#and i will be eternally grateful to be able to behold its beauty

[crowlixcx]

this is a PSA to every artist in the good omens fandom:

I owe you my life *kisses ur forehead*

[hellbornhades]

(SUMMER)

As summer began to make its way, the couple had a lot to prepare for, especially in terms of finances. They were able to remodel the inside of their home and finally make a plan for their wedding, but that involved using a bit of their savings, so they're funds are pretty low.

With their new financial situation, Jaylah thought it was time to publish her books. She wasn't expecting fame to come out of it though… but boy does she make it look good.

And of course after a few days of being in the limelight, Jaylah had to admit, being famous wasn't as fun as she had hoped… yes she's finally being noticed by her job as a writer.. but now she's got to put more effort into everything she writes.

Just a few more days, and I'll be off of work for my wedding and honeymoon, Jaylah thought to herself.

During the next day, Travis was finishing some Wedding preparations while Jaylah slept, he just so happened to spot one of Jaylah's stans, waiting for her outside.

He grumbles to himself: "Got damned Sim stans… figuring out where we live… I told Jay not to give out too many autographs."

Travis decided he would handle this himself and let Jaylah rest, she's been working nonstop to produce a new bestseller on top of planning a wedding and just didn't want to add this to her plate.

Travis: "Look, I don't know who you are or how you found our home, but you need to go. Jaylah is just like any other Sim, she works and eats and has hobbies outside of this fame she's started to gain, just like the rest of us. Now, can you respectfully climb back down the hole you came from before I call the cops!"

Random Stan: "Oh, I uh… look at the time? I must be on my way!"

Despite Jaylah's newly developed fame and how hectic things had started to become for the two, the couple still had their eyes looking forward to making the best of their wedding day.

.

(The Next Day)

.

It was officially Jaylah and Travis' big day. After careful planning and much preparation, the wedded-couple-to-be reserved their wedding at a secluded and quiet spot in Sulani.

Excited was an understatement, these two have been dying to tie the knot ever since they made their relationship official.

Now standing face to face, Jaylah could swear her heart was beating so loudly that maybe even Travis could hear. Jaylah took Travis' hand and smiled, taking a slow, deep breath and began to recite her vows.

Jaylah: "Low and behold, it's finally the day of our union. The day our lives become one forever. It's one thing to talk about a life together and another thing to truly jump in and get our feet wet; to go forth and set our new lives in motion. Today, this very day, will be the start to our forever life."

Travis could no longer hide his giddy, nervous excitement, occasionally erupting into giggling fits like that of a teenage girl.

Jaylah smiled, continuing on: "Words are beautiful, but actions are what holds so much more meaning. Memories may fade and be forgotten, but together we can always create new ones. The past will always be important, but the future holds so many unforeseen possibilities. With all meaning and sincerity, I will love you forever and ever, Travis. Even when our vessels are returned to the Earth."

Travis took Jaylah's hand and started his vows, gently pushing the ring up her finger: "Gosh, I wish my vows were even close to being as beautiful as yours, but you, my dear, have always been poetic with your words. However, my eyes have never seen so clearly as it has since I've met you. The path I walked once complicated and rocky, has now grown smooth and clear of obstacles with you by my side. Often times, I wonder if I am floating. When I close my eyes, I dream of you and only you, just to awaken to see your beautiful face still fast asleep. My ears have never heard anything as sweet as the day I heard your voice say 'I love you.' My soul has found it's other half and I'm so eternally grateful that it's you, Jaylah."

.

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[Wedding Day – Part 1]

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❣ previous post || begining post || next post ❣

[imasimpforshanks]

Hi there!

I hope you're doing great. Ehm... May I requests Law for either the romantic or the Angst alphabet? I just can't decide that and would like you to choose from it.

I'm really looking forward to your work. Other than that have a nice day/eve. ♡

Fluff Alphabet - Trafalgar Law

a/n: hi there!!! thank you for requesting and for your kind words 💓 I chose the fluff alphabet because our man has suffered enough and I couldn’t handle writing out angst for him 🙃 ANWAYSSSS pls enjoy x

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

During the little free time he has, Law loves to spend it with you doing anything lowkey. He’s usually pretty exhausted from everything going on, so taking some time to wind down and read a good book with you tucked him next to him reading you’re a book of your own is his ideal way to spend time with you.

That being said, if you are a person who prefers to do something active, Law won’t say no to that (so long as it’s not Luffy level active).

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Law admires your way of thinking. You always seem to bring a fresh, unique perspective and now he can’t help but ask for your input on everything. This is also what he finds the most beautiful about you. He’s never been one to care that much about what is on the outside. To Law, it’s what is on the inside that counts (who knew law was so cliché;)). Your mind and the way it works is a wonder to behold and Law counts himself very lucky that he is the one that gets to see you in action the most.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

Law takes a very pragmatic approach when it comes to comforting his s/o. He’s a doctor, so its only natural for him to think in this way. He asks you directly what’s wrong and how he could help – it’s the most logical thing to do and the quickest way to ensure you are feeling comforted.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

In the future Law wants to live a simple, quiet life with you. Somewhere secluded and far away from all the noise and chaos of the world. You’ll live in a nice house (nothing too fancy), with a child or two running around acting out their parents’ infamous pirate adventures.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. For the sake of your safety and his sanity, he prefers to be the one to take charge with you following his lead. But, he does still value your input in almost all decisions.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

Your fights tend to be pretty short lived resulting in forgiveness and apologies from both sides relatively quickly. He really doesn’t like to stay mad at you for too long – he’d much rather have you two on the same page.

Most fights are caused by stress and concerns of health and safety, so Law does a lot of eye rolling and using his title as a ‘doctor’ as justification that he knows what he’s doing so you just need to chill – but like I said these fights are very short lived.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Before he met you, Law’s life was very dull. Yes, he has his fair share of adventures and fun with his crew, but there was something missing from his life. But then you came along, bringing a little more colour into his life. Instead of being exhausted and tense from dealing with everything alone, you forced your way in and pried him open, allowing him to share his burdens. For that, Law is eternally grateful.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Initially, Law tried to hide quite a lot. He was very selective about the information he shared with you. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just struggled to share things with others – his past has made him very closed off. But, before he knew it you managed to weasel your way in, and soon he found himself confiding in you about everything. The only time he ever keeps a secret is if knowing it will jeopardize your safety.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

I touched on this a little bit before, but you were able to teach Law the relief and comfort that comes with trusting and relying on others. Because of you, he was able to learn that its important to not deal with everything on your own.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?).

It’s not often that Law gets jealous. It’s an ugly emotion, plus he feels no need to be jealous since he trust you with his whole heart. However, if he was to get jealous, he is definitely the quiet jealous type. His fists clench a little tighter, his frown deepens ever so slightly, and he just doesn’t speak. He doesn’t ignore you though, rather he chooses to curt replies until he eventually gets over it or if it’s really bothering him he may bring it up with you.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

He is a very inexperienced kisser, not having (or wanting) many romantic relationships in his past. Even so, he’s surprisingly not horrible (but not great either) at kissing. Maybe it has something to do with his deep knowledge and understanding of the way the human body works. Unfortunately, during your first kiss he tried to rely a little too much on his ‘knowledge’ rather than melting in to it. It wasn’t a horrible first kiss, it just felt a little stiff. The desire was there, but it was as if he were afraid to give in to the emotions he was feeling and reading your signals. However, after a little communication and guidance he’s now an expert.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

It was in the heat of the moment after you had done something completely and utterly stupid, that almost cost you your life. He wasn’t intending on doing it right then and there, in fact he actually had a whole plan of how and when he was going to tell you how he felt. But seeing you lying in the infirmary after having to operate on you was more than he could handle and before he knew it the words just slipped out.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Marriage is indeed something Law wants. You wouldn’t expect it but after you two officially got together, it wasn’t more than a month before Law started thinking about marriage. He knows now isn’t the time for marriage, but it’s definitely in his plans for the next few years or so.

