#L.E.J.
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permanentstyle · 10 months ago
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https://www.permanentstyle.com/2024/01/cifonelli-jacket-finding-a-new-home-for-good-things.html
Cifonelli jacket: Finding a new home for good things
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aimmyarrowshigh · 2 years ago
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@booksandabeer tagged me in a music meme! Thank you so much!
when u get this u have to put 5 songs 🎵 u actually listen to, publicly. then, send this to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) ✨
And I WOULD put "Music To Make the Boys Cry" by Diana Vickers, because it is among the best songs of ALL TIME, but Spotify just made it unlistenable in the US, which is a HATE CRIME, so...
And I'm going to tag @bebeocho @rhubarbdreams @fille-lioncelle @puzzlebean and @gloryhalleloujah!
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mhvy · 9 months ago
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fidjiefidjie · 3 months ago
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Bon Matin 🆕️ 🎻🥁 💟
L.E.J 🎶 Summer 2024
(Volume II)
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bttrflyblu · 6 months ago
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L.E.J - La Bohème
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culturefrancaise · 11 months ago
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There is no fairness in terrorism.
Despite it all, we keep on living.
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I’ve been quite out of it these past couple of days but now I feel more like myself and I need to put everything down. So here it goes, The Paris Attacks. How I lived that night and the day(s) that followed.
I live in Paris. I woke up on Friday the 13th feeling good and actually happy. It was World’s Kindness Day and I had had one of the best nights of my life. I spent the day on a cloud, being carefree and giggling like a 13 year old.
I was supposed to meet a friend at a theater at 8pm, but he ran a bit late and we couldn’t get tickets. The theater was over-crowded. We got tickets for the 9pm showing instead, and went to grab a beer. We sat outside, and talked, laughed, reinvented the world for an hour. Then we went back to the theater. Sat down. Turned our phones off.
45 minutes into the movie, I saw people suddenly getting up, almost running out of the room, their phones glued to their ears. I thought “c’mon, the movie is pretty shitty, but you paid 10€ to see it, the fuck are you doing leaving not even half way through it?!”. Waited 10 more minutes. More people were getting up, phone clutched in hand. I started having a bad feeling.
So I turned my phone on. It blew up with notifications. Missed calls, texts, voice mails, you have it. I quickly scrolled through them.
“why aren’t you picking up your fucking phone??? WHERE ARE YOU?”.
“tell me you’re safe at home”
“Tell me you’re not anywhere near the shootings??????”
“Wherever you are, DON’T MOVE”
“Just tell me that you’re okay I don’t know where you are!”
“I’m feeling scared, can I call you?”
“PICK UP THE PHONE”
“Hun there’s been several attacks, I know you’re at the theater so don’t get out of there and stay put”
“Your phone goes straight to voice mail, tell me you’re at home please!”
“Bombs and shooting all over Paris, where are you?”
I remember feeling cold, thinking “not again please please please not again” and gripping my friend’s arm. Started reading him some of the messages. The guy on my other side told me to shut up, he couldn’t hear the movie. I looked at the screen and James Bond was blowing shit up, guns being fired all over the screen. I thought “this is unreal”. I tried to look up the news on my phone but I couldn’t get a signal strong enough in the theater.
Then my phone rang. My Mom. I ran out of the room on shaky legs. There were people outside on their phones, running their hands through their hair. I told my Mom I was safe, that nothing was happening where I was, that she could go to bed and that I would let her know when I was home safe.
Truth is, I had no idea what was exactly going on. I didn’t know if I could even get home. I don’t remember hanging up but I remember shaking and having difficulties breathing. Not being able to type properly to answer my friends’ texts. I think there was an announcement at some point in the theater, telling us that it was safer to stay inside  than trying to go home. I remember the fear, the worry, the distress, the not-quite panic, not yet. All we knew is that they were targeting public places and that we were in one of the biggest cinemas in Paris, full of people.
After a while we got outside. We just wanted to get behind closed doors. Our closed doors. There were rumors that there was a shooting going on in Les Halles and another one on the Trocadero. I live on the Troca and had to go through Les Halles to get there. I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t get to my safe place.
My friend told me we would get to his place, which was closer, and stay there for the night. We took the metro, which was miraculously still running. It was so empty. There was a woman, who looked completely haggard. 3 young men, joking and shoving at each other “DUUUUDE we were near the Bataclan just earlier, it so could’ve been us, maaaan”.
We got out of the metro and ran. There were people yelling at us from their windows. Telling us to get inside, asking if we had somewhere to go, shouting the code of their buildings. There were sirens screaming through the night, flashing blue lights speeding near us in a blur. I more or less remember calling my best friend, telling her I was okay, thanking whoever might be listening that she lived far far away from Paris. I got a notification from Facebook asking me if I was safe. I remember laughing. The kind of nervous laugh that takes you by surprise. No, I don’t know, am I? I’m still on the streets, where are they?
We finally got to my friend’s place and we collapsed in each other’s arms. He turned on the TV and that’s when we really realized. The anchor man was saying that the president had spoken earlier, that the state of emergency had been declared. What does that even mean? Hadn’t the last state of emergency been declared during the Algerian War? War is such a scary word.
I started shooting texts to friends I hadn’t heard of yet. Called my Mom again. Another friend who was home and scared. Before I knew it, my phone died on me. I had no way to contact the couple of friends who hadn’t replied yet. The one who lives near the Bataclan. The girl from my class who was celebrating her 25th birthday in a bar in the 10th arrondissement. I later learned that she spent 2 hours face down on the floor, in silence and in the dark, waiting for the all clear.
