#journey of a lifetime

[roxsannel]

The Melody of Evil (Hani's Daughter Mysteries Book) by N. L. Holmes.

Neferet is back with her fellow sunet and faithful woman of her heart Bener-ib and Mut-tuy, the apprentice whom they have adopted, who are having a discussion with her husband Lord Ptah-mes who is organising a party for his sister Mut-em-wia, as always, Neferet wants to help and so offers to find some musicians and she also offers to find the flowers since she knows someone who can do it.

However, as usual, Neferet finds herself in an investigation because the musicians who have been recommended to her have experienced a death in the family, unfortunately, it isn't from natural causes and so Neferet offers to look into it for them. As she does, she has to call in some help when it becomes clear that the family are not being entirely truthful with the three women and add into the equation that one of the prime suspects is her son in law and one of the family members who she likes.

The trials do not end there though, as the more they investigate, the deeper into the dark underbelly of Waset they delve into through the leads they follow, but will they be able to discern truth from lies before their time runs out? This is a cosy historical mystery where the decisions are hard and danger lies around every corner in this fast paced investigation.

[atwholidaysafri]

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[margusinstitute]

Dream Life Diaries: Living the Dream One Day at a Time

In a world filled with hustle and bustle, where time often feels like a scarce resource, it's easy to forget the importance of dreaming and living life to the fullest. We often get caught up in the routine, chasing our goals and aspirations, but sometimes, we need to pause and reflect on whether we are truly living the dream we envisioned for ourselves. Welcome to the "Dream Life Diaries," where we explore the art of living the dream, one day at a time.

1. The Power of Dreams:

Dreams are the seeds from which our realities grow. They are the visions that fuel our ambitions and inspire us to push our limits. Whether it's achieving a successful career, traveling the world, starting a family, or simply finding happiness in everyday moments, dreams give our lives direction and purpose. Continue......

[justaz]

Going feral as I think about my greek soulmates percabeth who were Perseus and Andromeda in a past life and Odysseus and Penelope in another. Falling in love in every lifetime. Finding each other every time. Their love is true and unconditional. Listening to “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again” from Epic and thinking about post Tartarus Annabeth having to cope and deal with the more cruel and dark version of Percy she saw in the pit and coming out the other side still loving him. He hesitates before reaching for her and his touch is so gentle and barely there, his hands tremble slightly as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt her and Annabeth is sure that no matter what he does, he’ll always be hers. He’ll always be her love. He’ll always be her best friend and soulmate. She’ll always love him.

[zoecolection]

Estos son dibujos que hice con bases que NO SON MÍAS. De vez en cuando me gusta usar bases. Me ayuda a no frustrarme en esto de aprender a dibujar. Y realmente amé mucho el resultado.

[mooechi]

my rop pookz in one piece i die no regrets now 🤞

[serpentface]

Do you have any information on the root scholars that you can share? They’ve always been a cool cult/organization to me

Ok it’s a facet of the Eterhimhamdli religion, which is The most widespread single belief system east of the inner seaway (which isn't saying much in terms of scale but it's still pretty significant) and also one I've barely introduced so I'll go over it a bit here.

Eterhimhamdli has spread past its initial sphere of old (~500 years BP) southern Lowlands Yuroma kingdoms, has many folk practices, and has schismed a few times, so there's a good deal of cultural variation. But its basic tenants/tendencies are:

-Creator deities are wholly rejected, the universe is an interplay between non-personified dualistic forces of Body(evil)/Mind(good). In one schism, the interplay of these two forces is the Dream, in others dreaming is an aspect of Mind.

-Deities in general are not wholly at odds with Eterhimhamdli, but their importance is de-emphasized and worship is usually discouraged in favor of making them objects of contemplation and/or tutelary figures.

-The Mind of the universe exists as a collective soul from which human souls emanate

-every person has two souls: an egoistic soul that animates the body and an ethereal soul that animates the mind. The latter is conceptualized as a single drop from a greater sea of the collective soul.

-belief that true wisdom is derived through access to this collective soul.

-belief that the trappings of the the ego-soul and the body's demands inhibits access to said collective soul.

-belief in the concept of enlightened beings who gain full experiential knowledge of the collective soul while remaining in a body, thus becoming capable of directly communicating aspects of their wisdom to the masses.

the biggest schism in this religion is over whether enlightenment just means experiencing full knowledge of the collective before you die, or whether it means transcending the limits of the body entirely and functionally becoming an immortal, godlike being.

deities of older/other religions absorbed by Eterhimhamdli are often reframed as enlightened mortals.

