#i was thinking about how magnificent is a synonym for beautiful

[kingorqueenofnarnia]

High King Peter is Magnificent.

They say that his hair is spun from the purest gold from the holy lands of the Emperor Beyond the Sea, that his eyes are a brighter, more potent blue than any sapphire ever mined and polished, that his lips are soft and pink like the first rosebud of True Spring. They whisper of the ribbons and flowers woven into his hair and the delicate golden crown on an equally golden head, of the gentle smiles that curl over his plush lips and the crinkles around his eyes when he laughs loud and joyful.

They talk of his beauty in reverent tones, sing praises and erect shrines to honour him, and they call him Magnificent.

They don't speak of how the roses and ribbons in his hair are the exact colour of spilled blood, dark red like the paint he smears across his eyes when riding to war. They don't speak of how his gaze carries the weight of the Great Ocean— a vast, open, endless sea that swallows everything in its path, ruthless and without mercy. They don't speak of how his lips are bitten and chapped, curved up into smiles that should appear soft but are more a baring of sharp fangs teeth than anything else. They don't speak of his battle cries, loud enough to make the very earth beneath their feet tremble.

They deliberately don't speak of how Beauty is sometimes described as Terrifying, how Angels are feared by all that lay eyes upon them, about how Celestials are the farthest from Human one can get without losing the human form.

Long Live High King Peter the Magnificent, God amongst Mortals.

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "do I like you? is that even a question?"

you like me, don't you?

heartslabyul : savanaclaw : octavinelle : scarabia : pomefiore : ignihyde : diasomnia :

"why? are you displeased about such a thing?" vil voices. there's nothing really that would discern any sort of negative intent towards you in his face other than pure beauty and of course. his classic raise of the brow, even such a simple action looks magnificent on him.

if there's anything you know about vil it's that he's very dedicated, loyal. he's a lot of things; beautiful, strong, smart, any synonym of the word 'perfect' might suit him as better. but he certainly isn't a liar, and his words clearly imply no objection to your cheeky statement.

you bite back a smile of your own. "of course not. what about you?" at the expense of awkwardness you unconsciously look away. shyly if you'd admit, but you won't because well.. it is embarrassing for you to admit that you are embarrassed.

this is going a lot better than you expected.

he hums. "not at all. I'm delighted to hear that you seem to be happy about my response yourself." oh wow even the way he speaks is captivating. how did you get such a guy to reciprocate your feelings?

"so... dinner?"

he nods. "dinner. I'll have rook— no. I'll pick you up myself."

to think a queen would willingly go to someone else instead of the other way around.

—

"oh my my! was I being too obvious mon trésor?"

for a hunter it seems like rook isn't even aware of his practically silent, but also vibrating presence. perhaps it is his eccentric nature that made you stick to him, or the way he's pleasantly smooth with his words.

he usually isn't flirting but people would get the wrong idea from his honest compliments. it immensely suprised you the first time he literally popped up from nowhere and starting babbling about how positively charming your new hair cut was.

meanwhile you were fixing your hair out of habit, awed at his perspective nature. you only trimmed it a few inches, how come he noticed?

even at the most random times you'd recall the times his clear messages, even he didn't pop out from a bush to give vil flowers. orrrr... maybe he did but you don't think vil would appreciate rook ruining the wildlife so maybe that's why he doesn't do it..?

but still. it's a given fact that he makes you feel special.

you release a breathy sigh. "oh rook.. you have no idea." how does he not know how obvious he was being?

—

"is this a joke or somethin'? ya better now be messin' with me." epel immediately burts into a mix of flustered, determined shouts. there's a glimmering hope in his eyes that you wouldn't dare to diminish.

you slap him on the head and whisper frivolously. "epel! mind the way you're speaking.. vil is like—" you scan the surroundings, quickly finding your target to your horror. "—on the other side of the courtyard!"

he gives you an aggressive look. "who cares?! do you really?!" he shakes you with anticipation. everything blurs, now a headache is forming.. how did you even come to love this idiot?

a hand places itself on epel's shoulders and it's only then he flinched and freezes. "non non. epel! you must not do this to your fellows. it is improper." rook swats his hand away and pulls you a considerable distance away—far enough for epel to not completely shake the living soul out of you.

as if he wasn't scolding epel a second ago, rook's face transitions into a bright beam. "I couldn't help myself, I overheard your claims of love.. oh mon dieu!"

he.. presses the back of his palm to his forehead...

"is this like a theatrics thing?"

[ghostdrew22]

angst fic where ravenclaw!reader has thalassophobia and is playing with the water by the shore in the dark lake with the necklace draco gave her before they broke up a few years back when the new girl he’s been going out with throws the necklace into the middle of the lake in spite, and the reader cannot afford to lose it djeiwis sorry if it’s messy u dont have to do it ure uncomfyyy

Prompts:

If you die, I’m going to kill you.

Jump In || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: ANGST, a bit of swearing, panic attacks and thalassophobia mentioned. Summary: Years after breaking up with Draco you find that the last gift he gave you is still the only thing comforting you, and his new girlfriend doesn’t like that.

WORDS : 3546

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

The crescent moon outside begs for your company and you oblige, preferring to be alone than stuck in a room full of people who pity you. You lift the bottom half of your dress from the ground and sneak out of the ballroom nonchalantly, anxiety dissipating as the soft breeze comes in contact with your face.

The sound of your heels clacking against the cobblestone fills the air as you walk toward the boardwalk hanging above the lake, and it reminds you of a time when Draco would bring you down here. The lake behind the Malfoy Manor has always been subject to your fear, and you rarely ever go toward it, but tonight you’ll do almost anything to feel alone and normal for once.

The tiny ripples forming on the surface send shivers running down your spine and you look up at the sky immediately in an attempt to subdue your anxiety. A few meters away lies the ballroom, full of dignitaries and old family friends of the Malfoy’s who attend their annually ball every time without fail, and you can hear the faint sound of laughter mixed with a beautiful crescendo. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and drag your fingers up to your neck to toy with necklace lying around it, as you try to imagine that you’re anywhere else.

You’d thought that it would be easier, coming to the ball and seeing him with his new girlfriend, but it had proved to be a bigger challenge than you’d anticipated, and residual feelings that you’d been trying to stuff down for months had resurfaced like anchors being pulled up from the bottom of the sea. It reminded you of what he said that day, “I’m yours forever, even if you’re not mine.”, and the only thing that stopped you from running back into his arms was the chain hanging around your neck.

A silver chain with a midnight blue sapphire dangling on its end, worth one of your arms and a gift from the blond himself. He had given it to you as a promise, one to love you till the sun stopped rising, and at the time you had thought that it was the perfect gesture. But reality hit and you soon realized that a life with Draco Malfoy would be one filled with envy and uneasiness, and you knew then that you both deserved more.

The necklace’s monetary value reminds you that Draco belongs to a long and esteemed family line which demands attention that you cannot cope with. But the fact that it had been his proclamation of love reminds you that in order for you both to lead happy lives, you must be apart. The way it gleams beneath Chandeliers is so captivating that it always brings you back to earth; a life with Draco is inviting, but some invitations mustn’t be accepted.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

All eyes instantly fell on him the second that he appeared; sporting that notorious smile which always brought people to their knees, and a priceless suit that hugged his figure so well it made all the straight men positively envious. A true Malfoy; charming, rich, attractive, easily the whole package. You didn’t get a chance to speak with him because he was instantly preoccupied with the ramblings of his mother as she dragged him around the room with pride, showing off the son that she’d done such a good job at raising.

Draco’s life had always been politics and he’d been raised to invariably stand tall, look presentable, get good grades, converse well. You watched him in awe every time, admiring the grace and ease with which he conducted himself. But it made you wonder when he’d been taught the art of letting the spotlight go, to focus all of his attention on the one he loves instead of the search for approval. And the answer was that he hadn’t, Draco never grew out of the desire to have everyone’s praise and approval.

‘If everyone loves you, if everyone wants to either be you or be with you, then you’ve succeeded.’ He’d told you late one night after one these balls. You’d looked at him with pity, not having the heart to tell him that love and validation are not synonymous, and you’d hugged him so hard that somehow you both knew it was all coming to an end soon.

He grew up being a magnet to both jealousy and admiration, a symphony of applause being the background track to the movie of his life, and he didn’t know how to live any other way. When all you’ve ever known is lustful stares from fellow peers, stolen glances at the back of your head, and unbridled acclaim masked behind attraction, then it’s hard to put that life behind and settle for the love of only one person.

Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

He truly was magnificent though, even you couldn’t deny. Years ago, when he’d walked down the stairs in one of those clad black suits, he had met you at the bottom of the stairwell and you could’ve sworn that you were floating on cloud 9. He had smiled so brightly at the sight of you, had laughed so sweetly in the space of your ear, and fit so tightly into your side like it was a home made only for him, that you were intoxicated on the feeling of him and hadn’t noticed what was happening.

You were falling in love. You weren’t flying, no, you didn’t have wind beneath mystical wings that you’d somehow managed to grow. You were falling, and at a speed so treacherous that you didn’t even realise it was happening until it was too late. One day you were falling, and the next you were ruins buried so far into the ground that you couldn’t even tell where the earth stopped and you started.

Falling in love with him was fast, like a bullet train, but everything after was so slow that you felt as if you weren’t even moving at all.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it could never be

Promises to run away together and start a life somewhere off in a distant town.

Fingertips, laced with the narcotic effect of young love, tracing lines across the expanse of each other’s faces and trying to figure out which of the other’s features would be inherited by your children.

Dreams about a time when your lives would no longer be dictated by the paths your parents had set out for you, but instead by the spontaneity and reassurance that came with endearment.

Tastes of tea replaced instead with the taste of each other as long-forgotten tisanes made home on bedside tables because you both got lost in the haze of tenderness.

Arguments about mundane and useless concepts that would go on for longer than necessary, because he insisted on disagreeing with everything, and always ended with your acute responses.

Lives that had once lacked passion, that had once been so dull they compared to Snape’s drawling, instead replaced with all the colours that the world had to offer.

It was the perfect life, the one you two had planned.

But it was too perfect to ever be real.

You take a deep breath and unhook the necklace to observe it once more, hoping that it’ll provide some comfort for the ache in your chest.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

“Y/N.” A voice slurs behind you.

You turn with furrowed eyebrows and roll your eyes when you see who it is, “Pansy.”

“Don’t be rude.” She hisses and hiccups as she stumbles toward you, “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” You narrow your eyes at her, “Are you drunk?”

“Just a tad.” She replies as she hiccups again and finally stands before you. You watch silently as she gracefully sits on the wood below her, making sure not to create creases in her dress or fall over in her heels.

“Shouldn’t you be in there? On his arm like a trophy?” You ask, and inwardly groan when you hear how jealous you sound.

“Probably.” She shrugs and looks out into the water. “It doesn’t matter though, I’m not you.”

She looks up and into your eyes, you look away immediately. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that.”

“Yes, you do.” She states bluntly, “He told me why you left him. That was really selfish of you.”

You gasp and turn to look at her, “How dare you? You have no idea-“

“No, actually, I do.” She gets up from the ground swiftly as a fire rages in her eyes, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be like him? We’re the same, we were practically raised on the same blueprint. Despite what you think, there’s a lot more to the issue than what lays on the surface.”

“Oh and I guess you have all the answers?” You spit out with a scoff.

“I thought Ravenclaws were meant to be smart.” She shakes her head and hiccups as she turns to face the water, “Draco’s entire life has always just been this.” Pansy turns and gestures toward the Manor with a grimace.

“It’s always been about being the best in the room, just so that he can earn five seconds of approval from his parents. But you came, and you showed him more, you gave him a glimpse of what love feels like. Then, because you were scared and couldn’t hack it, you left him.” She continues and you grip the necklace tightly in anger.

“That’s not what happene-“

“How can you possibly expect him to come back to me, to this bullshit, when he’s experienced actual happiness? How is he supposed to come back from you?” She finally turns to face you and you hear a slight crack in her voice with the last words, “I love him so much and if I could make him half as happy as you do then I would.”

“You can.” You breathe out shakily, “If you two try a little more then you’ll realise why it just makes sense.”

“Love isn’t about sense Y/N. It’s not about appearances, it’s not about applause, it’s not about any of the crap that him and I were raised to prioritize.”

“You call it crap but that’s all he knows, and he just isn’t ready to give it all up.”

“Why do you get to decide that for him?” She tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows, you look away from her.

“I should probably get back inside.” You mutter as you start to turn toward the manor.

“You’re righ-“ She gasps and you turn to see what’s shocked her, “You still have it?”

“Have what?”

“The necklace.” She points to your hand and you nod awkwardly in agreement, “I helped him pick it out.”

“Oh.”

“A sapphire to match your virtue and faithfulness.” She says absent-mindedly as her eyes lock on the piece of jewellery. “Guess he got that wrong.”

She laughs coldly and you scrunch your face in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You’re just like the rest of them.” Before you even know what’s happening she’s reached for the necklace in your hand, “You love him until it’s no longer convenient, until the paint starts to chip.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice comes out shaky and lacking conviction, it makes her laugh again in disgust.

“And then who has to pick up the fallen pieces? Me.” She continues to ramble as she walks toward the edge of the boardwalk, you feel your breathing start to pickup as you try to focus on her instead of the lake behind her. “As if I don’t have my own pieces to pick up.”

“Pansy, please just come here so we can talk about this nicely.” You respond and swallow.

“No. You don’t deserve a civil conversation.” She spits out as she finally reaches the edge of the boardwalk and hangs the necklace out by her arm, “In fact, you don’t deserve anything. You don’t deserve his love and you definitely don’t deserve this pendant.”

“No!”

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Everything after falling in love with Draco happened in slow motion. You don’t know how, or when, but your life had become a slackening slideshow of bad decisions.

You hold your breath as you watch the necklace fall into the lake. It’s as though minutes, hours, days pass in that moment, but you know that it’s merely a few seconds. When the splash finally sounds, you let out a huge gasp and Pansy laughs as she turns to leave.

