presidential campaign, he announced an embargo on a portion of US grain exports to the Soviet Union, the prime victims of which were America’s midwestern farmers rather than the USSR.

He did manage to see off the internal party challenge of Senator Edward Kennedy, but slipped badly in the broader race for re-election. He had been unlucky in inheriting the brewing Iranian crisis, but he handled that no better. The shah was entirely the creature of successive US administrations. It was, therefore, self-evident that the dethroned monarch would turn to his patrons in his final crisis and that, conversely, the new Iranian regime would stoke the anti-Americanism built up by his autocratic reign.

The US embassy in Tehran sent repeated warnings of the likely Iranian reaction if the terminally ill shah was allowed into the US, but they were ignored by the White House. Within three weeks of his arrival for medical treatment, the embassy had been seized and 53 of its staff held hostage. A bad situation was made far worse by an ill-conceived and ultimately disastrous attempt to mount a rescue operation. Its chances of success were always slight and were wholly nullified by the combination of equipment failures and excessive interference from above.

Had Carter been held in greater confidence by his countrymen, they might have had more sympathy for his dilemma. He had nothing to bargain with, and it became evident that for Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the fundamentalist Shia cleric who had overthrown the shah, the crisis had become a personal contest. He released the American hostages only at the moment when Carter was succeeded by Reagan.

Carter’s political ambition far outreached his experience or capacity, but his brief sojourn in the Oval office at least gave him the international standing to carry out the humanitarian work for which he will probably be best remembered. With his wife, Rosalynn (nee Smith), whom he married in 1946, he visited more than 140 countries.

He wrote 30 books, including A Call to Action (2014), which addressed discrimination and violence against women, and A Full Life: Reflections at Ninety (2015). Having turned 100 last October, he fulfilled his aim of voting in the presidential election.

Rosalynn died in November 2023. He is survived by their four children, Amy, Jack, Chip and Jeff, 11 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren.

🔔 James Earl Carter, politician, born 1 October 1924; died 29 December 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[lucca-strangee]

lucca vc tem alguns exercícios para ajudar a queimar kcal? Sem ser a caminhada, tipo vídeos, canais, coisas assim

Oioi, anon

Olha, uma coisa que queima bastante é Cardio/Aeróbico, Hiit e Just Dance!

Não vou saber te indicar Just Dance, porque nunca fiz, mas minha amiga transtornada ama, queima uns 600 nisso. Sobre Hiit eu tenho preguiça, mas já fiz um que queimou bastante, tem um canal no YouTube de uma diva Shirlyn Kim, pode ver lá!

Um bom pra te indicar é esse aqui, eu fiz e queima 200 kcal, amo cardio/aeróbico!! :)

[mistiskie]

vc pode fazer um hard hours com o doyoung bemmmmm after care????? Desculpa é que eu PRECISO DISSOO!!!

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀[ doyoung - Hard Hours ]

| oi amor, obrigada por mandar esse pedido! Desculpa a demorinha pra responder, viu?! Espero que goste, não sei muito bem se conseguir escrever um cenário de aftercare digno, mas eu tentei! Boa leitura. Mwah! (Inclusive, os pedidos para Hard hours e headcanons estão abertos!) |

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀★

⠀ ⠀

Seu corpinho treme, totalmente judiado, respira fundo, ronrona baixinho, lamuriando o nome do seu namorado junto com palavras desconexas. Definitivamente, não há jeito melhor de passar um final de semana seguido de um feriado como esse, onde você tem absoluta certeza que não conseguirá andar normalmente no outro dia.

Perdeu as contas de quantas vezes o ato libidinoso perdurou apenas naquele dia, isso porque você é tão insaciável quanto seu próprio namorado, fato esse que contribui bastante para você atingir seu limite das coisas, tipo, o limite do limite.

"Morango…" quase sussurra, relaxando o próprio corpo em cima do namorado.

