SHADOW BANKER.

[parieur]

# PARIEUR. ━━━━ An independent blog featuring an original portrayal of Le Chiffre, main antagonist of Casino Royale, set within a curated, adapted iteration of the Bond Universe. Partner focused, plotting and lore heavy. This blog is inspired by spy movies, games and novels, retrofuturism, life as a game of chance, pleasure as reward, gambling as a calculated risk, grey morality, violence as a last resort & perfectionism as tool of survival. Some mature   themes will be present:  sexual content, gambling, violence,  crim*nal activities  &   more. By Spades [ Lesbian | Brazilian | 29 ] *

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Affiliated with : @thefixer, @flmed, @rivhers, @sealure, @ionzhar, @agenseas , @valheys, @2pistols, @venimiss, @osuspiria, @assetgray / @algorithymn, @mpiru & @1854s. **

Current Media Obsessions, References & Inspirations : Casino Royale [ Novel, 1953 ] ; The Bond Movies [ 1962 - 2019 ] ; The Blacklist [ 2013 ] ; The Day of the Jackal [ 2024 ] ; The Agency [ 2024 ] ; Crash [ 1996 ] ; Atomic Blonde [ 2017 ] ; The Gray Man [ 2022 ] ; Tenet [ 2020 ] ; First Light [ Game, 2026 ] ; Tomb Raider: Definitive Survivor Trilogy [ Game, 2013 - 2018 ].

* Do not follow or interact if under 21 years of age. Please read at least my rules before following or interacting. Information on verses can be found at my carrd. Any doubts regarding expanded lore, headcanons or locations can be clarified through dm's.

** Mutuals in common with any affiliated blog who would like to build a shared context are welcome, even encouraged, to do so, I just ask that all parties involved are communicated and agree. I strongly believe that roleplay is about community.

ɪ. CARRD ɪɪ. LORE. [ under co. ]  ɪɪɪ. USFW. ɪᴠ. PINTEREST.

[2pistols]

THE FUNERAL HAD A PARTICULAR SCENERY TO IT. a feeling close to numbness in her experience, like the spread of ink over parchment or a cesspool of the deepest shadows. it was a private ceremony, meaning no press or cameras, no documented congregation except by those deemed important enough to attend. she had come across a few acquaintances on the way into the chapel, shared kind words and memories in ways that funeral goers should. it was beneficial for her to play the socialite at times like these, as it was a routine she could perform with her eyes closed. shaking others’ hands with condolence even if apathy crept in her heart by the minute. death was an old friend to her that knocked at her door at any chance. but it was the circumstances of this death that felt out of grasp. something missing, something far too coincidental.

she checks her phone, then stows it appropriately. as visitors talk among themselves, she takes her leave to the furthest corridor of the cathedral in procession with the stations of the cross upon the walls. the light that flooded through the windows is gone, dim and dimmer still. ❝didn’t see you come in,❞ she starts, stepping closer to @parieur’s familiar figure in the darkness. slanted shadows make them out to be almost faceless at certain angles, though even then she was sure he noticed the furrow in her brow. her attempt to make sense of such deadly circumstance. ❝… three associates dead within a week, each with ties to operations that british intelligence‘s been poking their fingers in?❞ she scoffs. ❝unless they all had a fondness for getting themselves caught in accidental tragedies, i’d say this wasn’t a coincidence.❞ her curiosity sharpens with every second that passes. the reasoning could be anything: a mole, and insider, retaliation from a rival cabal, or even quantum’s own purging of potential traitors. it was hard to glean with her missing pieces of a very vital puzzle. and perhaps the pieces weren’t missing, but were purposefully withheld from her. her voice lowers. ❝is there something you’re not telling me?❞

[parieur]

V.06 ⎯⎯ Every single operative, agent and high-level member knew there was only one way out of their network: Death. That was non-negotiable, but sometimes people seemed to forget and try to crawl themselves out through deals with the various intelligence agencies of the world, or expecting the protection of another organization. No one ever came to their interviews, all promptly taken off the playing board before they could consummate their betrayal, they have people everywhere. He entered through the back of the church, a smaller door used by the parishioners that worked in the church, quietly observing the service with little to no interest. There is no redemption, no mercy and no solace for informants... The man wasn't as smart as he thought he was, allowing himself to develop something that could only be called 'guilty consciousness'. What a waste. The buzz growing from the small crowd snapped Le Chiffre fully out of inner judgement, and he scanned the crowd's familiar faces for the one living person he was there to see.

