#demande de dons

[gulshanwhydonate]

Comment Organiser des Collectes de Fonds Réussies pour Votre Association

Organiser des événements et campagnes de collecte de fonds pour une association peut sembler intimidant, mais avec les bonnes idées et stratégies, cela devient une tâche réalisable et gratifiante. Que vous représentiez une école, une église ou une association de parents d'élèves, cet article vous propose diverses idées créatives et efficaces pour atteindre vos objectifs financiers tout en mobilisant votre communauté.

1. Idée pour récolter de l'argent pour une association

La première étape pour toute association cherchant à financer ses activités est de trouver une idée pour récolter de l'argent pour une association. Que ce soit pour une cause locale ou un projet plus ambitieux, il est essentiel d’impliquer les membres de la communauté.

Une des idées les plus populaires est d'organiser un événement participatif, tel qu'une marche sponsorisée ou une course à pied. Cela permet de réunir un grand nombre de participants et de sponsors tout en favorisant l'esprit de groupe. Par ailleurs, organiser une vente aux enchères de biens et services locaux peut également être très efficace. De plus, les associations peuvent aussi tirer parti des plateformes en ligne pour organiser des collectes de fonds virtuelles, ce qui permet d’atteindre un plus large public.

2. Demande de dons pour financer vos projets

La demande de dons est une méthode traditionnelle mais toujours très efficace. Il existe plusieurs manières de formuler cette demande, que ce soit par courrier, par e-mail ou via les réseaux sociaux. Dans une lettre ou un message de demande de dons, il est important de présenter clairement votre projet, de montrer comment les fonds seront utilisés et de faire appel aux émotions du lecteur.

Une bonne pratique est de personnaliser vos demandes de dons en fonction de vos donateurs potentiels. Il est également conseillé d’utiliser des plateformes de dons en ligne, comme WhyDonate, pour faciliter les contributions. Ces outils offrent une transparence qui renforce la confiance des donateurs.

3. Idée vente pour école : Comment impliquer les élèves et les parents

Pour une école, il est souvent nécessaire de trouver une idée vente pour école qui permette de mobiliser non seulement les élèves, mais aussi les parents. L’organisation d’une vente de gâteaux ou de produits faits maison est un classique qui fonctionne toujours bien. Les élèves peuvent participer en aidant à la fabrication des produits, ce qui leur donne un sentiment de contribution.

Une autre idée serait de vendre des articles créés par les élèves, comme des dessins ou des objets artisanaux. Cette approche non seulement génère des fonds, mais valorise aussi le travail des enfants et suscite un grand intérêt de la part des parents et proches.

4. Organiser un événement : Idée événement pour une association de parents d'élèves

Les associations de parents d’élèves jouent souvent un rôle central dans la vie scolaire. Trouver une bonne idee evenement association parent eleve peut permettre de renforcer les liens entre les familles tout en recueillant des fonds.

Une kermesse scolaire ou un vide-grenier sont des événements classiques mais toujours populaires. Ces manifestations permettent aux parents et aux enfants de s’impliquer tout en passant un moment convivial. De plus, la tenue d’un tournoi sportif entre parents et enfants peut également être une idée divertissante et lucrative. En impliquant l'ensemble de la communauté scolaire, ces événements peuvent générer des fonds importants pour financer des projets scolaires.

5. Rédiger une lettre de demande d'aide financière pour une église

Une lettre de demande d'aide financière pour une église doit être rédigée avec soin, car elle s’adresse souvent à une communauté de fidèles et de donateurs réguliers. Dans cette lettre, il est essentiel de mettre en avant la mission de l'église et les projets spécifiques pour lesquels les fonds sont nécessaires.

Soyez transparent sur les besoins financiers, mais également reconnaissant envers les donateurs potentiels pour leur soutien passé. En outre, une telle lettre doit également expliquer comment les contributions aideront à faire avancer les projets, qu'il s'agisse de rénovations, d'initiatives sociales ou de programmes religieux.

6. Événements en ligne : Une alternative moderne pour récolter des fonds

Avec l'avènement des plateformes numériques, les demandes de dons et les événements virtuels sont devenus des moyens très populaires pour récolter de l'argent. Organiser un concert en ligne, un webinaire ou même une vente aux enchères virtuelle permet d’atteindre des personnes au-delà de votre communauté locale. Ces événements peuvent être diffusés en direct sur des plateformes comme Facebook ou YouTube, ce qui permet aux donateurs de participer à distance.

Ces événements sont particulièrement efficaces car ils réduisent les coûts d'organisation tout en permettant de toucher un public plus large. De plus, en offrant des options de don en ligne, vous facilitez grandement le processus de donation.

7. Collaboration avec des entreprises locales pour maximiser les dons

Une autre stratégie consiste à collaborer avec des entreprises locales qui peuvent sponsoriser vos événements ou offrir des services ou produits pour une vente aux enchères. Ces collaborations permettent d'augmenter la visibilité de votre association et d’attirer des fonds supplémentaires.

Les entreprises peuvent également être intéressées par la promotion de leur propre marque en associant leur nom à une bonne cause. Il est donc judicieux de contacter les commerces et entreprises locaux pour proposer des partenariats bénéfiques pour les deux parties.

8. Lettre de remerciement pour fidéliser les donateurs

Après chaque collecte de fonds, il est important d’envoyer une lettre de remerciement à tous vos donateurs. Cela permet de montrer votre reconnaissance et de maintenir une relation positive avec eux pour de futures campagnes. Dans cette lettre, n’oubliez pas de préciser les résultats de votre collecte de fonds et comment les fonds seront utilisés. Cela permet de renforcer la confiance et d’encourager les dons futurs.

FAQ

1. Comment rédiger une demande de don efficace ?

Il est essentiel d’expliquer clairement la cause et la manière dont les fonds seront utilisés. Soyez transparent et faites appel aux émotions de vos donateurs potentiels. Personnaliser vos lettres ou messages de demande de don peut également améliorer vos chances de succès.

2. Quelle est la meilleure idée de vente pour une école ?

Une vente de produits faits maison, comme des gâteaux ou des objets artisanaux réalisés par les élèves, fonctionne généralement très bien. Elle implique la participation des enfants et des parents, créant ainsi un sentiment de communauté.

3. Quels types d'événements sont les plus efficaces pour une association de parents d'élèves ?

Les kermesses, vide-greniers et tournois sportifs sont des événements classiques qui permettent de réunir toute la communauté scolaire tout en générant des fonds. Ces événements sont non seulement amusants, mais aussi très efficaces pour mobiliser les parents et les enfants.

En résumé, organiser des collectes de fonds pour une association nécessite de la créativité, de l'organisation et une bonne communication. Qu'il s'agisse de ventes, d'événements ou de demandes de dons, il est essentiel d'impliquer la communauté et de maintenir une relation de confiance avec vos donateurs.

[whydonate11]

Comment Obtenir Des Dons | 8 Stratégies Efficaces Pour Demande De Dons En Ligne

Il y a une longue liste de choses à faire avant de lancer une collecte de fonds, quelle qu’elle soit, qui comprend la préparation d’un bon contenu, une stratégie de collecte de fonds bien planifiée, des moyens d’obtenir des dons et la rétention des donateurs pour les activités futures.

Parmi toutes ces activités, la demande de dons en ligne est l’un des points les plus importants sur lesquels un collecteur de fonds doit se concentrer. Demande de don pour particulier est plus facile à dire qu’à faire. Même si cela semble simple, il existe une manière appropriée d’approcher les donateurs pour une cause qui ne leur est pas forcément bénéfique. Donc, pour commencer à demander des dons pour votre collecte de fonds, vous devez comprendre les pensées de vos donateurs et agir en conséquence. 

Il n’y a aucune raison d’être inquiet, car nous avons ici l’une des meilleures pratiques pour savoir comment obtenir des dons en ligne et quels sont les points à suivre avant de commencer à demander des dons.

P.S: Boostez vos dons en ligne grâce à WhyDonate. Inscrivez-vous pour vivre la meilleure expérience de collecte de fonds !

Comment Obtenir Des Dons En Ligne – 8 Meilleures Pratiques

1.Commencez Par Votre Page De Don

Organiser la page de don peut simplifier le processus de collecte de fonds pour les utilisateurs, car cela élimine la nécessité pour eux de passer par le système compliqué de gestion des divers détails de la transaction. Vous pouvez également ajouter un formulaire de don à votre page de campagne pour le rendre plus accessible aux donateurs lorsqu’ils effectuent un don en ligne.

WhyDonate est une plateforme européenne de financement participatif de premier plan qui vise à améliorer encore l’expérience de collecte de fonds pour ses utilisateurs. Vous pouvez commencer par partager toutes les informations sur votre collecte de fonds sur votre page de don. Plus tard, vous pouvez partager la page avec des donateurs potentiels pour leur faire connaître votre objectif de collecte de fonds.

2. Collecte De Fonds Par E-Mail Pour La Collecte De Fonds En Ligne

L’un des outils les plus efficaces pour la collecte de fonds est le marketing par E-mail. Il peut vous aider à mobiliser des volontaires, à promouvoir des offres d’emploi et à fournir des informations sur les événements à venir. La plupart des services de marketing par e-mail sont très simples à utiliser et ne nécessitent aucune connaissance en programmation. Avec une variété de fonctionnalités et de modèles, les collecteurs de fonds peuvent facilement envoyer des e-mails.

L’un des principaux avantages de la collecte de fonds par e-mail est sa capacité à recruter rapidement des volontaires, des donateurs et des clients. Les organisations à but non lucratif peuvent lever davantage de fonds et impliquer plus de personnes dans leur organisation en quelques clics seulement.

3. Blogs De Collecte De Fonds Pour Les Donateurs Potentiels

Les collecteurs de fonds peuvent régulièrement rédiger des blogs sur les initiatives de leur campagne pour atteindre et se connecter avec les donateurs potentiels. Ils devraient également se concentrer sur l’attraction de nouveaux donateurs et sur la fidélisation de ceux déjà acquis. L’un des facteurs les plus importants à prendre en compte est le développement d’une forte connexion émotionnelle avec vos lecteurs.

Lorsqu’il s’agit de développer du contenu long, l’un des points essentiels à considérer est de s’assurer qu’il est non seulement pertinent pour votre public cible, mais aussi engageant.

Avoir une stratégie de contenu bien conçue et engageante peut contribuer à améliorer votre classement dans les moteurs de recherche. Un autre facteur important à prendre en compte est de veiller à ce qu’il soit vu par les bonnes personnes en ajoutant des visuels attrayants.

4. Demander Des Dons Via Les Réseaux Sociaux

L’une des méthodes les plus efficaces pour demander des dons lors d’une campagne de crowdfunding est l’utilisation des médias sociaux, car les individus et les organisations ont tendance à suivre les dernières tendances en matière de distanciation sociale. Effectuer des activités sur les médias sociaux est très simple et gratuit, car cela permet aux gens de présenter leurs campagnes et d’attirer beaucoup d’attention. Étant une plateforme multimédia, les gens peuvent facilement toucher un grand nombre de personnes grâce aux publications sur les médias sociaux.

Outre la possibilité d’atteindre un large public, les médias sociaux permettent également de diffuser l’information plus rapidement. C’est pourquoi la collecte de fonds sur cette plateforme est très simple et gratuite. Étant donné que les gens l’utilisent à des fins de loisirs, il est également très avantageux de créer une campagne de collecte de fonds sans restrictions.

