#full contretemps

[tfbsafeageappropriatedance]

AN ANIMATED POC SIMS 4 MOD IS DOING THE FAMOUSLY VIRAL MEDIUM ALLEGRO ENCHAINEMENT BY FORMER BERLIN STATE BALLET MASTER TOMAS KARLBORG!?!?!?

Oh, and if you haven’t tried the above combo out, ballet nerds, here’s a tutorial on that:

[maxarchive]

MAX-IMUM ATTACK 2017 Season Photos and words by Darren Heath

Monday lunchtime, Heathrow Terminal 5. Standing next to the slowly revolving baggage carousel, a fresh-faced, slightly awkward-looking - just out of his teens - young man is awaiting the arrival of his chattels.

Dressed in bland black trainers, similarly hued skinny jeans and an oversized hoody, this Young Turk ain’t winning any style awards. iPhone in hand, he’s busy swiping the screen in that head-bowed social media style billions of us now ‘enjoy’.

Max Verstappen doesn’t really do flash. He couldn’t look more ‘normal’. Yet put him in a racing car and he’s just about the most special talent to arrive on motor racing’s top step for decades.

Schumacher-esque – Michael of course! – is a term increasingly heard up and down the F1 paddock, such is the impact the Netherlands’ premier sportsman is now making.

I can see it too.

The fresh-faced 16-year-old boy who was, upon his arrival, so ignorantly dismissed by many within the sport is rapidly becoming a man. It’s amazing how quickly young sportsmen living life in the public gaze assume adulthood. Just take a look at Sebastian Vettel. The gawky kid of 2009 became the handsome dude of 2010!

What sets the potentially great apart from the mediocre? What makes Max Verstappen so, so much more special than, say, Carlos Sainz?

I guess it’s the whole package: the look; the mien; the steely character honed to be a racer almost from before he could walk; the utterly uncompromising way he dismisses any questioning of his racecraft; the toys-out-of-the-pram reaction to harsh penalties; the fast straight-out-of-the-box attacking style; and the rapier-like overtaking ability, the like of which we haven’t seen for many a year. Such was Max’s impact on the art of passing and defending, the rules had to be rewritten!

The way the car looks through the turns, the application of throttle, steering and immensely late braking. Metronomic in his blisteringly fast lap time delivery, this boy has the lot. He IS the future of Formula 1.

In so, so many ways – but let’s hope not all – Max is the new MSC.

Racing in an aggressive and forceful style often results in on-track contretemps with some of his more seasoned rivals. No matter, Max takes no prisoners, batting away questions about the legality of some of his racing moves with a dismissive arrogance that’s strangely appealing in its delivery.

Up to speed now and surely making Dan Ricciardo question his team-leading abilities, Verstappen is unquestionably Red Bull’s main man.

Off-track too, Max is sorted. Guided by his F1-experienced father, the young Verstappen has an able and well-qualified navigator at the helm. Learning from his own ill-advised 1990s F1 driving career decisions, Jos pays absolute attention so as to ensure his son maximises the opportunities on offer.

With top-drawer drivers in short supply, Red Bull had better make damned sure their 2019-and-beyond engine supply is top-notch. The bidding war for Max’s signature is already in full swing. Ferrari and Mercedes are enviously eyeing the Dutchman’s abilities with covetous desire.

It’s easy to forget that Max is only 20 years old. Way ahead in racing driver maturity - a relative term! – than so many millions of a similar age, Max has appeared mentally developed beyond his years since first he appeared in the F1 paddock at Spa 2014. It struck me then how entirely capable this 16-year-old boy was dealing with multiple language questions and untold camera lenses. Listening to his interrogator politely before answering calmly and intelligently, Max appeared born to the role…

Fast forward to now and Verstappen is a multiple grand prix winner and 2018 title-chasing challenger. Part of the new breed of F1 racers, Max leads the pack. Publicly respectful of his rivals, although privately dismissive of many, he well knows his place among the potentially great.

Michael Schumacher once opined – in an interview I photographed – that his father had advised him to heed well the arrival on the scene of the next great talent. The one who’d challenge and quickly replace the dominant male. Well, Lewis, Sebastian and Fernando, that man has arrived.

You’d best heed Herr Schumacher’s words well…

[goblinmatriarch]

Drarry 2022 Roundup!

Just some drarry I loved in 2022.

Love to do year round-ups weeks after the year ended and with zero system or approach except scrolling back through my bookmarks and being like "aw yeah, that one! Nice!". Anyway, here are 16 drarry fics that got me through 2022.

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (8.5k)

This was my erised gift and it's perfect! Some really fun magical lore, a perfectly fumbling bumbling Harry with a crush, and the rare oblivious Draco. It's quick and witty and sparklingly awkward.

The Unknown Door by waterwings (70k)

This fic was in a class by itself! The house magic was eerie and Draco's post-war fate was bleak, and then there is a slow, glorious healing of everyone through a community of misfits. Really imaginative magic and a lot of finding of lost ways.

The Stuff of Clouds and Skies by @myrtlefics (7.5k)

Harry with an obvious crush and ANOTHER oblivious Draco, truly 2022 was my year in that regard! And then there are the 17th century ghost bros, and Draco helplessly finding himself having to do things he thought he'd never do again to save Harry. And THEN Draco has to spend a bunch of time stumbling through an Auror investigation with a competent Ron and it's all just.....unf, so good.

Romp and Circumstance by @wolfpants (35k)

Like drinking champagne while horny. Such a sexy, fun fic, which makes sense as it's from Bodice Ripper Fest. Draco as the virginal ingenue meeting Harry's rake seduction head-on was delicious and overwhelming and full of 'technically' not crossing any sexy sexy lines, which, if you're into that, is hot as all get-out. (Spoiler: I am into that)

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (35k)

Hogwarts AU that puts Harry and Draco on the same team and also makes quidditch have some level of strategy, a feat in and of itself! Harry is a confused, bumbling seducer who is so bad at it that Draco has no idea, which means......another oblivious!Draco! It's funny and insightful and poignant and well worth a read.

In Free Fall by @kbrick (81k)

Harry is an adrenaline junkie doing stunts all over the world. Draco is a big old nerd. They grow to understand each other and make space in one another's lives. This was really thoughtful and insightful about like....mm, maybe what it's like wanting things different from the standard, and I was enthralled by the way Harry shaped and reshaped his life. Honestly don't think I'm doing this one justice, just read it.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (14.5k)

Ahhh this one is so much fun! Fake dating! Fake dating! And then a furious but handsome Draco, a community of friends, some very cool magical jobs, and Drunk Hermione my love.

The Truth about Love by waterwings (52k)

Pureblood magic and rituals being dismantled! All the fun of learning about ancient, complicated snobby binding rituals AND the joy of Draco's personal growth being in dismantling them. Lots of great friendship stuff, with Pansy and Hermione especially as affectionately mocking allies.

I have not yet forgot myself to stone by @elskanellis (3k)

Absolutely haunting Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind LCDrarry crossover. It's ambiguously tragic and lovely and fragile and beautiful. It takes the trope of them finding each other over and over no matter what and turns Harry's utter faith into a tragic flaw.

Welcome! Everything is Fine! by @melociraptor (12k)

A smart and funny Good Place @lcdrarry fic with pitch-perfect character voices. Truly worth a read for drarry encountering Jason Mendoza alone, and then there is EVEN MORE to love beyond that! It's sort of picaresque scenes from a year, varying between hilariously silly to startlingly poignant, and it's worth a read even if you're unfamiliar with the original work.

Our Time by @mosrael (40k)

Another fic with astonishing world-building and deeply cool magical lore. I've never seen the work it's based on (Arrival), and I did not care. The driving magical mystery was exciting, and the drarry relationship develops naturally and joyously alongside it.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8k)

I could have linked p much any tackytiger fic I've read this year buuuut this one is most recent in my bookmarks so it gets the shout-out 😂. It's a lovely, short, second-person look at Harry's observations of Draco over the years. Read it and then also the rest of tacky's fics.

Tis a Far Better Thing by @the-sinking-ship (37k)

This Clueless AU sent me on a tear through all of Sinking Ship's fics, and I stand by that choice. Draco's voice blends beautifully with Cher's, and Draco as the lost, confused fashion plate socialite discovering himself is absolutely perfect. This reclist could maybe double as an oblivious!Draco one because guess what he's here, too, and I love it.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by @dustmouth-blog (96k)

Comfort read that feels like taking a long hot bath then crawling into clean sheets for almost 100k words! Harry has some mh stuff to grapple with, and there are some gentle negotiations around sex and relationship stuff, and it's all so careful and soft and soothing.