Panic sets in and you start to contemplate your options. You could jump in and get it yourself? No, that’s absurd, you’re not going to overcome your fear that easily. You could rush into the manor and find someone who’s willing to get it for you? No, no one would take you seriously.

You shake your head and decide to just do the easiest thing; try and work up the courage to get it yourself. You start to pull off your heels and scrunch up your dress so that you can step into the water and you walk toward the edge of the boardwalk.

But as soon as you’re near the water you realise that you can’t do it and your panic rapidly worsens. You step back a few paces before falling to the ground and pulling your head into your knees as silent sobs begin to shake your core.

Breaths, in rapid beats, are going to and from your lungs as the sound of the water swishing fills your ears. Nausea begins to set in your stomach as you think more and more about your terrible predicament, your fear of bodies of water and your sadness at losing the necklace combining to form one indestructible lump in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N? Are you out here?” A voice calls out from a yard or two away and you try to recognize it, but everything is foggy in your state of trepidation.

“Shit, Y/N!” The voice calls out once more and you hear footsteps pick up to a run as the person approaches you. “I swear to Merlin, if you die I’m going to kill you!”

You realise that the person still hasn’t noticed you, and is probably assuming the worst, so you try your best to croak out a word- any word.

“Here.” You manage to rasp out between sobs and wheezes, and the person immediately runs toward you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” They ask as they pull your head out from your knees and you try to nod slowly.

You blink back a few tears and try to focus on the face in front of you, “The- the-“ You try to say and shake your head of the confusion as the words refuse to formulate.

“Hey, breathe princess.”

You recognize the nickname and then soon enough your eyes register that Draco’s kneeling in front of you. “Draco?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He responds softly as he cups your face in his hands and tries to wipe a few of your tears, “Take a few deep breaths for me, yeah?”

You nod and do as told, breathing until you finally calm down and manage to think clearly again. “I’m okay.” You breathe out and he sighs in relief.

“I was so worried, Pansy came in rambling about getting back at you and something about tossing and water- And I was just so scared that she’d thrown you in or something, because I know that you can’t swim and you’re terrified of the lake so I-“

“Hey, slow down, I’m okay. I’m right here.” You respond and manage a weak smile. He nods and sighs again. “She didn’t toss me into the water, though I think she would’ve liked to. She threw in the necklace. Shit! The necklace, it’s still down there!” You exclaim as you try to stand up but find that your legs are asleep, and end up coming back down instantly.

“Calm down. What necklace?”

“The one you gave me, the one with the sapphire that you said was a family heirloom?” You ramble and he furrows his eyebrows.

“You still have that?”

“Yes, I do. And it’s at the bottom of the lake and I need to get it back!” You stand up and Draco immediately does the same, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you still.

“It’s just a necklace Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“It’s not just a necklace, it’s-“ You pinch your nose and sigh, “It just means a lot to me, okay?”

He narrows his eyebrows but nods in understanding, “Okay.” He steps back from you and pulls off his suit jacket, looking absolutely magnificent with his toned shoulders showing beneath the well-fitted shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get it for you.” He shrugs and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to, I can figure something out.”

“You tried to figure it out and you had a full on panic attack, I’m the best option.” He says sternly as he looks at you and you nod in agreement, “Now just wait, very far away, and let me find it for you.”

“Thank you.” You call out behind him but he doesn’t respond.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it 'Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it will never be

“Here you go, in perfect condition.” He says as he drops the necklace into your hands and runs a hand through his hair. He looks gorgeous and you look down to avoid getting lost in his eyes.

“Your suit is wet.” You mumble with a sniff and he chuckles, the sound makes your heart race.

“We have magic, I’ll dry up.”

“Thank you.” You whisper as you finally look up at him and he smiles, that same hypnotic smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

“It’s just a necklace Y/N.” He smiles softly and you shake your head as tears begin to stream down your face again.

“No, it’s not just a necklace.” You sniff, “It’s you and I. It’s all that I have left of the love that we had, it’s all that I have left of the life we were going to build together.”

“Y/N.” The sternness in his voice makes you swallow hard, but you pull your hand up to indicate that you’re not done.

“Let me talk, please.” He nods and you continue, “This little gem is all the words that we never had the chance to say. It’s the nights we would’ve spent climbing into bed together, in our little house that’s tucked safely into a small town. It’s the cups of coffee I was going to make you when you woke up in the mornings, and the cups of tea you would’ve made me when we went to sleep. This little gem is the only thing I have to remind me that our love was real.”

“It also doesn’t hurt that it costs a fortune huh?” He asks with a grin, despite the fact that there’s sadness in his eyes, and you nod with a choked out laugh.

“Definitely a bonus.” You say as you laugh a little more and wipe away a few tears.

Draco pulls the necklace out of your hands and opens it to put it around your neck once again, and you turn around so he can put it on. “Look, Y/N, life is too short to fill up with ridiculous mistakes. You left me, like I never mattered to you, and it broke me.”

You turn back around quickly, “That wasn-“

He twists you back around abruptly, “Let me talk now.” You nod and he continues to hook the chain around your neck. “It took me months to decipher what you meant when you said that I had too much love for the spotlight, that I didn’t have the capacity to let it go. It took me months to finally grasp what you meant when you said that people fall at my feet, that my contrarian demeanor is a crowd-puller. And the recognition hurt, a lot, because I realised that you we right about most of it.”

You feel his fingers leave your neck as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, “What was I wrong about?”

He pulls you back to face him and smiles as he looks down at you, “The only thing you were wrong about was my unwillingness to let it go.” He pulls you into his arms for a hug, and you sigh in his arms.

“You can’t just leave this life Draco, we both know it isn’t that simple.” You muffle into his chest and the vibrations of his chuckles make you smile.

“That’s where you’re wrong angel, I can just leave this life. You never gave me the option but,” You pull apart and he smiles so wide that you think his face might come apart, “I would give it all up, for you.”

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

His eyes are shining as they look down at you with adoration and commitment, and it takes all the strength you have left inside to not pull him back into your arms. He brings his fingers up to the sapphire and rubs his thumb along it.