-most sects believe that only sophont life (or sometimes Only humans) have a etherial-soul along with the ego-soul, while animals exclusively have the ego-soul. Plants and inanimate objects Usually aren't ascribed souls outsides of heavily syncretic folk practices.

-belief in a fundamental good-evil cosmic dualism, though in a fairly complex way (evil is a necessity for life that is to be tempered and grappled with, rather than outright vanquished from the world entirely). The notion of 'evil' here is most associated with bodily desires (this includes all bodily needs like hunger and thirst, necessary to support life but viewed dangerous in excess, and being the root of conflict and pain).

the evil nature of bodily desire is not About sex, but does translate to non-procreative sex being frowned upon to varying extents.

-belief that life is a state of internal warfare between the evil ego-soul and the good ethereal-soul, with the former being more powerful and influential. To lead a good life is to bring the ego-soul into equilibrium with the ethereal soul. To live a wise and venerable life is to fully tip the balance in the latter's favor (this is not an expectation for lay followers, as it is considered profoundly difficult and requires separation from worldly life).

-lay followers practice forms of temperance to bring these forces into equilibrium, priests practice forms of asceticism to subdue the ego-soul and gain experiential wisdom in the process.

-The way you balance your life has consequences for the afterlife. An evil life causes an eternal death (this is usually posited as an underworld), a life in equilibrium causes one to be reborn into a new human body (a neutral fate), and a good life results in full return to the collective soul (this is a state of complete peace and contentedness and access to infinite wisdom).

-A selection of hallucinogenic plants are central to the monastic/priestly aspects of the religion, being seen as the key method through which the body can be transcended and the ego-soul can be quieted in order to tap into the collective. Lay followers do not participate in this facet on a regular basis.

-Priests also participate in self-flagellation, as the struggle with physical pain is a key microcosm of the broader internal war with the ego-soul, and can be a source of wisdom and contemplation. They are extensively tattooed for partly related purposes. Laymen are not expected to flagellate as a practice but rather to apply teachings to/learn from struggles with everyday pain.

-Very complicated relations with violence as a concept. Some strains of Eterhimhamdli philosophy see violence as an exclusive result of evil to be avoided whenever possible (usually more completely by priesthoods than the wider societies they live in), others see it as a neutral tool in of itself that Can be a force for good when used wisely. (Large scale 'wise usages of violence for the sake of good', shockingly, tend to favor the in-group's position in preexisting ethnic/religious/territorial conflicts).

-Most sects are proselytizing and see conversion as a necessity to create a better world, and have broadly unfavorable views of other religious practices.

This does not extend to seeing all societies that practice Eterhimhamdli or even The Same Schism Of Eterhimhamdli in a positive light (the birthplace of this religion is currently about 60 semi independent city-states organized into leagues that are frequently at war with each other)

-Highly favors education, literacy, rhetoric, debate, and the acquisition of material knowledge along with deeper spiritual wisdom. Knowledge and wisdom are venerable traits and societies should be led by the learned, or at least by people under their guidance.

---

The Scholarly Order of the Root is one order of Lowlands Eterhimhamdli monastics, functioning as a closed cult/mystery religion. They’re based out of Suurota (one of the biggest Yuroma city-states and dominant member of its league). They're at the top of the league's hierarchy of monastics, very wealthy, and have some involvement in governance (being an advisory body to the magistrate).

The Scholars primarily interact with the general public by hosting many of the league's institutions of scholarship and philosophy, and some of the biggest libraries in this part of the world. Their institutions are used by laymen Suurota citizens and members of government for study, and they host monks and priests (uninitiated to the inner cult) in their halls.

Actual membership to the Scholars cult is limited, they neither expect nor want associates to participate in their rituals. Rather, they position themselves as teachers- revealing small aspects of their secret knowledge to laymen and the lesser monastics as a form of guidance, while keeping dangerous knowledge for only the trusted inner circle.

Their baseline belief system aligns with the general schema of Lowlands Eterhimhamdli (one of three major schisms of this belief system), but their closed cult practices revolve around fairly unique interpretations, understood to be the ultimate underlying truths of this worldview.

The Scholars focus on an extention the Mind-Body model of the universe where their synthesis is the Dream (this itself is not unique to this cult, but the depths of their focus is). Under this model, the world is the dream of the collective consciousness, and achieving enlightenment or even temporary lucidity can allow the dream to be shaped to one's will.

One of their most secretive practices is god-building, in which they utilize altered mental states to shape the fabric of the dream into entities they can use as personal teachers of secret knowledge (also as a type of magic in general, they use it to 'build' guardians and curses and the like).

