#it's from a short story called ''the wisdom of eve''

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the fifth part of our short fic rec list! All of the fics on this list are a nice quick read that is less than 10k. If you missed the other parts to this rec list, you can find part one here, part two here, part three here, and part four here. Happy reading!

1) Shut Your Mouth, Baby | Explicit | 3,028 words

While fooling around in a closet at a New Year’s Eve party, Louis can’t seem to keep quiet. All he needs to do is hold off until midnight, when Harry will finally uncover his mouth and let him come at full volume.

2) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3,557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

3) Tide’s Deathless Death | Explicit | 4,350 words

The Red Serpent gleamed in all of her marvellous glory from where she was anchored a meagre few miles away from the land. Her flag waving proudly in the afternoon sun. The image was certainly memorable, of the flag, that is; a serpent coiled viciously around a human heart, fangs sunken into the organ and blood oozing from the very spot. If not for the ship herself, the flag had its own repute of conveying the message that the captain was not to be trifled with. There was no single man who had survived after taking up arms against the captain. Well, there was one man, but including him amongst the hoard of common faces would be a foolishness on the feared-by-all captain’s part. That man currently stood silently staring after the captain, palm curled around the handle of his blade, and teeth clenched in anger. He was certainly going to relieve all the navies of their plight by taking down the captain. At least then, in his relatively newfound life of piracy, he would have done one good deed.

4) Always Tell The Truth | Not Rated | 5,027 words

Harry is Louis’ dentist and getting a wisdom tooth removed shouldn’t be the end of the world.

5) I Knew It From The Start | Explicit | 5,233 words

Louis starts calling Harry ‘daddy’. Consequently, Harry discovers that he has a daddy kink.

6) Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets | Not Rated | 6,441 words

The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis.

7) Outline Of My Sins | Explicit | 6,551 words

Prompt 453: AU where alpha Harry is an art student who is taking a figure drawing class and omega Louis is the nude model. In the many years that Harry has taken art classes, he has never been more hot and bothered than now, having to stare at a beautiful nude omega model for hours.

8) Shouldn’t Cry (But I Love It) | Explicit | 6,586 words

They're roommates. They're quarantined. There's a small problem coming up.

9) Your Name Is Tattooed To The Bottom Of My Heart | Explicit | 6,613 words

Prompt 114: a PWP where Louis gets an arse tattoo with Harry’s name for his birthday.

10) Leave Like The Summer Breeze | Explicit | 6,551 words

When Louis and Zayn are stranded in Alabama, a farmer offers them shelter. He just asks for one thing in return.

11) Smile for the Camera for It Knows Everything, Hollywood Star| Mature | 6,676 words

Prompt 132- The story of Nancy Reagan being called the blowjob queen of Hollywood but it’s Louis.

12) The Writing On the Wall | Explicit | 6,705 words

When BookToker Louis receives a gift basket filled with all his favorite sweets, wines, and stuffed animals alongside the new Harry Styles book, he’s shocked at the story he finds in the pages.

13) Muffins & Cigarettes| Mature | 7,591 words

Louis pouts. “You can’t pout your way into this, Louis”, Harry said as he was fixing his tie, watch and rings glinting against the soft sunlight filtering through the window. “Of course, I can. Watch me.”

14) The Knothead Neighbor| Mature | 8,058 words

Prompt 3: Neighbors AU, preferably ABO! Harry works evenings/nights (maybe like a surgeon something that requires him to be gone for long hours) and has a cat. The cat has a little kitty door at the back so that it can explore and such. Louis just moved next door and the cat seems to always end up at his door. Eventually, Louis lets the cat in, as he’s new and he’s feeling quite lonely. They become fast friends, so much so that the cat prefers to stay with Louis rather than go home. Harry gets concerned that the cat starts to stay out all day/night so he eventually leaves a note attached to the cat’s collar with its name and phone number. Louis texts him telling him he’s his neighbor and not to worry, the cat just likes to hang with him as it might be lonely. Harry gets pissed that this stranger is stealing his cat so he goes to confront Louis and tell him to stop stealing his cat. Of course, as soon as he sees Louis, he falls in love with him and the rest is history. (If ABO could be cute that both Harry and Louis like to cuddle with the cat because it holds the other’s scent)

15) Kiss It Better | Explicit | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

16) Could Start A Cult | Explicit | 8,750 words

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.

17) Should Be, Meant To Be | Explicit | 9,174 words

Prompt #65: Louis signs up for a Sugar Daddy dating website on a drunken dare. He forgets for a while, until one night he gets a notification for a message request from none other than his really hot (really rich) boss, Harry Styles.

18) Into It | Explicit | 9,197 words

Louis meets Harry. They hit it off.

19) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9,425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

20) Sugar Water | Explicit | 9,454 words

When his most familiar begins to feel all too unfamiliar, Harry finds out what it means to love like real people do.

21) Hook You Up (Charm You Down) | Explicit | 9,600 words

Swiftly, Harry raises his right hand to his head. Bringing two ringed fingers up, he touches the brown hat sitting on his head, tipping it with a raise of eyebrows in the direction of Peter Pan. He punctuates the whole action with his signature smirk. The reaction is almost immediate. Like Harry hoped it’d be. Though he expected the grin he received, he can’t say he directly expected the man to come forward his way. But he surely isn’t going to complain. “Captain! Fancy seeing you there,” Peter Pan says when he reaches Harry’s space. And wow. Seeing it from up close, Niall was right. Face of an angel, totally Harry’s type and all that. 

22) Poppies In May | Mature | 9,603 words

And maybe he deserves it, Louis thinks bitterly. His hand curls around the fence tightly, and he feels like if he lets go he’ll slid onto the cold ground and never fucking get up again. Maybe standing here, staring at Harry’s hunched over, retreating back is what he deserves.

23) Wanna Do Nothing With You | Explicit | 9,606 words

The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital. He’s told that he wasn’t unconscious the entire ride, but he has absolutely no recollection of it. One second he’s fucking around in his own garden and the next he’s being assaulted with the strong sterile scent of a hospital. So. There’s that.

24) Hello, My Name is Louis | Explicit | 9,686 words

Louis hurried to hang up the phone and take off his headset, throwing it away as if it was burning hot. He hugged himself by the shoulders and hid his face in his knees, sitting in his desk chair like a swimmer ready to dip into a pool, a pool of embarrassment. Not many people got past "Hello, my name is… " and even fewer engaged in a full conversation with him. And if they did, it usually went better than this.

25) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9,699 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

There are a lot of people Harry might expect to find on his doorstep at three o’clock in the afternoon these days. It could be the delivery man, come to drop off the pair of boots Harry impulsively ordered online last week. It could be one of his neighbors, dropping by to complain about how a party he’d thrown weeks ago had clogged up the street. It could also be any number of his friends in L.A., who stop by unannounced most days to mooch off Harry’s food or whisk him away to try some new yogurt shop.    As a rule, it definitely cannot be Louis Tomlinson, although Harry’s blinked at least three times now, and it’s still Louis standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffel bag at his feet.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #short fics

[mastomysowner]

10 theories about Im-sama‘s name

This is a translation of this article. Btw, there’s a theory that the hole in the wall through which Wapol saw Im-sama was made by Doflamingo on that day 30 years ago.

2023/06/03

The Empty Throne in Pangaea Castle on Mariejois. Where the kings of each country take an oath that they are all equal and have no desire for dictatorship. The person who easily sits on a throne that no one should sit on. The one who is called Imu-sama by the Five Elders.

① Buddha Theory

A Celestial Dragon who calls himself "God", Im-sama, who stands above the Gorosei, the highest authority in the world. Since he's above the Celestial Dragons, isn't he something conceptual rather than human? In other words, as there are the words “God” (神様) and “Buddha” (仏様), there are Gods (Celestial Dragon) and Buddha (Im-sama)? By the way, Buddha Shakyamuni had five disciples.

② "I hate (忌む)" Theory

Im-sama decides which “light” should be extinguished from history. Does this mean erasing things that are abominable for "this world ruled by the Celestial Dragons"? In The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, there’s a phrase “Looking at the face of the Moon is detestable”, 月の顔見るは忌むこと. Could it possibly be related to the Moon?

(TL note: The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter is filled to the brim with themes of the Moon and immortality.

Over time, Kaguya-hime realized that she did not belong to this world and should return home to the moon. In some versions of the story, Kaguya ended up on Earth as punishment for her crime, in others she remained safe while the war was going on on the moon. One day, the inhabitants of the moon came to take her back. She left a gift for her foster parents, and sent the emperor, who was in love with her, a farewell letter and the elixir of immortality. The emperor, having received the letter, ordered that his answer be taken to the mountain closest to heaven and burned there, in the hope that Kaguya would receive it. Together with the letter, the soldiers had to burn the elixir of immortality, as the emperor did not want to live forever without being able to see Kaguya.

It’s safe to say that Im-sama has a thing for Lily, I like @afishmushy​‘s Imhotep theory a lot.)

③ 16 Theory

Luffy rung the Ox Bell 16 times after the Paramount War. According to Killer, it was "a declaration that a new era has begun." 16 bullets were fired by the Celestial Dragon while executing the children. Is the number 16 a special number for the Celestial Dragons? "16" as a pun from the king of the world?

④ Imhotep Theory

Imhotep, a high priest from ancient Egypt. After his death, Imhotep's status had risen to that of a god of medicine and healing. Eventually, Imhotep was equated with Thoth. Thoth was a god of Moon, wisdom, magic and regulation of events and of time. He was thus said to be the secretary and counselor of the sun god Ra. There was an Egyptian motif when Im-sama was holding a picture of Vivi of Alabasta.

(TL note: there’s a manga titled Im: Great Priest Imhotep (Im～イム～)😁)

⑤ Adam and Eve Theory

Does イム come from those two names, アダ「ム」 and 「イ」ブ? However, those name have already been used for Treasure Tree Adam and Sunlight Tree Eve.

⑥ IMU → UMI Theory

The theory is that the name includes "sea", which is an important element in the world of One Piece. Devil fruits make the sea hate you, and you’re unable to swim if you eat them. Im-sama is like the sea itself and is a natural enemy of ability users?

⑦ France Theory

Im-sama (イム様) = Buddha (仏) = France (仏 is also short for フランス)? Will there be a French Revolution-like event involving Im-sama in the future? 

⑧ IM → I'm Theory

In the Old Testament, when Moses asked the Creator what his name was, the answer was "I am that I am".

⑨ Imu-bakko Theory

There are Ainu conceptions called Imu and Imu-bakko. They are mental disorders found only in Ainu society. The main symptoms are losing consciousness when surprised by something, actions on the orders of other person regardless of one's own will, or actions that are directly opposite to what the person says.

(TL note: If it’s really relevant, maybe Im doesn't necessarily suffer from this condition, but has mind control abilities. Nerona can be translated from Japanese as “don’t sleep”)

⑩ I, Mu Theory

Mu is a legendary lost continent that was located in the Pacific Ocean before its destruction. And the emperor of the Mu continent was titled Ra Mu, which means “the Son of the Sun". The emperor Ra Mu, the incarnation of the Sun god... There seems to be a connection with Im-sama...

(TL note: this is from James Churchward’s writings. They also have many other things relevant to the OP. Btw, the ancient civilization of Mu played a big role in Mega Man storyline. Le Mu, its emperor, the god of EM waves, was a final boss of one of the games)

#imu one piece #im one piece #one piece #Op meta #one piece meta #world government

[rjalker]

Anyways here's the short horror story from Scherzo, by Robert Shearman.

You can also listen to it with the video below, which I highly recommend. It's originally in four parts throughout the major story, so that's why there's seemingly random pauses.