Exposure by @margeurite (6k)

Suuuuch a hot fic omg. Draco accidentally discovers Harry's exhibitionist streak alongside Harry himself awkwardly realising oh no he is into this and it's just. Hoo boy. It's steamy.

Come as you Are by @peachpety (3.5k)

Peach is a master of texting/social media in fics, and this was the one that made me fall in love! Sweet little high school AU with awkward sexuality and a lot of fun online gossip

Potential Gravity by zeitgeistic (32k)

This one stands on its own; I can't really compare it to any other fic. Harry's lack of care for his own life is in full effect, and Draco is so angry at him for it. Some cool looks at magic and magical govt outside of England (in Beirut!) And also there is a baby manticore.

Knead, then let rise by @softlystarstruck (7k)

I guess another theme of my year is soft, gentle, soothing fics of healing. Real mystery, that, cannot even guess why that might have been 😅. Anyway, it's lovely and domestic and sweet.

And that's all, folks! Read em, don't read em, but those were my favourite fics that I read in 2022! Thanks to all the authors for making me laugh, cry, or soothe myself to sleep!

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hello Hello and the Happiest of Fridays!

I'm thrilled to have @shealwaysreads in the library today! I've followed her for a long time and am always delighted by her posts on my dash. She has excellent taste, and has picked an incredible fic to share with us. Without further ado, I'll let Bella take over!

I did a slightly ridiculous gasp and wiggle when the lovely @thedrarrylibrarian reached out to ask me to share a fic rec for their brilliant Happy Hour, and was beyond delighted to be chosen to open the new year with a story I loved. 

I haven’t actually been able to read much fic over the last year, except for short pieces, which has really crystallised for me how much I really do love short fic. The skill, choices, focus, and subtle characterisation that’s so necessary for a fantastic short read is intense, and I find myself endlessly full of admiration for writers who can take on that challenge and create something beautiful.

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose is one of those brilliant stories—written for @hd-erised it was the last fic I read in 2022 and it was everything I hoped for, so I thought it would be the perfect story to share with everyone to kick off 2023!

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (8,488 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy has been living like a model citizen. If only he could convince Potter.

In less than 10k Rosie manages to create such a full feeling world, with brilliant cameos from Ron and Hermione, brief but sharp and defined OCs, and a Pansy I adore beyond measure (a running theme in her work, do check out her back-catalogue and ready yourself for falling in love), along with a delicious Harry—dimpled, earnest, and transparent (or so Draco thinks), and a Draco pov that is positively sparkling (if slightly misguided).

Just the opening two lines shows you so much about Rosie’s deft world building, and fantastic sense of humour. By the third paragraph (full of brilliant characterisation) you are completely in-world, immersed in the tale she’s woven, and ready to be delighted.

I sat and highlighted a ream of quotes from the fic, and then realised I was essentially sharing every single bit of it. So I’ve given myself a stern talking to and settled on just one, which made me laugh out loud and captures perfectly Draco and Harry’s dynamic at the beginning of the fic:

“Draco imagined wrapping his fingers around Potter’s throat. Sometimes he even imagined strangling him. Sometimes.”

Draco’s perspective, and Harry’s characterisation, make the misunderstanding and miscommunication work so perfectly, so believably, that along with the urge to give them both a gentle slap I also found myself grinning away while they fumbled. 

Rosie’s fics always leave me bone-deep satisfied. She has that innate talent and well-honed skill to spin a world full of characters that feel so real you could reach out and hug them, and to guide you gently along emotional journeys to a resolution that leaves your heart warm and light every time. Short, or long, her stories are rich and generous, full of subtly crafted details that build a world (Contretemps is full of these—Hermione’s recent laws, Draco’s pirating choices, the queue outside Harry’s office) and even moments of sadness are leavened and balanced by the absolute gift she has for humour in her writing. 

Every fic of hers has made my day better, has lifted me up and set me on my way with a smile.

A special note: Rosie always undoes me with her food descriptions, and by undo I mean ‘wake up my appetite but ONLY AND SPECIFICALLY for what she has just laid down in words before me. I have once and will likely again actually gone and bought what she’s written about simply to sate my fic-induced hunger. If you’re anything like me you will find yourself reaching for a snack about halfway through this fic, and find yourself desperately wanting meringues and apricots.

I’ll stop myself there, before I spend the next thousand words singing the praises of this fic and @moonflower-rose’s writing, and hope that you all click the link and read Contretemps. I guarantee it will make your day if you do!

Thank you so much to @thedrarrylibrarian for inviting me to be a part of Happy Hour, and for all of your brilliant recs. As a Library Person™ it just brings me so much joy to be part of this project and the gift it is to the Drarry fandom. 

Happy 2023 everyone, I hope it’s a beautiful one, filled with fic and art! ❤️

Thank you once more, to @shealwaysreads for joining us today! Be sure to check out her own writing on her AO3!

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[allthatisleftinthedark]

scenes from a simpler time.

Rated: T (adult joke) - Words: 628 - Cast: Aimon Elrose, Maisie Doscedar  A year before the campaign, specifically before the "Contretemps of the Academy of Arcane Arts" event.

"Maisie, how in Esterah were you able to make this?" Aimon tapped the utensil against the caramelized shell, twirling a silver spoon between xyr fingers. Xyr sea-blue eyes darted between the ramekin in xyr grasp and the gnome. Positioned behind xyr ornate desk in one of the many smaller studies of the manor, xe observed Maisie as she sifted through the day's correspondence and research notes.

"Finding a reliable supplier for the head chef right when their former contract turned flaky has its benefits!" Maisie replied, her voice slightly muffled. Aimon leaned forward in xyr chair, catching a glimpse of a spoon peeking out from her mouth. "Chef Ardeth is reasonable when not pushed to the brink of exhaustion, especially when someone decides a spontaneous grand feast is in order, requiring a new menu at that moment." 

Aimon laughs. "None of that was my doing! Neither was it granny's." 

"That's one of the few graces House Elrose has; they aren't baroque compared to the other three houses." 

After a brief pause and a throat-clearing, Maisie said, "..Actually." Her gaze meets the elf's, xyr raised eyebrow inviting her to continue. She peruses the documents, deciding that utilizing politeness and not making the obvious joke would serve her better. 

Wealth isn't quite a topic to be jested in and with the oligarchy. 

"Are you going to keep playing it like a drum, or will you finally try it?" The gnome resumes conversation. She pulls the spoon from her mouth and returns it to the dessert, now slightly tilted from its creamy contents.

"Yes, yes," the shell cracks sharply in the air as Aimon finally delivers a swift blow from xyr spoon. As xe scratched the rim of the small bowl, gaining both custard and shell, Maisie was commentating. Her tone breathes with pride and nostalgia, a rare glint in her eyes that Aimon, admittedly, has seen less and less of over the years. 

"This happens to be one of my favorites to make! Whether in a tavern, pub, farm, or a noble's kitchen, it's simple, quick, and doesn't need too many ingredients!" 

Once xe finally brought the spoon to xyr mouth, it was as if heaven was gifted to xyr lips. "Mmm!" Aimon gleefully kicked xyr legs, savoring the sweetness without a hint of tartness. "Mai, this is so good!" 

"I know, right!?" The gnome clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"Granny would love to try it!"

"Lord Elrose," Maisie corrects xem sharply, hands on her hips, with a cocked brow, "disturbing the House Elrose matriarch during work is the equivalent of a lone soldier jumping into a drake's mouth." 

Speaking with a mouth full of dessert, Aimon retorted, "You already made one for her, didn't you?"

Attempting to maintain her stern facade, Maisie's eyes darted away. "I made her one," she mumbles her confession. 

"And you let her know, right?"

"I had Jacob discreetly set it on her desk during their afternoon schedule review," she admits.

A cheeky grin forms on Aimon's face, "Of course you did!" 

Sheepishly, Maisie retrieves her ramekin again and scoops a spoonful of dessert. Her eyes avert, ears feeling hotter than ever. 

She says under her breath, "It's one of my favorites, and I am not one to leave someone out." 

"You're so nice, Mai." Aimon's smile relaxes, more dotingly on the embarrassed gnome. "Not only nice but kind too." 

"And you know what?" Xe sits up in their chair, brows raised. "I like my men the way you like your desserts! Stuffed and creamed!" 

Maisie clutches her chest. She gasps, her spoon stuck midway to her mouth, and a coughing fit ensues. She pulls out the utensil. "Mon!" She laughs in disbelief. 

Aimon blinks. "What? It got you to laugh!" 