The process involves using mild doses of Ur-Root brew (mostly derived from roots of the clonal Ur-Wood colony, whose bark has notable concentrations of dimethyltryptamine and also hosts milder fungal hallucinogens) while maintaining an object and concept as a focal point of concentration. The altered state provided by the Root allows the user some access to the wisdom of the collective soul, and they will experience secret knowledge and revelations about this object, how it can best be used (this will be supplemented by material knowledge about the subject). This process is repeated until the user experiences a sense of Presence in the object, which must be interacted with, given a name and a face. Through more repetition, the object is believed to be shaped into a sort of thoughtform god which has come into material existence via manipulation of the dream.

This is considered to take immense time and effort to come to completion, god-building projects can last for years and be the combined effort of multiple Scholars. In the end, you have shaped an entity to your will that can operate independently of you.

The Ur-Wood itself is the center of Scholar cult practice, as it is both the purveyor of their most important hallucinogen and believed to have been the first god ever shaped by this form of lucid dreaming (it's a pilgrimage site for Eterhimhamdli where thousands of followers have undergone Ur-Root trips over the past four centuries, using the woods as an object of contemplation). To them the Ur-Tree is the ultimate teacher of their cult, an extremely powerful built-god that has been involved in almost every journey to enlightenment and contains all these journeys within its substance.

They believe that communing with the tree via Ur-Root can grant access to all enlightened mortals- full trips (with a DMT breakthrough type experience) will often involve sensations of encountering entities, which they interpret to be these historical figures. Within their religious framework, they're kind of speedrunning enlightenment. Under most conventional frameworks, the teachings of wise and/or enlightened people are conveyed in writing or speech as things to Contemplate on one's own journey- you might be able to understand them Conceptually but true understanding is Experiential, a process that can take a lifetime. In their framework, they're both receiving these teachings directly AND embodying states in which they can experientially comprehend them.

That summarizes most of their secret practices, and the rest of their practice is pretty standard for devout Lowlands Eterhimhamdlist priests. They live a partly ascetic lifestyle, they bear extensive tattoos as a contemplation of pain and marker of their journeys, they flagellate, they use tutelary hallucinogens, they refine their non-experiential body of knowledge through debate and rhetoric, they work to accumulate both worldly and spiritual knowledge, they work as scribes, etc.

[more-sonorous]

sneak peek at my next big piece!! (javey)

i've decided on my next big undertaking, once i'll paint you shades of blue and red is done!

this idea, once again, came from the lovely @jackmkelly . we've been yapping about it nonstop and we're creating a pretty lovely storyline that's full of themes of love, loss, grief, acceptance-- there are cute kids, cute daveys, and lots and lots of family.

of course, because it's me, there's gonna be romance-- but there's also going to be a lot of discussion of healing and dealing with grief. i hope you guys are excited because I AM!!!!

.....

The carriage seemed to rock beneath them as the dirt road stretched onward beneath the wheels, jostling softly to the rhythm of the trotting horses up ahead. David swayed back and forth, bumping every time the wheels rumbled over a rock or divot in the path. He’d never ridden in a carriage like this before– the seats were cushioned and covered with silky smooth fabric, and the walls were painted with lovely flowering details of gold and pale pink. Curtains hung over the windows and lamps flickered above the heads of the two lone passengers– David Jacobs and one Medda Larkin, facing each other.

How he’d ended up riding in the carriage of one of the most successful women in New York City was honestly beyond his own understanding, but there she was, as real as the cool glass of the elaborately paneled windows to his left and right. Miss Medda was a beautiful woman with dark skin and elegantly styled black hair, curled into careful loops and pinned against her head in the fashionable style of the day. She was wearing a lovely S-shaped gown made of rich, coral-colored fabric that might’ve been worth more than David’s family’s entire apartment. Even her shoes seemed expensive. David could see the tips of her elaborately crafted flats from beneath her petticoats, and he wondered how someone could ever come upon such wealth.

“David, darling, I can’t thank you enough for taking this job.” She began, offering him the warmest of smiles and extending a careful hand to him. 

He took it with slight hesitance, nervous heart running like a racehorse within his chest. David’s mind was still lingering on anxious minutiae– was he underdressed? What if he didn’t impress her? What if his father’s shabby old coat and faded waistcoat and trousers were unpleasant to the eye? Was his tie crooked, or his shoes too obviously spit-shined? Perhaps his curls were a mess or he’d accidentally let the star of David hidden beneath his clothing show through. He was an anxious wreck as she squeezed his hand softly and leaned in.

“Now, I know this is going to be somewhat of a challenge, but I know your sister and I adore your family, and I know you’re a resilient bunch.” He could see some sort of trepidation trying to creep through her anxious expression, but Medda Larkin was an excellent actress, and any trace of nervousness was gone before he could catalogue it. “You’re overqualified, after all. A degree in education, years of piano lessons, excellent track record in school– I don’t think the children could ask for a better tutor, truly.”

