#and they inspired millions of people to hold space in their hearts for love

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Heart Eyes

Painted for a lovely moot on Xitter 💖

#wang YiBo #xiao zhan #yizhan #wangxiao #fanart #this happened #WYB and XZ sang a love song together #more than once #and the expressions on their faces really happened #in this reality #nothing can change that #no matter how much some people wish it never had… this happened #these heart eyes #this look of adoration #it happened #and they inspired millions of people to hold space in their hearts for love #that is a beautiful thing to me #i love them your honor #my art #digital artwork

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hey so I just found your account and omg?? it's literally so amazing 😭✋

Anyways-I was just looking through a bunch of the twist monster au headcannons/stories, and I thought of a scenario that could be done!

Basically the cast reacting to gender neutral or female reader/yuu acting stuff out in their book they are reading like poses, dialogue, just genuine reactions to the text itself

ex. Throwing the book across the room and them being genuinely concerned that something happened bc reader is just staring off into space or cursing but what actually happened was either a character died/did something embarrassing/the mc and love interest finally kiss

Anyways that's all I had in mind hope you have a good day/night! <3

Omg thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the content! QvQ

Ah, books. Such a wonderful creation humans made to fill us with raw, pure emotion or shattering our hearts and souls into a million tiny pieces—only for us to read it again and again! Don’t you just love those moments as a reader? UvU

Except for cliffhangers. Readers have a love/hate relationship with it, writers adore cliffhangers! ÒvÓ

So, what happens if we take a bookreader!Yuu (they/them) and throw them into Twisted Monsterland where even the history books read like a world guide/omnibus to a game or TV series? Oh, and I took a bit of inspiration from a Disney princess comic and a Bill Watterson “Calvin and Hobbes” comic for two of these scenarios. 😂

/-----------/

“Jeez, you sure you’ve got enough books, Yuu?”

“The librarian wouldn’t let me check out more than ten at a time,” Yuu replied, their backpack and arms filled with thick books. “Wish I could’ve gotten ten more at least, but this’ll do for now.”

“Are you sure you can even read all those before next semester?” Deuce asked in concern. “Those look pretty…dense.”

“Oh, I’ll be done in a week. Maybe a week and a half if we get a lot of homework.”

“Funya?! You gotta be kidding me!” Grim said. “Can humans read that fast?”

“Not everyone. Some people are slow readers, but that’s okay since they enjoy it at their own pace while I enjoy it at mine. Only problem for me is choosing which one of these I want to read first!”

/Later that night/

“Yuu? It’s time to eat!” Grim called out. Silence greeted him as he stared at Yuu, who was sitting on the couch with their face practically buried in a book. Frowning, the chimera padded over to the couch and repeated, “Yuu! I’m hungry!”

Still the human didn’t seem to respond, their shoulders hunching as they turned the page.

“Yuu? Yuu!” Huffing, Grim crossed his arms as he glared up at them. “You’ve been reading for the past three hours! How much longer are you gonna read that book?”

“What’s going on, pal?” one of the ghosts asked as the trio appeared.

Gesturing his paws at Yuu, he said, “They’ve been reading ever since we got back from the library today, and now they’re not reactin’ to me. It’s dinner time and they haven’t made any food yet!”

Before anyone could even think of what to say, a loud, shrill squeal filled the dorm.

“Eeeeeee!!!” Yuu squealed, a huge grin on their face as they flopped to the side and kicked their legs like a nervous rabbit while holding the book against their chest. “Omg it happened, it happened!!”

“Mrah!? What?! What happened?!” Grim yelled, wings flared out defensively while his fur bristled. “Why are you yelling!”

“My new OTP!! They finally kissed!!” Yuu said, their eyes wide as they rocked from side to side. “They kissed!! Yes!! Yesyesyesyesyessssss!!!”

“OTP? What’s an OTP??” one of the other ghosts asked.

“It’s what we like to call the ‘one true pairing’ in a story,” Yuu explained, a positively giddy expression on their face with eyes shining brighter than the stars as they struck a dramatic pose. “It’s two characters who vibe with each other on a level that you just can’t help but want them to be together—and the author brought these two together!! Yeeeeeeeee, I’m so happy!!”

“And loud,” Grim grumbled, paws clamped over his ears. “Why are you standing like that?”

“It’s how the main character professed their love for the other!”

“…are all humans as weird as you?”

“Trust me, there are people out there that are way crazier in their excitement than I am right now.”

“Really?!”

“Oh yeah. Don’t even get me started on the fanfics people write.”

“Fan…fics?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child…”

/Two days later/

“Heeeey, lil’ Shrimpy~!”

“Mm…”

“Eh…? Hey, Shrimp…why are you ignorin’ us? It’s not very nice.”

“Now, now, Floyd. One mustn’t interrupt a reader when they’re indulging in such a riveting story.”

“Shh,” Yuu muttered, their brow furrowed as they hunched closer to the book. “I’m at the best part!”

Floyd frowned as he laid his head on his arms, the basilisk slumping against the table. “Man, this is lame,” he said. “You promised to come play basketball with me today!”

“Once I finish this part, we can go do whatever you want, okay, Floyd?”

Jade hummed in amusement as he said, “A rather daring proposition you just offered, Yuu.”

“We have to do a buncha reading for class anyway,” Floyd said with a bored expression. “And Crabby and Mackerel said you finished two other books already, so what’s the point of thi-”

“AAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!?!?” Yuu shrieked, leaping out of their chair as Jade and Floyd recoiled in shock. Before the twins could react, Yuu had ducked back into their chair and pressed the book even closer to their face than before.

“…lemmie see that,” Floyd said, leaning over the table to grab it.

“No, no! It’s fine, go do something else!” Yuu said all too quickly, sinking even lower and turning away from Floyd’s reaching claws. “I think I heard Riddle in the hallway.”

“Lemmie see it!”

“No! You can’t read it!” Yuu cried out, bolting away from the table holding the book tight to their chest.

“Get back here, Shrimpy!”

“Noooo!!”

“Oh my,” Jade uttered, eyes wide for a moment before he chuckled. “Perhaps I should look into this book when they’ve finished it.”

/The next day/

“Oh no…oooh noooooo, I hate this so much!”

“Then why are you reading it?” Jamil asked, the naga curled around them. “If you don’t like it, just take it back to the library.”

“I can’t! It’s soooooo good!” Yuu said, practically throwing themselves backwards onto Jamil’s snake half with the book pressed against their face.

“Eh? But wait, you just said you hated it,” Kalim said in confusion.

“I hate it, but I love it so much,” Yuu told them with a whine, their head now touching the floor on the other side of Jamil’s snake body yet still draped over him like a cat. “This book will ruin your heart and shatter your soul into a million pieces!...you should read it too!”

“Given how dramatic you’re being, it might not be wise,” Jamil said with a sigh.

“Read it!”

“It’s okay, Yuu. We can read together! It’ll be more fun that way!”

“Kalim, no. You still need to study for the next potions exam.”

“Augh, I need someone to talk about this story with so we can lament in solidarity!”

“…have you been taking lessons from Rook lately?”

/Three days later/

“Um…is Yuu okay? They’re looking a little…tense.”

It had been several days since Yuu borrowed a stack of books, and already they had gone through nearly half of their hoard. Between classes and on breaks or after finishing tests, it wasn’t hard for students to notice the lone human with their nose between the pages of one book after the other. Even the researchers had taken note of Yuu’s behavior in between tests, making note of their expressions and how their body changes with each scene depicting their emotions. It was noteworthy how they reacted when a character in the story did something “cringeworthy and stupid” (as Yuu would explain when asked), it looked as though the human had swallowed a lemon.

At the moment they were sitting in Heartslabyul, yet another book in their arms as they sat on one side of the lounge. Cater had taken progression snapshots of Yuu’s body slowly curling into itself, eyes steadily growing wider and wider to the point it looked as though they’d bolt away in panic.

“They’re fine,” Grim told Trey as he munched on a snack. “They’ve been like this since they got all those books. That’s the pose they had last time when their Ohteevee smooched or somethin’.”

“Oh, you mean ‘OTP’, Grimmy,” Cater corrected with a smile. “That’s so cute! Our human has an OTP already~!”

“I’ve heard of hitting the books, but this is ridiculous,” Ace commented with a sigh. “They’ve been reading so long that I forgot what half their face looks li-”

“GRAAAAH!!!!”

SLAM! Fwump!!

“Gyah!?” the boys yelped, everyone staring at Yuu as they sat on the couch with a dark scowl.

“Yo, what the heck? Why’d you throw the book like that?” Ace asked, pointing at the large tome on the other side of the couch now.

“Um…Yuu?” Deuce began when they didn’t respond. “Are…you okay?”

“……I’m mad,” came the response, Yuu’s expression growing more annoyed as they stared off into space.

“About what?” Riddle asked in surprise.

Yuu’s gaze turned to the discarded book, their expression as though they had been betrayed by a trusted friend as they said, “Because my favorite character died, and I refuse to read how the book ends when there’s literally two freaking pages left! That’s not enough space to bring them back in a satisfying way!!”

“Y…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “That big of a reaction just because a fictional character was killed off?”

“You weren’t there to see the struggles they went through! I saw them change from an annoying bully into a fully developed and vulnerable character who wanted to take charge of their life—and the author killed them off!” Jumping to their feet, Yuu marched towards Ace and Deuce’s room where they’d left their stuff and said, “Where’s my notebook? I need to fix this!”

“What are you gonna do?” Grim called out.

“Write a fanfic, because my scrunkly deserves to be happy!”

“Huh? Scrunkly??”

/Final day/

“Oh, Great Seven…what happened in your book this time?” Vil asked with a sigh.

Yuu sniffled as they tried to dry their tears, though it was difficult as more continued to flow down their cheeks. “I…I just finished my last book,” they said, their voice cracking a little with emotion as Grim pat their arm reassuringly.