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 11.. March 1834

6 20

12 10

my cousin had come a little in the night – fine morning F54° at 7 5 – writing little paragraph in answer to Miss W-‘s indecision about Lidgate – out at 7 ½ - by Charles Howarth’s into my  walk and an hour  there– then with Pickles or one other till 9 ¾ at which hour breakfast in the little sitting room – my father had printed prospectus of the history and antiquities of Halifax by Mr Edwards Alexander the attorney - Letter 3 pages and ends and 1st page crossed (forwarded by Dr. Belcombe from York) from M- Leamington – very affectionate and very judicious answer to my last – hopes I found Miss W- better ‘Is she une malade imaginaire  because Steph says in speaking of her to me  ‘if Miss Walker was poor she would probably not be sick’ ‘ Has anything passed in reference to the occurrences of last spring, and have you any reason to believe an answer on the same subject, if again required, would be different from that which you received last year. Freddy, since you have been in York, my thoughts have been perpetually full of you  I do love you dearly and fondly come what may my heart is not unfaithful and still as formerly and forever  my joys by yours are known   ‘What you say on the subject of making things answer is I doubt  not true as applied to you, because you have energy of character to do with your mind, what you will

SH:7/ML/E/17/0006

but not one in a thousand could in reality so bend to circumstances - you are one whose practice can be made to accord with your theory, but nevertheless there is no reason why you, with others, should not profit by the maximum of ‘look before you leap.’  - I know quite well, that it would take much more to make you satisfied than you think, for my own feelings have more than once brought the conviction that even now she  who occupied the ‘fairy visions of your youth’ would have new lessons to learn - you won’t allow it, and I know you argue well against it, but your views of domestic life are changed  and I am quite assured the people and things that could have made you happy some years ago, would not do so now, without the help of your ‘I will make it answer’ - that all, and  everything, you undertake may answer will always, dearest Fred, be my earnest prayer - God knows what time may bring to us both, but my visions for the future, do not offer a much brighter prospect than the present presents  - as the last 18 years have passed, so do I expect will be those to come, and the only comfort I have to cling to is, the circumstance that if I have few individual pleasures, I at least enjoy that of doing good to others   There are many who would have been sadly off without me, and in having done good, I can, and do, perpetually find my best consolation.  Should anything under existing contretemps deprive me of this solace, life would be altogether a burthen.’  - How one false step in early life may blast the whole remainder upon days! Poor Mary! She has disappointed me too cruelly;  but her fate, as it was her own making, is more pitiable than mine – the new lessons she would have to learn, are, how to regain my confidence - it was in losing this, she lost the all she now regrets - and  her affection for me now is the forced tribute of esteem - Marian, too, had a letter which she said annoyed her -  on inquiry – It was from Mr George Brearleyrn Terrace Grove Mirfield  to whom I wrote for her the following answer    Sir my sister has just received your letter which she has very properly put into my hands as also a copy of her answer of the third of January to your previous letter which answer ought to have  prevented  your giving her any further trouble  I hope you will deem this communication from me sufficiently  explicit and that you will see the necessity of for bearing either to write again or to call at Shibden Hall on any plea whatever I am sir etc. etc. etc.  A. Lister   Marian much pleased and obliged and being just going to Halifax put it in the post herself  out again at 12 for a little while then came in and wrote all but the last 9 lines of today - out again at 2 and from then to 7 ¼ out with one or other - chiefly with John Booth planting out flowers in my walk then moving large white rose tree, and Persian lilac, and large Aucuba japonica from the terrace to the other side the upper garden door - Mallinson Pickels and his son John and Dick helped to move the latter - In the meantime Mark Town, Mr Jospeh Akroyds’ watchman  came to take the Hanging Hey & Flat Field 11D.W. at £2 the tenant paying all taxes - will come again about them tomorrow -Dinner at 7 ½ - coffee and read till 8 ½  the 2nd series Waldensian Researches from p.382 to 425 - Pickels and his men at the terrace - Mallinson and his man at the chimney (walled (bricked) in my father’s window) Charles and James H- at the cupboard with drawers for the upper buttery and John Booth shifting gravel and soil in the morning and flowers and shrubs in the afternoon - an hour with my aunt -  wrote 3 pages to Miss W- till 11 ½ - very fine day - F55° now at 11 35 pm.

[freelance-informatique]

Fréjus Saint-Raphaël vs Le Puy Foot reporté au 30 mars à cause de la météo

Ce week-end, les fans de football étaient impatients de voir s'affronter Fréjus Saint-Raphaël et Le Puy Foot en National 2. Malheureusement, cette rencontre tant attendue a été reportée, petite déception chez les supporters des deux équipes. Fréjus Saint-Raphaël et Le Puy Foot : conditions météorologiques défavorables La décision de reporter le match Fréjus Saint-Raphaël vs Le Puy Foota été prise en raison des conditions météorologiques défavorables. Une alerte orange pluie-inondation a été déclarée dans le Var, ce qui a obligé les autorités locales à prendre des mesures de précaution. C'est par le biais des réseaux sociaux que Fréjus Saint-Raphaël a annoncé l'annulation du match, après un arrêté municipal. Une nouvelle qui a rapidement circulé parmi les supporters, l'excitation de voir leur équipe jouer est donc reporter. Lire aussi : National 2 : Antonio Barrios Moreno devenu coach adjoint pour donner un nouveau souffle au Jura Sud ? Repos forcé pour Le Puy Foot Le Puy Foot se retrouve donc avec un week-end de repos forcé, une situation qui pourrait impacter leur dynamique en championnat. Cette pause inattendue offre également une opportunité aux joueurs de recharger leurs batteries et de se préparer pour les défis à venir. Malgré ce contretemps, il se murmure que la rencontre pourrait être reprogrammée pour le samedi 30 mars. Une lueur d'espoir pour les supporters ? Ils attendent avec impatience de voir leur équipe sur le terrain, Rendez-vous est donc pris. Voir également : National 2 :  SO Romorantin se donne pour objectif de prendre la tête du Groupe B Les regards tournés vers les concurrents En attendant, Le Puy Foot devra garder un œil attentif sur les résultats des autres équipes. En particulier, les performances de Grasse à Bourgoin et d'Aubagne à Toulouse seront scrutées de près, ces équipes étant les principaux concurrents de Le Puy Foot en tête du classement. Les joueurs de Le Puy Foot restent déterminés de leur coté à poursuivre leur ascension en championnat. Le repos forcé leur offre l'opportunité de se préparer mentalement et physiquement pour les prochains défis qui les attendent. Bien que le report de la rencontre ait déçu de nombreux supporters, il offre également une occasion aux équipes de se préparer de manière optimale pour les matchs à venir. Les regards sont désormais tournés vers le futur, avec l'espoir de voir les joueurs briller sur le terrain lors de la reprogrammation de ce match très attendu. Read the full article

[viraajsisodiya]

The meaningful annotation of religious-piety in human society is that focalization method denoted by irrefutable truthfulness, appanages and unobjectionable superiority which enucleationly blocks it from the power to commit unrighteousness.

It is that elected and germane arrangement of the material world whose union is intrinsically the amplitude of irrefutably attaining God, and fundamentally an irrefutable meeting of the devotee and his Master at some spiritual rendezvous.

The horizon of man's worship and liturgical existence lies in the unquestionable and uncontested appurtenant. But if till the definitive term of his life he imperturably adopts and utilizes the company of conscinnous, utilitarian, advantageously and demosthenian properties, then his Lord Himself remains watertight and competent to discover him till the dernier.

Thereafter the respective acts of inveracity, apocryphal, mendacity, phantom and sorriness unretardants the deprecation of a life full of vain, malefeasance and disparagement and also brings contretemps, aversion, spite, dissimilation, discord and antagonism. The impugnment of which God Himself makes as a magistrate.

#Truthfulness #Goodness #God #BhagavadGita #Inspiration🙏🙏

[tfbbehindthedesigns]

The Story Behind the “Full Contretemps” Zazzle Item Lines

In summer 2023, Tomas Karlborg resigned as ballet master for the Berlin Ballet. One of his parting gifts to the ballet world was a clip from their World Ballet Day 2021 company class on stage, accompanied by Nodira Burchanowa on the piano. It was a medium allegro combination inspired by George Balanchine.

The steps go as follows: temps leve 1st arabesque, 2 full contretemps into a temps leve passe, then a temps leve 1st arabesque into a contretemps to temps leve 3rd arabesque. The dancer then takes two steps arrriere (to the opposite direction) to a temps leve developpe ecarte derrière to a balance arriere. The dancer does a tombe, pas de bourree, glissade, to a grand pas de chat, or the pas de Balanchine as Karlborg calls it.