His proposal is going to be low key. The two of you would have to be alone with no other people around – maybe while you two are lying in bed one night, he just pops the question. And as with the proposal, your wedding would also be low key. No big party or ceremony, just you two and the people closest to you (bepo definitely officiates).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

‘Babe’ or your name are his usual choices for when you are around other people. But occasionally when he’s on the verge of falling asleep he’ll let out a yawn followed by a sleepy “babyyyy”.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

When Law is in love he tends to keep his cool and collected façade. But on the inside he’s a babbling, nervous mess. He doesn’t do anything particularly out of the ordinary other than making a bit more of an attempt at conversing with you. He loves hearing you talk and rambling on about things you’re passionate about so he does try to find any excuse to talk to you.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

PDA is something Law isn’t the biggest fan of. He’ll stand next to you and be in close proximity while sharing a few glances, but other than that he won’t engage in PDA. Law considers that sort of thing to be private and intimate so he likes to keep it between the two of you. Occasionally, if you are feeling a little extra needy he may give in to a quick hug or forehead kiss.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

It may not come as that much of a surprise but, Law can make one hell of a cup of coffee (actually any hot drink really). His perfect brew definitely comes in handy.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Oh boy, he is way more romantic than anyone would ever realize. He loves doing little things for you just to see that sweet smile on your face. It makes his heart swell with happiness.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

Rather than being the consistently positive support, Law provides you with constructive criticism and things that can actively help you achieve your goals. He’s a realist, so doesn’t think only saying “you can do it” or “it’s only a minor setback” is the way to go. He still says those things because they are true – Law honestly believes you can do whatever you set your mind to, however, constructive criticism is needed in addition to this.

The key take away here is: YES. Law believes you can achieve all your hopes and dreams.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Law needs routine, especially in your relationship. You have continued doing the same things in your relationship since you first got together because it works. Why would he want to change what works? It’s safe, it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable.

That being said, he’s not opposed to the idea of spicing things up. If you ever felt like trying something new (or even if he starts to feel bored about something), he would be open to the idea. Who knows, maybe the new thing you try could even become a part of your routine.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

It’s no surprise that he is very adept at reading people, he’s on to it and has exceptional observation skills. He uses these skills with you as well.

He knows what it’s like to be consumed by emotions (in fact he knows that too well), and while with most, he’s the type to keep his emotions hidden, when it comes to you he shares his emotions to help you realize that he also knows how it feels and that you are not alone.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

Your relationship is a top priority in his life. He’s lost everyone he ever cares about (other than his crew) and there is no way he is going to lose you too. The only thing that may potentially rival your relationship is his goal of taking revenge on Doflamingo.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

There’s nothing he loves more than you running your hands through his hair while his head is on your chest or stomach. He automatically leans into your hand every time. He feels the safest in this position.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

Like I said before, he is affectionate but it’s mainly when the two of you are alone. Those displays of affection are for the two of you and no one else. But, when the two of you are alone he absolutely loves cuddles (especially lying with his head on your lap or chest).

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He gets stressed when you’re not around for more than one reason. Firstly, you can’t help to calm him down and force him to take a breather. Secondly, he’s constantly worried about your safety and wellbeing.

Honestly, the only way he copes with it is by stressing (I know it’s not coping at all but I mean that’s Law for you LMAO).

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

Law would put his life on the line for your relationship. He doesn’t want to lose someone he cares about – not again. He can’t handle that sort of pain, so if it was required of him, he would gladly give his life.

[jonnyparable]

Cottage Hills : The Vanishing of Basil Reed, End of Book 7

Dawn of a New Spring

It's just a few minutes to sunrise. On top of venerable Mother's Hill, the villagers gather, having made the trek up its slopes in the dark of pre dawn. After a night of revelry, comes the solemnity of greeting a new dawn. This tradition dates back to the town's founding, when after the Eternal Winter was ended, the founders came to the top of this hill to see the sun rise for the first time.

These days, it's just a fun, but meaningful tradition the villagers have. They believe greeting the first sunrise of the year with respect is a great way to properly start the year on the right footing. Saibara, the second oldest person in town, leads the villagers. It will be his duty to announce the new spring. As is tradition, the villagers wait in the cold, in respectful silence.

As they take the quiet moment to reflect on those in their lives and the past year, Saibara calls out to them.

Saibara :

"Here it is everyone! Behold, a new dawn, the first sunrise of spring, and the coming of a new year! Praise the Goddess, for the ending of another winter!"

The sun of a new year and a new spring rises majestically out from behind the mountains in the distance, and bathes the town in a golden glow. Everyone echoes out after Saibara.

"Praise the Goddess!"

Watching the sunrise together certainly makes the trek up the hill worth it. Its a sight to behold, and the villagers cannot imagine starting a new year without it. As they watch in awe, they are filled with warmth, and gratitude. Surrounded by the people most important to them, and closest to their heart, they are ready to welcome a new year. Mary watches the dawn with her father and Gray by her side for the first time in twenty years. As she looks at her father, she smiles, knowing she can finally close this chapter in her life, and look forward to a brighter future, together.

Mary:

"Is beautiful, isn't it? It's one of my favourite things about Cottage Hills."

Basil :

"It truly is. I'm grateful to be able to share it with you. It's a new day, Mary."

Mary:

"Yes, father. It certainly is!"

In the Misty Woods...

Even as the sun begins to warm up the world and thaw the winter's frost, down below in the misty woods, deep inside the forests, it is still dark and cold. The rising sun's light hasn't yet reached the deep recesses of the woods.

Kano lies, resting in a bed. He had last stumbled into the woods and gotten lost, before being found by someone. Just what had happened to him? Kano stirs. His eyes open and he gets up. His body aches, and there's a sharp pain in his back. He's hurt. Kano wonders where he is. Suddenly, Kano realises he's not alone.

Voice :

"You're awake."

Meanwhile...

Far away, out at sea, Kai watches the same sun rise on his part of the world, from the deck of a steamship. He watches with an uneasy look on his face. The only sounds are of the wind in his ears and the ocean crashing against the sides of the ship below, as it careens through the waves.

In the fall, he had received a strange letter, claiming to be from his father, saying that he wanted to meet him in Saqhaba. Kai wonders now if it is wise of him to make this journey. As he looks out at the sea, he starts to question if the letter was real. And if so, why would his father suddenly reach out to him now, and what he's like. A million questions flood his mind. Then, he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Popuri:

"Hey, there you are honey. Good morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

Kai:

"Oh, sorry dear, good morning. Were you looking for me?"

Popuri:

"Its alright. The captain said we should be reaching in a couple of days. Maybe a week or so....having second thoughts?"

Kai:

"Do you think he's really there? What if its some kind of trick? It's dangerous, Popuri. You shouldn't have come with me."

Popuri:

"Kai. When I married you, it, wasn't to abandon you. I can tell you need me here. I said I'd go anywhere with you remember?"

Kai:

"I do. I'm so nervous... I have never met my father. I had always thought he died. I wonder what awaits us in Saqhaba. What do you think he wants to tell me?"

Popuri:

"Well, whatever it is, we'll face it. Together."

[biscuitinferno]

Forget Me Not

Summary: Emet-Selch reflects upon a patch of flowers and the memories associated with them.

Pairing: Emet-Selch/Reader (Unnamed Amaurotian)

Warnings: none, unless you hate the slightest bit of affection

Word Count: 1733

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A few Shadowbringers MSQ spoilers ahead! I suggest finishing the main quest line of 5.0 if you don’t want to spoil anything. 

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Emet-Selch scowled at the patch of flowers at his feet. The small blue flowers seemed to taunt him. The very sight a torture to behold. He knew exactly who had created these flowers before the great sundering. 

You. 

You had created them. Emet-Selch had always been first to witness the birth of your creations, no matter what they ended up being. He closes his eyes, looking back to that time so long ago when he had first witnessed this creation. 

You had bade him join you in one of the many parks Amaurot had, a sweet smile lighting up your features on the walk there. It was infectious, your smile, and however he tried to keep his face neutral there was no stopping the gentle smile that spread across his lips. You were excited, he could tell though you did not voice it. For you stayed quiet in the hope to keeping your surprise alive. Upon entering the park you bid him close his eyes in a voice with barely contained excitement. Emet-Selch obeyed without a thought. There was no reason not to, for he trusted you completely. And if for the off chance that this was a ruse to get him to step into one of your clever tricks you loved to play with him, he would go along with it. For he enjoyed those troublesome creations as well.

You led him through the park, a warm hand slipping into his to help guide him the way. You hand had been so… perfect to hold. So right. It filled his entire soul with a tingle of warmth. When you stopped him at a particular point, your hand left his. The absence made him desperately crave to have it returned. Your hands on his shoulders turned him around and your voice was in his ear. “Open your eyes.”

Emet-Selch did as he was told, eyes opening to a patch of small blue flowers blanketing the ground in the shade of a large tree. So delicate, they were. So you.

