#stranger things than are dreamed of in your philosophy

[grantimatter]

I think you want Erich Wasmann (who named "Wasmannian mimicry" in insects): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erich_Wasmann Or Pierre Latreille (a priest who got out of the Bastille during the Revolution because he knew a rare beetle when he saw one): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Andr%C3%A9_Latreille Wasmann was more of a theologian, but Latreille's beetle story seems pretty cinematic.

If you Catholic mfers were really so interested in God's design you would develop a theological appreciation of beetle biology.

[grantimatter]

(via EPISODE #213: THE BALLAD OF MOJO NIXON)

This was a memorial as fascinating as it was sweet.

[vampirequsa]

“Three Days as Strangers” (Modern AU)

Gojo and Geto meet again by chance in a world where sorcerers don’t exist. Just two men with ghosts in their eyes. They spend three days together—coffee shops, late-night walks, a bookstore—pretending they don’t know each other. But they do.

.・。.・゜✭・.���✫・゜・。.▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

So like...I kinda shed a tear over here

────୨ৎ────

It starts with a rainstorm.

The kind that slicks the pavement into silver, that paints the city in soft blurs and half-light. Gojo ducks into the bookstore only because his umbrella snapped in the wind. He could’ve kept walking—would’ve, normally—but something about the smell of wet paper and warmth draws him in.

It’s quiet inside. Golden light spills through rows of shelves, and jazz hums low from a dusty speaker. The floor creaks. A fan spins lazily overhead.

And behind the register, tucked into a threadbare cardigan, is him.

Geto Suguru.

His hair’s tied low. There’s a pen tucked behind his ear, and he’s thumbing through a worn copy of Kafka on the Shore. He doesn’t look up when Gojo enters.

And Gojo—world-class at pretending, elite at avoiding—does the most dangerous thing he’s ever done.

He stays.

── .✦

Day One.

He doesn't say anything at first.

He drifts between shelves, fingers brushing spines like they might catch fire. Geto doesn’t acknowledge him, but Gojo knows he’s aware. There’s a tension in the air that hums too close to memory.

He picks a book at random—something dumb, a self-help thing with a pastel cover—and brings it to the counter.

Geto rings it up without blinking. “Cash or card?”

Gojo’s voice is too light. “Card. But only because I don’t carry cash. Cash is for mysterious people.”

A pause.

Geto slides the book into a paper bag. “Then it suits you.”

Their hands brush.

Gojo freezes.

Geto doesn’t flinch—but he doesn’t smile, either.

“Have a nice night,” he says.

Gojo stands in the rain five minutes longer than necessary, staring at the receipt.

There’s no name on it. Just the store’s.

Uzumaki Books.

── .✦

Day Two.

He tells himself he’s just passing by.

A lie so obvious it almost makes him laugh.

He pushes open the door and finds Geto restocking the philosophy shelf. His sleeves are rolled to the elbows. He looks up this time.

“Back already?” he says, without heat.

“Your store’s cozy.” Gojo leans against a shelf. “Like you could fall asleep and dream in it.”

Geto arches a brow. “That a line?”

“Would it work if it was?”

“…No.”

A silence.

Then—unexpectedly—Geto softens. Just a little. “I made coffee. Want some?”

Gojo blinks. “Is it poison?”

“Maybe. You’ll have to drink it to find out.”

── .✦

They sit at the back table, chipped mugs steaming between them. Geto reads. Gojo watches the rain crawl down the window.

No one says anything.

But something settles between them.

Not forgiveness.

Not yet.

But familiarity.

Like an old coat rediscovered in a closet you swore you’d emptied.

── .✦

Day Three.

He doesn’t make excuses anymore.

He just walks in.

Geto’s behind the counter, rearranging bookmarks. He doesn’t look up when he says, “You’re early.”

Gojo grins. “You missed me.”

“No. I missed the noise. You fill the silence too well.”

“Poetic,” Gojo says. “Maybe I am a line.”

Geto looks up then.

And something flickers in his eyes—quiet, aching recognition.

They don’t talk about who they used to be. Or how they used to stand back to back in another life, laughing like gods. They don’t mention temples or curses or the night everything broke.

But when Geto reaches out to hand him a book, Gojo catches his wrist.

And holds it.

Their fingers curl, cautious. Like a secret being remembered instead of told.

Geto says nothing. But he doesn’t pull away.

Gojo’s voice is barely there. “Do you remember?”

Geto meets his gaze.

The air goes still.

“…Every time it rains.”

── .✦

That night, they stay long after closing.

The lights stay low. The rain never lets up. Jazz hums in the background like it’s always been playing.

Gojo reads aloud from something Geto picked. His voice is softer than it should be. Measured.

At some point, their shoulders touch.

And they don’t move away.

── .✦

The next day, Gojo doesn’t come.

Geto waits.

Until dusk.

Until closing.

He locks the door, turns the sign.

Then, when no one’s looking, he pulls out a napkin left tucked into the back counter.

There’s handwriting scrawled across it, chaotic and familiar.

> “You always liked bookstores.

I just liked you.

—Satoru.”

Geto closes his eyes.

And for the first time in years, lets himself smile.

────୨ৎ────

[the-most-humble-blog]

“WHEN YOU TURN OFF AT NIGHT: The Other You Isn’t Dreaming — They’re Remembering”

---

Good night?

No.

You don’t sleep.

You switch channels.

You slide into a version of yourself that doesn’t blink at a talking dog, doesn’t question the house with an infinite basement, doesn’t flinch when a dead loved one walks into the room like nothing happened.

And the most unnerving part?

> That version of you is completely fine with it.

---

Who Is That Version of You?

In dreams, you’ve:

Said things you’d never admit out loud.

Touched people you’d never approach.

Betrayed lovers, saved cities, killed strangers, flown.

Held conversations with people who don’t exist — but feel more real than anyone you've ever met.

And you didn’t scream.

You didn’t panic.

You adapted.

Why?

Because that wasn’t you in a weird dream.

That was you, in a place where that reality is normal.

That dog always talks.

That version of your mother is always dead and always laughing.

You always wear red.

You always betray him.

And you wake up confused.

But that version of you wakes up with no questions at all.

---

The Uncanny Isn’t Strange — It’s Contextually Familiar

Ever wonder why, in your dreams:

You’re naked in a grocery store but no one cares?

You speak fluent French despite never studying it?

You die and keep going?

Because in that version of reality, those things are not odd.

You are operating from a different rulebook.

The subconscious doesn’t invent.

It remembers.

It references.

It pulls data from deeper archives than your waking mind can access.

> Your brain isn’t malfunctioning.

It’s reporting.

You’re not dreaming.

You’re receiving transmission from a sleeper variant of you living in a frequency this dimension can’t fully hold.

---

The “You” Who’s Not Bound by This Life’s Shame

That version of you isn’t afraid of being called delusional.

They don’t carry your trauma.

They didn’t grow up hearing “you’re too much.”

They didn’t go to your school.

They didn’t lose your lover.

> They are what you would be if that moment in your life went differently.

If she stayed.

If he hit you.

If the car turned left.

If the bullets found you.

If you never got that diagnosis.

If you took the job.

If you said “no.”

---

This Isn’t Philosophy. It’s Physics with a Pen Name.

Call it:

String theory with emotional scars

Quantum memory osmosis

Neurological bleed-through across realities

Call it whatever lets you sleep.

But know this:

> Dreams are not simulations.

They are leaks.

The veil is thinnest when the body is off.

You are not hallucinating.

You are witnessing.

You are not creating.

You are remembering.

---

So Why Do You Wake Up Shaken?

Because the version of you that saw the dog talk

— or watched the moon collapse

— or slept with that version of her that never pushed you away

…remembers too.

And sometimes they bleed back.

Sometimes they whisper.

And sometimes?

They’re angry you left.

---

Write From There

Don’t write from the safe memory.

Write from the memory that doesn’t belong here.

Write like someone who watched themselves die in a dream — and realized it was someone else’s memory of you.

Write like you’ve been other people.

Because you have.

Write like someone who can feel the tremble in their hands after kissing someone whose name they don’t know — but who knew them by a name no one has ever called you here.

---

Final Transmission:

You don’t dream.

You travel.

And if your writing doesn’t occasionally make you feel insane,

you’re not channeling deep enough.

So tonight when you sleep:

Don’t ask “What will I dream?”

Ask “Which version of me will I become?”

Ask “Will they let me remember?”

And tomorrow?

Write down whatever slips through.

No matter how wrong it feels.

No matter how true it sounds.

Because that’s not a story.

> That’s dimensional residue.

That’s Blacksite Literature™.

Codename: SLEEPER VARIANT

Clearance Level: Unstable

💣 Reblog if your dreams felt like evidence.

🛐 Comment if you’ve woken up missing someone you’ve never met.

📜 Follow @the-most-humble-blog for more Blacksite Literature™ transmissions.

[artist-issues]

You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.