Les appareils mobiles permettent aux gens de rester en contact facilement avec leurs amis et leur famille, et ils peuvent également prendre des photos et des vidéos. Les smartphones et les tablettes sont capables de bien plus que de simplement prendre des photos et des vidéos. De plus, les gens ont tendance à se concentrer davantage sur leurs appareils mobiles au lieu de dialoguer les uns avec les autres.

Les plateformes de médias sociaux telles que Facebook, Twitter et Instagram fonctionnent également très bien dans le cas des campagnes de collecte de fonds de pair à pair en raison du vaste réseau de ces plateformes. Avec WhyDonate, vous pouvez facilement commencer à collecter des fonds pour votre cause sans aucun problème, car ses fonctionnalités intégrées sont axées sur le succès d’une collecte de fonds en tenant compte de ces tendances.

Il est donc important de choisir une plateforme de collecte de fonds en ligne qui se démarque des autres. WhyDonate ne facture pas de frais pour permettre à ses utilisateurs de commencer à collecter des fonds. Ses utilisateurs peuvent facilement partager les détails de leur campagne sur les canaux de médias sociaux en ajoutant une publication sur les médias sociaux.

5. Demandez Des Dons Lors D’Événements De Collecte De Fonds

Les événements de collecte de fonds sont un excellent moyen de collecter des fonds pour les organisations et de montrer la valeur ajoutée qu’elles apportent à la communauté. Une forte présence lors de l’événement permettra aux gens de voir à quel point votre organisation est appréciée.

Un événement de collecte de fonds peut également susciter l’enthousiasme pour le don. Si vous prévoyez d’organiser un événement destiné à collecter des fonds pour votre organisation, pensez à y intégrer diverses activités. L’une d’entre elles est une vente aux enchères, où les participants peuvent enchérir sur un article spécifique. Encouragez l’enchérisseur gagnant, car il récolte le montant le plus élevé possible pour votre organisation. Ou encore, dans le cas d’un marathon ou d’une collecte de fonds pour les vacances, les gens peuvent participer physiquement à la collecte de fonds, à laquelle ils peuvent s’identifier.

Les activités de collecte de fonds en ligne, telles que les ventes de pâtisseries ou de produits écologiques, peuvent également avoir un impact considérable sur votre collecte de fonds, et vous pouvez collecter des fonds par le biais de votre page de dons en ligne.

6. Comment Obtenir Des Dons Via Les Paramètres De Dons Récurrents

L’un des facteurs les plus importants qu’un organisateur de campagne de collecte de fonds peut prendre en compte pour réussir est d’avoir un donateur récurrent. Ce type de don lui permet de collecter des dons réguliers et d’alimenter son budget annuel. Les donateurs récurrents sont les joyaux de la rue et les organisations à but non lucratif.

Ces types de donateurs sont également connus pour être fiables et ont montré qu’ils étaient prêts à donner régulièrement. Les donateurs récurrents répondent le plus souvent aux demandes de dons des organisations en raison des liens étroits qu’ils entretiennent avec les organisateurs de la collecte de fonds.

Le fait d’avoir un donateur récurrent peut également contribuer à augmenter les dons en ligne que votre organisation reçoit. Il élimine la nécessité de visiter fréquemment votre site web pour faire des dons, et vous permet de collecter ces dons automatiquement. Il est très important d’avoir une relation solide avec les donateurs et de les fidéliser pour réussir à long terme votre collecte de fonds.

7. Communiqué De Presse Sur La Collecte De Fonds

Les médias d’information sont également d’excellentes options à considérer si vous aimez demander des dons. Une grande variété de groupes démographiques prête attention aux communiqués de presse chaque jour, et il peut être avantageux de couvrir votre campagne de collecte de fonds par le biais de ces communiqués de presse.

8. Lettre De Collecte De Fonds Pour Faire Des Demandes De Dons

Écrire une lettre pour demander des dons est l’une des choses les plus polies que vous pouvez faire pour votre campagne de crowdfunding. Une lettre montre vos véritables efforts de collecte de fonds et comment vous canalisez vos émotions dans un morceau de papier qui peut faire une grande différence. Nous ne parlons pas ici d’écrire uniquement des lettres physiques, même une lettre en ligne peut faire l’affaire. 

Non seulement demander des dons mais aussi écrire une lettre pour remercier vos donateurs est un must pour toute collecte de fonds.

Lancez Votre Mission

En résumé, nous pouvons dire que la politesse et la pertinence sont les meilleures pratiques à adopter pour demander des dons. Grâce aux technologies avancées, nous n’avons heureusement plus besoin de faire du porte-à-porte pour demander un don. Il existe de nombreuses plates-formes estimées comme WhyDonate qui existent juste pour fournir aux personnes ou aux organisations la possibilité d’aller de l’avant et de collecter des fonds pour leur cause sans trop d’obstacles.

L’équipe de WhyDonate est toujours prête à vous aider à collecter des fonds pour votre cause, où que vous soyez, et à vous fournir de nombreuses bonnes pratiques de collecte de fonds. Nous sommes là pour fournir de nombreuses solutions pour vos campagnes et guider les collecteurs de fonds en leur proposant de nombreuses idées créatives de collecte de fonds. Vous pouvez maintenant lancer une campagne de collecte de fonds et partager vos succès. Bonne collecte de fonds !

pour plus d'informations : https://whydonate.com/fr/blog/demande-de-dons-en-ligne/

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

With his romance with Lavellan, Solas learned a horrific truth—that him simply as a humble man was enough to be lovable. He had been plied out of the Fade by Mythal because of her need for him, and out of devotion, he became something more and dreadful for himself, for her. And she never reciprocated that devotion with the same intensity. He spent millennia fighting for her as a thing he detested—a man of war and death, a being whose mortal body imbued him with innate qualities and emotions that would further twist his Wisdom nature. He was producing the very poisons that would normally corrupt a spirit by virtue of [Being a Person]. The external influences now harbored inside him.

But Lavellan showed him. That being you are, the one that wished to ponder and reminisce of spirits, who valued liberty and freedom and knowledge and the wry observation? That was enough. That was always enough. But he can’t accept it, because millennia of being Fen Harel, being devoted to Mythal and her cause.. to sunder it from himself would feel like a magnificent loss. He has been that for so long, is there anything yet truly left of the Wisdom spirit that once was?

Not only that, but given corporeality, Solas is compelled by the operant [If I can, I must]. He CAN do something about the Veil, so he will. If he doesn’t, then he is forsaking the memory of he destroyed with his choice. He is forsaking his own principles. To do nothing in the face of injustice and cruelty is a sin he cannot bear.

He comes to the Inquisition as a “humble apostate”, both as disguise and because in his de-powered state he is of little greater use (if he had greater power I’m certain he would have nudged the Inquisition toward their goals). This is a costume he is wearing, or so he tells himself. He exists to advise, to suggest, to subtly direct toward more peaceful and humanitarian and spirit-friendly directives. He operates as his former [Wisdom] spirit state.

And Lavellan grows to love it, to appreciate it. She grows to appreciate [Solas as Wisdom]. That part of him, the part of him that he has put aside for thousands upon thousands of years, though his nature craves to return to it. Without his ability to be Fen’Harel, it is pretty much all he has. And oh, this mayfly mortal born of a “forsaken ignorant people”, she is drawn to him, seeing him as a [man], seeing him at his (comparatively) weakest, most ineffectual state and finding it pleasing. Desirable. [Enough].

Enough. He is enough as Solas, simply Solas. But if it is enough for Lavellan, why was it not enough for Mythal? No, no, there was a reason. There was a war. War requires more of people. It requires limits to be broken and terrible mantles to be donned.

But Lavellan is fighting an existential war against Corypheus. And she does not demand more of him. She values what little he is able to provide—guidance, insight, his magic. It is [Enough].

We Solavellans have dissected and discussed at length about the nature of the relationship being one built on deceit, the moral and ethical quandary of love cultivated under a false identity. Veilguard has confirmed the existential struggle and quiet agony that Solas experienced by transitioning into [Being]. While Lavellan should of course had been informed of his ‘true identity’ before falling in love with him, an argument could still be made that Fen’Harel is not his true identity but a long-worn mask that he wishes he could ditch. The man Lavellan fell in love with is who he should be, who he wants to be. Far more underpowered than he’s comfortable with, sure, but the personality for certain. Just a person giving advice, discussing at length about topics he enioys, exploring memories and ruminating over them, smirking over small verbal sleights of hand and sly tricks, engaging in philosophical debates. All of that is already there, that is who he is in peacetime. The man has known war and conflict for so long that he has mentally split Solas and Fen’Harel as two people, because he needed to, but they are the same. Solas who wields the martial prowess of Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel who possesses the wry levity and artistic sentimentality of Solas. SOLAS YOU ARE BOTH AND MORE THAN THESE TWO HALVES.

[twistedbloodstain]

vincent de gramont x historian!reader: spring breaks loose, but so does fear | sweetness and bitterness within

plot: the one where the both of you are within your walls.

warnings: marquis is different here to canon, expect oc behavior but like all fics he’s gonna be cruel museum worker! reader, entitled af french boi, unreliable sibling relationships/dynamics

masterlist

the rain pattered against the glass windows, ringing through the empty halls of the museum. you sat there deep in thought in front of your desk while the storm raged outside. the moon that had look delicately beautiful earlier had disappeared when flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder replaced the serene scenery, you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here but surely it hasn’t been that long.

where was he? he should be here by now, you pondered.

a knock snaps you out of your thoughts.

“ma’am?” your assistant calls out as he peeks his head through the door.

you look back at him but your lips stay still, not making a word but silently urging him to continue with the rise of an eyebrow.

“he’s here again, requesting a private viewing,” he informs.

oh. you almost forgot about that.

the constant visitor of the museum for the past few weeks was none other than the eccentric and affluent, marquis de gramont. recently, he frequented the museum for a private viewing for some of the rarest and beautiful pieces of art in french history. not that you’re complaining since he paid good money for his private viewings but his persistent requests to have a historian around him, explaining what the intricate histories and symbols drawn beneath the surface were an inconvenience sometimes.

truthfully, there’s no bad conversation with him. you’re quite eager to answer any additional questions or arguments he imposes upon you but judging by the exhibition of his wealth and power, don’t they teach these things to nobility at a young age?

you pull your feet up and drag them towards the door, your assistant gives you a weary smile knowing how long your discussions with the marquis would usually go, for hours on end. 

the walk to the private room was filled with footsteps, your previous thoughts emerging once again. your brother.

 he was supposed to be here to join you for lunch but he hadn’t shown up. lunches shared with the both of you were also your bonding and catch up time but as of late he missed at least four lunches in six weeks. you could understand that maybe it was just his busy schedule but the fewer times you saw him, he seemed anxious and jumpy with sweat beading on his forehead. as if he was always in a hurry, you consistently persisted in the lunches in an effort to get him to open up his problems with you, after all what are siblings for?

you approach the door cautiously, taking a deep breath to polish your mind before stepping into the role of gracious historian, a person that’s ready to deal with the marquis.

entering the room with an eager smile on your face, you greet the marquis who was sitting on a plush white leather couch, donning another dark blue suit with a jacket and tie to finish the look. he doesn’t offer any greeting in reply and comments on your lateness right away.

“you took a while to get here, mademoiselle.” he mutters, checking his watch.

“i apologize for my tardiness sir, i had matters to attend to.” you force a smile. he stares at you carefully, an amused smirk tugs at the corner of his lips before waving it off.

“let’s get started then.”

the marquis is a difficult person to impress, especially in keeping him engaged in a conversation. more often than not you find yourself exerting a lot of information out of your brain just to keep up with him. you don’t know why you always push yourself to be somewhat superior to him in terms of knowledge but perhaps that’s just what his aura demands of you.

