#he will treasure it marianne promise!! he really likes it
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damnedreams · 2 years ago
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marianne hands him a tiny piece of embroidery. it’s a bow with an arrow flying from it in the center, with floral accents around the side. “i-uh, i made this for you.” she had the idea, so she did it. which was kinda new for her. “only if you want it though!” / for claude
PROMPT: INBOX CALL / @forfodlan
He's settled in the dinning room with a book and a warm plate of dinner. While in the midst of turning the page, Marianne's soft voice breaks his focus. Quickly finishing the sentence he's on, his finger slides down keep his place in case it's a quick conversation.
Claude turns his attention toward her and raises a curious brow.
"You made it for me?" He repeats with surprise coloring his tone. Bending the corner of his current page, he closes the book to place his full attention on his comrade. Reaching for the embroidery he takes it in his hands, careful and gentle. Silence falls between them as he inspects the needlework.
After a minute or so the corner of his mouth quirks into a half-smile. Green eyes shine with gratitude as he meets Marianne's eyes.
"Thank you Marianne. This is very kind of you, I'll definitely keep it somewhere safe." His fingers run over the floral patterns on the edge before settling on the arrow in the middle. A tribute to his choice of weapon. It's a kind gift, and one of the few he's received since moving to Fódlan.
Unable to help himself, he can't help but ask in a teasing tone. "Are you making one for everyone in our house, or am I a special case?"
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airi-p4 · 3 years ago
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Ice Dreams - Chapter 1
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...
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Lukanette Figure Skating AU? Lukanette Figure Skating AU.
I’ve been planning this for more than one year already ( @mamanabeille​ knows ) but Freya’s recent art for me fueled me to finish the first 2 chapters (out of more than 60...)
Header art is traditional art drawn by me about one year ago - Full pic HERE.
Summary
Despite being very talented and loving to skate, Marinette is determined to quit Figure Skating after the lack of decent results and the great amount of stress and pressure on her shoulders.
On the other hand, Juleka and Luka are average skaters in pairs category who, after years of hard work, have finally started showing some good results. But suddenly, Juleka is forced to retire, leaving Luka at the verge of retirement because of his need for a partner.
Can Juleka convince Luka and Marinette to give figure skating a second chance? Can they form a bond strong enough to reach the top and accomplish their dreams? Could something more than partnership spark between them?
AO3
________________________________
CHAPTER 1: Marinette
Figure skating can appeal to people for many reasons: the competitive part, the artistry, the music arrangements, the performances…
For Marinette figure skating was everything- her whole life.
When she was happy, she would love to skate. When she was sad, skating never failed to cheer her up. She was athletic, flexible and talented, gifted by both technique and artistry, as well as tenacity to work hard and never give up. Skating was an irreplaceable part of her life.
WAS.
In past tense.
Because even when it’s pleasant to watch the beautiful programs the skaters have to offer, there’s something that never changes during competitions: the scores are what really matter. Fail one element and you're screwed. Keep the program perfect but with minimum difficulty, you're off the podium. Do perfect in practice but fail in front of the judges: it's over.
This was Marinette's case.
Recently, consistency always failed her in competitions, and it had been a letdown to see how the past seasons had been going blank for her, without any outstanding accomplishment, despite her being on top almost all of her childhood. Her effort, and full potential didn’t show off on her competition results.
Marinette's parents and her coach, Miss Bustier, associated her disappointing results to her mentor’s and grandmother’s passing. But Marinette was well aware that the main reason behind her failures wasn't only how much she missed her granny; the real cause had a girl’s name: Lila Rossi.
It had already been 2 years since Lila joined her training classes under Miss Bustier's teachings. And everything had gone downhill after that.
It's not that she hadn't already been enduring bullying from Chloe Bourgeois, but Lila's bullying was at a whole different level.
The pressure, the expectations, the stress, the bullying, the injuries and damaged property, the struggle her parents went through to pay for her classes and competitions, how she had to sew her own dresses because she didn’t have the money to buy them, how she almost had no friends left... Everything piled up for years and made her finally crumble. Her skating consistency was affected and led only to constant failure.
In the end, she was exhausted, and no matter how much she loved ice skating, she reached her limit. She surpassed her limit.
Lila Rossi had won.
For two weeks now, since her last failure at a National Competition, Marinette had been skipping her skating classes. Coach Bustier was always exceptionally kind to her, and had been considerate (in her own way) this time as well, suggesting she take a few days to rest and get back again when she felt confident again.
But Marinette didn't intend to return under her coaching. Instead, she had set her mind to resign from her classes and, probably, even quit figure skating too.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
The most talented skater of the decade was seriously considering quitting skating for good. And it made her sad, but she couldn’t see any other way out of the spiral of failures she was caught in. No one was there to get her out of the dark hole she was buried in.
She certainly didn’t expect a second chance in figure skating.
_________________________________
During the days she didn't go to her classes, Marinette always spent her time at the Miraculous Ice Skate Rink, where her 'grandfather', Master Wang Fu worked as a manager, taking care of the installation and the opening and shutting down hours, along with the material to rent and the tickets for open to public times. Being her mother’s uncle, she had been babysat by him and his wife since she was a little kid. It was, in fact, Marianne Lenoir, was the one who taught Marinette the skating basics and the one who made her start practicing and love figure skating since she was 3 years old.
Marinette loved her grandparents a lot, and the passing of Miss Lenoir still pained her everyday. After her tragic loss, they became even closer, especially when Master Fu gave Marinette his late wife's earrings as a memento - he knew she would have given them to her at some point, since she loved the dark-haired girl a lot. And with no children on their own, Marinette was the closest they had to a daughter or granddaughter. Marinette had promised to treasure the earrings. They had a ladybug’s design engraved on them, only visible when light illuminated themfrom a certain angle. They were very mysterious and unique, and Marinette had loved them since her eyes had fallen on them. After becoming their owner, not even once she took them off. She felt the luck on her side as long as she wore them.
Except, that wasn’t the case anymore.
Marinette had her own theory of how Lila might have corrupted them when she touched them once, since all her luck was now gone from her side from that moment onwards.
On the ice, Marinette skated a little. But when she attempted to jump, a memory of her last competition crossed her mind and she fell down. Instead of standing up like always, she stayed seated on the floor, tears falling down her cheeks.
"Marinette! Are you ok? Did you get hurt?" asked Fu, worried. Rushing (as much as his old legs allowed him to) to aid her.
"Master-! I- I-... I can't skate anymore!" She broke down to cry even harder.
"That's not true, Marinette. You're just feeling discouraged now because of your recent results in competition. It's normal to feel like that. It will be ok"
"No Master…  It's not just competitions… It's everything… Lila, Chloe, my coach, my parents, my friends…and I miss Granny Marianne so much... I'll never be able to follow her steps now… I should just be realistic and give up..."
"Don't say that, dear. You have luck on your side. Like a ladybug. Lady Chance. You are talented enough to overcome this. I’m sure Marianne would be proud of you, even if you don't follow her steps. And you know? There's no need to compete if you don't feel like doing it. Many people just skate for fun or minor competitions. I’m sure the future has good things prepared for you. You just need to keep moving and you’ll find the right path to follow. And whatever you choose to do, we'll be proud of you. The doors to this ice rink are open for you to come whenever you want to"
That's right. She could skate without competitions. She could focus on something else and have skating as a hobby. Maybe she could make a living out of a figure skating outfit designer…
It was settled. She was quitting. And she was telling her parents tonight.
"Thank you, Master. I know what I want to do now" she answered, giving him a heartfelt hug. Fu smiled at her and patted her back a little, happy to see her smile was back on her face and how his granddaughter's tears had finally stopped.
___________________________
Marinette was very nervous when she arrived home. She tried to sneak to her room without being noticed, but her mother had been waiting for her, with a deeply worried expression on her face. Marinette gulped. 'She has probably found out I've been skipping my classes' she thought, but her mother's mind was focused on something else- more serious. Something the girl didn’t expect or could have imagined.
“Marinette. Calm down and listen to me. Are you still friends with Juleka?”
Marinette blinked: that was not the question she expected. She sighed before answering, confused about her mother’s unusual distress.
“Yes, mom. It’s been a long while since we’ve last seen or talked to each other, but she is my friend”. She paused for a second. “Why do you ask? You’re scaring me...”
Sabine Cheng took a deep breath before answering “Marinette… Juleka is at the hospital”.
Marinette’s mother’s grip on her shoulders wasn’t strong enough to keep the girl from jumping in shock, neither stopped her from panicking a second later.
“What!? What happened to her!? Is she ok!?”
“Calm down, Marinette. She’s ok. She just fainted. She…” Sabine paused, hesitating, before continuing with the explanation. “She’s been diagnosed with an eating disorder”
Marinette felt a rush of mixed feelings forming inside of her: but between sadness and worrisome, anger was the first emotion to come out of her body.
“No…! No way! I’m sure it’s all Chloé’s fault! She used to make mean comments about her body since we were little. Her ideas must have grown bigger in Juleka’s mind! Just because she was taller and larger than many of us…! And now Juleka is…! Juleka is…!”
The spiral of emotions she was feeling ended up falling in the form of tears, again, in a crying whimper. Sabine, worried for her daughter, cupped her cheek and let her cry until she calmed down a little. It was not easy for her to wait patiently to ask her what she had really wanted to know after she had heard about Juleka’s condition, but she knew the girl needed to let it out, even if it hurt her to see her daughter crying like that. It almost felt like there was something more behind the salty water spilling from her eyes, but she remained silent until her sobbing sounds ended, being engulfed by the silence of the living room. When the wait finally was over, Sabine Cheng spoke again, looking straight to her eyes.
“Marinette, I need to ask you something. And please, be honest with me" Marinette gulped and nervously nodded. "Are you eating properly? You’re not throwing it out, aren’t you? I know you’ve always been thin, but I can’t help it but worry about you… You know how common eating disorders are in figure skating… And with what happened to Juleka and how discouraged you look recently…”
Marinette tensed at her mother’s question, more offended than shocked. “Of course not, maman! I’m properly eating what you put on my plate! I would never waste what it takes you so much work. I’m grateful I always have freshly baked bread on my plate”
Marinette’s mother relaxed at her daughter's answer, hugging her.
“Good. That’s good. I’m so glad. So relieved. Thank you, Marinette”. She spoke again after breaking the hug. “I think you should pay Juleka a visit. Here’s the room number and the hospital address. You should be there for her”
“Thank you for telling me, maman. I’ll visit her tomorrow morning”, the girl said, grabbing the paper with Juleka’s hospital contact from her mother’s hand.
“Good girl. I’m proud of you”
“Thank you, maman…” the twin-tailed girl managed to answer, feeling both happy and nauseous for the trust in her mother’s eyes. The thought of seeing disappointment on her parents' face terrified her.
‘No… I definitely can’t tell my parents yet…’ she thought.
_______________________
When Marinette arrived at Juleka's hospital room, she wasn't alone. The door was partially opened and she saw a blue-haired boy standing beside her. As soon as she knocked on the door, the boy noticed her and approached, with an interrogative and sad expression on his face. He was handsome despite his sad expression, Marinette thought, distracted for a second.
"I- I'm- Juleka...?" She managed to say, and the boy just nodded.
“Juleka, you have a visitor. I’ll let you two talk privately" he said, turning his head to the girl in the bed. "Thank you for coming,” he solemnly told Marinette before leaving the room.
“Thank you” she said when getting inside, without looking at him.
It had been a while since Marinette had talked to Juleka. It had been more difficult to keep in touch after she switched to pairs skating some years ago, even if they still exchanged messages and hung out together sometimes.
“Juleka, how are you? I heard you fainted and…” Her feet moved slowly towards her friend as she greeted her, but she gasped when she saw her figure: she couldn't be healthy looking the way she did.
“Marinette. Thanks for coming” Juleka weakly smiled.
“Juleka, look at you! You look so skinny! You have to eat! You shouldn’t listen to what people or magazines say, it’s dangerous! You need to be healthy.”
“I am healthy" she assured her, but Marinette's worried eyes made her admit her problem. "But… you’re right. There’s no need for me to keep throwing out my food. I’m retiring from figure skating”
"What?" Marinette gasped, and Juleka reaffirmed her words with a nod. “Oh no, Juleka! I know you loved it… I’m so sorry for you…” The baker's daughter sympathized.
“It’s Ok, Marinette. Thank you… I’m actually more worried about my brother. We were a team and now his dream is crushed because of me… He can’t compete without a partner and… I’ve wasted everything…”
“Oh, Juleka…”, she warmly hugged her friend.
Not wanting to talk more about her eating disorder, Juleka asked Marinette a question.