Of course he expected her to have noticed the pattern by now. ❛❛ There's always something happening under the water, Ms. Croft. ❜❜ He didn't smile, but she knew him well enough to tell his tone was neither worried nor angered, and guess from there who was behind it. He nods his head ot signal for her to follow, taking slow steps back to whence he entered from. ❛❛ You see, not everyone is apt for the world we chose to live in, but everyone is accountable for their own choices. ❜❜ A halt as he opens the door. ❛❛ He was the last one. ❜❜

[parieur]

As I am re-reading a few bits and pieces of the novel, I do need to yet again point out: Le Chiffre doesn't harm women, nor does he let the men under his command do so, he usually has women in his crew that are the ones sent to deal with the problem if the target happens to be a woman.

[ortums]

*   starter ;      @parieur ꜝꜝ

sun beams and the smell of salt water ... as a seagull circles above ,   ever searching for food to fill it's bottomless stomach .   screeching to call another ,   bond arrives at the marina with moneypenny in his ear .   going over the plan ,   reminding him that yes ,   this wasn't an ideal situation   ( BUT A LAST OPTION TO GET TO THE REAL TARGET . )   never mind that it was james' idea anyhow ,   he was merely taking a point from greenway .   mi6 was running out of time and they had limited options on how to proceed .   although to be fair ,   m has no idea that he was here to begin with .   dealing with le chiffre once more ,   A MAN THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD .   

' oh don't worry moneypenny ... le chiffre's yacht is a big as his ego .   YOU CAN'T MISS IT . '   james walks up to the yacht and nods to the two men dressed in black ,   stopping short of boarding .   " gentlemen , "   he smirks before something catching in his peripheral .   james tips his chin to see le chiffre in the flesh ,   head tilting off to side as moneypenny says something under her breath in his ear .   " say ... what's the going rate for a dead man these days ?   fake your own death ,   come back to life like jesus christ himself ... except you're a lot less holy - er than i expected you to be . "

[parieur]

V.07 ⎯⎯ The price of redeeming and reconstructing his stance within Spectre had been paid in blood and a hefty interest rate taken from the money he had lost and regained through other equally shady means. While his eyes watched the marina thoughts darted between some investments that should be turning a profit at any point in the following hour and the thought of five days stuck with the man he should've had killed when he had the chance. Speaking of the devil... Le Chiffre pushed himself away from the metal railing with a sip to his gin-and-tonic and walked to the passerelle to receive his 'guest'. ❛❛ Mr. Bond. ❜❜ The name came followed by a fiendish smile, no point in a restrained display, James had already seen up-close the sharp teeth past the facade.

❛❛ What can I say? Cults always made a good profit, and I do believe in a good rate of return. But you don't look too bad yourself, back to health and still funny. ❜❜ He took a step to the side, gesturing with his glass toward the shaded living room in the main deck. ❛❛ Why don't you take a seat? ❜❜ The enemy of my enemy isn't my friend.

[teschmacher]

In this low lighting, the gold from Eve's dress seems to glisten against the darkness, but it's her smile that dazzles in the way every beautiful woman's does. That smile of hers is more playful than warm, more naughty than kind. She drums her fingers against the wooden top of the table to match the beat of her own heart. She means to build anticipation, to make Le Chiffre wonder if she'll answer him or not.

❛ I see that... You wanna know how dangerous I am, ❜ she laughs like it's a silly thing to even consider. Yeah, Eve Teschmacher wears her heart on her sleeve too much to ever be called mysterious, but she is clever. You don't make a kingdom crumble with the click of a thousand selfies if you're not. ❛ Am I close? ❜

[parieur]

V.05 ⎯⎯ He had seen that cunning sparkle plenty of times before, from women of all sorts, but it never ceased to be an interesting thing to be watched. He had seen that same sparkle be malicious, eventually turning quite bad to all involved, but given what he knew [ and what he could tell ] that wasn't the case with Eve, the woman simply had a breaking point. He respected the survival instinct. Le Chiffre decided to indulge her, a smirk of amusement finally breaking his usually stern expression. ❛❛ The thought crossed my mind. ❜❜ A honest answer... He did have a soft spot for beautiful women.