“and that is the final painting for your private viewing today, sir.” you recite familiar lines you’ve been saying for the past six weeks, “are there any questions you have in mind?”

he eyes the painting cryptically before glancing at you and shaking his head, looking somewhat satisfied with the answers you’ve given him. you smile at him once again before speaking.

“if you require any refreshments or desire to make an appointment in the future, enzo will take care of it. thank you for coming to the louvre, sir.” you bow your head before leaving, knowing that the marquis liked to be alone.

once you make it back to the office, you see your phone light up and vibrate. you immediately make a beeline for it and before the ringing ends, unfortunately the call ends before you could answer it but a wave of messages floods your inbox, all from your brother telling you he was at the entrance of the museum.

you hurriedly run out of your office straight to the entrance when you see a faint silhouette by the large doors. you call his name out and he turns to face you, a faint smile on his lips.

”where were you? i’ve been waiting for you the entire day, are you alright?” you immediately assume the worst and begin to fret over your dearest younger brother, gripping his shoulders and checking his face for any possible injuries.

your brother is a good person. you know that. you watched him grow, you watched him become the man he is now but still a small whisper remains in the back of your mind that you are losing him to something , and you can’t do anything to help it.

you can feel it. it  started with the distance and excuses, how every single word that leaves his mouth feels less and less genuine and more like a set of lies meant to calm you down. you want to help him but he won’t let you.

”i’m fine, i just got caught up at work.” he verbally reassures you but pulls away from your touch. you bite your tongue from asking more, afraid of scaring him away. a fight is not what you need right now.

”oh…um” you mumble, taking a small step away from him, feeling your insides crush to the lack of familial warmth from a brother. he stands there unfazed by your movements, the small smile gone in front of you. instead, an uneasiness replaces his eyes and stares at the ground, seemingly too busy to deal with your emotions right now.

“do you want to have dinner together? i know this nice sushi place downtown.” you eagerly offer, his mouth opens to reply but a brief hesitation takes place.

”i can’t.” he replies.

“why?” you ask, annoyance in your tone.

”work, as usual.” he states with a humorless chuckle, worry still present in his face, “i’m here for a favor.”

“what is it? did you get in trouble? you know you can tell me anything right?” you gasp.

“no! no! i just need to borrow some money for this month’s rent. my new job doesn’t pay until the end of the month, my landlord said i’m way overdue for the past three months and he’s gonna kick me out if i don’t pay within this week.”

a silence takes over the conversation as your process the information you are given right now. the excuse feels flimsy and careless.

money isn’t really an issue for you right now. you’re not insanely rich but you are financially stable, yet you feel uncertain about giving your brother money. your brother’s landlord, a strict but yet a sweet old man often texts you whether or not your brother has paid his rent in each month and so far you’ve received no messages from him lately. 

”oh..yeah sure. it’s no problem, i can send it to you later.” you smile for his comfort, making yourself feel approachable to your own blood.

monitoring your sibling’s rent status is definitely odd but with what you’re dealing with right now, to be completely honest you’re just making sure your brother’s alright, there’s nothing wrong with that.

”come on in, it’s raining outside.” you grab his arm and pull him in.

”no, seriously, it's alright. you might have some people inside-“

”it’s closing time, at least sit inside and wait for me, please?” you plead.

”okay, i’ll wait for you.” he smiles.

”good, because if i have to deal with another stubborn asshole under this roof, i’m going to lose my mind.” your brother chuckles and takes a seat by the door.

”dinner’s on me.” he adds, wiping the raindrops gathered on his forehead.

“on you? you can’t even pay your rent!” you jest.

”it was a one time thing!”

the amusement slowly dies down when you hear a large number of footsteps echoing through the halls, the door opens and it reveals the marquis. you immediately straighten up and face his direction, slipping in the professional manner that he is accustomed to.

”good evening, sir.” you greet.

the marquis doesn’t reply but instead whispers an instruction to his guards which they nod to and walk ahead of him. the marquis approaches you carefully, briefly eyeing you before glancing at the person behind you.

”it is quite late, don’t you think?” he starts.

”ah, yes it is. the night staff and i are closing the museum for the night, we were simply waiting for your departure. perhaps, you enjoyed your private viewings much longer than usual, sir.”

”you cannot fault me for that, miss. what hangs on the walls of this establishment is history, glory and beauty wrapped in one.”

”that we agree on.” you reply, “will you be here tomorrow? at the same time?” he looks at you again.

”for what reason are you asking?” he raises an eyebrow.

“so enzo and i can immediately arrange for your appointment and room, sir.” 

he pauses and a silence takes place, his eyes wander all over your face trying to see something through you. you keep your gaze on him, composed and calm. as it should be. you get a feeling he relishes on weakness especially people who have a lower pay grade than him or maybe that’s just how he is with everyone.

narcissism was a major takeaway you observed from the marquis the first time you met him, quite self-centered might you add and somewhat snobbish but then again his attention is not something to be exhilarated about.

”yes, miss. i will be here tomorrow.” a small smirk curves his lips.

”you are quite fond of the art around here.” you start.

”yes, what of it?”

”how come you never bought any of it? i’ve heard from a few auction houses that you have quite the art collection. i’m sure it is much more convenient for you, having the art within the comfort of your home.” you reason to him.

more reason to see him less in your life. you think.

“you are not wrong in that. it would be much more convenient.” he agrees.

so buy it then.

”if that’s the case, i must inform you that there are plans to auction that rembrandt you are so eagerly fond of, perhaps you might be interested in joining?”

”i will have to turn that down, miss. as much as i enjoy the comfort of my home, i appreciate the aura of the louvre, it brings a sense of fulfillment and eagerness to me. i would be a fool to rob myself of that. also, the people around here are not so bad.” his eyes rake over your frame carefully, you wonder if he’s looking at your brother. 

you look back and surprisingly no ones there. you shake it off when you hear a car engine nearby.

”oh, well it doesn’t hurt to try.” you begin to walk towards the door and he follows, outside his car sits with a bodyguard on standby waiting for him.

”i appreciate your service, miss. my private viewings have never been a dull moment during your enlightenments.” you lower you’re head slightly at him with a polite smile.

“i, as well must thank you for your service and approach. i tend to enjoy the art much more than when i am with myself.” the marquis remarks, extending his hand towards you.

”my pleasure, sir.” you respond as you shake his hand.

and it’s warm.

”will you be requiring a ride home? i am more than happy to offer it to you.” he offers when you pull your hand away from him.

”thank you for the offer sir but i will be here for later hours.” you retort.

“i do not mind staying here for a little longer.” he insists, you notice his line of sight eye your hand that shook his hand earlier. the cold rainy breeze must have taken control of the warmth of your palms and the marquis could have noticed the coldness of your hand. the marquis fidgets with his right hand as if it was itching to do something.

”it is not needed sir, i am more than capable of bringing myself home.” you state firmly.

”nonsense. i’ll send a car for you. it would be unfortunate if my favorite art historian was harmed in any possible way, how will i survive my viewings?” he urges with amusement in his tone but once again not wanting to back down.

”i would hate to waste your time and effort sir-“ you politely refuse again.

”it is late and unsafe for a woman of your caliber to be alone in the streets of the city. you will not have a choice in this, mademoiselle.” he states firmly this time as his voice hardens and makes it clear it’s not an offer.

it’s a command.

the marquis’ attention is not to be relished on. in this private viewings, the both of you have always maintained a polite and professional demeanor between client and host although there was some casual conversation here and there but you’ve never outright refused him, desiring to keep his temper from exploding and having his unpredictability in your space.

the marquis always gets his way. having private viewings at any time he desires with whatever piece of art he decides to have his eye on and more importantly taking up your time whenever he comes by at the louvre.

in the recent months you’ve spent with him, compliance is all he knows from you so it’s not unlikely that it’s easy for him to shut you down at the first hint of refusal. not to mention, he does not hesitate at confrontation. any small slight against him is somewhat remembered the next time you meet him.

complaints about making him wait slightly longer than usual for his viewings, comments about the apparently poor maintenance of the paintings  and your tardiness to attend to him are the most prominent experiences you remember from him.

the marquis feels entitled to everything within the walls of the louvre.

and that includes you.

another entitled rich snob that thinks he understands art more than you do is not a first time experience, but his insistence of having you brought home because of him somehow brings a chill to your spine.

entitled rich snobs can come to your work any time and however they like but the moment they try to step into your life, well it’s time to push them back. you have no interest in them unless it’s something to do with your job.

unfortunately, you don’t have the strength to do that right now.

“next time.” you think to yourself, “but never again.”

you back down and thank the marquis for this offer as his body guard opens the door to his vehicle, he flashes a small but pleased smile for your gratitude and bids you a safe trip home.

you return a smile at him and watch him leave until his car disappears from where you stand. exhaustion settles back into your nerves when you realized how late it is again.

oh and your brother.

christ. give me strength to deal with this tomorrow.

you sigh and walk back inside to close up.

later, when you get dropped off by the driver assigned to you, doubt starts to creep into your senses whether or not you told the driver where you live. after thanking him and shutting the door, you tilt your head idly at the car and think deep and hard.

”did you or did you not?” you ponder.

groaning heavily you shake it off as exhaustion for your lack of remembrance.

still weird though.

author’s note: kickstarting another series when i’m still not done with four reqs and one series…anyways enjoy and please feel free to like and reblog!

[diapered-dav]

Ce soir nous regardons spirit un dessin animé sur le cheval avec ma femme. Qui dit dessin animé dit tenue spéciale!

Et qui dit cheval dit ma passion. Je monte à cheval et suis trésorier de mon centre équestre. Nous avons actuellement des difficultés financières et avons lancé une cagnotte de don déductible des impôts a 66%. Je ne demande aucune contribution sur Tumblr mais si vous voulez faire plaisir à un grand bébé n'hésiter pas à donner. Par contre merci de ne pas faire référence dans vos commentaires de don à ce plaisir caché de toute personne dans mon club. Bisous les bébé

Tonight we're watching spirit the cartoon about hourse with my wife. About cartoon it's a diaper and baby outfit to watch it.

About horse it's the moment to share my passion with you for horse. I ride horse and I'm the treasurer of my horse association.

We are currently having financial difficulties and have launched a donation kitty. I'm not asking for any contributions on Tumblr but if you want to please a big baby don't hesitate to donate. On the other hand, please do not refer in your donation comments to this pleasure hidden from anyone in my club. Kisses babies

[muiitoloko]

A few days ago I remembered some videos/posts that talked about how Judge Turpin and Minister Frollo (The Hunchback of Notre-Dame) looked alike, well, imagine if our dear Turpin had a partner with a strong personality like Esmeralda has, who doesn't obey the judge's orders and one of her biggest hobbies is to irritate him (whether by doing silly things like pasting drawings on his things or even something like leaving the house when he had said no) but despite everything they get along well and love each other in their own way

You don't have to write about it, only if you want to of course, I just had to ramble about it with someone

(Isso tá remoendo minha cabeça desde o final de semana juro pra ti 😭)

Title: The Witch and the Judge.

Summary: Despite everything, Judge Turpin loved his damned gypsy.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: Haha, can you imagine Judge Turpin dealing with a partner like that? It would be like trying to control a whirlwind with a mind of its own! 😄 But hey, who knows, maybe underneath all that irritation, they'd find a strange sort of harmony. Love can be weird like that!