The clip was posted on TikTok in the middle of May in 2023, but later that next month, ballet dancers current and former started doing the medium allegro combo wherever they could, regardless of whether they were wearing sneakers and street clothes or pointe shoes and tutus. Sophie Silnicki did it down the shore in North Wildwood, NJ, in a bikini on the sand.

“Growing up, being trained constantly, day after day, you know all of those ballet terms. You can hear the terms and immediately know the combo,” she said.

Most organizations, ballet schools, and even ballet competition bodies also got into the act. The Dutch National Ballet had their danseurs in gowns pull it off. YAGP has at least two videos featuring female ballet students execute it in tutus.

Some competition-oriented studios and mom-and-pop ones also dove in. After all, it trended smack-dab in the middle of intensive season.

Even Silnicki’s former dance troupe, The Rockettes, hopped on the bandwagon - LaDuca Annie boots first, LITERALLY.

And later on, Ballet for All posted a living room-friendly version of the medium allegro enchainement. It may omit the temps leve 1st arabesque after the temps leve passe to a contretemps before the temps leve 3rd arabesque, but it’s about feasible.

And yes, I REQUESTED IT, having seen several videos of dancers pulling it off.

Apart from at least two tutorials of the combo on TikTok, Yelena’s on YouTube explicitly mentioned the aforementioned contretemps included in it!

Here’s a personalizable notebook from my Zazzle collection!

Even days before Ballet for All’s tutorial was released, the medium allegro combo that went viral on TikTok sparked a merchandise line on the TFB for Safe and Age-Appropriate Dance Ed. Zazzle store: Full Contretemps. Each item is emblazoned with the script text that answers one of the deepest questions some ballet students ask, “Ummm… can you demonstrate a full contretemps once more?”

“This is an excellent example of important good content is on social media — even if it isn’t new,” Ceci Ddisman wrote on ArtsHacker, “Great content can be evergreen. Crafting captivating content significantly increases the likelihood of engaging a larger audience.”

And evergreen the medium allegro combo had been. And it became the influence behind the Full Contretemps merch line on Zazzle.

[shoutsthedustflake]

I was reading a post on a popular history blog (by "popular" I suppose I mean it updates regularly and seems to have commenters, although who the hell knows that the words "popular," "history" and "blog" mean in that order in the present day).

I was reading a post on this blog about the decline of history as a profession. As someone who flung himself bodily from the path of history grad school and sometimes wishes he hadn't (despite knowing it was the right decision), the topic is of some interest to me. I then made the mistake of reading the comments. You see, the OP had made a passing reference to the controversy over a small essay by the president of the American Historical Association, an Africanist at UW-Madison named James Sweet. As one might expect from someone who is the president of a professional organization, he's older; it is relevant to the linked piece and the entire contretemps that he's white. The blogger linked the same piece I did above, but rather than talking about the now months-old controversy, talked about the president of the AHA bemoaning, in the _Atlantic_, the allegedly impending death of the scholar to scholar monograph rather than the truly dire straits that the historical profession finds itself in.

The piece does, indeed, include a link both to the essay that started the whole affair, as well as links to a range of responses -- some clearly dashed off, some more considered, some broad, some focused. You're free to read them and agree or disagree in whole or in part. I encourage you to; I certainly did.

I feel like I have to give you this background, gentle-but-entirely-notional reader, to really give you the full context for why seeing someone in the comments describe what happened as "the mau-mauing of James Sweet" blew my hair back. Imagine reading a piece on an intramural but, frankly, relatively low-stakes fight (if you followed the link above, you may have already done this). Then put yourself in the shoes of someone who looks at that and thinks "yes, the best way to describe what happened is to conjure the colonial bogeyman of unhinged Africans attacking the white man" and then expects to be treated as a good faith interlocutor. Perhaps, more in sorrow than in anger, he thinks at his keyboard that the other side has already abandoned reasoned discourse. Maybe he's just an asshole.

[tfbsafeageappropriatedance]

Just when you think the TikTok trend of ballet dancers pulling off the VIRAL-POPO medium allegro enchainement by ex-Berlin State Ballet master Tomas Karlborg has died down considerably:

I don’t speak Korean (though you can feel free to like and reblog if you do), BUT while on the subject of FULL CONTRETEMPS, I have JUST THE THING FOR ALL YOU BALLET NERDS for the so-called “sweater weathers:”

[flmed]

nonchalantly brushing the remnants of his liquor from the brims of the glass, before a clicking sound 'tween his tongue &. the roof of his mouth interrupts her musing upon the accident; he is surprised that it may have not been her first time dealing with the stunt . . . perhaps the other's supporters aren't as gracious as hers, however it is comical to think that they only targeted her for a ludicrous jest that shall lingers for period of time,

❝ yes, you shouldn't have too, but most of americans aren't as intelligent as you, ❞  beaming, the man's holding the decanter to pour into his own glass, however doesn't do the same to hers because it's still half-full,

❝ no offense, but i think it's diabolical that this country only has two major parties for the election–––––that's how cults were formed, ❞  shrugging indifferently, guised 'neath poised demeanour despite it is undeniably churlish to say in front of her after her contretemps, however the indulgence seeps within him, ❝ do you ever think about your supporters might do the same to the other candidate? or are they just as gracious as you are.. ❞ 

it shouldn't bother her. she could beat hollis doyle and his cult of redneck followers in her sleep. but god is it frustrating and gross and beneath her that she has to put up with them in the first place. at least the other republican contenders have brains, even if their ideas are misguided and wrong for the country. this stunt? it was idiotic and it's all the press will be talking about for the next news cycle. it's got her riled up, whether it should or not.

she exhales a sigh of relief as he hands over a glass, and she is noticeably calmer after taking a long swig. mellie's gaze settles on him as he pays her a compliment ━━ much needed, whether she'd admit it or not. " i can handle it. but i shouldn't have to. that man has been allowed to tout his nonsense for too long. "

[formulamei]

il predestinato, － charles leclerc.

summary: ferrari's golden boy charles leclerc doesn't take it too kindly that you, his teammate, are consistently outperforming him over and over again. unfortunately for him, you're not very keen on giving up either.

word count: 2.7k

content: NSFW smut / explicit sexual themes (IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH SMUT, SIMPLY DON'T READ.), quite a bit of plot, female! reader, ferrari teammates au, f1 driver! reader, unprotected sex (this is fiction, be responsible irl), vaginal sex, hate sex, you and charles are kinda very mean to each other, rivalry, pet names (italian)

a/n: whoever reads this, you matter and ily <3. english isn't my native language so if there are some small errors, my bad! besides that, i'm so happy with how this turned out!! especially the part before the smut even begins lmao. uh also as heads up my italian is really bad but i only used it for like two pet names so cheers. i'll make a masterlist tomorrow evening or so :).

taglist: @cormac-kenway

the media loved the two of you; they reveled in your feuds and thrived with your contretemps, which more often than not escalated into full-on altercations. the seeds of your rivalry were planted the moment you shook hands on your first day, and ever since then it was the journalists' turn to harvest its seasonal sow.

much like charles, albeit two years later than him, you joined formula one as a rookie in alfa romeo after winning the formula two championship, proving yourself over and over again for each race against your teammate and considerably faster cars. your impressive debut season only carried on into 2021 with an immediate promotion to the legendary team of ferrari.

you had been continuously outperforming him during the race weekends so far, holding two more podiums over him after the summer break and having better qualifyings so far.

tensions ran high, it was clear to see. italy's press was all over you, headlines upon headlines of a potential new ferrari legend and the girl who dethroned il predestinato appearing in the news.

you were no michael schumacher, lewis hamilton or juan manuel fangio － honestly, you knew that and were aware of the media being overly dramatic. it was only your second season in this series. however, you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy holding the public's words and compliments above charles' head.

despite your strong competitiveness to prove your superiority in the field, charles and you reluctantly knew that the other was also something of a generational, outstanding driver. not that either of you would ever admit to that. regardless, it didn't change the fact that you tasted disdain on the tip of your tongues at the bare mention of each other's success.

charles despised it, truly. he cursed this season and having you as a teammate, but most importantly, he cursed this weekend. he loathed its outcome, loathed the dozens of flashing cameras shoved into his face to capture his rage and disappointment.

of course, your first victory simply had to be at monza. he had fond memories at monza, mostly from his own win in 2019, but also from his best friend pierre's win in 2020, regardless of his DNF. charles knew he should be proud of getting second himself after the nightmare of a season 2020 had posed, however losing out on a win to you, out of all drivers on the grid, had him seething.

your team, including you, were over the moon. a win, more precisely a 1-2, and that in italy with the support of the few tifosi which could enter after the covid regulations, was a dream come true. charles didn't want to ruin the team and the fans' celebratory mood, so he took a deep breath, got out of his car and swallowed his pride － just these few hours of press obligations, then you can forget this race, he told himself.

he endured the podium, sitting through the press conference in champagne-drenched overalls and giving passive aggressive comments about your, in his view, unfair overtake on him during the post-race interviews with various journalists.

mere minutes later he found himself in the strategy room of ferrari's hospitality, standing on his side of the room among the talking engineers. when you entered, his gaze trailed from your radiant smile down to your red racing overalls and back up again. charles couldn't find it in himself to deny your attractiveness, rivalry aside.

the team's debriefing held more strain and hostility than ever, discussing their good race strategy and pure happiness at a first-second finish to keep the atmosphere as light as possible; the engineers and strategists ignored the obvious state of enmity between their drivers.