❛❛ Now... shouldn't you be spending your time with someone else? ❜❜ His eyes drifted towards the bar, spending but a moment at the crowd before returning to her. ❛❛ Or are you here by yourself? ❜❜ He was, for a change, but that could always be mended.

[venimiss]

his  caution  over  her  ‘  line  of  work  ’  is  met  with  a  coy  shrug,  and  smile  to  match  smile.  no  teeth  this  time.  could  she  be  any  more  obnoxiously  lady-like?  she  found  herself  growing  excited  over  that  resigned  sigh.  she  loved  winning,  even  if  its  only  a  game  within  a  game.  it  wasn’t  his  real  name,  of  course.  but  his  lie  went  down  smoothly  enough.  like  a  well-crafted  spirit.  not  all  of  them  did.  her  eyebrows  raised  slightly,  as  if  surprised  by  the  sudden  surrender  of  information.  the  seamless  transition  from  coy  to  something  that  floated  in  the  vicinity  of  impressed,  genuine,  and  altogether  pleased.  it  gave  the  impression  of  a  veil  lifted,  a  guard  slightly  dropped…  of  naivety.  she  rewarded  him  with  her  own  ‘  name  ’.  ❛  𝑎𝑚𝑒́𝑙𝑖𝑒.  ❜

a  moment  caution  betrayed  her,  bringing  her  eyes  down  to  the  hands  that  slipped  into  his  pockets  before  back  to  his  face.  cocky  bastard.  playing  at  nonchalance.  though,  she  wasn’t  entirely  sure  the  nonchalance  was  an  act  at  all.  which  was  a  testament  to  how  believable  it  was.  she  takes  another  sip  of  her  drink,  a  reset,  before  setting  it  down.  she  gives  a  look  to  her  suitcase  before  following  with  an  almost  sheepish  laugh.  she  held  in  her  hand  the  very  proof  that  she  was  not  as  she  appeared.  a  metaphorical  stain  on  whatever  picture  she  thought  to  paint.  of  all  the…  she  gave  a  chuckle  to  mask  her  irritation.  ❛  𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙,  𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑦  𝑎𝑟𝑒  𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦  𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟  𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑡  𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒.  𝑎𝑠  𝑖'𝑚  𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒  𝑦𝑜𝑢  𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.  ❜  she  danced  around  the  answer.  ❛  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑓𝑎𝑟  𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒  𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡  𝑡𝑜  𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡  𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛  𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑑  𝑜𝑟  𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑦.  ❜

[parieur]

V.01 ⎯⎯ For someone who valued efficiency as much as he did 'Nicolas' certainly enjoyed the theatrical air those meetings always seemed to carry. Her name surely wasn't her own, but she chose one with a nice ring to it. His left hand moved out of his pocket, reaching again for the glass and discreetly turning for him to check the time, he had three hours, give or take. His eyes narrowed for the fraction of a second at her slip, lips curving into a slightly sharper smirk. ❛❛ << I will have to take your word for it. >> ❜❜ She remained his focus, framed above the rim of his glass, as he took a calculated last sip of the courvoisier.

People like them were often not to be trusted, and he was sure she knew he was lying about himself as well as he knew she was, but that didn't mean they weren't prone to basic human instincts. He had noticed interest, it was time to test if it was enough to lead to something else. Putting the drink back down, he leaned an inch toward her, with the same wolfish smile still drawn on his lips, but his voice had dropped an octave. ❛❛ << Now let me cut to the chase. Would you like to come upstairs to my room, Amelie? >> ❜❜ While worded with certain politeness, the underlying meaning was obvious.

[parieur]

SHUFFLE YOUR “ON REPEAT” PLAYLIST AND POST THE FIRST TEN SONGS.