“What about you, Marinette? How are things going? Are you getting closer to your dream? You were always first place no matter what! I bet you’ve been improving and setting even higher scores by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could even land a triple axel!”
“I can land it, actually! It’s just… for some reason I can’t seem to land any of my jumps lately during competitions… I keep failing over and over… and then there’s Chloé and Lila… You know… I’m thinking of quitting…” she said in a sigh.
“Oh no, Marinette! You can’t quit! You are the most skilled and talented skater I’ve ever seen. Your scores as a child were in another league! You are bound to make history in figure skating, I know you do. You can’t quit!”
“It’s not a matter of skill anymore, Juleka… It’s a matter of results and wasted effort. I just… I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep my parents overworking to pay for my skating classes with me failing every single jump in competition. I can’t look at their disappointed looks every time I fail their expectations. And Lila’s bullying only keeps escalating while my coach never believes anything I say… I’m not motivated anymore. I don’t have the strength to keep trying...”
Marinette looked devastated as she spoke. Quitting figure skating couldn't make her happy. Juleka knew she would be feeling even worse than herself. She didn't like to see her friend like that.
“Are you sure, Marinette? Because I think it’s a waste. You could win an Olympic gold medal if you aimed for it. It’s just… so frustrating…”
“Juleka…”
After a long silence, Juleka set her determination and faced a surprised Marinette with a serious look on her eyes.
“No. Marinette, I can’t let you quit like that! Look at me. I’ve been forced to quit because of my condition. I wanted to keep skating! I didn’t want to stop! And yet… you say you want to quit. My brother says he wants to quit. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? You have no consideration for me or for yourselves!" She yelled and then paused to take a deep breath. "Marinette, look at my face and tell me again you want to quit! Can you do it?”
“I-... I want to… " Marinette paused, unable to lie. "I want to keep skating!" She finally admitted. "But I can’t anymore, Juleka! I’ve tried to endure it, I’ve tried so hard! And yet… Nothing! It’s just useless. What’s the point when I’m starting to feel that skating is not fun anymore?”
“Oh no, Marinette, you can’t say that! You can’t give up your dream so easily. Who was that skater you admired? Your grandmother? Miss Lenoir? You dreamed of being like her someday! Graceful, elegant yet strong; sliding on the ice like if you were an angel coming from heaven, announcing salvation to all the graceful public crying tears of joy at your beautiful movements. I know you can do it, Marinette. You just need something or someone to…" Juleka paused for a moment. "Wait, I… I have an idea. Why don’t you try pairs skating for a while?”
Marinette was taken aback at her friend's suggestion.
“What? What are you talking about? I told you I want to… to quit…”
“No. Listen to me. You just need to try it out. You try, and I won’t oppose you quitting if you decide to do so after you’ve tried it out.”
“What’s the deal…?”, Marinette said, unconvinced.
“I want you to take my place. I want you and my brother to help each other recover your motivation, your goals, your dreams. We just got a decent score for international competitions and I… I messed up. He did his best and improved a lot. He could score high, to the top maybe, with the right partner… and I think you’re a better fit partner than I could ever be” she said in a weak sigh.
“But- I don’t even know your brother. And I’ve never done pair skating before! And most importantly- there’s no way I could fill in your place! Nobody can! I'm sure you’re important for your brother, and he doesn’t even know me! He won’t want me to pair with him anyway” Marinette protested.
“That’s my part. I’ll convince him to give you a chance. So I need you to give pairs skating a chance, too. You both still have a second chance in figure skating. And I bet you can reach the top in a few years'', Juleka smiled. Her eyes showed conviction in her words, but Marinette had doubts.
“Are you sure he-?” she started, but Juleka cut her, knowing how the question ended.
“I’m sure. Just give it a try. For me. For our friendship. I want you to skate on my behalf. Please... I’m begging you, Marinette. Just one week. One more chance. I’m sure you won’t regret it. No, I promise you won’t”
“Ok, Juleka… I’ll do it. Just one try. No more. I’m quitting if I can’t keep it up. Or if your brother doesn’t like me…”
“He’ll like you. He just needs to meet you.” she smiled in reassurance and Marinette hugged her.
Marinette, noticing the time, broke the hug and spoke again. "I have to go now, but I’ll come again next week. Get well soon, please”
“Thank you, Marinette. For coming and for accepting my selfish request. I’ll send you a message later.”
“Of course, you are still my dear friend, Juleka. Get well soon, ok?”
“I’ll try… Thank you for coming”, she answered, waving her goodbye. ‘Now I need to convince Luka…' she thought, eyeing her friend crossing through the door.
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imnotwolverine · 4 years ago
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The marriage pact - A Bird’s Life
Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter
< Part 18 | Part 19 A Bird’s Life | Part 20 >
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Disclaimer: Some strong language
Author’s note: I hope you can survive my attempt at writing poetry.🤓
Word count: 1.475
(Link to my Masterlist)
Dear readers,
When I was young my school reports always had one and the same comment; “Alice should try to get a bit more out of her shell”. I was simply said the shy kid, the nerdy girl, the one who always got the good grades and didn’t want to upset anyone. For the longest time I always put everyone before me. I was the giver, not the receiver, of attention and whenever someone wished to give me that attention, be it as a friend or lover, I pushed them away. I just didn’t know how to cope.
And even now after all these years it still, at times, makes me feel a little weirded out. I do not like to be the centre of attention. Not even when it’s the attention of just one person. Why I exactly feel like that, I don’t know. Is it a form of self protection? Building up walls? Perhaps. In any way, I will have to deal with it. Because me and chocolate cake are getting pretty serious about a lot of things. Adult things.
It happens to just be so that part of these adult things is caring for each other in equal measure. Being there for one another. Letting lust and demand grow into love and care. Or, as U.A. Fanthorpe lovingly described it in her poem Atlas; “There is a kind of love, called maintenance.”
And I, dear readers, want that maintenance kind of love, I do.
Ali
‘I didn’t know you read poetry.’ Henry said, your bodies huddled close together in the mid December wind. It was a small but unfortunate side effect of living near the sea; it seemed to always be windy. And in winter, that gave you a whole new sense of “fuck it’s cold”. I shivered into his chest, watching Kal zoom through the bushes like it was just another fine summers day.
‘Every now and then. It’s a bit of a left over habit from college.’
’Twas a nice poem. The whole collection of poems on that website actually.’ He smiled. ‘You read them all?’ I raised an eyebrow and looked up at his now outgrowing beard. Henry was growing a beard and I did not mind it one bit - it made me feel all kinds of literal and figurative tingles. He snickered. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Henry the poetry man! Makes me wonder actually. You are good with words, but do you ever write yourself?’ I looked back at the stone cobbled path ahead of us, our booted feet tapping in joined rhythm on the cold rock. I really, really enjoyed our walks together and from the fact Henry always near forced me to join him for his walks no matter how bad the weather, I derived he did so too.
‘Perhaps.’ He finally said, earning a inquisitive eyebrow raise from me. ‘Perhaps? Mr. Cavill, please do not dare and keep secrets from me!’ I prodded him in his side and he chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t dare. I just hadn’t ..come around to sharing it with you yet.’
‘Sounds like a secret to me.’ I laughed, seeing Kal had found himself a nice stick. ‘Oh Kal bear! At least you keep no secrets huh?’ I ruffled my fingers through his fur when he came to present his new found treasure to us, Henry’s hand near automatically taking it from the friendly Akita to throw it a bit further down the road, for the dog to fetch.
‘Okay. Something I wrote a while ago..don’t judge me though. It’s..-‘ ‘A secret.’ I squeezed my lips tight as if promising to keep my lips shut from here on. He sniffled. ‘Something like that.’
Clearing his throat and gazing out over the wintery landscape, he started:
‘A bird’s life
Before their singing rings I wake, an early riser Come morning do I take On the day, again a little whiter
Striding feet I follow Black and white, his beard too grey I hear my mothers voice speak again Do your duty come what may
But as I follow my winged friends Around the world I sink Dragging feet that stall and linger Not always can this be so, I think
My nests though many Are fewer my home My coffins are filled With gold silver and woe
As days then end I reach Yet another homeless nest Its branches prickle and when I look Hours more not to rest
Sun rises burning and Sore feet hit cold levels Long distances I go more Until sweet dreams too unravel
This journey’s not mine Too lonesome to stay I flicker my wings And yet again for love, do I pray.’
Silence fell as the last of his words filtered through the morning air, my ears still peeked as I now listened to his slow, calm breath, my hand wrapped around his arm. He had spoken as if his poem was directed at the birds in the trees themselves, his eyes reaching up to the empty branches in the near distance, no birds to be seen. It was just us two. Or three actually, as Kal, though blissfully aware of this magical moment, was there too, roaming around freely in the thicket.
‘When did you write that?’ I finally asked, looking up at him, his face calm. ‘The day after you left London. I actually hadn’t slept a wink that night before you had to fly back. I…gosh I’m such a foo-‘ - ‘Stop that.’ I halted my feet and gave him a fiery gaze. ‘Don’t apologise for your feelings.’ I admonished, then gently rubbed his arm. ‘And that was a terribly beautiful poem Hen.���
‘Hmm.’ He smiled, slightly unsure. ‘Thank you Ali.’
‘No thank you. And to answer your bird’s heart.’ I cupped his cheek in both hands. ‘I love you and I want to make that journey with you, I do.’
‘Even after all the surrogate mother shit and..’ - ‘Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill. Did you just haphazardly skip the first half of my blog this morning?’ I raised a teasing, yet authoritative eyebrow at him. He bit his lip to hide a chuckle. ‘I’m doing it too, huh?’
‘Yep. Take my love you fool! Take it! TAKE IT!’ I used both my hands to shake him like a salt shaker - though little did I actually get him to move as this man was about as built as the empire state building. His smile grew and grew and before long he was laughing aloud, his head nodding in amusement. ‘Okay Ali. Ali. You can stop now. I surrender.’
‘Then kiss me like you mea-‘ I wasn’t even allowed to finish that sentence, his lips crashing down onto mine. Soft and plushy, the after taste of his morning coffee still lingering, he was not going to let the moment go to waste.
We probably stood there for a few minutes. Just kissing, our cheeks burning like hot coals despite the icy wind around us, his hands carefully wrapped around my head, keeping me where he wanted me to be. His fellow bird, ready to fly out together.
Or well, almost; first I had to take my employer up on that hiatus proposal.  
‘I got the okay! She’s going to check for a temp writer and once that person’s all settled in, I could..go with you.’ I cheered, flying around Henry’s neck, not minding the fact that his parents were also near - his mom just peeking her head around the corner of the kitchen and his dad probably reading his newspaper in the living room.
‘What?! Really?!’ Henry’s smile grew from ear to ear as he wrapped me, winter coat and all, in his arms. ‘Baby that’s..’ He leaned back again. ‘Wow.’ He near giggled.
‘Are you staying for dinner, Ali?’ His mom inquired, infiltrating on our little moment. We quickly awoke from our little bubble and Henry muttered some quiet apology, pushing the still opened front door closed behind us.
‘Eh…’ I blinked at Henry. He smiled and nodded, bidding me to accept her offer. ‘Yes please. Thank you Marianne.’ I looked over at her and she gave me a most adoring wink. ‘You are practically family Ali.’ She mused, disappearing back into the kitchen where dinner was already well on the way.
I watched her waddle off, feeling Henry’s strong arms pull me in for a full-circled swoop through the air, making me fly like the birds in his poem. ‘I love you so much!’ He exclaimed, making me laugh with pure giddiness. ‘Hen! Carefu— OHH — HEN- put me down, put me down hahahah. Oh gosh.’ I squirmed until finally he put me back on my feet, his wide teethed grin causing sweet dimples to crease his cheeks.
‘I love you too, silly.’
‘Then I better start calling my agent, hmm?’
‘Mhm. You better.’
--
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demivampirew · 4 years ago
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Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 43
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Previous Chapters in the masterlist
Triggers: talking about sex (no smut!); talking about bullying (besides that lots of fluff ♥)
Tag list: @mary-ann84​  @yespolkadotkitty​ @constip8merm8​ @iloveyouyen​  @wondersofdreaming​ @alyxkbrl​ @solariumss​  @sweetybuzz25​ @thethirstyarchive​ @agniavateira​   @honeyloverogers​ @hell1129-blog​   @lunedelorient​​  @michelle-1185​​  @madbaddic7ed​​     @summersong69​​ @kaatelyyynn​​ @henrythickcavill​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @desperate-and-broken​ @peakygroupie​  @ivvitm1109​  @the-soot-sprite @whyyoudothistomecavill @thevelvetseries​ @thetaoofzoe​ @thereisa8ella​
A/N: in this chapter I talked about Jersey’s Battle of Flowers Parade; here’s a link if you want to see it https://www.facebook.com/JerseyBattleofFlowers/videos/272534963369073/​
Walking with Henry while he grabbed your hand in the cold night with all the gorgeous colourful Christmas lights around Jersey's city streets was a dream.