Your life with Judge Richard Turpin is a complex dance of irritation and affection, a performance that seems to bewilder and entrap him in equal measure. Despite his stern demeanor and the cruel reputation that precedes him, his infatuation with you is a peculiar mix of fascination and frustration, which you wield with the deftness of a seasoned performer.

One crisp morning, you decide to step out into the bustling streets of London without his permission. Dressed in your colorful gypsy attire, you wander through the market square, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air. The whispers and stares of townsfolk follow you, a stark contrast to the grim respect they show Turpin. When you finally return, his expression is a storm of fury and relief.

"Where have you been?" he demands, his baritone voice echoing through the grand halls of the mansion. You merely smile, a knowing glint in your eye, and brush past him, leaving him to stew in his mixed emotions.

On another occasion, the mischievous glint in your eye turns towards his prized judicial robes. Waiting until he is preoccupied with one of his many cruel decrees, you sneak into his chambers and don the imposing black garb. The heavy fabric swirls around you as you stand before the mirror, mimicking his haughty stance and imperious glare.

When he finds you, he is momentarily struck silent by the absurdity of the sight. His stern mask cracks, revealing a flicker of amusement before the inevitable exasperation sets in. "You are impossible," he mutters, shaking his head. You laugh, a light and teasing sound that softens his scowl.

Perhaps the most audacious stunt you pull involves the elaborate wooden closet in his study. With a cunning and agility that both amazes and infuriates him, you manage to tie him up inside, gagging him with one of his own silk cravats. You then stride into his courtroom, his robes billowing around you, and take his place on the bench.

The courtroom murmurs in confusion, but none dare question the judge—your judge. You bang the gavel, summoning an authoritative tone. "Order in the court," you declare, relishing the power. The charade lasts only a few minutes before Beadle Bamford bursts in, eyes wide with shock and horror at the sight of you impersonating his master.

Beadle grabbed you firmly by the arm and led you out, his grip tight and his face a mask of concern. You allowed yourself to be guided, playing the part of the innocent and bewildered gypsy wife.

He whisked you into Judge Turpin's office, his steps quick and urgent. "Tell me where the Judge is, now!" Beadle demanded, his voice sharp with worry.

You tapped a finger against your cheek thoughtfully, pretending to ponder. "Oh, Judge Turpin? Hmm... I seem to recall now. I believe I left him somewhere."

Suddenly, a muffled buzzing noise filled the room, as if someone was screaming but gagged. Beadle's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "What have you done this time?"

With a flourish, you pointed towards the large wooden closet in the corner of the study. "Why don't you take a look inside, Beadle?"

Beadle hesitated for a moment, then approached the closet cautiously. With a swift motion, he opened the door and Judge Turpin tumbled out, bound and gagged, falling into Beadle's arms. Turpin's eyes blazed with anger and humiliation, but his words were muffled by the silk cravat gagging him.

"You! You treacherous witch!" Turpin's voice was muffled but filled with venom. "I'll have you hanged for this!"

Beadle swiftly removed the gag from Turpin's mouth, allowing him to spew threats and curses. Turpin squirmed in Beadle's grasp, struggling to free himself. "Beadle, you fool! Release me at once! This is insubordination!"

Beadle obeyed with a reluctant nod, releasing Judge Turpin who stumbled to his feet, his face contorted with rage and embarrassment. As Beadle swiftly exited the study, leaving you alone with the seething judge, you turned to face him, the smirk on your face only serving to further incense him.

Turpin lunged towards you, his baritone voice thundering, "You damn gypsy witch! What foul magic have you used on me this time?" His hooked nose twitched with disdain as he grabbed you by the shoulders, his grip tight and unyielding.

You met his furious gaze with a playful glint in your eyes, pretending to be both innocent and provocative at the same time. "Oh, my dear Judge," you cooed, your voice sweet and mocking, "I just wanted to remind you how it feels to be at my mercy."

Turpin's anger only seemed to grow, but beneath it, there was a familiar gleam of desire. "You are an infuriating creature," he growled, his face inches from yours. "You toy with me like a cat with a mouse. Do you take pleasure in humiliating me?"

You chuckled softly, not breaking eye contact. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your hands reaching up to gently touch his face, tracing the lines of his furrowed brow. "But you love it, don't you, Richard? Admit it."

Turpin's expression softened slightly, his sharp features relaxing under your touch. His voice was quieter now, filled with a mix of frustration and longing. "You bewitch me, woman," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have you arrested for this insolence."

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "But you won't," you whispered, your voice a low murmur filled with promise. "Because deep down, you want me just as much as I want you."

Turpin's grip on your shoulders loosened, his resolve weakening. "You are a dangerous temptation," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should resist you."

"But you won't," you repeated, a playful smile spreading across your face. "Because I'm the only one who truly understands you, Richard. The only one who can challenge you."

Turpin's hands slid from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. His voice was low and urgent. "You infuriate me to no end, woman," he breathed, his lips finding yours in a possessive kiss.

You melted into his embrace, knowing that despite his harsh words, you held a power over him that no one else could match. As his hands roamed over your body, you whispered against his lips, "Just admit it, Richard. You love me."

Turpin pulled away slightly, his dark eyes boring into yours. "Damn you," he muttered, his voice thick with desire and frustration. "I love you, you wretched gypsy."

You smirked, tracing a finger along the edge of his jawline. "And I love you, my Judge," you replied, your voice filled with equal parts affection and mischief.

Turpin's lips curved into a reluctant smile, a rare sight, as he watched you waltz away in his judge's robes. His eyes followed your figure, a mixture of frustration and reluctant admiration evident in his expression. He shook his head slightly, knowing that your antics would continue to both infuriate and intrigue him.

As you reached the doorway, ready to disappear around the corner, Turpin acted swiftly, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you firmly against his chest. His hooked nose buried in your hair, he inhaled deeply, the scent of your wildflowers and spice overwhelming his senses.

"Damn witch," Turpin murmured softly, his voice a mixture of exasperation and desire. "You've bewitched me from the moment I saw you."

You tilted your head back, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "Have I, Judge?" you teased, knowing full well the effect you had on him.

Turpin's grip tightened around you, his baritone voice low and urgent. "Yes, you have," he admitted gruffly. "And now, my dear, it's time for you to learn your place."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And what place is that, Judge?" Your voice was teasing, but there was an underlying challenge in your tone.

His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "Today, I'll be teaching you how to be a proper wife."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mix of anticipation and curiosity washing over you. Turpin's intentions were clear, yet you couldn't help but smile mischievously.

Before he could act further, you danced out of his embrace, slipping away from his hold. With a flick of your wrist, you threw off the judge's robes, letting them fall to the floor. You turned to face him, standing there in your gypsy attire, a smirk playing on your lips.

Turpin's eyes followed your every move, a mixture of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. As you began to walk away, he couldn't resist any longer. He lunged forward, capturing you in his arms once again. This time, he didn't let you slip away.

"I warned you, you vexing woman," he growled, his lips finding yours in a fierce kiss. His hands moved possessively over your body, pulling you closer against him.

You melted into his embrace, knowing that despite his stern exterior, he was captivated by you in ways he couldn't resist. His kisses were demanding, his touch possessive, but there was a rawness in his desire that matched your own.

When he finally released you, Turpin rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "You are a maddening creature," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "But you're mine."

You smiled, tracing a finger along his jawline. "And you're mine, Richard," you replied softly, your voice filled with a warmth that surprised even you.

Turpin's eyes softened as he looked at you, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Come," he said finally, taking your hand in his. "Let's put an end to these games for now."

You followed him willingly, knowing that while your playful antics had brought you closer together, there was much more to discover about the complex dance that had entwined your lives.

[aealzx]

Don had been quick to rush out of the plane to get the infirmary ready, but Leo found it was hard for him to put too much urgency into his movements. Twice now Donnie had reacted better to slow, careful motions than abrupt ones. So Leo found he was continuing to be a lot more gentle and careful than strictly necessary when picking him up. He was completely limp, even after having had two and a half hours of sleep. But at least a little bit of color had returned to his skin now. At least Leo thought he looked a little less pale. When both teens were asleep Don had shown Raphael and Leo the video of what Augustine had ordered to be done, and through it they had learned the assistants had taken nearly a liter of blood from Donnie, along with cutting tissue samples from him. It had been enough to get Raphael rapidly walking the length of the plane several times to calm down, and gave Don more of an idea on how to take care of Donnie. Leo just understood a little more why Donnie had reacted defensively towards him, and hoped the teen didn’t wake up in the middle of them treating him.

“Thank April,” Leo found himself saying distractedly to Mom April as she welcomed them home. It was always nice to get a hug from her, but Leo found he was too anxious to stick around and fully catch them up on everything. “I’m okay, can we talk later? Maybe over dinner? You guys might be able to meet the kids then too.”

“...Sure thing, Leo,” Mom April relented, noting how absent he seemed and not wanting to stress him out more. He always had been the one to worry a lot. Even when they were kids.

Leaving them with Mikey, Leo moved quickly to the infirmary to find Raphael sitting near the surgery table with Lil Mikey in his lap, and Don scurrying around the room to gather the supplies he needed. “Over there, Leo,” Don directed, pointing to one of the beds he’d already started gathering items next to. Obediently following the directions, Leo gingerly lowered Donnie to the soft mattress, silently praying that he didn’t wake up just yet. At least they were all breathing better after each getting at least one dose of the antidote. Leo could only wait patiently for Don to finally stop at the bedside, slipping his tactical sleeves off in the meantime, and by then Raphael had managed to convince Lil Mikey to accept treatment and was casually chatting away with him.

“Okay, I think I got everything. Can you support him so his back is to me? I need to figure out how to get that device off,” Don directed, sounding just slightly breathless. Wordlessly doing as he was directed once again, Leo pulled Donnie upright to lean forward against him, looking over the metal backpack from his angle as well to try and help Don figure out how to safely remove it.

“Hey!” Lil Mikey’s voice suddenly grabbed their attention while Don was running his fingers over the cool metal. “Don’t take that off! He needs it!”

The scolding caused Don to flinch, and turn to look over at the other table. “...Needs it as in it’s physically attached to him and offering some sort of life supporting function?” he asked, wanting clarification on what exactly Lil Mikey meant so he could judge if he actually needed to obey his demand, or explain that it was necessary to remove it. He didn’t want to ignore Lil Mikey’s concerns, but he wasn’t sure if they would hinder treatment for Donnie despite being in good will.

“N-no… Nothing like that. It’s just… it’s not safe for him to have it off. Especially when away from home,” Lil Mikey faltered, having not thought his choice of words would make the others think Donnie was some sort of cyborg.

“...Mikey, it’s okay. You’re both safe here,” Raphael assured, reaching out to rest his palm on Lil Mikey’s shoulder.

“Even if it’s a prosthetic, it’s not safe to wear one while sleeping. And I need to check him for injuries. We saw evidence that Augustine’s people may have done something to his back…,” Don explained gently, understanding that Lil Mikey was still wary despite everything that had happened. He couldn’t expect the teens to trust them fully just yet.

It seemed that mentioning that something may have happened to Donnie’s back was enough to get Lil Mikey to completely flip his stance, sucking in a tense breath and wiggling his feet as he considered. “...There’s a button on the inside of the right shoulder,” he relented, frowning miserably. “Just make sure to be super extra careful, okay?”

“We’ll be extremely careful. Don’t worry,” Don assured, grateful for the tip on where to find the trigger to release the device. Once he knew where to look Don quickly found the button and pressed it, marveling as the shoulder pieces flexed outward with a slight hiss, and the belt went slack. “Fascinating…” he breathed, earning a chuckle from Leo as he hefted the metal aside, distracted by trying to get a quick analysis of it while he moved it away..