“Thank you, Miss Medda.” He answered truthfully, though he was sure his anxiety was obvious.

David was currently riding out to the beautiful New York countryside to serve as a live-in tutor to the three Kelly children. It wasn’t the sort of job he’d dreamed of– when he attended Columbia university, he hoped to work his way up the ladder and eventually earn enough degrees to become a professor of literature. Then he’d pull his family from poverty and drop them into a comfortable middle class life– but he soon realized that his dreams were a bit too unrealistic. He’d need a bit more money because there weren’t enough scholarships in the world to pull him through a second degree. 

Sometime during his desperate job search, his elder sister Sarah must’ve mentioned his plight to her boss– she worked as a costume designer for Miss Medda, always sewing clothes and sketching elaborate dresses for the shows playing at the theatre– and when Medda found out that David was young, unmarried and university educated? She reached out immediately.

David was going to move in with the Kelly’s and act as not only a tutor but a nanny as well. The job paid well and he received free room and board, meals included, so he shouldered the rather embarrassing burden of childcare and took the job as a male nanny. Working here for two years would earn him enough money to finish school with his scholarships. Then he’d be set for life. 

Didn’t make it any less strange or nerve-wracking. If he did a bad job, that would make Sarah look bad, too. 

“Now,” Medda pursed her lips and carefully took David’s other hand. “I’ve got to be honest with you, honey. My son’s wife died two years ago. It… it hasn’t been easy for this little family, and they’ve been through about… well– it’s been twenty or so nannies since she passed.”

He felt his own eyes widening as his heart dropped to his stomach. So much for the two year plan. “Twenty? Are– are the children rather challenging?”

“The children? Oh, no.” She chuckled warmly, shaking her head. “Those babies are angels, David, I assure you. Three of the sweetest little souls you’ll ever meet. It’s– to put it delicately, it’s Jack. My son. He’s… selective? But before you panic, I’ve got a good feeling about you! You’re young! You’ve got lots of energy, lots of intelligence, siblings of your own– and you’re the first nanny that hasn’t been hired through an agency. My own personal choice.” 

David felt it wasn’t appropriate to mention that such a statement wasn’t refreshing at all. In fact, it only made the load upon his shoulders feel even heavier. Now he was going to make Medda herself look bad if he made a mistake. “I… I’ll try not to let you down.”

“I have a feeling you won’t.” She smiled, with an incredibly optimistic tone, and carefully squeezed David’s hands in her own before dropping them. “Here’s the trick– you win those kids over, you win their daddy over, too. I’ll give you some insider information. Francis is the youngest, and she’s two. Precious little thing, but she’s a real clinger. Luna’s five. She’s incredibly bright, adores singing and dancing, dressing up– it’ll be easy for you to connect with her, too. Micheal’s the oldest, and he’s eleven and a half. He’s a such a lovely kid, but he’s real prickly when you get to know him. You’ve got a little brother that age, though, don’t you? Leshem?”

“He’s just turned thirteen.” David confirmed, growing more nervous by the second. 

“You’ll be good with Micheal, then. He loves riding horseback, despises arithmetic… but he’s very interested in history, so you might use that to your advantage.” She shot David a playful wink and drew back the curtains on her side of the carriage, thoughtfully looking out the window. 

At some point, the grayscale cityscape had blossomed into a forest, bathed in the landscape of early spring. Blades of green grass pushed their way through the underbrush and green, budding leaves were beginning to appear. Even with branches mostly bare from winter, the road they were traveling was lovely. David could only imagine how it looked in full bloom, or drenched in the warm colors of autumn. Maybe even coated in a thick blanket of snow. It would be nice to live out of the city for once, too. Once in a life he could scarcely remember, David had lived in a little Polish village with his family. They’d left when he was only four, though, so all he could remember was their tiny Baxter Street department, deep in the slums of New York City. Such a getaway was usually a luxury only the rich could afford, and though he’d be working, he knew he’d still enjoy himself.

He peered out the window as well, trying to conceal his own nerves. David was a horrible blabbermouth when he got like this, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to spark up an awkward conversation. “So… is the house a family property?”

“Not my family.” Medda laughed a warm, full type of laugh that seemed to fill the air around them with mirth. “No, certainly not mine. It’s been passed down through Jack’s wife’s family for generations. Used to be a vacation home, but Katherine’s father… graciously gave it to them as a sort of wedding present.”

A house as a wedding present. Wealthy people fascinated David. “That’s very kind of him.”