Since the shops were open until later than usual,  you decided to do the present shopping at that time so his nephews and niece would not see the gifts.
The only present you bought in London was a Channel dress that you saw Marianne liked on Facebook and comment on the photo saying that she adore that dress. Since his family was so big, it would have been impossible for you to carry all the presents on the plane.
Henry was right, the winter nights in Jersey were beautiful. He told you about the Jersey Battle of Flowers Christmas Parade that happened every year on the streets of St. Helier, but unfortunately, it's been cancelled this year due to covid-19.
Back at his parents' house, your boyfriend's mom received you with a cup of hot chocolate and coffee for him.  While Charlie's kids were sleep, the adults enjoyed a nice chat about pasts family Christmas' celebrations. Heather and you chuckled when you heard Colin tell the story of when he found twelve-year-old Henry and his little brother reading Playboy magazine, which he bought from a schoolmate, who stole it from his dad - needless to say, Henry wanted the earth to swallow him up. You caressed his face and kissed him on the cheek to make him feel least embarrassed, but you could see that he was still red as a tomato. Maybe it could have helped if you told him that both your ex's brother and mother caught you on the act but you chose not to tell that story just in case, especially not in front of his parents.
The men left the room to the computer room where they wanted to watch a new online game Charlie was playing. Heather left to bed and Marianne and you stayed looking at old family photo albums. You laughed out loud after seeing a photo of your man when he was 7 dressed up as Batman, his mom chuckled and made you promise no to tell anyone that you saw that picture. You could see that they were pretty close since the album was full of photos of all of them together.
A picture stood up from the rest. A little chubby kid smiling, filled with happiness. It was hard to describe what was so special about that photo, but that what it was, special, a treasure. Your fingers stroke the picture and Marianne looked at you with a smile.
- I love that photo too.-she admitted. - He was so little and cute.- you commented. - He hates it.- she replied shaking her head. - Why? It's beautiful! - you asked confused. - He was a little overweight and kids made fun of him so he dislikes most of his photos from that era.- she explained sadly. You couldn't blame him, after all, you were teased from your looks as well and hated your photos for that. You sighed. How much bullying can affect the life of a person? He always says kids are kids and that he doesn't hold a grudge on anyone, and he's right, but that doesn't mean that it's ok and things should change.
You respected the rule you set the first time you were there for the Durrell Challenge of not having sex on his parent's house. Instead, you cozy up and pressed your head against his hairy chest as he hugged you. It could be 0°C and you would still be warm by being pressed against his hot body. Softly, making sure not to wake him up, you caressed his face. He was so beautiful.
When was the last time you celebrated a Christmas with your family? Probably when you were 10 or so, you couldn't remember it. No one on your family really cared about the holidays and you pretended to be like them, but always desired a big family celebration and that's what you got after a long time.
The house was full of people and life. All of Henry's brothers were there with their kids and Henry's aunt as well. All the kids running around and playing. You spent some time playing with the little ones and Heather and then shared cool stories about your music work with the teens -knowing rockstars like Slash gained you a lot of points with them, especially with Thomas. Delicious food, cheerful music and laughter filled the house. There was no sadness that day, only happiness. The next morning, you got up and found a lot of present for you: Henry got you a box filled with stationery (cute pens, markers, brush pens for calligraphy and lots of beautiful washi tapes) - he knew how much you loved journaling, so he spied on your stationery to make sure he could get you things you didn't have. Kal got you a beautiful silver bracelet with the date you and Henry met engraved on it. His niece made a cute drawing of you two together. All the gifts were marvellous, but one stood up from the rest. A present Marianne got you and made sure no one saw it because it was the first time she had done this: in a photo mark, it was the picture of Henry you loved. You looked at her with watery eyes as you put the photo close to your heart and hugged it.
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babiedeku · 5 years ago
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hallo! can i request a swan lake au with tanjirou? particularly at the part where the swan tries to stop the prince making a vow to the wrong girl, but fails, and now tanjirou must defeat the wizard muzan in order to save the reader. he then defeats the wizard and angst happens which is turned into a happy ending in which the swan curse is lifted and they live happily ever after and what not (*´ω`*)
hi omg its finally here! after so long! im really sorry it took me forever but i hope you like it somehow! :”( thank you again for the request anon, this one was fun to write! - marianne
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One thing’s for sure, Tanjirou wouldn’t be in this situation if he had just listened the Swan Queen’s, (Y/N)’s, warning. He had just brushed it off, thinking it was just some absurd lore that was passed down through word of mouth to warn people from being too trusting of strangers and that not everything is what they seem at first glance.
Who - ? Tanjirou just saw you flee into the woods, wearing nothing but a white silk night dress.
“What’s wrong, Your Highness?”
Bringing back his attention to the person in front of him, (Y/N), or at least a very convincing clone of the said queen. “Drop the guise,” Tanjirou’s voice was even despite the anger that was bubbling deep within him, and his hand was itching to reach for the hilt of his sword, but he remained still in front of the imposter. “Muzan.”
A low sounding laughter echoed throughout the room, the sickly smell of burning skin hit Tanjirou’s nostrils - it was the foulest and most evil smell he has by far encountered, how had he not noticed it before? - your beautiful and ethereal features sloughing off to slowly reveal the demon sorcerer himself, red eyes keenly looking Tanjirou over. “I’m impressed,” He said, voice soft but as cold as the winter breeze. “you’re the first to have caught on this early,” The pool of melted skin sitting at his feet.
The first?  There have been a number of nobles and royals that have been killed, their kingdoms left to rot with no one ruling over them. The said kingdoms commoners would later on be found massacred, their blood soaking the lands, bodies mangled from only the gods know what. The stench arising from the dead was horrendous to Tanjirou and his keen sense of smell, and the scene of all those corpses were ingrained into his brain, the subject of his recurring nightmares.
To think that this man, Muzan, was the one who was responsible for all those innocent people’s deaths. This monster, as he continues to breathe and roam the lands, is an insult to their deaths.
“Oh, Tanjirou, my love,” Muzan mocked the young prince, his mouth was moving but your sweet and gentle voice was all that Tanjirou could hear, he could also almost see you vaguely.
Tanjirou’s breath hitched. Don’t, he thought, steering himself from trying to run up to you and wrap you in his arms. This madman was trying to get a rise out of him.
“I haven’t told you how absolutely delicious your family was, and how lovely they looked in their own blood.”
Something snapped inside of Tanjirou, it was as if there was a dam within him that was holding back all his anger and frustration, and his pent up anger was washing over him in waves. To massacre entire kingdoms to be able to gain power and impersonate the woman he’s in love with to be able to do the same with him and the kingdom he reigns over was one thing, but to also bring up his family in such a way and in your voice was something else - that’s where he fucking draws the line.
Drawing his sword, he pressed the tip to Muzan’s throat, with just enough force to draw a little blood. “You are a being that should not be allowed to exist.” Tanjirou said, face devoid of any emotion, but his words were dripping with venom.
“I am this close to being the perfect creature, and once I am able to feed on you and your pathetic subjects, I’ll be able to move on to other regions in Japan.”
The way he referred to himself was odd, ‘creature’? Tanjirou was confused, but he tabled that for a later thought, right now he had more pressing matters than think what Muzan is. “All this for wanting to take over the country?”
Muzan laughed, a cold breeze accompanying the humorless laughter. “You belittle me, prince?”
Darkness suddenly enveloped the room, even the late afternoon rays of the sun was obscured, leaving Tanjirou blind and surrounded in pitch black darkness.
“The last person who crossed me got turned into a swan.” The sorcerer’s voice echoed all throughout the room. “give me your kingdom, and i promise your death will be quick and painless.”
A swan? Could it be - ?
You had mentioned in passing, one night when he snuck out of castle grounds to come spend some time with you by your lake, about being turned into a swan as a punishment for defying the orders of a sorcerer who threatened to take over your kingdom.
His anger would be handled later, and perhaps an apology for being too dismissive of what had happened to you.
Tanjirou was calm despite being engulfed in darkness and having a sorcerer flitting around the throne room. His oddly keen sense of smell can easily pinpoint where Muzan was, if he could just -
A pained gasp left his lips, a searing pain on his left side suddenly bombarded his senses, as his hand slowly met the warm liquid on his side.
Taking a deep breathe to calm his nerves and steel himself, he tightened his grasp on the hilt of his sword.
Breathe.
Calm your mind.
His nostrils felt like they were burning with the horrid stench of burning flesh enveloping him. But, this was one of the many reasons why he treasure his keen sense of smell, because despite being literally kept in the dark and blindsided by his enemy, there would be moments that the smell of a silver lining would make itself known to Tanjirou, a thread of sorts that helps him pinpoint where his enemy’s location and weaknesses are.
And right now, it was right behind him.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Tanjirou turned around and brought his blade down onto Muzan as swiftly as he could, hoping he at least caused some sort of damage to the sorcerer.
The darkness slowly dissipated, revealing Muzan with a deep gash on his right eye and cheek, his blood gushing out as his veins stood out against his pale skin with a black shade.
“Pest,” The sorcerer spat, but gave the young prince a bloody smile. “you never seem to vanish, don’t you?”
Tanjirou nodded, his world was blurry and his head was heavy due to the blood that he was losing, but he would be damned if he can’t somehow defeat this monstrosity that stood before him and save the girl that has set his heart aflame. “Takes more than blood lust and thirst for power to rid me from this world.”
Muzan cackled, somehow truly bemused with the humans standing before him. “It is truly annoying how you pathetic human’s just don’t stop fighting -”
He stopped mid sentence, a sickening sound was heard along with a pained groan from Muzan, and then right before Tanjirou’s eyes, he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
“I think a thank you is in order right about now,” You spoke, a small smile on your lips.
Tanjirou was rooted to his place, eyes wide and mind going blank as he stared at you standing in front of the crumpled sorcerer with a sword that probably belonged to one of the armors that lined the hallways. You were still in your white silk night gown, that was a little too sheer to his liking and left little to the imagination, making a blush erupt on the poor prince’s handsome features, and you were soaked in sweat and had some blood here and there - but god, you were still the most beautiful woman he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.
He wanted to weep at your feet, take you in his arms, apologize for not listening to you, and even give you a robe to cover yourself up, but he would save those for a time where the both of you were not involved with a madman sorcerer.
“But,” Your voice breaking him out of his trance, you grabbed his hand and ran  through the winding hallways of his castle. “we have to run, that was just something to buy us some time,”
“Right,” Was all Tanjirou’s mind could think of to say, his mind was going hazy with the blood loss, but he was sure that he would run to the ends of the earth with you.
Finally outside of the castle walls, both of you ran toward your small lake where you would, even if by a fraction, have the upper hand when it comes to confronting Muzan.
“Leaving so soon?” The voice sent chills down both of your spines, the night sky was slowly getting darker as each second passed. “Disrespectful to just leave a guest lying in their own pool of blood, Queen (Y/N).”
You glared at the man, hovering just behind you, dark cloudy wisps surrounding him. “You were no guest, you were unwelcomed in the first place.”
Muzan was unhappy with his spiel being rebutted, he growled and lunged at the pair.
Looking to the young prince beside you, all you could give him was an apologetic look because you knew that jumping into a lake from the tears of another person is not something that everyone would want to do. With no further explanation to jumped into the lake with Tanjirou in tow.
Tanjirou was not expecting this, he was not prepared for the plunge and his lungs were ready to get oxygen in them, but he knew any other movements would be futile underwater.
You grasped his hand a little tighter, hoping that he would somehow be reassured that he is not alone in the hellish nightmare unfolding before their eyes.
After a few more painful seconds a distant bellow was heard, along with the sudden flash of bright light.
Tanjirou was the first so break to the surface, gasping for air as he tried to survey his surroundings, looking for any signs of Muzan that could still be lurking in the very woods.
“Gone,” You gasped beside him, finally going up for some much needed air. “H-he’s finally gone,”
Tanjirou was relieved to finally have Muzan banished from the world, he hoped that the souls of all those innocent people, and his family, are at peace knowing that Muzan no longer walks the earth.
You were also beside him, hands still intertwined as the both of you stood in the lake.
He could feel the tears from the pent up anger, fear, exhaustion, and relief finally forming in the corner of his eyes - he was just so glad to finally have you with you him where he could make sure that the both of you live a happy, prosperous, and safe life together.