As Don took the equipment a short ways away, Leo adjusted his grip to keep Donnie supported against him, resting his hands on the teen’s back. But what he felt caused him to stiffen in shock, suddenly afraid to move. His fingers were able to push into what should have been a hard keratin shell, and when his gaze snapped down he saw a significantly flatter shell with four jagged marks across the surface. “....Donnie get back here now,” Leo blurted rapidly, flexing his fingers just slightly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“What is it- Oh!” Don rushed, semi dropping the backpack device the rest of the way to the floor and rushing back over to them. What he saw caused him to freeze as well, but then he gingerly reached out his fingers to brush against Donnie’s back. “...Oh wow…”

“It’s soft right? What does that mean? Is that bad? Shells aren’t supposed to be soft,” Leo rambled, his concern overflowing and pushing his bubbling thoughts to words before he could fully consider them. What had Augustine’s people done? Was it shell rot? Was it some crazy experimental garbage Augustine had infected him with?

“He’s a softshell you idiots. Stop manhandling him!” Lil Mikey blurted irritably, offended on behalf of his brother for the other two curiously running their hands all over his back. “So rude,” he huffed, creating small chains to wrap around Don’s wrists and pull them away.

“Sorry!” Don gasped, snatching his hands back as the orange chains broke him from his stupor, and not minding Lil Mikey scolding him. “Sorry- Let me just… do some quick research- I thought you were both box turtles like us…,” he rambled, pulling his phone out to access the internet.

“Ohmigosh- He’s not an alien. Just treat him like me, but be extra careful, and make sure you clean your hands and everything you use. Leo- my brother says he’s prone to infections. He’s always using antibiotic stuff on him and making sure he gets washed up properly for even small cuts. Otherwise he does everything else pretty much the same,” Lil Mikey huffed again, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

The interaction caused Raphael to snicker despite the situation. He didn’t want to admit he was curious to head over and take a peek for himself, but he figured Lil Mikey would probably throw him across the room with his chains if he did. So he decidedly remained where he was and continued to be amused from afar.

Don listened to what Mikey said, but also sped read through a few sites and different search parameters before he grew more relaxed and sure of his thoughts. “Infection… right, that would explain the fever,” he spoke, mostly to himself, then nodded firmly. “Okay. I got this. Leo, go ahead and lay him back down, then get some water and antibacterial soap. They both need to be cleaned up, and I’ll check the incision sites…”

Leo wasn’t quite as sure of himself as Don was, but at least he had directions now. What Don said made sense to him. If Donnie got infections easily then getting him cleaned up from the grim on him was a priority. Resting him back on the bed, Leo darted off to fetch a soft rag, soap, and water so he could wash off the debris from Augustine’s facility. Don had returned to his focused state after he started peeling the bandaids off, carefully inspecting each injury as he did so. He could at least count it a small blessing that Augustine had apparently ordered only the smallest possible samples be taken. The cuts were only 15 millimeters wide, and less than a millimeter thick. But it looked like they were pretty deep, and Don gingerly cleaned each wound again before rubbing antibiotic ointment on them and getting them covered again.

It didn’t take long before Don had finished addressing the injuries, started an IV with a small amount of antibiotics added to it, and strapped a heart monitor to Donnie’s finger just in case. When he began pulling a blanket over Donnie and tucking him in, Leo knew the treatment was done for now, and asked what he’d been wondering for a while now. “Is he going to be okay?”

Don paused for a second to think, but nevertheless nodded. “I think so. Aside from the bloodloss there isn’t anything incredibly concerning. I think he’s just incredibly exhausted, and that’s why he hasn’t woken up yet. We’ll need to keep an eye on him of course, but at this point I think it’s safe to just let him sleep. The IV fluids will help until his body restores the blood he lost, and we’ll need to get him a good meal when he’s up. But he’ll be fine.”

The explanation, and plans for what to do later, earned a sigh of relief from Leo. It could have been much, much worse. He was glad that, aside from Lil Mikey’s gunshot wound, nothing seemed to be critically serious. “I’ll go check what Mikey is cooking then. And let Master Splinter know we’re all home safe, in case he’s still up.”

“You know he is,” Don gave a small grin, and slight shake of his head.

Leo just laughed quietly, rising to his feet to head to the exit. “Yeah, I know.”

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the fun thing about adding drawings to these is that I can throw in random lil details without derailing the story X'D

Also after seeing some of the comments, don't worry, they're all gonna be fine. I don't believe in hurt without comfort =3= Donnie is just taking an extreme nap to process all the overstimulation and stuff.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

the swan and her princess (part 2)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of Odette.

chapter summary: A pleasant surprise turns out to be possibly not so pleasant after all.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader [aka some sort of a messy Ballet!AU]

word count: 2695

warnings: cussing, ballet terms, creative liberties taken since I’ve never been to Lincoln Center and the research I’ve done may or may not be fully accurate

a/n: :D got a little carried away with this one whoops doing this is much harder than i expected this au is taking up my entire brain pls help

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (pending)

glossary:

Barre: A handrail used by ballet dancers to maintain balance while exercising. One hand is placed on the barre at all times, and the dancer stands beside it.

Kitri: The feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet Don Quixote. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn’t play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. As a dancer’s role, Kitri is athletic and demanding. Kitri wears striking red costumes (look them up, they’re really beautiful) and gestures expressively with a fan in a nod to her Spanish heritage.

Don Quixote: Don Quixote is a ballet in three acts, based on episodes taken from the famous novel Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes.

Kurta: A loose collarless shirt/dress of a type worn by people in South Asia, usually with a salwar, churidars, or pyjama.

Dupatta: A length of material arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez. Usually worn by women from South Asia.

Right after you set foot in the studio and dropped your bag in the corner, you made a beeline for the cacophonous, eagerly buzzing crowd that had formed around the cast list.

You saw a familiar duffel bag and raised your eyebrows slightly. Surprisingly, Gwen had showed up on time. Miracles really did exist.

Murmurs of disappointment and cheers of satisfaction rippled through the dancers in the room as they dispersed one by one, either wearing an expression of genuine excitement or a mask of disguised regret that they hadn’t tried harder or trained longer.

You pushed your way to the front, your eyes immediately darting to the name next to Odette. Your heart sank as you traced over the curly loops and sharper lines of the handwritten letters.

White Swan/Princess Odette : Patricia Roberts.

Pat…?

Sure, she was good, but she was always a little bit too fast for the pieces. She was brilliant at lightning-quick steps in speedy variations, but couldn’t ‘dance like a flowy fairy’, as your ballet teacher said, to save her life.

And the White Swan was all about being slow and sad and graceful.

Your eyes travelled further down the list, going through the roles of Odile, the cygnets, the general swans, and the royals. Each time, you were disappointed. By the time you reached the end of the list, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Your name just… wasn’t there.

You were a part of this, right?

The entire class was taking part in this production. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to not be there. Even if it was just as a regular background swan.

“Can’t find your name either, huh?”

You hadn’t noticed that everyone else had broken off into excitedly chattering groups to start warming up and take their places at the barre, leaving only you and Gwen standing and craning your necks up at the piece of paper that seemed to decide your fate in the studio for the next few months.

You shook your head no, earning a sigh from Gwen that lasted longer than it probably should have.

“Well, we could ask Miss Walker, but she’s not here yet. So…” She shifted awkwardly beside you. You tried to observe her from your peripheral vision without being too obvious. She sounded… tired. Exhausted, really, like she hadn’t slept in a few days and then had to run a marathon around the city. She had done a pretty shoddy job of concealing the heavy dark circles under her eyes — which truly was saying something, because her makeup was usually immaculate.

Fuck. You couldn’t believe it, but for a moment you almost felt sorry for her. Well, maybe not just almost.

“Hey, uh… you good?” You winced at your attempt at a nonchalant tone. Gwen turned to look at you like you had sprouted a third head, slight confusion reflecting in her eyes.

You had never noticed them before, but she had nice eyes, honestly. The expressive kind that could show every little shift in her emotions if she didn’t hide it. And right now she looked like she was about to grin or crack a joke, so you fixed a scowl on your face to ward off any amusing thing she might have been gearing up to say.

The smile in her eyes faded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Time to poke the bee’s nest. “You don’t sound—”

You were cut off as the studio doors flew open, and Miss Walker, looking extremely hassled, practically sprinted in. Random strands of hair poked out of her unusually-untidy bun, and her glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She held her phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Class, pointes on and everyone to the barre right now, please! Finish your second warmup, I’ll be right with you. Gwendolyn, Y/N, may I have a word with the two of you?”

We’re in trouble, mouthed Gwen with a comically scared, wide-eyed, completely exaggerated expression that was very childish and definitely should not have made you want to laugh. You bit the inside of your cheek to clamp down on your smile.

Your ballet teacher led you both over to a corner of the studio, adjusting her glasses right as they were about to fall off. “Okay, so I have some very good news for both of you. You might have noticed that your names weren’t on the final cast list at all, correct?”

You both nodded.

“As it turns out, you’ve been selected by the School of American Ballet to feature in New York City Ballet’s version of Swan Lake! And not selected for just any role — you girls are playing both Swans!”

The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. The sheer improbability of it all was phenomenal — two mere teenagers chosen to perform by the most prestigious ballet company in the world, to dance alongside some of the best professional ballerinas-in-the-making? This was a dream come true; was any of this real?

“You’re joking,” you heard Gwen say beside you. You felt like you were about to lift off and float all the way to the sky when your teacher just gave a broad, proud smile.

Everything after that was surrounded by a hazy glow of euphoric shock — blurred by excitement and lightheadedness and disbelief. You might’ve blacked out at one point, bracing yourself against the wall while you waited for your vision to clear.

Gwen suddenly narrowed her eyes in a wince, squinting as if she had a headache. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” She mumbled hastily, before grabbing her bag and slipping out of the studio. And just like that, she was gone. Again.

You and Miss Walker exchanged a look of slight confusion, but she shrugged. “Well, you’re dismissed for today, Y/N. They’re expecting you tomorrow. You know where the company is, right?”

“Yes, miss.” Of course you did, which ballerina didn’t? Of all the best aspiring ballet dancers’ dream companies, New York City Ballet was right up there with The Royal Ballet in London, Paris Opera Ballet in France, and the Australian Ballet in Melbourne. In other words: this was a giant fucking deal and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You’d have to be beyond idiotic to blow it off.

You arrived at Lincoln Center (which housed the New York City Ballet), fresh-faced and a few minutes early. Well, maybe not so fresh-faced, since you could barely sleep because of nerves. Throughout the night, what felt like a million thoughts that were all variations of what if I’m not good enough? and maybe I’m not cut out for this plagued you well into the early hours of the morning.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Gwen, looking annoyingly (and most probably effortlessly) put-together and honestly quite fashionable. Did she have to have such perfect eyeliner? Even her hair tips seemed pinker than usual.

“Wow, you’re early for once,” You tried to load snark into your tone but failed miserably, earning you an insufferably relaxed chuckle from Gwen.

You shook your head and focused on trying to find the ballet company’s actual studio. Lincoln Center was comprised of a complex of buildings in a giant neighbourhood that you had never been in before, and the David H. Koch Theater which housed the New York City Ballet was just one of those many buildings spread over 16.3 acres.

You were lucky you two had arrived early, because it took you ten whole minutes trying to find the theater - because, as it turns out, you and Gwen had entered from a separate entrance from the main one. Finally you entered the studio, and for a while the only sounds were that of your shoes squeaking on the shiny wooden floors.