“All ten books in a week?” Vil said in surprise. “That’s…impressive. Even so, why are you so upset? Was the story that horrible?”

“No…it…it…it was too good!” Yuu cried out, clutching the book so tight that their knuckles turned white as the tears flowed freely now.

“Ah…such pure, raw human emotion,” Rook crooned. “To express it so freely without fear…beaute!”

“Was the book really that good?” Epel asked.

“Yes!” Yuu wailed. “Now that it’s over, I…I don’t know what to do with myself now…”

Peering at the title, Vil gave a thoughtful hum and said, “Oh, that story. I hear there is supposed to be a spin-off book series. The first one should have released just the other day.”

“Really?!”

“Mrrr…now you’ve done it,” Grim grumbled with a sigh. “Here we go again.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #jamil viper #kalim al asim #jade leech #floyd leech #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #i had a lot of fun with this once i figured out where to go with it!

[arminsfavoritepookie]

“Devil” - Heavy angst - aot season 4 events - eren x reader

Eren was a man with a soul deeply sickened by the pains of life - a malaise that ran rampant through his every fiber. His eyes gazed upon the world with contempt, plagued by a chronic sense of disgust at the limits that chained him down.

The question you asked him reverberated within the recesses of his mind. Would he discard his morals and the essence of what makes him human—his humanity, and transform into the very devil that the world so readily labels him as? To Eren, it was a question that held little weight, as his unwavering response had been a resounding "yes" from the very instant he was born.

Despite all the ruin he had left in his wake, people looked at him with hope and desperate admiration. But to Eren, they were blind to the monster he truly was, so oblivious to the iniquities he had wrought that they saw only a husk of a man, the shell of his former self. The idea of their ignorant perception tormented him incessantly, leaving his stomach churning with dread and his forehead slick with perspiration. He just wanted to hold you close, to be with you in every way possible - to savor the bliss that you shared - it was a thought that would propel his soul to unimaginable heights.

But Eren was all too aware that such actions were a forbidden dream, an unattainable goal in light of the irreversible harm he had inflicted upon you and countless others. And yet, Eren loved you with a force beyond measure. He yearned to see you soar with wings unencumbered, unfettered by the chains of fear and despair that so many others lived in. But he could never be the one to give that to you, for the price he had to pay for the pain he had inflicted upon you and others was too great to even contemplate.

Eren could not erase the vision of the devastation he had left in his wake. He could see it every time he closed his eyes, hear the anguished cries of the families he had torn apart and feel the shattered dreams of the people he had harmed. His remorse was all-encompassing, his pain and self-loathing an unbreakable burden he had to bear every single day.

So, when you came to him begging and imploring with all your might, your tears like a cascading rain upon his skin, Eren recoiled and withdrew from you, consumed by his own sense of revulsion. He stood there cold and aloof, distant and disconnected, his eyes locked upon the horizon as if the very thought of your touch would tear him asunder. The space between you grew more and more distance with each passing moment, as if time itself was a hulking, writhing mass threatening to devour the both of you whole. It was a love that would never die, a fire that would never extinguish.

And though Eren may be sick, and broken, and monstrous in the eyes of the world, he would always be Eren to you. Just Eren, the man you loved with all your heart, the man who could break you into a million tiny pieces with just a single glance. Eren's gaze remains fixed, unbroken, on his sole source of inspiration. You are the embodiment of every reason he fights, of every goal he's ever chased. Through the countless trials and tribulations he's faced, your radiant image has never ceased to serve as a beacon of hope.

And yet, for all his relentless efforts in your name, Eren has inadvertently caused the rift between himself and his comrades to grow wider. Even you, his greatest love, have found yourself broken because of him. His victories have been bittersweet, his losses unbearable. Each passing moment takes its toll on his spirit and sanity, yet his unwavering commitment to your cause persists. Eren remains steadfast in his focus, even amidst the deafening cacophony of screams and destruction.

Though death surrounds him at every turn, he refuses to succumb to the chaos. Instead, he chooses to close his eyes and immerse himself in a vivid mental picture of you: your vivacious laughter, the twinkling of your eyes, the curly texture of your hair. Through all the mayhem, he continues to cling to this image of you. It fuels him, sustains him, imbues him with the strength to carry on through the thick of the fray.

He sees now, in this final moment, that all he's done, all he's sacrificed, has been entirely worth it - for you. Your essence has served as a source of empowerment in the bleakest of times. The blood raging around him can't dissuade Eren from his purpose. His dedication remains unswerving, undeterred by any opposition.

Though he has inflicted suffering upon those around him, he does not falter, for his ultimate loyalty remains steadfastly to his home.

To paradise.

The atmosphere vibrates with intensity as Eren takes a deep breath. He readies himself for the last confrontation with the forces that threaten everything he's held dear. But no matter the outcome, he remains convinced that every step he's taken in his journey has been worth it, every single moment for the love of you. You.

He descends into a dark abyss, where the whispers of the devil beckon to him, and the light of humanity fades into nothingness.

a lone warrior against a sea of monsters, his conviction unwavering, his spirit unbreakable. For better or for worse, he was a man consumed by his fury - and it wasn’t the Titans that would soon know the full extent of his wrath.

It was the world.

All in the pursuit of becoming the very devil that the the walls outside claims him to be.

#aot fanfiction #aot x you #aot angst #aot x reader #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren fluff #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren drabble #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren yaeger aot #eren headcanons #aot x black reader #eren x black reader fluff #eren yaeger x reader #attack on titan eren

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

DADDY ISSUES - Part Two: Guys My Age

Character/Fandom: Elvis - ELVIS (2022)

Prompt: When Steve and Jerry ask you to try and convince EP to make a statement after Bobby Kennedy's death, you're not sure you're the right person for the job. But life has other plans. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Some mentions of death, but other than that nothing!

Rating: Pg-13   ||     Word Count: 4197

A/N: I wanna take a quick moment to sincerely thank @fangirl-imagines with all of my heart bc this fic would NOT EXIST without her. seriously kenz you have my undying gratitude and love for helping me outline + inspiring me with your gorgeous moodboards 💖

also, i know i promised y'all smut but i hope you'll accept a bit of a slow burn instead jsjsjs

FINALLY, thank you to my bewbies for helping me + this one is for all the polk salad annies out there ❤️‍🔥

Song Rec: guys my age - hey violet

This is Part 2 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

As you hurriedly follow Steve into a small room, you hear nothing but silence and the very quiet sound of the television in the background. The square space is stuffed with about as many people as it could possibly hold, all from the show, as they gather in a circle to huddle around the tv. Steve pushes his way to the front and leans so close to the tv that you wonder if he’ll get sucked into the screen.

You hover at the back of the room, placing a hand over your mouth to still your quivering lips. The voice of a reporter is explaining what’s happened, how Bobby Kennedy got shot and what will happen next. It’s like watching a sports game, except the play-by-play is explaining how someone is dying right in front of your eyes and the eyes of a million Americans alongside you. Your wide eyes track the tiny screen as it flashes with doctors, police officers, and people from the street trying to figure out what to do with themselves.

“We’re ready on set,” one of the crew members shouts from behind you. You glance over your shoulder with an irritated expression, but your attention is jerked back to the front of the room when you hear the sound of a familiar southern drawl.

“Oh my god,” Elvis mutters, and you suck in a nervous breath. You hadn’t even realized he was in the room with everyone else. Your whole body grows stiff, and you begin to feel sweat gathering on your palms.

“Steve, we gotta get back to work,” the crew member repeats, and your eyes readjust to land on your cousin.

“Work…” Steve breathes out quietly. “Listen I, uh, I just wanna say that this nation is hurting. It’s lost, you know, it needs a voice right now to help it. We have to say something. You have to make a statement, EP.”

“Mr. Presley does not make statements.”

You whirl around to see the fat manager from earlier bounding into the room.

“He sings here Here Comes Santa Claus and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas and good night,” the manager says harshly. He jerks the knob on the tv and it flashes to a black screen.

“Now, we will take the rest of the day off but everyone will be back here tomorrow morning and ready to make it snow,” he says gruffly.

After a moment of awkward silence, the room begins to stir. Crew and cast members alike begin to file out of the room, some of them murmuring while others just express a chorus of sighs. You stand to the side and let people leave, waiting for Steve. You know what a big admirer of Bobby Kennedy’s he is, and you share that sentiment. Even though you might not be the closest of cousins, you still want to be there to support Steve. Not just as a family member but as a friend, as well.

You awkwardly cross your arms across your chest as you watch Steve move slowly past Elvis. Your cousin lays his hand on the singer’s shoulder for a quick moment, and Elvis’ wife, Priscilla, stands. You’re taken aback by how beautiful she is in person, with a perfect figure and a gorgeous face. She hugs Steve tightly before dropping her face into a hand. She offers a small curt smile as she passes you, bringing a chilled air of sweet perfume with her. You return the expression, although you can see the tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

Finally, Steve approaches you with glistening eyes. You hold your arms out for him to walk into and squeeze him tightly, biting your lip to keep your own tears at bay. You’re used to this by now, after so many years on your own, being the strong one. Being the one who never cries. The shoulder that everyone else cries onto.

From behind Steve’s back, you make eye contact with the rotund manager who gives you a flick of his hand, signaling that he wants you to leave the room. You sigh deeply and rub Steve’s back as you glance over to another man, the same one you’d seen Elvis speaking with after the show. He glances between you and Elvis and then approaches you.

“Let’s leave Mr. Presley and the Colonel alone,” the man says quietly.

You nod, gently steering Steve toward the door as he presses his fingers into his eyes to dry the tears. You quietly shut the door behind you and guide your cousin to a pair of chairs in the hallway. He crashes down onto the seat without much control, and you sit alongside him to take his hand. The other man stands above you, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry,” you say quietly. “I know how much Bobby Kennedy meant to you. I understand how much this must hurt. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Steve sniffs hard, wiping tears from his cheeks. He shakes his head.