The two of you were silent for a few moments before Tanjirou finally threw himself onto you for a hug - it lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away, because he doesn’t want to over step your boundaries. “I’m sorry, I-I should have-” His profuse and heartfelt apologies went on for a full minute before you decided to stop his rambling with a quick kiss to the lips.
“Stop apologizing, my prince,” You smiled at the blushing boy. “I’m just glad I finally get to be with you,”
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msbluebell · 5 years ago
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Captive!AU where Claude and the Deers decide to save Byleth, because Clause is a awesome tacticien and will have a super plan. They manage to save Byleth and return to the monastery for take some rest and Dimitri jumps on them, like a angry, hissing and grumpy cat, only for stop when he sees Byleth. Claude explains and must force Dimitri to stay and to not run to Embarr.
Are you suggesting I finally write the legendary Golden Deer Jailbreak branch of the Captive AU? Because that’s what this sounds like to me.
The scenario begins as all Golden Deer branches of the Captive AU begins, with Lorenz.
Lorenz has, of course, been somewhat unwillingly working with the Empire, ala the game proper. Thus, he is in the spot most crucial to finding out that not only is Byleth alive, but being held in the Tower of Treasures (later known as the Lover’s Tower).
I think he learns the truth from Ferdinand.
Maybe Ferdinand couldn’t take the guilt anymore, maybe he wanted to free Byleth, but couldn’t do it by his own friends. Maybe he he was drunk and vulnerable, having been the one to visit the professor with their food that day, only to be given the cold shoulder. Maybe he has an escape plan cobbling together in his head and is testing the waters for allies. Any way you imagine it, Ferdinand lets the information slip to a shocked and appalled Lorentz.
Now, Lorentz has a lot to lose here. He has everything he values on the line, and his very life to lose. He could be killed for treason if he’s caught. But, damn it all, he’s a noble and gentleman first and foremost. It’s the one thing he truly, honestly, completely believes in, and he’s willing to die if that’s what it takes to keep his head high. He rather die a true noble, with all the ideals that come with it, than allow such an atrocity to happen. So, with all the pride and confidence that only Lorentz could summon, he pens a letter to Claude and sends it posthaste. He’s so confident that Claude will do something about this mess that he doesn’t even bother being obtuse about the situation. He boldly explains everything happening and has the letter sent in the cover of night.
Claude get’s the letter at breakfast.
He opens it while drinking coffee, reads through it because if Lorenz is sending a letter than it must be something important, and promptly spits out his coffee and rereads the letter seven times just to be sure he’s reading it right before sending out messengers to collect his inner circle right now please.
Now, I’ve already made the post about the Golden Deer’s reactions to all this nonsense, so I’m going to skip that and go straight to the planning for the jailbreak.
Several of the Golden Deer are absolutely not cut out for stealth. The are, however, good for leading large raids against key territories at key times that can easily distract Edelgard’s attention while the infiltrators impregnate the city and find the tower.
Now, they can’t start their infiltration without a map of Enbarr, so they spend the better part of a week studying the layout of the city and the fastest way to get to the tower. No one knows what’s inside the tower itself, so they’ll have to rush from there, but getting in and finding their way out once they leave should be the easiest part.
The plan is thus: Claude, Raphael and Leonie will lead raids in strategic locations away from the city. While the army is occupied dealing with the Alliance and Kingdom armies, their stealth group will sneak in.
From here, Ignatz and Lysithea will be stationed within the city to provide distraction just in case the guards realize there are intruders to the tower. Once the alarms are set they’ll cause havoc and distract the guards so they don’t go after the rescue team.
The rescue team will be Hilda and Marianne. Hilda will be used to knock out the guards and defeat any monsters, while Marianne will not only provide healing, but also break curses left behind by Hubert.
The plan is actually surprisingly functional. Hilda is very serious about getting out of here as fast as possible, and with the guards confused about where to go to find the intruders, while also being distracted, they manage to get through the traps inside relatively fast. The real problem was the mazes. They had and idea that there would be mazes, but the mazes inside the tower are definitely overkill. (Hilda: “I’m starting to wish Lysithea was here to teleport us.” Marianne: “She wouldn’t have known where to go.”) 
It takes long enough that Ignatz and Lysithea are forced to flee the city without them. Lysithea comes back and hides, waiting for them, after a while, but Ignatz has to book it.
It takes a while, but Hilda and Marianne finally find the right door. Hilda knocks out the guard. She nearly screams in frustration when she sees he doesn’t have a key.
Whatever.
She takes an axe to the fucking wall. Fuck it, they’ve come here to get teach, they’re going to fucking get her.
One whole in the wall later, and several broken axes, a wide eyed Byleth is shakily stepping through the hole. Marianne wastes no time dotting on them, making sure to take note of how pale they are and trying to deduce the effects being locked away had on them.
“Hello professor.” Hilda swings the axe across her shoulders, “Been a while since we’ve seen you. Things have gone totally nuts since you’ve been gone. Hope you’re ready to go, because we’re not coming back here.”
Byleth honest to goddess look so hopeful that it almost makes Marianne cry right there.
But they don’t have time for that. They need to get outside and find Lysithea.
So they spend, like, the next hour or two trying to navigate their way out and taking out any guards that came to replace the previous shift. Luckily, lunch time passed a long time ago, so none of the students are there yet.
They get outside and that’s when they have to book it to Lysithea’s hiding spot. Which, okay, she’s not hiding anymore because Marianne sent up a fireball and now Lysithea knows where they are.
Several teleports later, they’re making mad dashes on horseback away from Enbarr.
Byleth reunites with the Golden Deer kids in a sweet, tearful, reunion that may or may not involve Claude leaping off a damn flying wyvern to tackle teach into a hug. 
Just because Byleth taught the Blue Lions doesn’t mean they weren’t the favorite professor for everyone else, too.
So there’s about a day or so spent just, getting Byleth fed, washed up, getting them better clothes, and just plain catching them up on what’s been going on the last five years while they were locked up.
...five years...
Byleth thanks the Golden Deer for everything, but tells the kids they need to go back to Garreg Mach now. When the Golden Deer kids ask why, Byleth explains the promise the Blue Lions made five years ago.
“Teach...” Claude’s voice takes on the slightest tint of sadness, “No one has seen Dimitri for five years. Even if he wasn’t really executed...there’s no guarantee he’s alive.”
Byleth shakes their head, “I believe in him. And even if he’s not there, the rest of the Blue Lions will be.”
“Will they?” Leonie raises an eyebrow, “No offense, but it’s been five years of war, there’s more important things to do.”
“You all came for me and I’m not your teacher.” Byleth shook their head, “They’ll come. I know they will. Especially Dimitri.”
No one wants to say that rescuing Byleth, on top of being a moral move, was also just tactically wise. And no was wants to tell them that they don’t believe Dimitri will turn up.
Still, Claude believes in Byleth, and if Byleth believes Dimitri will turn up, then hey, maybe he just might!
“Alright teach.” Claude smiles, “We’ll go with you. If you say they’ll be there, than the Blue Lions kids, yeah, Dimitri too, will definitely be there.”
So they go to Garreg Mach, everyone a little bit (reasonably) skeptical.
They find Dimitri there.
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theatersunavailable · 5 years ago
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“National Treasure” (2004)
PG, 131 minutes, directed by Jon Turteltaub, screenplay by Jim Kouf and Cormac Wibberley, and Marianne Wibberley
Notable performers: Justin Bartha is incredibly charming as Riley. And it’s got Sean Bean and he doesn’t die! Also, Nic Cage, duh. 
Where to watch: Stream on Netflix or rent on major video platforms, as of March 2020.
Why you should watch it in general: Who doesn’t love a good treasure hunt?
Why you should watch it while your stuck at home: The fact that the FBI agent (played by Harvey Keitel) doesn’t arrest Nic Cage at the end, and instead sends the movie’s real bad guy to jail, is a nice reminder that sometimes the American government does the right thing?
Does the tailer do it justice: No! The trailer makes it seem like a weird family-destiny thing (which the movie is kind of only about). It gets bonus points for the inclusion of Diane Kruger’s beautifully delivered line: “Did Bigfoot take it?”
Is it part of a franchise: … No? It did perform well enough that a delightful sequel was made, and the world keeps hoping for “National Treasure 3″, but I’m gonna go with “not a franchise” - but watch the sequel!
Have I seen it before: Yes, I don’t really remember the context. It may have been Sunday movie night with my friend Ellen. I really enjoy revisiting occasionally - the characters are pretty fun. And it’s a treasure hunt!
This movie is fun! The performances are great. You get to learn a little bit about American history. Everybody knows the “I’m going to steal the Declaration of Independence” line. Yeah, it’s a little bit cheesy, but I think we could all use a little cheese these days.
I promise to do more niche movies, but this just warms my heart so much and I was excited to see that it was Netlix and share my joy with you!
youtube
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vgckwb · 5 years ago
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ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 57: The Day Becomes The Night!
Hao-yu and Corina were still hugging. They stopped. “Ah, yes, well…” Corina said.
Hao-yu turned to the woman in black. “How did you find her?” he asked.
Master Fu smiled. “She had help from an old friend.”
“Master Fu?” Hao-yu said. “You did this?” Master Fu nodded. Hao-yu hugged the guardian. “Thank you.”
The hug ended. “Master, you still refer to her as just a friend? You ought to be ashamed of yourself” Marinette said.
“Yes, well, um…” Master Fu said.
“It’s alright” the woman in black said. She took off the stuff obstructing her face to reveal Marianne. “I know what he means.”
“Wait, you’re the lady that became Backwarder!” Adrien said.
Marianne nodded. “I’d like to apologize for that time.”
“No, I’m the one who should apologize” Marinette said. “I mixed up all of those notes, and...and you came to hate Master Fu…”
Marianne placed her hand on Marinette. “It’s alright child. Everyone makes mistakes.” Marinette smiled and blushed.
“So, do you have the miraculous?” Master Fu asked.
Corina went through her bag and pulled out two wristbands, one with a  spider insignia, and the other with a scorpion insignia. “Here you go.” Master Fu was confused. “Where are they?”
“Oh, they’re tired,” Corina said. “We should let them sleep.”
“I imagine their entire temple crumbling down like that must have shaken them pretty hard” Hao-yu said.
“Not to mention the jet lag” Marianne said.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Marinette asked.
Master Fu smiled. He took the spider and scorpion miraculous and hid them. “These two miraculous are special. Arakk, the kwami of locks, and Scorpii, the kwami of keys. Those two have been together since they first appeared. They share a special bond and cannot be separated.”
“Awww, that’s cute” Marinette said.
“That sounds like marriage” Adrien said, smiling.
“Indeed, Cat Noir” Master Fu said. “But it is different in that if they are ever separated by more than a mile, destructive magic runs chaotically.”
“Oh” Marinette said.
“We were studying their temple” Hao-yu said. “We had each taken one, but then we were attacked.”
“By who?” Adrien said.
“Looters” Hao-yu said with obvious contempt.
“They had come seeking treasure, and knocked me out. By moving me out of the way, they had managed to separate us farther than we had wanted to.”
“We each had a miraculous, and when the limit was reached, the magic that created the harmony of the temple also destroyed it” Hao-yu said. “I went back and took care of the looters and found that Corina was stuck in the ruins. She had Arakk on her, and she promises to keep her safe. I left Scorpii behind and went to Master Fu.”
“And you know the rest” Master Fu said.
“Woah” Adrien said.
“In deed” Master Fu replied.
“Hang on” Marinette said. “The fact that a group of looters tried to loot this iracuous sit. Doesn’t that sound like the story of Master Fu and Hao-yu’s grandfather?”
“I mean, kind of” Adrien said.
“Don’t you find it odd?” Marinette said.
“What do you mean?” Hao-yu asked.
Marinette thought about it. “Well, did the looters know where they were?” Hao-yu nodded. “That’s what seems odd to me.” Everyone else seemed confused. “I mean, a direct attack on miraculous site. They would have to be aware of the existence of such places.”
“I don’t suppose it was more common knowledge when Hao-yu’s grandfather was around” Adrien said.
“Marinette, you think there is something more going on here” Master Fu said. Marientte nodded. “Very well. We shall look into it.”
“We shall” Marinette said.
“Not you” Master Fu said.
“But Master-” Marinette yelled.
Fu put his finger up. “Your job right now is to stop Hawk Moth” he reminded her. “Paris needs Ladybug. We will do everything we can. We will look into what we have.” He looked at Marianne and Corina. “All of us.”
Marinette seemed distressed. Adrien wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Master Fu is right. You can’t be Ladybug, be Marinette, and look through artifacts.” Marinette was about to speak, but Adrien interrupted her. “And no, you aren’t going to quit being Marinette. Everyone needs you. You ARE the everyday Ladybug. Even if you weren’t Ladybug, you’d still be needed.” Marinette started to tear up in joy and gave Adrien a hug. Adrien gently stroked her hair.