I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.

I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.

The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.

I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.

I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.

I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).

Thank you and God bless! 🥰

You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.

Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.

I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.

Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:

The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.

Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.

And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”

But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?

We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.

Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.

Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”

My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”

It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.

Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”

What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.

So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.

Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”

I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi how are you? I love your writings❤️ Can I get a romantic matchup with LOTR, HOBBIT, Harry Potter, Marvel? I am 25. She/Her. I can match with a man or woman. I have short dark brown curly hair and hazel eyes. I have white skin, my height is around 1.65 and I'm curvy.

I'm generally introverted and cold-blooded. I'm stubborn. I'm generally pretty patient, but when I run out of patience I can get very grumpy. I'm a bit of a pessimist. I don't talk much outside unless necessary and prefer to observe. I am a good listener. To outsiders, I seem strict, distant and sometimes a little scary, but to those around me, I am very talkative, friendly, affectionate and fun. I'm also a good secret keeper, tell me anything and I'll take it to my grave. I am a faithful and loyal person. I'm a perfectionist. I always like to have everything orderly and under control, but sometimes it can be very challenging. I'm independent, I try not to get help for anything and I don't like to fit into certain stereotypes. I am always respectful and even interested in opposing views. I have a hard time voicing my opinions on anything, which can sometimes make me seem rude or disrespectful, but I really don't mean any harm. I'm a nerdy girl and I'm okay with that.✨️

I live in my own world. I love drawing, watching TV series and movies, and listening to music. I also love writing. I love learning new things about any subject. I love art, literature, philosophy, history and mythology. My favorite colors are black and green. I can listen to any genre of songs I like depending on my mood. But some of my Favorites are Diary of Dreams, The Gazette, The Neighbourhood, Chase Atlantic, One Republic, Marina and The Diamonds, Paris Paloma, Lana Del Rey, Billie Eilish, Hozier, Melanie Martinez, Mitski, AC/DC and Iron Maiden. My favorite TV series is Hannibal. I love thrillers, true crime, detective and mystery, fantasy and sci-fi. I think these are the things that come to my mind right now... thank you! I hope you have a good day❤️

Hi! I am so sorry that I got to this so late! I feel terrible! <3

But, I hope you like your matchups!

{Trying a different layout}

Romantic Matchup; LOTR, The Hobbit, Harry Potter, and Marvel

~~~

Lord Of The Rings;

Aragorn -

You met Aragorn at the very beginning, and despite being a lady, you were personally invited by Lord Elrond himself to join the meeting to see who would take the ring to Mordor.

You didn't really talk much, or at all, but you observed, being a good listener; though, as one by one spoke up, debating, your attention went straight to the mysterious, tall, dark, and handsome stranger whose voice you really liked - he was handsome, as said, and he was bringing up some good points.

Hands clasped together in your lap, you watched as people began to argue, and you were just a smidge annoyed.

Well, who knew you were going to become part of the Fellowship Of The Ring?

It was difficult at the beginning of the journey. Gimli and Boromir were pretty adamant that the journey was no place for a lady - far too dangerous, they said!

But Aragorn, you had learned his name, stood up for you, bringing up the fact that Lord Elrond himself asked you to join, that they should all trust his judgment.

Well, you showed them, on more than one occasion, that you were a wise and strong person.

Now, throughout the journey, you had slowly, slowly gotten used to the people around you. The Hobbits were easy to befriend, honestly.

But, at some point, you had grown comfortable in their presence, enough that you had grown to become more talkative and friendly.

Though, it was different with Aragorn. You didn't know if it was just you, but you thought that maybe there was something different in the way he spoke to you than he did with the others. Maybe it was just you...

Maybe...

Well, it turns out that Aragorn was quite taken with you, having caught his eyes the moment you joined the meeting in Rivendell; dressed beautifully, presence respectful, and eyes shimmering with a certain intelligence and strength that captured his interest almost instantly.

And his interest had only grown the more he got to meet you, get to know, and understand you; not only were you intelligent, respectful, strong, and understanding, but you were also loyal and independent - something Aragorn admired greatly.

As the journey continues, minus the orcs and whatever troubles you all run into, you and Aragorn's bond begins to grow the more you spend together.

From late nights of keeping watch sharing your favorite stories and books to recalling your favorite topics in history; there are even nights when you talk the night away about everything your heart desires, until you fall asleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Aragorn didn't have the heart to wake you...

Despite you being an incredibly good fighter and defender, Aragorn always makes sure that you are alright after an attack from orcs or something. You do the same, your eyes at the end of a fight would search for each other, small faint smiles of relief on your faces.

In the end, Aragorn gives you the best room while you and the rest of the Fellowship stay in his kingdom after he is crowned king. Your room is one of the biggest, and close to his room, in case you need anything.

He makes sure that you have everything that you could possibly need. Someone to wait on you in case you need something, need help changing, a bath to be drawn, a snack, anything. And do not worry, you are not a burden. Aragorn would do anything for you.

Another thing; Aragorn gifts you lavish clothing, in green and black, that you are comfortable in. The sight of the new article always brings a smile to your face and a rush of blood to your cheeks. And, of course, he always compliments you when he sees you.

Whilst you stay, Aragorn often finds you in the library, reading, drawing, or just admiring the view outside - he often joins you, to talk, laugh, or just spend time in your amazing company.

Aragorn finally confesses his feelings and admiration for you after you.

"You have been my strength through every shadow and trial - my heart has long been yours, though I have been too much a fool to say it."

Well, let's just say, that you didn't end up leaving after that.

You and Aragorn work seamlessly together, both of you valuing independence and the quiet strength that comes with keeping order. Patience is a shared virtue, though he is perhaps more steadfast than yours.

Your friendly and affectionate nature balances his quiet reserve, while your stubborn loyalty earns his deepest respect.

Even in moments when your pessimism clouds your thoughts, he admires your unwavering commitment to those you care for, finding strength in the fire that drives you.

~~~

The Hobbit;

Thorin Oakenshield -

You had run into the Dwarves and one Hobbit when they were getting attacked by the spiders in Mirkwood.

You were heading to Mirkwood - Thorin thought that was suspicious - but instead of just letting them suffer through spiders, you helped them cut out of webs and stab spiders to death; you were truly skilled fighter, it was no wonder most of the Company wanted to keep you.

Though you were a bit hesitant and distant - you met up with them, fighting off orcs, jumping in an empty barrel, and holding onto Bilbo so he wouldn't drown.

As you were all racing down the raging river, you didn't know if you were having fun or not. More like worrying over the whole group and making sure after every small waterfall that you counted each Dwarf.

One, two, three, ah, okay, all accounted for, all alive...

Thorin, even though you helped him and his family/friends out of danger, he didn't really know what to think of you. His blue eyes would watch you, observing you, as you also observed your surrounding, whilst also listening to the Dwarves about their stories and adventures.

He didn't know what to think of you at the very moment, but he thanked you for your help, to himself.

But you had been able to bond with most of the other Dwarves, like Fili and Kili, which consisted of laughter, shared stories, and affectionate hugs.

And when Kili was in pain, though you worried and your mind thought only of the worst, you held his hand.

These actions made the King Under The Mountain reconsider you for a moment. Maybe there was something different about you.

That night, as you curled close to the fire that night before he and the rest of the Company - minus a few - left for Erebor, Thorin found a spare blanket and placed it upon your sleeping form.

And only after the defeat of Smaug, and after the war - and everyone surviving - did he finally realize that maybe the 'something different' about you was actually because you might've been his One; he just was too stubborn to truly see it.

This new realization hit him hard, and at first, the King was scared. He had wished that he had gotten to know you more, had spoken to you more.

Well, you were here now, partying with the rest - of men, dwarves, elves, and Hobbits alike. Maybe, this was his chance to push aside his stubbornness and brooding and speak to you.

He made his move, surprising you by asking you to join him for a drink, where he gave you a goblet of red wine. And for the next hour or so, you spoke among yourselves, on the sidelines of the raging party. *Disco music.*

There, you and Thorin spoke about the music, your favorite instruments, books your loved to read, and more. All the while, you didn't seem to notice the way Thorin's eyes softened as you rambled slightly.

At the end of the first night of many more nights of partying and celebrating the return of their home, Thorin finally spoke up.

"You have fought beside me with a courage that humbles even a king - I would wish it that you stay here in Erebor a while longer, so I may properly show my gratitude."

It is while you are staying longer in Erebor that he finally reveals to you that you are his One.

To keep a long story short, all while courting, you and Thorin would sit by the fire and read quietly together, take walks through Erebor's halls, write sweet letters to each other, and Thorin would braid a piece of your hair, clasping it with his homemade, one-of-a-kind bead.

You and Thorin share a bond forged in mutual respect and quiet understanding.

He admires your love for reading and thirst for knowledge, seeing it as a strength that complements his vision for Erebor.