Something that struck you was just how big everything about it was.

The light fixtures that lined the walls cast yellow light all along the hallway, illuminating everything with a soft glow the colour of honeyed amber. Just walking that corridor made you feel like you were approaching a royal ballroom, floating around in a gown that could put Kitri’s costume from Don Quixote to shame.

You finally saw the door to the studio. Someone was waiting outside — a man in an all-black suit with close-cropped black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His face broke into a smile as he saw you and Gwen, and without waiting for you to fully make it to the door, he strode forward and clasped your hand.

“Welcome to New York City Ballet! I’m Carlos, the resident choreographer of this company. We’ve been expecting you! Your teacher has informed you of the production we are working on, yes?” He rattled all of this off at full speed in clipped, staccato pronunciations, so fast that it took you a second to register what he was saying.

“Swan Lake, right?” Gwen answered for you.

“Yes, yes. I assume you both know the combinations for both swans?” You nodded maybe a little too eagerly, eliciting a subtle eyebrow-raise from Carlos. “Very good. Come, I will introduce you to Shaoni. She is our support staff, and a former ballet mistress. She taught many young dancers who went on to become famous prima ballerinas. Don’t take her words too seriously; her bark is worse than her bite.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed open the double doors. Immediately the first thing you saw was a woman wearing a blue kurta with a gold-trimmed dupatta, her dark hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that stood out most about her was her highly displeased scowl that had her looking like someone had insulted her entire bloodline three times over, spat in her face and then wrecked her favourite tutu.

Forget a simple resting bitch face, this was a prime, next-level display of an I’m-done-with-this-shit-and-I-need-a-vacation expression.

“Good morning, girls. My name is Shaoni Lahiri, you will address me as Miss Lahiri. You’re a bit early; please begin your warmup while we wait for the others. Also, our artistic director wanted to talk to you about your first day, so once he arrives meet him in his office.” Miss Lahiri had just finished her introductory monologue when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a notification.

Her eyes swiped over the lockscreen for a brief second before she tucked it away again, and you could’ve sworn you saw her roll her eyes slightly when she saw the name of the messager. “Mr. Osborn will see you now. The door to his office is in the far left corner of the studio. Try not to get lost, will you?” Even her sarcasm sounded effortlessly annoyed beyond relief.

And just like that, she abandoned you and went over to compare choreography notes with Carlos.

You turned and followed her directions, noticing a polished wooden door near the end wall of the studio. “Hey, wait for me!” Gwen had been busy gawking at the studio and, really, you couldn’t quite blame her. It truly was something else compared to the much smaller one you were used to.

You knocked once and pushed open the door once you heard a voice call out, “Come in!”

The moment the door swung open, you were immediately blinded by the brightest white light you had ever seen. The entire office looked like it had been bleached to within an inch of its life; there were no specks of dust to be seen and everything was neatly arranged in cupboards and on shelves.

“Oh, hello there!” Once your eyes had readjusted, you noticed a man with greying red-brown hair in a crisp suit with a green pinstripe jacket, an orange vest, and black pants. He sat with his hands clasped neatly on the lacquered teakwood desk in front of him, wearing a polite smile.

“You must be the new arrivals, yes? Let’s see, what are your names…” He opened a folder that had been pushed to one side of the desk, flicking through pages. “Gwen Stacy and Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s us,” You answered quickly, feeling slightly giddy with excitement as the truth sunk in properly. This wasn’t a dream, you had really been selected by the fucking New York City Ballet. You would be working alongside some of the best ballet dancers in the area. Better yet, you had more than a fair chance at dancing Odette. Of course, so did Gwen, but you were obviously the better choice… it wasn’t personal, really, just that she barely attended a full class and therefore should probably dance Odile instead.

“Excellent, excellent. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Norman Osborn, the artistic director of this company.” He stood up and shook your hand. He smiled at Gwen, but instead of smiling back, she just dropped her gaze, inhaling sharply as if she had been stung.

“Something’s not right with him,” She murmured to you the moment Mr. Osborn turned his back to retrieve a folder from his filing cabinet. “I can’t explain it, just… please trust me. I think he’s going to be a threat to us.”

You felt annoyance flare up inside you, white-hot maelstroms of anger expanding by the second. “Please excuse us, Mr. Osborn. Gwen and I need to discuss something.” You tried to sound as inconspicuous and well-mannered as you could. You grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and pulled her through the door, closing it behind you.

“Listen here,” You hissed, letting go of her. “I didn’t make it all this way and train for an extra four hours a day for three years just so you could blow this off. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re some sort of a package deal. So don’t you dare make up stuff and tell me this perfectly polite man is a threat. Is this some sort of scheme? You make me get cold feet, pretend like you’re dropping out, then when you convince me to leave the company you swoop in and snatch up the role of Odette? Is that what you’re playing at?”

Gwen stared at you in utter disbelief, rubbing her shoulder where your grip had tightened just a little too much. “What? No, of course not. I would never—”

“Okay, good. Now let’s get back in there and do whatever the hell he wants us to do, because this is the New York City Ballet and we are not leaving till we’re done with this production, got it?”

For a split second, intense desperation marred her features and she looked like she was about to cry. Then, just as quickly as it had come, all the vulnerability displayed on her face disappeared — but not from her eyes. Her mouth and eyebrows were relaxed, cool, but her eyes shone with a feverish light that made her look a bit manic. Finally she took a deep breath and glared levelly at you.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Something about her tone would have sent a shiver down your spine if you hadn’t been so pumped up about this whole ordeal. You dismissed it easily, penning it, possibly, as the sullen disappointment of a plotter whose evil scheme hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

You entered the office again, Gwen trailing behind you reluctantly, and gave Mr. Osborn a big smile. “You were saying?”

He passed you and Gwen two sheets of paper and a pen. “Sign this. It’s a contract that officialises your stay at this company for the duration of this production.”

You signed it eagerly. Gwen, who was studying the words intently, noticed your impatience and signed it too.

“Perfect,” said Norman Osborn, giving you a big smile. Was it just you, or did it look more plastic this time…?

Nope, definitely just you. He carefully filed the sheets away and clasped your hand in a handshake once again. “Welcome to New York City Ballet. I’m sure this contract will prove to be beneficial to the both of us.”

Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. Probably just her odd headaches acting up again.

Taglist:

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @theprismyyy

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Les Chevaliers d'Emeraude by Anne Robillard

Apprenant que l'Empereur Noir s'apprête à envahir le continent de nouveau, le Roi d'Emeraude, soucieux de protéger tous les peuples d'Enkidiev, ressuscite un ancien ordre de chevalerie. Choisis pour leurs dons particuliers, dotés de pouvoirs magiques, les nouveaux Chevaliers d'Emeraude sont au nombre de sept : six hommes et une femme.Au moment où les compagnons d'armes se disent enfin prêts à combattre, la Reine Fan de Shola demande audience à Emeraude Ier et lui confie Kira, alors âgée de deux ans et encore inconsciente du rôle qu'elle sera appelée à jouer dans le futur des hommes. Ce jour-là, Wellan, le grand chef des Chevaliers, tombe profondément amoureux de la reine. Malheureusement, le Royaume de Shola subira les attaques féroces des dragons de l'Empereur Noir et tous les Sholiens, y compris la reine, seront massacrés.Le coeur brisé, Wellan devra organiser la défense d'Enkidiev et repousser les forces du Mal...

I Am Not Esther by Fleur Beale

After her mother unexpectedly leaves her with her uncle's family, members of a fanatical Christian cult, Kirby tries to learn what has become of her mother and struggles to cope with the repressiveness of her new surroundings and to maintain her own identity.After her mother leaves her with her uncle's family, members of a Christian cult, Kirby tries to learn what has become of her mother and struggles to cope with the repressiveness of her surroundings and to maintain her own identity.

Regarding the... by Kate Klise

The Dry Creek Middle School drinking fountain has sprung a leak, so principal Walter Russ dashes off a request to Flowing Waters Fountains, Etc.

...We need a new drinking fountain. Please send a catalog.

Designer Flo Waters responds:

"I'd be delighted...but please understand that all of my fountains are custom-made."

Soon the fountain project takes on a life of its own, one chronicled in letters, postcards, memos, transcripts, and official documents. The school board president is up in arms. So is Dee Eel, of the water-supply company. A scandal is brewing, and Mr. Sam N.'s fifth grade class is turning up a host of hilarious secrets buried deep beneath the fountain.

Mustang: Wild Spirit of the West by Marguerite Henry

Horses were in Annie Bronn's blood. For as long as she could remember, she had been fascinated by the spirited wild mustangs that roamed free throughout the West. So when greedy cattlemen started to round up the mustangs for slaughter, Annie knew it was up to her to save the breed.

Ghost Knight by Cornelia Funke

Eleven-year-old Jon Whitcroft never expected to enjoy boarding school. Then again, he never expected to be confronted by a pack of vengeful ghosts, either. And then he meets Ella, a quirky new friend with a taste for adventure...

Together, Jon and Ella must work to uncover the secrets of a centuries-old murder while being haunted by terrifying spirits, their bloodless faces set on revenge. So when Jon summons the ghost of the late knight Longspee for his protection, there's just one Can Longspee truly be trusted?

The Roman Mysteries by Caroline Lawrence

The dogs on Flavia's street have started dying mysteriously, and she is determined to find out why. Her investigation leads her to three extraordinary people: Jonathan, her new neighbor; Nubia, an African slave; and Lupus, a mute beggar boy. The four embark on a search for the killer ... and that's when the excitement begins

The Cloak Society by Jeramey Kraatz

The Cloak

An elite organization of supervillains graced with extraordinary powers. Ten years ago the Cloak Society was defeated by Sterling City's superheroes, the Rangers of Justice, and vanished without a trace. But the villains have been waiting for the perfect moment to resurface. . . . Twelve-year-old Alex Knight is a dedicated junior member of Cloak who has spent years mastering his telekinetic superpowers and preparing for the day when Cloak will rise to power again. Cloak is everything he believes in. But during his debut mission, Alex does the He saves the life of a Junior Ranger of Justice. Even worse . . . she becomes his friend. And the more time he spends with her, the more Alex wonders what, exactly, he's been fighting for.

Barnen pa Brakmakargatan by Astrid Lindgren

Look out -- here comes trouble! Jonas, Maria, and Lotta Nyman don't mean to make trouble, but because their idea of fun is to stick salami on the windows, keep the water running from the kitchen faucet until the sink overflows, and lower meatballs down through the chimney, trouble just seems to follow them....

With the Nyman kids around, anything can happen!

The Water Horse by Dick King-Smith

The story begins with a mysterious egg washed up on a Scottish beach, the morning after a great storm. Kirstie and her brother Angus find the egg and take it home. The next day it has hatched into a tiny greeny-grey creature with a horse's head, warty skin, four flippers and a crocodile's tail. The baby sea monster soon becomes the family pet – but the trouble is, it just doesn't stop growing!

Silver Brumby by Elyne Mitchell

A silver brumby is special, but he will be hunted by man and horse alike, and must be stronger than both. Thowra, the magnificent silver stallion, is king of the brumbies. But he must defend his herd from the mighty horse, The Brolga, in the most savage of struggles. But that is not the only danger. Thowra needs all his speed and cunning to save his herd from capture by man. In a desperate chase through the mountains, it seems there is no longer anywhere for him to run to...