“Ah, young love” Marianne said.
Master Fu took Marianne’s hand. “I prefer what we have.” He smiled. She blushed. They shared a kiss.
“So, what should we do now?” Adrien asked.
Marinette let go of Adrien. “I think we should go back to my place. My parents say they have something special for us.”
“Sounds great!” Adrien said. “You’ve got everything under control here?” Master Fu nodded. “Great. Seeya!” The two walked out.
“So,” Hao-yu said, “what’s going to happen? I assume she can’t stay, since she’s been akumatized.”
Master Fu smiled. “I was worried about that. But time has passed, Hawk Moth doesn’t know she has returned, and I’ve kept you around, haven’t I?”
Hao-yu averted his gaze. Corina took hold of his arm. “It’ll be alright.”
Hao-yu smiled. “Yeah” he said.
“Besides, we might be able to use this to our advantage” Master Fu said. “With more people available to study what we have, we might unlock more secrets.” The team smiled, and then started looking through their material.
Vlad, Kagami, Wayhem, Travis and Cassandra were walking to Le Grand Paris. “Today sure was fun,” Travis said.
“It’s always fun with the three of us” Cassandra added.
“Yeah, if there’s one thing I miss about Toulouse, it’s you guys” Vlad said.
“I had fun too” Kagami said.
“Of course!” Travis said. “Are you going to hang out with us tomorrow?”
Kagami thought on it. “I don’t know. I might have other things.”
“Well, there’s always a spot open for you,” Travis said. Cassandra rolled her eyes.
“I still can’t believe that I got offered to try out to be a model” Wayhem said.
Vlad smiled. “You’ll do just fine,” he said. “My mom can seem a bit cold, but she’s actually one of the sweetest people I know.”
“Yeah, Vlad’s a big ol mama’s boy” Cassandra said. Vlad blushed.
“Well, we’re here” Vlad said, approaching the foot of Le Grand Paris. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.?”
“Of course” Cassandra said.
“Wouldn’t miss it” Travis said.
“OK you two. Goodnight” Vlad said, the two entered the hotel. “Do you guys want some company on your way home?”
“Of course!” Wayhem said.
“I’ll split off here as well” Kagami said. “It’ll be quicker this way.”
“I see” Vlad said. “Well, we had a good day regardless. Seeya.” Kagami nodded and took off. Vlad and Wayhem started walking off as well.
Travis and Cassandra walked into Le Grand Paris. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Travis said.
“Yeah. Shame we gotta get back to Toulouse soon after” Cassandra added. Travis glared at her.
They were interrupted by the mayor yelling into his phone. “What do you mean my daughter isn’t coming home tonight?!”
On the other end, Roger was trying to keep things quiet. “Well, sir, it seems that our daughters fell asleep nestled into each other watching TV. They look so peaceful, I don’t want to wake them.”
Mayor Bourgeois was surprised, confused, then delighted. “Alright Roger. Sorry I raised my voice. I’m sure they’ll be alright with you.”
“Thank you sir” Roger said.
They hung up. Travis and Cassandra walked up to him. “Are you alright?” Cassandra asked.
“Oh, I’m fine” mayor Bourgeois said. “I’m just not used to my daughter dating someone for real. It takes some getting used to.” He then sighed. “She’s really growing up, isn’t she?”
Cassandra smiled. “Of course. I’m just glad you’re so supportive.” The Mayor smiled. “Well, bye.” The two walked off to the elevator.
They entered, and found themselves standing next to disguised Lila. They were confused. They got off on the same floor, but ended up going different directions. The pair from Toulouse just shrugged it off. Meanwhile, Lila returned to her room, took off some of her disguise and sprawled herself on her bed.
Lila was so confused. Marinette misses me? She wants to bury the hatchet? No. She just wants to embarrass me further. But then, how could I be further embarrassed? Whatever. It’s not like I deserve it anyway.
Why does Lorenzo keep giving me the benefit of the doubt? Like me showing up will solve everything. Why does he care? He’s just thinking of a past image of me. It’s not who I am. The person I am broke his heart into a million pieces. And yet, he still wants to find me.
I’m pathetic. She looked around her room. I’m in Chloe’s dad’s hotel. I’ve seen Chloe change. She’s become a better person. Could I become better too? Would people like me if I did?
But then again, Chloe had people who believed in her. Adrien, because he’s so kind, and her pet...friend...girlfriend, I guess… Who would believe me? I’ve lied so much. And they know it.
This is so frustrating! I can’t go back until I have a clear answer! Lila then got under the covers and went to bed.
Meanwhile, Hawk Moth was standing on the Arc de Triomphe. Judgement Wolf arrived. “Well well” Hawk Moth said.
“Before we begin, I have to ask you. Why did you attack Paris Pride?” Judgement Wolf inquired.
“It’s a big event” Hawk Moth said. “A lot of people, a lot of chances to get Ladybug and Cat Noir to slip up.”
Judgement Wolf stared at him. “So, you’re not anti-LGBT+?”
“Of course not” Hawk Moth said.
“Good” Judgement Wolf said. “Because if you were, I’d throw down without hesitation!”
Hawk Moth smiled. “Aren’t you worried you let something slip?”
“Some things are more important” Judgement Wolf retorted.
“Of course” Hawk Moth said. “So, what can you tell me?”
“The guardian is eager to help fix the peacock miraculous” Judgment Wolf said. “But he’s not too keen on meeting up with you.”
“Understandable” Hawk Moth said. He thought on it for a moment. “I have an idea.”
“Go on…” Judgement Wolf instructed.
“What about that guy I akumatized earlier? The one with the kwami tracker?” Hawk Moth said.
“What about him?” Judgement Wolf asked.
“He has intimate knowledge of the kwamis” Hawk Moth continued. “I know him, so there’s no danger of revealing the guardian, and my akuma will be trained on Lila the entire time as a deterrent for you, so I can’t akumatized him again.”
“Alright” Judgement Wolf aid. “I’ll take this idea the guardian. If all goes well, we might be able to fix the miraculous the next time we meet.”
Hawk Moth smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.” Judgement Wolf left. Hawk Moth took his leave soon after.
Adrien and Marinette walked into the bakery where they were presented with the cake of the image Wayhem took of them. They were surprised, and slightly embarrassed, but they ate the cake anyway, and it was delicious. Adrien had to leave soon after, and Marinette went back to her room. She felt more relaxed after today. Adrien always knew how to cheer her up. Adrien also felt better about himself. Helping Marinette made him feel warm and fuzzy. The idea that someone could care that much for him was amazing, and he cherished every little moment.
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nunonabun · 7 years ago
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The Family Look [2/2]
Tim washed the dishes as his parents put his little sister and brother to bed. These past couple of years he’d come to find the rhythm of washing the dishes with the radio on softly in the background rather calming. The repetitive task game him a chance to turn over the day’s troubles while occupying his hands, such that he didn’t just end up lying in bed tossing and turning.
The glass doors to the back yard always let through more sound than his parents remembered, so he’d overheard part of his parents’ conversation with Angela, and it lingered stubbornly in his mind. They were right that love made a family, it was something they’d raised him with that he firmly believed. But sometimes resemblance was all you had to remember someone by. He didn’t even have that. Everyone told him he was the spit of his father, expecting their comments would make him proud. Yet in spite of the ways he was proud to be like his father, he wished he was like Teddy, who took after his Mummy. He’d resisted thinking it at first. In spite of his Mum’s assurances, he still sometimes fell guilty when that old feeling of grief over his first mother welled up in him. He knew Mum would say he could love them both, and he did. But only one mother was permanently fixed in his earliest memories of what it was to be loved, and he had long ago forgotten what that love looked like on her face.
He was so deep in though he didn’t hear his mum coming up behind him.  
“You look quite melancholy, dear. Is something the matter?” She posed it as a question, but he knew she had already determined that he was feeling down.
“It’s not much. It’s late. You and Dad should go to sleep, I know you’ve both had a long day.” Though they’d talked about Mummy a lot when she and Dad first got engaged, and then periodically over the years, he now shied away from the conversation.
He should have know Mum would be determined not to send him to bed sad. She wrapped an arm around his waist, it had been many years since she was tall enough to reach his shoulders. “Tim, you know you can tell me about whatever is bothering you. And if not me, then your father. Don’t let this eat at you all night.”
He sighed and picked up another plate. “I overheard a bit of your conversation with Angela earlier, and it was just making me think about how much I look like Dad.” He admitted, knowing she would understand the meaning behind his words.
She did. “Oh Tim, you know you resemble your mother as well.”
He shook his head, unreasonably frustrated. “No I don’t. Everyone’s always saying I look like Dad, even you.”
Mum slid her arm away and picked up a drying towel, and for a moment he feared he’d hurt her. He waited for her to reply, knowing that even if he had, she would be thinking carefully about how to respond.
“Perhaps it was thoughtless of me, to always focus on your resemblance to your father. Others are more likely to compare the two of you because they see you together so often, and people often like to compare daughters to their mothers and sons to their fathers.” She paused to study his face, gauging something, though he wasn’t quite sure what. “It is also possible that they may worry - if they knew your Mummy - that reminding you of her would be painful.”
He thought on that a moment, fighting the lump in his throat as he carefully cleaned the teapot.
“It hurts more to forget her.” It was barely louder than a whisper, feeling childish, but a weight lifted from his shoulders as he said it. “I’ve spent as much of my life without her as with her and… I don’t remember what she looked like very well.”
He paused to gather himself, and was grateful that Mum let him. “I used to think I could remember what she looked like by looking in the mirror, and with photos, but now it’s like… she’s frozen. I don’t remember what it was like to see her laugh or break into a smile or look at me like you are now. And I can’t even find a rough idea of those things in the mirror, cause I look so much like Dad.”
“I think you may be looking at those photographs through the lenses of loss, Tim.” Mum remarked gently, taking the proffered teapot, but setting it down so she could cup his face. “I knew your mummy. Not well, but well enough that I can say you’ve got her colouring, and you certainly have her smile.”
Tim’s eyes blurred, but he smiled even as he sniffed and looked away, relief enveloping him like a blanket. The photo of his first birthday was the one he cherished most, for the very reason that her smile there seemed so familiar that he could convince himself he’d inherited it. To hear Mum tell him it wasn’t just him fooling himself meant a great deal to him.
Mum rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, but still looked concerned. “Dad would be able to tell you all the little ways you’re alike, sweetheart, why haven’t you raised this with him?”
“I just… didn’t know how. We moved forward after Mummy died, and I know we talked when you two got engaged - Dad and I, and you and I - but then… we moved forward.”
“Tim.” Mum had completely abandoned the drying now, all her attention focused on him. “We did move forward, but we never meant for you to feel you had to leave your Mummy behind. I didn’t realize how little we talked about her, and I’m sorry for it.”
“No, it’s okay.”  He didn’t quite know how to explain that it was both a good and a sad thing. He remembered Jack coming over once about half a year after Mummy had died. He things were still everywhere, and he’d remarked that it was like a ghost lived with them. “We were all trying to figure out so many things…”
“We were, and always will be.” Mum reminded him, “but now we know, and you and Dad should talk.”
She was right, and he told her so, resuming his evening chore and assuming the conversation was over. But a sudden question rose to the front of his mind, and he surprised them both by voicing it. “Did you talk about it with your dad, how your were like your mother?”
Mum paused, evidently taken aback by the question. “I… no. We didn’t talk about that. We didn’t always talk about much at all to be perfectly honest.” Tim was going to ask more about that, but Mum quickly moved on. “I do know I took after him more strongly in colouring, and that in many other ways I looked like his mother, though he resembled his father more.”
Mum seemed lost in memory and he didn’t want to interrupt, curious about this similarity they had, her side of which he knew only in little bits and pieces.
“Ma had green eyes and coppery hair, very different from mine.” She seemed sad about that, just as he had been. “We were about the same height. I do remember people commenting on that, though I remember her as a tall woman.” She let out a small almost-laugh, “but then, I was just a child; even smaller than I am now.”
“You do have some red in your hair though,” Tim pointed out, wanting to comfort her as she had him. “A kind of brownish-red. It shows up in the light.”
“Then I’m glad of it.” She paused, looking past the stars that shone dimly through the kitchen window. “But I think much as I’m glad to carry even a bit of her in my appearance, it’s the memory of being safe in her arms I treasure most. It’s the only one I have of her that I want to remember.” Tim didn’t know the exact details of his Mum’s mum’s death - his grandmother’s death, really - but he knew it was grim, and Mum avoided talking about it. He wondered if he should press her on it. She always encouraged him to speak about his feelings, surely it would help her too?