“No but thanks anyway,” he says just as quietly. Silence settles. After a few moments, Steve glances up at the other man, and they share an expression you can’t decipher.

“Actually…no, nevermind.”

“What? Let me help, please. You’re my cousin. It’s part of my familial duty.”

You offer a small smile as your eyes flick between the two men. You hope your joke will help soften the blow of the news and lighten the mood a tad. Plus, you feel awkward because you don’t understand the relationship between your cousin and this random man. But Steve offers you no indication that your joke had any effect.

“Well, like I said in there,” he responds, “I think EP really needs to make a statement. I mean the whole point of this show is to inspire people and get them talking about him again. With such a big platform as the one he has, I just feel that he should use it to advocate for what we need in the world right now. I think people might listen a little harder if it came from someone like him, you know?”

“Sure, absolutely,” you nod, agreeing wholeheartedly. “But what could I possibly do?”

“I wonder if you might go talk to him? Try to convince him? I know you don’t know each other, but maybe if it came from a fan he’d find it more convincing. He’d be more inspired if he felt like it was wanted. Needed.”

You heave out a deep breath as your heart begins to pound in your chest. You shake your head frantically.

“No, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I, uh…no…”

“I think he’ll take it more seriously if she’s the one to say it,” the man chimes in. You glance up at him in disbelief, offended that he would even speak up when you have literally no idea who he is.

“Why not?” Steve’s voice recaptures your attention. You’re starting to feel a little whiplash from the confusion of the conversation. “Listen, I know I’ve already used up my cousin’s familial duty favor by asking you to star front and center in the special even when you clearly didn’t want to. But this is bigger than us. This is the whole country we’re talking about, Y/N. Would you just consider it?”

“I…I guess, but I’d sort of like some answers first, if that’s reasonable?” you ask, glancing back over at the man. “Because, no offense or anything, but who are you? And how do you two know each other? And why me, specifically? You know, I was sitting next to a girl in the crowd who’s way prettier and a much bigger fan than I am.”

“I’m Jerry Schilling, Elvis’ producer,” the man replies automatically. You nod. Makes sense. “And the reason we’ve chosen you…well, do you want to tell her, Steve, or should I?”

“Tell me what?” you ask and a tense silence grows between all three of you. Your head jerks from one man to the other like you’re watching a tennis match. In actuality, you feel more like the ball itself, being smashed back and forth between opposing players, than a spectator.

“After the show,” Steve starts and then pauses, glancing up at Jerry as if he’s asking permission to continue. You throw up a hand, gesturing for him to explain. “After the show, Elvis asked Jerry if he could track you down. He…he wants to meet you.”

Within a matter of seconds, you officially reach a point beyond any form of physically expressable anxiety. While your heart would normally be thudding against your chest, it now feels like it’s stopped. Actually stopped beating completely. You can’t bring yourself to do anything other than stare at the cringing expression plastered on Steve’s face. You slowly and deeply breathe in.

“What?!” you shout, louder than you mean to. “I…I-I…I…”

Those are pretty much the only words you can choke out, too shocked to even comprehend fully what’s happening. No version of you in any universe could ever have predicted the events of this day.

“Listen, I know this is a lot, but we can tell you exactly what to say,” Steve jumps in.

“I can give you some insider’s advice on how to convince him. I know what he likes, what he responds to,” Jerry adds.

There goes your head again, snapping back and forth like the tennis ball. Steve takes a gentle grasp on your hands.

“Please do this. I promise, no I swear, that it’ll be the last favor I ever ask you to do for me,” Steve pleads.

You heave a sigh and shake your head. There is no way you could do this. Unless…

“Alright, boys,” you start, holding a finger up to each of them, “since doing that little favor for you earlier got me fired from my job at Chadneys, as of now, I am unemployed and broke. I will do this for you if I get paid for it. In money. Real money.”

“That can be arranged,” Jerry responds immediately, much too quickly for your liking. Knowing nothing about show business, you let it go. It seems to make sense that money is the way to get what you want in the business.

“Alright fine. So, what am I supposed to say, exactly?” you ask, shifting uncomfortably on the chair.

You try to take mental notes once again as Steve and Jerry go through advice with you, telling you what points to make and how to phrase certain things to grab his attention and get him to listen to you. By the end of the conversation, your brain is so fuzzy and stuffed full of words that you’re pretty sure the whole conversation was a waste of time anyway.

“Great, thanks. Do I go now, or…?”

“Wait until the Colonel leaves and go right after,” Jerry replies. “It’s probably best if the Colonel doesn’t see you at all, actually. He’ll want Elvis to be isolated after their conversation. It’s sort of a manipulation technique to make EP feel like he’s alone. But that also gives you the perfect time to slip in. Remember, the most important thing you can do is follow his directions. Oh, and tell him Jerry said satnin knows.”

“Okay, whatever,” you reply. “Well, wish me luck, I guess.”

You turn on your heel, ready to go stakeout Elvis’ dressing room, but Steve’s hand catches your wrist. You glance over your shoulder as he takes a step closer and speaks in a low voice.

“Be careful in there, okay?”

You snort. 

“Okay, Steve. He may be a rockstar, but he’s harmless. What’s he gonna do, sing me to death?”

“I’m serious,” Steve replies, and you can tell by his expression that he is, indeed, very serious. “He’s been known to be a little…unfaithful. Just don’t get into a bad situation with him, please.”

“I won’t, Steve, I promise,” you reply shaking your head. You don’t sleep with married men.

With half of the lights turned off for the night, the hallway is darkened as you slink up next to the wall. You hear voices coming from the dressing room and step very slowly and quietly toward the square of light shining onto the floor.

“Poor Mrs. Kennedy,” the Colonel’s voice sounds, and you freeze before pressing yourself back against the shadows. “It is a tragedy, but it has nothing to do with us.”

You carefully peek around the corner, being as subtle as you possibly can. Your fingers curl around the side of the doorframe as you peer into the room to spy.

“It has everything to do with us,” Elvis says.

You watch silently as he wanders into the room from his closet. Your eyes immediately notice the fact that he’s only in a robe, and your eyebrows raise as you sneak a glance at his open chest. You don’t mean to, but your brain concocts a very thorough image of what he must look like underneath the dark red silk fabric.

“I just do not think that we should be making speeches about politics and religion,” the Colonel responds, sounding irritated.

“Dr. King was shot eight miles from Graceland while I was out here singing to turtles,” Elvis responds, picking up the metal dome from a food tray and popping a piece of food into his mouth. “And now this. And all you can think about is how many goddamn sweaters I can sell.”

“I am the promoter. That is what I do.”

“And I’m Elvis Presley. That’s what I do.”

You jump further back into the shadows as Elvis slams down a glass bottle of Pepsi. His force is so strong that the liquid splashes up from the neck of the bottle and onto the mirror he’s staring back at the Colonel through.

“Mr. Bindle has really gotten inside your head with all of his hippie friends. You really think that singing your old songs dressed in black leather, sweating, mumbling incoherently to the audience is a good show?”

“Colonel, I know when I’ve excited an audience.”

You can’t help but bite your lip through a smile as you think about the few times you’ve been able to experience his ability to excite an audience. He definitely has a gift for exciting something.

“That was not a real audience, my boy. There was a sign flashing applaud, telling them when to clap for you. This entire jamboree is an embarrassment. You have embarrassed the sponsors, you have embarrassed yourself, you have embarrassed me. You can sing whatever songs you and Mr. Bindle choose for 55 minutes, but at the end of the show, there will be a Christmas song. Or else we will be sued….no,” the Colonel snaps harshly. “No, you will be sued. Because I will no longer be the promoter of your career. I will have to leave you.”

The Colonel is standing so incredibly close to Elvis now, staring up into his eyes. But Elvis is giving the same energy back, staring down at the penguin-shaped man in front of him with uncaring eyes. He hums his response in such a low tone that you barely even hear it at all.

“Mm….mhm.”

A moment of tension passes as Elvis stares down the Colonel, clicks his tongue, and grabs his Pepsi before turning around to go back to watching tv.

“Now I have convinced our friends at Singer Sewing Machines to come back tomorrow for Here Comes Santa Claus,” he says, beginning to slowly make his way toward you, leaning heavily onto his cane. “I will see you in the morning.”

Your heart begins to pound, realizing that he’s going to see you if he passes through the door. You frantically shuffle backward, running into a bucket and mop behind you in the process. Both objects crash to the floor with a metallic banging noise, and you wince hard as soapy water begins to flood out all over the floor. As you glance up like a deer in headlights with the broom laying in your fingers, you make eye contact with the Colonel. You freeze, not knowing what to do with yourself. He just quirks an eyebrow and then leans back into the room.

“Oh, and as I recall, Dr. King said rock’n’roll music contributed to juvenile delinquency.”

And with that, he stalks out of the room. He briefly pauses by you, on your knees on the floor attempting to gather up as much of the spill as you can with a towel you’d found tied around the handle of the mop.

“Clean this up,” he says dryly as he passes.

You just watch him go, waiting until you’re sure he can’t see to hold up your middle finger as he waddles around the corner. When you swivel your head around to face front again, your breath catches as you gaze up directly into the eyes of Elvis Presley, himself. He’s leaning against the door frame, one arm supporting his weight against the wood. You can barely see him in the shadows of the hallway, but there’s just enough light for you to notice his eyebrow quirked up. You clear your throat and stand, glancing quickly down at your knees to see two round circles of stained fabric by your kneecaps, accented with tiny little soap bubbles. Well, that’s humiliating. He just stares at you, waiting for you to probably explain who you are and why you’re on your hands and knees outside of his dressing room.

“Jerry said uh…that satnin knows?” you blurt out, unable to tear your eyes away from his face, his open chest, his disheveled hair.