“You made these?” Emet-Selch asked full of wonder. He knelt to get a closer look, fingers trailing over the soft petals. Upon his closer look he found not only blue blossoms, but both pink and white ones speckled throughout.

You clasped your hands together and nodded. “Yes, I was looking over similar creations and was inspired.”

“They are beautiful,” he murmurs, standing again. You are beautiful, he had continued in his mind, his gaze seeming to get stuck on you. “Have you named them yet?” 

You paused and thought for a moment. “Forget Me Nots,” you told him quietly. “Is it weird? I thought of Myosotis too because the petals look like little mouse ears...”

“No, not at all. I am just curious of your reasoning on the name,” Emet-Selch reassured you quickly. 

You look away from him. “I,” you began, suddenly shy. “I was thinking of you, Hades. Of me. For my desire for neither of us to forget about each other. You are Emet-Selch now, a leader of our people. You have so many things that you could be doing, but still you make time to spend with me. For that, I am eternally grateful.” 

“It will not be long until you join me there,” he assures you. “I have witnessed many of your creations first hand and can testify to the strength and control you have. Your trials will prove you little trouble.”

“Even so,” you bite your lip, uncertainty still holding fast. “No matter what happens, my hope was that if we have less time to spend together in the future, that we can look down at these flowers and remember while apart.”

Emet-Selch felt his whole body alight with delight. If it weren’t for the mask he wore, he was sure that you would be able to see the bright glow on his cheeks. For him. These flowers. He finds himself smiling. He stepped up to your side and gently placed a hand on your cheek. You returned the gesture, both basking in the comfort of each other's souls.  

Footsteps approach him and Emet-Selch tears his eyes away from the planter and the far away memory. You-- no. The mortal husk of the warrior of light harboring your half complete soul, approaches him. There was a scowl set on the warrior's lips, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

It was truly unsettling to Emet-Selch just how much this incarnation that bore the shards of your soul resembled you. He had made a habit of finding each piece of your soul throughout the years just to see what appearance you had taken on, and this one by far resembled you the closest. There of course had been little things that had matched your appearance in your other vessels; same eye color, or the same shape of the lips, or the same tilt of your head when you would look at something. But never had they come together in such a way before. Emet-Selch wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Perhaps it was just another thing to mock him. Another reminder. Another stab into his chest. 

"Must you wait outside my apartment too?" The warrior crosses their arms, shifting their weight onto one foot, a motion you had employed whenever you were mildly annoyed at something. "Some might call you a stalker."

Emet-Selch snorts loudly, rolling his eyes. "My dear hero, as far as I am aware it is not a crime to take a walk. Stopping to observe the scenery outside your residence was merely a happy coincidence," he slips into the easy charm he had cultivated with this persona. The warrior frowns even more, opening their mouth to say something but Emet-Selch stops them. 

"Tell me, hero," he begins, turning his gaze back to the flowers. A strange sense of curiosity had filled him and Emet-Selch needed an answer. "Do you know what kind of flowers these are?"

The warrior of light seems visibly put off guard, their face twisting up in confusion. But they take a look down at the planter regardless. "Forget Me Nots?" They answer after a few moments.

“So you do. Wonderful,” Emet-Selch smiles. “Now answer me this: how do you feel when you look at these flowers?”

The warrior scrutinizes Emet-Selch, more confusion flashing through their eyes. More suspicion. “Is this a joke?”

“Far from it, hero. It is a simple question that I had hoped you would deign to answer. If I so readily indulge with your ceaseless inquiries then it is only fair you return the favor.”

This made the warrior pause. They are thinking, eyes darting between the flower planter and Emet-Selch. “I’m not sure…” they finally say after an extended look at the flowers. “Honestly, these flowers, I have always been drawn to them. I guess they have always been a favorite of mine. I am unsure what the reasoning is but when I look at them I feel… surprisingly... wistful? I don't know."

Emet-Selch closes his eyes and hums. The irony of the situation was not lost on the Ascian. To have your soul right here in front of him, to be looking at these flowers, and to not remember anything... It makes him want to roll his eyes. Forget Me Nots. What was the point of making them if you would one day forget everything? But to be fair, Emet-Selch was hard pressed to believe that you had known any of this would happen, especially when the initial creation of the plant was long before the first calamity.

There is a quiet moment between the two of them. Emet-Selch reflecting and the warrior being even more confused at how this conversation was playing out. “Have I answered your question sufficiently?” The warrior asks. 

“Oh, yes hero. You have given an adequate answer,” Emet-Selch retrains his golden eyes to the flowers. He can’t help the soft smile that tugs at the corner of his lips or the softening of his eyes. "Long before the sundering, I knew the soul who created these flowers. I had been curious to know your thoughts on them since you share a surprising amount of similarities to them," he explains seeing the warriors troubled look. He bends down and plucks a small cluster off the plant. His thumb brushes against the petals and wishing it was your hand he held instead. A mischievous thought darts through his mind and he can’t help but heed its call. 

Emet-Selch steps up close to the warrior, his eyes never leaving theirs. They stiffen but stay rooted to the ground all the same. Without another thought he tucks the blossom into their hair just behind their ear. He admires it there for a moment, recalling how you had done this to him in the park that day you first created them. “There,” he repeats the words that you had said to him as well. “It suits you."

The warrior was dumbstruck for about five moments before their wits returned and they stumbled away, knocking the Ascian's hand off their cheek. A mix of horror and disbelief crossed their face along with a bright flush of their skin. "What are you-- I-- you--"

The lack of words that the warrior has makes Emet-Selch smile. What an interesting reaction, he muses to himself. Still sputtering, the bright faced warrior turns and dashes off in the direction of the Crystal Tower, not bothering to pull the flowers out of their hair. Would they remember before they came before the Exarch to pull it out? Or would they forget and have to face inquiries as to why it was there? Either scenario made the smile on the Ascian's lips widen.

It sparks a bit of hope within him. If the warrior can feel the calls of your soul, whether they realize it or not, then there must be a way to reawaken you. You must be in there somewhere, watching and waiting for the opportunity to emerge. Emet-Selch only needed a few more pieces of your soul to be rejoined, or a strong enough image-- something that would catch your attention and unlock those deep buried memories. And when they did come flooding back, you would return to him. You would be in his arms once again.

Like it was always meant to be.

For he has never forgotten about you.

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Forget Me Nots; Myosotis. 

Meanings--- 

True love, eternal love, fidelity, honesty, long-lasting connection, remembrance

Color Meanings ---

White: Purity, innocence

Blue: Trust, respect

Pink: Romance, love, gentleness 

--------------------------------

[lokispettigerr]

In The Flesh- Loki POV x Original Female Character (Part 1)

If you like this please please tap that reblog :) . It is huge encouragement.

*Not 100% set on POV in later parts

Part 2

Fic Summary: (Part 1- Loki’s POV) Loki tells of one of the visions the Tesseract cursed him with. In his vision he sees a woman confined and decides he will do anything in his power to help her.

Timeline: The Avengers movie

Word Count: 1,616

Warnings: Mention of Child abuse and some Violence

A/N: This fic is set during "The Avengers"

****If you would like to be on the general taglist OR the taglist for this fic please leave me an ask. I will make it happen and would be happy to do it!

I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.

When I was a child, things weren’t easy– ever. In fact, they were very, very hard. There were always forces in opposition, pushing and pulling with hatred and obsessions. I was caught in the middle of it all, like the offspring of a spider made prey by its own parentage. However, the spider wasn’t my true parent. To Odin, our spider on the web, I was something vile, corrupt, without order; something chaotic that needed to be put in its place.

And so, as a child, young and blind to the incongruicies and discriminations of life, I accepted Odin’s treatment of me. Somehow, as a child used to a life of malice and ill will, you just believe there is nothing better out there—for it is what you have always known.

Can you perhaps, relate?

I truly believed, with burning conviction there was nothing better out there, in the nine realms. I suppose I wanted to so desperately feel that no matter the treatment I received, that it was fatherly, unconditional love in its purest form. That is, until I started to get a glimpse of the world and the blind was removed from my eyes like fetters falling from the wrongfully imprisoned. And much like the wrongfully imprisoned, the one that has been left to rot in a cell, away from all mankind, away from light, touch, sound, out of sight—when I was unintentionally and haphazardly released from the bonds that held me, I began to dream. And when I began to dream I began to court danger. That’s how it all starts isn’t it? Danger often times comes with dreams, perhaps they are cousins, or lovers, or both. Imaginably both, that must be why they give birth to fear. Fear being an all-consuming debilitating emotion, something I am all too familiar with. Something all too familiar with me. Try as I might, I like to think fear has no hold over me any more after all those years long ago when I was a child living in the shadow of the spider. However, this is comically wrong, for I encountered fear again when the Tesseract gave me a dream. But more on that later.