“Mum, if you’d like… if it would help, you could remember your mummy with me. The good moments… and the sad ones.” He couldn’t look at her while saying it, afraid he’d lose his nerve.
Mum was quiet for so long he worried he’d truly upset her, but just as he was about to apologize, she spoke.
“If it would help you, then of course I will.” Her words were measured.
Tim shut off the tap and turned his full attention to her, mimicking her own tactics. “You already help me with my grief, all the time. What I meant was that I’d do the same for you.”
The blank, distantness of her guarded expression softened instantly, and he made a conscious effort to etch the transition firmly in his mind, trying to capture the movement like a video. Mum wrapped her arms around him. “I love you very much, Tim.”
He tried to do the same with her embrace, fixing it in his sensory memory. How many of these moments had he already taken for granted with her and Dad, in spite of his experience with loss? “I love you too, Mum”
She finally broke away, rubbing his shoulders gently to offset the firmness of her words. “I’d prefer not to tell you about my mother’s death. It may sound strange, but I’d prefer that, as she was never able to meet her grandchildren, you three only know the happier parts of her life. Don’t worry that I’m keeping it bottled up,” she said, anticipating his protest, “I have talked to your father about it.” She searched his face, assessing his reaction. “But if you ever feel the need to know about it, do you promise you’ll ask?”
“I promise. And I do understand that,” he reassured her. “When people do talk about Mummy, they talk about her illness a lot, and I don’t want that to be all people remember of her.”
Mum stared past him for a moment, evidently coming up with a plan. He let a small smile slip onto his face. That was definitely a look he wouldn’t forget.
Plan concocted, Mum’s eyes refocused on his. “Would you like to start a little scrapbook about her? We can put all of the photos of her in there, and yours and Dad’s and Granny Parker’s memories of her.”
Tim’s vision blurred at the suggestion. “I’d like that.”
“Would you be alright with that?” Shelagh asked. She and Patrick lay abed, her relaying her conversation with Tim as he ran his fingers lazily up and down her spine.
“Of course.” He murmured into her hair. “That was a very clever suggestion, my Love.” He was always moved by her willingness to care for Marianne’s memory. It was a hard thing to do, he assumed, to engage with the memory of the woman who had once been in the same roles as you; who had been loved and lost by those you loved. Yet she never shied away from it. She was always there to support him and Timothy whenever that grief crept up on them. She did it out of love for them, yet he knew she did it for Marianne as well; for the woman who’d died young and lost so much. It was yet another way in which Shelagh was truly incredible. He didn’t think he would ever be able to express just how deeply he loved her big heart, though he’d often tried. Instead he just hugged her closer, knowing she would guess where his thoughts had wandered.
She squeezed back, communicating her understanding, but there was something else still on her mind.
“Patrick, do you think Angela will come to feel sad that she looks like us?” She asked quietly.
He was alarmed by her strange question. “Why would she?” Where did that come from?
She shifted on his chest, trying to gather her thoughts. “It’s only… Tim was sad that he couldn’t remember how he looked like his Mummy, and I’ve always been a bit sad I didn’t resemble mine more. What if Angela comes to wish she could look in the mirror and have a clearer idea of what her birth parents must have looked like, instead of seeing us reflected back at her? It is the only thing she has of them, after all.”
Patrick took his time answering. He was as new to this as she was, both having been raised by their own birth parents, and therefore in the dark as to Angela’s potential future feelings about her own family situation. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but somehow he felt Shelagh’s fear might be unfounded.
“I think you may be comparing apples to oranges my love.” He said gently. “Angela may well want to know her birth parents, or at least her birth mother -“
“And we did say we would be supportive if she wanted to pursue that.” Shelagh interjected. “I’m not reneging that.”
Patrick traced broader patterns along her arms and back, knowing it soothed her. “Nor am I, Shelagh, I just meant that her connection to them is only biological. You and Tim, on the other hand, are longing for a connection to a mother you loved and lost. You both want to hold on to them however you can, and physical resemblance is one way to do that. The most obvious way, perhaps, especially for you, given how few ways you have to remember her.”
He felt the tension leave his wife’s body and knew he was right, or at least as right as they could currently know.
She pulled his face down to hers, kissing him deeply in thanks.
“I’m very glad we started talking, Patrick,” she said, breaking the kiss.
He chuckled, remembering the conversation they’d had when they finally overcame the pain of their lack of communication before the adoption interview that now seemed so long ago, but had altered their lives so profoundly. He’d been such a different man before he’d let her into every corner of his heart. “So am I, my love. I am so incredibly glad.”
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bibleversestoliveby · 6 years ago
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Motivational & Spiritual Quotes for Fitness
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spiritual quotes As each day passes by, we wonder what happens next. Then time flies by, we wonder what how far we have come in life. Furthermore, as years passes by, we wonder what we have accomplished. In addition, everyday we think of what we can or could do to better our previous day and act upon it. So sometimes in life, it's good to take a step back, relax and think of how one can become even better. From personal experience, I have come to realize the important spiritual development as well as getting the right motivation. So now lets take a look at some of the best spiritual quotes, motivational quotes that would help us to connect with our inner self.
Inspiring Quotes from Influential Christians
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spiritual quotes “Life is wasted if we do not grasp the glory of the cross, cherish it for the treasure that it is, and cleave to it as the highest price of every pleasure and the deepest comfort in every pain. What was once foolishness to us—a crucified God—must become our wisdom and our power and our only boast in this world.” –John Piper “God never said that the journey would be easy, but He did say that the arrival would be worthwhile” – Max Lucado “God will meet you where you are in order to take you where He wants you to go.”  –Tony Evans “Let God’s promises shine on your problems.” –Corrie ten Boom “Remember who you are. Don’t compromise for anyone, for any reason. You are a child of the Almighty God. Live that truth.” –Lysa Terkeurst “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us”- Augustine “You are the only Bible some unbelievers will ever read.” –John MacArthur “Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.” –Francis Chan “God’s work done in God’s way will never lack God’s supplies.” –Hudson Taylor "If God is your partner, make your plans BIG!" –D.L. Moody “If you can’t fly, then run, If you can’t run, then walk, If you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.” –Martin Luther King Jr. “We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face...we must do that which we think we cannot."  –Eleanor Roosevelt “Christ literally walked in our shoes.” –Tim Keller “There is no one who is insignificant in the purpose of God.” –Alistair Begg “He who lays up treasures on earth spends his life backing away from his treasures. To him, death is loss. He who lays up treasures in heaven looks forward to eternity; he’s moving daily toward his treasures. To him, death is gain.” –Randy Alcorn “God does not give us everything we want, but He does fulfill His promises, leading us along the best and straightest paths to Himself.” –Dietrich Bonhoeffer "If you believe in a God who controls the big things, you have to believe in a God who controls the little things.  It is we, of course, to whom things look 'little' or 'big'." –Elisabeth Elliot "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose." –Jim Elliot “Always, everywhere God is present, and always He seeks to discover Himself to each one” –A.W.Tozer
Top Spiritual Quotes Ever
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spiritual quotes It is in our wild nature that we best recover from our un-nature, our spirituality. –Friedrich Nietzsche I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer. –Martin Luther God will not look you over for medals, degrees or diplomas but for scars. –Elbert Hubbard If a man is to live, he must be all alive, body, soul, mind, heart, spirit. –Thomas Merton The spiritual life does not remove us from the world but leads us deeper into it. –Henri J.M. Nouwen At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it. –Thich Nhat Hanh The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and the acceptance of love. –Marianne Williamson He who is filled with love is filled with God himself. –Saint Augustine
Simple Spiritual Quotes
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spiritual quotes Forever is composed of nows. –Emily Dickinson I am realistic – I expect miracles. –Wayne Dyer Let the breath lead the way. –Sharon Salzberg Do anything, but let it produce joy. –Walt Whitman Let the measure of time be spiritual, not mechanical. –Ralph Waldo Emerson It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. –Francis of Assisi For it is in giving that we receive. –Francis of Assisi Spiritual progress is like a detoxification. –Marianne Williamson Reach for a thought that feels better. –Abraham Hicks God finds himself by creating. –Rabindranath Tagore
Faith, Hope, Patient Biblical Quotes
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spiritual quotes God loves me when I sing. God respects me when I work. –Rabindranath Tagore Faith, hope, love, and insight are the highest achievements of human effort. –Carl Jung Spirituality is fearlessness. It is a way of looking boldly at this life we have been given, here, now, on earth, as this human being. –Elizabeth Lesser To me, faith means not worrying. –John Dewey Pray, and let God worry. –Martin Luther Faith is God’s work within us. –Thomas Aquinas Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness. –Desmond Tutu What you are is God’s gift to you, what you become is your gift to God. –Hans Urs von Balthasar If prayer is you talking to God, then intuition is God talking to you. –Wayne Dyer Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. –1 Corinthians 13:4-7 God enters by a private door into every individual. –Ralph Waldo Emerson Our prayers are answered not when we are given what we ask, but when we are challenged to be what we can be. –Morris Adler These are some of the best motivational quotes and spiritual quotes we have gathered from the internet and we hope it had a difference to you especially in your fitness goals, as well as inspired you to seek God the more. So please check back for more additional amazing quotes. Read the full article
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mg-bsl381 · 8 years ago
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On the Move
The Turners are running out of space in the flat but moving is not the easy decision Shelagh thought it would be...
I did write a part two for this but recent information has made it more of an AU addition.  If you would like to read it, let me know.
I hope you like this.
On the Move
Shelagh noticed the piles of stuff in the hallway when she returned from St Cuthbert’s.  As she was still on bed rest there was nothing she could do about it.  She hadn’t noticed before but with four of them living in the flat, they were running out of space.  Before too long there would be five of them and the flat would be bursting at the seams.  She knew the obvious solution to the problem but this flat was not just bricks and mortar it was a home.  
The flat was the only home Timothy had known.  Patrick had once told her that he’d moved here when he first came to Poplar and never felt the need to move.  It was close to the surgery as they were in another part of the same building.  This had also been home to Marianne and now it was Shelagh’s home.  Shelagh and Patrick had never had a home that was theirs alone.  First Patrick had lived in the flat, then Marianne, then Timothy and so it was for many years.  Then it was just Patrick and Timothy until Shelagh herself joined them.  Angela made them a family of four.  With only two bedrooms, they were going to run out of space sooner or later.  
Before Patrick and Shelagh went to South Africa, Angela had been in their room which was alright but not ideal.  While they were at Granny Parker’s both children had shared a room, which helped Angela adjust to their absence.  Shelagh had been starting to feel the effects of early pregnancy when they returned, although she hadn’t realised it at the time.  Because of Shelagh’s sickness and disturbed sleep they decided to leave Angela and Timothy together temporarily.  That was now six months ago and Angela was still in Timothy’s room. Timothy was getting frustrated by his little sister messing up his things and understandably so.  
The arrival of the new baby would put added pressure on them all, if they didn’t find a workable solution for the bedrooms.  The obvious solution was to move to a bigger place.  However with Shelagh on bedrest there was nothing she could do.  Although it was the obvious solution, a part of Shelagh was reluctant.  This was her home.  This was the place she had come to after the bomb evacuation.  It was her place of safety.  Here she had left Sister Bernadette well and truly behind and had become Shelagh Turner.  She had learnt to love and be loved in return.  Some of her most treasured memories had taken place within the walls of the flat.
Things started to come to a head when Timothy went back to school.  He kept losing things or things were being lost for him.  One day it was his cricket bat when Shelagh was resting on the sofa.  By the time Shelagh was up and about and desperate to see something other than the four walls of the flat, it was his swimming trunks.  His frustrations about not being able to find things and his annoyance with Angela made Shelagh realise that something had to be done and soon.  Patrick clearly wasn’t ready to have a conversation about moving house.  So he deflected from one difficult subject to another and agreed that she was well enough to return to work.
Shelagh returned to nursing duties but according to Patrick’s wishes nothing strenuous.  She had her work cut out re-organising the filing system.  Fred had asked her if she could find a suitable home for young cousin Reggie.  It gave Shelagh something to do but her mind needed to be active.  She was full of energy and needed occupation.  Weeks on bedrest had dulled her mind and she wanted to do something, anything but under Patrick’s watchful eye, there wasn’t much she could do.  She had been shopping to buy some maternity dresses as the only things she had that fitted was her nightdress and her maternity nurse’s uniform.  Her bump that had been tiny when she was admitted to St Cuthbert’s had grown considerably.  She found two dresses both blue, one with a small white motif and a large bow detail and the other a sleeveless one with a pattern that reminded her of the sea.  