You hope you’ve said it right, whatever it means. And you must have because the realization visibly washes over his face almost immediately. He nods, gesturing for you to come into the room. You follow him inside, nervously wringing out your fingers, and stop awkwardly in the doorway with a gulp.

“How are you doing, Mr. Presley?” you ask, starting the conversation out slowly like Jerry had advised. Elvis glances up at you.

“You got soap and water on ya dress, sugar,” he says, gesturing toward your knees.

You just glance down at your work uniform, feeling incredibly embarrassed. You don’t know how to respond, so you just stay quiet. Your mind is blank. You have forgotten what Jerry and Steve told you. Everything, all of it. Gone.

“Yeah, I had a bit of an accident in the hall,” you finally reply with an awkward laugh.

You wince, gripping onto the hem of your uniform. Oh! That was something Jerry had said. Refocus the conversation. But he speaks again before you have a chance to say anything else.

“Ya gonna have to buy a new dress, now,” he says, his eyes slowly tracking up and down your figure. You shrug into yourself, wanting to cover your body up as much as possible. You feel scrutinized by his eyes. Like he’s sizing you up the way he’d size up a car or a suit.

“Yeah,” you mutter quietly. “If I can afford it…”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Oh, I…um…just lost my job today. When I left work to come be in the audience, I got fired, actually. So, I’m sort of broke right now. Everything’s gonna be fine, though. You know, I’ll get another job. I always have in the past.”

He hums quietly, the same way he had when speaking with the Colonel. Again, you catch his eyes dragging down your body, hanging on every piece of skin, as he runs his tongue over his top lip.

“Maybe we could come to some kinda arrangement,” Elvis says, leaning against the table below the mirror and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes drop down to the tanned skin immediately, desperately latching onto the tufts of dark hair on his chest.

“What…do you mean?” you ask, shaking your head.

“Jus that I could help ya pay your bills and replace that dress. For a price, uh course,” he responds in a voice like velvet, impossibly deep and soft. So smooth that it feels warm when it enters your ears.

You’ve heard of things like this. These kind of arrangements. He raises his hand to his chin, dragging his finger over his lips. Your eyes lock onto his plump, pink lips. They fit him so perfectly and they look delicious. You feel your heart thump in an unsettling mixture of fear and excitement. The hair on your arms starts to stand up and a shiver ricochets through your spine.

“What is the price…exactly?”

He doesn’t reply, but you can’t ignore the left side of his mouth as it curls up into a sinister smirk. His black eyes — aren’t they supposed to be blue? — are trained on yours, refusing to let up. Your heart is slamming so fast in your chest that you can hear its pounding clouding your eardrums. Elvis pushes himself to stand and reaches for the bottle of Pepsi, still resting on top of the table.

“Ya know…at one of my concerts back in, oh it woulda been bout 1956 I think, I remember this lil girl there. She was jus beautiful and she was standin in the front row,” he says, sticking his finger out to point as if he could see this girl standing right in front of him now. He drops his head down as a quiet laugh gently wracks his shoulders and then turns with his back facing you.

“I won’t never forget her cause jus after I wrapped my fingers round her jaw…” he flexes his long slender fingers, curling them the same way he had when they’d wrapped around your face so many years ago. Your fingers tingle as they consider reaching up to touch the skin on your jaw, desperate for that feeling just one more time. “She slid these onto the stage.”

Your eyes travel from the side of his face all the way down his nose and lips and onto his shoulder, traveling along his arm toward his outstretched finger. And hanging off the edge of his pointer finger, dangling dangerously, is a pair of deep red lace panties.

Suddenly, you’re thrown back to the summer of 1956. It’s like it was yesterday, the sounds of the crowd screaming, the buzz of the bass and guitars that vibrated through the stage and into your fingers. You must have buried that memory. Of what you’d done. You feel heat rise to your cheeks in that moment as you think about what your parents would have said if they’d known. For god’s sake, you were only 16 at the time…but you’d been so overtaken with desire and passion that you’d slid your panties onto the stage as he held your face hostage. The crushing weight of the memory settles in your chest. Yes, you remember now, watching him snatch them up. Despite the fact that so many other girls had tossed their panties up there, in a wide array of colors and patterns, he’d taken yours. He’d held them up to his eyes, looked right at you, and then tucked them into his pocket with the same smirk pasted on his face right now.

But now you can’t ignore it, pretend like you hadn’t done it. The evidence is right there in front of you. You’d remember those panties anywhere, they used to be your favorite. You would never have thought, never dreamed that he would have kept them.

Your heart is pulsing a thousand beats per minute, slamming against your chest like a hammer on a nail. You gulp hard, swallowing dry air. He steps toward you with his long legs, running his fingers agonizingly along the fabric of the lace panties. Your eyes track his every movement, somehow all at once. You take in everything. The way his fingers move, the way the robe flaps open on his chest, the way you figure he’s not wearing anything underneath. Within a matter of seconds, he’s right in front of you, staring down at you, so close that you can smell him. Like sweat and something spicy, musky, warm. So close that you could touch him, and your fingers ache to feel the warmth of his skin. You start to notice the tightness building in your heat, the swollen tenderness, the need. You avoid eye contact at all costs, but you can’t resist when his finger curls under your chin, tilting your head up to his.

“You know, darlin, I been lookin for my Cinderella for a long time,” his eyes flick up and capture yours. You stare back at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights for the second time that night. A prisoner under his gaze.

“I…” you say quietly, trailing off when you don’t know how to proceed.

“So how bout it, Y/N,” he hums, rubbing your chin with his thumb. His eyes bear into yours, clouded with desperation. His fingers squeeze the bones of your jaw. “Do the shoes, or should I say panties, fit?”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

taglist: @mrsjna @floralcyanide @austinbutler17 @slutforsomegoodlettuce @cb97slut @datsavageavenger @misspygmypie @yourfriendhenrywinter @queenslandlover-93 @kittenlittle24 @slutforblueeyes @theliterarybeldam @guns-n-queen @x-earthangel @adoreyouusugar @butler-trouble @kaycinema @mamaspresley @dontbesussis @littledanette @yagirlalexx @hangmanswhore @dark-as-love @adoreyouusugar @gemstone9 @austin-butlers-gf @dollfaceyourfear @dances-and-dolly-dresses @coldonexx

#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #milasthings #milaselviscontent #milasfics #milaselvisfics #elvis fics #elvis imagines #daddy issues

[haywire-hetfield]

😁🌷🦗🟥

sorry for sending so many feel free to ignore if youve answered them already or just dont want to answer them 💘

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask Game Part II

No need to worry about how many emojis you sent, anon! I genuinely never mind <3 I appreciate the asks.

😁What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Oooh, this is down between asks and comments. I absolutely love receiving both, but I'll probably say I get more excited about asks just because I feel like there's usually more room for conversation when people send in asks.

🌷What's one of your fics that isn't as popular, but you hold dear?

My Dave/Izzy fic, for sure. I knew that fic wasn't going to be extremely popular going in since it's more of a rarepair, but I love it. I hold it very close to my heart.

In general, all my Nikki/Tommy fics don't get too much attention, but they're some of my favorites to write.

🦗Do you write in sequence or jump around?

I definitely jump around. You'll see my writing page and I've got four different scenes all spaced out and half-written on there. I find it easier for myself to write whatever scene I have motivation for whenever I have motivation to do it. Otherwise, I often just don't write anything and that scene escapes me.

Like the cucking fic I'm writing right now, I jotted down a million different ideas of what I wanted included in there. And I've started like three separate scenes and I just add new things whenever I feel inspired to.

Sometimes, it's difficult to write in the gaps, though. I also find myself having to reread my work more because I have to make sure all the actions align correctly. (For instance, I can't have a character's hands holding someone's hips randomly if they had them in their hair in the previous paragraph.)

🟥How long do you spend in edits?

I think I've mentioned this before, but I actually don't edit my fics most the time. I may reread or rewrite what I've already gotten if it's a fic that's taken me a while to complete just because I usually would write things differently. But I haven't ever sat down and edited the fic, I usually just publish it.

If I notice things like spelling or typing errors when I reread my fics later, I'll go ahead and edit them out, but that's about the extent of it.

#asks

[dk-thrive]

Live your way into the answer. If you hold a question, if you’re faithful, the question will be faithful back to you.

So what’s a new possibility you’re inspired by? I love your questions. You’re pushing in the really important way. Here’s what I think of: I see the disarray. I see the broken power structures. I see the damage and the pain. I also see people tending to that. At the heart of some of these national-level or community-level conflicts, there is space to move below the radar and start stitching together relationships and quiet conversations at a very human, granular level. We're going to work on quiet conversations that will not be publicized. That feels to me like a power move in this world...

A lot of people worry about finding their calling. Do you have any advice for them? I’m very aware that in this culture, in the 20th-century world, we’ve diminished the idea of a calling to mean your job title. I think there are many callings in a life. I want people to liberate the idea of their calling from what they’re being paid to do for a living. Your calling may be something that you do that gives you joy but that you’re never going to get paid for. It may be certain relationships that you’re holding that are primary. Being a parent or being a child, being a friend, being a neighbor, the service you do in your community. It can be how you show up through your day, how you treat strangers. You can play an instrument. You can write. It’s the things that amplify your best humanity.I don’t think I have to define that, because we all intuitively know what it is. I talk so much on this show about Rilke —

I know where you’re going: “Living the questions.” Yes! The notion of living the questions in a world that is in love with answers. I’ve been reading Rilke since I was in Berlin almost 40 years ago, what I feel coming back to our world is this idea that to do justice to a question means that you cannot rush to an answer. What you’re called to do is hold the question itself, dwell with the question respectfully, and love the question. Live your way into the answer. If you hold a question, if you’re faithful, the question will be faithful back to you.