Dito o comando Doyoung para de imediato, sai de dentro de você, a porra quentinha de outros orgasmos escorrega pelo seu canal, pinga na virilha dele. Os braços envolve em um abraço apertado, sente os dedos deslizarem pela suas costas desnudas em um carinho sem pressa alguma.

"Te machuquei, meu bem?" Pergunta preocupado, a voz saindo arrastada, com preguiça.

nega, se encolhe no corpo maior, deita a cabeça no peitoral que até então respirava ofegante igual você.

"Não Dodo, eu só preciso de um tempinho." Doyoung concorda, sobe os carinhos para seus cabelos e beija seu rosto.

A personalidade de agora contrasta muito com a que Kim Doyoung mostra entre quatro paredes, quem vê esse namorado carinhoso e prestativo jamais pensaria no quão sádico o Kim poderia ser na cama. Isso não era uma reclamação, gostava na verdade, eram iguais, se completavam.

Agora depois de uma sequência de foda violenta ele estava lá te dando todo suporte necessário, aquecia seu coração, deixava com borboletas no estômago, como da primeira vez que o viu.

"Vou te levar pro banho agora, o que acha, hm?" Selou seus lábios. "E depois te faço alguma coisa pra comer, você topa?"

Concorda, não fez força para se levantar porque sabia que Doyoung cuidaria disso, te carregou até o banheiro, pôs você dentro da banheira, sabe até qual sabonete colocar na água. O kim lava seu corpo, te segura entre os braços como se você fosse uma pedra preciosa, o que para ele você realmente é, sabe perfeitamente que é queridinha dele. Gosta de todo aquele carinho pós sadismo incomum e gosta ainda mais de ser tratada assim, sente que é a mulher mais sortuda do mundo e autossuficiente, Doyoung sempre te traz esse conforto.

Na hora de comer você também não move um dedinho sequer, apenas senta na cadeira e o observa cozinhar empenhado, faz seu prato preferido, macarrão com camarão a alho e óleo e um suco de laranja para completar. Garfada por garfada coloca o alimento na sua boca até que não reste mais nada no prato, ele sorri com aqueles dentinhos bem parecidos ao de um Coelho e diz que te ama, é verdade ele ama mesmo. Você sorri de volta, agraciada com todas as ações, mas ainda abusa um pouquinho, pede sobremesa, como quem não quer nada e adivinha? Consegue numa facilidade enorme.

Doyoung não cansa disso, de te encher de carinho, depois ou durante o aftercare, porque você é tão boa pra ele, é a mulher dos sonhos que um dia desejou quando era menor.

"Dodo…"

"Uhm?"

"Eu te amo."

"Eu te amo também, meu bem."

[mutant-distraction]

Kim Bielinski

Canal St, New Orleans

[sygneth]

my absolutely random headcanons that are not tied to anything they just popped in my head unprompted (and i'm not even sorry half of them is about Jean)

(if you read EOE it may be useful knowledge? or not lol)

Judit's husband is a writer, he's semi-successful in his job, probably currently writes articles for some paper or something like that, and works on a novel in his free time.

Harry inherited the apartment he is living in when he was a young adult, so he was, fortunately, wrecking only his own property (but it also implies it's probably still the same apartment since Dora times, oof.)

Jean cannot walk the stairs. Running. is the only option. Hoppin' two steps at a time. Free workout time, yeah?

Piss and Fuck witnessed Harry's kamikaze jump over the canal and I refuse to believe they didn't have that on the back of their minds while checking out Kim's MC on the plaza.

Harry would totally eat pizza with pineapple and say it's the best kind and Kim would totally want to divorce him over it.

Jean totally learned how to play piano when he was young, he probably forgot most of it since though. He probably sings well too.

Jean hates spring & summer seasons due to allergies, he's totally allergic to pollen, not sure if anything else but probably yeah.

Kim is one of those people whose feet get absolutely massacred by each new pair of shoes he tries to wear, so he tends to wear one pair for literal years not to have to struggle with a new one.