One day she was out and about in Poplar when something caught her eye.  It was an advertisement for a new housing development.  She smiled to herself.  This was what she’d been looking for.  A solution to their increasingly cramped flat and a project to get stuck into.  Shelagh knew if she left it to Patrick, they would never move.  He was too busy with work and he liked the flat.  She liked the flat but it was no longer fit for purpose.  It didn’t really work now Angela was getting bigger, would work even less with the new baby and what would happen if they were blessed with another baby.  Shelagh made a mental note of the phone number and as she walked away she took one last look at the poster.  
Once she got home she contacted the agent and asked if they could send her a brochure about the new development.  When it arrived she read it thoroughly and although the colour pictures were tempting, she noted that the houses weren’t big enough for their needs.  The next step was the “property for sale” section of the local paper.  The first column was disappointing but she found several that had potential.  All of them were close to where they were living now.  Patrick would struggle if he was too far from the surgery and Shelagh knew that if they were too far away it would be an even bigger upheaval for them, especially Timothy.  
There was one problem in Shelagh’s mind.  How was she going to take a peek at the outsides of her shortlist without alerting Patrick?  He would be worried if she disappeared for hours without explanation, while she walked around the area.  Instead she enlisted the help of Nurse Crane.  Once she understood the nature of the mission, Nurse Crane was more than happy to oblige.  They drove around the streets and looked at the roads and the houses.  The first few were disappointing.  The houses had potential but the road wasn’t very nice or the road was lovely and the house was not suitable.  
Shelagh was feeling disheartened when they pulled into a long road.  All the houses were similar and then she spotted the one with the “For Sale” board that looked totally different.  It intrigued her.  It was unusual but it looked enormous.  There was something about the house that drew her to it.  Nurse Crane pointed out another house further down the street on the opposite side of the road, that one was also different from all the others.  It wasn’t the same style as this one but it too was newer than all the rest.  Suddenly Shelagh realised why these two houses were so different, bomb damage from the war.  These newer houses were replacements from ones lost in the Blitz.  Shelagh noticed that the agent was the same one from the poster.  She needed to arrange a viewing but she wanted Patrick with her.  Now all she had to do was persuade him it was a good idea.  
Shelagh was excited about the house.  She had never lived in a house before.  As a child she’d lived in the flat over her father’s greengrocer’s shop.  When she was training, it was a room in the nurse’s home at the London.  Nonnatus was so big that it wasn’t really a house in the traditional sense.  Then Patrick’s, which she had been surprised to learn was a flat.   Seeing the façade, she’d always assumed it was a house.  This would be the first house she had ever lived in and it would be the first place that was just hers and Patrick’s with no echoes of his past life.  As much as she loved the flat, it wasn’t her choice of decoration.  The furniture wasn’t her choice, although she had grown very attached to the gold sofa.  Only the bed she and Patrick slept in was new as he’d bought it especially for them when they got married.
Shelagh couldn’t hide her excitement when Patrick got home that evening.  All through dinner, he watched her with a puzzled look on his face.  After the washing up was done, Patrick sat in his favourite armchair and beckoned for Shelagh to join him.  She snuggled on his lap, leaning her head against his chest.  He asked her what had happened that day.  Shelagh explained that she’d had an idea and with Nurse Crane’s help, she’d gone to look at possibilities.  Patrick looked totally confused until she clarified that it was houses she was talking about.  Shelagh told him she found one that she thought had potential but she had only looked at the outside.  She could see him wavering but then the phone rang and he lifted her off his knee and went to answer it.  She heard a thud and a loud exclamation of annoyance before Patrick picked up the phone.  He promised he would think about it while he was out on call.  
The following day, between Patrick’s rounds, the two of them went for a drive.  Shelagh was unsure of where they were going until they turned into the road with the house.  Shelagh was overflowing with excitement when they pulled up into the driveway.  A man stepped out of the house and shook their hands.  The estate agent explained that the house was empty as the owners had moved abroad with work and wanted a quick sale to tie up things in England.  He showed them around the house and then let them wander on their own.  Shelagh was over the moon, the house was even better on the inside.  It was large with enough bedrooms for all of them.  The spacious rooms felt really homely and Shelagh knew she had found her perfect house.  All she needed to do was to convince Patrick.  Her husband was very quiet and thoughtful, leaving Shelagh to ask endless questions.  
After the agent left, they stood on the doorstep and looked around them.   Shelagh couldn’t help but enthuse about the garden.  She knew she shouldn’t try to pressurise Patrick into making a decision but she felt in her heart that this was their house.   Shelagh felt her heart sink and her face fall when Patrick mentioned how lost their furniture would be in the house.  She couldn’t hide her disappointment until she noticed Patrick’s face wavering.  He conceded that they could fill a few rooms and see how things went from there.  Shelagh saw Patrick’s face light up in a smile and she knew that this would be their home.  She smiled, laughing with joy and leapt into his embrace.  She felt his happiness as they hugged and although it would be hard to leave the flat and its past behind, this house was their future.  They couldn’t stay outside the house all afternoon so with smiles still bright upon their faces, they walked together hand in hand down the path.  
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bifacialler · 8 years ago
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Butterfly Bog - Forsythia (Anticipation)
[Edit: you might be very confused by this. So am I. I don’t remembered when this prompt appeared in my mail box, and I don’t remember when I started writing this. Supposed to be this big thing, but I couldn’t. sorry ((( ]
Dear Tangy, I think I just wrote a Royal Night Out AU for your It Takes Two. Hope you forgive me for the name-pasting and things.
The war ends at midnight.
Officially.
The war officially ends at midnight, followed by her father tenuous speech on the radio, an address to the nation that can’t wait, because for their people, the war is already over, drowned in the sparks of champaign poured into tall glasses, drowned in a victorious song pouring from every open mouth on every street corner, drowned in color and light a cheer that will be their capital, because today, at midnight, no one will sleep.
Today, at midnight, the war ends.
For Dawn, the true daughter of her nation, the war already ended. It was blown away by the flip of the fancy lifestyle magazine their handmaidens smuggled into the castle and hid under the white sheets thrown over everything - sofas, chairs, bookcases, her old piano that will require dusting and tuning when the morning will come and they will unravel it and try to put everything in order: chairs, sofas, bookcases. A kingdom. Their lives. Dawn already dug hers out though (Dawn has no patience and it is un-princess-like, unlike Marianne, look at Marianne, Marianne takes the future queen business seriously) and the colored pages glide through her excited lively fingers as they both lean over it, barely breathing (because Marianne’s life in under white sheets and Dawn’s is full of fancy ladies in all the dresses Dawn will ask for the moment the war ends), as Dawn reads about the upcoming celebration like it’s not going to happen right here, behind the very gates of their home, but some where far off, like Birog, for example.
What Marianne knows, though, is that the pleading look in her sister’s eye is not going to bring them any good.
«Dawn, you know what they’ll say,» she shakes in return, as if there is even a smallest chance of them being anywhere but here this evening. «Father will never let us go.»
«At least try!» Dawn sighs, as if the weight of their whole royal bloodline descends on her shoulders, falling back on the covers, and the magazine flies over her head in an arch of exasperation, landing over the other side of the bed. It’s immediately picked up, though, carefully dusted, fingertips barely brushing the cover, and Marianne can’t help but smile: each finds the treasures of their own, even if they might be someone else’s nothing. «Please?»
Marianne can imagine it already: her mother’s perm, in hard defined waves of deep chocolate, roofing over her eyes and sharply arched eyebrows, her father’s tired moustache, so fashionably out of style but there is nothing three of them could do about it, and the glaring joy of the crowd behind the window, careless, buzzing in anticipation of the life to come, of the new world about to be build right there, right before their eyes, with their own hands.
«Please? If we don’t try now, we’ll never get another chance.»
Dawn’s eyes bore into her, light, crystal clear and Polyanthus blue, full of something Marianne felt she is born without - youthful lighthearted enchantment, so fragile and beautiful and rare in their state of life that in a moment of weakness, Marianne looks back, clenches her teeth with a softest of painful cringes, and gives up.
«Alright, I’ll try,» she winces. «Can’t promise more.»
And it’s good enough, as she is swiped into an embrace that is surprisingly stopping for a tender little thing. «Thank you, thank you! Oh, I swear, I’ll get you anything you want, I’ll-«
Her sister pauses and briskly looks up and down.
«I’ll pick out your dress.»
«Dawn, just because I’ll ask, it doesn’t mean they’ll let us go.»
And the mischievous glint comes back.
«I have faith.»
——
Dawn has faith, and it seems like somehow that becomes a defining factor, as they stand before their parents, her father’s speech dying a tangled death in his salt’n’pepper beard.
«Marianne-« he starts, as mother cuts through with her lips perfectly rose and her blouse perfectly in order. «Out of question.»
«Mother, it’s as much of our celebration what everybody else’s,» she wrings her hands before she can stop herself, before she remembers to tuck them behind her back, straightening the uniform that fits her like a glove - unlike all the other uniforms, no one is as good as royal seamstresses when it come to fitting you into things, be it an officer’s camisole or Dawn’s fashionable dress-suits - as she folds her hands behind her back.
«Yes,» her mother nods, and seated in the chair, elegantly crossed legs tucked under the chair but not quite, and speaks in a melodic semi-whisper that is a habit one gets from leaving in a place too big and too empty and full of ringing echoes. «And that is why the two on your will spend it here, with your family and friends.»
«If by «friends» you mean the duke’s son-"
«As well as the duke himself, and the duchess, and your cousins, our dear Prime Minister and his wife- Did you prepare your remarks, Mari?»
Mari. Oh how she hates it. «Yes, Mother.»
Dawn nudges her with her elbow and shoots her a pleading jittery look.
«Good,» for a moment her mother’s mouth twists into something akin to a smirk. «And George,» she points her hand to their father in a gesture that is the closest to familiarity that she ever had. «The people from National Television will be here at eight. Do you think you speech will be ready by then?»
«Under your rigorous control - how can it not be?» he smiles in return, something softer and kinder, something intimate even if concealed under a think layer of facial hair that no one asked for. «I just hope that the people feel it too."
Marianne can understand them - it was a difficult time for them, both as rulers and spouses, and despite what the masses though, it never got easier, no matter the level of self-discipline and awareness, no matter, peace or war, and it will only get harder when the morning comes.
It will only get harder, and lives will change, and in this moment, in these fifteen hours until next morning, Marianne finally gets it, that this is really the only chance she’ll ever get.
«Yes, but how would you know?» she says, and her arms find their way around her to settle on her hips. «How would you know if the people will feel it? Love it? Hate it? You can’t trust the newspapers with that, you know how high on literary criticism they would get.»
«Mari, what are you trying to-« he mother starts, a cautious glint in her eye, but something in the way father raises his hand makes her pause.
«Go on, dear,» he bows his head in encouragement.
In that moment, Marianne knows she got him, and if she pushes just a tiny bit more, she wouldn’t even need to get mother - he will do it for her. By her side, Dawn fumbles with a brooch on her jacket, trying with all her might not to snigger with glee, but it comes through in tiniest huffs and giggles.
Dawn has faith, not just Marianne and her abilities, but in the whole wide world, and it pays her back, with lucky chances that she never misses. And if this lucky chance is all Dawn’s doing, than who is Marianne to let it go to waste. So she makes one last push.
«What I’m saying is this: father, do you trust me?»
«Of course, darling!»
«Then you would know that won’t lie to you.»
«This is a historical day, a first of a new world,» her hands travel before her, like wings of a swan. «The world that I will one day rule. So let me hear what people say. So that we could build this world with them.»
Looking to her father’s face, Marianne can only guess what a tenuous battle unfolds in his mind, fuelled by her mother’s disbelieving glare and Dawn’s pleadingly chewed lip.
«Yes, alright,» he says at the end of it, and her sister explodes in a giggling fit. «But on one condition.»
----
«This is so… unfair.»
They are stuffed in a car, a large black number send directly from London, tis the fashion, and her sister keeps huffing non stop for the past two hours - which didn’t stop her from raiding the lock-up of their closet and dragging Marianne in, with all the babbling excitement that surfaces when she comes close to anything with sparkles to it.
Marianne thinks she should be grateful, really, because she ends up in a rather tame number (by her sister’s standards): knee length skirt, off the shoulder straps, sensible fashionable heels. All in sophisticated burgundy. Not a young girl’s colour, but she is not really a young girl. Not in her head.
Two of he father’s personal guard - Russell and... Grand, if she is correct - are seated begrudgingly before them, and Dawn flirts with them off-handedly, as a habit, because even if there are things that dissatisfy her, she would never show. It is safe, her half-open eyes holding all the secrets of their family behind the walls of perfect shining smiles and ringing laughs. Unlike Marianne, she makes it look easy to be a public figure. 