Even your perfectionist tendencies, though sometimes a point of contention, earn his respect - he sees in you someone who strives for greatness, much like himself.

Your unwavering support has become a pillar he relies on.

~~~

Harry Potter;

Remus Lupin -

You and Remus first met at Hogwarts as students, though your friendship didn’t blossom immediately.

You were a quiet, observant presence, often keeping to yourself. He was aware of you from a distance, admiring your calm, controlled demeanor, which differed from his more lighthearted friends.

It was a nice different.

Although you were distant from new and strange people, your shared classes often brought you together.

You both preferred studying in quiet corners of the library, where Remus noticed how you worked meticulously, seeing how much you loved to learn not only from books but also from lessons.

Finally, after you had both gotten use to each other, you began studying together in the library.

You even started correcting his notes.

When Sirius and James found out about that, they teased him.

Over time, you became close enough for him to see the softer, affectionate side you reserved for those you trusted.

You’d often listen patiently as he confided in you, especially during stressful times.

Full moon times. It had taken him a year and a half to tell you he was a werewolf, and he was incredibly nervous that you would tell everyone or just not be his friend anymore.

He was scared that you would look at him in disgust.

He would miss your hugs as hellos in the mornings, he would miss the peaceful conversations regarding your interests.

He would miss the way your face would light up at the mention of your favorite muggle movies or show, or how you would ramble beautifully on and on about myths and philosophy. He wouldn't dare stop you.

He loved the sound of your voice.

He was a bit of a pessimist himself.

Surprisingly, and to his shock, he found great comfort in your reaction. When he finally gathered the courage to tell you his secret, his heart raced, waiting for the look of disgust he feared you’d give him.

But instead, you remained calm, simply listening, your eyes thoughtful yet soft. You placed a hand on his, a simple gesture that spoke volumes, steadying him as you always had in the quiet way that had drawn him to you from the start.

“You’re still Remus." You had told him. “The rest doesn’t change who you are.”

Years after graduation, you both found yourselves back at Hogwarts, now as professors.

Remus was pleasantly surprised to see you again, finding it easy to pick up where you two had left off.

Your no-nonsense attitude and perfectionism made you a strict professor, yet students respected you for your dedication and fairness. And also quite enjoyed that you would give them little treats and snacks after long quizzes or tests.

Remus often visited your office to chat after classes. You’d sometimes scold him for his relaxed teaching style, though he found it endearing.

Despite your -sometimes - grumpy demeanor, you cared deeply, which he always noticed in the way you’d subtly check on his health and workload.

Especially when the full moons were around the bend.

Remus would find chocolate on his desk in DADA.

And you'd find books on your favorite topics on yours.

After long days of teaching, you and Remus would often sit by the fire in his quarters or yours, sharing tea or hot chocolate. The two of you would talk about myths, Muggle literature, and your favorite Muggle music, losing track of time until the early hours of the morning.

It reminded you of how you and Remus would sit in the Common Room studying until the wee hours of the morning.

He loved the way you spoke passionately about the things that you were interested in, and he’d always encouraged you to keep talking, no matter how tired he was.

You’d both spend hours in the library or his office, quietly reading together. He’d occasionally glance up from his book to watch you, marveling at how beautiful you looked when lost in thought. When you found an interesting passage, you’d excitedly share it with him, and he’d always listen intently.

Adding onto the topic of full moons; on the nights leading up to the full moon, you’d make sure he had everything he needed. You’d sit with him if he was feeling anxious. After the full moon, you’d bring him breakfast and sit with him while he rested, healing, reading aloud from his favorite books, or telling him stories to help him relax.

On particularly difficult days, you’d end up falling asleep together on the couch in either of your quarters, surrounded by books and papers for grading. He’d wake up first, brushing a strand of hair from your face, marveling at how peaceful you looked.

Those quiet moments reminded him just how much he loved you and how lucky he felt to have you by his side.

You and Remus are great together because you balance each other out perfectly - his calm, steady nature complements your quiet strength, while your loyalty and understanding provide him with the comfort and support he needs.

Together, you share a deep, unspoken bond, rooted in mutual respect, affection, and a quiet love that grows stronger with each and every passing day.

~~~

Marvel;

Natasha Romanoff -

As Avengers, you and Natasha work seamlessly together. Ever since the beginning, when she wasn't on solo missions or with Clint, you were with her.

Your cold-blooded efficiency in battle complements her own calculated and lethal style.

You’re both perfectionists who thrive on order and control, often planning out every detail of a mission to ensure success. While you can be distant or strict with new recruits, Natasha sees through your tough exterior and knows that beneath it lies a fiercely loyal and caring partner.

You're not one to speak much during operations, preferring to observe and stay silent, but Natasha appreciates the way you always anticipate the next move.

You’re skilled in hand-to-hand combat, just as skilled with weapons.

You’re not just observant on the battlefield but a force to be reckoned with. You’ve honed your combat skills, and even Natasha, with all her experience, finds herself impressed.

She often asks to spar with you, in which it often ends in a tie or the both of you winning the same amount of times.

Away from the chaos of the battlefield, you might not be as expressive or outgoing as some of the other Avengers, in the beginning. It takes you a bit to open up, but when you do, you have become friends with all of them.

You are talkative, laughing along, having fun with them; along with being affectionate, joking punches to the arm, or hugs goodbye.

However, when not spending time with the team, a quiet night spent watching movies or reading is how you like to spend your nights. Unless you are dragged to one of Tony's parties.

Natasha being similar to you, needs time to really get to know you, see what makes you tic, before she can truly let herself be vulnerable around you. And you have proven to her that you were worthy enough, and trustful enough for her to break out of her own shell.

She finds herself finding you around the tower, joining you in the kitchen to grab a snack, or even joining in when you put on your favorite show; Hannibal.

This friendly bonding becomes more and more often, almost weekly you and Natasha find yourselves spending more time together, even time with just the two of you.

The more you spent together, the more the bond between the two of you began to bloom into something more, something beautiful.

"You know... I think I trust you more than anyone else." She would speak up randomly as you both sat against the headboard of your bed, watching your favorite movie.

"Even Stark?" You would ask.

"Yeah, even him." She would reply, her smile matching yours.

Before you knew it, everything would shift.

From small, gentle brushes of the fingers as either pass by or a rare, soft smile just for each other... It was obvious that there was something happening between you two.

On lazy days - not really, the both of you end up in the gym sparring most lazy days - but if you aren't in the gym; pushing for each other to be better, you and Nat would sit in quieter corners of the tower, away from the hustle of the others.

She'd sit beside you as you read, her hand resting on your leg or her head resting on your shoulder. She would sit and listen to you read, or when you weren't reading aloud, she would rest her eyes, maybe even nap; the soft sound of Paris Paloma and Lana del Rey in the background

As a couple, Natasha respects your boundaries and your need for space, but when she needs you, you’re always there— - strong and reliable. In return, she supports you, offering her own quiet form of affection.

You’re never truly alone.

You balance each other, and neither you nor Nat would have it any other way.

[mlm-writer]

If I Should Become a Stranger (Smokescreen x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Smokescreen (TFP ver.) x Human!Gender Neutral!Reader Rating: General Audiences Words: 1608 POV: Second Summary: Smokescreen left you over a decade ago to rebuild Cybertron and until today, you had not heard from him since. Note: Read a Transformers novel and then it really dawned on me how beings with such a long life span must view time differently. So this fic explores that a little. Inspired by this song. Tags: angst, hurt no comfort (for smokey tbh), breakup from Smokescreen’s POV and song fic. 

Humans would argue that in war, there was nothing as precious as love. In war, one should hug one's friends more often, hold one's family tighter and kiss one's lover longer. Such was the philosophy of men; cherish what you have now you have it. It was quite befitting to a race with such short lives. Cybertronian's however…

Even in war, many acted like life would never end. There was plenty of time to fight one's friends. There was even more time to find it in you to mend things, patch up the wounds you created together. Even when friends started to lose the light in their optics, when the streets started to fill with the husks of neighbours, when tomorrow was more a wish than a promise, even then, Cybertronians were often found doing anything but cherishing the moment. 

Smokescreen was no different. Sure, he was impatient and young by comparison, but even to him, everything seemed to be able to wait, 'fore there will be a later. Hence why he had no reservations about going to Cybertron to rebuild. Hence why he could look upon his human lover with a smile as bright as the full moon on a clear night, while saying his goodbyes. "I'll see you soon," he had said while swaggering backwards into the space bridge. You had believed him as much as you had loved him back then.  

"Hey Ratchet, any messages for me?" You asked as you always did when visiting the medic at the old base. Ratchet looked down at you with those same sorry optics. He didn't need to say anything, but he always gave you the courtesy of an answer. 

"I'm sorry, there has been no communication for you," he spoke evenly, trying to keep the pity out of his voice. It was always like that. At first you stopped by every few days, then weekly, monthly, every few months… at some point you forgot to go altogether. You moved for work, so it was suddenly a whole journey to come visit. You got fired from that job, then you got a new job. You fell in love, got your heart broken, broke a limb, healed both and what else? It was just life - life without sentient alien robots, explosions and secret government missions. 