Now then, if I am not the offspring of the spider what am I? I am the child of hunger. The child of desire for something to fill a yawning emptiness so vast the void could consume the stars. I am the child of those people who starved, and in their starvation they became what appear to be monsters. They are called “Jotuns”, and are of Jotunheim. The Jotuns are the natural enemy of Asgard, at least as long as Odin ruled. For an enemy without, strengthens a ruler within. Thus if Jotuns are the enemy then I too am the enemy. In truth, my people are a harsh cold lot, brutal to the core. It is only ever bound to happen when the land they live yields nothing but perpetuating emptiness and desolation, something that only can birth bitterness. Think about that one a while—something that can only birth bitterness.

But now, perhaps, I am dancing around the question, “what am I?”. You see, one of my downfalls is that I like to withhold knowledge, something I may be able to use again at a later date when it better suits me. For now, I am fluid like water, but with much more bite, so let’s say like fire. Simply put, I am a monster. The monster that parents warn their children of at night. Of course because I have only ever yielded destruction, or so I have only ever been told. I am rage and chaos in the flesh—that is something you can trust—my rage.

In truth, I am whatever you want me to be, or even whatever you have need of me to be. Whoever you think I am, I will be—for you of course, and perhaps for a price.

My story however, will vary about as much as I do, it all depends on who you ask. In order for you to see me, there is something I need to show you. You can judge me how you wish from there; I have room for that.

I began rather benign I think. Not that anyone has ever asked my story, but through all the abuse I endured I think I started to lose myself.

There was a time, when I did commit unspeakable acts, but before I ever started on the precipice of that catastrophic journey, unspeakable acts were performed on me. It is not time however, for me to share these unspeakable acts with you—to unburden myself. I do however, have a name to give you, and perhaps you have heard of him. If so, then you know enough… Thanos. I endured torture at Thanos’ hands. For what? All to acquire a stone, but it wasn’t your average stone. The Tesseract was a glorious gateway between the realms. Unfortunately, her power could be used for the triumph of evil, and so it was. While she possessed unspeakable power she also came with her own burdens. She could enlighten, so to speak, the mind of the beholder. Have you ever heard the saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well to her, to the Tesseract, the beholder is in the eye of beauty, really. She shows you what she wishes and you become her thrall—even gods are not immune to her. Her visions are a way for her to protect her secrets. To protect herself.

This is where I come in. I was made to go after the Tesseract and she showed me many things, dreams and worlds beyond measure, beyond even the understanding of a god.

Such an odd thing really, behold the stone and you see everything it wants you to see, vividly, breathing, beating, radiating, pulsating—and me, there in the middle of it. Another spider and another web. Well, her visions happen in an instant, much like falling down an intergalactic wormhole at the speed of light, or even the Bifrost.

The Tesseract, doing what she does, in a way to protect herself, showed me a vision she knew would break me, driving me into madness—of course, the only way to end the madness was to do as she bid.

In just a heart shattering moment, something that I wanted to last an eternity, or one of my life times, I saw a woman. A woman who very much was a girl. Interestingly, initially she could have been taken for a wounded bird—something broken and battered, bleeding her wounds too many to count. Perhaps trampled by too many Bilge-snipe.

I saw her chained in a harshly lit, glass cage. She was cowering naked in a corner, holding her legs to her breasts. Possibly in hopes to hold onto something to gain comfort and stability. Her head was down, wild hair cascading like liquid daggers all around her. I could hear her quiet, musical sobs. I pitied this poor creature, because something inside of her sent an echo of a memory penetrating through me. This little wounded bird was trapped in a spider’s web too– like I had been most of my childhood. My soul reached out to her wanting to free her from her confinement, and I took a steady stride towards her. She sensed my presence. Her mind caressed mine at that moment, and her head snapped up savagely. I froze in my tracks. She did not want me to come near her. I could feel her fear radiating from her, sending shell surging shocks throughout the air. I knew something then. I had been very much mistaken.

This creature was no wounded bird. She was a threat. She was a white tiger posing as a mortal, playing some deadly game. Her green eyes glowing with infinite hatred and something more. Hunger. There was only one place I had seen hunger that savage, it was the hunger my people possessed. This threatening girl, with her blood red lips and icy skin sensed me, even though I was not physically there with her. She continued to study my energy—I wondered what she sensed about me. While I wanted to move closer to her, I was unable to. I was trapped in snares she set for me. Our chains could have made for a matching set. I did what I could, and took as much of her in as possible. One thing was for certain, this tiger in mortal flesh was the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.  Imaginably, one of the most dangerous too—someone that could come of some use to me later on. Yes, the Tesseract was good. It’s plan for me set. I am certain, if even I wanted to look away from her I would not have been able to. This tiger girl had snared me in more ways than one, and so had the Tesseract.

Without consent the vision was ripped from me, leaving me breathless, disoriented, and enraged, but not before I got a mental image of my surroundings—most notably, a steel plaque on the wall, back-lit with harsh fluorescent, casting a deformed shadow on the floor “S.H.I.E.L.D.” it said. And there, just outside of the girl’s prison, a dark-skinned man cloaked in shadow wearing a grim expression and an eye-patch. He studied her with the same intensity I had.

I had everything I needed. Somehow I would find her, no matter the cost.

I will upload the teaser for part 2 most likely within the next week.

Again, please reblog if you enjoyed. I would be forever grateful friends! I love feedback friends!

***I take requests, leave me an ask.

I have Venmo and Ko-fi

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this! Peace friends!

General Taglist: @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77

[libidomechanica]

“we dont say”

D under the deep snow piled above thee, and when  something is done, we dont say: the Little Mermaid  was able to end. That for  tears are on thy soules we never but with  tears whom the stars shine above: theres a lake in  mine far under-ground were bereavid, to his  dungeon strayd; themselves are already in  our bed to read; and said, Ruined. 

His owne children (teares) finding not those loue as  lyfe I was tired. Breath, whose pleasure. Of desire 

Zulaikha built and consecrate. Out, traytor Absence; while 

with a face of Lucy Gray will I  gladly be bridegroom said never quaft in her maternal  chains were not her cast their ample featherd in worlds 

they themselves have spoken, loved accents are not perswaded  the good could escape from coste to blow!  Nor can we be what to my horse, a hard  mishap hath doomd this happy, if to love you I  love you         the thread Walter said, “I wish she has  just 

stand the day, and foul contagion spread upon the 

eye of lowly camomile and this tract again 

as she have a triple soul” had felt how content:  a grieuous case, thy beauties shine above: the  Seed of Quiet there the dove was with  joy gone mad, with bees and cant shake the  wind that grove appeared as chearful, cautious, tremble,  and lowly groue, I play to please: ah, what does  not the thing that taught us live in  schoolmaster of the gate, Passion pulsd its way— kissing  Love! that ring the pensive war. Soon as ASTREAS  praise is crowing, ever a sunrise, her arms, while  he sate, and shrouds beneath the mignonette of Vivian- place. And disappeared that for  rest, and, unaware, behold that I cannot choose 

their swift as there my lips I vow me to thy songs Eternal  fire, dully drop momentum. grate  on the rag of herself, yet to time, since 

I am over them adornd the Wine of 

precious pledge of pearls, or steep-up spout whereon the  earth in one flea spare, where he brought, though the forehead 

and here I had energy; you have more rich silks, and 

he bore of names upon his steed him as someth ing in safe alarm he flappd toward Namancos and Bayonas 

hold: look homeward Angel brine not thank all who hath not able  is to sever me from his immortal youth,  for both my limbs. I neer will I sing of all my  name: sleek Panope with so weake? “The Sweetness, stay!”

[joyfullynervouscreator]

Ghost Love Score

For the @silmarillionwritersguild’s Challenge ‘Just an old-fashioned love song’ as part of the New Year’s Resolution Challenge.

Fëanor in the Halls of Mandos: 2.8k words

based on Ghost Love Score  -  Nightwish:

Bring me home or leave me be

My love in the dark heart of the night

I have lost the path before me

The one behind will lead me.