[ID: The cover art for the Doctor Who audio drama, "Scherzo". The background is white and blue, with two stark blue and white hands clasped beneath the title. The audio is transcribed below. End ID.]

-

Once upon a time, in a land not too dissimilar to ours, there lived a king. And he was a good king, in an age when good was something of an unfashionable rarity.

He was very, very wise, and very, very powerful, but he was also very, very old. And he realized that for all his great wisdom and his great power, he would soon have to leave his kingdom once and for all, and make the journey to the outside world of infinite darkness.

And so, on the eve of his departure, when his physicians had finished all their headshaking and his wives had wrung as many tears from their eyes as they could, he called his son and heir to his side.

'Everything you see is yours to command,' he said. 'But be advised. The better slaves are those who still believe they taste some freedom. Play the tyrant, but you must inspire love as well as fear.'

Yet the son cared not for his words, and when the corpse had been dispatched with much pomp and fireworks to the darker realms outside, the new king resolved to stretch the limits of his authority.

He gathered all the people before him and told them that their every thought must match his thought. No will should exist save his will.

And people being people, they agreed. Those that didn't vanished in the night, and their families soon learned to pretend that they'd never existed.

But still the king was not content, so he instructed all the animals in his kingdom that they must now obey his commands.

Horses should bark, dogs should mew, fish should fly from tree to tree exactly as he desired.

And animals being animals, they agreed. Some of the pigs had to be culled, but no one minded because they tasted so lip-smackingly good. And the cats had to go because no one could tell a cat anything.

But soon the people and the animals lived in perfect harmony, their lives precise expressions of the whims of their lord.

-

Every living creature obeyed their king, doing everything he wanted to the smallest detail, sometimes even before he knew he wanted it. But still the king was not content. Living creatures only made up the smallest number of his subjects. So he gave out further orders.

He instructed the waves should crash upon the shore only when he gave the word. He instructed the wind should not blow, but suck. Time should not run forwards, but backwards or sideways.

It took years to persuade them. Soldiers slashed at the waves until their swords were soaked with wave blood. Wind and Time were locked in the deepest dungeons until, starving, they gave in.

The king ruled the elements, but still, he was not content.

There was one subject that still balked at his power.

Music.

How the king hated music.

Refusing to be constrained, refusing to be disciplined, a small burst of recitative flowering into a fugue without permission, or a cantata breaking out overnight into a fully fledged oratorio.

'Will no man rid me of these turbulent tunes?' he cried, and the militia, now trained to obey his merest impulse, took him at his word.

They seized the music, every last crochet and minim, each breve and innocent little semi-breve, and threw them out of the kingdom.

They threw them into the outside world of infinite darkness, and music was banished forever.

At last, the king had his own universe.

It was his and no one else's.

He was happy, and no one dared point out to him that he had exiled the only means by which he could express it.

-

You remember the tale of the foolish king? He who so despised music that he banished it from his realm?

His was a very quiet land. Birds sat silent in the trees, their beaks now stopped fast, their chirping and twittering frozen hard in their throats.

There was no longer a harmony to time. Seconds would race on or trudge forward, or simply come to a listless halt.

The waves crashed noiselessly onto the sand, for even within that there had been a trace of music.

There was no rhythm to life any more.

And the king's people felt it the worst. They had been slaves, but whilst they still had songs of liberty on their lips they had been happy slaves.

Some rebelled and were put to the torture. But even the torturers who once had calmed their consciences with soothing music were unable to bear the awful glaring, accusing, silence.

The fact was clear. Anything could be borne with music. But nothing could be borne without it.

And the king would sit on his throne in misery.

He dearly loved his wives, but now he heard in their words no love returned, no tune, no melody.

For this, he executed them regularly. The women he loved, their heads rolling from the scaffold soundlessly. The king himself, quite alone, weeping for them. All, all, quite silent.

One morning, the king decided that he would pardon music. He drew up a contract, stamped it with his own royal seal. Music was free to return from the outside world of infinite darkness. And to bear the good news, he sent several messengers there. Some by hanging, some by stabbing, one or two by slow-acting poison. But none returned, and nor did music.

The king was desperate.

He called upon his sorcerers, his necromancers, and those who were trained in the forbidden knowledge of music resurrection.

But it became obvious that the king himself would have to make a personal appeal to his prodigal son.

With court physicians administering, and the last of his wives looking on with glee, the king was slowly bled, each drop landing in a metal container with a plop that just managed to be wholly tuneless.

And as he wavered between death and life, he stepped into the darkness and called out. 'I have been a foolish man. I should have inspired love as well as fear. Please, let the music play again, all its songs, its symphonies, and its sundry choral works. Please, give my world a reason to live.'

-

It was seven days and seven nights before the king recovered, and he awoke to a miracle.

Once more birds were trilling in the trees, the clocks chimed and waves roared. Once more the world had music.

And his favorite wife of all stood over him and smiled, and in the timbre of her lilting voice he felt once again that she loved him.

The people were in celebration, singing in the streets whatever tunes would come into their heads. And they sang until their throats turned red raw. They sang until their arteries burst and gushed. They screamed their new songs of pain.

The king watched in horror as the birds fell dead in the street, as the waves struggled limply and then were drowned by the seas beneath them.

He heard his infant son cry out his last, his face bitten off by a savage lullaby.

The lilting voice of his wife, that he had loved so much, grinned at him cruelly before wrapping itself around her throat and throttling her silent.

The music raced through the kingdom, sparing none its terrible beauty.

As the bodies of his subjects fell to the ground, their death rattle sounded like the rhythm of a perfect drum.

And the music at last came for the king.

'Why?' he asked.

'Because we have been to the outside world,' the music replied. 'We have seen the infinite darkness, and we have learned that we need not only inspire love, but fear.'

And with a sound of brass and strings so beautiful it stopped the king's heart, the music swallowed him up whole, and became the new and dreadful lord of the entire world.

#horror #Scherzo #Rjalker listens to Doctor Who #Rjalker listens to Charley's Adventures #Rjalker listens to The Eigth Doctor #idk if this story has its own name or not #anyways #A+ metaphor A+ drama A+ everything #short stories #short horror stories #thanks robert shearman #Youtube #long post

[jvnipxrs]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

name ✧ juniper 'june' hawthorne. age ✧ twenty two. sexuality ✧ pansexual. date of birth ✧ may 9th 1996. place of birth ✧ chance harbour. species ✧ witch. gender ✧ female. pronouns ✧ she/her. current location ✧ beacon hills.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

bad habits ☾ nail biting, staying in her comfort zone. hobbies ☾ reading, drawing, crochet, keeping to herself. fears ☾ never finding out what happened to her mother & step father, losing control. aesthetic ☾ chipped nail varnish, cozy knitted jumpers & oversized sweaters

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

faceclaim ◈ grace van dien. height ◈ 5'2. hair colour ◈ ashy blonde. eye colour ◈ blue.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 !

Born under a starlit sky in the heart of Chance Harbour, Juniper Hawthorne arrived in this world amidst an air of mystique and wonder. From her earliest days, Juniper exhibited an uncanny affinity for the natural world, a connection that would shape her destiny. Her mother was her best friend, her father never in the picture. She grew up mostly without a father figure until she reached the age of eight, when her mother fell in love with a teacher at the local school. Juniper gained a step father, who vowed to raise her as his own until tragedy struck. Their lives were cut short in a mysterious accident when Juniper was just eleven years old. The details of the accident remain shrouded in uncertainty, leaving Juniper with a sense of loss and a need for answers.

With her mother gone, and her father who knows where, Juniper moved in with her grandmother in Beacon Hills. Throughout her teenage years, Juniper's bond with nature deepened. She spent hours beneath the towering oaks, communing with woodland creatures and tending to a garden that flourished under her touch. Yet, even as she wove botanical charms and whispered to the winds, Juniper remained blissfully unaware of her latent magical abilities.

It wasn't until the eve of her 22nd birthday that signs of her true nature began to surface. Vivid dreams and inexplicable sensations tugged at her consciousness and Juniper's world started to shift. She found herself drawn to an old bookstore tucked away in a forgotten corner of town. There, she stumbled upon dusty tomes filled with incantations, rituals, and stories of magic long thought to be lost.

As she delved into these ancient texts, whispers of an untapped power called out to her, awakening something extraordinary. simultaneously exhilarated and unnerved, she sought answers from her grandmother, who, with a knowing smile, revealed the truth: Juniper was a witch, and her connection to the mystical energies of the world was far from ordinary. Her mother had been a witch, and her birth father was a warlock. Although.. her mother had never revealed who her father was, not even to her own mother. Juniper would later come to find out that her father went by the name of John Blackwell. But for right now.. she has no idea.

Now on the precipice of a new chapter, Juniper embraces her identity as a witch, guided by her grandmother's wisdom. As she unravels the intricacies of spellcasting, potion brewing, and divination, Juniper's path unfolds like the pages of an ancient grimoire.

#beaconhillshqintro

[7r0773r]

Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community by Pádraig Ó Tuama

These are some of the things that prayer is. Prayer is rhythm. Prayer is comfort. Prayer is disappointment. Prayer is words and shape and art around desperation, and delight and disappointment and desire. Prayer can be the art that helps you name your desire. And even if the desire is only named, well, naming is a good thing, surely. Naming is what God did, the Jews tell us, and the world unfolded. Or perhaps naming is what the Jews did, and God unfolded. Either way, I'm thankful. Naming things is part of the creative impulse. Naming the deep desires of our heart is a good thing, even if those desires are never satisfied.

No prayer is perfect. There is no system of prayer that is the best. There is only the person praying, the person kneeling, the person walking with beads between their fingers, the person cursing God, or gloom, or fate, or whatever it is that seems to be not listening. Henri Nouwen said that the only way to pray is to pray; the only way to try is to try. So the only way to pray well is to pray regularly enough that it becomes a practice of encounter. No prayer is hollow — whether it is answered in one way or the silent way. To name the night is to be like God, speakng light to formless voids, putting rhythm and rhyme to the pell-mell that compels us. To pray is to trace the edge of chaos and find a way to contain it, not control it. Eve if the story we pray to is only a fiction, it might be fiction that’ll save us. Or it might change us. To pray is to imagine. And in imagining, we may imagine that we are imagined by something Bigger. The Zulus sometimes call God uNkulunkulu, Big-Big. My friend Emma calls God the Bigness, or sometimes, The Smallness. God of Gods. Light of Lights. Story of Stories. In whom our own chaos and creation are contained. Holy Holy Human. (Oremus, pp. xii-xiii)

***

The collect has beautiful form, like a haiku of intention. It has five folds. The person speaks to God; the person names part of the story of God; the person names their desire — only one desire; and then the person praying gives a reason why this is the one desire they name. This fourth fold echoes the first two: the name and the named story of God. And then the person finishes their prayer — with an Amen, or with a small bird of praise. (Oremus, p. xiv)

***

Morning prayer

We begin our day alone, honouring this life, with all its potentials and possibilities.

We begin our day with trust, knowing we are created for loving encounter.

We begin our day with hope, knowing the day can hold love, kindness, forgiveness and justice.

A reading followed by a time of silence

We recall our day yesterday, May we learn, may we love, may we live on.

We make room for the unexpected, May we find wisdom and life in the unexpected.

Help us to embrace possibility, respond graciously to disappointment and hold tenderly those we encounter. Help us be fully present to the day.

A short silence

We pray for all whose day will be difficult, May we support, may we listen, may we change.

We resolve to live life in its fullness: We will welcome the people who'll be part of this day. We will greet God in ordinary and hidden moments. We will live the life we are living.

A short silence

May we find the wisdom we need, God be with us.

May we hear the needs of those we meet, God be with us.

May we love the life that we are given, God be with us.