It almost seemed like it had all been a dream. You had almost forgotten about all the adventures of your youth, were it not for that scar on your arm you got from a brief brush with Soundwave at the satellite array. That was just the start, but somehow you made it through several threats to the planet fairly unscathed. That scar on your arm was the only big reminder you had of those days aside from the pictures stuffed in a box in your garage, somewhere on a shelf that was too high for you to reach without a chair to stand on. 

You were about to drive back from work to that garage when you caught sight of a familiar car in the parking lot. The colours were not as you remembered them, but it was strange to see a sports car like this at an office like yours. You stared at the vehicle for a long time and then sighed, before opening the driver's door to your car. However, as soon as you opened the door, the sports car you had been staring at earlier flashed its lights and started honking. You squinted your eyes and closed the door again. 

You locked your car and walked over to the other car that was making a ruckus. As soon as you approached, it quieted down and the driver’s door opened on its own. Against your best judgement, you got in. When you sat down, the seat belt wrapped itself around you and the engine revved to life. “Missed me?” A familiar voice came from the radio as the car drove out of the parking lot to God-knows-where. However, hearing that voice, you felt no fear, no worries, just a deep-seated resentment that had been dormant for many years. 

“Smokescreen,”  you greeted your ride with a tight voice. Said Autobot made a joke about how you simply could not forget him. It only angered you more. You had forgotten, mostly, until now. After that greeting, the air chilled down and not a word was exchanged, until Smokescreen pulled up at the side of an abandoned road. There used to be a factory at the end of it, but since the building had been decommissioned, no one used the road anymore; it was leading to virtually nowhere nowadays. 

The seat belt unfastened and you got out. When your shoes hit the dusty ground, the vehicle transformed into a shape that you used to know. You marvelled at his size as if it was the first time you witnessed his transformation. Cybertronians did not age, but that young face you used to know seemed more mature anyway. There was something about his gaze that got more intense, more serious. There was a slouch in his posture that was the telltale weight of responsibilities befitting an adult. 

Smokescreen whispered your name after a while of quiet staring. “Why are you here?” You inquired as a response. Hurt was evident on his face, but you thought it was a valid question. For over a decade, there was radio silence. Why would he be here if not for another danger looming over your planet? 

Smokescreen let out a scoff. “To see you of course!” He beamed in spite of everything. It was your turn to scoff as you crossed your arms. Your ex looked you over and then, very intelligently, said: “You’ve become bigger! That’s really cool! I forgot humans could do that… Want to go to the drive-in theatre today?” 

You sighed and turned to walk back to your car. It was gonna be a long walk, but you were stubborn and too prideful to tell him to drive you back. “There are no drive-in theatres in this area..” 

You barely got a few steps away when Smokescreen yelled from behind you. “I should have left you a message! I’m sorry!” You kept walking, tears prickling in your eyes. “I forgot!” He added as if it was a valid excuse. 

“Well, I forgot who you are!” You yelled over your shoulder, speeding up your walking. You heard your ex transform behind you and like a bad movie, he started driving next to you. All that was missing was pouring rain, but the sky was so clear, you could see the many constellations gradually making themselves known. 

He was driving with the door closest to you open, trying to get you to get in. “Come on! It has not been that long! I admit I have changed a little, but I’m still me, your Smokey…” You tried to block his voice out, stubbornly trudging on down the abandoned road. “I came back, because I started talking about you so much, Arcee practically shoved me into the space bridge to shut me up. It’s been like my processors always circle back to you.” He swerved and came to a halt right in front of you, forcing you to stop walking. “I told you I would see you soon…” 

You took a deep breath, ensuring that whatever you said next would be spoken in a normal, even tone. Smokescreen reverted back to bot mode, looking at you with pleading optics that could once pull your heartstrings. However, those times were long behind you. “Smokescreen,” you started like you were lecturing a child, “it has been like what? A decade and some? That may not be a long time for you, but I am human. A decade right now is about a third of my life. You made me wait a third of my life. Does that sink in with you?” 

Smokescreen seemed to shrink, pinned under your intense gaze. “I’m sorry,” he muttered eventually. His servos clenched and unclenched. You could see his processors working overtime, just to formulate a response. “I guess you’re right. Cybertron has become quite lively. I proved myself a leader. I made a lot of new friends… Maybe it is a long time…” For someone with a seemingly endless supply of RAM, he was awfully slowly putting the events of the past decade in perspective. His voice trailed off after every sentence. Eventually he just whispered one last thing. “A third…” 

You pitied him. You had enough time to mend the heart he broke many years ago. To him, however, he came back like he said, just to find what he left behind to no longer exist. Without a word he transformed into his alt mode. “I’ll take you back,” he stated. You did not resist this time and got in. 

The drive back was quiet. You did not speak. He did not speak. Only white noise filled the spaces between one heavy spark and only a slightly lighter heart. He drove you back to the parking lot where you had your car. You were about to get out when you heard his voice one last time. “For what it is worth, let me just say: I love you. You’re the best thing I ever had.” 

In spite of him being a stranger from the past, your heart ached. “Your life is long. You’ll love again. Don’t worry.” You patted the steering wheel and then got out. You did not look back and by the time you sat in your car, your car was the only one in the parking lot with the lights on.

[the-one-0]

I want to introduce you all to my Arcana OC – Indigo. An elegant, thin and fragile elf. We love this, huh?

It took me about two months to design the character from scratch, create an accurate design for them and draw it all. And I'm happy with what I got in the end (but I still hate drawing hair).

Some facts about Indigo:

– For their race, they possessed some magical potential, but not too powerful, which is why they spent a lot of time and effort studying and practicing magic.

– Indigo is stronger in theory than in practice, but they are working on it.

– They have some complexes about appearance, namely, they are not satisfied with the structure of the eyelids (asian lol).

– Loves makeup, but they don't know how to apply it, which makes them even more upset about the structure of their own eyelids.

– They do not have the best eyesight (Indigo is quite short-sighted), but acute hearing never fails.

– The only weapon they have is a combat fan. They don't know how to handle other weapons besides this one.

– Ectomorph.

– They love fans of different designs and types, but they don't often part with their own, which is especially valuable to them. No one is allowed to touch this object.

– Their childhood years were spent in a small mountain village in the East. Indigo moved to Vesuvia with ambitions and desires to improve their live. They did not have the heart to stay in remote places for a long time. Moving was not easy for them, just like the process of obtaining high-level skills and status. And today, Indigo value their place and work very much.

– Not very long ago, they got to the position of court magician.

– Indigo dreams of having a pet, but they are not sure that they can provide it with a better life, so they postpone this moment over and over again.

– No matter how much they like Vesuvia, they are periodically overcome by longing for their native place, where they have not returned for many years and are not even completely sure if that village still exists.

– They are wary of strangers and try to keep communication with strangers to a minimum, but on their own initiative, Indigo never reject those who want to communicate with them. But they never start a dialogue first.

– They are prone to perfectionism and are often very critical of themselves and everything they say or do.

– Indigo cries when, while reading a book, they comes across a sad moment where someone feels bad/hurt. Often their impressionability makes them cry at the sight of dead birds and animals. This can spread to plants.

– Very harmless. They defend themselves only if the attitude towards them becomes frankly disgusting. Most often, they ignore small "red flags", even if they notice them, because Indigo always believe that everyone is wrong.

– Indigo is very passionate about history, art, philosophy and literature. They admire those who can draw, sing or write poetry, as they consider these to be the highest talents.

– They also admire those who are stronger than them in anything.

– Their anger manifests itself in the fact that they isolate themselves from everyone or specifically from the one who annoys them, so as not to say unpleasant things. It is difficult to determine that Indigo are annoyed by something. They won't show it.

– Indigo loves sweets so much. Any kind. Just give them more and they will be at your feet.

– They don't like tea. And coffee too.

– They get drunk quickly. Therefore, Indigo prefer not to get involved with alcohol.

[manatee-rp-memes]

Vanessa Carlton Song Lyric Starters

~Feel free to tweak as needed~

"I need you."

"I miss you."

"It's always times like these when I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me."

"It's nice not to be so alone."

"He's my first mistake."

"Maybe you were all faster than me."

"We gave each other up so easily."

"What I gave is yours to keep."

"I'm looking for wisdom in all the wrong places."

"I'm stubborn and wrong, but at least I know it."

"Thank you for believing in me now, 'cause I do need it."

"Who's to say that we're not good enough?"

"Sometimes family are the ones you'd choose."

"You say we're too young, but maybe you're too old to remember."

"I shine so bright when you're around."

“There's nothing you can do."

"The doctor says now it won't be long."

"I'd give my bones for you to get a few more years."

"I can't keep this all to myself."