"your move to take the lead was dirty," he finally voiced, accusingly pointing his index finger at you for a short moment. the room fell silent, some employees sighed in what one could only describe as "not again…" and others uncomfortably tried to get out of the situation at hand.

"it was fair," you replied, rolling your eyes.

he scoffed, shaking his head, and you caught yourself eyeing his hands as he crossed his arms. "we both know you got an advantage from pushing me wide out of the turn!"

"did you seriously not see the room to the left of you? i was the one on the inside," you argued, furrowing your eyebrows. arms crossed, you mirrored him standing a few meters in front of you.

"you are stupid," he hissed.

"i believe that's what you called yourself, remember? and it was my apex, i was ahead of you into the turn－"

"you're acting like children, both of you," your team principal huffed, gesturing wildly with his hands. "we'll hold this debrief tomorrow, when you guys can act civilly. now go, celebrate, whatever."

dismissed by binotto, you stormed out the door past charles and headed to the driver's rooms on the floor above. entering the one which was designated for you, you unzipped your race suit and let the sleeves of it hang beside your hips, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. surely, celebrating a victory should look different at your team. you cursed charles for leaving your maiden victory with a sour aftertaste.

you were in the middle of drinking some water when there was a sharp knock on the door. however, before you could even utter as much as a word, it was already opened. now what you certainly weren't expecting was to see your teammate, your rival, standing opposite of you.

"what the hell are you doing here, leclerc?" you demanded, pointing the empty water bottle at him and promptly chucking it into your backpack.

"we have to talk," he said pointedly, his slightly pursed lips and set eyebrows the only indication of the inner conflict he found himself in.

"we usually don't have very productive talks," you quipped, not moving an inch, an overconfident grin creeping onto your face, "actually, i much prefer to spend my time doing my talking on the track. i'd advise you to do the same."

charles clenched his fists after his eyes flitted towards the glorious trophy and the mandatory first position podium hat perched on your shelf. "stop being so childish," he snarled, letting out a huff of air through his nose in exasperation.

"come on, what is it? what must be so important that ferrari's golden child has to talk to me in my driver's room?" you mocked, still engaged in the staring battle that had commenced. you nearly gulped at the obvious sexual tension in the room, but shying away from something had never been on your agenda anyways.

"god, do you ever stop talking?" he remarked, taking a few steps closer to you. you were so close to each other that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. acutely aware of the situation, charles still caved in to the desire of observing your features up close, eyes lingering on your lips for just a moment too long.

"says the one who talks so much i think he might be trying to compensate for something," you whispered, striving to get under his skin. and boy, it worked.

"i think i'll just have to show you that i have nothing i need to compensate for," he whispered back in a low tone.

for a barely describable moment, time stopped. and then the tension seemed to have broken out of its carefully established enclosure, boiling over in waves that kept building and building; and like tides breaking on the shore, they crashed down on you.

you weren't even sure who initiated the kiss, but your lips met in a rather ungraceful manner, all teeth and tongue as your hands went up into his hair while his took a hold of your hips with a bruising grip. you'd definitely had calmer makeouts with other people, but the way neither of you wanted to give in and submit to the other and the messy, heated nature of it all left you more turned on than anything else.

charles pressed your bodies together with a pull at your hips, prompting a tug of his hair on your side. he groaned at the feeling, parting briefly after biting your bottom lip to get more oxygen into his system. his head was spinning, breathing unevenly.

while he was panting in front of you, your hands trailed down his neck, unzipping his race suit similar to yours and running your hands over his well-trained chest.

you shoved him against the door, locking it quickly, before your mouth was on his for the second time that evening. your hands grazed his hardening dick through the fabric and he hissed at the sudden pressure.

as his mouth latched on to your throat, rosy lips leaving dark hickies in their wake, you fumbled his fireproofs and underwear down his thighs, the nomex impeding the ease you would have liked.

when charles let his head fall against the white door, you breathily laughed with a smug grin. the little sounds he emitted while you teasingly swiped your thumb over his tip, smearing his pre-cum, were turning you on more than you cared to admit.

"stop fucking teasing," he glared at you, yet couldn't help the way your ministrations made him tilt his head up in pleasure.

"who knew you'd be so desperate for me?" you mocked, finally pumping him in your hand. he groaned in response.

"who knew you'd be so annoying?" he bit back, "stop kidding yourself, you're just as into this as i am."

"shut up and make yourself useful."

"then get that fucking suit off," he muttered, pulling your hand away from him with a hiss. another teeth and tongue clashing kiss was shared as the thought of reducing each other to a needy, moaning mess festered in your minds. no time was wasted during the discarding of the obligatory racing gear, clumsy hands hastily pushing and pulling each item of clothing off the other's body.

you stood naked against each other, him still pressed up against the door while his needy hands caressed and squeezed your body. charles was completely enraptured with you in front of him; and you certainly weren't any less in awe with the sight of him.

despite the red flags, flashing lights and resounding alarms going off in the back of your heads, neither of you wanted to stop. it was too tempting, too big of an opportunity. not that rational was close to taking over your emotions right then anyways.

charles' rough fingertips pulled you closer to him and before you knew it, he turned you around so that you were now the one pinned against the door. they caressed your body down to your pussy and you wished you could smack the grin that followed right off his face.

his fingers delved between your folds, spreaded your arousal and made quick work of entering two of them into your wet pussy. your mouth fell open at the intrusion, a small sigh leaving your lips.

"not so mouthy now, hm?" he teased while he pumped his digits into you and stroked the spot that made your hips buck against his hand desperately. charles then brought his thumb onto your clit, drawing small circles over the sensitive nerve bundle.

a moan was torn out of your throat and you felt heat rising to your face at the action, but charles only seemed more turned on at the sound. the noise from the wetness coming from him fingering your pussy was lewd and you prayed nobody would come looking for either of you right now.

he pulled his fingers out of you and shoved them into your mouth, prompting you to suck on them before you grabbed his wrist and tugged them out so you could speak.

"get inside of me already, leclerc." this man was testing your patience a bit too much.

"won't deny that, bellissima," he mumbled under his breath, scooping you up in his arms and lowering you to the floor.

"don't call me that," you said, still breathing heavily from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

you were short of arguing with him to let you on top, but after a long period of about one second of thinking, you decided to just let him be. you could at least give him something to win if it couldn't be the races.

"fuck!" you groaned as charles suddenly bottomed out in you. you felt his girth and length stretching you wide, clenching around him like a vice. while leaving you time to adjust, one of his hands hoisted up your leg over his shoulder, while the other held your waist.

"i would've fucked you the day you entered this building if i knew how good you felt," he admitted, all thoughts of your rivalry and hostility leaving his mind temporarily.

his dirty words turned you on more than they should have. "just get on with it already, for fuck's sake," you hissed.

charles begun rolling his hips into you with controlled, yet fast, movements that left your brain an incomprehensible mess. equally, you felt amazing around him and he was breathless at having you beneath him.

you scratched at his shoulders and back when he took your leg from his shoulder and wrapped it over his hip and leaned down more, allowing him to rub his dick against your sweet spot repeatedly. your moans carelessly echoed through the small room, followed by his quieter ones.

charles pulled out to leave only the tip in, rolling his hips fullt into you again in a rough motion before he set a fast pace, thrusting into you. you were both moaning and the sight of where you connected, your arousal glistening on his cock, only served to amplify those sounds.

"you like the way i make you feel, don't you?" you teased in what was hopefully a seductive tone as you tried to not fall apart instantly at the seemingly boundless pleasure. "i bet you love how wet i am, huh?"

you swore he let out a small whine at that, the grip on your hip tightening even more. he gave a particularly harsh thrust, which made him brush up against your sweet spot again, and your mouth opened in a choked moan.