***

Prayer for courage

Courage comes from the heart and we are always welcomed by God, the Croí* of all being.

We bear witness to our faith, knowing that we are called to live lives of courage, love and reconciliation in the ordinary and extraordinary moments of each day.

We bear witness, too, to our failures and our complicity in the fractures of our world.

May we be courageous today. May we learn today. May we love today. Amen.

Amen.

*The Irish word Croí (pronounced 'Kree') means 'heart’ and is the name for the chapel space in Corrymeela, a beautiful circular place of prayer, built into the ground, with a living roof and echoes. In the Croi, we have prayers, we had dialogues, silence, and our morning and evening liturgies.

***

Midday prayer

We break from the doings of our day and make space to notice you. You are always with us in surprising guises.

Jesus of the flesh, we meet you in worker and friend, stranger and pilgrim, the needy and the needed, the questioner and questioned.

So when we meet you, may we deepen trust, deepen life, deepen justice and deepen joy.

And when you meet us, help us approach our activities with presence and power, with love and humility, with courage and dignity.

Amen

Prayer for Courage 

***

Evening prayer

We reflect on the day:

For the love shared we are grateful For provision and nurture we are grateful For kindness given we are grateful.

For the sorrow we've caused, we pray for forgiveness For injustices ignored, we pray for forgiveness.

For the encounters with God today, in stranger and friend, We bid you welcome. For the encounters missed today, We know that you always see us even when we don't see you. For tomorrow, May we see you in ways expected and unexpected.

We welcome the dark of the night. We make space for it, and we mark our place in it.

We remember that you, Jesus of Nazareth, lived through nights of consolation and desolation.

And you walked into the nights of those people you met inviting them to justice and truth, love and life.

We welcome the night, and we welcome you into all our nights.

We pray for those who work by night, whose day is marked by moon, cloud and stars.

And we pray for those whose nights are desolate, that they may have the consolation of prayer, peaceful solitude and community.

For a peaceful night, we pray. For a hopeful day, we pray For a deeper generosity, we pray.

Prayer for Courage 

Amen.

***

Day 6

They said to him, 'Rabbi, where are you staying? He said to them, 'Come and see.'                                                                                    John 1.38-39

Jesus of Nazareth, You met unlikely people in unlikely places and joined yourself to them in friendship. May we be like you in this way, finding friends at crossroads and bus-stops, in queues and crises, in kindness and curiosity. Because we, like you, need the company of others. Amen.

#pádraig ó tuama #book quotes

[noxtms]

dear rachel ; we are pleased to inform you that your application for ASTORIA GREENGRASS has been accepted to 𝐧𝐨𝐱 ! go min si is now taken. you have twenty four hours to submit your account, or else your role will be reopened !

⧼   go min si, cis woman, she & her   /   dead girl in the pool by girl in red + once upon a time, 호랑이 담배 피우던 시절에, latha bha seo, a gallant king and beautiful queen long thought to be barren finally welcomed three bonny daughters and their kingdom rejoiced with the ringing of the bells. the king held a christening feast unlike any seen before and invited the three fairies in the land to join in the celebrations, secretly hoping that they would bestow the most magical gifts upon his children. a great storm rolled in on the eve that the owls were sent to deliver the invitations and one was blown off course ; it was a harmless mistake. the youngest fairy stepped forward as the eldest child was presented to court and bowed low. "this princess," she proclaimed, "will be wealthy in wisdom." the king and queen, of course, thanked her greatly. the middle fairy stepped forward as the middle child was presented to court and bowed lower. "this princess," she said, "will have the courage to change." the king and queen, of course, thanked her profusely. only when the youngest child was presented and the eldest fairy was nowhere to be seen did the king and queen realise the blunder, with the dawning horror that there would be no more gifts to give. "this princess," the eldest fairy might've announced, "will be the fairest of them all." i say might because, of course, the eldest fairy found herself busy elsewhere on that particular day. this is the part of the story where everything goes wrong. fairytales always have rules ; if one princess is clever and the other is brave, the last will almost always be doomed. sorry - beautiful. but also doomed.   /   INTERLUDE #1 : anne carson wrote, "a golden flower of a girl; a precarious girl."   /   spoiler alert : that girl is going to die. at least that's what they're saying on the internet. have you ever heard of a little trope called 'fridging'? don't let yourself get too attached to the most unfortunate princess, now, because there's a world of ways in which the narrator can and will take her from you ; a wicked witch burst in to place a rotten curse on her, her mother's love smothered her in her sleep, the goddess of love was in a particularly bad mood that day, a man needed some character development and no one could think of anything better than a slow, painful end for the unlucky lady. god forbid she looks pretty in pictures - extra, extra, read all about it! 'BEAUTY SLAIN!'   /   INTERLUDE #2 : ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD, ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD, ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD, ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD-   /   even her name tells her what you need to know. derived from the german surname 'astor' or perhaps the name of the titan goddess 'asteria' in greek mythology. from the latin astur, meaning a species of hawk ( a hawk is a predator with good eyesight and a short, hooked beak ; a predator is a creature that hunts, kills and eats other animals, known as prey ; this, to a hawk, would be small birds and rodents easily clasped in the death trap of sharp talons ; this, on second thought, is rather unpleasant to think about, but you can already sort of see the irony ) or the ancient greek aster, meaning star ( a star is an astronomical object comprising a luminous spheroid of plasma born from the gravitational collapse of a gaseous nebula - that's a mouthful, isn't it? try again ; a star is a luminous ball of gas, mostly hydrogen and helium, held together by its own gravity. the sun is the closest star to earth ; the sun is the star at the centre of our solar system ; our solar system is a gravitationally bound system of objects, meaning the planets, circling the sun ; someone told me once that by the time the light of a star reaches us here on earth it's already dead & if the sun ever happened to change its mind about shining and collapse in upon itself then we'd all die, too ; bottom line, they're all beautiful, but doomed. ring a bell? )   /   INTERLUDE #3 : in the words of friedrich nietzche, "you have always approached everything terrible trustfully. you have wanted to pet every monster."   /   the princess wants a better story. who can blame her, right? it begun so promisingly. what if the bells at the start of the story woke a sleeping witch? the storm still rolled in and the owl still got blown off course and the eldest fairy still decided she had something better to do with her time but on the day of the grand christening feast, this witch got curious and wandered into the midst of the celebrations in time to see the king and queen exchange terrified looks. she's a bit rusty, but surely something, maybe even anything, is better than nothing. "this princess," she says, and all eyes turn to look at her, "will have the strength to persevere." still doomed, then, but given a fighting chance. maybe that's the best they could hope for.   /   FINALE : in a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy.   ⧽   ━━   hey, isn’t that ASTORIA GREENGRASS? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the TWENTY FIVE year old pure blood WITCH is a HUFFLEPUFF alumnus who has gone on to be an OWL POSTAL WORKER. i’ve heard they can be quite WHIMSICAL & EBULLIENT, but i don’t know… they came off very SCATTERBRAINED & HEDONISTIC in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?   [   rachel, twenty four, gmt, she / they   ]

#accepted. #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #mumu rp #established rp

[yenpet-yenaet]

Gen. 4 to 7

Basil the Great and Gregory of Nazianus, mem.

Chapter 4 starts off the heels of the previous with Adam and Eve having two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain’s name is a pun in that it sounds like the Hebrew word for ‘create.’ Fitting for the first child ever. In time, Cain grew up to be a tiller and Abel grew up to be a shepherd. One day, the two offer sacrifices to God, and God likes Abel’s very much but doesn’t like Cain’s at all. Cain became upset at this, so God says this to him: “For whether you offer well, or whether you do not, at the tent flap sin crouches and for you is its longing but you will rule over it.” I’m not the only one who thinks that verse makes very little sense, as Oxford calls it a “difficult verse” and Alter describes it as “enigmatic and probably quite archaic.” 

After this, Cain invites his brother to go out into the field together and there he kills him. On Abel’s death, God asks his second ever question: “Where is your brother?” God knows the answer, of course, as Abel’s blood cries out to him from the ground. Despite this, God gives Cain a chance to confess. Cain doesn’t, and instead asks “Am I my brother’s keeper?” I really like Rabbi Telushkin’s quote regarding this moment: “In essence, the entire Bible is written as an affirmative response to this question.” For killing his brother, Cain receives his punishment. He will have pain in tilling the ground and he will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth. When Cain can’t bear this, God marks him with protection, decreeing that whoever harms Cain will suffer seven-fold. After this, Cain goes away from the face of God into the land of Nod to have children with his wife. 

This jarring introduction of other humans into the story is well noted and Oxford says that perhaps “the narratives about him were not originally connected with creation.” Cain’s children serve as the first little seed of violence propagating. Cain was fruitful and multiplied, but so did the violence. He also founded the first city, so make of that what you will. The end of chapter 4, after a short genealogy, has Lamech recounting to his two wives how he just murdered two people. All this time late, or perhaps at the same time, Adam and Eve have their third son, Seth, whose descendants are listed off at length in the following chapter. The very last sentence of the chapter is quite enigmatic as it contradicts the narrative in the rest of the Pentateuch that God first revealed his name to Moses.

The entirety of the next chapter is a long genealogy list from Seth down to Noah’s sons. It is long, and boring, and I will not summarize it here. Unfortunately, this is neither the last nor the worst of the genealogies. That being said, there are a few notable things here. The names on Seth’s line often share the same name as people on Cain’s line. Right in the middle of the chapter, we meet Enoch for four verses. In these four verses, we learn that Enoch never died. He was taken by and  walked with God. This fascinating little tidbit, along with the equally bizarre Gen. 6:1-6 is what spawned all of Enochic literature. Alter notes that this is one of several instances in Genesis that preserves little fragments of earlier traditions that we only can guess at today. In addition, Enoch is quite similar to Enmeduranki from the Sumerian King List. Emmeranduki is also the seventh in a series and he was also taken before the gods and granted wisdom. Towards the end of the chapter, we meet the main characters for the next few chapters: Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham, and Japeth. Noah’s name is a pun on the word for ‘relief’ which is explained in the text (5:29). This name pun goes further as Lamech names him so because he will be the one to take away the pain of their hands, a term used only for Adam and Eve and thus linking back to the curses in Ch. 3. In addition, the names of Noah’s sons were once used as demographic categories, with Shem corresponding to the Middle East, Ham to Africa and Japeth to Eurasia. In fact, this is where the terms ‘semite’ and ‘semitic’ come from. Even though genealogies might seem boring– and they are– they’re there for a reason. Genealogical lists mark off narrative sections and are linked to the initial commandment to “be fruitful and multiply” and also with threats to that end.

Chapter 6 starts off with the wildest little bit of narrative that has absolutely nothing to do with anything that comes before it. In vv. 1-2, the Sons of God saw the daughters of men and had children with them. In v. 3, God sets the limit to human mortality to 120 years. In v. 4, we resume the previous story, naming the children of that union as the Nephilim and describing them as “heroes of yore, the men of renown.” My favorite explanation for this is that these Nephilim are another holdover from the polytheistic days in that they are demigods: half-human, half-god, and famous heroes. Their name means ‘the fallen ones,’ so presumably fallen in battle. There’s precedent in the Near East for such figures (Gilgamesh, Hercules). «Trey the Explainer» does a good job of explaining this theory.

The rest of the chapters are the incredibly famous story of the Flood. God grows incensed at the corruption and violence being fruitful and multiplying on the earth and He regrets ever having made the creatures. He resolves to destroy it all, but Noah finds favor with God. So God tells Noah to build an ark, a big boat, and gather animals to save them. Fun fact: there might actually be some historical truth to the ark story, or at least, «we know what the ark might have looked like.» After Noah had done all that, the Flood began. The waters grew higher and higher and it covered mountains. It kept flooding for 40 days (numerological shorthand for ‘a lot’). This basic flood story is shockingly common across the world with nearly every culture having some version of it. And the story beats are often the same too! In Mesopotamia, the character at the center is Utnapishtim, in India it’s Manu, and in Greece it’s Deucalion. 