So we watched the news and waited. Waited for the assault on the Bataclan to be over. Waited for the sirens outside to stop – they didn’t. When nothing could be done anymore besides watching the number of the dead go up and up and up, we curled up on te couch with a blanket and watched a movie. The Empire Strikes Back. Something we knew and loved. I guess I fell asleep at some point, thinking that I couldn’t fathom how my day could have started so well and ended so wrong.
I woke up on Saturday morning and switched the TV on again. Watched it in a near catatonic state for hours. It was always the same thing. The same videos. The same arguments. Only the death toll was changing.
Around noon I decided to go home, if only to get my charger for my phone. The streets were eerily quiet. I saw heavily armed cops walking around. I saw a child running around and playing with a small dog on a playground. It made me smile. Life was still going.
I sat in front of a lady in the metro. She nodded at me and asked if I was okay. We usually don’t do that. We usually avoid everyone’s gaze in the metro. But it felt good. She gave me strength.
Outside, the streets were still empty. I had never seen the Trocadero and the areas surrounding the Eiffel Tower so deserted. I hurried home, shut the door behind me and cried. My safe place, fucking finally.
I got online. Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr. I saw so much support, I saw how much help was being offered, how much empathy. People all over the world sending well wishes. Images of Parisians queuing to give their blood, being sent home because the banks were already full. The hashtag #VoyageAvecMoi going strong, for POC and Muslims who were scared of taking public transports alone. It helped so much. It gave me hope, and it made me proud.
But I also saw stuff like “well now white people know what it feels like!” “French people should be ashamed! Look at all the support thrown their way when nobody is talking about Beirut/Baghdad/Japan/You name it!” “Don’t #Pray/StandForParis, #Pray/StandForTheWorld! Paris had it better than others!”
Do you have you any idea what it feels like to read this? I should be ashamed? I had it better? I’m white so it’s a sort of righteous retribution? Do those people not realize what they are saying? Is it my fault how the media responded? I’m generally-speaking all for #StandForTheWorld. We all should thrive towards peace for every single person on this planet. But right now, that night, #StandForParis was the #BlackLivesMatter of #AllLivesMatter. That night, that terrible, horrifying night, all we could think of was ourselves. And that’s not selfishness. That’s what terror does to you. Seeing #StandForParis meant that we, Parisians, were not alone. That people cared about us, about our city, about our home. Yes, Paris is mostly a white city, in a rich country, but how does that make the people living there monsters whose pain should be undermined? There is no fairness in terrorism.
We didn’t ask for any of this. Innocent people were killed. In January, they attacked a symbol. It hurt, it did. It hurt our values, what France stands for. But it didn’t feel the same. On Friday, they attacked us. The people. People who were enjoying themselves, going to a football game, to a concert, on a date, eating at a restaurant, drinking a beer, celebrating their fucking birthdays. Carefree, utterly innocent people. It could have been me. I was outside at a bar that evening, I was in a very public space, I was just like those people who died for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course I feel more strongly for what’s happening just where I live. But don’t tell me I should be ashamed of myself for embracing the support thrown my way. I didn’t ask for the attacks, I didn’t ask for the support, but I still got both. I, a 23 year old student, didn’t ask officials over the world to light up their most famous buildings with the colors of the French flag. But they did. And I’m thankful. Does that mean that I don’t care about what’s happening elsewhere? No. Does that mean that I don’t feel like the international response is way more overwhelming for France than it is and has been for other countries? No. Does this prove once again that geopolitics govern the world? Yeah. Is it unfair that 130 dead in Paris makes a lot more noise than 400 in Syria or Irak? Yes. But is it right to dismiss French people’s grief and spit at us for being thankful? Definitely not. Let us mourn, let us grieve. Let us bury our dead. There will be time later for analysis.
We’re scared. Some claim they aren’t. Good for them, I’m impressed. I know I will be for a while. Not being scared after that night is unthinkable for me. It doesn’t make me a coward. I might be scared, but I’m not going to stop living. I’ll still go out with my friends. I’ll still take walks along the river Seine banks and I’ll still bitch about twisting my ankles on the cobblestones. I’ll still get excited about the smell of chocolate croissants and complain about the price. I’ll still look at the Eiffel Tower at night and think “ Ça a quand même de la gueule.” Paris is still beautiful, and I’m still alive.
FLUCTUAT NEC MERGITUR
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mommahughes19-23 · 5 months ago
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love listening to them when I do edits!
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lz-didyounotice · 8 months ago
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Simplement Humain [Part 1]
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Heyyyy! How are you lots? Following up the episodes of "Human Nature" and "The Familly of Blood", this fic will be in 2 parts. As in the original, Martha will be part of the trip, but will only consider the Doctor as a friend. Next up, will be a time paradox episode. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!
Froggit-
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Part 1 , Part 2
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Warnings : English is not my first language. Angst on some parts, but mostly fluff. Martha is not in love with the doctor. Preheastablished relationship.
Translations : "Simplement humain" : Merely human.
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Two months had swiftly passed since you had started your role as a nurse at the Farringham School for boys. Martha diligently fulfilling her duties as a maid to Mister John Smith, while you navigated the halls alongside Joan Redfern, the school matron. 
Despite the woman’s kindness, your heart ached witnessing the unfair treatment Martha had to endure from her. While recognizing the societal norms of the era, it pained you deeply to witness your friend being the subject to such remarks. Though you longed to defend her honor, the fear of jeopardizing your employment forced you to a silent support, offering her solace whenever possible.