"fuck－ oh my god, charles," you moaned and the monagasque's rhythm faltered at the way you used his first name and not just the cold, insulting 'leclerc' he was so used to hearing.

charles dragged his tongue over your tits to your throat, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. your heel dug into his lower back, urging him further inside of you while sucking a hickey next to his adam's apple. he leaned back over you once again, effectively trapping your head between his forearms, and resumed your makeout session.

he balanced himself on one arm when one of his hands came down to your swollen clit, precisely rubbing circles around it at just the right pressure that had you keening.

"oh fuck," he groaned when he disconnected your lips from each other, getting lost in the feeling of your warm, wet pussy clenching around him.

you felt the coil in your belly winding around itself, sending searing warmth throughout the entirety of your body. "shit, i'm close," you whispered, but due to your close proximity, he heard you.

"merde, me too," he choked out with a groan.

before you could properly register it, your orgasms simultaneously washed over you in relentless waves. your toes curled and your thighs shook as charles pushed himself into you as deep as he could, spilling inside of you.

your lips connected again, swallowing up your moans, drinking in the image of your bodies, which were now covered in a thin sheen of sweat along with the remnants of your champagne from the podium, one last time. the sounds of your joined breathing and post-orgasmic, blissed out noises resounded in the room.

he pulled out of you and you already felt empty, nothing but filthy thoughts running through your mind at the image of him watching his own cum slowly leak out of you.

"you know, you're not too bad, leclerc," you quipped.

"yeah… you're not too bad either, tesoro."

[troytiwari]

Govardhan Puja (or Annakut Pooja) is celebrated across Bharat (India) and Nepal (which was part of Bharat in ancient times) in commemoration of one of the great leelas of Lord Krishna in his child form. Then, what is the significance and what does it symbolise actually? Let’s have an indepth delving into the whole episode.

2. In retrospect: Govardhan Pooja is performed on the fourth day of Diwali by worshipping the heap of grains which symbolically marks the Govardhan Mountain. In ancient times, it was customary in the Gokulam to perform Yagnas in honour of Lord Indra with whose Grace there were seasonal rainfall due to which the crops yielded good harvest and the people were living in peace and prosperity. Lord Indra became egoistic as he thought that because of him, all the activities are being carried out promptly and regularly. The Lord incarnate thought for a while that unless and until the ego that has sprouted is extirpated, this will cause irreparable damage to the celestials. Usually, one may wonder why even in the celestial world, the ego is prevalent. It is usually not the case; but sometimes, this may give rise to such contretemps.

3. Then, how did Bal Krishna act? As Nandagopa was the Chieftain of Yadava clan, all the elders in Gokul assembled at his Palace for a threadbare discussion on the arrangements that should be put in place. Albeit a child, Krishna, in his anxiety, also was present and wanted to know as to what the important issue they are discussing. As if an ignoramus would question, the omniscient Lord eagerly asked his father as to why this Yajna is being performed and the purpose sought to be achieved therefrom. To this query, Nandagopa addressed his son like this, “Oh: Dear Child, Lord Indra has been made the chieftain of the clouds and at his behest only, we are receiving timely rains and to requite our indebtedness, we’re performing this ritual every year”. Lord Krishna thought for a while and addressed his Father like this, -

Oh! Dear Father, What you say is correct. I agree that Lord Vishnu (Narayana) has made Indra to perform the activities as you’ve narrated. But, why? Think it for a while. Lord Narayana is fond of Brahmins who always tread the path of righteousness (dharmic path) and also the animals especially the cows, etc. Hence, it would be a befitting tribute if we invite the learned pandits and perform Yagnas for the Lord Vishnu. Another factor that should not be lost sight of is to feed the cows to their stomach full. As the forests, trees and the rivers, etc. are the main sources of this, it would behoove us to convey our indebtedness by offering worship to the King of Mountains, forests and the Rivers. When the Child Krishna utters a suggestion, there would be no second word or objection. Hence, it was unanimously decided to act on the suggestion of little Krishna.

4. Was it carried out and the ramifications: Yes. The denizens of Gokul accordingly invited the Learned Brahmins who were well versed in Vedas, got the Yagnas performed, went to the nearby forests and the Rivers and offered their obeisance to them. Finally, they went to the Govardhan Gri (Mountain), offered their worship and returned back to their homes. Krishna then assumed the form of a mountain himself and accepted the villagers' offerings

5. Did that become the finality? No. When Indra saw all that was happening before his eyes, he called for the Clouds (Indra is also called under the sobriquet “Meghraj’] and Lo! there was thunderstorm throughout Gokul and with the alarming proportion of torrential downpour which was never witnessed earlier, the residents of Gokul immediately rushed to Krishna crying out for his succour. Even the cows and their calves were running hither and thither. Little Krishna was cool and composed and advised all the people and their cattle to come to the foothills of the Mountain, Govardhan Giri. The Lord assumed Vrat Roopa without the knowledge of the Yadava clan, who were none other than the incarnations of the celestials, and with no effort, lifted the entire heavy mountain by his little finger of the left hand and held it continuously throughout the days and nights for a week. All the denizens took shelter under its umbrage and there was plenty of food available to them which sustained them without any difficulty.

There was, in fact, terrific thunderstorms accompanied with gale and gusty winds. Due to the structure of Govardhan mountain, there was not even a single drop of rain inside and the water gushed out through the outlets on the mountains. As the Little Krishna was holding tirelessly the mountain for a week, people inside it were not feeling any discomfort and were, indeed, happy and comfortable. See the Lord’s unfathomable compassion!

When the clouds got depleted, the rain stopped instantaneously. The Gokul denizens were very ecstatic and surrounded Little Krishna and showered eulogies on the Lord. Nandagopa was also extremely overwhelmed with joy, now revealed the secret of the Sacred Lord He addressed them and informed them that when the Sage Garg who came for naming ceremony both Lord Krishna and Balaram revealed the secret of incarnation of the Lord. Really they were blessed. Now, Indra realised his folly and even if there were incessant rains for about a year, he cannot succeed in his mission. Wisdom dawned on him.

Now, it was the turn of Lord Indra who was counselled by Lord Brahma, the Creator to approach the Lord and seek his pardon. Indra along with Kamadhenu, the Celestial Cow, proceeded directly to the banks of the Holy Yamuna (Jamuna in North India) River and fell flatly at the lotus feet of the Lord and sought his forgiveness. The all-knowing Lord told Indra that due to the sprouting of ego which will, if not nipped in the bud, may ultimately lead to his downfall, he had to intervene and make him realise his folly; but the moment the ego was rooted out, he has become dear to the Lord.

Indra now wanted to make amends for his action and, therefore, made a supplication to the Lord that He should accept the title of “Lord of the Lords” (Devathi Deva). Krishna, with an inscrutable smile, now told Indra that if at all he wanted the title, let it be so; but, he never aspired for that. Indra, having been immensely pleased, now milked the teats of Milch Cow, Kamadhenu and along with the waters from various holy Rivers bathed the Lord with the same when there was a great assemblage of Kinnaras, Saaranaas and Gandharvas. There was a beautiful mellifluous musical concert by the Vidyadharas. Indra paid rich encomia on the Lord with the names of Govinda, Madhava, Narayana and Krishna. Thereafter, with a satisfied heart, Indra returned to his Amaravathi. Lord Krishna with Balarama returned to Ayarpadi.

Do you know? Even the Creator, Lord Brahma, was no exception to the leelas of Lord Vishnu. Once it so happened that Brahma, through his Maya, hid all the cows and cattle in a very gargantuan cave in the forest where they were grazing. The colleagues and the cowherd yadava boys were playing in the sand dune and when time was ripe for driving them home, one of them went in search of the cattle; but in vain. He promptly reported to Little Krishna who went in search of them but returned empty handed. To his astonishment, even his friends had vanished. For a moment, he thought that this act is not of human nature; but of divine celestial. He, in a trice, came to know that this is Lord Brahma’s mischief. He never went to him; but on the contrary, created through his Maya the same cattle – both cows and calves as well as cowherd colleagues. Everyone went home and this continued for about a year. No one noticed the difference nor were they worried about the missing cows or their sons as they were now with them through the illusion of Little Krishna.

When a year was drawing to a close, Brahma wanted to know what was going on in Gokul. To his amazement, he could not believe his own eyes. Everything was as usual and there were cows and calves. He immediately rushed to the cave where he hid the boys and the cattle. Everything was in tact. He rushed to Gokul and fell at the Lotus Feet of the Lord and addressed him thus, :Oh! Lord! When I was created through your navel cord, I could not see you. Now, I realise that you are the Supreme Lord and I have committed a blunder by hiding your cattle and companions. Oh! It’s my folly! Please forgive me.: So saying, he handed over the cattle and his companions. The cowherd boys were unaware that they were in the cave for about a year. Little Krishna made his Maya disappear and also forgave the Creator.