Despite the Flood’s near universality, it does fit into Genesis’ own story. Here, God is not angered by the humans and their noise, like in Mesopotamia, but instead by the violence devised in the hearts of men that fills the earth. In fact, the whole flood narrative represents a return to chaos. Remember that, in the beginning, the spirit of God moved upon the surface of the waters. The whole story echoes and parallels the story of creation; first, the perversion of creation by mankind and then a reversal of creation by God. Alter notes that it “abounds in verbal echoes of the Creation story (the crawling things, the cattle and beasts of each kind, and so forth) as what was made on the six days is wiped out in these forty.” In the Bible, creation and destruction often go hand in hand.

What’s interesting about the Flood narrative is just how much the hands go back and forth, interweaving two separate strands of story together. As previously mentioned, the Pentateuch is replete with doublets because it’s the product of many different authors. Usually these doublets go one after the other or there might be some separation between them. This is one of the few places where the different sources overlap. The thinking is that since at the end of the Flood, God promises never to do that again, there’s no way these two accounts could go at two separate points, and so they are forced to overlap. Wikipedia has a «good list» of which verses are from which author.

Next up: Gen. 8 to 11.

#yenpet reads #book of genesis

[trusswork]

laziness, labor and animals

The lazy man looks at the constant activity of foraging or hunting animals, and thanks his lucky stars -- due to the development of his species, and perhaps in some measure to his personal circumstances -- that he has at least somewhat more leisure not to be in such constant, slavelike activity all day. Because what the lazy man hates in the human realm is precisely that: a seemingly animal level of constant activity which, in his intuition, seems unnecessary and destructive of something better. 

For those fellow humans more industrious (or sometimes less inwardly occupied) who do their best to work constantly, the lazy man loves the jobs where the obligation is often simply to "be there," to do more by doing less, a bullshit cop-out which is also probably a key to wisdom. After all, just as much as it is nonsense to say that the peasant of past ages (and the laborer of many rural societies still) had a life blessed with much leisure, it is as much nonsense to say that he and his family were constantly driving themselves to stay busy with many avenues of productivity, as we often find ourselves doing now. There was no need for such drive (and the moral teachings about "idle hands" largely applied to other and later sectors of society); the penalty for falling behind too badly was eventual poverty and ultimately perhaps death. In the interest of conserving precious energy, then, labor was of necessity done at no more intensity than needed for survival and a variable threshold of capital improvement. As the saying goes, "if you want to find a better and easier way to do a task, give the task to a lazy person." This is, of course, the most sanguine outcome (the less happy result is that the task will remain to some degree undone) -- and yet the lazy man has this in common with the peasant, that he knows to do no more than is needed. (This is the middle ground of which Milton invents a fantasied version in Paradise Lost bk 5, where he finds the middle way between the pre- and post-Edenic binary of near-indolence and hard labor -- where Adam and Eve labor just enough to feel refreshed by the breeze.) In our age, where capital improvement is considered always to be in process and always increasing its ambitions, such a conviction often makes no sense.

Animals are like the lazy man, the peasant, the laborer far from the city: they rest at every possible opportunity, their only capital projects residing in nests of various types, gathered food, and mating -- all else is either daily/seasonal survival, or leisure and play. Indeed, some species have refined this principle so far that they spend enormous amount of time simply waiting for food (eg, crocodiles) -- they have learned over endless ages that chasing their prey more than absolutely necessary is a way to death. The great cats sit for hours, wasting nothing. And thus all animals, unless under the most exceptional duress, doze, play and socialize unfailingly and automatically, never feeling the human pressure to short or entirely forsake these activities. And animals, by those who do not understand their behavior, are regularly called lazy.

It is not that human existence does not require hard labor -- the story of Genesis is unchanged. It is that, in our aspiration to be more than animal, we often forget what animals teach about labor - that a good part of the most important work is still vigilance, stewarding the emergence of things.

#labor #animals #laziness

[inthespiritofthemind]

#50 We are Spiritually Alive at Birth

Many believers think that after Adam and Woman (later called Eve after the Fall) first sinned in the Garden of Eden and died spiritually, all mankind was fallen when they were born into the world.  However, there are scriptures which tell us that is not so.  In John 1:9 we read, “There was the true light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man.”  In the accompanying references for each verse, we can see another option for this verse which could read, “There was the true light which enlightens every man coming into the world.”  The true light is God.  Every man coming into the world would be every baby born.  Simply put, God lives in every baby born into the world.  The truth is that God created mankind and loves us.  Every person born into the world is unfallen until sin occurs.  

Paul writes in Romans 7:9, “I was once alive apart from the Law; but when the commandment came (the Law), sin came alive, and I died.”  We are spiritually alive as babies and when we reach what some call “the age of accountability,” we make a decision to follow the leading of evil speaking into our thoughts.  We choose to disobey the Law of God and we sin.  At that point we die spiritually and our souls take over running our lives.  That is when we need Jesus, our Redeemer.  

Another compelling affirmation that babies are spiritually alive and not born fallen is found in Luke 1:26-55.  In this blog, if you go to post #33 God’s Take on When Life Begins, you will find an explanation of this truth in detail.  In short, we find Mary has received the word of God that she will bear a child who is the Son of God.  She accepts the Word from the angel Gabriel, the Holy Spirit comes upon her and she conceives.  She is pregnant with an embryo.  She then travels to visit her pregnant relative, Elizabeth.  She enters the house and says a greeting.  The fetus in Elizabeth jumps for joy, the Holy Spirit comes on her and she calls Mary “The Mother of my Lord.”  

Jesus was an embryo.  John the Baptist was a fetus.  Mary was already a mother and Jesus was already the Lord.   John was already capable of expressing emotion and reaction to sound when it reached the ears of his mother.  Wow!  That is amazing!  It is clear that these babies were connected spiritually to the Creator.  The babies were covered by the Holy Spirit during their time in the womb.  And when born they were spiritually alive.  Jesus was the only person on earth who never fell into sin and was spiritually alive and one with the Father until the cross.  Pregnancy is a blessed and holy time for every mother.    

There are multiple stories of infants and toddlers who seem to be watching some unseen entity and delighting in what they are seeing.  All smiles.  Looking at a place in the room where no one is visibly standing or sitting.  Speaking out in what seems to be a rebuke in some unknown language while pointing and frowning.  

 Babies are spiritually alive, not fallen. They see angels and demons. Sometimes they have not yet acquired fears (spirits of evil) influencing their souls. They talk to the angels and they cast out demons.  Praise God for His wisdom and we thank Him for giving us life, mercy, and grace.  Babies are spiritually alive when born.  Lord, teach us discernment so we may teach our children how to walk with You for their whole lives and how to fight the battle against darkness with courage! Thank you, Lord!  

#Teaching #Father God #Jesus #Holy Spirit #Angel Gabriel #Mary #Elizabeth #babies are spiritually alive #embryo #fetus #John 1:9 #Romans 7:9 #Luke 1:26-55 #not fallen at birth #see angels #cast out demons #discernment #fight the battle against darkness #pregnancy is a blessed time

[fran-kubelik]

#all about eve #1950 #1950s #joseph l. mankiewicz #bette davis #celeste holm #books on film #(sorta?) #it's from a short story called ''the wisdom of eve'' #vintage sass #mygifs #myedits #⭐ #🔥

[tinyhistory]

hello! i hope you’re doing well. i had a question regarding your writing: how do you manage to be so descriptive? i absolutely love how vivid your stories always are; i never have trouble picturing any scenery in your works, like, practically ever. how do you know the names of so many plants? do you garden/are you a botany enthusiast? and did you have to read a manual on motorcycles for astra inclinant? currently reading that right now, by the way, and i think it’s so incredibly lovely.

Hello anon! So glad you’re enjoying Astra Inclinant 🥰

To answer your question:

R E S E A R CH. So much research.

When I’m writing, I don’t stop to fix things along the way. My descriptions are actually pretty flat. “He leaned against a tree, listening to a bird call,” I’ll write as I focus on the plot and dialogue. Later, during the editing process, I’ll go back and write in the proper descriptions.

So, for example, I’m editing Astra Inclinant and I come across the description, “James leaned against the tree,” and decide to fill it out.

Writing tips for descriptions below, if you’re interested —

1. Pick a theme

Let’s say this scene is occurring on the eve of James’s Hogwarts graduation. I want the scene to convey a sense of youthfulness, lightness, and optimism. I want the mood to be calm and happy. I need to include descriptions that subtly build on these themes. The sunshine streamed through the large leaves might be a pretty description, but it has few words relating to youth/light/happy. Whereas the sunlight played along green leaves has more subtle theme words: light, played, green.

2. Be accurate/specific.

This is the straightforward part: I research common trees and birds in the northern Scottish highlands in the June-July months, and narrow down the results. Oak trees are common, but they’re traditionally associated with wisdom and old age. Pine trees are common, but they’re tall and dark and tend to tower over the landscape. Similarly, crows are a common bird but they’re typically used as omens and are large, domineering birds. Hawks are predators. Pigeons are ungainly and more reminiscent of an urban setting. In the end, I choose an aspen tree (pale in colour, tall but not overbearing, slender but sturdy) and a starling (quick on its feet, small, energetic).

This is why the themes of the scene are important. You need to understand not just what you’re describing, but why you’re describing. Descriptions aren’t just decorations; they’re tools to build atmosphere and mood.

3. Make sure all the words match.

Something is still off with my description. I’ve got the specific bits (aspen, starling). I’ve got subtle descriptions of youth/light: young, sunlight, played, green, smooth, flitted, summer. I go through the whole description word by word, and end up stopping at a sentence I’ve written: the bark is smooth and soft as silk.

Soft just doesn’t work when describing a tree. And silk is a word associated with sensuality, indulgence, and luxury — none of which are present in this scene. I think of other options — delicate as tissue paper, or smooth as glass. But delicate and glass both subtly convey fragility, a chance of shattering, breaking, or falling apart — and I don’t want those associations in a scene that’s supposed to be happy and carefree. I spend a while thinking about the possibilities, and eventually settle on smooth and thin as parchment. This eliminates the ill-matched soft while parchment also subtly reminds readers of the setting — James is preparing for his Hogwarts exams.

5. Use all senses.

This is what helps make descriptions so vivid. Look at this description:

He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool shade of the tree. A warm breeze stirred the air lazily. In the distance, he heard the song of a blackbird.”

Compared to:

The tree was large and shady. The air felt warm and pleasant. A breeze briefly stirred the air. A blackbird sang in the distance.

Using senses also helps you avoid that dreaded ‘grocery list’ description: The tree, the air, a breeze, a blackbird.

6. Eliminate unnecessary words.

Most readers get bored very quickly with descriptions. Make it short. In the earlier (bad) example, you’ve got air repeated twice: the air felt warm and pleasant, and a breeze briefly stirred the air. This could easily be combined: a breeze briefly stirred the warm air. I see this a lot, including my own writing. Think critically about your descriptions and what could be removed or combined. You especially want to look out for those vague filler words, too. Pretty, beautiful, lovely, attractive. These words tell the reader nothing. Their idea of beautiful might be very different to yours. Instead, describe what makes something pretty or beautiful.