In the bustling corridors of the school, your presence remained veiled from the Doctor's awareness. To him, you were merely the assistant to the school nurse, a captivating woman with (H/C) tresses whose charm had begun to catch his attention. Concealing the depth of your feelings had proven to be challenging, each interaction with him reigniting what had been lost for several weeks now.
Your initial encounter had him wondering how someone he could have met for the first time could possibly feel so familiar. There was definitely something more to you, yet he couldn’t quite place it. This mystery made him want to know you even more, pry into your life in a more private way. And with each smile, he barely could hold his heart in place anymore.
With the passage of weeks, casual conversations evolved into a daily rendezvous, as if fate conspired to draw you closer. Martha, attuned to the subtle cues of affection between you and the Doctor, became a confidante in your clandestine courtship. Like two lovesick souls navigating the maze of emotions, your longing for one another grew palpable with each passing day.
—---------------------------
In the present moment, the confines of John's study provided quite the intimate setting as you meticulously sewed his scalp back together.
Upon discovering him struggling with an armful of books, you had extended your assistance, seizing the opportunity to learn more about the other. However, a casual mention of an upcoming dance at the vintage hall precipitated John's inadvertent tumble down the stairs, necessitating your immediate attention. As you deftly maneuvered the needle, John winced in discomfort, lamenting the pain.
"Stay still," you chided gently, your fingers working deftly to complete the final stitches. "You'll reopen the wound if you keep fidgeting."
"It hurts," John grumbled, his features contorted in anguish.
Acknowledging his discomfort, you offered reassurance, " I'm almost finished, just bear with me a little longer, Mister Smith."
Before you could secure the final knot, the door bursted open, admitting a visibly distressed Martha. Focused on your hands, John barely registered her arrival, his gaze flickering upwards momentarily. "Is he alright?" Martha inquired anxiously.
Completing the task at hand, you turned towards Martha, a reassuring smile adorning your lips. "He'll be fine, just needed a few stitches. No signs of concussion, if this was your concern."
“Thank you for taking care of him.”
Returning her gratitude with a wink, you snipped the thread with precision, signifying the completion of your task. Martha's relief was immense, by you attending his care there was little to no worry. In a bid to make amends for her abrupt intrusion, she volunteered in tidying the study, suggesting a reorganization of the many books strewn across the tables.
Observing your meticulous actions from his vantage point, John couldn't help but marvel at your grace and competence. "Perhaps you should rest for the remainder of the day, Mister Smith," you suggested, concerned for his well-being. "We wouldn't want you getting worse by tomorrow."
“Thank you again for dealing with this.” John acknowledged while pointing at the back of his head.
"It's all part of my duty," you reassured him, a sense of satisfaction permeating your demeanor.
Turning his attention toward his maid, John resumed their earlier discourse, starting to rumble once more. “So… I was just telling this Noble Matron, about my dreams, they are quite remarkable tales, hum”. As he continued he wasn’t even looking at Martha anymore, his gaze drifting once more toward you. “I keep imagining that I'm someone else and that I'm in hiding.”
Of course, in your little talks after school days, Martha had told you about him getting those weird ‘Dreams’. As if his memories began to bleed through, despite the chameleon arc. 
“Hiding in what way?” You inquired, wanting him to take his attention off the stitches going down his skull.
“But almost every night” A smile formed on his lips. He was grateful for you to listen, and yet he couldn’t help but think that perhaps those crazy stories should be kept secret. “This is gonna sound silly” Shucking his head from side to side, he wondered if you would even be interested in this madness. 
“ Please, tell me,” Gently placing your hand on his shoulder, you encouraged him to continue, to let loose what seemed to have been eating at him.
“I dream quite often that I have two hearts.” 
“Well, I could be the judge of that, let’s find out.” Taking your stethoscope, you placed it on his first heart. Slightly bending over him, you felt yourself getting dangerously close to his face. Checking for yet another pulse, you only were met with silence. “I can confirm the diagnosis, only one heart.”
Standing up, you took the chance to put away the stethoscope, while John continued about his dreams. Looking over at his desk, at the small notebook neatly folded on it, he wondered about sharing his work with you. “I’ve written some of these dreams in the form of fiction, not that it would be of any interest”
“On the contrary, I would be very interested.” 
Standing up from his seat, He started to go toward his desk, putting some paper covering the book away. Finally fishing it out, he handed it over to you, indulging you into opening it. “ I’ve Never shown them to anyone before.” 
Passing through the different pages, you could only smile as you saw his handwriting. The small drawings, making it even more endearing, for each story had its illustration. “Look at these creatures, such imagination, ” You complimented.
“Yeah, quite a hobby”
“That’s wonderful.” Turning to the next page, you pointed out the beautiful face of a blond girl in the middle of text. ”Quite an eye for pretty girls”. John felt his cheek flare up as he told you about who he had remembered to be Rose. Looking into her wonderful eyes, you could only see why the doctor seemed so distraught the first week you had spent traveling with him. That blond girl was a sight for sore eyes. 
As you stared at the next page, you thought your mind had been playing tricks on you. Pictured on the whole page, was the perfect portrait of your younger self. He had remembered her to be called Louise, yet didn’t seem to know who she was. He had come across her once and had managed to remember her every trait. Looking behind the girl, an army of what you had assumed to be sontaariens, seemed to follow. 
Turning your attention to the next page, you came across a peculiar frame, he seemed excited to show you the drawing he had made of the TARDIS. “Oh! That's the blue box, it always seems to be there” Stars shining in his eyes as he explained. “Like a magic carpet, this fun little box seems to transport me to faraway places.”
“She’s beautiful...” You whispered with a slight smile. Fingers softly drifting on the colored paper.