“It’s not all you have Y/N.” He pulls your chin up so you look him in the eyes, “I’m still right here.”

~~~

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~~~

hi lovies! guess who’s finally feeling good enough to write again! :) we’re going to ignore the fact that the FOOLWAG sequel is beating my ass though

I will not lie, I had a great time writing this, possibly one of my favourite requests by far. I was originally going to make the ending angsty but I figured  @evermoreeve (thx sweetie<3) reminded me that we all deserve a happy ending now and then.

anyway, i love you all,

jean <3

[the-fae-folk]

How could the fae have been worked into Lord of the Rings?

Entertainingly enough, they already were part of Lord of the Rings. You see, Tolkien was known for many things. He was a writer, a poet, an academic. And of course he's best known for his fantasy works (including but not limited to the rich world of Lord of the Rings). But he was also a philologist. Philology is defined as being the study of language in oral and written historical sources; it is the intersection of textual criticism, literary criticism, history, and linguistics (with especially strong ties to etymology). Why is that relevant? Well it explains a lot about the way the world of Arda, and the small area on the Eastern Continent known as Middle Earth, was put together by Tolkien. You see, in my own studies I've started to come to the realization that all the fantasy races we have in contemporary fantasy are a lot more complicated at the roots than we might think. Elves, Dwarfs, Gnomes, Goblins, Hobgoblins, even Orcs. None of them started out as separate or disconnected as they are now. I've brought this up a few times before and gone deeper into the linguistic connections at those times, so I won't go too deep into detail now. But a lot of the stories about these magical races have sources in different parts of Europe, different countries and cultures, and different Languages and Dialects. The stories were moved about, traded, told and retold, and spread about. And even when the stories themselves were left off, the names and ideas about such creatures still carried on without them. As superstitions or bogeymen to frighten children into behaving. You can trace the connection of names between these different groups. Even concepts and ideas were borrowed from different cultures and had already existing names cut and pasted to them. Beings like Dwarves came from Norse Mythology, certainly they were great healers and skilled metal smiths, but there's very little about them being particularly short. In fact, one possible explanation for this shortness is the character of Oberon (you know, the guy Shakespeare borrowed for his play "A Midsummer Night's Dream"?). Oberon comes from a Dwarf from Germanic Mythology named Alberich, who in the Nibelungenlied, a Burgundian poem, was said to guard a great treasure. He shows up again in the early 13th century chanson de geste (a type of French Epic Poem) entitled "Les Prouesses et faitz du noble Huon de Bordeaux" where instead of a dwarf he was an elf or a fairy. And though he is quite beautiful in appearance, he is also said to be incredibly short due to having been cursed by an offended fairy at his Christening, who then relented and gave him great beauty to make up for it. And then he was borrowed again, by Shakespeare, who made him into the King of the Faeries. So is he a Fairy? A Dwarf? An Elf? Well as literary characters go, all three. Are you beginning to see how tangled it all is? Other races have similar problems. We say Goblins and see all kinds of little wicked creatures, perhaps with sharp teeth, green skin, or a predisposition for violent or chaotically inclined hobbies. But in reality they were not actually described as being anything more than humanoid beings who are often fairly short. They were described as grotesque sometimes, but that word is incredibly suspect because it was used as a general adjective for the strange, mysterious, magnificent, fantastic, hideous, ugly, incongruous, unpleasant, or disgusting, and thus is often used to describe weird shapes and distorted forms. In art, performance, and literature, however, grotesque could also refer to something that invoked a feeling of uncomfortable bizarreness and occasionally pity. A Hobgoblin is more or less synonymous with a Goblin, but is described as being a short and humanoid spirit who could be found in human dwellings and doing odd jobs while everyone was asleep, though they would be mortally offended if offered payment and would play nasty tricks on morally bad people whose houses they inhabited. Another very very similar creature to them are the Brownies, who are described in

much the same way. The name Hob is just a rustic name for a countryside goblin (So we have the Faerie equivalent of Moon Moon and instead have Goblin Goblin). Its important here because it shares not only an extremely tentative connection with the etymology of Hobbits (Something Tolkein himself was unsure about because though he originally thought he'd made it up himself, there were too many connections to ideas, words, and concepts he'd worked on or read about in his academic work), but it also happens to be an Old English word for beings like elfs, sprites, and bogeys. So goblins are related to hobs and also to elfs? While elfs are related to dwarfs and dwarfs are short like the goblins, hobgoblins, and hobs. But in many old stories, elfs too are described as short funny little people who play and laugh and cause mischief. Faeries though, the ones we know are a combination of several groups, but primarily that of the Celtic Mythological beings known as the Tuatha De Dannan. Otherworldly and powerful, though sharing an inclination for magical mischief and for looking down on the unworthy. Tolkien combined many of these in different ways, playing with them and having fun, while also keeping certain aspects of their lore to ensure that anyone who had even a passing familiarity with European Folklore would somehow feel as if they remembered some of these beings even though Tolkien's versions of them was very distinctive and new. His elves were not the pretty little sprites of older stories, but they were still mischievous and prone to laughter and funny songs despite their more dream-like nature. His orcs were perversions of the elves, captured, tortured, and force bred into monstrous hate-filled people who would seem to the elves like a dark and terrible reflection of themselves. And between the Lord of the Rings books and the Hobbit we had the name switched between Goblins and Orcs, because Orc was an older word which, while having a complex history of its own, can be said to mean Goblin or Spectre, or sometimes Hell-Devil. Tolkien borrowed it from Beowulf where it was rendered as the Anglo-Saxon "Orcneas" which is often translated to "Evil Spirits" but whose actual meaning is probably closer to "devil-corpse", understood as some sort of walking dead monster. Though the races of Tolkien's world had different origins, the beings he borrowed those names and ideas from did not. And he took great pains to ensure that he understood those connections before creating his own take on them. He even points this out to us in the stories of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. The Took Family was mentioned briefly to be different from most other Hobbits and were rumored to have taken a fairy wife. We know from Tolkien that Fairy was a Hobbit name for Elves and that their word for the Undying Lands across the sea to the west was Faerieland. And later in the Lord of the Rings we're told that Gollum was once of a very similar creature to the Hobbits, not actually a Hobbit, but something similar. It is important to note that none of the gods or the living races of that world know the origin of the Hobbits, which was lost even to themselves. Just that they were noticed one day as having been around for a while. Only Illuvitar knew their story, and it seemed he had no intention of telling any of the Valar under his command. So you see, Faeries are already deeply entwined in the Lord of the Rings, and in fact, much of our contemporary fantasy. It's just harder to see nowadays because time has been busy muddying the waters.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Millie’s Massive Fic Rec Post

To celebrate 700 followers I’m showing all the love, people. What you’ll find here are fics that were sent to me who I agree deserve a bit more love as well as fics I’ve read and adored. They’re split into characters so all you need to do is scroll to find your fave and bask in its glory. There is some swearing but it’s only because it’s the only way I know how to express my feelings. This is also my thank you to each of the authors involved for taking the time out of their day to write these fics for free. There are also some authors I know I’ve forgotten and I am so so sorry if I have, I promise you it wasn't intentional, I love you all very much.

As always, I love and appreciate you all. Let’s get started on this ridiculously long post!!

Harry Potter:

Don’t Walk Away - @kalimagik - THE ANGST. I was on the edge of my seat through it all; I knew what was coming but did I look away? No. I was completely sucked it and that ending... oh my god, I was broken. If you’re looking for an incredibly written piece of angst that has you in tears, then this is the fic.

Dandelions - @lupins-sweater - The first post of A Very Harry Potter Summer and it was kicked off so brilliantly!! This fic had me wishing for my very own Harry to take morning walks with. It’s so wonderful; it has you wanting a summery morning and dandelions to make wishes on.

Always You - @bl597 - inspired by Louis Tomlinson’s song Always You, so I was already sold on that front. It’s an angst piece - Harry pining from afar, regretting his decisions but with a happy ending. I love that it's written from his perspective, that he realises what he’s done. I really do love this fic, and I aim to work my way through her masterlist!

The Truth Behind The Kiss - @justauthoring​ - the anticipation from the first sentence, I was on the edge of my seat. I loved every single word of this fic, it’s written so well. I just, I need you all to read this fic bc it is SO GOOD. Harry, Triwizard tournament, feelings, fluff - it has it all. 

For how long? - @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ - It seems for Harry fics I am drawn to angst even though I write nothing but fluff for him. This fic is no different. Dani, this fic is wonderful, I love it. You capture the angst brilliantly! Go read this everyone!

Ron Weasley:

“can we pretend I never said that?” - @hello-everyfandom - I love this so much! Ron calling himself ‘the snog master’ had me snorting out loud - it’s great. And then the dialogue continues to be brilliant. I really enjoyed this fic! Ron needs more attention people!!  

Crossing Lines - @kalimagik - ADORABLE. CUTE. WONDERFUL. Oh, Ron. Everything about this fic is marvellous. The relationship between Ron and the reader, the realisation, the meddling. It was perfect, so so perfect.

birthday - @lupinsdarling - FLUFFY AND CHAOTIC AND I LOVE IT. Why oh why doesn't Ron get more love? Why doesn't this fic have more attention? It’s so fluffy and Ron is so bloody cute that my heart physically hurt while reading this. It hurt because it was so PURE.

Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley:

Girls in one room - @eleven-times-lively - Hermione x Reader - oh my god I snorted at Ron, I love it. And the fluff? There’s so much fluff, I can't deal with the fluff. If you’re going to read a Hermione fic, read this one!

just as lovely - @vanillann - this is so pure! it’s so wonderful, and the relationship between Hermione and the reader is so cute! 

Hug ur friends drabble - @firewhisky-kisses - Ginny x Reader - it’s the cutest thing I’ve read, oh my god, is it cute! I love everything about this, Steph is so talented! But I go into that further down.

Neville Longbottom:

Never the Bride - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Dee’s fic reads as a rom com, it’s so brilliantly done. By the time you're at the end, you feel as if you’ve just watched a two hour rom com and need to squeal into your pillow because of the feels. I love this fic.

Moonlight Swim - @kalimagik - Neville. Oh, Neville. This fic stole my heart and it won't give me it back. The idea of a moonlight swim with Neville? Here for it. And the confession? *chefs kiss* incredible. 

Healing - @firewhisky-kisses - I cannot put into words how much I loved this fic,. Steph is just so incredibly talented and writes Neville so wonderfully. Healing is the first fic of two and that second part had me in happy tears because Neville deserves the world. I go back and reread this a lot when I need to boost my emotions, so thank you for this Steph.

Good News - @peachesandpinks - Let me explain something here, Ron repeatedly and without fail hypes up fic writers to the point where she makes me cry happy tears at her comments. Her writing (and I'm going to swear now) is fucking brilliant. I love it, I adore it. Ren has a way with words that I only hope to master. This fic? Marvellous, magnificent, wonderful - pick a synonym and go wild. It’s so sweet and wholesome - what more could you possibly want other than to be on her taglist?

Tally Marks - @obsessedwithrandomthings NEVILLE WITH TATTOOS PEOPLE! NEVILLE! WITH! TATTOOS! Do I need to say anymore? Yes? Okay. Dee is a fantastic writer but she writes Neville perfectly. We have had many conversations about her love for Neville and her love for him shines through in this fic. She writes with such care and I love reading everything.

Draco Malfoy: 

The Purist - @mxl-foy - This series is so good. Like, so good, that if it was a physical book, it would be sat on my shelves. I would religiously check her account every time I came onto Tumblr to see if a new chapter was posted, and if there was, you best believe there was a happy dance. It’s so incredibly thought out and plotted. And there’s going to be a part two! It’s so great!

Notes - @malfoys-demigod - This is so sweet! I live for fluffy Draco as you all know if you read my Draco fics, but I adore reading fluffy Draco as well. This fic is so adorable, I love it! 

Always so Cold - @teheharrypotter - Five times Draco gave you his sweater and the one time you accepted. I love these sort of fics, they’re my indulgence fics. Jealous!Draco is one of my favourite things to read as well. and he’s so dramatic. I couldn't ask for more in a fic, definitely one of my favourites. 

the distance between us - @sdicapriox - This is a genius idea. I love this idea, and I love how it was executed. Almost 10k words of brilliance. I love the reader and her first letter to Draco and her entire personality - fish funeral? genius. I really like how you portray Draco and the effort you put into his internal monologue, it really is something excellent. The ending as well, I won't spoil, I just urge people to read this. 

Heartbreak - @slytherinprincess03 - you have to have a little bit of angst in a Draco fic rec right? This fic has it but the ending is perfect and fluffy, gah! I love it!. Not to mention, Draco is such a gentlemen in it. I can't wait to see what else you write, lovely!!

Hardly A Date - @fanficflaneuse - I love this fic. I love it so much. I tend not to read sibling!reader but I adored this. The relationship between Harry and the reader, and then Draco and the reader. It’s amazing. I could rant for hours and hours about how much I love her work - her series are out of this world and she captures Draco’s character perfectly. 

George Weasley:

Red with Rage - @kalimagik - AGH ANOTHER OF MAGGIE’S FICS. The prank? Genius, and that end line - incredible. Her characterisation of the twins is so good, I love reading her fics. She deserves more than 300 followers! So if you don’t already follow her, go now!

When Everything Changes - @strawberriesonsummer - Based on the song Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. This is so pure, it’s so fluffy. George is adorable in this! I can't wait to read what else you write for George!

Come back to you - @dreamer821 - JJ, JJ, JJ. Ugh, this fic is a work of art and George is so bloody caring. I mention this a lot but the relationship between George and the reader is so important to get right and JJ does it flawlessly. My heart hurts for this fic and that last line, LOVE IT. I live for how JJ writes George, I could read her work all day. GO READ HER STUFF, YOU WON’T REGRET IT.

Fred Weasley:

The Right Bird - @dreamer821 - I’m not only just involving this because it was used in my writing challenge but oh my days, it is so wonderful. The relationship between Fred and the reader is just *chefs kiss* perfect. JJ has such a way with words and I just love how she depicts Fred.

Lost, are we? - @prongsies - I think I’m going to make my way through your masterlist because I loved this so much. The teasing was so cute, and Fred helping her at the beginning? Ahhhhh brilliant. 

Watermelon Sugar - @prongsies - COMPLETING THE FINEST SERVICE TO THE HP FANDOM AND WRITING FICS INSPIRED BY FINE LINE - I SALUTE YOU. This is so good, so so good. The references to the song are used so well and that little bit of fluff at the end? Amazing. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put the song on repeat now...

Percy Weasley: 

Nothing We Can’t Forgive -  @firewhisky-kisses - This series really does showcase Steph’s talent. She’s an incredible writer and this fic deserves all the attention it can possibly get. It’s the first Percy fic I’ve ever read and I’m already planning a reread. Steph captures Percy’s character flawlessly whilst also depicting his healing in a manner that is so relatable. I’ve linked the masterlist because once you start reading, you won't want to stop. 

Sight is Relative - @hufflefluff-writer - This fic has a blind reader which I think makes it all the more beautiful. Amelia’s characterisation of Percy really is wonder, she captures him brilliantly. The fic after they eat is quite literally breathtaking. The description of colours, the dialogue - it’s fantastic.

Hufflepuff!Reader Headcanons - @soft-nerdy-wolf - I loved this from the beginning where the reader was already helping Percy out of his comfort zone by disregarding curfew. Then the further, I read, I loved more and more because of how fluffy it is! And the confession? So so sweet! This needs more attention!

Bill Weasley: 