1. ANGEL, Massive Attack. 2.ONLY, Nine Inch Nails. 3.Ответа Нет / OTVETA NET, Molchat Doma. 4.PELEJEI, Marina Sena. 5.ROMANCE, Varials. 6.THE HOLLOW, A Perfect Circle. 7.NEED TO KNOW, Doja Cat. 8.CANTO DE OSSANHA, Vinicius de Moraes, Baden Powell. 9.BEAUTY SCHOOL, Deftones. 10.REMEMBER DEPRAVITY, AND THE ORGIES OF ROME, Ordo Rosarius Equilibro.

[parieur]

I do not talk enough about the fact Chiff cries a blood tear from his left eye whenever his heart rate is higher [ so, could happen during sex, if too anger or stressed, or just during a casual workout ] or if he is overexerting his eyesight. It also happens unprompted couple times per day... It was all because of the way his eye injury healed and he never bothered to see it fixed, if anything it adds a menacing, slightly inhumane trait that can be useful to him.

[thefixer]

she was given less access to things than she used to .   A PRIVILEGE THAT SHE RELINQUISHED ONCE SHE BETRAYED HIM .   the men talk ──      they question and have the doubts .   the old and the new guard all whispering about her presence there and what it means to their boss .   she wouldn't give them the satisfaction in knowing that she was once a valued member   ( and often time lover )   of their boss .   once upon a time she adorned blonde hair and embodied the feminine more casually .   she spoke of her french family and her work as a liaison to the french embassy .   a perfectly and well crafted web of half - truths and proper lies that told a convincing story .   that she was a woman of privilege and wealth ,   when underneath it all was a woman whose job it was to follow him .   NOW LOOK WHERE SHE ENDED UP ...

time has past and mia has found something to do that was slightly more meaningful .   if by meaningful it was to be a fixer of sorts .   a contact that helps with someone else's problems ,   and those problems were often criminally centered .   it took no convincing of herself that this is the sort of world that she belonged to .   so kratt and the other's may talk behind her back ,   or watch her every move in silence .   THERE IS POWER IN NOT GIVING A SINGLE FUCK .   somehow that seems to irrtate them more .   thankfully she wasn't working for kratt or the men that follow in line .   

she guides marcel into his dinner jacket one arm at a time .   pulling it upwards for it to settle upon his shoulders .   IN A WAY ,   THIS WAS AN ACT OF INTIMACY THAT SHE HASN'T SHOWN SINCE BEING WITH HIM ALL THAT TIME AGO .   it almost felt comfortable ... too comfortable .   " at least i can never say that you don't know how to dress . "   her way of compliment without being overly personal ,   this was after all a serious matter and a professional one at that .   even though her smile reflects his own ,   something not so odd but familiar as it suited them both .   mia brings her hands to a close in front of her ,   " birdwatchers ? "   it takes her a moment to realize what he means ,   then she gives le chiffre a nod .   " is that where i come in ? "   he speaks of death and to her there is an understanding where her job may be .   " unless you had something else in mind for me to be doing . "   

she acknowledges his compliment with a simple hum .   SHE'S PLEASED .   though in retrospect she knew he'd find the dress attractive .   then she plays off his comment with a shrug of her shoulders .   " just somethin' i had in the back of my closet . "   words spoken with a casual cadence as she speaks the truth .   the dress was seeing the back of her closet after she had bought it in an auction   ( not quite like this one ,   but equally ,   if not more popular . )   " besides , "   she trails off before turning her back to marcel and walks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom once more .   " i thought it would makes you feel a little bittersweet . "

[parieur]

V.02 ⎯⎯ He wasn't a man given to dwell in the past, no, Le Chiffre took whatever lessons there were to be learned from the occasion and moved on, save for the occasional hateful thought when appropriate. Time isn't a currency to be wasted, and mulling over mistakes and shortcomings was a sure way to throw it out the window [ on top of that he always had the gut feeling, ever since meeting the woman that was then Jacqueline, that she wouldn't be someone who he could ever get away from ] He sure wouldn't start second guessing himself now. He watched her leave and took a last glance at the mirror to seize himself, using the moment to a last fixing of his sleeves while silently agreeing with her compliment, a bit of arrogance that Le Chiffre had always allowed from himself. He earned it.