Play a late '00s pop dancing song (like Kesha or Lady Gaga) to slightly drunk Jean and see what happens (everybody has guilty pleasures, right)

Before becoming a cop Jean tried to study... something. Or more than one something, but nothing slapped (fuck yeah depression), so he decided to go RCM because eh.

Kim's hair has a magical ability (or maybe he's just not cheap on his hair products...) to stay neatly combed regardless of the circumstances. He could get into a most violent fistfight and still play in a hair product commercial afterward.

Jude has an older brother.

When Plaisance and Annette move out from Martinaise, Annette will switch schools to the same where Mikael is going. I need them to be friends who will nerd about books and games and computers.

[originallandlockedmariner]

2023

Pickleball. Generative AI. Lula takes office in Brazil, Amazon Rainforest throws a party. Prince Harry refusing to stop talking about his frozen penis no matter how many times society begged him to stop. UFOs are real. Viral cat dubbed ‘largest cat anyone has ever seen’ gets adopted. Pee-Wee’s big adventure ends. Musk & X. Turkey-Syria earthquake kills thousands. India surpasses China as ‘country squeezing in the most peeps’. Tucker Carlson ousted. Miss USA and her 30 lbs moon costume. Wildfires in Kelowna and Hawaii. Macron tinkers with retirement age of the French. Paltrow can’t ski. Big Red Boots. Bob Barker leaves us. Alabama mom delivers 2 babies from her 2 uteruses in 2 days. Charles III. Ukrainian counteroffensive against Russian forces as the war drags on. Taylor Swift is Time’s Person of the Year. African ‘coup belt’. Flo-Jo dies in her sleep. Chinese spy balloon shot down. Hollywood writers strike. Human ‘nice mugshot’ Shitstain and his 91 indictments. Highest interest rates in 2 decades. The Bear’s Christmas episode. War in Gaza. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Alex Murdaugh. Ocean Cleanup removes 25 000 lbs of trash from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Vase purchased for $3.99 sells for $100 000 at auction. Barbenheimer. A third of Pakistan is flooded. Lionel Messi is the GOAT. Travis Kelce. The Sphere opens in Las Vegas. Regulators seized Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank, resulting in two of the three largest bank failures in U.S. history. “The Woman In Me”. WHO declares COVID ain’t a thing no more. Titan sub sinks, rich people die. Matthew Perry drowns. Dumbledore Dies (again). Massive sales of ‘Fuck Trudeau’ flags for jacked-up micro-dick trucks. Everything Everywhere All At Once. June-August was the hottest three-month period in recorded history across the Earth. Tina Turner dies. And the Beatles release a new song?! Wow… You got big shoes to fill 2024.

Archives for context:

2020

Kobe. Pandemic. Lockdown. Koalas on fire. Harry and Meg retire. Toilet paper hoarding. Alcoholism. Impeach the f*cker. Parasite. Bonnie Henry. Tiger King. Working from home. Sourdough bread. Harvey Weinstein guilty. Zoom overdose. Dip your body in sanitizer. 6 feet. Quarantine. OK Boomer. Home schooling (everyone passes). Murder hornets. Dolly Parton. Don’t hug, kiss or see anybody, especially your family. Chris Evans’ junk. TikTok. Glory holes. Face masks. CERB. West Coast wildfires. Stay home. Small Businesses lose, big box stores win. F*ck Bozos. ‘Dreams’ and cranberry juice. Close yoga studios, but thumbs up to your local gym. Speak moistly to me. George Floyd. BLM. F*ck Trump. Phase 2, 3 and Summer. RBG. Baby Yoda. Biden wins. Bond and Black Panther die. No more lockdown. Back to school and work. Just kidding... giddy up round 2. Giuliani leaks shit from his head. Resurgence of chess. UFOs are real. Restrictions. Dave Grohl admits defeat. Monolith. “F*ck... forgot my mask in the car”. No Christmas shenanigans allowed. Bubbles. Alex Trebek. Use the term ‘dumpster fire’ one too many times. Jupiter and Saturn form 'Christmas Star'. Happy New Year Bitches!!!! 2021... you better not sh*t the bed!!