“Sometimes I wonder how wonderful life could be if any of this was true” 
“If it ever was true, could I perhaps get away with you?”
John seemed to be surprised by your wonders. “Why would you want to get away?”
Giving him a soft yet shy smile, you answered with an open heart. “I don’t know, the stars seem too beautiful to be explored alone.”
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Gun practice constituted an integral component of the boys' curriculum, a fact that left you unsettled as you observed John, the Doctor, instructing them in firearm usage. His usual aversion to violence starkly contrasted with the scene unfolding before you. In your mind, he was supposed to be the embodiment of pacifism, relying on his trusty screwdriver to resolve conflicts, always giving a second chance even to the most vile creatures. Yet here he stood, imparting lethal skills to impressionable young minds.
Your concern peaked as you witnessed Timmy's unfortunate mishap, prompting Redfern to spring into action, orchestrating medical aid for the injured boy. Following Tim from the corner of his eyes, John had soon remarked on your presence on the small elevated platform. 
Coming your way, he seemed to be holding the brightest smile. “Ahh! Nurse Noble,”
“Hello, Mister Smith.” You replied with a small smile. Rearranging some hairs behind your ear, you felt a soft blush creeping its way up your cheeks. “I have finished reading your journal. I have to admit I quite liked it. I- I was wondering if you could tell me more about them?” You started a little hesitant. “Perhaps on a walk after school?” 
His initial surprise soon gave way to enthusiasm, and he readily accepted your proposition. "Let me fetch my coat," he offered, eager to spend more time in your company.
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Walking alongside him through the tranquil streets of town, you savored the rare moment of intimacy shared between you and John. Discussing his drawings and the visions he hoped to capture within them, you found yourself captivated by the melodic timbre of his voice.
As John delved into his dreams, you were taken aback by his unanticipated honesty regarding your presence in some of his sketches. His admiration for you, evident in his words, caused your heart to flutter with a mixture of delight and bashfulness. Blushing profusely, you remarked, "I never imagined I'd be inspiring such dreams, Mister Smith..."
With a sheepish expression, John appeared equally flustered, attempting to divert attention from this unwanted revelations. "I... I tend to ramble, don't I?" he mumbled, his cheeks tinted with a hue mirroring your own.
“I found it rather charming.” You confessed, edging closer to his side. Trying to see what had caught his attention, you didn't have the time to react. He had already taken the cricket ball of a small child's hand, chucking it into a pile of metallic pipes. This had them fall onto a sort of catapult, sending a leftover brick to knock over a rather large barrel. This all stopping a stroller from getting crushed by an originally pristine piano.
Uttering a single word—"Lucky"—John's incredulous expression diminishing the pride he felt in his accidental heroism. Observing his clueless demeanor, you couldn't help but marvel at his innocence, even in moments of unexpected bravery.
“Miss Noble, may I invite you to the village dance this evening- As my guest” He finally let out as if he did not come to wake up a third eye.
“You, extraordinary man.-”
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“Tell me Miss Noble, you’ve never really talked about your interests. You seem to like astrology, but I can’t help but wonder about those small songs you’ve been humming in the hallway the other day.” Inquired John as he leaned closer to you, sitting beside you on the sofa.
“I didn’t think someone was listening.” Looking over at him, you felt the tips of your ears burn.
“It was quite charming.” He complimented, with a small smile. “Perhaps you could share some of your writings with me.” 
Bewitched by his pleading gaze, you found yourself unable to resist his request, even if the songs you were singing were only expressions of your feelings for him. His sincere curiosity drew on your sensitive cords and you only could indulge in his wish. 
Thinking back to one of those songs, you saw yourself hunched over his face, slowly stroking his hair as sleep had fallen upon the both of you. A rare occurrence you could only have cherished, softly singing into his ears, a song you had written for him, a candid reminder of your love.
“Promise me to not laugh. I think it’s one of the silliest songs I could have written. It’s not even in English.” You confessed, feeling a flutter of nervousness.
Gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, John's gaze intensified, his heart quickening. "Why would I laugh? You've listened to me talk about some rather unlikely adventures. It couldn't be as bad."
While trying to find your voice, you discovered in his eyes the will to stop doubting. In a sweet but powerful voice, you found the courage to address every word to John as you did with the Doctor. It seemed easier to think that he was always there, by your side.  While the Doctor knew all the languages of the cosmos, John could barely grasp any of them. It intrigued him. The knowledge you seemed to carry, made him want to know you in even more intimate ways.
“J'avoue j'en ai bavé pas vous, Mon amour Avant d'avoir eu vent de vous, Mon amour Ne vous déplaise, En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions, Le temps d'une  Chanson”
As the sound of your voice reached his ears, his heart skipped a beat. If he wasn’t already drunk with your sent, the melody you shared made him lose all his means. His breath, cut off by the beauty you were holding.
“À votre avis qu'avons-nous vu De l'amour? De vous à moi vous m'avez eu Mon amour Ne vous déplaise En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”
And as the next lyrics came to you, you could only look at him like you did the first time you ever sang to him. Your eyes, softening, love spilling out of every and each breath you took. Getting closer to him, your most beautiful smile making it's way on your lips.
“Hélas avril en vain me voue À l'amour J'avais envie de voir en vous Cet amour Ne vous déplaise, En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”
Your bodies, getting closer to one another each passing seconds. His hand, reaching out for yours as he got lost in your eyes. You, trying to lean in on his chest, hand gently brushing the fabric of his suit. Eyeing his lips more and more, contemplating the feeling of them again yours.