Estrellita - @fanficflaneuse and @hufflefluff-writer - It is a fic inspired by the Sound of Music, what more could you possibly want? It’s so delicate and incredibly written by two extremely talented writers. The relationship between Bill and the reader = adorable. The whole series is so fantastic, I’ve linked part one and you’ll find the rest on Amelia’s masterlist, which you’ll need because you’ll be reading the entire thing in one sitting, I swear.

Charlie Weasley:

As Family the First Time - @kalimagik - you’ll have noticed that Maggie features a lot here but that’s because she is so damned talented that I adore most of her fics. The first Charlie Weasley fic I read and I fell in love. It’s just so fluffy and humorous with features from the whole Weasley family. Basically, by the end of it I was ready to raise dragons in Romania with a certain Weasley.

Meeting the Weasleys - @soft-nerdy-wolf - This made smile all sorts of stupid. From the beginning, I wanted to own Hepaestus (the perfect name for a dragon in my opinion - Zeus’ own forger, amazing.) And the fluff with Charlie straight after? I love, love, love it as well as the fun relationship they have. And the pranks with Fred and George? Ah! I just love.

Dragons blurb - @hufflefluff-writer - I know it’s only a blurb but oh my god, I loved it, I love it. Jealous!Charlie and a buttload of fluff - the best to boost your mood.

Cedric Diggory:

A Ghost Story - @wondernimbus - So beautifully haunting. Ysa has a way with words that make you feel as if you're physically there, living the fic alongside the characters. There aren't really any words to describe how talented Ysa is - all I can do is urge to read her masterlist and discover for yourself. 

My Boys - @potterverseimagine - Cedric and dogs - I am in love. This fic is so sweet and pure and playful. Playful Cedric is so great omg and this fic is full to the brim with it. I just... ah I love this so much. AND HE’S ALIVE. I LOVE FICS WHERE HE’S ALIVE. Thank you for this!!

It’s a Date - @angelinathebook​ - Lena, this is so good. You need to write more Cedric! Ah, I hate those boys so much but I love Cedric!! This is so good! Cedric needs more love 100% - if you haven't read this already, you need to read it now!!

Sirius Black: 

Lost Time - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Reader standing up for who she loves against Bellatrix? Yes, we love that. Slow burn romance with Sirius? I love that even more. Dee never fails to astound me when she writes Sirius, and I know she won’t fail to astound you too. Seriously (lol), go through Dee’s masterlist, read her works, you won't regret it. She’s the loveliest.

Our Godson - @nebulablakemurphy - Christina is so talented. The letters!!! Are so good!!! AND WHEN THEY FINALLY MEET? My heart! Christina, it's as if you broke it and then rebuilt it again all in the span of 2.8k words especially with that ending. I love this fic, and you will love this fic. 

Curiosity - @siriusly-the-best-gryffindor​ - I don’t know what else to say that I haven't already said in my reblog but I love this fic. I am heavily pierced and heavily tattooed and I love seeing a reader as the same. I love all of this fic, it 100% needs more love!

The Jimmy Jab Games - @im-a-writer-right​ - A Sirius fic inspired by Brooklyn-99. I loved every single chapter, it made me so happy. And that final chapter, I was smiling like a fool throughout. Sirius is a dream through this, and that bet? I love! I’ve linked the masterlist because you won’t want to move as you read.  

Secrets and fears - @firewhisky-kisses​ - Steph does it again with the masterpieces. Honestly, I squeal a little whenever I see her in my notifications with a new fic because everything she writes is stellar, and this is no exception. If you’re going to read anything tonight, let it be her masterlist. If you haven't read her latest Sirius piece as well, you are sorely missing out. 

Remus Lupin:

Protect - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Oh man, this one hurt. There are so many feels to this fic, so many layers. The enemies to lovers? Amazing. That ending as well - so fucking good. Like everything Dee writes, so fucking good.

Sleeping Beauty - @poppin-potter - This is adorable. There’s no other words for it. The relationship between the reader and Remus is so cute, I was smiling all the way through it. Not to mention the relationship between the reader and the Marauders, so bloody good. And that ending? It was so peaceful, like I was reading and I was like yeah, I would’t mind a piece of that.

Pain of reality - @heloisedaphnebrightmore - I had to involve some Remus angst, and oh my word. You smashed my heart into pieces in the beginning and had put it back together by the end. Heloise is an incredible writer, so so talented. This is a Remus fic you cannot miss out on!

Bruise and Scars - @peachesandpinks - Soulmate AU and Marauders Era Remus. What more could you possibly want? It’s poetic. If you look to my Neville section, you’ll see why I love Ren’s writing so much but let me tell you, I am a SUCKER for Remus. Always have been, always will be. You will not regret reading this fic or any of Ren’s fics.

Nights like These - @teheharrypotter - another fic in A Very Harry Potter Summer and the description in this fic is so good! The way the summer night described has you feeling every moment of it. And the conversation between Remus and the reader is so beautiful, where they touch upon their grief. It’s a wonderfully written piece of work.

James Potter:

Numb Love - @heloisedaphnebrightmore - Unrequited love is like my guilty pleasure because I love the angst of it, and this fic. Oh this fic, it destroyed me and I loved every single minute of it. How this fic doesn't have more notes, I have no clue. It’s a masterpiece of emotions. 

Reading between the lines - @approved-by-dentists - ohhh this fic is great, I love the flirtation between the reader and James in the beginning all the way to end. It was one of the first James fics I read (I’m late to the party, I’m well aware) and omg I love it. Just go read the fic!

Book-thief - @wondernimbus - I’m going to repeat my words from earlier, there are no words to describe Ysa’s talent. James Potter and a bookshop and I was sold. She captures his character so brilliantly. Just... go binge her work.

Summer revelations - @pregnant-piggy - I keep saying this about all the fics I put on here but I love this fic! I love it! First, I love James. Second, I need those muffins - seriously, where can I get these muffins? And their realisations and confessions! It’s such a pure fic, I’m absolutely in love with your portrayal of James.

Newt Scamander:

Cheeky Niffler - @eleven-times-lively - reader is an archaeologist - from that moment, I was sold. I loved reading this, I loved the idea and I love Niffler as it is! I always need more Newt in my life and this is perfect.

Online Love - @strawberriesonsummer​ - Modern AU! I really loved this idea, I love the idea of Newt with a phone and ringing the wrong number. It’s such a wonderful fic, I haven't read Newt in so long so this was such a lovely one to read! I can’t wait to read what other Newt fics are posted!

desire - @blisfvll​ - I am a huge fan of their works; their Draco fics are incredible and their Newt fics are just the same. This had me feeling all sorts of emotions, and I loved every second of it.  

You stared Newt right in the eyes. - @fantasticnewtimagines​ - I didn't know what the title to this was so I just type out the first sentence, I hope you don't mind! This is a delicious piece of angst with a lovely, happy ending. I adore this piece so much because it conveys so much. I love it!!

MARVEL:

I want to take a moment to appeal to the followers of mine who also enjoy reading marvel. @shaynawrites23​ has started to write some marvel fics and even entered my writing challenge and her fics definitely deserve some attention! She’s a wonderful writer and her fics are so cute! If you’re a fan of Bucky, you’ll love these fics!

Catty

Soulmate

Rosy Proposal

[hakasims]

The Most In-depth Analysis of Luca Marinelli’s Characters You’ll Ever Need

You’d think I was done with classifications, but I’m not! There’s so much more I can say about Luca Marinelli’s oeuvre and his magnificent roster of characters. And yes, I’ve made this post before where I highlighted specific tropes that show up in a lot of his movies, but that was surface-level shit. This is an actual exploration of what makes a Luca Marinelli character besides being a kinky little whore. And don’t worry, it’s still in that user-friendly question-answer format because I love you.

Here’s the thing: Luca is a chameleon but he also has a type, and this type is:

✨ a (likely) queer repressed addict with daddy issues ✨

That’s the skeleton. Let’s see how many of his major roles possess that skeleton at all and what flavors they add to the picture.

Disclaimer: I excluded characters with little screen time and Joseph from Mary of Nazareth because he doesn’t deserve rights. Also, instead of going in the boring chronological order, I’m gonna start with the least typical character for Luca and end with the crème de la crème. The results may not surprise you.

Nicky (The Old Guard)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? No.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? I know we’re all deeply affected by our shitty father figures but I would genuinely question Nicky’s sanity if he were still on that shit at the ripe age of 951. A little tip for daddy-hating immortals out there: just do what Angel did and kill your shitty dad. Problem solved.

Is he violent? Despite doling out tons of violence, he doesn’t have a violent nature and seems uninterested in hating his enemy or delivering retribution.

Does he need a good night sleep? I’m sure nothing helps one sleep better than a Joe-shaped big spoon.

Does he need a good cry? Doesn’t seem like it.

Flavors: A perfect immortal warrior bean in a healthy relationship.

Conclusion: Ironically but unsurprisingly, Nicky is the least Luca-like character.

Guido (Tutti i santi giorni)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so but who knows? If someone told me he’s demisexual, I’d believe it.

Is he repressed? The movie may disagree, but I say yes, obviously.

Does he have an addiction? Not unless you count his romantic relationship.

Does he have daddy issues? His family is so supportive and wholesome it’s almost parodic.

Is he violent? He’s the opposite of a toxic macho dude, but then he has a violent outburst out of nowhere because the movie is bad.

Does he need a good night sleep? He doesn’t like sleeping at night.

Does he need a good cry? Naturally.

Flavors: An adorkable awkward nerd with flowery speech.

Conclusion: I can forgive straightness and wholesomeness but I can’t forgive lack of complexity.

Martin (Martin Eden)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Yes.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? Not to my knowledge.

Is he violent? When he deems it necessary to be.

Does he need a good night sleep? Sure.

Does he need a good cry? Cry your little heart out, Martin!

Flavors: An arrogant, pretentious, politically confused writer.

Conclusion: A little too straight for your typical Luca, but he makes up for it with being complex and complicated.

Loris (Il mondo fino in fondo)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? So fucking repressed!

Does he have an addiction? Nothing beyond his savior complex.

Does he have daddy issues? He has a shitty dad he’s spent his whole life trying to please, and also his mommy left, so like yeah, obviously.

Is he violent? He has his straight dude moments.

Does he need a good night sleep? Definitely.

Does he need a good cry? Oh yeah, let him cry, it’s good for him.

Flavors: A casually homophobic mother hen.

Conclusion: Ruined by heterosexual agenda.

Lui (Ricordi?)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Very.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? A big sack of them.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? Oh yes. To sleep, perchance to dream about anything other than his traumatic memories.

Does he need a good cry? So much.

Flavors: Up-his-butt and pensive.

Conclusion: Leave it to Luca to take a guy who would be an absolute nightmare in real life and turn him into someone I actually want to watch for two hours and see happy by the end.

Gabriele (Waves)

Is he queer? There’s evidence he might be gay.

Is he repressed? I’d bet on it.

Does he have an addiction? Doesn’t seem like it.

Does he have daddy issues? Nobody knows.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? He probably will with how the movie ended.

Does he need a good cry? At least one.

Flavors: A sweet introverted guy who loves boats.

Conclusion: While not particularly complex, Gabriele has layers and nuances. Also give him a big muscular daddy.

Fabrizio (Fabrizio de André - Principe libero)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? He was before music became his only career.

Does he have an addiction? Alcohol, cigarettes, sex, cheating - take your pick.

Does he have daddy issues? Not as bad as some of the other guys here but he’s heard his fair share of “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” speeches.

Is he violent? He’s soft.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Does he need a good cry? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Flavors: Fabrizio de André is the flavor.

Conclusion: Even though it’s a biopic, there are still many Luca-isms there. He’s just that kind of actor.

Milton (Una questione privata)

Is he queer? It could be argued that he is bisexual.

Is he repressed? Do you even need to ask?

Does he have an addiction? About half of the breaths he takes are filled with cigarette smoke.

Does he have daddy issues? He seems to have a good and loving relationship with both his parents.

Is he violent? Not by nature.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yep.

Does he need a good cry? He certainly does.

Flavors: A repressed bisexual feeling powerless in a horrible world.

Conclusion: This is proof that Luca can carry a whole entire movie on his sexy shoulders, alone. Also Milton needs a safe and loving triad.

Mattia (La solitudine dei numeri primi)

Is he queer? I personally read him as asexual. Though assigning asexuality to characters who are traumatized is a dangerous path so don’t quote me on this, okay?

Is he repressed? Just the most repressed.

Does he have an addiction? It’s debatable whether self-harm and eating disorders can be considered addictions, but they’re part of his character, and I thought you should know.

Does he have daddy issues? His parents played their part in messing him up which then led to the big thing that really messed him up, though other than that his dad is barely a presence.

Is he violent? Not at all.

Does he need a good night sleep? At least 17 hours.

Does he need a good cry? Oh, so much. He needs all the cry.

Flavors: A quiet genius with lots of guilt.

Conclusion: Can you believe this was his first film role? Our boy is talented af!

Fabio (Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? You could argue that he is repressed by being limited in his place in social hierarchy.

Does he have an addiction? Amazingly enough, no. He has fixations, though.

Does he have daddy issues? Thinking his father was a loser and not wanting to end up like him is textbook stuff.

Is he violent? Very.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes please.

Does he need a good cry? He needs to purge his soul from all the bottled up stuff.

Flavors: A campy psycho.

Conclusion: Luca’s most iconic character, so of course he scored high on the list.

Paolo (Il padre d’Italia)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? I can’t even start listing all the ways in which he’s repressed.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes a lot.

Does he have daddy issues? His issues are more of a mommy variety.

Is he violent? Not in the slightest.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s the poster boy for needing a good night sleep.

Does he need a good cry? A good cry, a good weep, a good sob, a good bawl, *googles more synonyms* a good wail, a good squall...

Flavors: A self-loathing gay orphan in need of some life goodness.

Conclusion: What can I say about Paolo that all of you aren’t already thinking? Decent film, great character, excellent portrayal.

Mickey (Die Pfeiler der Macht)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? It’s Victorian England, you guys.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes casually but other than that... eh. And don’t tell me he has sex addiction. He uses his body strategically.

Does he have daddy issues? If what he has isn’t daddy issues, I don’t know what is.

Is he violent? He’s got tons of bottled up aggression.

Does he need a good night sleep? It would be great if he could use the day’s darkest hours for sleeping.

Does he need a good cry? Undeniably.

Flavors: A conniving slut extraordinaire.

Conclusion: A major player in the book (says me who managed like 50 pages), Mickey Miranda was turned into such a nothing character in the miniseries that they needed a truly extraordinary actor to make him memorable. And guess what, Luca delivered.

Cesare (Non essere cattivo)

Is he queer? Not explicitly, but come on.

Is he repressed? Lethally.

Does he have an addiction? He’s an addiction textbook.

Does he have daddy issues? *Jake Peralta voice* Yeah, the guy without a daddy is the one with daddy issues. Explain that logic.

Is he violent? Oh yeah, he’s a rabid little trash goblin.

Does he need a good night sleep? So much.

Does he need a good cry? He’s had his fair share of good cries, but he could always use more.

Flavors: A aimless junkie.

Conclusion: The quintessential Luca. Beautiful.

Primo (Trust)

Is he queer? Listen, just because we don’t see him fuck a dude on screen it doesn’t mean he isn’t a motherfluffing queer icon. It’s not subtext; it’s TEXT.

Is he repressed? Where do I even fucking start?

Does he have an addiction? Oh yeah. And a coke nail to prove it.

Does he have daddy issues? I would need a whole separate post to unpack his daddy issues.

Is he violent? So very violent.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes, please. On an actual bed in an actual bedroom.

Does he need a good cry? You can just tell.

Flavors: A ruthless criminal with a strong mafia boss potential.

Conclusion: The pièce de résistance of the Luca Marinelli filmography. Not only does he tick every box, he gets bonus points for the excellent wardrobe choices that emphasize Luca’s best features. Primo Nizzuto is everything great you want from Luca, except singing. (Though in my headcanon that whole white car in a snowstorm monologue was a musical number.)

[oonajaeadira]

Hey! Ok so this might me a lil long but you deserve to know this.