Again, Le Chiffre wasn't given to ruminating the past, waste of time.... but one couldn't quite help it when offered on a silver platter [ or in this case, by perfect lips ], could he? There was no way not to be bittersweet about her, about what was and what could've been, to mourn a scenario that only ever existed in imagination and lie was as foolish and melancholic as it was unavoidable. Following her back into the room, he decided he didn't had time for that. ❛❛ Bittersweet? Hardly, dear. Lucky. ❜❜ An appropriate lie spoken with the full confidence of truth and with a following truth: anyone who did as much as glance at her looking like what he thought to be the closest thing to a modern Venus would deem him lucky, they both knew that. He did too, all things considered, whether he would consider it true by the end of the night or not was another matter.

❛❛ Couldn't suit you better. ❜❜ A brief remark offered with a smirk as he walked to the nearby table where his 'gadgets' were lined. As much as he wanted to indulge a bit more on the attributes that first got him wrapped around her finger, duty calls. ❛❛ Now, what I do want you to do is find a way to tag them, like cattle. ❜❜ From the objects, he prioritized the identical black handle switchblades, keeping one in his pants' right pocket and the other in his jacket's left one. A small glance to her and he points his index to a silver case left over a cabinet across the room. ❛❛ Those are the said tags, as discreet as they could be. Once you get them attached, the others will take care of the rest. ❜❜ Cigarette case, lighter, wallet, phone, all now placed on their assigned pockets. ❛❛ If you want to join them on the hunt later, pick your mark and have fun. ❜❜ Although he would prefer another end of the night.

[parieur]

Good morning! Given the dash has made my brain jolt awake at the smallest mention of the JSECU [ James Spader Erotic Cinema Universe ], I come here to point out I have proper canon to back up Chiff's debauchery and I only keep it tame because I'm not good at writing that. That said, following bits and pieces I cherry-pick from 1953's Casino Royale:

[spadesgifs]

# RUFUS SEWELL # T'NIA MILLER ━━ The Diplomat: Season 01 [2023]

[parieur]

A little change in how I operate on this blog: Threads have preference, they will remain being answered in chronological order, then come asks/my own inbox. Asks from other people that can be turned into replies are considered Threads, but do note I can't reply EVERY ask, I am just a little lesbian trying her best. If it is something you REALLY want me to reply, do let me know please ❤︎. Yes, I still have the speed of a salted snail.

[parieur]

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS! answer and tag six people you want to know better.

Favorite Color: I stay between Ruby Red, Royal Blue & Black Last Song: As I currently write this, I am listening to Dissolved Girl by Massive Attack. Currently Reading: Rivals by Jilly Cooper [ and I am not liking it ] and just began Ronald Hutton's The Witch: A History of Fear, from Ancient Times to the Present. Currently Watching:  Am re-watching The Americans, Why Women Kill and the Alien movies. I have a huge backlog on movies and shows Currently Craving: A Croque Monsieur from a restaurant called Chez Margot.

tagged by: @laperlina Thank you :3 tagging: @flmed ; @teschmacher ; @2pistols ; @stilettu ; @killerdame ; @kingprix ; @2077smerc

[thefixer]

the last time mia saw him was at a restaurant in bürgenstock hotel .   lingering for some time and well after their dinner and dessert was done .   speaking not of work but of life ──        THEIR WISHES AND DREAMS ... sex was easy but intimacy was rather difficult for mia to comprehend .   though if it looked anything like two friends having a chat it would be a whole lot less troublesome .   now to think of marcel in a vulnerable position after just leaving him two days ago .   it was unimaginable how raw this fleeting notion that life was so fragile .   mia didn't have the luxury of safety ,  her job reminded her everyday that death lurked around each corner .   FEAR NOT OF DEATH BUT A LIFE THAT WAS VOID OF EXPERIENCE .   while it was the very thought of a non - merciful death that awaited her .   she still pushed her limits ,   unafraid of the casualties that comes with her job .   for marcel however ?   the same couldn't be said for him ,   though he will never truly speak on his fears .   

in an instant when she hears her name ,   TIME CAME AT A STAND STILL .   the oxygen in the room was sucked out ,   leaving her frozen in time .   anger ,   guilt and shame were the first emotions to   ( with plenty of curse words and insults that she would say to him . )   in her mind she knew it was irrational to be upset at marcel for getting hurt .   the day was not promised to either of them ,   and that's just the way their world worked .   it was however her compassionate heart that beats so reverently for a man on bed in front of her .   while mia doesn't express such feelings ,   MASKING THEM WITH ANGER AND DENIAL .   she will quietly stew in her mix feelings for as long as she can ... this was her heart that reminded her of her own humanity .