Dawn is charismatic and people love her.
The dark tint of the car’s glass throws a sombre veil over the crowd behind. The cover of the night, with light bugs of candles and lighters, their sparks reflecting of wine bottles and champagne glasses, turns the ride into a kind of a pilgrimage, a trip into the underworld, a journey through a sacred mysterium of men that exists with her, and yet so far away. It’s strange to think of them this way, especially for a future Queen, strange and wrong, but she can’t help it. 
Because Marianne knows that this might be one time in her life she might witness the birth of a New World, and she ain’t gonna miss it for any deep philosophical debates with herself.
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janiklandre-blog · 8 years ago
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Saturday, April 1st, 2017
still grey outside  already 10:20 a.m.  - computer would not send an earlier message - leaves me a bit worried - yesterday came all sorts of messages about undeliverable mail and it took a while before old and older appeared and I was already getting resigned to possibly have lost it - but then it did appear - oh writing by hand - I love it - wish I had a secretary who then would post it - as beautifully as Molly has been posting - once again: janiklandre.tumblr.com  has to be entered way on top where it says https and then click enter - took me a while to learn - she double spaces, uses bigger letters, much more readable than this here - she has shown me how to do it - but - I despair - if only I was three again - really wish I could master it - Molly has been doing it faithfully - but then again - so few things in my life last - she is young, she is wonderful - but many new things in her future -
Gesine was posting in Germany - I have not heard from her, I worry - my grandson also is posting and it appears automatically on people's smart phones - still have not quite figures out what they are doing, but those of you with smart phones may be getting it automatically - probably even on my smart phone - who knows - it all is somewhat beyong me - and I wish I was writing by hand - yet thank Ken time and again for at least getting me into what I call pre school computer skills - adding wonderful dimensions to my life that I treasure.
Ten minutes gone. Yesterday - was planning on church, was planning on a few words to Marie (more and more requests on my friend, scaning of documents and what not, her daughter emailing now from Berlin requesting her mother to be taken care of - and they do) - in any event, I never made it to the church. Nerviously I called the optometrist about when I am to appear on Monday, was told a service would let me know - then complained about the $250 for the drops - the woman I was talking to "oh you don't have this insurance, that insurance" no - I don't - "I can prescribe something cheaper" - I rush to the druggist, Carmine, a sweetheart, one of the very few not in the monster entities that have taken over, replaced super markets and where you have to search for everything in masses of goods) - anyway Carmine was able to return the expensive one - antibiotics to prevent infection, four drops a day) - I had paid by credit card - it all took a while, I got $85 back - something - it was pouring rain - had to return later to pick up cheaper replacement, the present eye drops only $14 - them my friend told me the generic version is $4 - it all is such a racket -  Carmine said to me "ask Joanne at the CW" - well she is busy with all the totally helpless Maries - my friend had to go with Francesca frrom Guatemala to the eye doctor to translate - well - I already realized years ago that I basically fall into the category who should be helping all the totally helpless - and I don't mind doing some of it - but then I realized that at the CW "they" consider that their domain - I can wash dishes. We live in a totally crazy world.
Rain was pouring all day yesterday - flooding everywhere - because all our money is spent on wars - no money for what is called infrastructure - like providing drainage systems - or something sane, everything - the other the "fast" Amtrak called Acella, between Washington and Boston, derailed side swiping a commuter train - all trains stopped for hours - all our public transportation a sad joke - and by now not even money to keep many roads in shape - the bus I take in NY state shaking like crazy.
So. I find hardly the time to read the NYT  New York Times - $2.50 a copy on weekdays - $6 on Sunday - the smart know how to use their tablets and pay $100 a year vs the $600 I end up spending - only my sweet, smart grandson said: Grandma, you allow yourself so few luxuries - you love the feel of paper in the morning - of course it alsowould be cheaper if I had a subscription - not in my type of housing. - it is amazing that she still can hop on a plane and come to New York - in pouring rain come to the meeting - she is the daughter of a French general - the French have a term: chnapeau - all my respect - she loves New York - even though she never became a citizen here - and I watched 
Luckily there still is so much other people spend money on that I don't - all my life, no matter how little I had, I always saved a few dollars and never have borrowed a cent.
Still, other than my breakfast muesli I ate little yesterday that was reasonable - find it harder to find food that is heaalthy and also tasty - as I have often said - I would do well with a staff - a secretary, a cook, a butler, a chauffeur, a gardner for the garden I would love to have, a trainer, a companion - there are people who do have staffs and then manage to put out books that make them rich, famous and respected. Dostoyevski hand wrote at the kitchen table, surrounded by noise - much of his writing for newspapers in continuation, every night a deadline - so - there are many styles.
I do want to mention what a German friend just told me on the phone about her rich brother in Frankfurt : 17 families with RV's - recreactional vehicles where you can live, plan to form a caravan and drive to China via Russia and back via India - a six months journey. Now, how is that?
Well, yesterday before I knew it it was close to seven, my friend who had promised to come earlier rang the bell - on Friday's the CW has a meeting - talks, lectures, films - at times very interesting, a times less so - CW style, no money is ever asked, some make contributions in a little basket - yesterday a woman who spent five years researching and publishing a book about four nuns who were murdered in El Salvador, I believe 30 years ago - I already have heard a lot about them and also have seen a movie and yes, they should be commemorated - and yes - with pouring rain few people would come - so I went -the speaker was not the greatest, I could not get my mind on it, sat in the back, anxious to leave, then I saw French Christine and then I saw her ready to leave - she could not get her mind on it either, so I followed her, the rain was still pouring, she said she was very tired, looked very tired, still wanted to walk to East 9th (CW on 3rd) to catch a taxi to go to West 9th where she was staying with a friend - so I said I would go with her, we ran, through the deluge - she still does have her apartment on the 5th floor, steep stairs but there were problems there - today she said ahe would move there - she is in new york for two weeks - when she was about to leave Paris her doctor called and said a suspicious growth on her kidney - too much cancer in her body - and I do want to take back here all I said about her earlier - she loves New York, she is the daaughter of a French general - and to hop on a plane and fly to New York, come to a meeting in pouring rain - there was a cab on 9th street and I got her to grab it - old and older, often painful to watch.
It's 11:30 - I should look for something reasonable to eat - not sure yet what the day will bring - there are my guests but mostly they want to be by themselves - when they appear the Lebanese talks a lot - his life absolutely and totally has nothing in common with my life - he too has heaalth problems and other problems that are not my problems - he is a sweet and generous man - and I wish I had them better to offer than my noisy, overheated room - still at this point there is no room to find in nyc for less than $150 a night - in the hotels next to me they run into the hundreds - 
And I too am running out of steam here. Am nervous about the op - prepared for the worst as far as costs will go. Many tell me: I paid nothing - and yes, medicaid for which I am no longer eligible pays a lot more than medicare - I did consider doing it in Amherst that turned out to be too complicated - after the op you have to see the doctor three times - and then there will be the second on April 17 and I don't know yet who will help with that. I do remember telling my mother as she was getting old - you have to pay for help. But as I too am finding out - good paid help is hard to find - I'm lucky for Molly to snow into my life for a while - and yes - now I also do remember what made me tired yesterday afternoon - Molly came at 1:30 - when I have been falling asleep these days - I did have the idea of cleaning up my contact list - but soon saw how tedious that is - still she maneuvers the computer with such ease and skill - her father is an internet technician - alas I only can marvel - and mourn my old age, my technophobia and my just about non existant learning skills - just getting with this here smart phone lying next to me where I am - a small wonder. The techno world has taken such a leap - me no longer able to leap with it. And, it is getting worse. Reading about A.I. = artificial intelligence, robots - makes my head spin - perhaps I should start hording pencils and paper - soon they may become hard to find. Sending a snail mail letter already takes me weeks - many post offices closing - and so it goes. Noon. Time for a proper meal in company - I am afraid, no proper meal, no company. But then - perhaps  hope this will send  - adios  Marianne
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bibleversestoliveby · 6 years ago
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Motivational & Spiritual Quotes for Fitness
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spiritual quotes As each day passes by, we wonder what happens next. Then time flies by, we wonder what how far we have come in life. Furthermore, as years passes by, we wonder what we have accomplished. In addition, everyday we think of what we can or could do to better our previous day and act upon it. So sometimes in life, it's good to take a step back, relax and think of how one can become even better. From personal experience, I have come to realize the important spiritual development as well as getting the right motivation. So now lets take a look at some of the best spiritual quotes, motivational quotes that would help us to connect with our inner self.
Inspiring Quotes from Influential Christians
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spiritual quotes “Life is wasted if we do not grasp the glory of the cross, cherish it for the treasure that it is, and cleave to it as the highest price of every pleasure and the deepest comfort in every pain. What was once foolishness to us—a crucified God—must become our wisdom and our power and our only boast in this world.” –John Piper “God never said that the journey would be easy, but He did say that the arrival would be worthwhile” – Max Lucado “God will meet you where you are in order to take you where He wants you to go.”  –Tony Evans “Let God’s promises shine on your problems.” –Corrie ten Boom “Remember who you are. Don’t compromise for anyone, for any reason. You are a child of the Almighty God. Live that truth.” –Lysa Terkeurst “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us”- Augustine “You are the only Bible some unbelievers will ever read.” –John MacArthur “Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.” –Francis Chan “God’s work done in God’s way will never lack God’s supplies.” –Hudson Taylor "If God is your partner, make your plans BIG!" –D.L. Moody “If you can’t fly, then run, If you can’t run, then walk, If you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.” –Martin Luther King Jr. “We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face...we must do that which we think we cannot."  –Eleanor Roosevelt “Christ literally walked in our shoes.” –Tim Keller “There is no one who is insignificant in the purpose of God.” –Alistair Begg “He who lays up treasures on earth spends his life backing away from his treasures. To him, death is loss. He who lays up treasures in heaven looks forward to eternity; he’s moving daily toward his treasures. To him, death is gain.” –Randy Alcorn “God does not give us everything we want, but He does fulfill His promises, leading us along the best and straightest paths to Himself.” –Dietrich Bonhoeffer "If you believe in a God who controls the big things, you have to believe in a God who controls the little things.  It is we, of course, to whom things look 'little' or 'big'." –Elisabeth Elliot "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose." –Jim Elliot “Always, everywhere God is present, and always He seeks to discover Himself to each one” –A.W.Tozer
Top Spiritual Quotes Ever
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spiritual quotes It is in our wild nature that we best recover from our un-nature, our spirituality. –Friedrich Nietzsche I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer. –Martin Luther God will not look you over for medals, degrees or diplomas but for scars. –Elbert Hubbard If a man is to live, he must be all alive, body, soul, mind, heart, spirit. –Thomas Merton The spiritual life does not remove us from the world but leads us deeper into it. –Henri J.M. Nouwen At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it. –Thich Nhat Hanh The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and the acceptance of love. –Marianne Williamson He who is filled with love is filled with God himself. –Saint Augustine
Simple Spiritual Quotes
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spiritual quotes Forever is composed of nows. –Emily Dickinson I am realistic – I expect miracles. –Wayne Dyer Let the breath lead the way. –Sharon Salzberg Do anything, but let it produce joy. –Walt Whitman Let the measure of time be spiritual, not mechanical. –Ralph Waldo Emerson It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. –Francis of Assisi For it is in giving that we receive. –Francis of Assisi Spiritual progress is like a detoxification. –Marianne Williamson Reach for a thought that feels better. –Abraham Hicks God finds himself by creating. –Rabindranath Tagore
Faith, Hope, Patient Biblical Quotes
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spiritual quotes God loves me when I sing. God respects me when I work. –Rabindranath Tagore Faith, hope, love, and insight are the highest achievements of human effort. –Carl Jung Spirituality is fearlessness. It is a way of looking boldly at this life we have been given, here, now, on earth, as this human being. –Elizabeth Lesser To me, faith means not worrying. –John Dewey Pray, and let God worry. –Martin Luther Faith is God’s work within us. –Thomas Aquinas Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness. –Desmond Tutu What you are is God’s gift to you, what you become is your gift to God. –Hans Urs von Balthasar If prayer is you talking to God, then intuition is God talking to you. –Wayne Dyer Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. –1 Corinthians 13:4-7 God enters by a private door into every individual. –Ralph Waldo Emerson Our prayers are answered not when we are given what we ask, but when we are challenged to be what we can be. –Morris Adler These are some of the best motivational quotes and spiritual quotes we have gathered from the internet and we hope it had a difference to you especially in your fitness goals, as well as inspired you to seek God the more. So please check back for more additional amazing quotes. Read the full article
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