OK, what was the last thing that blew your mind? For me the last two years have been one seismic event after the other. That experience of the ground shaking beneath our feet and that happening to every person on the planet — that is what all of our spiritual traditions tell us is the reality at any given moment, and it’s what our culture gives us a million devices to deny. But there it was: We are fragile. Civilization rests on something as tender as bodies breathing in proximity to other bodies. We were reminded of that. And living in Minneapolis when George Floyd was killed. The West Coast caught fire. Our political fragmentation that we’ve been walking into for such a long time. We have a war in Europe. We pretended like capitalism triumphing would lead to a moral universe. It just goes on and on. It’s all before-and-after now.

— David Marchese, excerpts of a interview with Krista Tippett in "Krista Tippett Wants You to See All the Hidden Signs of Hope" (NY Times Magazine, July 7, 2022)

#David Marchese #Krista Tippett #hope #politics #conversation #purpose #meaning #Rainer Maria Rilke

[letters4amira]

06th March, 2023 ; our second eclipse

But over time, you showed me the true beauty and power of love. In a million subtle and not so subtle ways, you let me know that love doesn’t have to be confined to grand gestures. Rather, it can manifest itself through everyday acts of kindness, compassion and affection.

My love,

When I first met you, I had no idea what true love felt like. All I had were half-baked notions of what it should look like from movies, books and other people’s relationships. I was unsure of whether this intense emotion was something I was capable of.

I learnt that love means cherishing every single moment we spent together, both big and small. It’s a commitment to accept and support each other through all the highs and lows that life throws our way. That it’s not a superficial emotion but one rooted in trust, honesty and a mutual understanding of our relationship.

I long for you.

I am lost in longing as I think of how it feels to be in your embrace. With every caress of your hands I feel the warmth spreading through my body, bringing with it an intensity that fills me with desire.

I am yearning for your touch, craving it more and more with every second that passes. The thought of having you explore my body is electrifying, sending tingles down my spine as I imagine how it will feel. Your touch alone has the power to set my legs trembling, an uncontrollable force taking hold as pleasure courses through my veins.

I ache for you to show me the heights of pleasure that I have yet to experience. To fill me with a love and longing that I have been searching for. You have become a part of my heart and soul, a craving I cannot control and no longer try to resist. All I can think of is having you closer, closer to me. I want you and all the things you can make me feel.

I think of you.

In those short, seemingly insignificant moments between each second of my life, my thoughts naturally drift to you. Those moments are fleeting, but to me they represent a bond that’s stronger than I ever could have imagined. Even when we’re not together, your spirit lives in the spaces between seconds of my life, comforting me and inspiring me to be better.

Every time I am counting down to the start of a new day, the finish of a long project, or even the beat of a favorite song, I am reminded of you. In those times when my mind races ahead, sometimes to doubt, sometimes to anxiety, it is you that brings me back to the present. Even in the hard times, your presence gives me peace, providing the assurance that I can always be brave enough to push through.

No one else fills these spaces the way that you do. You may not even realize it, but it is in these silent moments between seconds when my love for you is most strong. Although it’s true that words fail to accurately convey the importance of this bond, my heart is brimming with admiration, gratitude and awe that someone like you could ever exist in my life.

I love you no matter what.

Even though we've had our share of fights and misunderstandings, it has only brought us closer together. Despite our moments of tension, I always manage to find a way to stay connected with you. Our arguments are proof that we are not perfect and we both make mistakes. Despite these shortcomings, I love you and your flaws unconditionally.

At times, I may feel frustrated and let out my anger, but deep down I still have the utmost respect for you. Through the struggles, I have come to understand and appreciate you for who you are and for that I'm thankful. No matter what we go through, I will always have a deep love and respect for you.

I have realized that I have become more open-minded and understanding as a result of our misunderstandings. We've had to compromise and see each other's perspectives. In our discussions, I have come to better appreciate what's important to you, and you have been understanding of my needs as well.

My love for you has never wavered, even when the conflict between us arose. Our willingness to continue the fight to love each other and keep working at our relationship has been worth it. It's something I will cherish for the rest of my life. I love you beyond our fights and misunderstandings.

It has been 2 years already, my love. My love for you remained constant as the sky above.

Happy anniversary baby! I hope to spend my lifetime with you. I love you so much wifey <3

My heart will always belong to you.

always,

mtcd

[sasorikigai]

"Didya think I forgot yer birthday? I would never, sugar." Another year, another birthday. The singer is still mystified she's known Hanzo for as long as she has now and how close they've grown in that time. No matter how much she knows the commander, his sweet tooth (if you could call it that...) could never be identical to her own and once again she had to become creative with the dessert of choice for the birthday. Red wine poached pears are not an easy recipe to create and having secretly figure out how to perfect the dessert for her darling commander, Olivia hopes the end result is satisfactory for him.

At the dinner table is the poaches pears, served with a small scoop of mascarpone cheese, along with two boxes near the dish. Inside one box is a brand new dress tie, for work or leisure, and the other box contains a pair of genuine leather black gloves for the winter season. Hanzo, the ever frugal and careful man, was in need of a new pair of leather gloves, the singer concluded after noticing he had worn the same pair since they had known each other.

"I know the gifts are cliché an' not as extravagant as say a new watch as I've previously given but... I know they'll be useful for ya." Lips curl up into a sheepish grin, hoping the commander's birthday isn't disappointing with her modest gifts. "Happy birthday, Hanzo." [For modern verse of Hanzo and Liv <3]

Hanzo's Birthday Shenanigans || @somniaxperdita || always accepting!

💥 || Receiving love and warmth in his low phases is like a getting a life jacket that finally fits his soul and spirit. It is the inextinguishable, sempiternal fuel that keeps him going in unpredictable moments his energy is running on empty. Their connections with capacity to hold this space for him that should never be taken for granted become abundant; for love for Hanzo Hasashi, had been nothing, but a obsession with undertones of melancholic sorrow and depression. 

Embossed to his bones and soul is this non-alleviated grief, and he is the miner protecting his head from the crush of two thousand pounds of ore. He could only hear distorted, distant sound of anxious shouts for help, but dust settling on the intermittent silence of what was unfeeling to frantic hands clawing helplessly and aimlessly at rock, failing to ease the weight as his heart would gradually bust into a million little pieces. People may all have a song to sing, but for so long, had Hanzo hidden it behind his unyielding passion and stubbornness, hoping to help him keep his little piece of peace. 

If Commander Hasashi accumulated all the things he wishes he could have, he would have a mountain of things thrown away like piled-up dreams, what ifs, would’ves, should’ves. The perpetual weariness and his solemn intensity is like a warring machine, stirring up the mighty waves of steam, riding on his overwhelmed, over-whirring mind. How Hanzo remains struck by the love’s ardor; how it is like being carried to the stars themselves, born aloft in a cavalcade of disorientation, which could be both terrifying and awe-inspiring. 

And how his heart beats in thunderous acceleration, to set his being to cacophonous palpation. The mind reeling as if drunk, but barely conceivable by outside. His expression remains caught in a delighted, genuine smile, the concoction of such comforting, homey dessert - happens to be his favorite - waft through the entirety of their apartment, as his energy radiates electric and alive. “You are someone who looks at me and treats me with a deep reverence for my existence and I truly, genuinely appreciate that,” such unconstrained, passionate words emit with his characteristic smokiness, as his bright chestnut eyes examine the classic, practical gifts bestowed onto him. “Thank you for being the biggest part of my life, for you aren’t just a fallen dry leaf to my flower, but the water that nurtures it. You complete every part of me, and fulfill every dream of mine through your loving words and actions. I grow and through them as I continue to learn to live and with you.” 

Hanzo only knows he finds peace in Olivia Winter’s company, and in return, he can give nothing, except his heart. And that is what he will do, as anticipation bubbles up in his being; a fluttery feeling that is making each beat of his heart birth a million butterflies carrying those colorful dreams, blooming bouquet of flowers with starry faces singing to the avid joy of shining beauty, as he radiates this aura of happiness.  💥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion) #✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au) #✗ successions of binding music (olivia winter || somniaxperdita) #(this was so sweet of her!!) #somniaxperdita

[secondblooms]

xtraordinary lessons in leadership that we can all learn from Ted Lasso

If you, like millions of people, fell in love with the endearing and uplifting charm and warmth of Jason Sudeikis’ character Ted Lasso in the Apple TV hit comedy, Ted Lasso, you’ll know that so much of what made him successful despite all odds in almost impossible situations was the heart that he brought as a coach and a leader.

The show is a creative collaboration of both wit and wisdom that carries with it extraordinary lessons in leadership that we can all learn from.  

9 Ted Lasso gems   

1. Create a strong community

Strong teams learn and win together. It’s the people that matter, not the winning or losing, or as Ted himself said:

“For me, success is not about the wins and losses. It’s about helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the field.”

I often tell agents who fear prospecting not to look at their calls as win/lose scenarios. In other words, if they get the appointment, they win; if they don’t, they lose.

It’s not about the “get” – it’s about the give. It’s about building rapport and powerful relationships with other human beings. That’s hard to do when there’s a barrier of expectations, not always in your control between you and the other person. There’s an old (and maybe corny) but still true expression that the word TEAM stands for Together Each Accomplishes More. Create a community of human beings that care about one another – that work well together – and the wins will work themselves out. 

2. Use a ritual to create camaraderie and cement bonds

Great teams have a foundation of trust plus accountability. That doesn’t happen by accident. You have to create rituals, safe spaces, and opportunities that bring people together, forge friendships, and fuel trust. For example, in season one, Ted holds a “ceremony” where all the team members come together to perform a ritual based on an item that means a great deal to them.

It’s a pivotal moment that helps the players see they are more alike than they are different and helps them come together in a whole new way. You can do the same. Perhaps not with a bonfire in a locker room, but certainly with team-building company events, open-door management policies where people know they can be seen and heard, putting mentors and proteges together, and above all else – cultivating communication and a sense of caring.