it is expected that she knew her next moves before everyone else .   the fixer being proficient in it was dependent on her very survival .   but this ?   THIS FELT NEW ,   yet instinct told her to be kind   ( even if he was a foolish idiot who almost got himself killed . )   her jaw locks down as eyes flicker to the open doorway ,   where she observes the hospital staff moving around .   TWENTY MINUTES WAS ALL SHE WAS ALLOWED AND SHE CAN'T AFFORD PRIVACY .   there was a slow intake of air then it is quickly let out into a sigh ,   " yeah ... "   she speaks softly before leaning forward .   gaze returns to the sharp features of his face ,   now marred with bruise and a scratch or two .   her own expression turns from harsh to worry ,   faint though it was there .   " i'm here . " 

[parieur]

V.02 ⎯⎯ His head turned to follow the voice, finally sure that his brain wasn't playing tricks on him, the presence was Mia. Smell, voice and sight were enough proof that he finally was back to himself [ at least as much as one could be after whatever they had him on ]. He could only guess Kratt had called her and told what happened. Had he asked him to? Regardless, Marcel couldn't imagine a better person to wake up to... Something he had realized some time in the past few months, and more prominently in their last meeting in Switzerland, but that seemed to weight in after the latest brush with death. He knew it was something to be addressed soon... There was no point in pretending he didn't saw her as something more permanent than the NSA dynamics they had kept thus far.

His eyesight wasn't at its best, with the light seeming to distort the edges of her silhouette into something blurred, as if looking at a partially focused photo. Hospitals and their horrendous lighting. Despite that, his sight was still good enough to realize she wasn't wearing any of her usual expressions, not the expected storm of anger and annoyance over what she had once perceived as his carelessness last time he got hurt while working alongside her, nor the flat judgement and irritation over his arrogance whenever his gambling instincts put his life on the line... Marcel found none of that, instead she nearly seemed softened towards him. If the situation weren't absolute shit, he would've felt endeared to have her worrying over him. Wasn't a feeling he saw directed toward him often, at least not in a honest, personal way.

There was a brief drift from Mia to the door behind her, a curiosity with the noise, the men by the door [ all whom he promptly recognized as his own ] and the common walking around of medical staff, only to ignore in favor of her. He allowed himself a discreet smile, the only way he could find to externalize he was glad to see her. ❛❛ Did they call you? ❜❜ And she came. It meant something.

[parieur]

ARGENTINA LOST

[parieur]

ARE YOU LE CHIFFRE'S TYPE? ©

[parieur]

HEADCANON GENERATOR: LE CHIFFRE

001. Le Chiffre is a great artist. [ ✗ ]

002. Le Chiffre's favourite subject in school was Math. [ ✓ ]

003. Le Chiffre listens to 80s music. [ ✓ ]

004. Le Chiffre watched the sonic movie. [ ✗ ]

005. Le Chiffre reads wattpad. [ ✗ ]

006. Le Chiffre is an oldest child. [ ✓ ]

007. Le Chiffre instinctively cleans messes in their own house as well as other peoples. [ ✓ / ✗ ] Only in his own house.

008. Le Chiffre wakes up on November 1st and starts decorating for Christmas. [ ✗ ]

009. Le Chiffre is oblivous to any and all romantic interest someone may show them. [ ✗ ]

010. Le Chiffre has an embarrassing old deviant art account. [ ✗ ]

011. Le Chiffre is a switch. [ ✓ ]

012. Le Chiffre doesn't own a single pair of matching socks. [ ✗ ]

013. If someone they knew commited a crime, Le Chiffre would cover for them. [ ✓ ]

014. It would not take much for Le Chiffre to turn evil. [ ✓ ] He already is...

015. Le Chiffre always has a knife on them. [ ✓ ]

tagged by : @flmed tagging : @thefixer ; @valheys ; @f1sts ; @killerdame ; @laperlina ; @rivhers