I learned how to speak English on my own, since it's not my first language (I'm from Argentina). I never took any classes as a kid, instead I did stuff like copy-pasting the lyrics of a song on Google Translate and trying to catch the words I learned on other new songs I heard.

And although I now consider myself somewhat fluent, I'm still learning everyday by reading online, watching movies, listening to podcasts, etc. And let me tell you, nothing has helped me as much as your fics these days. Specially the Ezra ones.

The thing about being self-taught is that you first learn a very casual, informal language (my English teachers at school would always say that I spoke only in slang), so if you really wanna expand your language without boring yourself with a dictionary, you gotta find stuff that are actually written or said in a more complicated language but are still interesting.

And your fics make learning and practicing SO FUN for me, I don't even notice how many new words I learn 'cause I am so invested in your writing and your art. I suck at expressing myself with words (at any language, including Spanish), so I'm sorry if I describe it poorly, but every time I read your work it seems that your brain was made to only fabricate beauty and magnificence; you take me to a place where I don't wanna leave, you make me flutter with even simple descriptions of things, and when you use a word that's new for me, I google it's meaning and when I read it the whole moment you're writing about becomes richer and I stand smiling foolishly at Google Translate. And even if I wasn't a fan of Ezra or Javi G or other characters, I'd still have the same reaction.

I want you to know that I'm not lying or exaggerating when I say that, on this site, your art is the only one that takes my breath away, from the immense creativity and originality of your plots to the divine and complex way you pick your words, making me feel like I'm listening to music whenever I read.

So thank you for giving us your talent for free. We don't deserve such thing. And thank you for helping me learn and practice a language in a way that makes me love it even more, even if you don't know it.

Besos!! 💖

Hello, my sweet, sweet friend. Please come sit next to me so I can take your hand and thank you with my whole soul.

I'm sorry it's taken me a couple of days to answer this. I think it's safe to say that I am completely overwhelmed by it; just an emotional wreck.

The fact that you like what I write, that it touches you and you have fun reading it? That has warmed my heart. Of course it has. That it is helpful to you? It is beyond words to express how I feel about that. Let's just say I am super touched.

But may I say.

I lived and taught in Korea for two years and I know that English is a SUPER difficult language to learn. We have so many irregular verbs, tenses, and idioms (omgts the VAST amount of idioms we use in everyday speech!!!--and different ones from each country!), and all of our incidentals and contractions and elisions and synonyms and homophones, all of our archaic spelling... All of that on top of the fact that our slang changes daily? I BOW DOWN TO YOU. I can speak snatches of languages here and there--phrases really. I can read and understand maybe one or two if I concentrate really hard. But I highly admire and envy anyone who can speak and write fluently in more than one language. I really really do. Especially if their second language is English, because I know it's hard.

Shall we talk about how my brain exploded when you said you were mainly SELF TAUGHT????? Holy balls. I see movies where characters learn English from songs and TV and I thought that was a myth. I spent a decade of my life watching subtitled anime and learned NOTHING. That you were tenacious about learning and worked hard? Wow, friend. You are a diety.

We need to address the part where you say you suck at expressing yourself with written words.

????

Setting aside all the naturalisms and proper grammatical things in your message, setting aside the fact that you write like you've been speaking it all your life, saying that someone's brain "was made to only fabricate beauty and magnificence" and "when you use a word that's new for me, I google it's meaning and when I read it the whole moment you're writing about becomes richer and I stand smiling foolishly at Google Translate" ... THAT'S BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD WRITE.

Look. I know you came here to deliver love. What I'm saying is that I'm honored, and oh, look at that, I HAVE A WHOLE BATCH OF MY OWN LOVE AND ADMIRATION TO SEND BACK TO YOU.

I think it's the absolute best that you're practicing by reading fic. I love that so much it hurts.

And the last thing I'll say is that Argentina is a place I've had a long interest in visiting and now you've got me yearning to look into it again.

Lies. The last thing I'll really say is that you're amazing and I wish all the love for you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming here to tell me this and expressing yourself so fkn beautifully. Keep it up. You're doing amazing, sweetie. <3

[kotokos-cafe]

@urweirduncle You requested this! ;D

Slight Su1c1d3 trigger warning for Junko's part!

~ Mod Kotoko

Celeste, Junko, And Mukuro With An Ultimate Poet S/O

Celeste loves your talent a whole bunch!

She loves that it's such a refined and gothic talent to have.

It reminds her of the famous Victorian poets, like Mary Elizabeth Coleridge and the Brönte Sisters.

Even if you don't right those sorts of poems, that won't stop her from noticing the resemblance.

She won't approach you first to see your poems, but will absolutely listen if you decide to show her.

Celeste appreciates that a lot. She knows it takes a lot to show someone your poetry like that, and she's very grateful to have that sort of trust from you.

"The way you're able to string words together so beautifully and weave them into a work of art all your own is truly magnificent, S/O. It's beautiful, Darling. Thank you for sharing."

She's going to give honest but gentle feedback, not biased on her own preferences. For example, if she notices you overuse a word, she'll point it out and suggest synonyms.

She always makes sure to praise your writing, and refuses to allow you to think insecure thoughts about it. Her wonderful S/O isn't going to be feeling inadequate on her watch!

Celestia will also spoil you with lots of poetry merch! Doki Doki Literature Club! merch, stationary sets, and anything else that makes you happy.

It's best if you don't ask where the money is coming from. She is the Ultimate Gambler, after all. Her luck with gambling outweighs even that of Makoto Naegi's.

Point is, Celeste loves to spoil her partners, and since you're the Ultimate Poet, her best course of action is through writing utensils and supplies that assist you with your talent!

She'll stop if you ask her to, but she'll be kinda disappointed about it!

She says it's like fate that she won you! The gothic, royal-looking princess and her adorable little poet, singing sonatas at her.

She reads Shakespeare, if you can't tell, with Romeo and Juliet being her favorite, since it reminds her of you.

Poor Mukuro basically has no sense of self, so expect her to ask you if she should like it first.

"S/O, I-I know I'm stupid, so how do I feel about this? Do I like it?"

You ended up crying and telling her that she can feel however she wants about your poetry, and that you wouldn't hurt her for not sharing your opinions like Junko did to her.

From that moment on, she tried to be more open about her opinions about your writing, usually very good, but still quite afraid to express constructive criticism.

Poor Mukuro. :(

You wrapped her in your arms and reminded her that she's safe with you and she's allowed to have negative opinions, too.

Mukuro did her best to start giving you constructive criticism, but it's always coupled with an apology for having those feelings or asking you not to hurt her.

It'll take awhile to get her out of that habit, but she will, eventually, and she loves you so much.

She also is one to help you write poems! She'll do those fun games with you.

For example, she gives you a word, and you write a poem based off of it. With enough pushing, she may even join you and write a poem with you!

She absolutely learns to master whatever style you write, whether that be haikus, rhyming couplets, stanzas, or whatever it is you write in your spare time!

She's always the type to ask for tips to improve her writing, stating that she wants to learn from the best of the best, and be like the person she loves.

Mukuro has always been conditioned to believe that she needs to be someone else (Junko), so oftentimes, she'll either try to write like Junko would or write in your style to impress you.

If you tell her that she's perfect as just Mukuro Ikusaba, she will be in tears, mark my words.

But she loves you nonetheless, regardless of your talent, and strives to be like you.

Junko, at first, only liked you because she found you interesting because your poems brought her despair. It doesn't matter if you write about sunshine and unicorns or death and destruction of the world, your poems gave her despair, for whatever reason.

She was curious if you'd be willing to help her and use your poems to brainwash the class a year under hers into her loyal servants of despair.

Of course, you agreed. Your girlfriend had done nothing but loved and supported you, and if all she asked in return was that you use your talent to aid in her goals, you were willing to do so.

Junko tasks you with writing the most despair-inducing poems you possibly can, doing the same thing as Mukuro, and giving you words to base your poems off of. She'd ask that your poems praise despair and diminish hope, promising that she'd convert you to be just like her soon.

You were in love with her, truly, so you agreed. You did want to be with Junko forever, and if a life of despair was what it took for that to happen, you were completely willing. You knew you'd enjoy it soon, anyway.

So you helped her to brainwash Mikan, and Sonia, and Kazuichi, and Teruteru, and Gundham, and Peko, and Fuyuhiko, and everyone else that would soon become the Remnants Of Despair, and even her own sister, Mukuro.

You were in a world of pure despair as Junko manipulated everyone to do her bidding, which you ruled alongside your queen as the Remnants wreaked havoc in the streets.

Eventually, the time came for your reward, as Junko brainwashed you into despair, as well.

You two spread despair with your poetry, with Junko trying her hand at it, as well. That was often a date or some quality time between the two of you.

Except now, your poems all revolved around your genuine love for despair, as well as your love for Junko, which always makes her very happy.

She always insisted you would be happier in despair, and you were! You were grateful to her for converting you, and making the Ultimate Poet fall to despair.

You were her second-in-command, the one behind all her schemes and made them possible, usually with your creativity with words, which made you an excellent speech-maker. You were often the motivational speaker.

But alas, all good things must come to an end, and Junko eventually perished in the line of duty of gifting despair to others.

So what did you do? You followed your beloved queen to the grave, of course.

You would be together forever.

[bisidneycarter]

gonna rate all of the synonyms google have given me for BEAUTIFUL, you want to wait until the end (at least skip to it) i promise.

Attractive

2/10. blunt. uninventive. kind of formal. sort of based on societal norms but i guess all beauty is. well used so ig it gets some points for popularity. but basic imo

Pretty

5/10. it’s... fine. like we use it all the time, right? it’s nice, a gentle sounding word. solid adjective. ppl like to be called pretty? not terribly imaginative though

Handsome

5/10 ngl, forgot this word existed, was kinda the one i was looking for but. normalise using it in reference to women bc it used to be gender neutral or at least more feminine than today. bold but again, not hugely imaginative.

Good-looking

3/10. a mash up of handsome and attractive. too blunt sounding to be complimentary. boring.

Nice-looking

2/10. like the word above but the adjective has been downgraded. booo

Pleasing

1/10. sounds self centred. means nothing to me

Alluring

4/10. certainly different. would be weird to call someone this to their face. but fun for writing probably. i feel like it provides an air of mystery?? but it doesn’t really have a full meaning in my head so eh

Prepossessing

2/10. this means nothing to me quite honestly. 

As pretty as a picture

2/10. idk how to explain this but in my head this phrase screams misogyny so no thank you

Lovely

6/10. it’s gentle and sweet. but kinda boring idk

Charming

7/10. it’s more of a masculine descriptor but I love it used for women too. a nice word for anyone. but doesn’t quite scream beautful, has a different vibe

Delightful

4/10. seems more like how you’d describe a good dessert or something rather than a person, but still somewhat valid?

Appealing

2/10. idk man, just feels icky

Engaging

1/10. in what way would you ever use this in place of beautiful?

Winsome

4/10. points for originality. apparently means ‘innocently beautiful’ and that lowkey feels icky. 

Ravishing

0/10. no.

Gorgeous

3/10. it’s fine. there’s something about it that idk tho. it always sounds patronising idk man

Heavenly

6/10. this one does give me mixed vibes but personally i find it to be a small step up from beautiful. Not to get deep but if heaven is like, where our true happiness may lie or whatever, then someone being heavenly is like them being all of a person’s happiness and future they will ever need

Stunning

5/10. highly complimentary ig. i’d never use it though

Arresting

7/10. this is so random??? but it’s like a ‘my whole world was put on hold and on arrest when i laid eyes on you’ i think. and that’s, pardon the pun, beautiful

Glamorous

5/10. probably great for some ppl but just no for me

Irresistible

5/10. could be either romantic or creepy. context important for the rating of this one.

Bewitching

8/10. has the word witch in it, what’s not to like. magical and i love it. 

Beguiling

5/10. it’s bewitching but with no witch. and a strange pronunciation. but i like the connotations i think

Graceful & Elegant

7/10. putting these two together bc they’re very similar to me. if the character in question is a dancer then what better words are there? highly romanticized i feel.

Exquisite

5/10. i find it kinda weird but it could be good depends on use i suppose.

Aesthetic

4/10. look if we’re describing a mood board then sure, but saying a person specifically is aesthetic is a no. but if it’s like, a nice view of something, then absolutely, go ahead!

Artistic

4/10. i get and also don’t get this one. art can be beautiful. but i dunno if beautiful = artistic ????

Decorative

4/10. ok i definitely gotta remember these synonyms aren’t all about people because obviously a painting can be beautiful. still sounds pretty blunt though. plain. which is actually contradictory to the word lmao

Magnificent

3/10. a great word but not in the place of beautiful. just doesn’t fit

Bonny

2/10. is it really sucky of me to just say ‘outdated’ and move on??

Hot

4/10. look i really hate this personally. maybe its a me-being-ace thing but it feels strange to me. but commonly used and i gotta get over that

Tasty

0/10. what.

Divine

6/10. yes. good! back on track. ‘exquisite’ but better

Knockout

2/10. literally who has used this in place of beautiful i- no! points for amusement 

Drop-dead gorgeous

3/10. i already don’t like gorgeous. this is worse to me

Fanciable

2/10. this one feels mean bc of the suggestion ppl can be ‘unfanciable’ lol idk it’s also boring and uninventive.

Beddable

5/10. i wouldn’t use this. actually i hate this. (as i said, asexual here) but it really cracked me up so i simply have to give it points

Easy on the eye

3/10. this isn’t the compliment ppl think it is to be honest

Fit

2/10. another one i realllly don’t like. boring and more on par with like, ‘sexy’ than ‘beautiful’. which are separate things to me 

Smashing

2/10. that doesn’t mean beautiful pleaseeee

Cute

5/10. it’s fine. common but fine

Foxy

0/10. cringe and i hate it goodbye

Beaut

2/10. i mean that’s just beautiful with a syllable missing. it’s the same thing as the og

Spunky

4/10. this is slang i don’t understand but it sounds fun

Beauteous

2/10. i have only ever heard of this word in the context of ‘beauteous maximus’ and i thus hate it

Comely

3/10. so far away from ‘beautiful’. not even close. do better

Fair

0/10. isn’t this only used for like light skin and/or light hair? the idea that that equals beauty is a big no goodbye

Sightly

1/10. omg it’s ‘easy on the eye’ but worse lol

Pulchritudinous

?????/10. LIKE WHAT IS THAT? what a WORD. DAMN. it’s not even got objectifying connotations or anything it genuinely just means beautiful. WHY. HOW. HOW CAN I EVEN USE THIS IN ANY CONTEXT??? I LOVE AND HATE THIS

and there you have it. beautiful’s synonyms, rated. in conclusion, not many good ones. if you read all this then i’m sorry but at least you probably learnt a new word (pulchritudinous)

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Awake, My Glory

"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music. Awake, my glory! Awake, harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn!" - Psalm 57:7-8

The fifty-seventh Psalm is attributed to David. The time to which it is set down in the title is, "when he fled from Saul in the cave." The writer cries to God for refuge. His soul is among lions. His enemies have prepared a net for his steps. Then he cries as if to arouse himself to joy. "Awake, my glory! Awake, harp and lyre!" The verses of the Psalm which follow give us the music which flows forth from the awakened strings. "I will praise you, O Lord, among the people.. .. For your mercy is great unto the heavens."

Many of us need at times to make this same call upon ourselves to awake. The harps are hanging silent on the walls. The figure of instruments of music sleeping is very suggestive. They are capable of giving forth rich melodies - but not a note is heard from them. There are two thoughts suggested by this prayer. One is that life is meant to be glad, joyous. It is pictured as a harp. The other is, the splendor of life, "Awake, my glory!"