[museumofsins-rpg]

déité de charité, god complex; volent les plus riches, font don à une cause choisie; larrons justiciers; trainent leur corps et leur or à la déchetterie.

loin des verdures autrefois contées, au coeur des usures non réclamées; à l'ombre des grands, dans les décombres d'une SHORETRAIL au goût ferreux, ils errent. parmi les carcasses dont on se lasse, à la DÉCHETTERIE se terrent faux chérubins. sous foule de jailles, dissimulent biens usurpés; car beaux LARCINS recèlent richesses d'autrui, arrachées aux jouisseurs sans mérites. quand après avoir monnayé babioles aux mille éclats, coeurs justiciers se réunissent en apôtres des plus démunis. et sous les rais de l'olympe sacré, baignés de l'astre amouré par les icares, s'octroient l'autorité divine. c'est ainsi qu'ils s'adoubent déités des nécessiteux; qu'ils se gargarisent d'être envahisseurs des cieux. mais la cire saigne déjà, et les plumes ne demandent plus qu'à être pleurées.

[gulshanwhydonate]

Maîtriser La Cultivation Des Donateurs: Stratégies éprouvées Pour Fidéliser Les Soutiens

Pour maintenir l’impact de votre organisation à but non lucratif, la cultivation des donateurs est essentielle. Ce guide démystifie le processus, vous fournissant des tactiques éprouvées pour attirer et fidéliser des soutiens dévoués. Plongez dans des conseils pratiques qui se traduisent par plus d’engagement, des dons plus élevés et un avenir plus fort pour votre cause.

Vous vous demandez comment cultiver les donateurs? Essayez la méthode simple. Rejoignez WhyDonate!

Qu’est-ce Que La Cultivation Des Donateurs? La cultivation des donateurs, ou la cultivation des donateurs, transforme stratégiquement la prise de conscience d’un donateur potentiel en un engagement profond envers la cause. Il s’agit d’un processus continu et à long terme nécessitant des efforts soutenus et de la patience, pouvant durer de plusieurs mois à des années. Mettre en œuvre une stratégie de cultivation des donateurs bien planifiée est crucial pour le succès de toute campagne de collecte de fonds. Ces efforts de cultivation des donateurs sont essentiels pour rendre le processus de cultivation efficace et fructueux.

Pour s'infos: https://whydonate.com/fr/blog/cultivation-des-donateurs-strategies/ Keywords; cultivation des donateurs, campagne de collecte de fonds, messages personnalisés, plateforme de financement participatif, WhyDonate, gestion des donateurs, collecte de fonds, médias sociaux, demande de dons

[jeanchrisosme]

Aimer, c’est désirer le meilleur pour l’autre, même s’il a des aspirations différentes des nôtres. Aimer, c’est permettre à l’autre d’être heureux, même si son chemin est différent du mien. C’est un sentiment désintéressé qui naît d’un don de soi, c’est se donner entièrement à partir de notre cœur. Quand on aime, on donne sans rien demander en échange, pour le simple et pur plaisir de donner. Mais il est aussi certain que ce don, ce don de soi, complètement désintéressé, ne se fait que quand on connaît. Nous ne pouvons aimer que ce que nous connaissons, parce qu’aimer veut dire se jeter dans le vide, faire confiance à la vie et à l’âme. L’âme ne s’achète, ni se vend. Et connaître, c’est justement tout savoir de toi, de tes joies, de ta paix, mais aussi de tes contrariétés, de tes luttes, de tes erreurs. Parce que l’amour transcende les disputes, la lutte et les erreurs, l’amour, ce n’est pas uniquement pour les moments de joie. Aimer, c’est la confiance absolue que, quoi qu’il se passe, tu seras toujours là. Non parce que tu me dois quelque chose, non par possession égoïste, mais juste être là, en compagnie silencieuse. Aimer, c’est savoir que le temps n’y changera rien, ni les tempêtes, ni mes hivers. Aimer, c’est donner à l’autre une place dans mon cœur pour qu’il y reste comme un père, une mère, un fils, un ami, et savoir que dans son cœur à lui, il y a une place pour moi. Donner de l’amour ne vide pas l’amour, au contraire, il l’augmente. La manière de donner autant d’amour, c’est d’ouvrir son cœur et de se laisser aimer. – Ne cherche pas à comprendre l’amour, vis-le.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

[aurevoirmonty]

« Nous ne sortirons de cette déchéance que par un immense redressement moral, en réapprenant aux hommes à aimer, à se sacrifier, à vivre, à lutter et à mourir pour un idéal supérieur.

En un siècle où on ne vit que pour soi, il faudra que des centaines, des milliers d’hommes ne vivent plus pour eux, mais pour un idéal collectif, consentant pour lui, à l’avance, tous les sacrifices, toutes les humiliations, tous les héroïsmes.

Seuls comptent la foi, la confiance brûlante, l’absence complète d’égoïsme et d’individualisme, la tension de tout l’être vers le service, si ingrat soit-il, n’importe où, n’importe comment, d’une cause qui dépasse l’homme, lui demandant tout, ne lui promettant rien.

Seuls comptent la qualité de l’âme, la vibration, le don total, la volonté de hisser par-dessus tout un idéal, dans le désintéressement le plus absolu.

L’heure vient où, pour sauver le monde, il faudra la poignée de héros et de saints qui feront la Reconquête. »

Les Âmes qui brûlent, 1964

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

Okay, hold up. I was thinking about how similar I find Meg and Raoul in the ALWverse. Both are brave, sweet, inquisitive, and over all they want Christine safe. They even look a little alike in a lot of productions, with hair often being the same sort of blondish color.

What if....drumroll...they're uncle and niece? What if Madame Giry and Phillippe fell passionately in love in their youth? What if Madame Giry...is La Sorelli in the ALW verse?

Shut up and lemme think this through.

When Sorelli finds out she's pregnant, she's disillusioned by Phillipe's reaction. He insists she marry the first decent single man he can find, and settles on his family's accountant, Jules Giry. He's a kind but older man, and dies a few years into the marriage.

Now I need to plan a fic where I can bring the whole crew together.

Maybe Christine and Raoul move to the de Chagny estate after leaving the Phantom's lair. Philippe is infuriated by their elopement, but can't find it in him to turn his back completely on his baby brother.

Christine struggles to fit in under his cold dismissive eye and the haughty society around her. What she can't know is that Philippe isn't quite as heartless as you'd imagine. When he sees this young woman from the opera house, he can’t help but think of his own daughter just a few years younger. A daughter he's never known outside slipping in late to a show and seeing her lead her line in the corps de ballet.

He may also envy his brother his willingness to marry the woman he loved despite what it might mean for the family name.

Madame Giry learns when to use their situation to her advantage. When the Phantom demands an increase in his salary, she persuades Philippe to at least convince his brother to act as the opera's new patron, if he himself is still too cowardly to regularly attend like he used to.

So when the opera house closes in the wake of the Don Juan disaster, Madame Giry turns to him again. His daughter is now out of a job. While he may be too much of a hypocrite to ever acknowledge her as his, surely he doesn't want her to suffer the fate many attractive young unemployed girls in her position do.

To her surprise, he invites them into his home. Being around Christine and hearing her reminisce fondly about her best friend Meg suddenly makes him determined to get to know his daughter as much as he can without telling her the truth -- Madame Giry is right in that he's too afraid to face that.

So mother and daughter show up with whom they describe as a composer who wants to open a new dance school and theater with the Girys. He goes only by the name of Erik. He's a brilliant but aloof man, probably because what looks like a stroke or some such injury. One half of his face the skin seems pulled in too taught, almost paralyzed. It's almost as if the skin isn't real, instead a mask to try making him look like anyone.

(Sorelli was a dancer in a particular traveling carnival when she was a young woman, and was so incensed by the cruelty around her that she left, determined to find a serious career for herself on the stage -- but not before releasing that poor boy from his cage).

This Erik stares too much at the new Viscountess de Chagny. Yet he's also surprisingly insecure when some of the aristocratic men in their society begin taking notice of Meg. The pretty, peppy dancer hasn't the first clue how to behave properly in society, and that there are men ready to take advantage. Philippe also notices and struggles not to be too protective.

So what happens when Raoul notices for the first time how much Meg resembles his sister Roberte when they're standing next to each other? What of Christine's terrified conviction about who this Erik really is? What of Erik yearning to watch over her once more, his beautiful angel, his life -- dammit, must this damn Dauphin So-and-So keep looking at Meg like she's steak tartare?

And what of that despite the years that have passed and the bitterness and guilt between them, there may still lie a deep love between Philippe and La Sorelli?

A Little Night Music meets Phantom, essentially.

Tagging @thewildwestpyro

[camisoledadparis]

saga: Soumission & Domination 367

Organisations ...

Avant de partir j'ai dû organiser ma petite société afin qu'elle tourne sans moi. D'aussi loin, je ne peux gérer en direct tous les rendez-vous de mes collaborateurs. Il n'était pas question non plus d'en laisser la charge à PH. J'ai donc décidé Jonathan d'en prendre la direction pour ces 6 mois à venir. 

Moyennant une augmentation de son salaire de coach (qu'il voulait refuser) et en attendant qu'il se fixe coté boulot (ouvrir une salle de gym, faire coach privé...) puisqu'il a terminé sa formation, il aura de quoi s'occuper.

Sa mission principale est de gérer les rendez-vous de mes escorts, faire le relationnel avec les clients et clientes et si l'occasion se présente un peu de recrutement. Mais pour ce dernier point il devra avoir l'aval de PH.

Les premiers échos qui me parviennent me prouvent que j'ai fait le bon choix. Tout d'abord il connait la totalité de ma clientèle, deuxièmement il est respecté de tous ses collègues et pour finir je le sais très sérieux.

Avec André qui m'envoie mensuellement les rapports financiers de mes deux entités je suis serein.

USA :

A Berkeley l'intégration s'est faite sans difficultés particulières. Contrairement aux autres étrangers, ma " pré-intégration " fait la différence et aussi le fait que durant la première quinzaine je me sois essayé aux différents sports proposés.

Sans être connu comme le loup blanc, je suis le " frenchie qui se bat comme un pro ". Et même si c'est leur section (arts martiaux) qui me capte, je tiens à essayer le plongeon avec Tyler.

Je peine un peu à rentrer dans l'académisme de leur façon de pratiquer. Trop souvent j'utilise des mouvements ou des coups provenant de disciplines soeurs !

Un des partenaires de combat (Robert) s'étonne que je connaisse certaines prises qu'il sait avoir été développées par leurs Navy-Seals (son frère en est un). Sans trop entrer dans les détails, je lui explique que j'ai deux copains qui ont fait un stage commando avec eux et qu'à leur retour, ils nous avaient appris quelques prises.

Du coup, quand son frère revient chez ses parents, il m'invite un WE.

Le frère (Donovan) est une montagne de muscle !! Avec mes 85Kg je suis tout petit ! A 27ans, Il est lieutenant et fait dans les 1m95 et me prend bien 15 à 20Kg de masse. Robert me présente comme un combattant atypique qui ne rentre dans aucunes disciplines de leur section.

Don nous entraine vers un des garages qu'ils ont transformé en salle de sport. Au centre un tatami conséquent leur sert pour la lutte. Torse nu avec juste un short sur les fesses, j'affronte le pro.

Il me laisse attaquer et m'évalue. Mes prises tombent à plat quasiment 9 fois sur 10. Et la 10ème je me demande s'il n'a pas fait exprès de me laisser percer sa garde.

Quand il passe en mode actif, je me retrouve sur le dos sans avoir vu le coup venir. A nos côtés, Robert est mort de rire.