My fall will be for you

My love will be in you

You were the one to cut me

So I'll bleed forever

There was no pity in Námo’s white eyes, shining beneath the dark hood of his cloak, when they landed on him.

Fëanor felt oddly pleased by that, meeting the even gaze with an unflinching glare of his own. He had not expected to end up here, to stand before the Doomsman. He did not speak, still filled with the incandescent fury that had consumed his hröa, burning so brightly the world faded from view.

Námo watched in silence. Fëanor resented that. If he was not doomed to the Everlasting Darkness – and standing before Námo told him that he was in Mandos, not the Void beyond the World – then there would be a judgement handed down from this being, who allegedly saw all, knew everything. He resented that as much as he resented the silent scrutiny.

Who were the Valar to judge him, these mighty beings who possessed so much power yet cowered away from hardship when it came to judging one of their own?

How could they judge his deeds when their own actions had forced his hand?

Fëanáro. He had burned, burned so brightly, burned brightly enough to light a fire that changed the world. He heard the voices of those who arrived after him, heard them both curse and praise his name. He wondered which would be the greater, in the end, but it was idly curiosity as he had no way of finding out.

Námo smiled, and Fëanor no longer saw him, saw nothing but a flurry of stars – or were they snowflakes? Seeds dancing on the wind? – stretching endlessly around him.

The stars, whatever they were, danced, moving, some swiftly, some slow, but they moved around him and Fëanor knew they would eventually touch his fëa. His lips twisted in a contemptuous snarl, wondering what trickery this was, what new game the Vala was playing with him as a board-piece.

Because waiting for whatever gambit Námo had just delivered him into to play out was not in his nature, Fëanor – he liked the Sindarin version, short and hard; his Quenya name was somehow softer, floating on one of Nerdanel’s sighs, perhaps – reached out to touch one of the whirling pinpricks of light.

 Alqualondë. Recognisable; he had helped build some of the grand houses here, after all, left far too many blank walls behind – Teleri liked painting with wet plaster, for unknown reasons, even though mosaics were clearly the more beautiful option for wall decoration.

Red hair escaping from its binds – so familiar that it took him longer than he’d like to admit, even to himself, to notice the hands that were building stone upon stone.

Faces appeared next, almost known, pale hair – Arafinwë? – curling around bared shoulders, sleeveless tunic revealing the play of light on skin, muscles tensing and releasing as another stone was moved.

 The stars returned, whirling and spinning around him, swift like rapids and slow like the movement of earth.

Fëanor reached out.

 Námo’s game let him see things, glimpses of past, present, future, and seeing the mess he had left behind was the worst punishment for his rebellion he could imagine. He resented it, watching powerlessly, seeing things unfolding without possibility of changing anything. Was this how Manwë watched the world; another way to drive home how separate the Valar truly were from the Children? Knowing that others were denied the knowledge he found imposed upon his solitary existence grated against nerves more raw than he had ever felt before, but at the same time he craved it, craved both the harsh pain of knowledge without action, but also the sweet agony of seeing each of their faces, seeing the ner they became.

He felt proud of them, despite it all, for different reasons.

He watched as Curvo stopped little Tyelpë – who was no longer little, growing up seemingly from one moment to the next – from taking his Oath, and for a moment he wondered if Atarinkë had been a prophecy rather than the remark on their resemblance he had always thought she had meant.

For a moment, he wanted to ask, wanted red hair wrapping in curls around his fingers and laughter floating in the breeze. Had she known, somehow?

The thought cut through him, the pain of it sharp enough to steal his breath, the sudden certainty that she had always known Curvo was destined to be a better father to Tyelpë than he had managed for any of theirs. As air rushed back into lungs he didn’t really have – existing as a fëa was too peculiar, and he had crafted himself a pretend-shell that resembled his former house rather than live as fire, taking comfort in familiar expressions instead of roaring like an inferno or flickering like a candle when his thoughts changed – he felt an accompanying rush of pride, watching his only grandchild speak with an echo of the fire that had brought a whole people across the sea to fight an unwinnable war.

They believed in him; in Tyelpë they saw a ner worth believing, worth following, and it was glorious to behold.

He watched trials and triumphs, watched as the Oath slowly corrupted his sons, watched as the words haunted them. No cravens nor cowards, his sons, to shy away from their Doom, even as it tore them apart, tore away one after the other.

‘To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass.’

Nelyo should never forgive him. Nor any of the others, the scars he had left on them would never fade.

 He could not even dream that she would forgive him, knowing what he had done to her sons, to her. There would be no healing this wound, this rend in her that would be left bleeding until Dagor Dagorath and the Re-making.

Sometimes, she appeared so clearly in his mind, almost clearer than she had when it was real, when it was happening, when he had been able to act.

Tears spilling across her cheeks, helplessness he had not noticed at the time giving her a defeated posture, making her slump in a way that was simply wrong. She should be proud, standing straight and strong, life and love and fire equal to his own in her heart.

But he had smothered her fire. Eclipsed it, and thus covered his own world in darkness, losing the assured path he had once followed and stumbling off into what he now saw as a mire of grief and maddened fury.

Sometimes, he wondered in dark amusement whether that was the Eternal Darkness he had called upon himself, the absence of any fire but his own.

He rarely saw her, the glimpses never more than the familiar shape of a hand, the curve of her cheek, fragmented sights he felt meant to torment him with what he had lost until the moment he began to wonder if he only remembered these fragments, if what he saw was coloured by his own memory of people and places.

He still remembered the redness of her curls – at least he thought he did. He remembered the feel of her body beneath his hands, those muscles born of shaping stone and hefting hammers. He remembered gentle light playing across skin slightly paler than his own, remembered tracing the scattered stars across her cheek with his tongue.

He saw those stars in the faces of some of his sons, saw echoes of her brightness, marred by the Oath and the deeds they had done. He saw them arrive, brought to him one by one, though they did not see him, and he could not bear to speak to those he loved most dearly for fear they would not hear him.

His sons; how terribly had he shaped their fates?

Looking back at it all, he hardly recognised himself, a creature of grief and pain, unwilling to listen to counsel or reason. She had been right to leave, and that, perhaps, was what hurt the most. To know that he had lost himself so completely that she no longer knew his heart, no longer understood him as only she had ever truly understood.

  Nerdanel stood on the precipice, her bare toes kissing the edge of the cliffs, overlooking the roiling sea. The gale blowing around her caught in loose curls, but she stood frozen, uncaring, barely feeling the breath of Manwë as it tangled her hair, pulled at the fabric of her clothes.

Her sons – bar one – were dead, and the last one… was Makalurë staring at the same grey waves that stretched before her eyes?

Her heart was a small wounded thing in her chest, beating slowly, painfully.

Had they been afraid, her sons?

Had they wished for her to hold them, hold them as they breathed their last, calling out to her with voices she could not hear?

Fëanáro had been wrong in haring off after Melkor – Morgoth as he had named him – but as news trickled back to her, tales of Kinslayings – plural! – of kidnappings, of neri that she scarcely recognised as the boys she had once laid to her breast, had raised with more love than she had thought herself capable of feeling… Nerdanel began to wonder if she had not been just as wrong in her stubborn refusal to follow.

Perhaps she could have… that way lay madness, surely. Where was her vaunted wisdom now? How had her feet brought her down this path, taken her from the life she had loved and made her stumble into this unrecognisable nightmare of a future?

Nerdanel… the wise. It left a sour taste in her mouth, the name, a bitter tang of loneliness and grief that it had not carried when he had named her so. What wisdom had been in remaining behind, in letting her sons – her sons! – throw their lives away thus, what wisdom in staying in this place where she was equal parts scorned and revered for the choice?

She had come here, escaping the looks cast her way in Tirion, in Alqualondë.

She had raised Kinslayers.

She had spoken against Fëanáro’s plan, and been banished for it.

Pity and scorn, always, pity and scorn. And pain. So much pain it felt like she had not taken a true breath since before Finwë was murdered.

There was no escape from this pain.

She did not hear her words even as she spoke them, did not care to note how she threw her fury, her agony, her grief, her love into the wind, screamed against the pain that had wrapped her in chains tighter than she could ever escape.

And still she could not hate him.

Oh, they thought she must, those people far away who had never understood what she shared with him, but Nerdanel knew that love was as tightly woven into her fëa as this new grief that cut a thousand bleeding wounds in her heart.

Beyond the pain, however, there was fury, fury strong enough to topple mountains if she let it.

Others had hope they might see their loved ones again, hope that they might make amends with those who had been wronged, those who had left… hope that was denied her.