It is to a life of joy and song we are called to awake. Life is a harp. There is a legend of an instrument that hung on a castle wall. Its strings were broken. It was covered with dust. No one understood it, and no fingers could bring music from it. One day a strange visitor appeared at the castle. He saw this silent harp, took it into his hands, reverently brushed away the dust, tenderly reset the broken strings, and then played upon it, and the glad music filled all the castle. This is a parable of every life. Life is a harp, made to give out music - but broken and silent until Christ comes. Then the song awakes. We are called to awake to joy and joy-giving.

Christ's life was a perpetual song. He gave out only cheer. He even started to His cross singing a hymn. When He arose He started songs with His first words, "All hail!" "Peace be unto you." What music did you start yesterday, as you went about? What song is in your heart singing today? "Awake, harp and lyre!"

But there is something else. "Awake, my glory!" Glory is a great word. It has many synonyms and definitions. It means brightness, splendor, luster, honor, greatness, excellence. Every human life has glory in itself. Did you ever try to answer the question, "What is man?" It would take a whole library of books to describe the several parts of a life. Merely to tell of the mechanism of a human hand, to give a list of the marvelous things the hand has done, would fill a volume. Or the eye, with its wonderful structure; the ear, with its delicate functions; the brain, with its amazing processes; the heart, the lungs - each of the organs in a bodily organism is so wonderful, that a whole lifetime might be devoted to the study of anatomy alone - and the subject would not be exhausted!

Think, too, of the intellectual part, with all that the mind of man has achieved in literature, in invention, in science, in art. Think of the moral part, man's immortal nature, that in man which makes him like God, capable of holding communion with God, of belonging to the family of God. When we begin to think even most superficially of what man is, we see an almost infinite meaning in the word "glory" as defining life. "Awake, my glory!"

No one, even in the highest flights of his imagination, ever has begun to dream of the full content of his own life, what it is at present; then what it may become under the influence of divine grace and love. Even now, man redeemed is but "a little lower than God." Then, "it is not yet made manifest what we shall be." The full glory is hidden, unrevealed, as a marvelous rose is hidden in a little bud in springtime. All that we know about our future - is that we shall be like Christ. We are awed even by such a dim hint of what we shall be - when the work in us is completed.

The call to awake implies that the glory which is in us - is asleep. It is a call to all that is in us - of beauty, of power, of strength, of good, of love - to be quickened to reach its best. We are not aware of the grandeur of our own lives. We do not think of ourselves as infolding splendor, as having in us the beauty of immortal life. We travel over seas to look at scenes of grandeur, to wander through are galleries, to study the noble achievements of architecture; while we have in ourselves greater grandeur, rarer beauty, sublimer art - than any land under heaven has to show us. Let us pray to be made conscious of our own glory. "Awake, my glory!"

We are to call out these splendors. The harp is standing silent - when it might be pouring out entrancing music. The hand is folded and idle - when it might be doing beautiful things: painting a picture, that would add to the sum of the world's beauty; doing a deed of kindness, that would give gladness to a gentle heart; visiting a sick or suffering one and winning the commendation, "You did it unto Me!" The power of sympathy is sleeping in your heart - when it might be awakened and be adding strength to human weakness on some of life's battlefields, making struggling ones braver, inspiring them to victory.

Suppose, now, that all the capacity for helping others, lying unawakened in each one's heart and hand, were brought out for just one week and made to do their best - what a vast ministry of kindness would be performed! Suppose that all of each one's capacity, for praising God were called out, that every silent harp and every sleeping psaltery should be waked up and should begin to pour out praise - what a chorus of song would break upon the air! One of the Psalms begins with the call, "Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless his holy name!" That is what this call, "Awake, my glory! Awake, harp and lyre!" means. If we truly wish our glory to be awakened, we must seek to have the best in us called out to its fullest capacity of service.

This story comes from Japan and tells how only the Bible can prove itself true. A man had obtained a Bible and became much interested in it. After reading it, he said, "This is a fine thing in theory - but I wonder how it would work in practice ." On the train on which he was traveling was a lady, who, he was told, was a Christian. He watched her attentively to see how she would act, how her conduct would illustrate the Book in which she believed. He said, "If I can see anything in her conduct like this Book, I will believe it." Before the day was over he had seen in her so many little acts of unselfishness and kindness, so many examples of patience and thoughtfulness, so much consideration for the comfort of her fellow passengers, that he was deeply impressed and resolved to make the Bible the guide and inspirer of his whole life. Thus it is that the glory of our life should be awakened.

In one of Paul's letters to Timothy he gave this young man an earnest charge. Timothy was not living at his best. Paul bade him to stir up the gift of God that was in him. Timothy had abilities - but he was not using them worthily. God had put into his life spiritual gifts, capacities for great usefulness - but Timothy was not exercising His gifts to the full. The glory in him needed to be waked up. "Stir up the gift of God that is in you," bade Paul. The picture in his words, is that of a fire smoldering, covered up, not burning brightly, not giving out its heat. Timothy was bidden to stir up the fire that it might burn into a hot flame. Many Christians need the same exhortation. They have the fire in their hearts - but it needs stirring up. "Awake, my glory!"

Do you think you have been doing your best? Can you think of a day in the past week, which you made altogether as beautiful as you could have made it? Could not the artist's picture have been a little more beautiful, a little broader and nobler in its technique, a little finer in its sentiment? Could not the singer have sung her song a little better, with a little more heart, a little more sweetly! Could not the boys and girls at school have done a little better work and have been a little gentler among their schoolmates? Could not the men have been a little better Christians out in the world; and the women better, kindlier neighbors? The best day any of us ever lived - might we not have made it a little holier, a little fuller of divine love, a little more sacred in its memories? Must not every one of us confess that the glory in us needs awakening?

No doubt the body is a clog to the mind and the soul. Many of us have burning desires for holiness in our hearts - but somehow we have not the power to express the desires. Robert Louis Stevenson wrote to a friend, "You cannot sleep; well, I cannot keep awake." In the lethargic condition of his body, his magnificent intellectual powers were held as in a stupor. No doubt many men with great spiritual fervor are unable to express their earnestness of soul, because they are hampered by an unwholesome somnolence. We need to call upon our souls - to wake up! We need to call upon God - to wake us up.

"Awake, my glory!" The word gives dignity, splendor, honor, greatness, divineness to our life. It calls us to make our lives worthy of the name. The lowliest human life - is glorious in its character, in its possibility, in its destiny.

Recently a Sevres vase, some sixteen inches high, was put up at auction. It was dated 1763. No history of it was given. No one knew where it came from, who made it, or who its owners had been. But the vase was so exquisite in its beauty and so surely genuine, that it brought at auction twenty-one thousand dollars. Yet this rare and costly vase, was once only a mere lump of common clay and a few moist colors. The value was in the toil and skill of the artist who shaped and colored it with such delicate patience and such untiring effort. He did his best, and the vase today witnesses to his faithfulness.

If we would only always do our best in all our work, we would live worthily of the glory that is in us.

The Parthenon at Athens was encircled within by a sculptured frieze, five hundred and twenty feet in length. It was chiefly the work of Phidias. The figures on the frieze were life-size, and stood fifty feet above the floor of the temple. For nearly two thousand years the work remained undisturbed and nearly in its original state. By the explosion of a bomb-shell, the frieze was shattered about the close of the seventeenth century and fell upon the pavement. Then it was found that in every smallest detail the work was perfect. Phidias wrought, as he said, for the eyes of the gods - for no human eyes saw his work at its great height. It is in this spirit, that we should do all our work - not for men's eyes - but for God's. We should do perfect work, for no other work is worthy of the doer. "Awake, my glory!" Do your smallest task as beautifully as if you were doing a piece of heavenly ministry, and were working for the very eye of the Master Himself!

Let us set higher ideals for ourselves. We are not merely dust - we are immortal spirits. We are children of God - and this dignifies the smallest, lowliest things we do. Sweeping a room for Christ - is glorious work. Cobbling shoes may be made as radiant service in heaven's sight - as angel ministry before God's throne. The glory is in us - and we must live worthily of it. Let us call out our best skill, our rarest power, for everything we do. Our days should be ascending days in the scale, each one made more beautiful than the last. We never get to the best opportunity - tomorrow will bring us into a more heavenly atmosphere, than today's.

This is the call to us in all life. There is no end to life. There is always something beyond. Life is immortal. When our glory awakens and presses on, it will always find something beyond. Only heaven is the end.

"Awake, my glory!" Shall we not make this demand upon ourselves! We are asleep - and cannot wake up. Yet we must wake up - or we shall perish spiritually. The parable speaks of those whom their Lord had set to watch - but whom He warned against sleeping. "Lest when he comes and finds them sleeping ." We need to pray for nothing more earnestly, than for power to keep awake.

We must get awake first ourselves. "Awake, my glory!" Then it is a great thing to be an awakener of others. Some men have this power in large measure. Everyone who comes near them is quickened, becomes more widely awake, is inspired to live better. Christ awakened the glory of His disciples. They were plain men, without the education of the schools, without the art of eloquence; but they lived with their Master, and He taught them, put Himself into their lives, then sent them forth. Every particle of the glory in them - was awakened, and they went out and woke up the world. That is what God wants us to do. Get awakened yourself, and then wake up your friends.

Shall we be content to stay asleep any longer? Must our harps still hang silent on the wall, giving out no music? Must the glory in us continue to sleep? Shall we not rather call upon ourselves to awake and then call upon God to awake us? Then our lives shall open into beauty and into power. Then shall we be the people God wants us to be!

[goldngguk]

limerence // 01

warnings // yandere behavior, strong language, fluff 

word count // 2.1k

"You'll come to find that the terms obsession and addiction go hand to hand in psychology. Often times they are used as synonyms for one another."

Jimin sat in the back of the room, twirling his pencil between his fingers as he inwardly groaned. He couldn't stress enough how boring this class was. His teacher, Mr. June, was old and was constantly trying to act young and cool, which only made things worse. His textbook made next to no sense, and the assignments were poorly designed. In other words, Jimin hated psychology.

He slumped down in his desk, watching the seconds tick by causing him to roll his eyes. Oh, this is agonizing. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Alright, now that we've finished unit two, it's time to discuss your next paper." Crickets. "It's the most important grade you'll receive in this class." Nothing. Mr. June sighed. "It's not due until May."

It seemed as if the whole class was alive again. Even Jimin's ears perked up. What could be so important about a paper that it would take an entire semester to complete?

"Your task is to observe someone outside of this class for three months. On May 3rd, you will turn in a paper that analyzes your subject as well as required notes to prove you actually did the work. Trust me, I can tell when someone just pulls a paper about their imaginary friend out of thin air." Sure you can. "You have to prove that you were actually watching your subject. I'll pass out the rubrics."

Jimin grabbed the paper from the man, flashing him a toothy smile that he met with his own. Jimin didn't even have to try, really. He was just one of those people who everyone adored. He could probably pass the class without even writing a sentence for the stupid paper. In fact, Jimin could probably get away with just about anything.

Mr. June dismissed the class and Jimin gathered his things and left the lecture hall. "Hey, Jimin! Wait up!"

Taehyung, Jimin's best friend and roommate who had joined the class with him, jogged up. "What do you think about this," he asked, waving the rubric in his hand.

Jimin just shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I don't really have an interest in it."

Taehyung nodded. "Don't you think it's a little creepy? I mean, we're supposed to stalk- sorry, observe someone for three months and then analyze them like an experiment? What the hell is that?"

Jimin chuckled at him. "He didn't say you couldn't tell. Just ask someone for their permission. Otherwise, yes. Essentially, we are stalkers now."

"Who are you gonna watch?"

"I'm not sure yet. Like I said, I'm not really that interested in it."

"Oh well, I'm sure you'll find someone. Damn. It sounds like I'm giving you dating advice."

"Please, if anyone needs advice about girls, it's you."

Taehyung scoffed as they reached the front doors of the campus. "Do you have another class?"

"No, not today, but I was gonna head up to the library and get some work done. I'll see you later."

"Ok. I'll see you at home." He stopped in his tracks before turning back to Jimin. "And for the record, I don't need help with girls."

"Oh please. I know exactly who you're going to watch and you'll end up stalking her because you can't even say one word to her without choking on your own tongue. You need serious help."

"I- fine. But I can't help it! Taylor makes me nervous."

"Goodbye, Tae." Taehyung started for his car as Jimin made his way to the library upstairs. Sitting down at a table in the back, he pulled out his books with the intent of focusing on anything but the paper.

-

Jimin couldn't focus. No specific reason. He just could not focus. Maybe he wasn't in the right headspace. He packed up his things after deciding he'd probably get more done at home. He stepped outside, the cold air hitting his slightly puffy cheeks.

Keep in mind, it was January, so he probably could have been more cautious. But if he had, he wouldn't have met you, now would he?

Jimin crossed the street between campus and the parking lot when he fell; both literally and figuratively. He slipped on a patch of ice and his legs flew up from underneath him. He landed on his back. Hard.

"Oh my god! Are you alright?"

Someone rushed over to him, putting their hand on his back as they crouched down. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was- just-..." Oh wow.

Pretty was an understatement. Beautiful fell short. Stunning was nothing compared to the girl kneeling by his side. Now, maybe it was the fact that he'd nearly hit his head and his tailbone felt like it was on fire, but jesus christ, how the hell could someone look so... so perfect. She wore a puffy black coat with a beanie that helped frame her magnificent face. She had strong features. He probably would've been intimidated if it weren't for the fact that he was fatally attracted to her. The mittens she had on were far too large to be her actual hand size. She looked absolutely adorable. She smiled down at him, the tip of her nose pink from frostnip. "Come on, she said. "Let's get you on your feet." She helped him dust the snow off his back before looking up at him. She was shorter than him, making him feel manly despite the hard fall he just took. "It's Jimin, right?" He looked into her eyes. Such pretty eyes. His textbook says that eyes are the windows to the soul, in which case she is warm and soft. Innocent.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me." He smiled back at her.

Jimin was not what'd you'd call 'a lady's man', but he knew what to do and what to say. He wasn't the kind of person who got nervous. Besides, everyone loved him. He could charm the pants off anyone.

"That was quite the fall you had there. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks. You know my name?"

"Yeah. I've seen you around campus before. I figured everyone kinda just knows who you are."

"Well, I don't know who you are. What's your name? And you have to tell me, seeing as how you just saved me. Otherwise, I'll just have to go find out." She giggled as if he were joking.

"I didn't save you, I was just making sure you were okay."

"Whatever you say, hero." She laughed again. It was very quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds. It was high pitched, but not too high or squeaky. There was a perfect balance to it. One that he appreciated.

"I'm Y/n," you said while extending your hand for him to shake. He took it, wishing he could feel the soft skin concealed under the wool mitt. He would compare the sizes of your hands, hoping yours would be somewhat smaller than his own.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n. How come I've never seen you around before?"