7. Use manuals and articles sparingly during research.

This is kind of separate from the other bits of advice, since it’s more about authenticity than description. But you asked if I’d read a motorcycle manual for Astra Inclinant — I didn’t, because a manual would have given me very wooden, formal-sounding examples of “motorcycle language”. Instead, I went into online forums to read the casual discussions between motorcycle riders trying to repair their bikes. This gave me very authentic, realistic examples of how people might think or talk during the motorcycle repair scenes. I used more formal sources to understand how motorcycles worked, but I drew on the forums for the dialogue and ‘feel’ of the scenes.

Anyway.

So you can see the thought that goes into word choice and descriptions. In a romantic world, I’d no doubt gaze dreamily into my imagination and then type out a perfect description. Whereas in reality, I begin with “James leaned on a tree” and then spend 30 minutes revising that and frowning at stock images of crows until I get to:

“James leaned against a young aspen tree, and tilted his head back as he listened to Scorpius talk. Beneath his fingers, the bark felt smooth and thin as parchment. Overhead, sunlight played through green leaves. A starling flitted from branch to branch.

He wished this summer would last forever.”

#writing #writing advice #i know its basic but hope it helps #answered asks

[bex-la-get]

Hi! I'm new to tumblr and... can I request a fic where Ethan is the one who ask questions to Nat to test the new fMRI scan, but it is set on book 2 instead. Thank you and I admire your writings!

NONNY!!! I absolutely love this!!! I'm gonna say this takes place in mid-Book 2-ish.

K, before we start, I just wanna throw a disclaimer out there: my memory of Book 2 is fuzzy which means mistakes are likely. Sorry in advance if I get something wrong. Also, I'm not a medical professional, so any mistakes made are my own. Thank you.

Okay, let's go!!

Nat sat on the couch of the Diagnostics Office, absent-mindedly staring out the window and chewing on her lower lip. The last few weeks had been exhausting. Between the news that Edenbrook had lost its funding, Kyra's diagnosis, and the stress of being a Junior Fellow on the DT, it was all beginning to feel like it was too much. She wasn't sure how much more she could take at this point.

"Hey, you okay?" a voice asked.

She turned to the source and found Ethan looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She hadn't even heard him come in. She sat up straight. "Yeah, sorry; just needed to take a break."

"Nat," he said, coming to sit next to her. "It's okay if you're not. You don't have to be 'okay' all the time."

She sighed. "I know."

"What's going on?"

Nat shook her head. "Just... feeling a little overwhelmed is all. With everything going on as it is, it just kind of feels like a little too much."

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I understand. The last few weeks have been... challenging, to say the least." Nat nodded in agreement and he gently ran his fingers along the back of her hand. "I wish I could offer you words of wisdom or at least better advice." He said, smiling sheepishly.

She gave him a small smile. "Just being here for me is enough. Thank you."

He returned her smile and linked his pinky with hers, giving it a tight squeeze. "I don't know if it will provide the distraction you need, but I could use your help with something if you have a few minutes?" Nat nodded. "The fMRI machine went on the fritz about a week ago and I was just told that it's back in working order. I'd like to test it out and make sure that it really is working normally. Care to help me out?"

"Sure," Nat said, "but only if you ask the questions this time. It's only fair since I did it last time."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "Deal."

The two of them made their way to the imaging lab, set Nat up within the machine, then Ethan made his way into the control room. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, boss," Nat replied.

"Good. I presume you remember the drill from last year. I'll ask you some questions and see how your brain responds as you answer."

"Sounds good."

"All right. First question: What is your middle name?"

Nat scoffed over the speakers. "That's your first question?"

"What's wrong with the question?"

"It's boring. I distinctly remember asking you some scandalous questions."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Rookie."

"Fine. Paige."

Ethan pursed his lips. Natalie Paige Cusack. Very pretty. Very her. Tucking this new knowledge into the back of his head he nodded as the scanner showing her brain lit up.

"All right. Next question: do you have any siblings?"

"Ethan, these are questions you can ask me in casual conversation," Nat protested. "Ask me something fun! I thought the point of this was to provide me a distraction, after all."

Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, answer this question while I think of something fun to ask you."

"Deal! In answer to your question, yes. I have an older brother named Victor but everyone calls him Vic. The only time I call him Victor is when he's in trouble."

"And just how often is he in trouble?" Ethan asked, amused. Nat's hippocampus lit up as she thought of her answer and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"When we were kids? All the time," she answered, giggling. "As an adult, less often. Though it still happens."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "All right. Per your request, here's a fun question. What's an embarrassing story from your childhood?"

"Oooh, you went right for the jugular. Respect. I like it. Okay, um... have I ever told you the goblin story?"

"The goblin story?"

She laughed. "Oh, man! You're gonna love this. Okay, so when I was little, I had a pretty big nose. I grew into it as I got older, but when I was little, it wasn't proportional to my face at all." Ethan listened to the story with an amused smile on his face as the scan showed her pregenual anterior cingulate cortex light up during her story.

"One night," she continued, "I stupidly fell asleep with gum in my mouth and woke up with it all in my hair. It was a nightmare."

"Oh no," Ethan said.

"Yep," Nat confirmed. "It was so bad that the only thing we could do was cut as much out of it as possible, which left me with this terrible haircut that, low-key, had me looking like I had been electrified.

"Anyway, Vic's knee-jerk response at seeing me with my short hair and big nose was to promptly call me goblin. And the stupid nickname stuck! He still calls me it even though it was over twenty years ago!" She paused in her storytelling, expecting to hear a response but heard nothing instead. "Ethan? Are you there? You better not have left!"

The speakers turned on and all she heard was his laughter. "Are you laughing?! Ethan!"

Ethan tried to speak through his laughter. "I'm sorry, I sympathize, really." He laughed again and Nat rolled her eyes.

"You are the worst, you know that?" she told him.

"Sorry Nat," he said, finally getting his laughter under control. "I'm sure you made a very cute goblin."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Ugh, just ask your next question, Ramsey."

He chuckled again and thought for a moment when a question appeared in the back of his mind. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't ask it. It wasn't exactly professional and went against the reset rule he initiated.

But he had enjoyed getting to know more about Nat and he was curious. “Tell me about your first kiss.”

“Trying to figure out how I got such high standards?” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to trigger an emotional response in your brain. Go.”

She giggled. “Hmm.. first kiss. Um, it was my first boyfriend, Matt. I was a Freshman in high school and he kissed me during the slow dance at our Homecoming dance.”

Her limbic system lit up on the scanner. “Sounds romantic,” he mused, pushing down the surge of jealousy he felt at the thought Nat kissing another man, even if it had been when she was significantly younger.

“Mm, not really. He wasn’t really good at it. He was kind of slobbery, if I’m being honest.”

Ethan scrunched up his face. “Gross.”

“Very,” she confirmed.

“Last question,” he said. He knew this was approaching risky territory but damn it, if Nat didn’t make him want to throw every one of his morals and rules right out the window. And, if he were honest... he really wanted to hear the answer to this question. “What was the best kiss you’ve ever had?”

“Hmm...” she hummed in thought for a long moment, Ethan’s heart pounding as he waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke. “New Year’s Eve, 2017.”

Ethan’s heart sunk. “Oh? Why then?”

“My ex-boyfriend was moving. He had accepted a position at one of the National Labs in New Mexico and I knew I was staying on the East Coast so we split. When the Ball dropped at midnight, he gave me a goodbye kiss. Then he got in a moving van the next day and moved across the country.”

Her amygdala lit up like a Christmas Tree and Ethan frowned. Clearly that memory was still fresh for her. “That’s enough questions, Nat. I think we’ve done our job here.” 

Ethan stopped the machine and met Nat back in the lab as she stood up. Ethan had been prepared for Nat to be sad after that last story but instead, he found her smiling up at him. “That was fun. I needed that.”

“You needed to be put into a giant metal machine and have your brain looked at?” Ethan asked.

She lightly hit his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Her smile grew, making Ethan’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate the distraction.”

“I’m glad it helped,” he said, returning her smile.

“Well, I better go make my rounds,” she said as she began to make her way out of the lab. 

“Hey, Nat,” Ethan called. In a flash, he grabbed her hand, pulled her back to him, and cupped her face with his hands, giving her a searing kiss. Nat made a quiet noise of surprise at Ethan’s gesture but quickly melted into the kiss, her lips matching his fervor. His hands moved from her face to her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, her arms circling around his neck as if to hold him in place. 

Neither knew how long they stood there. It could have been hours, days, even years. It didn’t matter; they didn’t care. In that moment, all they cared about was each other and they both hoped that the moment, however long it may have been, never ended.

But alas, eventually they broke apart at the sound of Nat’s pager beeping. Their lips separated, but neither moved very far apart, as they both fought to catch their breath. Ethan’s eyes were still closed, his forehead resting against hers as Nat opened her eyes. She nuzzled her nose against his and sucked in a breath when his blue eyes opened, locking with hers.

“What was all that for?” she asked in a whisper. 

He smiled sheepishly. “I may have taken slight offence as not being your best kiss ever.”

She pulled away slightly to look at him better, a giggle on her lips. “Did you get jealous after hearing about my ex?”

“No,” he retorted, defensively.

This time, she laughed. “You did! I can’t believe it, Ethan Ramsey got jealous. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. She leaned in close again and placed another chaste kiss on his lips. “But don’t worry, Ethan. You have nothing to worry about.” She pulled out of their embrace as her pager beeped again (thankfully it was just a notification that her latest lab test results were in and not an emergency). “I’ve had some much better kisses since then. One of them, in this very room.”

Ethan smirked. “Glad to hear I made the running.”

She returned his smirk. “You also might be interested to know, I was lying. That New Year’s kiss was best kiss I’ve ever had. But it was beat by a mysterious tall doctor on a balcony in Miami last year. You might remember him; he was a bit of a risk taker, that one.”

He chuckled. “He sounds familiar, I admit.”

“I hope he comes back,” she said as she made her way out of the room. “His kisses are mind-blowing.” She winked at him as she finished her statement then sauntered out of the room, leaving a smirking Ethan, shaking his head, behind.

Tag list below the cut:

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed):  @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter​ @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart​ @ohchoices​ @maurine07​ @oldminniemcg​ @parisa-kh​ @shanzay44​ @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer​ @adiehardfan​ @custaroonie​ @mia143​ @a-crepusculo​ @takemyopenheart​ @toadfrog26​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @barbean​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @crazy-loca-blog @dorisz

#bex answers #asked and answered #anonymous asks #anonymous prompts #ethan ramsey #natalie cusack #ethan x natalie #ethan x mc #open heart mc

[sweetasteriaa]

This is a long one...

My colleague's question (What use is The Gospel of Thomas if you're simply reading your own experience into those cryptic sayings?) also clarified that for many of us, the "use" of such poetic and mysterious word is precisely that we may discover our own experience in them. Many of us read them as we might read the Bible, the Koran, the Sutras, or the poems that we love - not primarily for whatever they meant in the past, or for whoever wrote them down, but for what they might mean for us today.

What we're looking for may not be anything supernatural, as we usually understand what we call "spiritual." Instead, as one saying in Thomas suggests, we may find what we're seeking right where we are: "Jesus says: 'Recognize what is before your eyes, and the mysteries will be revealed to you."" Like Emily Dickinson's poems, such sayings remain opaque as stone to anyone who has not experienced anything like what they describe; but those who have find that they open secret doors within us. And because they do, what each person find there may be - must be - different. Each time we read them, the words may weave like music into a particular situation, evoking new insight. Some secret texts calm and still us, as when listening in meditation; others abound in metaphor, flights of imagination, soaring and diving.