“I think that if you care about someone and you got a little love in your heart, there ain’t nothing you can’t get through together.”

3. Foster an attitude of gratitude

 One of the things I really love about Ted is that he never fails to say, “I appreciate you.” While this small, but significant sentiment surprised people when he first showed up as a coach, it became an integral part of what brings his team and the organization together. Appreciation fuels appreciation. Gratitude unlocks more things to be grateful for. Show up every day with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, model it, and show appreciation. You’ll not only inspire others to do the same, but you’ll also generate “championship” results in your life and business.    

4. Believe so much in others’ potential that they believe in themselves

One of the things Ted does when he gets to the A.F.C. Richmond locker room is tape a big, yellow believe sign over the door. It was a tenant of his coaching philosophy and at the core of the faith, he had not just in the team but in the people that made up the team.

He knew that if he could help team members feel good about themselves, collaborate as a team, and truly care about one another, he could help them unlock not only their potential and confidence but that of every member of the team. Love this famous line:

“So I’ve been hearing this phrase y’all got over here that I ain’t too crazy about. ‘It’s the hope that kills you.’ Y’all know that? I disagree, you know? I think it’s the lack of hope that comes and gets you. See, I believe in hope. I believe in belief.”

Be the kind of leader that can help others let go of limiting mindsets and beliefs and let in their true potential. 

5. Own your mistakes, and don’t take yourself too seriously

There’s no doubt that Ted makes a LOT of mistakes, especially in the beginning. He’s got no idea about the game of “football,” and he’s the first to admit his failings and apologize (in his very Ted-like way). He wisely teaches his team, both through words and actions, to worry less about the mistakes made and more about the lessons and the opportunities for choice they provide.

“I can’t be wasting time wishing for a do-over on all that. ‘Cause, that ain’t how choices work… every choice is a chance.”

6. Don’t be afraid of challenges or getting uncomfortable

Challenges are more often than not the catalysts we need to create positive change, get out of comfort zones, and take our lives and businesses to the next level.

“Taking on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse. If you’re comfortable while you’re doing it, you’re probably doing it wrong.”  

If you are too “comfortable” in your saddle, it might be time to shake things up and change your skills, mindset, or both to get the best results possible. 

7. Embrace curiosity

One of my favorite lines from the show is:

“Guys have underestimated me my entire life. And for years, I never understood why. It used to really bother me. But then, one day, I was driving my little boy to school, and I saw this quote by Walt Whitman, and it was painted on the wall there. It said, ‘Be curious, not judgmental.’ I like that.” 

There’s power in curiosity. In being open to new ideas, new mindsets, new skills, and new ways of approaching problems and finding solutions. There’s also a lesson in there about not underestimating yourself just because others may do so. Don’t get stuck in the rut of always doing things the way things have always been. Embrace your curious side, question the status quo, and believe in your potential.

8. Details matter

One of the first things Ted’s new players and staff at A.F.C. Richmond learned is that he remembers and uses people’s names. Not just the bosses and the superstars – everyone. Everyone is part of the team. Everyone has hopes and goals and things that matter to them, and Ted takes time right from the start to find out what those are and help people see and feel their significance. Is it more work to take the extra steps and put in the extra work to know the details that make a difference to your team? Absolutely, but as Ted would tell you:

“Doing the right thing is never the wrong thing.” 

9. Be a goldfish

One of the most quintessential Ted lines in the show was this:

“You know what the happiest animal on Earth is? It’s a goldfish. Y’know why? It’s got a 10-second memory. Be a goldfish.”

What he means by this is that there is so much value in letting go of things you can’t change, mistakes, or missteps so that you can move forward faster. Don’t dwell on anything because nothing lasts, not the good or the bad. Take it all in stride and keep going and keep learning.  

Lastly, I want to help you embrace Ted’s mantra, “You say impossible, but all I hear is ‘I’m possible.’“ Because you are possible. You are essential. The world needs more of what you have to bring to the table. Your team needs inspiration to tackle change and challenge more than they probably ever have.  

Lead with kindness. Elevate your team’s experiences with empathy — and believe. Oh, and you’ll maybe want to catch up on seasons one and two of Ted Lasso because I think Season 3 is right around the corner, and I, for one, am here for it. I’d love to hear your favorite Lasso-isms and lessons. 

#submission

[lizzygrantarchives]

BBC News, January 27, 2012

Lana Del Rey has been praised, sued and vilified – all before her album hits the shelves. But the US star says she's more concerned by the global financial crisis than her critics.

Last year, with almost no fanfare, a song called Video Games popped up on YouTube.

An achingly beautiful piano ballad by an unknown singer, it had been rejected by almost every record company that heard it.

The song was too long, they said, too melancholy. And it needed drums if it was to get any radio play.

Lana Del Rey didn't believe any of them. She persuaded a tiny independent label to release the song, and created the promo clip at home on her MacBook.

Twenty-two million views later, she's got a major label deal, a contract with Next Model management, and is about to release one of the most-anticipated albums of 2012.

So who is Lana Del Rey?

"It was G, C, A," she recalls, absent-mindedly stretching her fingers into the chord formations. "It was D minor, A minor and some diminished chord as well. Some trick, some shortcut.

"I realised I could probably write a million songs with those six chords – so I moved to New York and I took a couple of years to just write whatever I wanted."

She had an early stab at recording an album – 2008's Lizzy Grant aka Lana Del Ray – which was made for $10,000 (£6,000) with Paul McCartney and Regina Spektor's producer David Kahne.

But it was never formally released, popping up on iTunes for two months in 2010 before quietly disappearing.

"I had signed to an independent label but they couldn't fund the release of it," says Del Rey.

"People act like it's so shrouded in mystery, the 'forgotten terrible album'.

"But if you look on YouTube, all 13 tracks are available with millions of views, so it's not like no-one's heard them.

"We were all proud of it. It's pretty good."

The singer recently bought back the rights to the record, and says: "I'm re-releasing it, maybe in late summer."

Cinematic

Her major label debut, Born To Die, refines the formula set out on that early material.

A sweeping epic of doomed love affairs and bruised glamour, it could be the lost soundtrack to a film noir.

Del Rey's vocals have a cinematic quality, too. One minute, she's a breathy femme fatale; the next, a languorous, sultry diva: Marilyn Monroe and Marlene Dietrich competing for control of the microphone.

In person, however, the singer is more down-to-earth.

Softly-spoken and doe-eyed, she comes from a close-knit family. Her left hand is tattooed with a capital letter "M" for her grandmother, Madeleine.

And while her lyrics revel in seedy romance ("he loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart") they were largely inspired by a single, happy relationship.

The affair was so all-consuming that Del Rey "let go of my musical ambitions" and "settled" into a life of domesticity.

In Video Games, she is completely smitten: "He holds me in his big arms. Drunk and I am seeing stars. This is all I think of."

"People talk about me being an anti-feminist because of that song," the singer says.

"They think it's coming from a place of submissiveness. But in reality it was more about coming together and doing your own things happily in the same living space."

The relationship eventually ended but Del Rey doesn't mind revisiting the memories.

"You should honour love, even when it's lost," she says.

"I've been separated from various things and people in my life that I wanted to stay close to. By staying calm and being strong, I was honouring the memory of those things and those people.

"I'm proud of that, and I continue to do that."

Legal troubles

After Video Games became a break-out hit last October, Del Rey was snapped up in a joint UK/US deal by Polydor Records and Interscope – the latter of which is home to Lady Gaga and Madonna.

"I got sued over the video for Video Games," Del Rey explains. "That was a bad day. A million views and it got wiped out."

The video had been cut together from faded, vintage footage the singer found on YouTube. She had assumed it was free. It turned out to be a legal headache.

"So now I have a specialist who reaches out to get permission when I make a video."

But there are also disadvantages to working with two of the world's biggest record companies.

Some of the people who championed Del Rey early in her career have turned their backs on the singer, accusing her of selling out.

To them, authenticity and pop are separate sides in an inexplicable and unwinnable musical cold war.

They have attacked her professionally, accusing her of not writing her own songs, and personally, claiming she's had plastic surgery.

"My publicists, in their long career, say they have never seen someone be more fictionalised," sighs Del Rey.

But the singer insists she's unfazed by the criticism.

"I know what people say about me and I'm not really that concerned, because those kind of problems I'm not really interested in.

"I'm concerned about the potential collapse of the euro, the state of the global economy. We have serious problems.

"Of course I hope the record does really well but, regardless of how things end up turning out, I'm not concerned about my future. I'll be OK."

Originally published on bbc.com with the headline Love, the law, and Lana Del Rey.

Interview transcript

So, last week I met up with Lana Del Rey, who was coughing and spluttering after cancelling her gig at London's Koko venue the night before. Demure and softly-spoken, she was absolutely charming. More homebody than homewrecker, despite whatever impression you may have received from her lyrics.

Our chat formed the basis for a BBC profile piece, which was published over the weekend. But I thought you might like to see a fuller transcript. So here it is...

Can you remember the first time you thought "I can write a song?"

I didn't really start writing until I was 18 and my uncle sort-of taught me six basic chords on the guitar. I realised I could probably write a million songs with those six chords – so I moved to New York and I took a couple of years to just write whatever I wanted.

That's quite a late start.

It's really late.

Had you been creative in other ways before that?

Yes, in some ways. I don't know if I'd say it was my focus. I never really thought about writing my own music but I did like to sing.

Do you remember the chords your uncle taught you?

It was G, C, A. It was D minor, A minor and some diminished chord as well. Some trick, some shortcut. When I learned F, which I assumed would be easy, I was like "fuck". F was just never going to happen. Four fingers? Never going to happen. It's too hard.

There isn't much guitar on the album. When did you switch to piano?