"I'm not really someone who lives to be seen. I just come to class and go to work." He liked that. Not someone who likes to be seen. Every girl he'd ever dated was the life of the party; they demanded everyone's attention and it exhausted him. Y/n was the opposite. She was kind and quiet. Someone he could take care of, someone to shelter. And that excited him. If he was being honest, he'd always wanted someone for himself. Someone he alone could love and protect and he would never have to share. Almost like an animalistic instinct he tended not to dwell on, or rather one he just hadn't picked up on yet.

It dawned on him that there was no way this was a coincidence. First, there had been the paper about analyzing someone outside of his class. Then he couldn't focus in the library which led him to slip on the ice and fall right into her arms. It was at that moment he decided: he needed to see you again, had to get to know you. You were his person; his subject. He was going to observe you.

"Well, I should get going. I have to be at work in an hour."

"Oh." Jimin started to panic. If he let you go now, there was no way he'd see you again. He needed to find out more about you if he was going to use you for his paper topic, and eventually a whole lot more. "Um. Before you go, could you at least give me your number?"

She tilted her head to the side in a teasing manner, lips parting. "Why would you need that," she smiled. He chuckled, smirking as he shifted his gaze to his feet. Y/n pulled out her phone from her coat pocket. "Here. Give me yours. This way you can repay me for saving you." He handed her his phone while grabbing hers, typing his contact in as 'the cute clutz'. She hummed at the nickname.

She waved goodbye to him as he called out, "I do plan on thanking you, by the way!"

"Looking forward to it!"

He was in.

-

Jimin raced home, tossing his stuff on his bed and dashing for his laptop. He pulled up your contact on his phone, praying you had put your last name instead of a cute nickname. Damnit. Just Y/n. Plan B. He went onto the campus website and searched for a student directory. Typing in your first name, he found fourteen other Y/ns listed. He clicked on each individual profile and waited for the picture to appear. After a couple of minutes, he struck gold.

Campus Profiles:

Y/n L/n

Age: 21

Major: Pre Med

Email: y/nl/n@gmail.com

That was all the information he needed to be able to find you everywhere else. He added the email to your contact and began looking for you on every platform he could think of.

Your Instagram was public, which he chuckled at. Oh, sweetheart. Don't you know it's dangerous to leave your accounts available for anyone to see? He considered whether he should wait until he knew you personally before following you or not. Inevitably, he pressed the follow button and requested to be notified every time a post was made. Facebook was next, which wasn't any harder. Then twitter and snapchat. It was almost too easy, due to the fact that you used the same username for everything. He learned about your family, your closest friends and past relationships, where you worked, your likes and dislikes, favorite music genres, favorite food, etc. Basically, any detail he could think of was written somewhere on one of your profiles. He got so lucky. He wrote down everything he thought was noteworthy. After all, Professor June did say he needed to prove he was doing his work.

Now, he really did mean to just be your friend. All of this was just to get close to you so he could complete this stupid paper. But it was like Mr. June was saying in his lesson. Addiction and obsession are essentially the same things; once you're in, you can't get out. And Jimin was in. He just didn't know it yet.

previous // masterlist // next

a.n. // Oof I am so beyond excited for this series!! I'm not sure how long it will be yet or when exactly I will post new chapters, I'm just kinda going with the flow. Please let me know what you think, I would love to hear from you! Also, if you would like to be added to my taglist, just ask! And don't forget to go check out my Jungkook series: Trilogy! -Kay 💕

taglist // @kalisica @darkdragonskies @chinkbihh

[thisbitchinthecorner]

Last Saturday Night Day 27- Champagne

Once again, a day late! This one breaks my format a bit, but it’s filled with lots of memories from previous chapters and it’s just pure fluff. After all our husbands have been through, they deserve a little fluff ❤️ For @drawlight Here’s the link to my collection on A03 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21756760

Champagne Prompt!

An angel and a demon walk through the grande doors of the famous London hotel, a hotel synonymous with class, luxury and wealth. There was nothing unusual about the pair sharing a meal together, in fact, they had been doing so for more than several millennia at this point. But tonight, this night, was special.

“Your regular table, Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley.” The hostess chirped as she escorted the gentlemen to their seats.

“What will it be tonight angel? Hay aged bresse duck? Cornish brill? Anjous pigeon?” Crowley asked as he peered over his menu at the angel.

“I’m thinking langoustine to start, then perhaps the fallow deer or the Cornish turbot.” Aziraphale mused over the options.

“How about a little Chateau Lafite Pauillac to start with?” Crowley suggested, raising his eyebrow as he made his suggestion.

“Red? Suppose that settles it then, I’ll have the fallow deer. Oh! It comes with chestnuts! How lovely!” Aziraphale hummed happily to himself.

The courses were brought out, one by one, and yet all of them somehow found their way in front of the angel. Crowley, ever content with wine, marveled at his beloved’s enjoyment.

“Angel, what do you remember about our first time dining here together?” The demon asked.

“I remember the waiters ogling over you and your tight pants.”

“Ha! You ordered so much food, and they had to leave the cheese tray on a tray table.”

“You ordered a £1300 bottle of wine!” Aziraphale argued.

“You ordered a second bottle of that £1300 wine.”

“And then you ordered a £3000 bottle of champagne!”

“I have standards, you know.” Crowley smirked, recalling the angel’s phrase from years back.

“That was the night you stole the silver dessert fork.” Aziraphale, clearly embarrassed, whispered.

“Our bill was damn near £8000, of course I was taking the damn fork. Besides, I’m a demon, remember?” Crowley laughed as took a drink from his crystal wine goblet.

“How could I forget.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. His posture softened and a smile crept over his face. “I remember how you lit up when you walked into the dining room. How it filled you with wonder, reminds me of the time we saw the Northern Lights together”

“I remember how jealous you were of that one waiter. Reminds me of the time we got snowed in at that writer’s manor.”

“I remember how you showed up at my door with a box of those Italian chocolates I’m so fond of. The ones you brought over that first night you stayed at the shop.”

“How your eyes shone in the soft light of the dining room, the way they did back at that wedding in Scotland.” Crowley glanced over at his angel. “Our very first dance.”

“I remember.” Aziraphale laughed, delighted by the memory. “We were rubbish dancers.”

“We still are.” Crowley threw his head back as he laughed. He grew quiet after a moment. “Even though we are terrible, would you fancy a dance, angel?”

“Now? Here?” The flustered angel asked.

“Now. Here.” Crowley nodded, as he stood up and extended his hand to Aziraphale, who gladly accepted.

They were a bit stiff, and awkward as they fumbled to find the rhythm, yet as always, they were patient with each other and comfortably sank into their routine. The dance mimicked the one they had been doing for centuries; the longing, the waiting, the little kindnesses and grand gestures. Crowley leads and eventually Aziraphale catches up. They belonged to each other, neither Heaven nor Hell could put asunder.

The music concluded, and they sat back down at their usual table, both a bit red from the applause of the other diners.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began quietly.

“Yes angel?”

“That was very nice.”

Nice. I’m not nice, angel. Well maybe just this once. The demon grumbled a bit as he called over to their waiter. “Dessert, my love?”

“Oh! Have you ever known me to say no?” Aziraphale giggled. “I do believe we would like that very special champagne now too.”

“Of course sirs.” The waiter said as he quickly slipped away.

“Angel, I’ve been thinking. We’ve been on this planet for how long now?” Crowley asked, a nervous tone in his voice.

“Not nearly long enough if you ask me. Why do you ask, my darling?”

“Well, I mean, we’ve been living with the humans for ages, and I’ve come to enjoy their...traditions and practices.” Crowley fidgeted in his seat. “Especially the celebration of their unions.”

“My dear, are you alright?” Aziraphale asked gently. “Ah good! Dessert and champagne are here!” The angel winked to the waiter. “This is your glass, my love. I propose a toast.”

Crowley nearly spilt the contents of his flute, as he reached for the glass in the attempt to calm his nerves.

“Oh dear no! Don’t drink all of it!” Aziraphale cried, as Crowley choked on spirits and something metal. Aziraphale leapt from his seat and hit the demon on the back, the object flew out and landed on their dessert. Both beings looked mortified.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned.” Aziraphale frowned.

“Look at the damn cake, angel.” Crowley, still coughing, said finally.

He looked down at the marvelous confection set in front of him; heavenly angel food cake, topped with fresh strawberries and a glittering object sitting inside a small velvet box: a gold ring in the shape of a coiled serpent, in the center, just beside the serpent’s head, a massive blood red ruby. “Oh? Oh!” Aziraphale screamed as he continued to stare at the magnificent piece of jewelry.

“But this is for you!” The angel, still speaking in a volume much louder than usual, cried as he picked up the item that had lodged itself in the demon’s throat. “You see, I had this made for you because I love you so much and I want us to be together, always!”

Crowley looked down at the ring in the angel’s hand; a thick band with a hand carved black gold feather on one side and a platinum feather on the other, both meeting in the middle. In the center, two large diamonds, one black the other white, shining together and reflecting the other’s beauty. The demon continued to stare, unable to process what was happening.

“Is..is this for me?” Crowley stammered. “Because that is for you, and I was going to ask you to...”

“Yes!” Aziraphale squealed. “Yes! Yes of course I will!”

“Guess that’s it then.” Crowley offered a smile as he took the ring from his angel’s hand and admired it, turning it over in his hand.

“See? We meet in the middle, it’s our side.” The angel, finally able to control the volume of his voice cooed as he slipped in onto the demon’s finger.

“It’s perfect.” Crowley grinned.

“Well, aren’t you going to put mine on?” Aziraphale pouted.

“Right.” The demon pulled the ring from the cake and once more admired his handiwork: the intricate scales laid with black and red enamel, the two flawless yellow diamonds as the eyes on the snake, the exquisite red of the massive Burmese ruby. “I made this for you.” He blushed as he slid the serpent ring onto the angel’s finger. “Took me ages to get it right.”

“You made this?”

“Well, I had a lot of time to plan, so I sort of wanted to do it myself no miracles, just me.” Crowley shrugged.

“I love you so much, my darling.” Aziraphale purred with joy.

“So that’s it then? Right.” Crowley hailed their waiter for more champagne.

“We should have it on the Welsh countryside, where we picnicked with Warlock. That was indeed such a lovely place. Or here, at The Ritz in the springtime!” Aziraphale chatted happily as the demon relaxed into his seat. “And there will be flowers, oh lots of flowers, red, white and....”

In his mind, he imagined a grand romantic gesture, one worthy of all those novels his angel was so fond of. But, of course, nothing ever turned out the way he planned. But it always worked out in the end, and as long as they were together, everything would turn out fine.

[tare-chan]

Frozen 2 Thoughts

Okay, so I want to share my thoughts on Frozen 2. Thus.... Spoiler under the cut

First of all... I must agree with what the critics’ said. This movie feels more mature and darker. I don’t know, perhaps it’s because it told Elsa’s side of story. As we know, Elsa is portrayed as the dark/night/ yin side of Anna who’s more cheerful, bright, sunny side/yang side. 

And I also feel this movie is not a ‘Princess’ movie. But more like.... a superhero movie? Don’t get me wrong... I still love this movie, but I didn’t feel the ‘oomph’ like what I felt back then when I’ve just finished watching the first one. 

But still I like it. 

I get the theme. It’s about ‘growing up’. You know, when you’re growing up, and need to make choices. The ones that would affect the rest of your life?? Like whether you’ll want to go to college, or straight to work. Which college to go. Like whether you’ve met the right man/woman to spend the rest of your life with. Like whether you want to have child or children now, or later. etc. 

Those can be scary sometimes. And I know. Been there, done that. 

This movie is about that.

Elsa finally get her ‘acceptance’, live happy life with those she loved, rules a beautiful kingdom. But..... apparently, she wasn’t meant to be there. There’re something that still need her attention. And to get there, she needs to leave all of those comforts away. Of course the way was full with uncertainties, difficulties, and at some point, she needed to leave those she loved behind. And she made it. Totally love how badass Elsa was in this movie. (when she managed to control Nok, the horse spirit of water.... I need to bite my tongue so that I don’t scream “That’s my QUEEEN!!” .... ahem... pardon me...)

Anna already have her happy simple life. But she was supposed to step up, took the light, and escaped her sister’s shadow, and took responsibilities as a royal. This growth of her especially prominent when she stood up in that dark cave. Took the leap. Swallowed her misery. Squared her shoulder. Took her spot as second in line of the throne. And give her first command to the lieutenant (who obeyed her, of course). Totally love this scene. 

Kristoff..... I think he took the spot as comic reliever in this movie. I mean, he already took the choice to choose Anna, but a clumsy man that he was, those opportunities always end in miscommunication ^^; poor man. That 80′s themed songs really make me snickered, btw. I mean... ouughh.. how many years has it been since the last time I saw that kinda jokes XD

Olaf also grows. I can’t believe it. But he did. Apparently, an animated snowman can also learn from his surroundings. And well... his ‘goodbye’ to Anna make me teared up. He didn’t complain. He accepted his fate just like that. Wow...

Another highlight, the scenery!! Oh.... My.... God..... Those scenery were ..... more than beautiful... awesome.... magnificent.... (just put any other synonyms for amazing here). The vibrant color, the lighting, the different types of scenery, the wind, the water, the snow. Oh... My... God...... I really need to re-watch this movie, in 3D, to appreciate the hardwork behind this. 

The music. I have to admit. The first time I heard ‘Into the Unknown’, I didn’t like it. Really. Especially since the genre is rock? Slow rock? I’m not sure. But I didn’t like it. But after watching the movie itself, the song stuck in my head. It really did. Even the ‘calling’ Ah-Ah-Ah.... stuck in my head. It’s crazy. XD 

Btw, somehow Elsa really showed ‘superhero’ traits in this movie. Don’t want to share the burden, don’t want the loved one getting hurt that she pushed Anna and Olaf away in an ice boat. But at the same time, despite her enormous power, she still need the help from (powerless) Anna. She really reminds me of Spider-Man. LOL.... don’t @ me XD Both of them are my favorites. So yeah.... 

So yeah, this second movie didn’t have great impact like the first one, but I still love this movie. And I can’t wait to read what you guys think. 

[ladybalem]

Wicked Girl - a Confession about Eddie Kreezer - part 1 of 2