She huffed the sort of huff that a person did when they found something funny in a sarcastic manner, usually because of some hidden context. David cringed and decided not to push the matter any further, pulling away from the window and shrinking back into his seat. Medda carefully examined her flawless nails as David’s rigid posture jostled about in the bumpy carriage. 

Oh, he was very nervous with the added context. A father who was picky with his nannies and three different children to impress– plus the levels of learning were incredibly different. He’d need to teach the two year old basic speech and developmental skills, the four year old basic things like the alphabet and numbers, and the eleven year old would be well into his schooling and need at least four core subjects. It would be a balancing act between naptimes and meals and other activities to bring the children joy– maybe he’d teach them piano or take them on walks. The sort of things he would’ve liked as a child, or maybe the sort of things Les would’ve liked.

David tapped his fingers over his knee as he resisted the urge to bite his nails, staring fixedly out the window. Every once in a while, a massive country manor rolled past. He couldn’t believe that he was going from his family’s tiny apartment to one of these almost-palaces. It was like something out of a dream.

When the carriage took a sudden right turn, Medda cleared her throat. “David, I think you’re really what the family needs. My son, too. He’s got to be pulled out of his head. No one should live like he’s been living since Katherine passed.”

“I… I’ll do my best, Miss Larkin.” His knee bounced almost uncontrollably, and his stomach was caught in nervous knots. 

“I know you will. If anyone can do this, it’s one of you Jacobs siblings. Born to the breed.” She winked again, playful and charismatic, and even earned a small smile from the anxious man. He wished he could work for Miss Medda again under more pleasant circumstances– like the few times he’d assisted her stage managers for productions at her theatre during his University days.

Now he was facing the most daunting task of his life, and he could scarcely breathe from being so nervous. 

They rolled into a massive gravel drive, the carriage rattling around them as the loveliest gardens David had ever seen appeared. Fountains and hedges laid out in pretty symmetry stared back at him, begging him to stick around and see them in bloom. He could just imagine the front lawn bursting with flowers, green and lovely and smelling sweetly of springtime. Strolls down this lane would be positively unmatched, and his fingers itched for a good book. 

The house itself was even grander than the gardens, almost imposing in its ancient beauty. David guessed, based on the perfect symmetry and minimal detailing, that this manor had been built sometime in the beginning of the last century. He knew tall, reaching Neoclassical pillars when he saw them, and this lovely house with its creeping ivy was an enlightenment thinker’s dream. It stood starkly against the pale blue sky, wisps of pulled-cotton clouds curling outwards behind it. David had never seen such grandeur up close. 

Soon (possibly too soon) their carriage rumbled to a halt and Medda sent him an encouraging smile. David did his absolute best to conceal his nerves and returned the gesture, climbing out of the safety of the carriage once an attendant opened the door.

Before him, the entire household staff stood in lines leading to the door. Men on one side, women on the other. Now David really and truly wanted to throw up, but he focused on the warmth of Miss Medda’s hand as he helped her out of the carriage. He really was far too shabby for this, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed her towards the front door. Tall and made of wood, they seemed to walk in slow motion towards it, and David had never been so nervous in his entire life. Before Medda could even reach the door, it was thrown open to reveal a little burst of tiny human energy– a small girl with a round face and flushed cheeks running through to fling her arms around Medda.

“Gammy!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut happily as Medda lifted her into an embrace.

“Oh, if it isn’t my Luna-bug!” Medda cooed with all the adoration of an enamored grandparent, “You’re so much taller than the last time I saw you!”

Luna laughed loud, like Les used to laugh when he was that tiny, and David got a good look at her face as she cupped Medda’s cheeks in those tiny little hands. She was positively, heart-wrenchingly adorable, with the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen, and short brown hair cut just beneath her chin. Well-kept bangs swept across her forehead and a green ribbon tied half of her hair out of her face, skin tan and cheeks chubby with well-fed youth. She was a tiny thing but she was positively doll-like. “I miss you!”

“I missed you too, baby girl.” Medda pressed a kiss to Luna’s cheek and earned another precious giggle, just as someone else rushed out the front door.

A boy, definitely the eleven-year-old Micheal, followed by two others. Micheal winced and carefully extracted Luna from the older woman’s arms. With all the practiced ease of an adult parent, this eleven-year-old boy settled his little sister on his hip. David was instantly reminded of himself and Les. “I’m sorry, Gram. She wouldn’t sit still.” 

“‘S no problem at all. She’s just excited to meet Mr. David, here.” Medda carefully beckoned him forward, a gentle hand resting on his back. 