Don me tend la main et me relève. Il m'explique que ce que je sais faire est intéressant mais qu'il serait temps de passer à la vitesse supérieure. Quand je lui dis que ça m'a quand même permis de mettre à terre un " boeuf " Anglais lors des 24h du Mans moto et de mettre à mal quelques mecs mal intentionnés, il me répond que ce n'était que des amateurs.

Au diner, il nous dit qu'il avait entendu parler de mes deux copains. Même sans connaitre leurs " trucs " de commando, ils avaient impressionnés ses collègues. Quand il me demande comment je les connais, je lui dis qu'ils sont tous les deux escorts pour ma boite et que l'apprentissage du combat avait commencé pour que mes " employés " soient tous à même de se tirer de situations imprévues.

Devant leur incompréhension, je précise que la majorité de mes escorts est plutôt jeunes 18- 25 ans et que mes clients sont plutôt eux dans la 50aines et parfois plutôt massif et pas que de la bite. On ne peut pas faire plus clair !

Les deux me disent qu'ils n'ont pas de problème avec " ça ". Don me dit même que j'ai bien fait, et que s'ils se battent tous comme moi, ils ont déjà le niveau pour se débarrasser de pas mal d'individus.

Je leur raconte l'anecdote de mon petit beau-frère et de son copain qui ont envoyé 4 mecs à l'hôpital. Ça les fait bien rire.

Le dimanche, alors que Robert me propose de passer la journée avec lui et des copains, Don lui dit qu'il va exploiter mon potentiel. Je reste donc avec mon Navy Seal personnel.

Petit déjeuner composé d'un litre de protéine puis on attaque l'échauffement, 1h à suer sur les machines de cardio !!

On passe enfin aux choses sérieuses. Pendant deux heures, il m'explique des prises et on les teste. Il est super pédagogue et j'arrive à le faire tomber plusieurs fois (bon quand il ne résiste pas trop).

Midi, pause. Devant un T-bone d'un Kg, on parle de choses et d'autres. Il me demande comment je suis venu à diriger une boite d'escort. Puis ça glisse sur les désirs des clients. J'explique que je donne dans le jeune mec plutôt musclé, imberbe avec de grandes capacités d'accueil et j'ajoute " comme moi ".

Tous deux revêtus d'un simple short serré, je ne peux m'empêcher de lui faire remarquer qu'il bande. Pour louper un morceau pareil il aurait fallu être aveugle. Son sexe repousse le tissu au-dessus de sa cuisse gauche sur plus de 20 cm. Son gland est parfaitement moulé et enfle le tissu de 5mm de plus.

Je lui rappelle que j'ai été le premier Escort de ma boite et que s'il le désir je ne serais pas contre un " corps à corps ". Il comprend l'allusion, hésite et me dit que Robert ne rentrera probablement pas avant la fin d'après-midi.

Si je comprends bien à mon tour, c'est un oui à ma proposition.

Sans fromage ni dessert, on retourne sur le Tatami.

Ça démarre avec un peu de lutte où je cède très vite et sur le dos me laisse dominer par la " bête ". Il me surprend à me rouler un patin avec la langue. Contre ma cuisse je sens sa barre brulante.

Je le retourne (il se laisse faire !) et descend sur ses pecs. Il gémit dès que j'attaque ses tétons. Je descends encore, impatient de voir l'objet de mon désir. Avec beaucoup de mal, même s'il décolle ses fesses du sol, je retire son short. Une bite d'environ 23 x 5/6 vient claquer sur ses abdos. Je me jette dessus et l'enfourne jusqu'à l'os. Reflexe, il pousse son bassin pour m'en mettre plus et ses mains viennent retenir ma tête.

Il me relâche juste avant que je ne meurs étouffé ! Me prend sous les aisselles et me remonte pour me galocher à nouveau.

Il me traite de " crazyman ", que c'est la première fois qu'il réussit à la mettre entière dans une bouche. Rien que des petits joueurs les " locaux " !! J'y retourne et il est moins brutal vu qu'il sait que je le refais quand il veut.

Il me surprend à nouveau en m'attrapant et en me plaçant en 69 pour me sucer simultanément. Bien qu'il donne dans le genre pompe à vide (il n'y a pas grand-chose de doux dans le bonhomme) je bande comme un fou. Rapidement il s'attaque à ma rondelle et là aussi c'est avec de grands coups de langue qu'il me la lubrifie.

Quand je me sens prêt, je prends l'initiative. Il est toujours dos au sol. Je me retourne et enjambe sa taille. Je me penche pour lui rouler une pelle et lentement pousse mes petites fesses vers son sexe. Très vite son gland bute dessus. Je joue avec de petites pressions sur son gland venu très naturellement se placer pile au bon endroit.

Il tend le bras vers son short et en sort une kpote. Sans quitter ses lèvres, je la lui enfile et, aussitôt m'enfonce son gland dans l'anus. Putain d'effet !!! Ma rondelle s'est refermée sur lui et sa compression fait rugir Don qui m'attrape par les hanches.

Sans précaution, totalement dominé par ses instincts, il me plante ses 23cm bien profond.

Je le sens passer et ne peux retenir un cri proche du hurlement. Entre douleur et plaisir mon cerveau n'arrive pas à se décider. Comme il reste quelques minutes sans bouger, c'est le plaisir qui prend le pas. J'arrive à me détendre et commence à " trotter " sur ma monture (plutôt mon monteur).

De son côté il reprend ses esprit et décide de mener la danse. Il se redresse, sans sortir de mon cul, il se lève, mes 85Kg n'ayant pas l'air de peser plus que ça. Je m'accroche à son cou le temps qu'il me porte jusqu'à un banc de muscu sur lequel il me dépose. Mes chevilles arrivées sur ses épaules, il me défonce en beauté. Je le sens quand même retenir ses coups de bassin bien qu'il s'enfonce totalement à chaque fois. Son visage est différent dans le plaisir, plus jeune. Il plante ses yeux dans les miens et me dit que je suis le meilleur coup qu'il ait jamais tiré (bon la poésie n'est pas son fort). De mon côté je le situe dans les 10 meilleurs mecs qui m'ont défoncé la rondelle.

 Il fait glisser mes épaules vers le sol, retenant de sa bite mon cul à hauteur du banc. Petite baise en chandelle avant qu'il ne se retourne et m'encule façon chien en rut. Même là son gros gland frotte ma prostate à chaque passage. Quand je le préviens qu'à force je vais me juter dessus, il décule complètement provoquant la chose. Je m'en fout des litres sur le torse et le visage.

Debout ma tête entre ses pieds, il se branle une fois et m'asperge de son jus. Question quantité il est pas mal non plus. Il m'allonge et vient me recouvrir de son corps. On colle !

Après un bon 1/4 d'heure, il se met sur les coudes, me regarde et me dit qu'il comprend qu'on lui ait dit que les deux " frenchies " étaient bon aussi du cul si c'est moi qui les ai formés.

Je lui demande " gay ?", réponse " non t'es mon premier mec ". Je suis flatté, on a quand même baisé pendant 3h1/2 !

Passage sous les douches et reprise doucement des clefs apprises le matin même.  

 C'est alors que Robert nous rejoint. Quand il entre dans le garage il trouve une forte odeur de sperme frais. On a beau faire les innocents, il est sûr que nous avons baisé. Don finit par admettre la chose sans que ça provoque de drame.

Pour lui montrer qu'on avait quand même travaillé aussi, je combats avec lui et arrive à le plaquer au sol avec mes nouvelles prises.

Avant de partir, Don me fait promettre de revenir avant qu'il ne termine sa permission. Bien sûr pour que je m'améliore en combat ! Rires de robert qui ajoute en prenant la voix de son frère " j'ai trop aimé te défoncer la rondelle " et malheureusement pour lui, il ne s'est pas écarté assez vite et se retrouve plaqué au sol.

Je profite qu'il soit maintenu fermement pour me pencher et lui faire un bisou sur les lèvres. Je conclu par un " t'es jaloux, t'en veut aussi ?" qui désarme les protagonistes. Faut dire que Robert est pas mal non plus !! (Déso on ne se refait pas !).

Durant cette permission, je le reverrai encore 2 fois, autant pour le sport que pour le " sport ". Je crois que ce qu'il a le plus apprécié chez moi ç'aura été mes gorges profondes et moi, sa merveilleuse utilisation de ses 23cm.

De mon côté, j'ai laissé tomber le club de combat avec l'aval des coaches pour intégrer plus sérieusement l'équipe de plongeon. Tyler est ravi de me présenter ses potes. Plus fins que les combattants, ils ne manquent pourtant pas de musculature. Du coup, là, je détonne par mon physique plus " rond ". Le coach principal me prend en charge et je montre mes faibles connaissances en plongeon mais aussi mes compétences de nageur. Si les premières le laissent de marbre, il me dit que je ne suis pas ridicule en crawl et en papillon. Je lui explique que j'ai, en France, un maitre-nageur particulier 2 x par semaine mais que ma piscine ne fait que 25m.

Il me fait nager avec l'équipe. Mes performances me placent dans le milieu du tableau, ce qui est déjà pas mal pour un mec qui passe plus de temps à soulever des barres et à se battre qu'à nager. Tyler est tout fier d'avoir amené un Français qui se défend bien.

Et le plus, ils sont tous en maillots de bain moulant !!

Le plongeon c'est finalement super technique. Il ne suffit pas de tomber dans l'eau la tête et les bras en avant mais de réaliser des figures. On passe aussi un bon moment sur les trampolines pour exécuter les sauts, les vrilles.

A 3 m le temps de chute est très court et je n'arrive pas à placer mes rotations. Le coach m'envoi sur le plongeoir de 10m ! En fin de séjour, j'arriverai à exécuter quelques sauts sympas et surtout j'aurais passé de bon moment dans l'équipe (avec l'équipe, pour ceux qui s'imagineraient que je les ai tous enculé).

Bon c'est vrai que je m'en suis fait quelques un quand même.

Mais c'est avec Tyler et Dane que je traine le plus. Ils m'ont fait visiter tout San Francisco, de Mission au sud au Golden Gate et de la baie à l'océan. J'ai été ému par le monument dédié au homos exécutés dans les camps Nazi, impressionné par leur musée de la légion d'honneur qui contient un bon nombre d'oeuvre de Rodin et amusé par les phoques du pier 29. Bien sûr j'ai été voir les Pink Ladies, ces maisons victoriennes les premières peintes de couleur.

Jardinier

~~

turning his back to 2024

a nice place where to spend time

[lerefugedeluza]

Bon. Aujourd'hui j'ai lancé les souscriptions & les dons sur ma chaîne Youtube (si vous voulez souscrire, c'est par ici -> 🌸 ) et c'est à presque 29 ans que pour la première fois de ma vie, j'ose me jeter dans ce grand vide qu'est la tentative de vivre de son art. Je n'ai aucune idée de si des gens vont me soutenir financièrement, tout ce que j'espère c'est au moins ne pas me prendre une vague de haine dans la figure. Je suis quand même fière de moi d'avoir osé sauter ce pas, d'autant que c'est le premier d'une longue série de tentatives pour "gagner de l'argent avec mes créations". Je suis quand même super stressée car j'ai décidé qu'en 2025, je me consacrerait à 100% à la création pour tenter de devenir artiste. C'est fou, l'année prochaine sera l'année de mes trente ans, je me demande ce que j'ai foutu depuis tout ce temps, pourquoi je n'ai pas osé avant. J'ai l'impression d'avoir déjà perdu tellement de temps, j'espère que ça marchera tout ça.