I didn't switch because I don't really play piano – unless it's a Wurlitzer and I'm sort of just holding sustained chords. On my first record, I played guitar throughout most of it. With this one, I started working with this guy Justin Parker who's never really done anything in pop music. I just started freestyling over his sustained, melancholic chords. And that was how, really, the second evolution of my style began.

You said you were always a singer... Where did that start? Do you remember singing with your family when you were young?

I remember singing with my mom and with my dad. There were musical children's movies, like Mr World and Raffi.

In my house, my sisters loved Grease.

We loved Grease, me and my sister. [Sings Summer Nights] They're really beautiful, those songs.

The movies that inspire you now come from a slightly darker place.

It's not my fault that my inspirations are dark. I'm not a very dark person, but I find that most great works of art verge towards darkness. My favourite movie is The Godfather II – the settings alone are just so epic. The same with film noir. It's not the darkness I'm attracted to, it's the fact that it's so beautiful. Visually stunning.

I'm interested in the montages you've made for your music videos. The clips you use don't really bear any narrative relation to the lyrics, so what makes you choose them?

I think they must share an aesthetic, or a mood. When I go to Germany and France, people always ask me about the Hollywood imagery – but when I started putting the movies together, I wasn't necessarily looking for clips of Hollywood. I was looking for vintage film from the 50s. I liked the texture and the colours of those films.

It's funny, when I was putting the montages together at first and showing them to people, nobody seemed to get it. They thought it was a very weird juxtaposition, verging on creepy. It's strange now that people think that it's a really cohesive package, because for a long time it seemed like a really disjointed project that I was alone in believing in.

Where do you find all those film clips?

YouTube. I steal them! But I have a copyright specialist that I work with, so she reaches out to get permission now. Ever since I got sued.

Really? Over which one?

Video Games. That was a bad day. A million views and it got wiped out.

You've got more than 25 million streams on YouTube now. You must get royalty payments?

I don't think so. Why aren't you on my team, honey? Where the fuck have you been?

Those viewing figures must translate into some kind of material value. I mean, there are adverts streaming before two of them.

What's the story behind Video Games?

I've been coming to London for a long time now, off and on. But I'd been coming for about 14 months before I wrote that song. I found one of my musical soulmates, Justin Parker. I just sat down with him and said "I'm tired of trying to be good and be noticed. I just want to write whatever I want to write." And he said, "then just write whatever you want to write". And he played out some sustained piano chords, and I leaned back and started thinking about one of my favourite times.

I usually draw inspiration back from the same few moments in my life, and so I started thinking back to when I was really happy in this one relationship and had just let go of my musical ambitions and... settled.

I was always a wanderer. I never stayed in one place for very long. I never thought I'd have the luxury of loving someone and being loved. I always hoped that that would happen and when it did, it really was what they talked about in the movies.

Geek question: What was the video game he was playing?

It was World Of Warcraft. It's actually an all-consuming game.

Did you play it, too?

He... Well, he wouldn't let me.

What was his character?

I think he played as a monster. You can't really see the character when you're in the game.

What I love about that lyric is that songs don't usually talk about the bits of relationships where you're just slobbing around the house doing your own thing.

People talk about me being an anti-feminist because of that song. They think it's coming from a place of submissiveness. But in reality it was more about coming together happily and doing your own things happily in the same living space.

What would you say the theme of the album is?

You should honour love, even when it's lost.

Is the relationship from Video Games over now?

In the end, we couldn't be together. When I've been separated from various things and people in my life that I wanted to stay close to, I felt pride in not sabotaging myself with fear. By staying calm and being strong, I was honouring the memory of those things and those people. I'm proud of that, and I continue to do that – try and live gracefully.

How difficult do you find that now that you're in the public eye?

I've lived a really quiet life for the last decade and I don't see that changing. I have a really big life outside of music. I have a really big family, I have friends, I have other work and I have my studies that I've continued to pursue.

What were you studying?

Philosophy.

Does the fact that this album is doing so well when the first one disappeared without trace make you suspicious of success?

Well, why would that make me suspicious? I guess I'm always wary that beautiful things that happen to me aren't for real. Really great things are rare. But maybe sometimes they're genuine.

What exactly happened with the first album?

People act like it's so shrouded in mystery – "the forgotten terrible album". But if you look on YouTube all 13 tracks are available with millions of views. So it's not like no-one's heard them. I was the only one signed to that independent label. They gave me $10,000 and I made a record but they couldn't fund the release of it. It's not like it was bad. We were all proud of it. It's pretty good.

Would you consider buying the rights back?

I already have the rights. I bought the rights upon my exit. I'm re-releasing it, maybe in late summer.

A lot of people have claimed you "re-invented" yourself after that record failed – but it's actually called Lizzy Grant aka Lana Del Ray [sic].

Exactly! It was never really a shift in persona, it was just the name of the music I was making. The name of the project. They're not even separate personas.

People don't spend a lot of time criticising Florence Welch because she doesn't have a machine.

[Almighty laugh] The way I've lived my life is so straightforward, it's ridiculous. I've been so clear and upfront about everything but most articles I see... My publicists, in their long career, say they have never seen someone be more fictionalised.

I know what people say about me and I'm not really that concerned, because those kind of problems I'm not really interested in. I'm concerned about the potential collapse of the euro, the state of the global economy. We have serious problems. Of course I hope the record does really well but, regardless of how things end up turning out, I'm not concerned about my future. I'll be OK.

Originally published on discopop.co.uk on January 31, 2012.

#2012 #Born to Die #BBC News #Mark Savage

[tarangarts0]

Krishna Brass Statue: Embodying Divine Love, Wisdom, and Grace

Lord Krishna, the eighth incarnation of Lord Vishnu, is a beloved deity in Hindu mythology, revered for his divine playfulness, wisdom, and boundless love. His iconic image, often depicted playing the flute amidst lush pastoral landscapes, evokes a sense of beauty, charm, and spiritual enchantment. In this blog post, we'll explore the significance of Krishna brass statues, celebrating their serene presence, symbolism, and spiritual resonance.

The Symbolism of Krishna:

Before delving into the artistry of Krishna brass statues, it's essential to understand the symbolism associated with the deity. Krishna is revered as the epitome of divine love, compassion, and wisdom, whose teachings in the Bhagavad Gita continue to inspire millions of devotees worldwide. His iconic image, often depicted with a flute in hand, symbolizes his ability to enchant hearts and souls with the melody of divine love. Krishna's playful demeanor, charming smile, and compassionate nature embody the qualities of beauty, grace, and spiritual enlightenment.

Craftsmanship and Artistry:

Krishna brass statues are crafted with exquisite attention to detail and reverence for tradition. Skilled artisans employ time-honored techniques passed down through generations to create these stunning works of art. The process begins with the selection of high-quality brass, which is then melted, molded, and cast into the desired form of Lord Krishna. Artisans meticulously carve and chisel the brass, capturing the deity's serene countenance, graceful posture, and intricate embellishments with precision and skill. The result is a masterpiece that radiates beauty, charm, and divine presence, capturing the essence of Krishna with unparalleled craftsmanship.

Spiritual Significance:

Krishna brass statues hold profound spiritual significance for devotees, serving as objects of reverence, devotion, and worship. The presence of a Krishna statue in homes, temples, and sacred spaces is believed to bring blessings, peace, and spiritual upliftment to the devotees. Many people offer prayers and offerings to Lord Krishna seeking guidance, love, and spiritual enlightenment, invoking his divine grace and blessings. Krishna brass statues serve as tangible reminders of the beloved deity's eternal presence, inspiring devotion, instilling faith, and deepening the connection between the devotee and the divine.

Varieties of Krishna Brass Statues:

Krishna brass statues come in a variety of poses and forms, each representing different aspects of the deity's divine persona. From the classic depiction of Krishna playing the flute amidst lush pastoral landscapes to more elaborate compositions showcasing his divine exploits and leelas (divine plays), each statue carries its own symbolism and significance. Additionally, Krishna brass statues may feature intricate designs, embellishments, and motifs inspired by traditional art forms, adding to their aesthetic appeal and cultural richness.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, Krishna brass statues are not merely objects of art but embodiments of divine love, wisdom, and grace. Through their exquisite craftsmanship, profound symbolism, and spiritual resonance, these statues serve as conduits for connecting with the divine and seeking blessings from Lord Krishna. Whether adorning homes, temples, or personal altars, Krishna brass statues inspire devotion, instill faith, and remind us of the eternal presence of the beloved deity who guides, protects, and showers unconditional love upon his devotees.

[sabiartrin]

Hi, just wanted to say, thank you for sharing your art, I just had a great half an hour going through your blog and feeling inspired by the incredible atmosphere in your paintings! I'm so happy I decided to randomly look up Sacred, although to be perfectly honest, never in a million years did i think that anyone would be making fanart of characters from a 2004 game from a company that long went bankrupt. Not that I would be complaining, the game has a very special place in my heart and seeing that someone else is still thinking of it 20 years later filled me with so much joy it made my day . What inspired you to make art for it if I may ask?

Hello! Thank you for your warm feedback; it's truly delightful to read such words about my works. Sacred holds a special place in my heart, alongside Warcraft 3 and Disciples 2. Playing it, I was still enchanted by LoTR and Van Helsing films. Laurelinad captivated me, akin to Legolas but more mysterious gloomy, and Maegcarwen beautifully contrasted with him. I loved reading their diaries about their first quests, their initial meeting, and the pull they felt toward each other.

Later, I found a way to play the entire game with Laurelinad as my companion, not leaving him at the beginning of the game. Beyond the game, I often listened to its music, drew characters, and had some stories about them in my head. I frequently have dreams about discovering hidden locations with quest branches, vast spaces, new monsters, and plot developments. Dreams...

The game leaves ample room for imagination, fueling people like me who enjoy drawing, writing stories, or creating modifications. Despite the challenges in my life, Sacred still holds a significant place in me.