"There's some words I never told you."

"There's a part of me no one will ever know."

"You're a genuine wannabe."

"As you walked into my life you showed what needed to be shown."

"I will never see the sky the same way."

"You taught me I could change whatever came within these shallow days."

"I didn't know that I could be so blind to all that is so real."

"Don't pretend you feel what I feel."

"You live illusion and I'm real."

"I know you don't really hear what I say."

"Take my hand."

"Don't you see your dreams lie right in the palm of your hand?"

"I know he's no stranger, for I feel I've held him for all of time."

"I wish I was the treasure that you were looking for."

"Things are going crazy and I'm not sure who to blame."

"Everything is changing."

"I'm trying to find a place where I can feel like I belong."

"The heart of a woman will never be found in the arms of a man."

"If only he was mine."

"It's hard to know what's good for you."

"I like your company."

"You've got a fresh philosophy."

"I don't want to have expectations, 'cause you could be the end of me."

"I don't want to be a bride."

"We will live like kings under lavender skies."

"Your silence cuts the deepest."

"I know I've made a mess of things, and I'm sorry for all that."

"I got your message, glad you're doing well."

"As usual, I'm in a tricky predicament."

"Tell me, will you miss me when I'm gone?"

"The wicked in me is surely the wicked in you."

"I am free to redefine me."

"Do you know who your enemy is?"

"Love is an art."

"Will you tell me your story? I just want to listen."

"I know you don't really mean it."

"I am useless here, and it feels so unfair."

[vinylspinning]

Frank Zappa: Them or Us (1984)

Frank Zappa often said that all of his works were part of a unified whole he dubbed the "Project/Object"; one big-ass "composition" connected by a "conceptual continuity" that saw him revisiting certain songs and subjects at random and when least expected.

Poodles, for instance ...

And in 1984, he obviously had that absurd breed on his mind, because he issued no less than three separate LPs boasting slight variations on the same canine artwork: the orchestral Boulez Conducts Zappa: The Perfect Stranger, the synclavier collection Francesco Zappa, and the double rock/pop compendium of Them or Us.

The latter arrived in stores 40 years ago and represents the "Project/Object" philosophy with its dizzying array of styles (performed by an army of musicians), strung together with no apparent care for "musical continuity," much like other double LPs Zappa had assembled in recent years.

Here's the problem: stack Them or Us alongside 1979's Sheik Yerbouti or even '81's You Are What You Is, and the overall decline in song quality and fresh concepts is pretty stark; suggesting that even rock's most eclectic musical genius was running short of ideas.

OK, so both the opening cover of The Channels' "The Closer You Are" and remake of "Sharleena" (first heard on 1970's Chunga's Revenge) are noteworthy for being largely irony-free, while the closing jam on The Allman Brothers' "Whipping Post" -- though masterfully executed -- is practically nothing BUT irony.

Yet another mutated doo wop, "Be in My Video," pokes fun at MTV's music video cliches and simply hasn't aged well, but let's not get off-track here: the bottom line is that most every other Zappa trope revisited here falls depressingly short of past efforts.

I'm talking about not-really-funny filler like "Baby, Take Your Teeth Out" and "Frogs with Dirty Little Lips," the lazy xenophobia of "In France," and sexist tour shenanigans of "Stevie's Spanking," which are distasteful even by '80s standards.

Worst of the bunch, "Truck Driver Divorce" is a complete waste of time and space -- truly embarrassing -- and "Planet of My Dreams" was recorded in 1981 and written in '72 for Zappa's unrealized stage musical Hunchentoot, which sounds like a Spinal Tap gag, don't it? (*)

All three of the featured guitar showcases are edited and remixed from past live improvisations, and while the title cut and "Marque-son's Chicken" both have their moments, the pick of the litter, "Sinister Footwear II," once again extemporizes on an older idea.

Finally, the album's saving grace and best number, by far, "Ya Hozna," is quite literally a Frankenstein -- brought back to life with electricity and a bunch of spare, pre-used "body" parts!

Combining 5/4 and 6/4 time with Steve Vai's hard rocking staccato riffs and solos, plus backward vocals taken from old Zappa material like "Sofa No. 2," "Lonely Little Girl," and Moon Unit's "Valley Girl" outtakes, the song makes no sense whatsoever but it still rocks.

But it hardly justifies Them or Us' price of admission, let alone Zappa's overloaded release schedule in 1984, which reached a new low with the atrocious stage musical, Thing Fish: maybe the only product issued in Frank's lifetime I have no desire to own.

Luckily, 1985 would give Zappa a new, more important topic to focus on -- politics -- as he took part in the Congressional hearings to address the P.M.R.C.'s crusade against free speech in popular music, and remained engaged with political matters for the rest of his life.

* Frank evidently watched the legendary "mockumentary," because "Be in My Video" includes the following telltale lyrics:

"Wear a leather collar; And a dagger in your ear; I will try to make you smell the glove; And to try to look sincere."

More Frank Zappa: Freak Out!, Absolutely Free, Lumpy Gravy, We’re Only in it for the Money, Cruising with Ruben and the Jets, Uncle Meat, Hot Rats, Burnt Weenie Sandwich, Weasels Ripped My Flesh, Chunga’s Revenge, Fillmore East – June 1971, 200 Motels,Just Another Band from L.A., Waka/Jawaka, The Grand Wazoo, Over-nite Sensation, Apostrophe (’), Roxy & Elsewhere, One Size Fits All, Bongo Fury, Zoot Allures, Studio Tan, Sleep Dirt, Sheik Yerbouti, Orchestral Favorites, Joe’s Garage Act I, Joe’s Garage Act II & III, “I Don’t Wanna Get Drafted,” You Are What You Is, Ship Arriving too Late to Save a Drowning Witch, The Man from Utopia, London Symphony Orchestra Vol. I, Meets the Mothers of Prevention, Jazz from Hell, Broadway the Hard Way.

[denimbex1986]

'We knew from the moment we first saw All Of Us Strangers all the way back in January that Andrew Haigh's film, a haunting queer romance centred around Andrew Scott's isolated writer Adam and the connection he makes with Paul Mescal's sad-eyed drifter Harry, was special. Is it a ghost story? A fever dream? A tangible construct formed of a grieving man's subconscious? We didn't — and still don't truly — know, but by God we felt every exquisite moment of its magnetising melancholy, its smouldering sensuality. So much so that when we came to write Empire's 'Best Movies Of 2024 (So Far)' list in June, Haigh's movie sat comfortably in podium place on the list. And now, a full twelve months since the movie first released stateside, All Of Us Strangers has taken root even deeper in our hearts — and soared right to the top of our Best Movies Of 2024 list.

“This is so cool," says director Haigh when Empire shares the news that his latest has just been voted our film of the year, "I’ve read Empire literally since it first came out." And for the Harrogate born filmmaker, whose past works include the likes of Looking, 45 Years, Lean On__Pete, and Weekend, the recognition still being given to his sixth feature offers an opportunity for reflection. "The idea that I could ever be even involved in film, let alone be a director, was so out of my imagination, so it’s very cool to now be here. I appreciate it," says Haigh. "When I made the film, I was never sure if it would find an audience. So it’s been the biggest joy that it has found that audience, and continually finds that audience. The fact that people still even talk about it a year later is really meaningful. It really seems to have resonated. You can’t ask for any more than that. It’s pretty exciting that it’s number one after all this time.

One of the things that has really All Of Us Strangers stand out among its peers in what has been another exceptional year for cinema is just how intensely personal its story of love, loss, and soul-deep longing truly is. Even now, Haigh finds himself wrestling with just how much of himself he poured into this one. “I’m not a particularly extroverted person, and the fact that there is now this kind of personal story about me out there, I’ve found that a little bit hard," Haigh admits. "It’s taken me, actually, a little bit of time to deal with that. Even the fact that I shot it in my [old] house."

But if putting his heart on the line for his art was a huge and, at least for a time, difficult step for Haigh, then it was also one that ultimately felt worth taking. "The want of most filmmakers is to be able to say something about how they see and understand the world, and allow that out into the world, to resonate with other people," the director explains. "So it is really quite a powerful thing, when you are sharing your own personal philosophy of life, and something based on some element of personal experience, and then have that speak to other people. And I can’t tell you how many people have come to me to tell me their own stories, whether it’s about losing a parent, or whether it’s about growing up gay, or whether it’s just about feeling alone in the world. That feels special."