Okay Well explained. Now, I have a lingering doubt. Why is it called Annakut Pooja? Please listen. I’ll explain now.

Devotees prepare varieties of foodstuffs with grain and ghee and all kinds of milk preparations. The food is stacked like a small hill and offered to the Lord. Then it is distributed to everyone as prasadam. Hence, this festival is also called the Annakut Festival.

Annakut is celebrated on the fourth day of Diwali. Therefore, the rituals surrounding Annakut are closely linked with the rituals of the five days of Diwali. While the first three days of Diwali are days of prayer to sanctify wealth and invite greater wealth into the devotee's life, the annakut day is a day of offering gratitude for Krishna beneficence

Is the Govardhan Puja part of Annakut festival?

Govardhan Puja is a principal ritual performed during Annakut. Although some texts treat Govardhan Puja and Annakut as synonymous, the Govardhan Puja is one segment of the day-long Annakut festival.

Krishna spent most of his childhood in Braj, a place devotees associate with many of Krishna's divine and heroic exploits with his childhood friends. One of the most significant incidents, described in the Bhagavata involves Krishna lifting Mount Govardhan (Govardhan Hill), a low hill situated in the middle of Braj Govardhan has since become a major pilgrimage site in Braj for devotees of Krishna. On the day of Annakut, devotees circumambulate the hill and offer food to the mountain—one of the oldest rituals in Braj. The circumambulation consists of an eleven-mile trek dotted along the way with several shrines, before which devotees place flowers and other offerings.

Families create an image of Giriraj Govardhan (the mountain) from cow dung, adorning it with miniature cow figures as well as grass as twigs, representing trees and greenery. In the days leading up to Annakut, fifty-six food items (chappan bhog) are typically prepared and offered in the evening. Someone from a cow-herding caste officiates the ritual, circling the hill with a cow and a bull, followed by families in the village. They partake in the sanctified food after offering the food to the hill. The festival often draws a large crowd, including the Chaube Brahmins of Mathura.

Krishna holding the Govardhan, a historic legend is depicted in many major Hindu temples complexes. This panel is from the Hoysaleswara temple, Halebidu Karnataka (c. 1150 CE). The stone block was carved to show the Krishna legend, and Indra behind it.

Several thousand years later, on this same day, Srila Madhavendra Puri established a temple for the self-manifest Gopala Deity on top of Govardhan Hill.

Shubh Govardhan Puja 🙏🏻 Shubh Nava Saal🙏🏻✨

[earnestly-endlessly]

I was wondering if you know any Cherik fics where they're dating but it's w different people's pov? Or where people don't believe that they are together. They're not rude but they're just sceptical yk. Where they don't believe that one of them has a partner.

Thanks for the ask anon. I have to say that outsider POV is such a guilty pleasure of mine. There are some great fics out there that match your description. There are also a few fics that kind of match your description but deviate a bit from your request. I still think they fit the theme. I hope you enjoy!

Outsider POV - Don’t know that they are in a relationship

Work/Life Balance - pocky_slash

Summary: As teens, Charles was the star of a super popular tween/teen television show and Erik was his best friend. As adults, they're a frighteningly domestic married couple and Alex, Darwin, and Sean are Erik's nosy co-workers.

Rumor Mill - ikeracity

Summary:  Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Twice as Blind - Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

For Argument’s Sake - Darksknight

Summary: The 'Science Wing Fights' are infamous, mostly because it's exciting to see two teachers really have it out, partially because Charles and Erik have the most intense and interesting fights any college student can dream of. So maybe a rumor or two get spread around to start the fights off, maybe someone mentions a hicky or the possibility of Charles seeing someone, but it's not like anyone's trying to instigate anything. Expect Raven. Raven will always instigate things.

Bang! A boomerang is love! – magichistorian

Summary: Everyone knew Mr. Xavier and Mr. Lehnsherr hated each other's guts.

Right?

Sugar Honey – IreneADonovan

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is the new Senior VP in Stark Industries Engineering Division. He's a bastard to everybody, and everyone pities the pool fool who's married to him, whoever he/she may be. Until they meet him. Then they all jump to erroneous conclusions as to why he took the position at SI. Tony Stark eventually sets them straight. After he busts a gut laughing, that is.

I Heard a Rumor (the Miss Jones Syndrome Remix) – iberiandoctor

Summary: A ring appears on Professor Charles Xavier's finger. The student body at the University of Utopia embarks on a mission to find its source, and makes an unexpected discovery.

X-Men Apocalypse's 1980s-era powered universe in which the name of the school is more than wishful thinking, at least on mutant-friendly Genosha. Charles Xavier is a genetics professor at the University of Utopia; Emma Frost and Tony Stark are his best friends; Charles’s students are extremely nosy and think they know it all. Erik Lehnsherr is… not what you'd expect.

Erik’s Fake Boyfriend - KatSquared

Summary: Emma Frost had her sights set on Erik Lehnsherr, and so did half the campus. However, he made it a point to reject everyone who’s asked him out, and it seemed the man had a “boyfriend” that no one’s ever seen.

Gossip makes the workplace go’round - ximeria

Summary: Apparently if Erik is in a good mood, his employees have to ponder how that may have come to be. Their ideas are, however, wildly off the mark.

Prom Kings - Project896

Summary: "now that you've mentioned it, Im actually curious." Angel whispers so that Mr. Xavier won't have to give them his sad puppy eyes to get them back to reading their books.

"Yeah, he's been wearing that ring since he moved here last year, who do you think his wife is?" Raven glances up to make sure Mr. Xavier is still busy helping Sean understand the story, while doing so, she eyed the golden ring on his ring finger.

Bang! A boomerang is love! - magichistorian

Summary: Everyone knew Mr. Xavier and Mr. Lehnsherr hated each other's guts.

Right?

JJ´s Round-the-Clock Breakfast Bounty Platter - pocky_slash

Summary: Ron makes a friend. As if that's not weird enough on its own, Leslie's pretty sure he's in the mob. (Also, Charles is charming and Erik is the opposite of that.)

In Plain Sight - archipelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: A story where Charles and Erik have basically been together from the first time they met. The whole fate, wow we found each other thing. Now I would like the others not to know and try to bring the two 'oblivious' guys together. They of course enjoy this quite a lot.

Nevermore - amarriageoftrueminds

Summary: [Missing scene] This is what should have happened after Raven and Charles' contretemps in the kitchen.

I Did Not Just See You Kissing Magneto - swoopswoop

Summary: Alex spots Charles and Erik sharing a kiss while a building is collapsed around them before the latter runs off with the Professor.

Or Erik gets bored and so kidnaps Charles.

The Bitter Consequences - swoopswoop

Summary: It was all an accident, they never meant for the other's to find out. Of course, when they did, there was nothing left but to face the music.

Santa’s Helper (The Santa’s Secret Remix) - traumaschwinge

Summary: Raven loves her idiot brother dearly. She wants him to be happy, honest. It's just really hard sometimes when he acts like a teenager instead of a full grown adult.

Or: Raven watches Erik and Charles dance around their crush on each other until she snaps.

A Job Well Done – grim_lupine

Summary: Raven can safely say that when she met Erik in junior year, she didn’t expect she’d ever be having this conversation.

Who’d have thunk? - ximeria

Summary: While everyone knows that Charles and Erik can be a bad influence on each other, there are other sides to their, at times, insane relationship.

Everything Hits at Once - afrocurl

Summary: David's relationship with Charles is tenuous at best, but coming to watch the launch of Cerebro can't be a good idea. Can it?

For the Record - endingthemes

Summary: As prominent figures in the mutant rights movement, activists Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are pretty much household names. When a romance scandal between them breaks, their celebrity reaches new heights, and though the increased exposure is great, there’s a big problem -- the two of them are just friends.

Too bad no one believes them.

Note: Technically not an outsider’s POV but everyone is wondering about their relationship and it’s just one of my faves.