He awkwardly stumbled forward and got a good look at the tiny family in front of him, four sets of eyes staring him down, and– 

Oh, he thought, breath stuttering in his chest, they’re just perfect. 

The whole family. From little Luna and her big, brown eyes to the man that was obviously her father, and happened to be the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous man David Jacobs had ever laid eyes upon. God, was he gorgeous. Black hair, dark as silk, seemed to fall in two perfect, wavy curtains over his forehead. His hair swept back and formed little curls at the back of his head, framing his face perfectly. Sharp, furious brown eyes stared David down, set just beneath perfectly shaped brows and thick, black lashes. His jaw was wide and sharp and his bone structure was breathtakingly gorgeous, from his wide nose to his cheekbones to the slope of his brow. A dusting of stubble covered his chin, like a shadow over the bottom of his face. He looked angry, yes, but he looked like a furiously beautiful God plucked straight from Grecian mythology, with his honey-brown eyes and perfectly full lips. His skin was deeply tanned, the color of coffee with just a splash or two of cream. Pretty.

Of course, a man this beautiful was bound to have precious children. Little Luna was held by Micheal, who very well could’ve just been an eleven-year-old version of his father. He had the same black hair, styled a bit differently with the part above his right eye instead of the middle, and the same deeply tanned skin. David saw the same nose and lips and eyebrows, down to the shape of his eyes and ears. Though his eyes were a darker coffee-colored brown, little Micheal was his father’s young twin.

And then Francis, only-two but smiling at David like she knew him already. She had the same round face as her sister with impossibly chubby cheeks and incredibly curly orange hair pulled up in pigtails, one of the most strikingly ginger children David had ever seen. Her eyelashes were long and blonde and her cheeks and tiny nose were pink, and she clung to the fabric of her father’s shirt with grabby hands. She had big, brown eyes too, just like the rest of her family. He knew he was going to have trouble denying these kids anything.

They were a lovely family. All dressed well, all well fed. It would’ve been a perfect picture had Micheal and Jack not been sending him twin glares. 

“It’s lovely to meet you all–” He began, but was cut off immediately by Luna leaping out of her brother’s arms and racing towards him. She latched around his leg and smiled up at him, her cheeks dimpling. Ohmygod she has dimples? He was really in for it now, he was never going to be able to do any discipline. “Well, hello there, Luna–”

“You’re gonna be our new nanny!” She stated matter-of-factly, and then held her hands up in the universal child’s wordless question of ‘pick me up’? David couldn’t help but oblige and carefully lifted her, settling her against his hip. It was remarkable how easy the motions were returning to him, giving him flashbacks of his own twelve-year-old self holding Les at this age. 

“Yes, I am. I hope that’s alright with you?” He asked, very seriously, and raised his eyebrows. 

She giggled and raised her hands to cover her mouth, eyes getting big. “Your eyes are my favorite color!”

He glanced at the green ribbon in her hair and smiled. “I take it that’s a yes?” 

Luna was very suddenly removed by his arms from her father, who was a good three or four inches shorter than David. He looked just about as furious as David had ever seen anyone look as he settled Luna on his other hip. “No climbing the tutor, Lune, you barely know this man.” He ignored her pout and started speaking as he beckoned his son over. “I’m Jack Kelly.”

“David Jacobs.”

He held out his hand for a shake and then realized Jack was holding two children. Awkwardly, he tucked it back into his pockets and tried to ignore the huff of a laugh Jack directed his way. “I know. These are my kids. You’ve met Luna. This is Francis, and this is my son, Micheal. I can assure you that they ain’t gonna need a tutor, but since my Ma insisted–”

“Jack, play nice.” Medda raised her eyebrows at him and crossed her arms. “Surely I don’t need to list off David’s credentials again…”

He muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘credentials don’t mean shit’ before abruptly turning his back and heading inside. David tried not to be surprised by the thickness of his Upper Manhattan accent, because it certainly didn’t match the clothes he was wearing. He had on nice trousers and suspenders and a pale-blue button up, waistcoat hanging unbuttoned beneath the girls he carried. His collar was unbuttoned and his clothes were obviously expensive, but he wore them far too casually for David to understand.

Mr. Kelly started speaking as if he just expected David to listen and follow, and maybe he did expect that, so David quickly jogged to catch up. Medda rolled her eyes and trailed along more slowly, but David listened raptly to every word this man said. “This is my house. I’m pretty sure you’ll have everything you need to teach my kids, but if you don’t, don’t ask me about it. Find Charles and ask him. You can teach your lessons in the library. Your bedroom is in the West Hall– that's where the kids sleep, too— and there’s a washroom at the end of the hall for you to use. Breakfast is at nine, dinner at one and supper at six. That’s pretty much it.”