* It's the eighties, and the place it's any hick State of the USA, and a girl takes a hitchhiking with an attractive chap in his truck. He's a  synonym of  confusion for sure, but she just can't leave no more. Because along with Eddie Kreezer that's how the things work, darlin'. He got the power of letting you with your four wheels stroked for him. And done. * Based on an Eddie Kreezer's dream that was told to me. Pairing: Eddie x Glenda * * *          It should be very late at night, although Glenda hadn't no clock to check the time, and she actually didn't worry with this not even a little, sat down as she was on the rider's seat on Eddie's white truck, having arms and legs crossed, observing with no much attention and not even interest to the landscape ahead, because actually there wasn't not much to be seen. The road was straight and this way it kept going as far as the eyes could see and it was, by the exception of they, completely desert, and at their right a wide planted ground did spread itself for kilometers and at their left, a wide empty camp, practically treeless, presenting just a very raw  vegetation which was a bit dry because of the heat of the season. The sky was dark and a bit starlit, only a big moon surrounded by a halo of light was capturing a little Glenda's attention, but even to it she had yet get tired to look at. Actually she would in a few minutes to be about to end falling asleep right there, just sat down as she was, if Eddie didn't find soon a motel for they to spend the night, cause the boring had installed itself in Glenda and everything she was getting to do it was to yawn, until Eddie to decrease the speed and suddenly stops, braking a little bit brusquely, what took her off from an almost nap that was close to get to take over her right at that instant and, for a moment, Glenda, without to understand why they had stopped, she looked through the window, slightly straightening herself, as she asked, with a sleepy voice:          - Eddie... Hey... Why did we stop?          Pulling the hand brake, Eddie itched his balls before to arrange the black cowboy hat he was wearing even inside the automobile  and in spite of being night, as he turned his face to look at her in a quick way:          - I need to piss - and saying it he just opened the door, getting out of the truck, and Glenda saw how he contoured it, limping with a leg as it was his habit, the jeans he wore suddenly hit by the yellowish bright of the headlights as he passed in front of them, going away forward.          With a sigh, Glenda rubbed her eyes with the palms of her both hands next to her wrists for some while, until she raise her glance to the sky out there once more before to lower it to the figure of Eddie detached ahead, in part by the white shirt he was wearing and by the dying clarity of the moon, in part by the low headlights. And without to know very much the reason why, Glenda deviated it then to the radio and, lifting a hand she turned it on, any country music hit sounding as she frowned her nose, leading then her slender fingers to the band selector, to which she started to turn slowly, searching for something that pleased her. The radio stations passed one after another, being tuned in sequence to the static noises between one and another, and didn't finding nothing that was of her taste, with a sad yawning Glenda raised her eyes once more, observing Eddie who, half on his back and half on his side to her, was doing the movement of who was opening his jeans to release himself at the first high bushes of the planted ground at the edges of the hard shoulder, and at this right  instant she tuned something that made her smile: It was Glenda's favorite song, and without to think she just put the volume up, already feeling the sleep to abandon her for whole.          Jumping over the switchgear with her long legs, she passed to the driver's side, getting out through the door  Eddie had left open, cause Glenda just couldn't resist. That was the song she loved the most to dance in her life, although she have did it at the most of times, if not all of them, inside of her bedroom, before to get out of her home getting out through the world hitchhiking and meeting to that sexy, crazy and insolent chap to whom deep inside she adored. And the fact the road was desert and night was hot thrilled Glenda in such a way that she needed to dance it, that way, simply, taken by an unexplained joy, and as she stepped the asphalt with her boots she started to, as she liked to think to herself that she used to, to  "sensualize", although she was doing it just to herself, momentarily forgotten even about of the Eddie's presence ahead, the how much instantaneously radiant she felt. There was a long time Glenda didn't listen to that song and a much longer time she didn't dance it, and a sudden joy took her entire being, what made her to took a long time to notice that, right ahead, zipping up his pants with an intrigued air on his amused face, Eddie was attentively observing her.          Little by little the surprise stamped on his features began to turn into another thing and, turning into Glenda's way, Eddie stopped with both hands at his waist, looking at Glenda dancing with a smile on his face and his eyes shining with the desire that was yet starting to grow inside him as the image of hers, seeming so happy, amused him a lot. And as she noticed that, Glenda's first reaction was to feel a little shy and to get a little mixed up, but soon something inside her felt pleased with the glance he was dedicating her and Glenda started then, purposely, to dance at that time for him, slightly leaning her body or hands on the truck while looking at Eddie, smiling him a little smirk and sometimes biting her lipstick's red lip, actually  having fun with her own courage of to be doing that in front of someone for the first time. Feeling herself incredibly flirting with this fact she was little by little discovering how much herself enjoyed to dance to tease a man, something she didn't know about herself and that encouraged her to carry on and even to increment her performance.          Not that it was necessary to  tease Eddie, that at that time, as he was seeing Glenda's beautiful body moving itself with so many agility and so sensually, he just could to think about one single thing. And soon that  magnificent sight just made his body to respond almost  immediately, and he was still able to feel his arousal pricking on his loins while looking at her, not getting to put his eyes away from Glenda not even for a second, having a smile on his face; but when she started to try to excel even more to what she was doing, Glenda's sight it was too much for Eddie, who raised his voice to tell her:          - Hey, Glenda, I didn't know you could dance that good, darlin'.          Smiling and lowering her eyes for a moment, Glenda slid her hands through the truck's hood  while giving a spin and throwing her curly hair, don't stopping to move her hips before to look at him again and at this right  instant their eyes met, as Glenda smiled in a very flirting way, passing the tongue through her lips before to bit it again, don't stopping to dance.  And tensely by now Eddie took his hands off from his waist, and leading them to his hat, he pulled it out of his head for a moment to itch his hair before to replace it, momentarily turning his face aside with a deep  inhaling and exhalation before to look at Glenda again, as he said, with a smirk:          - You're fucking tempting me, you shameless girl! (to be continued...)

[quarantingz]

shoutout to people (and bees)

13 April at (precisely) 3 pm

A lot has happened since I last posted and I haven’t been able to put the magnificence of it — of God and the mysterious ways in which He works into words. But I’ll try. I’m sitting here gobsmacked and puzzled yet full of revelation and understanding all at once. I don’t know what exactly came over me when I decided to come clean to my sister and my best friend last night about my shortcomings, wrongdoings or whatever you want to call it. My pursuit of worldly riches and pleasures is how I’ll put it. This newly found boldness and vulnerability made me realise that there’s nothing left to lose anymore. It’s funny that I use these two words, bold and vulnerable, in juxtaposition as they used to have such polar opposite meanings in my book but with time I’ve come to realise are actually synonymous. In fact Seth Godin author of The Icarus Deception even writes “Boldness in her vulnerability” when describing Susan Cain’s TED talk about the power of being an introvert. Beauty, fame, perfection or the mere appearance of them all are no longer important. Meaningful relationships — ones where you’re unafraid of what the other person would think of you in deciding to open up to them and having this shared understanding of what it means to be human which lately to me translates to being vulnerable, are all that matter at this point. Since iso (which could be a hashtag at this point, #sinceiso) I’ve been clinging for dear life onto people and the connections I have with them. I’ve tried to be more intentional and attuned in my conversations with family, friends, loved ones and even our longtime neighbours Barbara and Joy who we used to spite for not minding her own business and always making unsolicited comments about our untended lawn being an eyesore (we no longer think this of her). All in all, there’s been nothing but gratitude and love in my heart the past two weeks which I just wanted to put in writing and I guess “out there.” 

I made a tweet which at first I intended to be semi-humorous about being in love with so many people right now but I actually mean it with all my heart. I’m in love with my mum, dad, two sisters, friends who have stuck around and those I’ve lost touch with but briefly talked to when they greeted me on my birthday, my aforementioned neighbours, strangers I pass on my runs and writers of articles about the coronavirus and the lasting impact it will have on anything and everything — just people in general. 

To close this unexpected entry, I had an epiphany while doing the dishes at 11pm after my unconventional yet memorable 21st birthday shindig. As I was putting the last dish away (a heavy cast iron skillet that gives whatever you’re cooking those gorgeous grill marks), I realised at this ripe age of 21, moving forward all I want my life to stand for is to serve people. Whether that’s doing my job of creating seamless end-to-end user experiences well, listening closely whenever someone is talking to me or cooking for my family, I want to do it with intention and sincerity.

P.S. The photo I used here was accidentally taken during my lengthy and fulfilling run yesterday when I tried to change the song on my phone while it was strapped to my arm. If you look closely, or maybe you won’t even need to as it’s pretty obvious, a bee or some sort of insect made a surprise appearance. Cathy said that these little creatures sometimes seem like they’re trying to tell us something... more on that later. Peace!

- p

[meditativeyoga]

`Creative` is having the divine spark

Creativity has nothing to do with any kind of activity specifically-- with painting, verse, dancing, singing. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything in particular.

Anything can be creative-- you bring that high quality to the task. Task itself is neither innovative neither uncreative. You can repaint in an uncreative means. You can sing in an uncreative means. You could clean the floor in an innovative method. You could cook in an imaginative way.

Creativity is the high quality that you bring to the task you are doing. It is a perspective, an inner technique-- how you look at things.

So the initial thing to be born in mind is: do not restrict imagination to anything particularly. A male is imaginative-- as well as if he is creative, whatsoever he does, also if he strolls, you could see in his walking there is creative thinking. Even if he rests quietly and does absolutely nothing, also non-doing will certainly be an innovative act. Buddha, resting under the Bodhi Tree not doing anything, is the best maker the world has ever known.

Once you comprehend it-- that it is you, the individual, that is innovative or uncreative-- then this issue disappears.

Not everybody could be a painter, and also there is no demand likewise. If everyone is a painter the world will certainly be very hideous, it will be tough to live. And also not everyone could be a dancer, as well as there is no requirement. Yet everybody can be creative.

Whatsoever you do, if you do it happily, if you do it lovingly, if your act of doing it is not purely economical, then it is creative. If you have something outgrowing it within you, if it provides you development, it is spiritual, it is creative, it is divine.

You ended up being much more magnificent as you become much more innovative. All the religions of the globe have actually stated: God is the designer. I aren't sure whether he is the creator or not, but one thing I understand: the more creative you come to be, the more Godly you end up being. When your creative thinking concerns an orgasm, when your whole life comes to be creative, you live in godliness.

Love what you do. Be reflective while you are doing it-- whatsoever it is, pointless of the fact of just what it is.

Creativity suggests loving whatsoever you do-- taking pleasure in, commemorating it, as a present of presence! Possibly nobody comes to recognize about it. The value is intrinsic.

So if you are searching for popularity as well as obtain imaginative-- also if you come to be as popular as Pablo Picasso-- you will certainly miss it. You are, in truth, not creative at all: you are a politician, enthusiastic. If fame occurs, excellent. If it does not occur, excellent. It needs to not be the factor to consider. The consideration should be that you are enjoying whatsoever you are doing. It is your love-affair.

If your act is your love-affair, then it ends up being innovative. Tiny points end up being excellent by the touch of love and also delight.

The questioner asks: "I believed I was uncreative." If you rely on in this way, you will become uncreative-- since belief is not just belief. It opens up doors or it closes doors. If you have an incorrect belief, then that will hang around you as a closed door. If you believe that you are uncreative, you will end up being uncreative-- because that belief will certainly block, continually negate, all opportunities of streaming. It will not enable your energy to stream because you will constantly say: "I am uncreative."

This has been shown to everybody. Few individuals are accepted as imaginative: A couple of painters, a couple of poets-- they are one in a million. This is foolish! Every person is a born creator. Watch youngsters and you will certainly see: every one of them are imaginative. Soon, we ruin their creative thinking. Soon, we force wrong beliefs on them. By and by, we sidetrack them. Soon, we make them a lot more and a lot more economical, political and ambitious.

When ambition enters, creativity vanishes-- because an ambitious guy could not be imaginative, because an ambitious man could not enjoy any kind of task for its very own sake. While he is painting he is looking in advance, he is thinking, 'When am I getting a Nobel Reward?' When he is creating a novel, he is looking in advance. He is always in the future however a creative individual is constantly in the present.

We destroy creative thinking. No one is born uncreative, but we make 99 per cent of individuals uncreative.

But just throwing the responsibility on the society is not going to help, you need to take your life in your very own hands. You have to go down all incorrect conditionings. You have to go down wrong, hypnotic auto-suggestions that have been offered to you in your youth. Drop them! Cleanse yourself of all conditionings ... and suddenly you will certainly see you are creative.

To be and also to be imaginative are synonymous. It is difficult to be and not to be creative. Yet that difficult point has taken place, that hideous phenomenon has actually taken place, since all your creative resources have been plugged, blocked, ruined, as well as your whole power has been compelled into some task that the culture thinks is mosting likely to pay.

Our entire perspective about life is money-oriented. And also loan is one of one of the most uncreative things one can become interested in. Our entire method is power-oriented as well as power is damaging, not innovative. A man that wants money will become damaging, due to the fact that cash has actually to be burglarized, exploited, it has actually to be removed from lots of individuals, only after that can you have it. Power merely suggests you have to make lots of people impotent, you need to destroy them-- only after that will certainly you be powerful, could you be powerful.

Remember: these are damaging acts. An imaginative act improves the beauty of the world, it gives something to the world, it never ever takes anything from it. A creative person enters into the globe, improves the elegance of the world-- a tune here, a painting there. He makes the world dance better, delight in far better, love much better, practice meditation better. When he leaves this world, he leaves a better globe behind him. No one could know him, someone may understand him-- that is not the point. He leaves the world a far better world, significantly satisfied because his life has been of some inherent value.

Money, power, status, are uncreative, not only uncreative, yet damaging tasks. Be careful of them! And if you are cautious of them you could come to be creative really easily. I am not stating that your creative thinking is mosting likely to give you power, stature, money. No, I could not guarantee you any kind of rose-gardens. It may provide you trouble. It might compel you to live a pauper's life. All that I could promise you is that deep inside you will certainly be the wealthiest male possible, deep inside you will certainly be met, deep inside you will certainly contain joy and celebration. You will certainly be continually obtaining a growing number of blessings from God. Your life will certainly be a life of benediction.

But it is feasible that ostensibly you could not be famous, you could not have money, you may not do well in the supposed world. To succeed in this supposed globe is to fail deeply, is to fail in the within globe. And also just what are you going to do with the entire world at your feet if you have lost your own self? Exactly what will you do if you have the entire globe and you don't possess on your own? An innovative person has his very own being, he is a Master.

That's why in the East we have been calling sannyasins as swamis. The word swami suggests a master. Beggars have actually been called swamis, masters. Emperors we have actually recognized, however they showed in the final account, in the final verdict of their lives, that they were beggars. A guy that is after loan as well as power as well as stature is a beggar, due to the fact that he continuously asks. He has nothing to provide to the world.

Be a giver. Share whatsoever you can! And keep in mind, I am not making any type of difference between little things and also terrific points. If you can smile whole-heartedly, hold somebody's hand and also smile, after that it is an imaginative act, a wonderful creative act. Simply welcome somebody to your heart and you are innovative. Simply look with caring eyes at someone ... simply a loving appearance can change the entire globe of a person.

Be innovative. Don't be bothered with just what you are doing-- one has to do many points-- yet do everything artistically, with commitment. Your job becomes praise. After that whatsoever you do is a prayer. And also whatsoever you do is an offering at the altar.

Drop this idea that you are uncreative. I know exactly how this idea is created: you may not have actually been a gold medallist in the college, you could not have actually been top in your class, your paint may not have actually won appreciation, when you use your flute, neighbors report to the authorities. Maybe - yet just because of these things, don't get the incorrect belief that you are uncreative. That could be since you are mimicing others.

People have an extremely limited concept of exactly what being creative is-- they think it is only around playing the guitar or the flute or writing verse-- so individuals go on creating rubbish in the name of poetry. You need to discover exactly what you can do as well as just what you can refrain from doing. Everybody could refrain from doing everything! You have to search as well as discover your fate. You have to grope at night, I know. It is not very well-defined exactly what your fate is-- however that's just how life is. And also it excels that a person needs to search for it, since in the really search, something grows.

A Sudden Clash of Thunder/Courtesy Osho International Foundation/www. osho.com