Allô rumeurs ?


Des portes volantes auraient été aperçues dernièrement aux abords de l'aile est. Les complotistes s'affolent tandis que certains parlent déjà de migration.
Clique ici pour proposer ta rumeur



 

Pruprutheflower
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Date d'inscription : 22/12/2016
MessageSujet: Pruprutheflower Mar 7 Mar - 21:28

PRUNELLE JELLYKA PRUNELLE JELLYKA
Clouds are marchin' along, Singin' a song, just like they do. If the clouds were singin' a song, I'd sing along, wouldn't you too ? If you just knew, What they could do, Oh, if you just knew, What would they do ? And if the birds Are just hollow words, Flyin' along, singin' a song, What would they do ? If they just knew, What they could do Oh, if they just knew. I know it's sad That I never gave a damn about the weather And it never gave a damn about me
15 ans
japonaise
élémentaire de plante
lycéenne
club de journalisme
élève modèle
“Punelle est une fillete joyeuse, toujours pleine de bonne volonté, prête à aider et à rendre les autres heureux. Elle passe son temps à parler à la nature, à s'occuper de la roseraie ou à faire pousser des fleurs. Douce comme un agneau, elle ne se rend pas toujours compte du danger, et ne se pose pas de question avant de dire ce qu'elle veut dire. on but dans la vie : apprendre aux humains à respecter la nature.”
code par harley- - gif par Tumblr - code par harley- - gif par Tumblr - code par harley-

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“drinking white wine in the blushing light •”

©️ Ely
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MessageSujet: Re: Pruprutheflower Mar 7 Mar - 21:28
PRENOM P2. NOM
intitulé du lien.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his shaved head. “You can’t bring that thing in here.” The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement. “Aw, come on.” The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. “It’s part of my costume.” The bouncer raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?” The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. “I’m a vampire slayer.” He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. “It’s fake. Foam rubber. See?”


PRENOM P2. NOM
intitulé du lien.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his shaved head. “You can’t bring that thing in here.” The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement. “Aw, come on.” The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. “It’s part of my costume.” The bouncer raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?” The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. “I’m a vampire slayer.” He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. “It’s fake. Foam rubber. See?”


PRENOM P2. NOM
intitulé du lien.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his shaved head. “You can’t bring that thing in here.” The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement. “Aw, come on.” The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. “It’s part of my costume.” The bouncer raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?” The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. “I’m a vampire slayer.” He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. “It’s fake. Foam rubber. See?”


PRENOM P2. NOM
intitulé du lien.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his shaved head. “You can’t bring that thing in here.” The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement. “Aw, come on.” The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. “It’s part of my costume.” The bouncer raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?” The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. “I’m a vampire slayer.” He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. “It’s fake. Foam rubber. See?”

_________________


“drinking white wine in the blushing light •”

©️ Ely
Revenir en haut Aller en bas
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