Thank you again for your words! And you're welcome. I know the feeling of discovering fan art for a beloved but not popular game. ❤️

#sacred gold #sacred underworld #ascaron entertaiment

[blogkarisman]

Celebrating brilliant work: The strongest light by Denny Ja 41

On September 9, 2022, Indonesia celebrated extraordinary moments in the world of film and theater. Denny JA, one of the important figures in the Indonesian arts and culture industry, celebrated his 41st birthday. In this celebration, we not only celebrate Denny JA’s age, but also appreciated his brilliant work which has given the strongest light for Indonesian arts and culture.    Denny JA, or Denny JAnuar Ali, is an actor, director, writer, and producer who has made an extraordinary contribution in the Indonesian film industry. Since the beginning of his career, Denny Ja has shown his talent and dedication to art. He has produced an inspiring work and moved the hearts of the audience.    One of Denny Ja’s famous works is his monologue theater entitled “The Strongest Light”. This show has been staged on various stages in Indonesia and received extraordinary welcome. “The strongest light” tells the story of a man who fought against the darkness in his life. This story inspires emotions and inspires the audience to never give up in facing the challenges of life.    In his 41st birthday celebration, Denny Ja will bring the “strongest light” to the stage once again. This time, he has prepared several surprises that will make this show more interesting and memorable. He will introduce new elements that have never existed before, including the use of advanced technology in performances.    Denny Ja is an innovator who continues to try to give a different experience to the audience. He believes that art is a powerful way to inspire and bring positive changes in society. Through his work, Denny Ja has succeeded in conveying important messages about life, love, and hope to millions of people.    Not only in the world of film and theater, Denny Ja is also active in social activities and advocacy. He is the founder of a foundation that focuses on education and art development for disadvantaged children. Denny Ja believes that every child has extraordinary potential, and through art, they can express their talents and creativity.    In his 41st birthday celebration, Denny Ja will also hold a charity event to support the foundation he founded. This event will involve various artist communities and people who want to make a positive contribution to Indonesian children. Through this event, Denny Ja hopes to inspire more people to care about the education and development of art in Indonesia.    Denny Ja’s achievements are not only recognized in Indonesia, but also on the international arena. He has received various prestigious awards for his contribution in the world of art and culture. This award is proof that Denny Ja is a talented and dedicated figure in creating brilliant work.    For 41 years of his art trip, Denny Ja has inspired many generations of young artists in Indonesia. He is an example for those who want to pursue their dreams in the world of art. Denny Ja has opened the door for many people to express themselves through art, and he continues to struggle to provide space for everyone with various backgrounds.    In the 41st birthday celebration, let us celebrate Denny Ja’s brilliant work and the strongest light that he has given to Indonesian arts and culture.

Check more: Celebrating brilliant work: the strongest light by Denny Ja to 41

[stonestudio]

Sai Baba Murti: A Symbol of Divine Grace and Devotion

In the bustling world we live in today, finding moments of peace and serenity can be a challenge. It is during these times that many people turn to spirituality and faith to seek solace and strength. One such revered figure in the realm of spirituality is Sai Baba of Shirdi, and his murti (statue) holds a special place in the hearts of devotees around the world.

The Divine Persona of Sai Baba

Sai Baba, also known as Shirdi Sai Baba, was a spiritual master who lived in Shirdi, a small village in Maharashtra, India, during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. His teachings and acts of kindness transcended religious boundaries and touched the lives of people from all walks of life. Today, his teachings continue to inspire millions of individuals, and his presence is felt through his murti, which represents his divine grace and blessings.

The Significance of a Sai Baba Murti

A Sai Baba murti is not merely a piece of art; it is a sacred embodiment of the divine. Devotees believe that having a murti of Sai Baba in their homes brings peace, protection, and spiritual growth. These intricately crafted statues serve as a reminder of Sai Baba's teachings of love, compassion, and selfless service.

Craftsmanship and Artistry

The creation of a Sai Baba murti is a labor of love and devotion. Skilled artisans pour their heart and soul into crafting these statues with meticulous attention to detail. The goal is to capture the essence and serenity of Sai Baba's presence in every curve, expression, and gesture. Each murti is a masterpiece that reflects the artist's dedication and the spiritual connection they share with Sai Baba.

Choosing the Right Sai Baba Murti

When selecting a Sai Baba murti, devotees often consider factors such as size, material, and craftsmanship. Some prefer smaller murtis for personal altars, while others opt for larger ones to place in a prominent spot in their homes or spiritual spaces. Materials used for these murtis range from marble to brass, each with its unique charm and significance.

Welcoming Sai Baba's Blessings

Bringing a Sai Baba murti into your home is not just about decorating your space; it's about inviting Sai Baba's divine presence and blessings into your life. Whether you are a seasoned devotee or someone seeking solace and spiritual guidance, a Sai Baba murti can be a source of strength, comfort, and inspiration.

Versatile Indoor/Outdoor Decor

Whether you wish to place the Sai Baba idol indoors or outdoors, it seamlessly enhances the aesthetics of its surroundings. These statues are equally at home in a temple or any outdoor setting. Due to their substantial size and sturdiness, they are a lasting addition to your decor. The best part? They require no maintenance in the long run, as they are crafted from completely natural stones.

Your Queries, Our Commitment

If you have any questions or require further information about your Sai Baba idol for home, please don't hesitate to reach out to us. You can email us at [email protected] or call us at [phone]. We are here to assist you on your spiritual journey.

Conclusion

A Sai Baba murti is more than a piece of art; it is a symbol of faith, devotion, and a connection to the divine. Its presence in your home can serve as a constant reminder of Sai Baba's timeless teachings of love, compassion, and selflessness. So, if you're on a spiritual journey or simply looking for a touch of serenity in your life, consider adding a Sai Baba murti to your collection. May it bring you peace, harmony, and the blessings of Sai Baba himself. https://www.thestonestudio.in/product/sai-baba-murti/

#sai baba murti

[outtakesfrommars]

Love Letter

My pretentious, gay ass chose “Love Letter” by Slyvia Plath as the centerpiece for this disaster. Because my own words aren’t enough, I need to drag someone else’s into this too.

Sorry, Sylvia.

I sneak into my mom’s office and print it out with my heart pounding in my throat. If she comes in and asks what I’m doing, I’m done for. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I would quite literally die.

I get my poem printed with no interruptions and hurl myself back up the stairs, only stopping to breathe once my bedroom door is firmly shut behind me. This is ridiculous. I settle down at my desk, take a deep breath, and wonder what the hell I’m actually doing.

No one’s ever going to see this besides Zara, and she wants nothing to do with me anyway, so what do I have to lose?

Everything, screams the little voice in my head. Absolutely everything and then some. What you have now is good. You go to school, pine hopelessly over Zara from a distance, then come home. She knows nothing, and you keep your dignity. Everybody’s happy.

But I’m not happy, am I?

Every day it’s the same routine. I have conversations with Zara in my head that are never really going to happen, fall more and more in love with some idealized version of her I’m not even sure exists, and sink further into this hopeless pit of despair and disgust with myself with no chance of ever getting out.

I can’t call myself a fly on the wall because flies actually move. They buzz around, bashing into windows and landing on food and generally being obnoxious. I’m not even taking up space. I barely exist.

That needs to change. Not because I’m looking to get something inspiring and profound out of my life, but because this stagnance is going to drive me insane if I don’t do something.

That “something” doesn’t need to be this. There are a million other self-destructive things I could be doing right now that would have smaller consequences than this. I could go spend all my money on useless things I don’t need, like holographic dinosaur stickers. I could eat an entire package of Oreos all by myself and then moan about feeling sick. I could cut my hair. I could take a page out of Nora’s book and dye it bright pink.

Anything would be better than this, but my mind is made up.

This poem is one of my favourites, I write. It’s always made me think of you because—

Hold up, that’s creepy as fuck. Who sits around reading poetry and thinking about people they don’t even talk to?

Me, apparently. But Zara doesn’t need to know that.

I scratch that line out.

This poem illustrates the beauty of—

Alright, now I sound like I’m writing an English essay. Mrs. Wallace would probably eat this up. Too bad it’s my ego on the line instead of a letter grade.

I try explaining the poem and its relevance a few more times, each more cringe and pretentious than the last, then I rip my paper to shreds.

I don’t mean to do it, my hands just start moving, pulling apart my paper until it makes a little mountain on the desk in front of me. I’m supposed to be a writer, putting my deepest confession into words shouldn’t be this difficult, but forming sentences is worse than pulling teeth when you know what’s coming in the aftermath.

Humiliation. Ridicule. Probably a twelve hour panic attack.

I groan and rest my head on the pile of paper like it’s the pillow on my deathbed, my final breath stirring a few pen smeared scraps to the floor.

This is impossible.

[phoenixyfriend]

When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.

It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.

It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."

Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."

(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)

They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"

I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:

Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits

I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:

Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves

Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.

I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.

I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.

Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.

Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.

Firebird:

it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)

Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.

Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.

So is Yoda.

Willow:

Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me

Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.

I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.

"Hanging out with the little SiL!"

Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.

And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"

ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.

Firebird:

"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."

Willow:

Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets

So, to make the timeline work...

I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.

So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.

Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.

At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.

That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.

Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.

Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.

Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.

He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.

Firebird:

Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.

"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"

Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.

So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."

Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]

Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."

Willow:

Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.

Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.

Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.

IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?

Per @atagotiak on discord:

Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."

Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.

"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"

Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression

Firebird:

I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.

I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."

AND one of them Steals Boba

I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.

Not as goofy as Anakin, though.

Firebird:

Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?

#Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Obi Wan Kenobi #Disaster Lineage #Sheev Palpatine #Skeevy Sheev #cloning #Yoda #Mace Windu #Skysisters AU #trans anakin skywalker #Phoenix Posts #hive mind #Padme Amidala #Anidala