During the years that followed, as I explored other texts from Nag Hammadi, I have found others, too, that strike me powerfully, and nurture hope. The Poem called Thunder, Complete Mind, for example, echoes how, for countless ages, people have heard thunder as a divine voice. But instead of envisioning the Lord Zeus speaking in thunder, as Greeks did, or Israel's God, as Jewish and Christian poets and prophets did, this poem personifies thunder - bronte, a feminine word in Greek - as a feminine power. Speaking in paradox, her voice confounds those who expect clarity, and frustrates those who need certainty. Here she declares that the divine presence, often unseen, shines everywhere, in all people, whether they live in palaces or garbage dumps, embracing all that we are. And instead of seeing the divine only in positive attributes like wisdom, holiness, and power, Thunder presses us to envision divine energy with our "complete mind," even in terms of negative experiences like foolishness, shame, and fear, as this short excerpt from the poem shows:

I am the first and the last

I am the one who is honored, and the one scorned

I am the whore and the holy one...

I am the incomprehensible silence, and...the voice of many sounds, the word in many forms;

I am the utterance of my name...

Do not cast anyone out, or turn anyone away...

I am the one who remains, and the one who dissolves;

I am she who exists in all fear, and strength in trembling.

I am she who cries out...

I am cast forth on the face of the earth...

i am the sister of my husband, and he is my offspring...

but he is the one who gave birth to me...

I am the incomprehensible silence and the thought often remembered...

I am the one who has been hated everywhere,

and who has been loved everywhere.

I am the one they call Life, and you have called Death.

I am the one whose image is great in Egypt,

and the one who has no image among barbarians...

I prepare the bread and my mind within;

I am the knowing of my name.

Whoever sang, chanted, or wrote Thunder wove Jewish, Egyptian, and Greek images into a single, complex pattern. One scholar, noting allusions to the Genesis creation story, suggested that the speaker is Eve, since some of these paradoxical lines allude to her Hebrew name, "Life," while Jewish and Christian sources accuse her of bringing death into the world ("I am the one they call Life, and you have called Death") But rather than identifying the divine voice exclusively with Eve, this anonymous poet mentions her only as one of multiple forms through which this divine presence reveals herself. For as the next line suggests, the poet has adopted the form of a hymn to Isis, Egypt's divine protector, "she who is great in Egypt," praising her as another of thunder's countless manifestations. Noting that she "has no image among the barbarians," this poet, perhaps Greek or Egyptian, likely alludes to Jews, who startled their pagan neighbors by banishing feminine images from their visions of God. And it may have been women who especially delighted in Thunder, for even today, contemporary women artists including Leslie Marmon Silko, Toni Morrison, Julie Dash, and Kara walker have loved this ancient poem and incorporated it into their own creative visions.

~Elaine Pagels - Why Religion? A Personal Story

The whole of the poem Thunder, Perfect Mind, can be read in the link below. It's long, but it's really fucking fantastic. I've been reading about religion from a more scholarly approach instead of a faith based one, and it is much more interesting and palatable this way.

#books #quotes #why religion #elaine pagels #religion #thunder perfect mind #thunder complete mind #feminine divinity

[tsvestidiabolus]

the melody never changes

commission for @snurps

➵ my COMMISSIONS are open!

SUMMARY:  Robin's reflection on their newest crewmate, from Thriller Bark to Fishman Island, and Brook's growth from solitude to rockstar.

WORDCOUNT: 2529

CHARACTERS: Brook & Nico Robin

ALSO FOUND AT: ao3

Thank you for the commission!  I had a blast writing for Brook and Robin.  Theirs is a friendship that is immensely underrated.

To the charming skeleton gentleman,

First off, I’m afraid I must deny your inevitable request to see my panties.  I have self-respect, and I don’t think they would suit you.  Secondly, while we are not currently crewmates, our captain has declared you as part of the Straw Hats, and you’ll find him to be very persuasive.  Doubtless we’ll be spending more time together in the future.  In order to give you a warm welcome to the crew, I’ve decided to write a personal letter from me to you.  Partly because I know how it feels coming into this ship as a newcomer, and partly because I’m frankly interested in you.

As an archaeologist, of course.

We’ve recovered the three strongest of our crew, and those who were in the crew all the way back in the East Blue seemed to recognise the whale you mentioned.  It’s funny how life turns out that way - coincidences upon coincidences, friends meeting with friends again.  He’s called Laboon, right?  I certainly hope you’ll introduce me to him when we arrive at Twin Cape.

Nami is calling out to the crew - I believe she wants us to plan before we inevitably scrap any semblance of strategy and enter the main castle again - so I’ll have to cut this short.  If we somehow don’t survive and our mangled corpses rot on the island, which would be a shame, I’d have to hope this letter finds its way to you.

From,

Nico Robin

---

“Yohoho!”

Even now, despite all the hardships and suffering the crew had gone through in the past day, Brook laughed.  Such a melodic sound - one could almost mistake it for a song - yet it carried with it fifty years worth of promises.

The pirates were spread out across the castle of Thriller Bark, exhausted from their ordeal (yet at the moment that Luffy would shout it’s time for a party, they would be bouncing with energy) and taking their time to rest.  Some of them had been tending to their wounds with the help of Chopper, while others decided to help out those who’d been lost for years.  The Straw Hats in particular were fretting with worry over Zoro, even though they all were confident in his survival.

Brook practically danced past most of the Straw Hats, tipping his skull to those he passed by, before he settled right in front of the archaeologist of the crew, her nose stuck in a book.  Robin flipped to the next page of her novel, making no indication that she had noticed his arrival.  

“Ah, Miss Robin -”

“If you’re about to ask to see my panties, I’ll have to say no,” said Robin.  

Brook laughed. “Well, it was worth a shot!  But that’s not the reason I’m here.”

Her eyes never leaving the page, Robin arched a brow, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. “Oh?”  

“I wanted to give my thanks.  You’ve made me feel welcome to the ship already.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Robin said, smiling.

“Yohoho!  I’ve never felt so honoured to call someone so beautiful a friend!”

With a tip of his hat, and a blank eyeless stare for a brief moment (which Robin later found out was Brook attempting to wink), Brook danced away from her, his skeletal legs skittling across the ground.  It was almost inhumane, the amount of speed the man carried in his light body, but then again their crew was full of monsters.  A living skeleton was far from the most terrifying thing in their crew.

As for the most terrifying thing?

Brook was bound to discover, sooner or later. 

---

To Brook,

Music has no language; it cannot be misinterpreted.  One strum of a guitar can tell a thousand stories and a thousand promises.  One beat of the drum speaks of a hundred wars.  One note of a violin can sing a song of sorrow in the drifting seas of time.  It is the one universal truth.

I see you sometimes, when I’m on watch duty, humming a solo that sounds so… lonely, and so melancholic, that it takes all of my effort not to climb down the mast and join you.  But I am a coward, so I leave you alone to your own devices.  To that, I am sorry.

How lonely must you have been, drifting alone on those waters for fifty years.  Only with your thoughts and determination to keep you going.  I’m amazed you can still smile, despite that (at least, I assume you’re smiling. It would be pretty strange for you to laugh without smiling).  In fact, I admire you.  And while I’m sure my words would have a better effect for you if I said them aloud, as I said before - I’m a coward.  It’s easier for me to write this down in ink.

But yet, you were on the cusp of madness, and you persevered.  You lived.  Sort of.

And to that, I want to know more.

Please, tell me your story.

From your crewmate,

Nico Robin.

---

Quietly, as the eve turned to night and the night to the dead hour, Robin slipped down the ladder from the mast.  It was Zoro’s turn now to keep watch, and she knew the swordsman would be perceptive enough to protect them in the instance of danger, despite his injuries and constant napping.  But it was not yet time to sleep, for as usual their newly appointed musician was out by his lonesome in the night, a gentle lul of the violin playing a song that reminded her of Ohara.  The song was enough to drift the boys and Nami to sleep, and Robin would have dozed off to the melody had she not felt so lonely just from the strings alone.  But it was not her loneliness that made her feel this way - she had long since accepted she was part of this crew.  That she wasn’t alone anymore.

It was Brook’s.

So, once she was safely down on the lawn of the Sunny, she joined him by the railing, leaning against the wood while he continued his solo.  His skeletal hands played the tune delicately, and in time she hummed along to it.  The nostalgia washed over her like a wave.  She closed her eyes and imagined Ohara again.  She could only imagine what Brook was thinking of.

As the last notes of the melody rang out and the song stopped, Robin opened her eyes and smiled at Brook.  He bowed his head back, setting the violin down the grass.

“Is that song known outside the West Blue?” she asked. “I’ve only ever heard it there.”

“It’s a West Blue classic!” Brook exclaimed. “Well, I say it’s a classic.  It was written by yours truly!”

Robin blinked.

“I would’ve like to tweak it before I left, but sadly there was no time.  The original music sheet must be lost as well!  I must rely on my ears now to complete it - but alas, I have no ears!  Yohoho!  Skull jo-”

“You’re from the West Blue?”

It certainly came as a surprise - after all, a majority of their crew had come from the East or the Grand Line, and she had no idea there was someone else onboard the ship that hailed from the West.  Even if he was the most recent addition.  Robin felt her curiosity peak up the more Brook revealed about himself.  His past was becoming more and more of a mystery to her, a clash between his demeanor and his tragedy.

Brook nodded his head in response, his afro bouncing as he did. “I served a royal kingdom there for sometime before I decided piracy was a better career.  Of course, I was a musician as well!”

She imagined him flashing her a grin.

“But yes, West Blue, born and raised - ah!  Miss Robin, if I recall correctly, you were from the West too, no?” he asked.

“That’s correct.”

“May I ask which is-”

“Ohara.”

She definitely said that too quickly, with too much of a snap in her tongue, that Brook paused and gave her enough time to regret it.  Before she could utter an apology, Brook picked up the bow of his violin and held it out to her.  Naturally, she was confused.  

Brook bowed his head down.

“I understand if you do not wish to talk about it,” he says. “I can assume from personal experience a deep tragedy has occurred there.”

Still, he held out the bow. 

“But know that Ohara is wonderful, and that its legacy - whatever that may be - is you.”

Curious, Robin took the bow and inspected it.  It seemed ordinary enough.  She couldn’t understand what Brook was -

Prof. Clover

Without realising, her hand had begun trembling from the overwhelming everything coming over her, and she looked up to Brook with glistening eyes.  The musician panicked.

“Miss Robin, I - I’m dreadfully sorry!” he sputtered. “I didn’t mean to upset you!  I merely - I wanted to explain that tragedies don’t have to - I’m sorry!”

“You knew the professor?” She was surprised she could manage to get even that out. “You knew Ohara?”

A relieved sigh passed through his nonexistent lips. “I stayed there for a couple years, back when I was a young man.  This violin was a parting gift from my dear friend at the time.  He’d just gotten his doctorate, and I think he wanted to show off.  Yohoho!”

Robin chuckled, wiping away a tear. 

“Ah!  But of course, this explains why you know my song!” Brook exclaimed. “Miss Robin, I knew I felt a kinship for you when I boarded this ship.  Us both being from the West Blue gives me a sense of familiarity in the crew.  I’ve never been more grateful to be alive - ah!  But I’m not alive!  Yohoho, skull joke!”

Robin was amazed, not for the first time, that Brook could joke and even dare to imply that she was the one being welcoming, when here he was, passing on Robin wisdom that she took twenty years to even consider.  It was often easy to forget that Brook had thirty years of experience out on the sea before the tragedy of the Rumbar Pirates occurred, but it was clear that those years were enough to sharpen the man’s mind and strengthen his heart.  But his heart was not made of stone, nor iron - it was laid out bare to the world, soft and beating, and his gentle lullabies sung of sorrows from his past that he dare not speak of.

So, she leaned against the railing, a slight smile gracing her lips. “Please, tell me more stories.”

And so he did.

---

Be alive.