Jack paused in the middle of the entryway, a room so grand that David’s head was practically spinning. A gorgeous rug on the floor, a paneled ceiling painted with a gorgeous mural, a chandelier and a beautiful staircase made of polished wood– the shorter man gave him a long, disdainful once-over and raised his eyebrows judgmentally, eyes narrowed as he looked back up. He covered Luna’s ears. “You know this ain’t some job you can half-ass in favor of going out and fucking around with your college friends, correct?”

David glanced at the eleven-year-old, who didn’t even flinch at his father’s improper language. Luna was scrabbling to get his hands off, thankfully unaware. Didn’t Jack know that his two-year-old could easily pick up such foul language? She was probably already talking. Thankfully Francis just continued to stare at David like she was trying to figure him out. He bit his tongue and resisted the urge to correct that he didn’t actually have any friends from University and nodded instead. “Yessir.”

“And it ain’t just teaching. You have to be able to care for the kids as well.”

“Yes, Miss Larkin told me as much.” He added on, drawing into the depths of his patience. He’d only just entered the house and this unfairly beautiful man had already decided on his incompetence, without even giving him a chance.

Jack huffed darkly, shifting the girls in his arms. Francis dropped her head onto his shoulder and Luna reached for David, but Jack angled himself away. “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Jesus. You’re just a kid.” Jack laughed, shaking his head in disapproval. He drew in a deep breath and pressed his lips together, giving David another long look before those honey-brown eyes narrowed and he tilted his chin almost defiantly. “Well, you start tomorrow. I ain’t holding my breath, though. Ma– you stayin’ for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll also give Mr. David here a proper tour of the house.” Medda leveled Jack with an almost challenging glare as she linked their arms. “And, you know, actually introduce him to your majordomo and head housemaid.”

He fixed her with a sarcastic grin that was unfairly pretty. David realized where Luna got her dimples, too. Jack’s teeth were imperfect, only further pushing David to wonder how he’d come across ownership of this obvious wealth. “Better you than me.”

With that, he started up the stairs. Micheal, who’d remained entirely silent the whole time, gave David a long once-over (reminding David very much of his father) and then continued up the stairs as well. Mr. Kelly’s strength wasn’t exactly lost on David– he was carrying two toddlers up a staircase and he didn’t even seem to be struggling. Strong and attractive as he was, he was awfully prickly.

He’d just lost his wife. Two years? The wound was still fresh. David decided then and there to give this man some grace. He’d prove him wrong and he’d do it gently and carefully, too. 

“Bye, Mr. David!” Luna called, frantically waving at him from over her father’s shoulder. Francis turned around and mimicked her sister with a bright little smile. “Bye-bye!” 

He waved half-heartedly. At least the girls seemed to like him a little bit. 

A glance back at Medda showed him that she was looking at him in an ‘I-told-you-so’ type of manner, and that did nothing to quell his growing nerves.. It seemed that after a bit of math, Jack had a habit of firing a nanny almost every month. Maybe one or two had lasted a bit longer and brought the average up, but the fact remained– David needed to act fast if he wanted to stick around, and he did. The pay was excellent, the children were cute, and something about the mysterious and gorgeous Mr. Kelly had David intrigued. 

With sudden determination, he turned to Miss Medda and drew his hands from his pockets. “I’d like to meet the staff.”

She grinned. “Attaboy.”

[hiimgin]

Spontaneous repaints of old artwork

Hey, my hearties! How are you? I hope you're doing well.

I recently came across my art straight out of 2019 and its redraw from 2021. So I had a thought: what if I redrew it again? For the sake of seeing my growth over the years.

As you can understand, I did that. So, let's start in order!

1. 2019. This was the second year I started drawing relatively seriously. I was trying to copy Sonic's style a bit back then, I don't know why. It doesn't look like it, I know. Just a fun fact.

2. 2021. This is where I already got my first ipad. It's gotten better, though the textures, lights and shadows need work. A lot of work. But overall it's not too bad.

3. 2024. And here it is! This year's redraw!

I've definitely grown in skill, I'm not going to lie. Yes, there is room for growth, but I have come a long way and I am proud of myself

That's all for now. Sorry for such a spontaneous post, I just had to share this.

Peace, everyone!

Bye.

@whyoneartheven

[devilish-parrot]

what even IS Help! 1965? (the movie)

[roxsannel]

Volcano of Pain: A Dark Stalker Romance Meets Psychological Thriller (Burn It All Down Duet Book 1) Kindle Edition by Heidi Stark.