[deathinfeathers]

That's it? The great, big revelation she'd hinged her hopes on—the disclosure that was supposed to salve this ache of betrayal? Of course the folly lies with her, for beguiling herself through baseless wishful thinking, into believing there might be some chance that he'd have something meaningful to say. This pathetic, sniveling boy in the illusory shape of a man—always bewailing his lot in life. Throwing tantrums, making messes she'd have no choice but to painstakingly scrub away with bruises on her knees and blisters in her palms that refuse to heal because he never, never learns. All of this she could reconcile, as a matter of course—it is what she has been doing, every day for the last millenia; choke down his imperfections, dress him up in cotton, shield him from having to face the repercussions of his shitty fucking actions full force. Even now, if such a thing were within her power, she would love nothing more than to fix this for him. Draw the curtains on another enervating contretemps, crawl into bed and comb her fingers through his messy, brown hair until he falls asleep.

It's alright.

Tomorrow is another day.

A better one.

We'll be alright.

We'll always be.

You and me.

Us.

We.

She could reconcile her meaningless existance, being the butt of a joke that was set into motion thousands of years before the little sliver of the almighty which she embodies gained cognizance. But then, he speaks of family—no, not even of family, he simply utters the word, and something in her, some integral ligature securing all the fraying threads of her meticulously maintained equilibrium, snaps. And the weight of the mental bulwark keeping the wildfire of her emotions in moderate check comes down with such force she cannot help but lurch forward, hands on her knees as she horks up a wheeze of a breath which soon melds into howling, unhinged, maniacal laughter.

"HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

It isn't long before the uncontrollable convulsions racking the corvid's body like a leaf in a salty seaside storm forces her to the ground, where she proceeds to pound a fist into the floorboards until the wood splinters and cracks beneath the heel of her palm.

"Haaaah...hahaha! Oh...otsar....You REALIZE this whoooole fucking thing has almost DEFINITELY made their lives ten times as miserable as they were BEFORE you started a murder cult? You understand that? I'm willing to bet they had it pretty fucking good, even! The fact that this place is so inhospitable is, in a big way, a direct consequence OF the FUCKING PURGE THAT !!!YOU!!! STARTED YOU BLITHERING! GODDAMNED! MORON!!!! RAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!!"

A final, pitiful thump of loosely curled digits into the crater she has viciously pounded through the boards, and sluggishly, she rolls to the side to lay on her back. Hand full of needle-esque pieces of plywood skims the bridge of pallid features, inadvertently smearing trails of ichor contained within along the stark white canvas. Another bitter laugh bubbles up her throat, long and breathy, zapped of all vigor, but not of vitriol.

"Hah......I loved you, you know? Loved you so much it hurt, sometimes, just to look at you. Because it felt unfair, for something so beautiful and unique to be confined to such an achingly quotidian landscape. I could see that you were miserable and I wanted to change that so, so bad...god, I wanted to protect you...from the ill-informed opinions of others. From your shitty, self-destructive habits. I would have killed anybody who had the gall to touch you or look at you or think about you with anything but pure veneration, if they wouldn't have taken me away for it....

I could have fixed it. If you had just told me, I could have fixed it....I don't know how, but I would have done it for you....Se agapó, Adam...allá den xéro pós na se prostatépso pia...i don't know...i don't know..."

Gold whisked away with morose, translucent beads leaves ephemeral veining in the marble of her face, stripes which stretch from eyes to ears, where the tears fall and get lost, somewhere in the limp coils of her hair.

"I wish you would have told me..."

@deathinfeathers xxx

Yeah, he'd made it easy to forget the kind of damage he could do with that vitriolic, venom sodden tongue of his. The last handful of months they'd spent together had been relatively friction free, as far as their personal relations went anyhow. Textbook honeymoon bliss, she supposes. And it's funny, actually, because nothing really changed to warrant such a peaceable lull. They'd lived their lives like conjoined twins for hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of years. They shared a profound familiarity, the kind that allowed them to communicate from two different ends of a room full of people without ever mouthing a word. She could gauge his state of mind at any given moment by the tempo of his breathing, the lilt of his voice, the trajectory of his gaze. They lived together, slept, ate, bathed, laughed, cried and screamed together and They'd plumbed the niches and the hollows of each other's bodies so thoroughly there did not exist a square inch of his flesh that she had not pampered, with her hands, her lips, her tongue.

And yet, in spite of this, there was an uncertainty which hung over them like a suffocating mist. Maybe it was because nothing in this world had ever belonged to her and the things that had belonged to him were always swept away by the tide of time, or the whims of cruel creators. All it took was a promise. Nothing really changed—but it did. She felt secure. Perhaps for the first time in her life.

All it took was a lie.

And now she has to decide how much that lie devalues their promise.

"Why even scratch at it at all? Are you fucking serious right now, Adam? You're dreaming if you think I'm going to let you sweep this shit under the rug!? I have turned a blind eye to a great many of your irresponsible, half-baked antics throughout the centuries but this is where I draw the line! If what we had was anything more than a masturbatory endeavor on your part to balm the aches of your GARGANTUAN goddamned inferiority complex you are going to wrangle your head out of your ass right this fucking second and explain to me—"

The tirade peters out in the face of this sudden and quite frankly alarming surge of aggression. Aggression which twists his warped but still familiar features into something barely recognizable. She knows what he is trying to do, of course. A year in his absence has not made him any less predictable. He wants her gone so that he won't have to face the repercussions of his actions, so that he can keep wallowing and gorging himself on fleeting divertisments to keep himself good and numb to the reality of his situation. They have sung this song and danced this dance a thousand times over. If he thinks that he can intimidate her into submission, he's got another thing coming.

Another thing taking the form of a deeply unimpressed glower.

"...I'm looking."

There is grief there, too. Veiled thinly behind the umbrage.

There is grief there, too. Veiled thinly behind the umbrage.

"I see you."

"Always have."

The good. The bad. The ugly. It didn't change a thing. She was so irrevocably his.

Is this what she wants?

Yes, in fact.

This is the only thing she has ever wanted. For him to stop trying so desperately to convince her that he is something he is not. To let himself be unabashedly flawed and let her adore him all the same.

She might have looked back on the past six months of their ongoing 'situationship turned possessive' and thought nothing warranted the shift from cackling about how many chicks or dicks she took home and railed as opposed to his outstanding first man record, but it wasn't like she was aware of all his dirty, unaired secrets. Heaven had hurt him, sure. Strung him along like the puppet for humanity he was destined to be. Promised carrots - delivered sticks, and cared little for the brash bleat of a black sheep settled among its flock if only because it would serve a purpose. The sheep - to draw predators from the desired livestock. Him? To posture perfection in the picturesque image of the Creator. An image hidden under mask and robes to convince a choir that his crass demeanor was only surface deep and designated to the design he chose.

It stung to see her now- gaze fixed upon him like his own half lidded glare cocked skyward...wondering what all of it was worth in the end. He'd wanted so badly to turn his resentment towards the divine vortex he was caught within at heaven themselves. To show them that he wasn't just a token for breeding them new souls to torture and nothing else. And yet in his haste to do so, he'd become exactly what they determined him to be. Exactly what he strove to struggle against. The Exorcists were tools- a means to an end for him to feel some level of eminence among supposed peers he could never sidle the same pew height with. But he'd grown to care for them... in that stupidly human way that convinced him they were more than heaven's anti virus. In that way that knowing her touch was what he needed to wake up to every morning - guaranteed perfection from heaven be damned...he knew that he'd been what he'd opposed all along. Using them...using her like heaven had used him. Only heaven couldn't come to care for him like he had his girls-...even if he could sense hints of the concern in the corners of the high seraphim's gaze.

It's the pain of realizing he was what he fought all along that helps edge him over. Her vicious remarks don't help- however founded they are. "Then fucking LOOK!" He snarls, agitation whipping with the tempo of his feathered tail as he eyes her down with the dripping menace of a demon discovered against its will. "Look at what I fucking did! I filled hell with my SPAWN- countless centuries. To kill them again - all my mistakes... to feel like I wasn't just some trophy soul to display FOR NO FUCKING REASON while my family BURNED - ! " Despite the increase in his size, he felt small. Looking down at her - trembling with a rage that could decimate all that he applied it to if only it weren't her staring him down.

Despite it all- she knew him. Every gritty corner. Because she was him in a way - facing heaven now with all its expectations of her worth...while knowing it to be a lie. And now she knows - she's looking.

His canines nearly crack with the pressure he grits down on them, lip trembling. He'd shown her the inner most ugly part of him, and yet - ... his gaze clouded. And yet that wasn't the finished product -...the finale. All of what he was and would always be-... Adam.

An harsh snuffle interrupts the intensity between locked gazes. The off golden yolk of a spoiled egg wells in the corners of his eyes as he flashes her his teeth in a last ditch effort to remain relevant. It doesn't work. A wet set of snuffles escapes- his shoulders shuddering with their tempo. This was who he really was...

Adam.

"A-am I... pretty??"