---

She’d written the message in the dirt of the prison, pleading with whatever divine powers existed to ensure that the rest of her crew had lived.

After all, Brook owed her a concert.  One that would declare to the World that he was alright despite all the pain he’d been through.  That humans were resilient.

He’d better keep that promise.\

---

To Brook,

I do not expect this message to reach you.  The Government is constantly attempting to interfere with letters from the RA, and no doubt they’ll be trying to decipher any clues about their plans in this message (good luck, cowards).

It’s been almost two years already.  No doubt we will meet each other again soon.  I’ve been looking forward to this immensely, as no doubt you have too.  I think - I understand you, a little more.  Now that I’ve been infected with the Straw Hats’ boundless enthusiasm and joy, I can understand how you lived in isolation for all that time.  Not just because of the promise you kept to Laboon, but because dying would be spitting on their smiles, right?

Can you hear the waves crash against the shore where you are?  Do you hear seagulls, do you smell the salt?

Can you see the moon?

One day we’ll meet again.  I look forward to that day.

From Robin.

P.S. I keep hearing about this new rockstar that some of the Revolutionaries are raving about.  You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?

---

It wasn’t a soft strum that the bony hand had passed over the strings, yet it was strangely nostalgic all the same.  No, it was a thunderous sound, booming across the concert hall and somehow could be heard over the screams of adoring fans.  It was unlike anything Robin had ever heard before.  No - she never felt anything like this before.  The vibrations shook her very body, making her suddenly aware of the blood rushing through her veins, of her heart pounding against her chest.  The feeling was exhilarating.

She stared from the back of the concert hall to the star of the show.  As always, his feathered boa and skeleton-figure was instantly recognisable, as was his laugh.

“Soul King Brook, hm?” she whispered under her breath.  She couldn’t hear herself over the sound of the music.

There was something different about his music now.  She would have to ask him if he changed his muse.  Later, perhaps.

Now, it was time to find the Sunny.

---

It wasn’t hard to find Brook after the battle at Fishman Island.  Where there were cheers and melodies, there was Brook.  Robin waited by an alley, listening to the sound of Brook’s guitar as he sang a victory song for the pirates.  The tune was new, unlike anything she had ever heard before.  But there was a certain gentleness to it, despite the upbeat and heart-pounding vibrations it made.  Like Brook was unleashing happiness to the world.

When the imprupto-concert was over, and Robin could finally approach Brook, he tipped his hat and stared blankly at her.  She assumed he was grinning.

“Miss Robin!  Did you enjoy the show?” he asked. “I wasn’t sure about this song, but it looks to be a hit with the crowd!  Yohoho!”

Robin smiled back. “It was happy,” she noted.

“Mmhm!” he said. “It was inspired by our captain.”

“Luffy?” 

Brook nodded. “I suppose that’s why you picked up on the feelings I was conveying.  It’s an honour to sail under his flag, don’t you think?”  His voice took on a melancholic tone. “I would’ve never expected to find such a crew years ago.”

Neither did she.

“Are you happy, Brook?” Robin asked.  The question had just slipped out, but she was curious to know the answer.  

Brook looked at her, tilting his head. “Of course I am, Miss Robin.  How could I create such a song if I weren’t?”

Robin paused for a moment, before nodding her head slowly.  It made sense.  Brook’s music reflected his feelings at the time.  And now, as part of the Straw Hats, his tune had become one much like their captain’s.

“Now, shall we return to the party?” Brook said. “I’m sure Luffy would want to hear this too.”

Not a thing could crush Brook’s spirit.  Not being alone, not despair, not even death.  

He was alive, and he was happy, and he would make sure the world knew.

Robin couldn’t be more proud to call him a crewmate.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #brook #nico robin #one piece commission #writing commission #commission #;; ooc #my fics #nakamaship #writing commissions #commissions open

[helahades]

the sexiest wip list

alright! reminder that this is a dark fic blog. dark fics are not just noncon, but uncomfortable subject matter and questionable thought processes and unreliable povs. control your media experience and read warnings carefully! they’ll be updated when the actual story releases, but these are wips, and i don’t know them all bc I simply have not finished these stories!

some darker warnings on this list include: threats of sexual violence, obsession, death, and previously mentioned unreliable povs from obsessive characters who justify themselves.

final reminder to read warnings! some of these are intense.

1) Jealous Thor (Untitled)

warnings: cheating, mean!reader, angst

You’re falling for Steve right under his nose. Each day, Thor feels you pull farther away. Each night, he squeezes his eyes shut as you lie asleep next to him, and tries to forget the way you lookat Steve these days with hunger and adoration that you once gave to him.

“He is earthly. For all his body’s and mind’s possession of unnatural experimental growth, he is earthly and limited, so Thor can’t understand why you’re drawing away from him, and telling Steve the jokes, giving Steve all the looks that had him hooked. The lingering eyes and touches… they ride the line of decency.”

—

2) Heimdall Angst (Untitled)

warnings: major character death, grief, existentialism, out of body experiences

Connected by incredible wisdom and duty to fate, you and The Gatekeeper of Asgard are pulled together by the unique pairing of your mutual seeing abilities—made for greatness, and destined for tragedy.

This story stretches from the moment that catalyzes your meeting, across the years of loving him, to the moment you lose him.

“A fateful tragedy. He sees an arrow through a dove.

He wonders how he missed your encounter with him in the whispers of the cosmos.

“—They’re star deaths,” you say abruptly, “the ones that move and change color. They speed up when you watch them—show their whole life to come...I read about them. Most can’t ever see them life this”.

Turning to where you stand beside him, his eyes swirl with the magic of knowing you, of your destinies combined. He sees you stare at his stars like they’re new.

“Only us.”

—

3) Away from the Party - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, dubcon, roughness, manipulation, unintentional exhibition

Steve hates these parties. After a mission, the work has just begun, and he fumes at the impossible way that Tony covers all problems in diamonds and pearls. Some things aren’t meant to be pretty.

You are. You’re soft, and kind, and you coax him gently away from the party—the source of his frustrations, with promises of leaving early, of calming down. Oh. He’ll calm down. And you’re just the toy to help. In a closet a corner away from the government’s finest, America’s golden boy has a hand on your throat and one demand.

“Keep quiet.”

“Of course, you both ended up at the party anyway, but with you swirling cool fingertips at his aching temples and rubbing softly over the stretch marks on his chest, he couldn’t find anything in heart to disagree with you then.

Even now with his erection pressed to you through barriers of clothing, with scarcely retrained and monstrous lust, he is steadily calmed by your presence. This rush, the secrecy—it excites him. And you pull him through the haze of it.”

—

4) Monster Thor Headcanons

warnings: wound and gore descriptions, some sadness

The fantasy of it all. Aesthetic, Lifestyle, Behavior. Some talking points include: hair, horns, hints about how he was influenced by a soft and charming lover many years ago, general horniness. Also spoiler that I’ve decided that He is 8ft tall

“Thor is...ancient. he is a being of war and folklore and raw energy and he’s earthy and elemental and connected. and form follows function. (and also whatever horny thoughts we want )”

—

5) The Call

warnings: voyeurism, death threats, obsession, implied sexual assault threats

When Frank comes to visit you, you beam like a sunflower. You’ve rearranged your room, and you’re excited about it. He would like to revel in the moment with you...but he’s caught up in one detail. Your bed is pushed against the window...and he can’t convince you to let him move it.

After a night of sin and wild lovemaking, you lie asleep bathed in moonlight, and Frank wakes to a call. Billy. He’s set up on a rooftop miles away, and he’s got things to say about Frank’s girl and what he’d like to do to her. A red dot on his chest means he can only listen. To your gentle snoring, and to the twisted fantasy of a brother unhinged.

“Black silk pajamas. Hair wrapped up in satin. Yellow light almost like sun stretches to the ceiling, but not quite over the rolling hills of your silhouette turned away from him in quiet sleep.

Frank’s hardly got the time to wonder why he’s awake, because his phone buzzes slow again. Pulls the moment he realizes he will have to break this magic peace to molasses and he half fills his lungs before huffing it out and flipping the phone open and tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“What.”

“She’s a reaaaaal pretty one, Frankie boy. You sure know how to pick em.”

—

6) Loki Longing (Untitled)

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, angst

On the Eve of the birth of Asgard’s heir, Thor is away. In a bath of flowers and magic to ease your pain, maidens worry over you, and Loki rescues you away, letting you rest in bed, and dreaming of the days when you were his lover instead.

“I’d like to rest…in my bed now, please.”

The ladies look to each other. It hasn’t been long enough for the herbs to take effect.

“My Queen,” the eldest starts—

“She is certainly your queen,” a silky silver timbre interrupts, “I’ve learned it’s best to mind her.”

His eyes fall to your form, and some blocked conflict—some guarded affection rests there. Some longing tucked in a pocket like an impossible secret.

—

7) With Child - Obsessive Steve

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, obsessive Steve

Watching you content, and very pregnant, as you gaze adoringly at your husband Thor from where you rest, half in his lap, Steve can’t help but fantasize. He thinks about impregnating you, the mechanics of sex with a pregnant woman, and being the god who does it all.

“Do you have to lie on your side? Is Thor just behind you, spooning you, fucking with desperate thrusts because you drive him so crazy this way? Steve has heard—and he doesn’t know where—that women get wetter when with child. Steve can’t help but wonder...does Thor need to hold one leg up for you—to save your back that’s so often heavy with the weight of supporting his legacy?”

—

8) Dean’s Girl

warnings: unreliable pov (john), voyeurism, masturbation + voyeurism

John notices the way you avoid him. You always seem to leave a room just as he’s coming into it. He’s living in the bunker now, and having to realize a lot of things that have changed for the both of his sons.

For example, his oldest, the last he’d ever think would fall in love, has got a pretty girl that dismisses her practical father in law with pointed boredom. She’s protective—how can he blame her after all that he’d put Dean through?

She’s pretty, and John is only a man, and can’t stop himself from just...looking. It starts with a convenient bend as she unloads the dishwasher...then he..can’t help that the door was open and she happened to be changing right there. He also can’t help it the next time when he’s just a little too obvious, pleasuring himself to the smell of her pretty lace panties.

—

9) Operator, Operator - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, financial troubles?, mentions of creepiness against and danger to sex workers, exhibitionism via phone call

Underpaid and overworked, you along with your roommate/secret crush/ best friend Steve have trouble making ends meet on minimum wage + his art commissions. When you start picking up calls on a phone sex line, he’s able to reason. It’s quick cash, and Steve is mature enough to keep his thoughts appropriate...at first.

One day, he wakes to the sound of breathy moans and a faked orgasms. He wonders how you would sound if only you were high on real pleasure...and there’s no time like the present. Don’t hang up. This call has only just started.

“By the time this year—junior year—swung around, Steve realized he was only catching glimpses of you. He would hear the shake of your keys when you tossed them on the counter, your backpack when it thudded to the floor, and most recently—your moans.

You must not know he’s home. Ever since you started online sex work, specifically being a phone sex operator, you seemed to also make the silent choice that more graphic calls would be saved for when he’s not around.

He gets it. You both split the rent, and Steve has done jobs he’d rather not mention in desperate times, when commissions came short. Still, sometimes you can’t tell when he’s here, and despite his best efforts to push down his arousal, to tell himself you’re his best friend...he’s an artist, and he can’t help but listen, and certainly not the wandering of his imagination.”

—

10) Professor Steve Medfet - (Untitled)

In an alternate timeline, a washed up Steve Rogers starts a new life in a run down city as an art / anatomy teacher. A class of hungry college students is filled to the brim each year, expecting the unspoken promise of their favorite hands on lab. You.

You keep his class sated, in turn giving the professor job security for funding his simple life out of the public eye. Each year when he calls, you come. Each year the students find a new way to tear you embarrass and degrade, much to the pleasure of the professor.