Reflecting on the outpouring of pure emotion All Of Us Strangers has been met with now, almost a full year since it was released into the world, Haigh is as philosophical, poetic, and honest as his work. “If a piece of art can make you feel less alone, even if it’s desperately sad and melancholy, if it allows you to feel like, ‘Oh my God, I am not the only one that suffers in the world’ — that’s a very powerful thing," he shares. "Because we often don’t express how we feel, even to those who are closest to us. And art can tap into that shared loneliness that we all experience in the world. It’s also quite unusual sometimes: I’ve been in places and someone will start talking about the film and they’ll start crying. That’s quite a powerful thing to have to experience. Sometimes you don’t know what to do. You’re sort of, ‘Okay...’ Pat them on the shoulder. ‘I’m sorry for you...’ I literally could not have asked for more for this film. It’s more than I ever dreamed.” That's the power of love, right there, people. And the power of All Of Us Strangers, Empire's film of the year. *Dissolves into the cosmos as Frankie Goes To Hollywood plays us out*'

[valos-venus-doom]

Drawn & Quartered [Chapter 4]

February 10th 2007

Ville sat looking at the alluring brunette in front of him, her eyes sparkled in the light of the candles between them. He was on his first "first date" in eons.

Her name was Caitlyn. A stunning 25 year old Starbucks barista Ville had met when a new location popped up in his neighborhood. He began going first thing in the morning, every morning (because sobriety meant he was up before the birds most days) because the gorgeous girl behind the counter charmed him and made him laugh. And genuinely laugh. Not the polite laughter you do when a stranger makes a bad joke. He learned her schedule and was there every single day she worked until he worked up the courage to ask her out.

To Ville's surprise, he wasn't nervous. Not at all, in fact, it felt like being out to dinner with a longtime friend. He was completely at ease and comfortable around her, which was a big deal for him.

She had big hazel eyes, full lips, and a body he couldn't stop thinking about getting on top of. But more than that, she was extremely smart and captivated him. Caitlyn was going to school for business management and he loved listening to her talk about it. She was unlike any woman he had ever dated and he told anyone who'd listen that she was the one.

And when she laughed? It made Ville's stomach flutter. She had the best laugh he'd ever heard.

"And long story short, this is why taking Philosophy is terrible and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone." Caitlyn concluded her tirade on why Philosophy 101 was the worst class she had ever taken. She had saved it for last and it wad the last credit she needed to graduate.

"When do you graduate again?" Ville asked, sipping his water.

"May." Caitlyn said with a smile before sipping her white wine.

"Nearly there." Ville smiled.

"Yes and oh my God I am so ready to be done. As soon as that Master's degree is in my hands, I'm quitting Starbucks with two middle fingers up in the air."

Ville laughed, "But then where am I going to get coffee from every morning?"

"I said I was quitting, not burning down the joint." She teased.

"But your coffee is better than anyone elses."

"You get your coffee black. Anyone can do that." She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Mm, not sure that's true. You must do something special to it." Ville smirked.

"How about making it at home?" Caitlyn stuck her tongue out at him.

"You gonna come over every morning and make it for me?" Ville stared her down suggestively.

"Maybe..." Caitlyn eyed him seductively over the rim of her wine glass.

An hour later, Ville had Caitlyn on her back on his couch. They couldn't hold back long enough to make it upstairs to his bed.

"Oh god, Cait, fuck yes." Ville groaned before attacking her lips again, moaning into the kiss passionately.

Caitlyn pushed him off her til he was seated on the couch, she straddled his hips and held his shoulders as she rode him, nails slightly digging into his flesh. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her tits that Ville attacked lustfully, bringing Caitlyn to orgasm.

"God yes, I love your dick." Caitlyn groaned through gritted teeth, her body a vice around his cock as she came.

Ville realized she was dirty talker and he fucking loved it. He exploded immediately with an orgasm so intense he couldn't even breathe, let alone make noise. His mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut, hips spasming. Thank God Caitlyn already came because he literally couldn't stop himself.

When he reopened his eyes as the orgasm subsided, Caitlyn was gazing at him with a small smirk. Ville was convinced she was a goddess. She had to have been, she was not of this realm. It was in that moment he was sure of two things:

1. He was madly in love.

2. Caitlyn was The One.

Christmas Day, 2011. 10am.

Ville awoke with a start. He stared into the cold grey morning light creeping into his bedroom. It was a dream. About her. Again.

Ville held Caitlyn's pillow tightly in his arms, inhaling its scent; Redken shampoo, Victoria Secret perfume, and her natural smell. Eau de Caitlyn.

Too numb to cry, the last 2 days since getting home had been a nightmare of his own creation.

He flip-flopped between grief and rage. Both at himself and at Cait.

He had written out so many texts, but never sent them. He didn't know how to say "Fuck you, come home." eloquently.

Suddenly a text came through and his heart jumped. He grabbed his phone so quickly he lost grip and it flew across the floor and he rolled out of bed after it, looking at the text on his knees on the floor, blanket wrapped around his waist.

He knew in his heart it was Caitlyn.

But it wasn't. It was his mother wishing him a Merry Christmas and asking when he and Caitlyn would be over to spend the day with them as per tradition.

Ville felt like he was going to be sick. It was Christmas. He'd forgotten completely. But he was so far from the spirit he may as well have been Ebenezer Scrooge.

"Hey, sorry, I've been up sick all night. I must have caught something from the tour. I'll come by another day. Love you." He texted back to his mother, lying.

"Well if you haven't infected her, send Cait. We love and miss you both. Xx" his mother replied.

That text made it so much worse. He knew his family adored Caitlyn, and she them. They all got along so well. It warmed Ville's heart when he'd see Caitlyn in the kitchen helping his mother. Or playing retro games on their 20 year old Super Nintendo with his brother. Or talking business and current events with his dad over coffee.

She was a perfect fit for the Valo family. She was perfect in general. And she was gone.

Ville didn't answer his mother's text. Instead he climbed back into bed. He gripped Cait's pillow tight, inhaling deeply, before rolling over and going back to sleep. Before he drifted off, he relented, he was going to call Caitlyn. White flag flying, he surrendered. He couldn't take another day with her. But first, sleep.

Ville awoke hours later to his phone ringing and it was dark. 'I slept all day?' He immediately thought to himself before looking at the screen to see who was calling, hoping desperately it was Caitlyn, hoping she was feeling the same sense of longing and wanting to surrender, too.

But it wasn't Caitlyn. It was his brother, Jesse.

"Hello?"

"Hey, dude. I've been knocking. It's fucking cold and snowing its ass off out here. Open the door."

"One sec." And Ville hung up. He pulled on pants before scurrying down to his front door. Jesse never just showed up, so this was odd, Ville thought to himself.

Ville opened the door to see his brother standing on the other side in the snow that began falling at some point. "Hey. What's up?"

Jesse walked into the house taking off his snow covered boots. "Well, I heard from Mom that you were sick. So I was coming to check on my big brother. It is Christmas after all."

"How very sweet of you." Ville replied blankly. He loved his brother, but right now he was in no mood for visitors. It was interrupting his miserable self-loathing.

Jesse stared at Ville straightfaced, "You don't look sick to me. So, wanna tell me what's really going on?"

"Nothing." Ville stared back at his brother who was clearly calling him out in his lie... but there was something else Jesse clearly knew, he could see it in his eyes. And Jesse didnt ask where Caitlyn was, as he usually would have.

"What do you know?" Ville asked quietly, not breaking eye contact. He was dreading having to finally tell someone that he and Caitlyn broke up.

"Well one of two things happened," Jesse began. "Either you and Cait broke up, or she's in the mountains cheating on you right now." Jesse's tone was serious.

"But," Jesse continued, "I doubt she'd be this open about cheating on you publicly on social media. I'm no Sherlock Holmes but it seems like you broke up with her and haven't told anyone. Which would explain why you lied to mom and didn't show up for Christmas."

"Cheating on me?" Ville asked blankly staring at his brother. His face suddenly hot, his ears felt like they were on fire, and his stomach sick. It felt as though there was barbed wire in his windpipe.

"Why the fuck else would this be on her Instagram?" Jesse pulled out his phone and showed him a picture of Caitlyn and Matthias kissing on a ski lift.

Jesse knew Ville had no form of social media, so when he was scrolling through Instagram at his parents' house and came across that picture, he was stunned. And he knew Ville was probably none the wiser.

Jesse scrolled through both Caitlyn and Matthias' accounts finding a lot of pictures together with a group of friends, both tagging each other in all the pictures, with heart emojis galore. Some were innocuous enough, sure. But the kissing picture was a glaring red flag. And so was the picture of Caitlyn in a jacuzzi, breasts barely hidden under the bubbling water, and cuddling Matthias.

Ville stared at the photo, his hands began to shake as rage rose within him like boiling flood water. After a moment of staring he averted his eyes and began to chuckle darkly. "That fucking cunt...." he turned away from Jesse. His arms raised and he interlocked his fingers together behind his head and began pacing. Breathing hard.

"So she is cheating?" Jesse asked, extremely confused. Unable to gauge his brother's crazed reaction.

"Nope! She can do whatever it is Her Highness wants! That fucking bitch..." Ville broke into a fit of crazed laughter. "Oh wow."

"Are you high?" Jesse asked blankly. "Or do you need to be?"