“La vie ne vaut d'être vécue Sans amour Mais c'est vous qui l'avez voulu Mon amour Ne vous déplaise En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”
As your singing came to an end, you could feel the other so close, noses almost touching, while a small space was given for the one who wanted to escape.
Looking at him for approval, you only had time to take a small breath, your lips getting captured by his, in a passionate yet timid kiss. His hand resting on his thigh, he seemed so afraid to break you, seeing you in this exact moment as the most fragile thing he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Closing your eyes, you finally got lost in one another. And had you barely left his lips, you could see how shy he had become.
“I have never-”
Without saying a word, you got closer once more, capturing his lips in a much fierier kiss. It was as if you wanted to enter his vital space, your hand gently reaching his cheek needing to keep him under your sway for a moment longer without having to worry about what might well happen around the both of you.
But as he began to lean further into you, that damned door ended your ministration. His lips moving away from yours, you had finally heard him raise his voice against the poor Martha, trying to get her out of the office. 
Looking over your shoulder, you felt your heart squeeze, her apron disappearing behind the door in pure embarrassment. But as your attention was spiked by this intrusion, you felt your cheeks become a different shade of red, the intense gaze of John’s eyes slowly returning to you.
Trying to get out of this uncomfortable state, you let out what seemed to be a poor excuse at first. But seeing the time getting dangerously close to the one you were to attend the dance, it didn’t seem as far-fetched as you thought. “I do believe it’s getting late. I better go get something to change into.”
“Good idea” Hearing the sad undertone to his words you gave him a gentle smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” 
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Hidden away in the dim confines of a small shed, you found solace in the company of the TARDIS, her interior a sanctuary despite her slumbering state.
Perusing the array of dresses adorning her walls, you marveled at their beauty, eventually settling on a stunning (Y/F) Greek-inspired gown. Adorned with delicate embellishments and layers of luxurious fabric, the dress exuded an ethereal charm that complemented your figure flawlessly. 
With meticulous care, you selected the perfect accessories—a pair of comfortable shoes and an ornate headband—before hastily arranging your hair and applying a touch of makeup.
When you finally got back, only half an hour had passed, and as John appeared in the frame, all you could see was how wonderful he looked in his brand new suit. Showing him the bag containing your dress, he led you to the bathroom, leaving you to change into your evening attire. Thanking him, you quickly disappeared,swiftly donning the exquisite attire, even adjusting some of the bottom ruffles to make them look a bit more voluminous. 
Struggling to fasten the buttons at the back of your dress you could only feel more frustrated by the seconds. Knowing you would probably be struggling for a few more minutes, you knew you needed John's assistance. Venturing through the corridors in search of him, you stumbled upon his partially open door, the soft glow of light emanating from within. 
Knocking gently, you entered cautiously, holding your top even closer to your chest. "Mister Smith? I seem to require your assistance..."
Meeting his gaze, you were met with a mixture of concern and curiosity as you struggled to conceal yourself behind your dress. 
“I can’t seem to reach the back… Could you perhaps help me out?” Your bare back now facing him, you were almost scared to feel his fingers on your skin. The cold yet warm touch of his fingers gently and efficiently buttoned up the back. Hearing the soft shift of the couch, you finally felt his hands, sending your back shivering as his breath tickled your neck.
“You look beautiful tonight Miss Noble.” He murmured, his eyes filled with admiration.
“Oh, please I told you to call me (Y/N)” you chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.
“Then, in this case, you may as well call me John.” John replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he completed the task.
Facing him, you couldn’t help yourself but get lost in those deep brown eyes. They were the eyes of a man you had sworn to love until your very last breath. A man you couldn’t even resist, who would have you wrapped around his fingers as long as he would exist. 
Bringing you back to earth, you felt his fingers brushing against your cheek, and lean into it, even reaching up his hand with yours to keep it against your skin. This moment could have lasted an eternity, you wouldn’t have minded. You, kissing the palm of his hand with the softest lips, him getting hypnotized by your endless (E/C) eyes. 
As you started to get closer, you couldn’t help the gut feeling of something bad only awaiting to happen. As much as you wanted to kiss him, you couldn’t stop it from invading your mind. Perhaps this night would be the last you would spend with him.
“John, I-” This couldn’t have been a worse moment, the loud sound of the door getting in the way of you both being so close. Martha tried to not panic, as much as it was difficult, practically out of breath. Looking up from her knees, the girl stared at you in distress, giving you a look you knew too well.
John seemed lost. Martha could have been forward in the past, but not to such an extent. “Martha-” Stopping John from giving her yet another lecture, you tried to keep calm and gave her directions. “Not now John. Martha, look in my bag, it’s under the sink. The key (Sonic) is under a fake layer at the bottom.”
“(Y/N) What’s going on?” Ignoring his request, you gave a reassuring nod to Martha before turning around to face John, letting the girl get out of the room. “What’s going on? You're scaring me.” 
Taking a deep breath, you tried to find your words, not knowing how to tell him what was going to happen. “John…” You took his hand in yours. “My beautiful John… As much as I would like to pretend, I am as scared as you are. I had hoped to have a better moment to tell you this, but I don’t have that much time left.” 
Trying to make sense out of your words, John could only think of you, having to go somewhere far away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“I only found out about it this morning. They are sending me to an abroad school. Martha had been helping me get the paperwork together.” Trying to disguise the truth, you didn't mention the distressed look Martha bore as she exited the study.
The teacher felt his heart shatter “Is this our last night together then?”
“I’m afraid it is.” As much as you wanted to control the tear going down your cheek, you felt your heart break when his hand got to the side of your face. “I’m sorry to have not told you this earlier. I just… I just wanted to have one more normal day by your side.”