2021

“We love you, you’re very special”. Failed coup attempt at the Capital. Twitter, FB and IG ban Donny. Hammerin’ Hank goes to the Field of Dreams. Bozo no longer richest man but still a twat. Leachman, Tyson, and Holbrook pass. The economy is worse than expected. Kim and Kanye split. Brood X cicadas. Dre has an aneurysm and nearly has his home broken into. Bridgerton. MyPillow CEO is a douche. Covid restrictions extended indefinitely. Captain Von Trapp dies. Proud Boys officially a Terrorist Organization. Richard Ramirez. Cancer takes Screech. Travel bans. Impeachment trial (again?… oh and this was barely February? WTF??!!) Suez Canal blockage. Myanmar protest. Kong dukes it out with Godzilla, while Raya watches. Olympics. Friends compare elective surgeries. F9. Canada Women’s Soccer Gold. Free Britney. Multiverses. Residential Schools in Canada unearth children’s bodies. Kate is Mare of Easttown. Cuomo resigns. Disney and Dwayne cruise together. Wildfires. Delta variants. Musk passes Bezos. Candyman x 5. Capt. Kirk goes to space. F*ck Kyle Rittenhouse. Astros didn’t win. Squid Game. Goodbye Bond. Dune is redone. Angelina is Eternal. Astroworld deaths. Meta. Omicron. Three Spidermen. Tornados in December? World Juniors cancelled. Pills against Covid. School opening delayed. And Betty White dies. 2022… my expectations are ridiculously low…

2022

Wow… eight billion people. Queen Elizabeth II passes away after ruling the Commonwealth before dirt was invented. The monkeypox. Russia plays the role of global a**hole. Wordle. Mother Nature rocks Afghanistan. Hover bike. Styles spits on Pine. Olivia Newton John, Kristie Alley, and Coolio leave us. Pele was traded to team Heaven. FTX implodes. Madonna and the 3-D model of her vagina. Pig gives his heart to a human. Beijing can brag that it is the first city ever to host both the Summer Olympics and Winter Olympics. Uvalde. $3 trillion Apple. Keith Raniere gets 120 years. The Whisky War ends with Canada and Denmark going halfsies. Mar-a-Lago. Nick Cannon brood hits a dozen. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Inflation goes through the roof (if you can actually afford to put a roof over your head). Volodymyr Zelensky. European heat wave. Bennifer. Salman Rushdie is stabbed on stage, Dave Chappelle tackled, and Chris Rock is only slapped. Thích Nhất Hạnh. Heidi Klum goes full slug. Cuba knocked out by Ian. Liz Truss and 4.1 Scaramuccis. Taylor Swift breaks Ticketmaster. Human shitstain Elon Musk ignores helping mankind and buys Twitter instead. Riri becomes a mommy. NASA launches Artemis 1. Trump still a whiny little b*tch. Music lost Loretta Lynn, Christine McVie, and Meat Loaf. Democracy died at least three times. Pete Davidson continues to date hottest women on the planet (no one understands how?!) Microplastics in our blood. Alex Jones is a c*nt. So is DeSantis. Argentina wins the World Cup. Meghan and Harry. Eddie Munson rips Metallica in the Upside Down. tWitch. Roe vs Wade is overturned by the micro dick energy of the Supreme Court. CODA. James Corden shows he is a "tiny Cretin of a man". Amber (and the sh*t on the bed) Heard (round the world). Sebastian Bear-McClard proves he’s one of the f*cking dumbest men alive. Latin America's ‘pink tide’. Anti-Semitic rants by Ye. Bob Saget. A verified blue checkmark. Godmother of punk Vivienne dies. And, Tom Cruise feels the need for speed yet again. 2023… whatcha got for us?!? Nothing shocks me anymore.

@daily-esprit-descalier