"She moved out." Ville sighed, a delirious smile on his face, a millisecond later, Ville threw his fist through the drywall beside him. "Fuck!" He screamed at nothing in particular.

"She broke up with you?" Jesse asked unphased, he'd seen Ville put his fist threw many a wall. It was a Ville Valo signature move.

"Nope. I broke up with her." Ville shook his head, laughing, pacing

"When?"

"Two weeks ago. Didn't take the cunt long to move on, did it?" He sighed as he moved to sit on his couch. "Fucking slut. Of course she's in the the next one."

"What happened?"

"She and her little dumb cunt friends, as you see pictured on the Facebook-a-gram," he gestured dismissively at the phone still in Jesse's hand, "All went on a ski trip two weeks ago and KNOWING full well I was about to leave on tour. But she didnt care. No, no. Instead she ignored my texts, and refused to come home. And then she DID come home, acting like a cunt, calling me an asshole and bitching that I never let her do anything, so I told her I was done." Ville explained viciously.

"Ville..." Jesse knew that probably wasn't the case. He knew Caitlyn pretty well, that didn't sound like her. And knowing his brother, knew some details were being left out.

"Okay. Maybe I was being a passive aggressive asshole, but she made me feel so fucking unimportant. All I wanted was to spend time with her! Was that too much to fucking ask?!" Ville ranted, kicking over the coffee table in front of him.

"Ville.... you broke up with Caitlyn 2 weeks ago?" Jesse asked, connecting the dots.

"Yeah." Ville replied, sitting back against the couch, his heart beating in his ears.

"On the 11th?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah." Ville responded, more irritated this time. "What the fuck are you getting at? What does that fucking matter?"

Jesse stared at his brother. "Did you realize the 11th was on the 6 month anniversary of her father's death?"

Ville froze.

"You know, the 6 month anniversary ofthe death of her last living parent, and right before her first Christmas without him?"

Ville's stomach turned as Jesse spelled it out like he was a Kindergartener.

Jesse continued, moving closer, speaking downward at his brother who was seated on the couch, "And you made her feel like shit for going on a trip, doing the one activity that she and her father held dear? And then broke up with her? What in the entire *fuck* is wrong with you, man? I'm surprised she didn't break up with you herself."

Ville's expression changed from stunned realization to a scowl. He stood up fast, furious at himself but ready to direct it towards his brother, he got nearly in his face "Jesse, fuck off. You weren't even there! You're really gonna side with her? She's fucking my friend, first of all!"

Ville didn't appreciate the feeling of being being judged, especially when it was dawning on him that he was in the wrong. "And sec-second of all," Ville, ready to defend himself, paused and swallowed hard. But it felt like swallowing a razorblade, "Second of all...." he struggled to continue. "W-when you put it like that..." Ville's voice broke, his lip trembled and he dissolved into tears, face in his hands.

Jesse's expression softened as saw his brother break. He wrapped his arms around his big brother and sat them both down on the couch to better hold and console him.

"I was going to propose." Ville sobbed into his brother's shoulder, snot and tears getting on his jacket but Jesse couldn't have cared less. "Midnight. New Years. On stage. I had it all planned with manager at Tavastia--" he choked. "What am I gonna do?" Ville wept, his voice cracking.

Jesse held his older brother, "Ville. Ville, come on. It's going to be okay. Have you even talked to her since all this happened?"

Ville lifted his head and wiped his face on a t-shirt he'd thrown on the couch days ago. "N-no." Ville answered. "I was so fucking angry... I refused to call her. I wanted her to call me. I didn't think I did anything wrong." Ville sniffed. "At the time." He clarified.

"Okay, well that's step number one. Talk. To. Her." he urged him. "Maybe she feels the same--"

Ville shook his head, interrupting him "No. She is clearly with Matthias right now." He looked tearfully at his brother. "She clearly moved on."

"That isn't necessarily true..." Jesse tried to

"She fucking wasted NO time getting on another man's dick, did she?" Ville's emotional pendulum began to swing back to rage from sorrow. "And with Matthias? My fucking friend? That fucking bastard. What a friend, huh?" Ville stood up, pacing again.

"Before you put another hole in the drywall, remember you were the one who broke up with her." Jesse tried to calmly remind him.

Ignoring Jesse, Ville grabbed his shoes. "I fucking gave that bitch everything. I moved heaven and earth for her, and this is what she does? Do I not mean anything? Did WE not mean anything? And with my friend? How fucking dare she." Ville seethed and raged. "I'm getting a drink. Come with me, or don't, I don't give a fuck."

"Oh I'm coming with you, I'm not letting you out into the world unsupervised in this state." Jesse replied, grabbing his boots too.

[estel-noreflecti0n]

Crave

someone beloved was once an uncaring stranger and that has a curious way of reminding me of death, conscience does that to you, doesn't it? The prospect of loneliness hides with intimacy between lines, veils and half hearted apologies, the rail sings of an approaching train letting me know that the sun is always setting somewhere, the bathroom mirror yells something about being not really there and pain isn't permanent, mostly, but often it feels like it should be. What if awareness of our own failings was the lesser of our premade evils? I never blamed you for your borrowed concept of freedom, but I wish you could see that a knife only dreams of cutting itself free. Even now that I'm more of a fighter than a lover, my arms lay open seeking the embrace of an otherwise empty bed, and I don't blame you for not being there, only for saying that you wish you were. I wait for sleep sedated by a black blanket, because at this point breathing is pretty much the only thing I am sure I'm good at, invasive thoughts come in the shape of your unevenly bent lips and I feel like a thousand years old while I whisper that it's better to never have been, Would you miss my theatrics? I know they are the better part of me. I wish for rain but summer turns everything into a parody of itself, I'm sweating and thinking about how we were domesticated into a species of cowards and sycophants, and in my delusion I whisper that you were right, So few things truly end and my ending lied at your absent fingertips, not that we wanted it, not that we worked for it, it was just the natural conclusion of our addictions and I'm not even suicidal anymore, I've been here for longer than most believed I would and while I don't enjoy it I still crave the needles of your mouth piercing my bruised veins, I still crave the song of your breath early in the morning with my ear stitched to your heart, I still crave the way you dream of lost philosophies while being unaware that you are doing so and yet the blanket looms over me like a shroud of where we could be, had the universe not conspired to keep us apart.

[rosaliachristian]

Thursday, July 3, 2025

Bishop Robert Barron

Cycle C

Ordinary Time

13th wk of Ordinary Time

Daily Reading

First Reading

Ephesians 2:19-22

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God,built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord;in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.

Psalm

Psalm 117:1-2

Praise the Lord, all you nations!     Extol him, all you peoples! For great is his steadfast love toward us,     and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!

Gospel Reading

John 20:24-29

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Reflection

Friends, today’s Gospel tells of Thomas’ doubting the Resurrection. Indeed, Catholicism has a rich tradition of questioning, seeking understanding. Aquinas, another great St. Thomas, spent much of his life asking and answering hard questions about the faith.  Do you remember Hamlet’s great line, “There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio”? If we stubbornly say—even in the area of science—that we will accept only what we can clearly see and touch and control, we wouldn’t know much about reality.  There is, in most areas of life, a play between knowing and believing. It is not unique to the religious sphere of life. Blaise Pascal summed it up: “The heart has its reasons that reason knows not.” It is not that we who have not seen and have believed are settling for a poor substitute for vision. No, we are being described as blessed, more blessed than Thomas. God is doing all sorts of things that we cannot see, measure, control, fully understand. But it is an informed faith that allows one to fall in love with such a God.

[victoriesvibes2025]

How One Ellen DeGeneres Fan Changed Their Life with a Simple T-Shirt: The Power of “Stay True. Follow Passion.”

The Moment Everything Changed

Have you ever stumbled upon a quote that seemed to speak directly to your soul? For millions, words are more than just ink on a page-they’re the spark that ignites transformation. At Victories Vibes, we believe that a single phrase, especially when worn close to the heart, can be the catalyst for a whole new chapter in life. Today, we’re sharing the powerful, imaginative story of Jamie, a lifelong Ellen DeGeneres fan, whose journey of self-discovery and courage began with a simple T-shirt and the words: “Stay true. Follow passion.”

Finding Inspiration in a World of Uncertainty

Jamie had always admired Ellen DeGeneres-not just for her humor and talent, but for her unwavering authenticity. Ellen’s journey from stand-up comedy to daytime television icon was paved with resilience, kindness, and the courage to be unapologetically herself. For Jamie, Ellen was more than a celebrity; she was a beacon of hope during the stormiest days.

Life, however, wasn’t always easy for Jamie. Like many, Jamie struggled with self-doubt, feeling lost in the expectations of others. The pressure to fit in-to follow a path that felt safe but unfulfilling-was overwhelming. The dream of pursuing a creative career seemed out of reach, overshadowed by the fear of judgment and failure.