“It’s okay…” Leaning forehead to forehead, you passed your hand on the collar of his suit, straightening the already perfect fabric. Not wanting to give in to the tears, John tried to lift the spirit: “ We still got a few hours together. What do you say? Should we go now?”
“I think It’s a wonderful idea.”
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nekonom26 · 6 months ago
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Rating:
Mature
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
Relationship:
Alastor/Lucifer Magne | Morningstar
Characters:
Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Lucifer Magne | Morningstar
Additional Tags:
Cannibalism
inspired by a song
la dalle by l.e.j
Lucifer Magne | Morningstar Has a Vagina
lot of culinary reference
Alastor is hungry
and horny
the tension is thick
nothing happen
but they both wish to have the most nasty sex ever
Language: Français
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keemeekaal · 2 years ago
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🩷 THE BALANCE ;)
▪︎ pas peur by L.E.J & @levitateme
• S ●● N & @banbino84
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permanentstyle · 2 years ago
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https://www.permanentstyle.com/2023/03/the-next-talk-with-rubato-and-pop-up-shop-updates.html
The next talk with Rubato, and pop-up shop updates
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hangorin · 4 months ago
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オンライン集会「パリ五輪まであと一か月!カウンターマップで知るフランスの五輪災害」報告
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6月23日、さっぽろオリパラを考える市民の会と反五輪の会共催によるオンライン集会「パリ五輪まであと一か月!カウンターマップで知るフランスの五輪災害」が行われた。
フランスで反五輪運動を展開するSaccage2024が、パリ五輪カウンターマップ「パリ オリンピック・パラリンピック略奪マップ2024 パーティーは終わりだ」を作製。その迫力と情報量、状況分析の鋭さは圧巻だ。日本語版が完成し、Saccage2024のメンバーでパリ在住の佐々木夏子さんが、地図をもとに、パリ五輪に連動して容赦なく進められた都市再編、ジェントリフィケーション、強引な排除、それに対する住民の抵抗、そして現在について報告してくれた。
6月23日をIOCは創設記念日、「オリンピックデー」と名付けている。私たちは「NOオリンピックデー」と呼び、植民地主義、国家主義、競争主義、エリート主義、人種主義、性差別主義、軍事主義の祭典は廃止しろ!、と訴える。
・カウンターマ��プ
パリ五輪カウンターマップ「パリ オリンピック・パラリンピック略奪マップ2024 パーティーは終わりだ」に先駆け、2010年代、ブルターニュ地方ノートルダム・デ・ランドの空港建設に反対し、地元農民と連帯しながら建設予定地を占拠することによって計画を撤回に追い込んだZAD(守るべき土地)が作ったマップ、その成功があった。これを手がけたアーチスト、地理学者グループが、今回パリ五輪による破壊と強奪の記録、可視化を提案したのだそう。初版は完売、現在二刷目とのこと。
・サン=ドニ
お話は、地図を読み解く前に、パリ五輪の主要な会場、関連施設が集中する、サン=ドニ市周辺の現代史から。1967年、ジャン=リュック・ゴダール「彼女について私が知っている二、三の事柄」、1991年、サン=ドニ出身の移民二世世代ヒップホップユニットSuprême NTMのMV、2015年、サン=ドニ出身女性3人組L.E.JのMV、この3つの映像を手がかりに見ていく。
まず、「彼女について私が知っている二、三の事柄」、「彼女」とはパリ首都圏を指す。パリ首都圏は高度成長期、建設現場や工場の労働者として、旧植民地からたくさんの移民を呼び入れたが、その居住先として巨大な低家賃集合住宅をパリ郊外に作った。登場人物の後ろ、窓の外に広がる景色は、建物にはまだ人のざわめきが感じられない、殺伐としている。誰がどこにどのように住むべきかをコントロールしようとする政策、それは資本と統治の側の都合であって、住民を人として尊重するものでないことが伝わる。
そして約四半世紀がすぎ、高度成長終焉後の都市は、産業構造の変革、脱工業化へと向かう。工場は撤退、団地の若者に仕事がなかった。当時の若者文化を代表するというNTMのラップは、活気の失われた団地を背景に、若者たちの不満が張り裂けている。
2015年、「セーヌ=サン=ドニ・スタイル」と題したNTMの楽曲をカバーするL.E.J、彼女たちも何かに怒っている。その後ろにスタッド・ド・フランスが、映っている。サン=ドニといえばスタッド・ド・フランス。2024パリ五輪のメインスタジアムとなる、この巨大スタジアムは、最も貧しい自治体の常連だったサン=ドニ市が衰退に歯止めをかけるべく、ワールドカップサッカー大会開催のために19915年に誘致した。1998年ワールドカップサッカーフランス大会の決勝戦がここで行われ、フランスが優勝を決めた。当時のフランス代表チームが、さまざまな地域にルーツを持つメンバーによって構成されていたことから、多民族国家フランス「国民」統合の象徴的な場���として、人びとの記憶に刻印される。スタッド・ド・フランス誘致にともなうジェントリフィケーションは、1930年代以降労働者の街サン=ドニ市の政権を握って来た共産党にとって、自らの支持基盤である労働者階級の排除という自滅の道であり、その帰結として、2020年にその地位を失った。