Margaux is a woman in her forties who wants a fresh start, she has just left a long term relationship and she now wants to embrace the future which she has always wanted and the freedom that she craves, living by the beach and becoming a full time author and so she begins to look into it as an actual future instead of a beautiful dreams, however, things don't go as smoothly as she was hoping when her job decides that she cannot continue there if she moves to Sunset Cay and they tell her this after she has already confirmed her plans.

This doesn't deter her and so she decides to carry on with the plan and get something when she has moved to tide her over and so while she is doing this, she decides to try and make some connections before she moves, and this is where a hot surfer comes into play. So, when the day comes and she moves herself and her cat across to Sunset Cay, he comes to meet her and from the word go, she falls and falls hard, he is everything that she wants in a person and more and things move very quickly to feeling like he is the one.

As time passes and Margaux is drawn into her surfer's light like a moth to the flame, things take a dark turn as his perfect facade slowly begins to crack and some worrisome events and niggling actions start to wear away at Margaux and she is not sure what to do. She is so in love and is so tangled in this passionate relationship that she cannot see the wood for the trees and so she just glosses over the everything and decides to tackle them in the future and soon enough, these become insecurities about herself, and this is where things begin to spiral out of control.

All through this whirlwind romance, there is someone watching from the sidelines, Dex, a friend of Margaux's brother who feels extremely protective of her, he has always been in the shadows and helping Margaux from afar, but when he realises that she is in trouble, even if she doesn't know it, he is keeping her safe and ensuring her survival, but as the lines between protection and obsession blur, he has to keep control and wait for the perfect moment to act.

Will Margaux be able to stop the downward spiral, or will she be sucked into a black hole and of this happens, will Dex be able to save her from it, or will she be absorbed by the darkness and lose her light? This is an extremely dark romance with a suspenseful storyline where nothing is as it seems and the lines between right and wrong, darkness and light and protection and obsession are blurred and danger lurks in the shadows, but you will soon become hooked into the flow of Margaux's life and have to read to the end to find out what happens.

[dateamonster]

Doug Jones (bless his cute lil butt) has done so much for monsterfuckers but I think we often forget that Ron Perlman was also in that Beauty and the Beast series and has always been there for us older mfers

for real!!!! honestly so crucial that the sexy monster ecosystem maintain a healthy balance of like eerie lithe beautiful monsters and rugged beefcake handsome monsters (not at all a gender segregated dichotomy, so jot that down)

also if anyone has a link for somewhere to watch that series...

[googleitlol]

my current roman empire is that one scene of Tang screaming at the lady offering him the baby river water

[brazilliantunicron01]

The song Listen Not reminds me to suntang sm

[zoecolection]

A veces, cuando Wukong luchaba, sentía que la batalla lo llamaba como una canción de gloria y triunfo. Pero esta vez, estaba seguro de que oía un canto... Esa melodía triste que Tao Siu Ling entonaba llenó su mente por completo, y fue plenamente consciente de que esta vez la energía no provenía de su centro, sino de algún lugar en la lejana costa del mar. Quizás era eso a lo que llamaban amor...

Fuera como fuera, era una sensación increíble, magnífica. Jamás había tenido tanto qi dentro que sintiera que se le salía por los poros. Jamás había estado tan seguro de que había un mundo completo al cual quisiera defender con toda su voluntad. El mundo que ella pisaba. La gente entre la que ella se movía. El espacio vital que necesitaba para que su piel acariciara el viento, para que su cabellera se bañara de sol. Y no iba a perder eso. No podía permitirse perder eso jamás.

Se enzarzó en una lucha tal contra el monstruo, que no habría manera de describir la habilidad ni de medir la velocidad en sus ataques. El alcance de su fuerza y fiereza era ilimitado, como si su renacer lo hubiera mejorado al mil por ciento.

El aire se sentía como si quemara. Las olas incrementaban su poder destructor. Eran los dioses de las tormentas y las criaturas del mar profundo que alentaban a uno u otro. Y, mientas los partidarios de Ao Kwang prestaban sus lanzas y cimitarras para lanzarlos en los aluviones y en las crestas de las olas, los celestiales y los demás dragones cedían sus rayos y truenos para que Wukong se sirviera de ellos en la lucha. Era como si un volcán y un tsunami estuviesen guerreando y no dos seres vivos. Eran dos dioses chinos midiéndose y poniendo su honor en juego; creando un ciclón devastador solo con su arrojo en la batalla. Ambos conscientes de que la victoria solo se obtendría cuando el otro arrostrara la muerte.

[destiel-wings]

i saw the umpteenth post on twitter about how fanfiction isn't literature and i am SO MAD, like, it's not hard to judge a story by its quality

but no, god forbid, it's only literature if you sell it for money.