But one day, while scrolling through social media, Jamie saw a post from Victories Vibes featuring a T-shirt emblazoned with the quote: “Stay true. Follow passion.” The words echoed Ellen’s own philosophy-be authentic, embrace your quirks, and chase what sets your soul on fire. Jamie felt an instant connection. Could a simple T-shirt really be the reminder needed to break free?

The Science Behind Wearing Your Inspiration

Before diving into Jamie’s transformation, let’s explore why inspirational quotes, especially when worn, can be so powerful. As highlighted in The Power of Positive Quotes, words have the ability to rewire our brains. This isn’t just wishful thinking-it's science.

When we expose ourselves to positive affirmations, our brains release dopamine, the “feel-good” neurotransmitter. Over time, these affirmations create new neural pathways, reinforcing confidence, resilience, and optimism. This process, known as neuroplasticity, means our thoughts can literally shape our reality.

Wearing a T-shirt with a motivational quote like “Stay true. Follow passion.” serves as a daily affirmation. Each glance in the mirror, each compliment from a friend, becomes a micro-moment of encouragement. The message isn’t just for the world-it’s for the wearer, a constant nudge to live authentically and pursue what matters most.

Jamie’s Journey-From Self-Doubt to Self-Discovery

The day Jamie’s Victories Vibes T-shirt arrived was the beginning of a subtle but profound shift. Pulling the soft fabric over their shoulders, Jamie felt a surge of excitement-and nervousness. Would this really make a difference?

At first, it was the small things. Jamie noticed a boost in confidence when wearing the shirt to the local coffee shop. Strangers smiled, and a barista even commented, “That’s a great message!” The words became a conversation starter, a way to connect with others who valued authenticity and passion.

But the real change happened internally. Each morning, Jamie stood before the mirror, reading the words aloud: “Stay true. Follow passion.” The phrase became a mantra, a shield against negativity and self-doubt. When faced with tough decisions-whether to apply for a creative job, share artwork online, or speak up in meetings-Jamie remembered the message and chose courage over comfort.

Turning Inspiration into Action

Inspired by Ellen’s example and the daily reminder on their chest, Jamie began to take bold steps. First, Jamie started a blog, sharing stories of personal growth, creativity, and the challenges of staying true in a world that often rewards conformity. The blog quickly gained traction, attracting readers who resonated with Jamie’s vulnerability and honesty.

Next came the decision to audition for a local improv group-a dream Jamie had shelved for years. The fear of rejection was real, but the T-shirt’s message was louder. Jamie walked into the audition room, heart pounding, but grounded in the belief that following passion was worth any risk.

To Jamie’s delight, the audition was a success. Performing on stage, Jamie felt alive, connected, and empowered. Each performance was a celebration of authenticity-a tribute to Ellen, to the power of positive words, and to the courage it takes to follow one’s heart.

The Ripple Effect-Inspiring Others

What started as a personal transformation soon became a ripple effect. Friends and family noticed the change in Jamie-more confidence, more joy, more willingness to try new things. When asked about the secret, Jamie would simply point to the T-shirt and share the story.

Soon, others were inspired to seek out their own Victories Vibes apparel. Some chose quotes that resonated with their journeys-“Give more, Get more.” or “Defy limits. Rewrite rules.” Each shirt became a badge of honor, a symbol of commitment to personal growth.

Jamie’s story was even featured in a Victories Vibes community spotlight, inspiring countless others to embrace their true selves and pursue their passions. The message was clear: one quote, one T-shirt, one decision to stay true could change everything.

Real Stories, Real Science

Jamie’s transformation isn’t unique. At Victories Vibes, we’ve heard from hundreds of fans whose lives have changed through the power of positive quotes. The science is clear-affirmations, especially when integrated into daily life, can rewire our brains for success.

A study published in Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience found that self-affirmations activate brain regions associated with self-processing and goal-setting. When we wear, repeat, and believe in positive messages, we reinforce a stronger, more resilient self-identity.

For Jamie, “Stay true. Follow passion.” wasn’t just a slogan-it was a lifeline. It was the difference between staying stuck and stepping into a life of purpose and joy.

How You Can Start Your Own Journey

If Jamie’s story resonates with you, know that you’re not alone. The journey to self-discovery and fulfillment begins with a single step-a decision to embrace your authentic self and pursue what lights you up inside.

Here are a few ways to harness the power of positive quotes in your own life:

Wear Your Inspiration: Choose a Victories Vibes T-shirt with a quote that speaks to your soul. Let it be your daily reminder to stay true, follow passion, and never settle for less than you deserve.

Create Daily Rituals: Start each day by reading your favorite quote aloud. Write it in your journal, post it on your wall, or set it as your phone background.

Share the Message: Inspire others by sharing your story. Whether on social media or in conversation, let your journey encourage those around you.

Take Bold Action: Use the confidence from your daily affirmations to try something new-start a project, pursue a hobby, or take a risk that excites you.

Join the Community: Connect with other Victories Vibes fans. Share your victories, support each other, and celebrate the power of words to change lives.

One Quote Can Change Everything

Jamie’s story is a testament to the power of words, the influence of our heroes, and the magic that happens when we choose to live authentically. Ellen DeGeneres once said, “Follow your passion. Stay true to yourself. Never follow someone else’s path unless you’re in the woods and you’re lost and you see a path. By all means, you should follow that.”

At Victories Vibes, we believe every person deserves to feel empowered, inspired, and connected to their purpose. Our T-shirts are more than fabric-they’re a movement, a daily affirmation, and a promise to yourself that you will stay true and follow your passion.

Are you ready to write your own story? To step into the life you’ve always dreamed of? Start with a single quote. Wear it proudly. Let it guide you, inspire you, and remind you every day that you have the power to change your life.

Shop the “Stay true. Follow passion.” T-shirt now and join the Victories Vibes movement. Your journey starts here.

What could these words do for you? Discover the answer-one quote, one step, one life-changing decision at a time.

Ready to transform your life? Click here to purchase your Victories Vibes T-shirt and start your journey today!

Inspired by real stories and the science of positive quotes, Victories Vibes is dedicated to helping you become the best version of yourself-one empowering message at a time.

[dutyled]

birthday: march 12th

Sun - Self, individuality, personality

People born under the sign of Pisces are just like people born under the sign of Aquarius influenced by two planets. Jupiter gives them sense for justice, social conscience and willingness to help others, while Neptune both helps them and complicates their life. Neptune gives them imagination, creativity and emotionality, but it also gives them hypersensitivity and dreaminess that leads to passivity, indecision and excessive sensitivity. These people are very shy and especially at a young age they find it very hard to communicate with other people, even with children of the same age. They find it hard to go shopping, to ask strangers for directions, or to organise something, even if it was just going to the post office. People born under the sign of Pisces retain many inhibitions even in adulthood, even though over the time circumstances force them to develop regular habits and get rid of unnecessary fear. Many of them change these qualities into a kind of deliberate coquetry, because over time they notice that their shyness is often graciously accepted by others and they can easily get what they want by displaying it. This sign creates people who are dependent on their home environment, because it is the only place where they feel safe and comfortable, and where they dream of incredible adventures in which they are the heroes.

Moon - Emotions, instincts, roots, mother

The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief. You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas. You also need activity, whether it is travelling or sports. Your love for horses, dogs or other animals is also important. You have an optimistic approach to life and you believe that things will get better even if you get into trouble. You might have the nature of a gambler and you have the need to take risks when you want to achieve something. Your innate spontaneity and openness is very refreshing for people around you. You may be full of optimism in the company of others, but when you are alone you may sometimes feel emptiness.

Mercury - Thinking, communication, intellect, learning

People with Mercury in Pisces like art, mysticism and psychology. These people speak with emotions. They have a sensitive mind that absorbs a lot of information. Ideas and solutions emerge easily, without any effort. Because of this mental connection, they are sometimes not sure if their thoughts are their own. They unfortunately often resist the sensitivity of their mind. They doubt their credibility because it seems to them that some thoughts and opinions come "from elsewhere." Resisting the sensitivity of their brain will eventually lead to certain mental exhaustion. However, if they stop worrying about it and let their ideas flow through their mind then these thoughts will give them great inspiration.

Venus - Sensuality, love, harmony, pleasure

Venus in Taurus is a great position because Venus is full of energy and has a stronger influence than in other signs. This position has a very positive influence on money matters, especially on profit from one's own work, regardless of any occupation. These people are friendly and social, and their behaviour brings up the same feelings in others. People with Venus in Taurus are marked by the inertia of their opinions. They adhere to opinions they have once accepted. They are generous but they do not waste money. They like politeness. People with Venus in Taurus know well what satisfies their senses and they can therefore be successful in a number of artistic fields - they can sing beautifully, they can have a great voice, be great chefs or be good in other things that bring satisfaction and joy to other people. They have a highly developed sense of touch. But their amazing feeling for physical things causes a dependence on the physical evidence that they are valued and wanted. They need a great deal of physical affection in order to feel loved - just words or hints are not enough.