・グラン・パリと五輪
一方、2009年には、パリ首都圏再開発プロジェクトとして当時361億ユーロ(のち2020年に420億ユーロ)という巨額の予算をつぎ込むグラン・パリ・エクスプレス計画が、サルコジ大統領により発表される。パリ郊外を全自動地下鉄新路線でつなぐもので、そのうちの4路線が乗り入れる最重要ハブとして新しくサン=ドニ・プレイエル駅がスタッド・ド・フランス近くに作られた。一日25万人が利用するという、地上5階地下4階の巨大駅は、東京の新国立競技場と同じ建築家隈研吾が設計した。パリ五輪までに完成を急がされたグラン・パリ・エクスプレス工事で5人、その中でサン=ドニ・プレイエル駅工事では4人の労働者が死亡している。
この駅の名前にもなっているプレイエルとは、ピアノ製造メーカーの名で、その工場がこの地区にあった。工場はすでにない。70年代、プレイエルタワーというオフィスビルができていたが、長年ほったらかしになっていた。これが今回五輪を機に4つ星ホテルに生まれ変わった。この周辺は大商業地区になる予定だ。
駅から徒歩圏内、サン=ドニ市、リル=サン=ドニ市、サン=トゥアン市にまたがる56ヘクタールに作られたのがパリ五輪選手村だ。3つの学校、19の企業、2つの集合住宅、1つのホテルが取り壊された。サン=トゥアンには非営利組織ADEFの運営する、経済的に苦しい単身者向け寮があり、1980年代からサハラ以南や北アフリカからの移民労働者が暮らしてきた。ほかに行くところのない居住者たちは、選手村かその周辺に皆がまとまって移住できないか当局と交渉したが、急き立てられ224人がバラバラに追い出された。オリパラ閉会後には6000人の就業が見込まれるホテル、オフィス、商業施設と6000人か入居できる2800の住居、学生寮となる。平均約4000ユーロ/㎡だったこの周辺の地価は、約7000ユーロ/㎡に上昇した(パリ市内約1万ユーロ/㎡)。
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また、ここには内務省が移転し、その職員たちが居住することになる。以前から「治安が悪い」と言われてきたこの地域に、警察を管轄する省がやってきて、そこに働く労働者と家族が居住することで、「住民の入れ替え」が図られている。
さらに、その南には国家治安総局(軍)がパリ西郊から引っ越してくる。軍と警察の街なんて、コワくて住みたくないが、高所得者にとってはむしろ「安心」なのだろうか?
選手村の北、リル=サン=ドニ市には工場跡地が多く残り、そこを占拠する形で約400人が住んでいた(スクワット)が、それらは2023年初頭に取り壊された。
選手村とスタッド・ド・フランスを結ぶ交通の便をよくするために、IOCが高速道路の新しいインターチェンジを作るよう要望し、完成した。その結果、交通量の多い道路が小学校を取り囲んでしまった。怒った保護者らが反対の裁判闘争を展開したが敗北。近くにもともとあるスタッド・ド・フランス近くのインターチェンジは、五輪終了後に壊される。なぜ近くにあるのにわざわざ新しくインターチェンジを作り、古いほうを壊すのかと言うと、スタッド・ド・フランス近くのインターチェンジ付近はすでにジェントリフィケーションが進んでいて地価が高く、インターチェンジにしておくのはもったいない、今後オフィスビルを建て商業地区としてさらに発展させるほうが価値があるという考えたのだ。
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その東、ラ・クールヌーヴ市ジョルジュ・ヴァルボン公園すぐそばにはメディア村が作られる。この公園はEU指定の自然保護区域である。2010年代にここを住宅にする計画が上がった際はそれが理由で実現しなかった。今回は、反対運動の裁判が敗北。五輪後には1300戸の住宅が売りに出される。パリ五輪取材に訪れるジャーナリストは2万人と言われるが、ここに収容できるのはわずか1300人だ。五輪よりも、五輪後のほうがほんとうの目的なのだろう。県は70ユーロ/㎡で払い下げ、新しい住宅は5000ユーロ/㎡で売られる。
その南、オーベルヴィリエには選手の練習用プールが作られ、そのサンルームを設置するために、100年以上の歴史のある労働者の菜園、ヴェルチュ労働者菜園が破壊された。パリはすでに3度、1992年、2008年、2012年招致に立候補したが、21世紀に入るとそのたびにオーベルヴィリエ市は関連施設を誘致しようとした。2008年はこの土地を使って自転車競技場を作ることが持ち上がっていた。今回とうとうパリ五輪が開催される事態を前に、2021年春から、菜園を守るために、菜園利用者、環境団体、五輪に反対する人が集まり、占拠闘争を始めた。しかし9月にはブルドーザーにより破壊されてしまった。反対派は裁判闘争の結果、勝利し、サンルーム建設は撤回されている。ここを再緑地化することも可能であったが、一か月前、ここにコンクリートを入れて都市化する計画が持ち上がった。佐々木さんはその反対集会に、この報告会の後、駆けつけるとのことだ。オリパラは、招致が実現しなくても、招致ファイルにあがった建設計画が実行されることもある。1992年、2008年、2012年パリ大会の選手村建設予定地の開発がそうだった。東京も同様であった。オリパラを招致する狙いは開発に拍車をかけることだが、オリパラが来なくても一度計画された開発の多くは止まらない。
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パリ五輪を前に、現在2030年冬季五輪開催がフレンチアルプスにほぼ内定している。今回はIOCが札幌に見切りをつけた理由は、直接的には東京五輪の汚職が明らかになったことだが、2023年札幌市長選挙により、五輪招致反対の意思が数値としてはっきり示されたことが大きかっただろう。2030年開催地は、ストックホルムやスイスなどが名乗りを挙げてはいるが、ストックホルムは政治家の支援がないこと、スイスは直接民主制の国であるため、開催や招致にあたって住民投票が行われるであろうこと、そのうえで「住民投票は実施しない」と明言したフランスの政治状況を考えれば、フレンチアルプス開催の確率は高い。
6月23日現在、7月7日に国民議会選挙を控え、フランスは混とん状態。今、人びとは極右政権が誕生するのではないか、そのことでいっぱいで、五輪どころではないのが実情。(開票の結果、極右政権は阻止され、新人民戦線が勝利したが、先行きはなお混とん。)
・質疑応答
参加者:札幌の招致が止まってよかった。一方東京では、都の48億500万円をかけたプロジェクションマッピング事業で、オリパラ汚職で入札停止を食らっているはずの電通の100%子会社が受託を受けている。
佐々木さん:電通問題で言えば、パリ大会では組織委のナンバー2にエチエンヌ・トボワという人物がいる。彼の運営するコンサル会社は東京五輪招致に尽力したため、東京都から100万ユーロ支払いを受けている。この成功のために彼は仏スポーツ界の中で出世し、組織委のナンバー2に収まった。トボワの作ったコンサル会社は2017年に電通の100パーセント子会社になった。高橋(電通)同様、このような悪い人脈に通じた人物なしに五輪は成立しない。
参加者:東京大会では開催直前になって、街中が怒り、たくさんの抗議行動が行われた。無観客だったので、交通規制は選手と関係者の移動にかかわるだけに限られたが、それでも会場周辺の住民生活は大きく規制を受けた。パリの住民のかたたちの現在の様子は?