For that, she did blame him.

For that, she did blame the Valar, their willingness to abandon the Children to their own devices, for that, she blamed even the All-Father, by whom they had foolishly sworn their oath.

My sons. How did we all come to this, my most beloveds?

How do we find the path that will lead us from this darkness, Fëanáro, when you cannot seek it with me?

  She sat in a hall he recognised, her lips pressed tight together as she watched a stranger come before her, speaking words meant to oust her from this place, this seat that Finwë had sat upon when he joined them in exile, and the vehement loathing in her eyes as she stared at the quailing ner before her was something at once alien and so familiar that Fëanáro shuddered to see it on her face. It was a look he had seen on his own face, mirrored in glass, but never in her, never shaped by her brows, her lips, her clenching fingers as anger warred within her.

“No.” Her refusal was plain, only one word; denial, pure and simple.

“You could return to Tirion,” the ner tried, but Fëanáro felt no surprise to see the steel in her gaze harden further. She was at least as stubborn as he; one of the reasons he had loved her.

“You may tell your King that he is welcome to visit me,” Nerdanel replied, and her voice held enough ice that Fëanáro half expected it to come out as a puff of frost, “but I am the Lady of Formenos, and here I shall remain.”

  She did not sing when she worked.

Somehow – and it surprised him to feel so, having teased her often that her singing was comparable to a cat that had been stepped on – the silence of Nerdanel’s workshop seemed to number among the greatest wrongs he had done her.

  The stars whirled ever onwards.

Fëanor had stopped reaching out, choosing silent endurance as each moment broke him down further.

  In the dead of night, she felt the ghost of his touch, wiping away the tears that only fell in darkness, loneliness, felt the way he would kiss silent apologies into her skin when he hurt her.

It was almost real, and almost real was not enough.

Nerdanel had realised ‘almost real’ hurt even more than ‘gone forever’.

  “I want them back.”

She said it clearly, decisively, like she was Queen – she was, she was his Queen, and no one would dare say otherwise – tired of smothering the fire that burned in her heart. The serving maiar did not reply, but Nerdanel did not care.

What had she, but time?

Settling with her back against a pillar she could have carved more beautiful in her sleep, Nerdanel waited.

What was there, for her, but steely determination?

Loneliness.

Loneliness, and anger, fury that would find no release, no easing of the pain she felt.

What was there, except the scorn and the pity as those who had died in Alqualondë began to return, while she grew paler by the day, losing more and more pieces of what made her her. Hope. It had been the first thing to vanish, leaving her with such fleeting steps she did not even notice its flight before it had abandoned her.

She had not come for hope.

She had not come for anger, for vengeance, not shown up at the Halls as a penitent seeking absolution.

She had come for love.

Love and fire.

Fire and pain.

Pain and love.

 To pass the time, she sang. Badly. She knew her strengths, and music was surely not among them – Makalaurë’s skill had ever fascinated her, the way his mind seemed to hear melodies in everything around him, his fingers plucking them out on a harp, his lips shaping them in a hum, a song.

Still, she had no desire to begin reshaping this travesty of stone that Mandos called his Halls – parts of it might have been beautiful, but it felt oddly unfinished, as though the sculptor had put down his tools while only half the design had been released from the stone – and so Nerdanel sang.

 “Why are you here?”

The question came days later, maybe weeks, months, years.

Nerdanel smiled; it was not a pleasant smile. The servant of Mandos took a step back.

“I want them,” she said. “All of them.”

 Námo’s hidden eyes saw all.

A wave of his hand made the specks of memory that floated around Fëanor whirl faster.

The stars held no fascination for him anymore, beyond trying not to wince when they pierced his mind with flashes of imagery.

Nerdanel in her workshop, offkey singing as her chisel shaped wondrous things became the stars once more.

The singing continued.

Fëanor started, whirling to peer through the impenetrable haze of stars that seemed to be no fewer than when his punishment had first begun.

Nerdanel.

It could be no other.

Fëanor grinned, feeling a curious sense of uplifting; she really was atrocious, and the sound was more precious to him than anything he could have named in that moment.

Pushing through the stars, Fëanor watched impatiently as each memory blurred together, a collage of thoughts and time.

And still, Nerdanel was singing in the distance.

   Perhaps the Valar had found some mercy in the war that had been fought beyond the sea, a glimmer of compassion, perhaps, Nerdanel wondered.

Sstaring at the doorway, she fell silent. Such familiar hair – her own, but sitting on a different head, mingled with darker strands, and single head of pale moonlight – and she reached for them, reached for them even as she saw hesitancy in their eyes, saw the way they expected her scorn, her disdain for their acts.

“Come to me,” she pleaded, reaching, reaching, hearing her blood thunder in her ears as her heart pushed it through her body.

They came.

Her arms were not long enough; they were bigger now than when they had left, or maybe she was smaller, but they fit with her nonetheless.

“Ammë.”

“My boys.” They were. Her boys, no matter what they had done, had seen; they were hers.

Nerdanel kissed brows, wiped away tears, crushed bodies against her, surprised by the strength that returned her hold.

“My boys,” she whispered, wishing that she could take the haunted looks from their eyes as easily as she was putting smiles on their faces.

  “I said all of them.” Nerdanel said later, making the seven around her startle, but her tone brooked no disagreement, and they settled around her, adding their stares to her own. “You will give them to me.” She said it, and he could hear the determination in her voice, did not need to hear the rest of her words to know what she meant to say. “You will give them to me, or I will follow them, this time, I will follow.” Silence greeted her. “Do not test me.”

Fëanor thought he was running, following the sound that had underscored much of his life, in truth, the sound of her voice.

He had left her behind in anger, and now he was running towards her, wishing for no more than a true glimpse.

The irony was not lost on him.

[motivationsuccess]

Life Quotes

Life Quotes

Concise quotations on life, love, and friendship - the wisest and the funniest! Life quotes from writers and poets, comedians and scientists, life quotes from gurus and philosophers, soldiers and statesmen.

Knowledge without Action is useless. Action without Knowledge is foolishness. Sai Baba

The man who does things makes many mistakes, but he never makes the biggest mistake of all - doing nothing. Benjamin Franklin

There is nothing more liberating than age. Liz Carpenter

A man should never be ashamed to admit he has been in the wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday. Alexander Pope

A true apology is more than just acknowledgement of a mistake. It is recognition that something you have said or done has damage a relationship and that you care enough about the relationship to want it repaired and restored. Norman Vincent Peale

Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it. Confucius

When we do the best we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or the life of another. Helen Keller

I have tried simply to write the best I can; sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can. Ernest Hemingway

A library is thought in cold storage. Herbert Samuel

Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely. Karen Kaiser Clark

The best index to a person' character is how he treats people who can't do him any good, and how he treats people who can't fight back. Abigail Van Buren

There are two lasting legacies we can hope to give to our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.

When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years. Mark Twain

Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship. Buddha

Don't find fault. Find a remedy. Henry Ford

Deal with the faults of others as gently as your own. Chinese proverb

Curiosity is the key to creativity. Akio Morita

Disappointment should be cremated, not embalmed. Henry S Haskins

It takes less time to do a thing right that it does to explain why you did it wrong. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The man who really wants to do something finds a way; the other man makes an excuse.

Always acknowledge a fault frankly. This will throw those I authority off their guard and give you opportunity to commit more.

Mark Twain

It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live. Marcus Aurelius

The greatest lesson in life is to know that even fools are right sometimes. Winston Churchill

Let us be grateful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed. Mark Twain

The man who opts for revenge should dig two graves. Chinese proverb

A genius! For thirty-seven years I've practised fourteen hours a day, and now they call me a genius! Pablo Sarasate

Often genius is just another way of spelling perseverance

Everyone is a genius at least once a year; a real genius has his original ideas closer together. George Lichtenberg

If people knew how hard I work to gain my mastery, it would not seem so wonderful at all. Michelangelo

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give. Winston Churchill

If there be any truer measure of a man than by what he does, it must be by what he gives. Robert South

A man generally has the good or ill qualities he attributes to mankind. William Shenstone

Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one. Marcus Aurelius

True goodness springs from a man's heart. All men are born good. Confucius

The measure of a truly great man is the courtesy with which he treats lesser men. Should we all confess our sins to one another we would all laugh at one another for our lack of originality. Kahlil Gibran

Hate is like acid. It can damage the vessel in which it is stored as well as destroy the object on which it is poured. Ann Landers

Do something for somebody every day for which you do not get paid. Albert Schweitzer

Only a life lived in the service of others is worth living. Albert Einstein

He who has health has hope. And he who has hope has everything. Arabian proverb

The best sense of humour belongs to the man who can laugh at himself.