佐々木さん:コンコルド広場、エッフェル塔付近など、テレビ映えする交通の要所が仮設会場になり、道路が閉���されている。交通はメチャクチャ、住民の通行にはQRコードを提示させられるなど、不満は高まっている。オリンピックに関心ないという人が優勢な中でも、いろんな側面から反対の声を上げるという動きが生まれている。ただ、それらが一緒になれていない。かつ、今は選挙でそれどころではない。労働組合の元トップが組織委の中枢に入ってもいるが、末端の組合員は五輪に反対している。開催期間中にストライキをすると予告している。もちろん予告しても実行しないということはあるが、もしファシスト政権が誕生したら実行するであろう。あるいはオリンピックという世界の注目を集める環境で、ファシスト政権の顔に泥を塗る行動をするであろう。
参加者:戦争のただなかで行われるオリンピック。環境の問題、不正、汚職、人権侵害いろいろ問題あるが、今はともかく、五輪に使うおカネとエネルギーを使って戦争を、ガザの惨状を止めてほしい。
佐々木さん:戦闘の続く中、「平和の祭典」と言っていられるのか?オリンピック期間中は休戦という建前を持っているが、ウクライナもガザも止められないかぎり、「平和の祭典」の看板は降ろしたほうがいい。
参加者:スクワットしている人たち、ホームレスの人たち、移民難民の人たちが何千人単位で郊外に追い出されていると聞いたが具体的には?
佐々木さん:これは、「パリの野宿者が郊外に」ではなく、「パリ首都圏の野宿や難民のかたたちが地方に」追いやられているという状況。NGO世界の医療団が中心となっている「メダルの裏側」というキャンペーンによる報告では、12545人が排除された。
参加者:札幌ではオール与党が五輪推進、共産党と市民ネットが反対の立場を取った。人々追い出してまでの開催なのに、推進するフランス共産党はパリの将来をどう考えているのか?
佐々木さん:まず、パリは共産党と社会党が与党、パリ郊外は左翼がより強い。その左翼与党が推進する五輪に右翼も賛同、という構造。フランス共産党がどのような将来像を持っているか分析しきれていないが、フランス共産党がほかのどの政党よりもオリンピックを愛しているという話を7月に刊行する本『パリと五輪:空転するメガイベントの「レガシー」』(以文社)に書いたのでぜひ読んでください。簡単に言うと、1930年代まではフランス共産党はオリンピックとIOCに反対していたのに、1950年代、スターリンがIOCに参加を決めて以来、賛成に転換、以後方針を変えることないまま現在に至っている。
参加者28名。パリは今どうなってるんだろう?日本のマスコミからの情報では全くわからない中、パリ五輪開催にかかわる歴史や経緯から現在のなまの様子までがわかる貴重なお話を��聞きすることができました。とても充実した、内容の濃い集会となりました。6月26日には国際連帯声明が出される予定で、各地の参加者から賛同したいとの声があがりました。 佐々木さん、みなさま、ありがとうございました。
関連記事 五輪のための「弱者の追い出し」がパリでも…華やかな祭典では隠しきれない「五輪災害」「負の遺産」の存在(東京新聞)
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mhvy · 9 months ago
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fidjiefidjie · 1 year ago
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youtube
Bon Soir 🆕️ 🥁 🎻💟
L.E.J 🎶 Summer 2023
(Volume II)
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nicoise · 7 months ago
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shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals 💕
1. disappear - sunny day real estate
2. tout se dire - l.e.j
3. starlight - muse
4. somebody loves you gcv
5. love alone - iu
i guess i have eclectic taste
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hazelandglasz · 8 months ago
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song game: V and O :)
V. A non English song
"Le bal de Laze" by Michel Polnareff
"La nuit" by L.E.J.
"Perdue" by Yseult
"Gracias a La vida" by Mercedes Sosa
O. A melancholic song
I am going to rec a couple of them
"The Loneliest" by Maneskin
"Bridge over troubled water" by Simon & Garfunkel
"Solassitude" by Stromae (it's French too so two birds one song ;))
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