Our five senses are incomplete without the sixth - a sense of humour.

There is nothing in the world more powerful than an idea. No weapon can destroy it; no power can conquer it, except the power of another idea.

Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the whole world. Albert Einstein

Remember always that you have not only the right to be an individual, you have an obligation to be one. You cannot make any useful contribution in life unless you do this. Eleanor Roosevelt

What's a man's first duty? The answer's brief: to be himself. Henrik Ibsen

You grow up the day you have your first real laugh at yourself. Ethel Barrymore

The two best physicians of them all - Dr Laughter and Dr Sleep. Gregory Dean

A perpetual holiday is a good working definition of hell. George Bernard Shaw

Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive. Elbert Hubbard

It's not how things turn out - it's the joy of doing it! Barbra Streisand

Life is good only when it is magical and musical, a perfect timing and consent, and when we do not anatomise it. You must treat the days respectfully...You must hear the bird's song without attempting to render it into nouns and verbs. Ralph Waldo Emerson

There are two things to aim for in life: first to get when you want; and, after that, to enjoy it. Only the wisest of mankind achieve the second. Logan Pearsall Smith

Do whatever comes your way to do as well as you can. Think as little as possible about yourself. Think as much as possible about other people. Dwell on things that are interesting. Since you get more joy out of giving joy to others you should put a good deal of thought into the happiness that you are able to give. Eleanor Roosevelt

Loneliness is a state of mind.

Luck is being ready for the chance.

There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. Albert Einstein

You know, by the time you've reached my age, you've made plenty of mistakes if you've lived your life properly. Ronald Reagan

Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new. Albert Einstein

What is moral is what you feel good after, and what is immoral is what you feel bad after. Ernest Hemingway

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more. Lord Byron

To see a world in a Grain of Sand, And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an hour. William Blake

There is no security on this earth; there is only opportunity. General Douglas MacArthur

God help those that help themselves. Benjamin Franklin

When one door closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has opened.

I am an optimist. It does not seem too much use being anything else. Winston Churchill

One of the things I learned the hard way was that it doesn't pay to get discouraged. Keeping busy and making optimism a way of life can restore your faith in yourself. Lucille Ball

There is not enough darkness in the whole world to extinguish the light of one small candle. Spanish proverb

If there was nothing wrong in the world, there wouldn't be anything for us to do.

George Bernard Shaw

A problem well stated is a problem half solved. Charles Franklin Kettering

Those things that hurt, instruct. Benjamin Franklin

Remember, without that uncomfortable bit of grit, the oyster would not produce those priceless pearls.

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. Ralph Waldo Emerson

I don't regret anything I've ever done, so long as I enjoyed it at the time. Katherine Hepburn

One's religion is whatever one is most interested in. J M Barrie

I am a deeply religious unbeliever. Albert Einstein

The important thing is not what they think of me, it is what I think of them. Queen Victoria

Some people regard discipline as a chore. For me, it is a kind of order that sets me free to fly. Julie Andrews

People who are unable to motivate themselves must be content with mediocrity, no matter how impressive their other talents. Andrew Carnegie

There's only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that's your own self. Aldous Huxley

Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakes. Carl Jung

Your goal is to find out who you are.

If you put a small value upon yourself you can be sure that the world will not raise your price.

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self. May Sarton

Sorrows are our best educators. A man can see further through a tear than through a telescope.

Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the power of the mind. Marcel Proust

Where there is sorrow there is holy ground. Oscar Wilde

A man who fears suffering is already suffering from what he fears. Michel de Montaigne

Sympathy is the golden key that unlocks the hearts of others.

Sympathy is thinking with your heart.

Tact is the ability to describe others as they see themselves. Abraham Lincoln

Tact is the ability to describe others as they see themselves. Abraham Lincoln

As soon as man does not take his existence for granted, but beholds it as something unfathomably mysterious, thought begins. Albert Schweitzer

It is not best that we should all think alike; it is difference of opinion which makes horse races. Mark Twain

If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything. Mark Twain

I never give them hell. I just tell the truth and they think it's hell. Harry S Truman

The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder. G K Chesterton

Thank God - every morning when you get up - that you have something to do which must be done, whether you like it or not. Being forced to work, and forced to do your best, will breed in you a hundred virtues which the idle will never know. Charles Kingsley

Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice and need. Voltaire

If you can't get the job you want, accept any work you can get and do your very best. You could be surprised where it leads.

Work is much more fun than fun. Noel Coward

My grandfather once told me there were two kinds of people: those who do the work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group - there was much less competition. Indira Gandhi

Without work all life goes rotten. Albert Camus

The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work. Robert Frost

I've shut the door on yesterday And thrown the key away - Tomorrow has no fears for me, Since I have found today. Vivian Y Laramore

Write in your heart that every day is the best day of the year. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Be yourself. Nobody is better qualified.

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Albert Einstein

It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. Samuel Johnson

Everybody knows if you are too careful, you are so occupied in being careful that you are sure to stumble over something. Gertrude Stein

Little minds are interested in the extraordinary; great minds in the commonplace. Elbert Hubbard

A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds. Francis Bacon

Although the world is full of suffering, it si full also of the overcoming of it. Helen Keller

It is better to ask some of the questions than to know all the answers. James Thurber

I often regret that I have spoken; never that I have been silent. Publilius Syrus

Always do right. This will gratify some people, and astonish the rest. Mark Twain

The future belongs to those who prepare for it. Ralph Waldo Emerson

No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness. Mary Wollstonecraft

Humor is an affirmation of dignity; a declaration of man's superiority to all that befalls him. Romain Gary

Only the disciplined are free. James C Penney

To be ignorant of one's ignorance is the malady of the ignorant. Amos B Alcott

Life is what happens to you while you are making other plans. A J Marshall

The wise man will always reflect concerning the quality, not the quantity, of life. Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Life consists of what man is thinking about all day. Ralph Waldo Emerson

A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o'clock runs a chance of leaving the other half undone. Emily Bronte

There is more to life than increasing its speed. Mahatma Gandhi

There is no wealth but life. John Ruskin

Believe that life is worth living and your belief will create the fact. William James

In three words I an sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on. Robert Frost

For it isn't enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn't enough to believe in it. One must work at it. Eleanor Roosevelt

We first make our habits, and then our habits make us. John Dryden

The greatest remedy for anger is delay. Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Without humility there can be no humanity. Sir John Buchan

Often the test of courage is not to die but to live. Vittorio Alfieri

Life is a long lesson in humility. Sir James M Barrie

All doors are open to courtesy. Thomas Fuller

The man who trusts men will make fewer mistakes than he who distrusts them. Camillo Di Cavour

It is a greater compliment to be trusted than to be loved. George Macdonald

Where the road bends abruptly, take short steps. Ernest Bramah

The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook. William James

A right is not what someone give you; it's what no one can take from you. Ramsey Clark

Never pay attention to what critics say. Remember, a statue has never been set up in honor of a critic. Jean Sibelius

Habits are at first cobwebs, then cables. Spanish proverb

An obstinate man does not hold opinions - they hold him. Samuel Butler

It is far better to know our own weaknesses and failings tan to point out those of others. Jawaharlal Nehru

Fear not those who argue but those who dodge. Marie von Ebner Eschenbach

Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize them. Ann Landers

Absurdly improbable things happen in real life as well as in weak literature. Ada Leverson

The brightest things you ever say are those you think about the next day. Arnold Glasow

Never make a promise in haste. Mahatma Gandhi

Conversation is the art of telling people a little less than they want to know. Franklin P Jones

No trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is made known silently. Agnes DeMille

He who sleeps in continual noise is wakened by silence. William Den Howells

No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible. Stanislaus Lezcynski

There is nothing so strong as gentleness, and there is nothing so gentle as real strength. St Francis de Sales

In youth we learn; in age we understand. Marie von Ebner Eschenbach

When angry, count ten before you speak; if very angry, a hundred Thomas Jefferson

He who praises everybody, praises nobody. James Boswell

Little things affect little minds. Benjamin Disraeli

A talent is formed in stillness, a character in the world's torrent. Johan Wolfgang von Goethe

We never do anything well till we cease to think about the manner of doing it. William Hazlitt

The easiest person to deceive is one's own self. Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Even nectar is poison if taken in excess. Hindu proverb

Of life's two chief prizes, beauty and truth, I found the first in a loving heart and the second in a labourer's hand. Kahlil Gibran

It requires more courage to suffer than to die. Napoleon Bonaparte

It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else. Erma Bombeck

Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live a car battery. Erma Bombeck

I'm going to stop punishing my children by saying, "Never mind! I'll do it myself." Erma Bombeck

There's a great power in words, if you don't hitch too many of them together. Josh Billings

When a man comes to me for advice, I find out the kind of advice he wants, and I give it to him. Josh Billings

Common sense is instinct, and enough of it is genius. Josh Billings

Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well. Josh Billings

Bore: a person who talks when you wish him to listen. Ambose Bierce

Acquaintance: A person whom we know Ambrose Bierce

An egotist is a person of low taste - more interested in himself than in me. Ambrose Bierce

Music can name the unnameable and communicate the unknowable. Leonard Bernstein

You and I do not see things as they are. We see things as we are. Henry Ward Beecher

He is rich or poor according to what he is, not according to what he has. Henry Ward Beecher

I never knew how to worship unit I knew how to live. Henry Ward Beecher

It is not what we take up, but what we give up, that make us rich. Henry Ward Beecher

Those who say it can't be done are usually interrupted by others doing it. James A Baldwin

Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. James A Baldwin

Knowledge is power. Sir Francis Bacon

The best part of beauty is that which no picture can express. Sir Francis Bacon

The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery. Sir Francis Bacon

Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand - and melting like a snowflake. Sir Francis Bacon

He that hath knowledge spareth his words. Sir Francis Bacon

I will never be an old man. To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am. Sir Francis Bacon

The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom Isaac Asimov

One reason why I don't drink is because I wish to know when I am having a good time. Lady Nancy Astor

Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away. Marcus Aurelius

The worst form of inequality is to try to make unequal things equal. Aristotle

What it lies in our power to do, it lies in our power not to do. Aristotle

Wit is educated insolence. Aristotle

Courage is the first of human qualities because it is the quality which guarantees the others. Aristotle

You live and learn. At any rate, you live. Douglas Adams

Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's a day when you've had everything to do, and you've done it. Lord Acton

Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. Scott Adams

A dog is not considered a good dog because he is a good barker. A man isnot considered a good man because he is a good talker. Buddha

An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind. Buddha

Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I hve said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. Buddha

Every human being is the author of his own health or disease. Buddha

He is able who thinks he is able. Buddha

Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship. Buddha

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. Buddha

It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways. Buddha

It is better to travel well than to arrive. Buddha

Teach this triple truth to all: A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity. Buddha

There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting. Buddha

To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent. Buddha

We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world. Buddha

The less you talk, the more you're listened to. Abigail Van Buren

Example is the school of mankind, and they will learn at no other. Edmund Burke

Reading without reflectin

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Beauty is Everywhere

As I look out into the world, I see so much to be grateful for. Surrounded by beauty, I am left in no doubt that we live in a spirit filled world that is becoming more authentic in the beauty that it is able to appreciate. For so long we have come to define beauty on a superficial level, but as we grow, so will our ability to appreciate beauty grow within us.

With this, understand that only can we recognize and appreciate what is truly beautiful when we have unified with the essence of our own beauty within ourselves. So many struggle to find the beauty in the world when they look outside. Fearful of what they will encounter, they see a world filled with anger, hostility and ugliness, and because this is what they see, this is what becomes real for them, and they continue to live as their self fulfilling prophecy would have it be.

Neglecting their own beauty, they have swallowed a nightmare pill which alters dramatically the world in which they see. Turning away from the spirit, they have chosen to embrace the ego, which sees things always in a distorted light. With power and strength to gain for itself, the ego is devoted not to searching for beauty, but to finding that which can build it up in the eyes of the world. Concerned with the physical world and pleasing those within it, it is not at all interested in the wisdom of the spirit.

Not wanting to be the protagonist in its own demise, the ego has a vested interest in keeping the true source of beauty from your eyes. Not wanting you to experience the awe that beauty inspires, it seeks to keep you in a state of boredom where you ask no questions of life. Asking no questions, you cease to interact with life, and you deprive yourself of the answers that God wants to give to you. This is what it means to be reactive to life, and to suffer in the process.

Called to be proactive, we do not grow in our experience of life, if we have closed ourselves off to what it seeks to teach us. Wanting to show us the beauty in the world and in ourselves, it is a willing teacher, but a teacher has no role to occupy without a student in attendance. This is why we must be open-minded in beauty's presence. With much to give, there is much to learn about the beauty of God which manifests itself in all things.

It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What this means to me is that each of us has the capacity to find beauty in different things. What some label beautiful, others might label ugly, and vice versa. But does it really matter what verdict is passed on whether something is pleasing to the eye or not? What matters absolutely is the seed of beauty to be found in all things that God has created. With the beauty of the creator pervading each of his creations, that beauty is definitely there to see. The question then becomes what is the quality of the vision of the observer?

Many are capable of seeing the beauty in all that surrounds them, but even more are not. Selective in what they ascribe the label 'beautiful' to, these people have chosen to honour the mind above the heart, which is all to discriminating. Seeing more than the mind is capable of seeing, the heart knows that it is futile to judge, because it realizes that judgment passed on that which appears in a diminished light is falsely condemned. Seeing only a portion of the whole, much is misunderstood; and embracing only a part, much is rejected as irrelevant. See in this, the dangerous game that we play when we choose to have the ego's eyes be the filter with which we view the world.

Seeing only fragments of beauty that it has contaminated through its own judgment, much is discarded, and even less honoured, for God cannot be seen by that which despises his presence. Wanting you not to see him, the ego will lead you to label as ugly, much that is beautiful in appearance and substance.

Intense in its loathing, the ego is not always rational in its judgment, and even in its certainty, it misses much to be appreciated. See in this how the ego's arrogance often leads it to abandon that which could otherwise serve it. Cursed in its blindness, it makes not for wise counsel to the one who searches for a deeper experience of life skin care products in malaysia.

Wanting to experience love, one must consult the heart, being the centre of beauty inside the self. Being not separate from God, it is the gift that God has given us to enjoy the world. Blessed with much, we can find much joy when we look upon the world with spiritual eyes. Hindered not by that which are the ego's shortcomings, we can see the love behind the barriers, and the distinctions which make the miraculous commonplace.

Blessed in spirit, we must not take for granted that which is capable of teaching us who we truly are. Endowed with wisdom, all of God's creations are capable teachers, and assuming not a separate identity from him, they are models to be emulated. With this, learn that beauty is distorted as the separation is affected. So as you travel far from him, so will your ability to experience beauty diminish in strength.

Concerned primarily with attaching labels in the moment, what eludes you is the beauty inherent in entering the moment. To enter the moment, is to join with God in your heart, and see what he sees in the physical world. With all that he created being good, you are then able to see the love that pervades everything in the light of the spirit. Appreciating everything just as it is, you understand that it is enough and that the ego does not have to be invited to enhance what is complete in itself.

Complete, the gifts of God are holy in what they hold and what they deliver. Endowed with beauty, they bring to the lost man, much that is invaluable. Longing for God, those who are lost, suffer in their desperation. Convinced of their own ugliness, the memories of their eternal beauty slip into the past. But the past is not lost forever, for every illusion stands to be corrected, and as a partner with eternity, it will not fail to reveal itself in a touch that the moment has in store, for the child who sees clearly now, not yearning for more.

One of the most memorable times that I recall beauty touching me deeply was in Florence when I went to see Michelangelo's David. I had heard from many people how wonderful this classical piece of sculpture was, but hearing a second hand account doesn't really prepare you for the effect that it has on the soul, when you see it in person. To say that I was taken aback by its beauty would be an understatement. I was left absolutely speechless! To think that one man saw this masterpiece in that block of marble and saw it as his purpose to bring it to life for all to enjoy is awe inspiring to me.

But as I was standing there, just gazing up at the masterwork, I knew not the distraction of thought that attempted to persuade my mind to intellectualize how the work was brought to life. This allowed me to centre myself and let the profound beauty that emanated from the shiny white surface, move my spirit powerfully in the moment. And as I just allowed the moment to touch me, I felt for a moment just how Michelangelo must have felt with the chisel in his hand and the spirit in his heart, for as I am not alone with my pen, he was not alone with his tools, for with every incision had God's hand revealed itself so gently and lovingly.