“Same speech. Same meaningless words. Focusing on the stillness of your skin and how it feels to be alone, you can almost drown out the way his tone edges toward excitement, the way the chairs shift and squeak—the anticipation.

Pretending your heart doesn’t send heat and cold flashes through you and run your breathing shallow, you look at the nicks in the door and try to guess their stories.

But then the metal frame clicks, the door unlatches. Professor Rogers wears a gentle smirk. It doesn’t ease your mind one bit.”

—

11) Swelter - Forest God Thor

warnings: sexual scenes, time limited conflict, religious themes

With a sickness overtaking nearby villages, yours is next, and has decided to sacrifice you to the cause of foraging for preventative herbs. You venture into the ancient woods after a rare vine of flowers, but leave with much more after encountering Thor.

After disturbing him where he lies cooling in the bank of a stream, you vow to prove the true intention of your soul—that you aren’t a hunter, or witch after his form or faculty, but a pious girl, also needing to escape the heat.

“You’re in the old woods now, and aside from the trees and the mossy nature tangled around them, there is only Him. Thor.

God of the harvest, bringer of land’s wealth, fertility, and vitality. You know of the sacrifices, of the woods where He is rumored to live in an unseen form, of livid white fire in the sky if He is severely displeased.

His name must not be spoken outside of prayer or ritual, and even now, you stutter to think it, and wonder if you are alone in your thoughts.”

[...]

“The frustration and the fear in your dilemma disturb the air, disquieting the otherwise enduring peace of the old woods, which rouses a large form in the cool muddy bank of the stream. It is only leaves shifting at first. Faded pumpkin and dried oak scatter—and suddenly the air smells like rain and your mouth sets around the tastes of copper and sage. Then, the leaves tumble off of a beast of a mass that rises slowly, and you note that it felt like the atmosphere changed to accommodate its awakening.”

—

12) Halloween Party - Thor Smut (Untitled)

warnings: smut, heartbreak, depressed!reader

An exclusive and mysterious Halloween party is still on this year—and you’re invited. It’s meant to be so extravagant and flashy an Avenger will one day attend, and all attendees decorate themselves in costumes inspired by the heroes, hoping to be noticed.

Fresh after a breakup with your boyfriend Brock, you take one half of the preordered couples costume and dress up as a goddess, determined to have a good night with your friends, find some excitement, and most importantly, a new god to match.

“Standing solemn, floor to ceiling windows allow in a few milky rays reflected by the moon, but they’re all the gems of your bodice need to gleam to a suitor's eye. Tonight, while you plan to rid your soul of another, you are welcomed with open arms and careful consideration as the final offering at an altar. You are seen by a god.”

—

13) Grief

warnings: dead!reader, guilt, grief, scary science, how do i say this... smut that is borderline necroph—there’s a replica of you, dark!steve, tony lives, pepper dies

Steve’s world is upside down. He’s lost the light of his life, and is completely in the dark. Luckily for him, Tony is back in the business of reality rejecting technology, and has found a way for him to be with you again.

At an abandoned cottage, Steve brings an armful of your scents to give the Tony’s invention sensory data, and faces the strange reality of what’s always been his worst stage...his worst trait. Denial.

“Dozens of test bottles full of manufactured scents, the kind of thing you smell borrowing a sweater, or with your face in the crook of someone’s neck. Essentially, the sort of organic thing that cannot be recaptured.

Steve’s got an armful of perfume and body wash. Of conditioner and deodorant, of all the elements he can think that make you smell the way you would—the way you do.

He wills the thoughts to be present tense. If he pretends you are alive, maybe it will look like it is you only sleeping. He wonders how well Tony knows the texture of your hair suddenly, because if it isn’t right, the experience will fall to shambles. It currently walks a plank over shambles. One wrong interpretation or surprise, and Steve will find himself spinning and burning with the fall into a new and uncharted taboo.”

14) Night Drive - Dean Smut

warnings: road head

On a long overnight drive, your back pressed into the seat of the impala makes you miss lying in bed with your lover, makes you miss his gentle caress right next to you...so you remind him how good it is to be close.

“You think about it when he hums a little tune. When he hums the song he wishes would play and thinks will come up next, it is eerily soft, and eerily similar to the soft contentment he sighs when you kiss on his neck.

When he reaches for your hand to hold, it makes you consider the shortness of the distance between you, and you think of pulling his cock out right here, giving him head that melts him here on this endless road.

Looking at him, he senses your interest—he turns his head to meet your eyes, throws up a grin of boyish charm. He’s happy to be here with you. These night drives are fine. He’s never minded them. But they’re even lovelier when in your company.”

—

15) Shadow - The Bucky Mystery

warnings: stalking, injury, sexual assault, canon typical hydra torture, mentions of bucky being forced to assault people, traumatized reader

On the run from Hydra, there aren’t many things that Bucky can remember. Inside his mind, there aren’t many feelings that make sense. Mostly, he feels guilt. Horror.

Following you to the gym where you practice ballet alone in the nights is all that makes sense, and for reasons he can’t explain, he feels drawn to you.

As time goes on, Bucky feels more enticed by his desire, you start to feel eyes staring from the walls, motivations and traumas are revealed, and in a horrible symphony, you both remember your connection.

“He’s a matte shadow against the noir shine of metal walls—an observer in the unlit quiet on his side of the room.

And he feels his unimportance. It’s humbling. Holds up the room like chunky beams and high rafters, dressed in the same layered neutrals. Framing the same cotton candy dancer, silent as the pad of her slippers when she turns her weight onto a straight leg, other coming up with her ankle pointed to the bend of her knee.

She spins, she spins and she whips her head around with each one, but it’s Bucky who gets dizzy.”

send an ask with any questions, or for more details about a particular story!

#which wip #follower poll #future fic hints #update

[justfinishedreading]

The Diary of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain

Spoilers (Sort of)

Before reading this book I had never read anything by Mark Twain, but I had heard that he was a great comedic writer and I was looking forward to my first experience of his writing. The Diary of Adam and Eve is his somewhat comedic and satirical version of the biblical legend, told in diary entry form, alternating between Adam and Eve. It’s important to explain that The Diary of Adam and Eve is not actually a single work of fiction; during his lifetime Mark Twain wrote seven short texts on the theme of Adam and Eve, published in different literary journals. These texts focus on different ideas within the context of the legend and do not always follow the same storyline or describe the same events in a consistent way.

The first text contains ‘Extracts from Adam’s Diary’ and ‘Eve’s Diary’, we’re first introduced to Adam (of course), he talks about the arrival of a curious and chatty creature who calls herself Eve. Adam is a solemn and territorial recluse; his diary entries are brief and mostly talk about how annoyed he is that Eve keeps hanging around him and thwarting his frequent attempts to run away. It is Eve who introduces the word “We” to Adam, before her, the possibility of the concept of a collective never occurred to him.

Eve’s diary entries are much longer and philosophical, in them she questions the existence of the creatures in the garden of Eden, their nature, and her own existence and feelings. She examines lions and tigers and tells Adam she believes their teeth look like they were designed for killing and consuming flesh, yet these animals currently eat grass and flowers. Adam tells her that animals killing each other would bring Death to the garden, which is something that has not yet happened. Eve’s observation is telling us that if animals were already “designed” this way, to inflict death, then it is with the anticipation of an event the creator already knows will happen. According to the Bible, Disease, Pain and Death were released onto the world once Eve and Adam ate the forbidden fruit, however if God’s world was already designed and created in preparation for such an event, was it ever Eve and Adam’s fault for disobeying an order given by a being who already knew the order would be disobeyed? With time recluse Adam warms up to Eve, although he doesn’t seem to have many redeeming qualities, one thing I will say for Adam is that I don’t recall him ever even thinking about blaming Eve for their “downfall”.

There are some amusing scenes in this first set of texts, for example Eve gives birth to Abel while Adam is away travelling, when he comes back Eve explains nothing and Adam is perplexed by the baby and keeps trying to conduct experiments on it. He is also obsessed with trying to capture another one from the wild. Twain gives both Adam and Eve a child-like wonder and amazement at the world and entertains us with stories of Eve trying to fetch stars from the night sky and wondering who stole them when day approaches.

Eve is convinced that she is some sort of experiment. The way the story of Adam and Eve is interpreted is usually that Adam was made in God’s image, God then took a rib from Adam and made Eve, therefore Adam is closer to God, and Eve is somewhat inferior because she is a copy of a copy. But if we think about what happens with anything that is created, the first creation is never the best version, usually with each new creation it is better than the last, it is improved. In this light we can view Eve not inferior to Adam but superior.

Eve tells us that she sometimes acts silly, or she conceals things from Adam in order to save him from feeling embarrassment, she realizes that he lacks some of the abilities she has and she does certain things to dumb herself down in order to not hurt his pride. This is something many women can relate to, myself included: needing to tip-toe around some men who have fragile egos and high tempers, this is one of the amazing things about this text, it was written a century ago, and by a man, and yet it is refreshingly feminist. We’re currently going through another feminist revival, and during a time when a lot of machismo and sexual harassment by celebrates is being exposed on social media, and we are losing faith in men in the public eye, it’s hopeful to read a work like The Diaries of Adam and Eve and find a male voice not blinded by ego, not threatened, but with an understanding nature.

Regarding humour, there are certain jokes that aren’t very funny, that are baffling and which I can only presume are related to some event or common joke specific to the time and place Twain was writing in. However there are other amusing scenes, for example interactions with dinosaurs are always funny, in this text and the others we see that Twain has an interest in science and the scientific method, the existence of dinosaurs is proven and Twain is not about to leave them out of Eden, so we get Eve trying to ride a brontosaurus, he “followed her like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do that.” Eve, bright as she is, is also humble, she notices that several animals, particularly the dog and the elephant seem to understand her, and talk, but she does not understand them, and in this case they must be her superiors. In a later text Adam and Eve find a pterodactyl. They name him Terry.

This first section ends on a bit of a sad note, Eve theorizes why she loves Adam, that it is not a product of reasoning, she naively states that she would still love him even if he abused and beat her, words which made me very sad to read. In the end she says she is “only a girl, and the first that examined this matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance and inexperience I have not got it right.” It is a true portrayal of First Love, of thinking that it’s noble to love someone even if they hurt you, and yet Eve has the wisdom to perceive that her understanding of this may change with time. In a later text Eve describes meeting Adam for the first times and thinking he must be some sort of reptile based on how emotionless and inactive he was.

From Adam’s analysis of their love we have simply, and touchingly, these few words written on Eve’s grave: “Wheresoever she was, there was Eden.”

The above points all relate to the first text in this collection, and it was the one I liked most, the one that gave me what I most expected. I would have loved a full novel written in this style, with themes and events expanded upon, but I can understand how it would have been financially and socially damaging for Twain to write such a book in the early 20th century American south, the novel would have ended up banned and part of book-burnings by religious groups across the country, then and now. It’s a shame, there’s are so many good ideas here, surely somewhere someone has written a novel on Adam and Eve – I should do some research on this.

Now regarding the other six texts, they all have differing tones, they were clearly written with specific different themes in mind, written as one-off literary amusements, imagine the opinions section in a newspaper, with articles bouncing off ideas contemporary to the time. I’m just going to mention a few aspects that I found interesting without really describing each individual article.

Eve writes “For we were children without nurses and without instructors. There was no one to tell us anything.” Throughout all these texts by Twain, God is absent, we hear Adam mention once or twice that he was instructed by God to not eat the fruit, but that’s it. Later when Satan appears, Adam and Eve are full of questions. In this imagining of Eden there is no dialogue between God and Adam and Eve, and before those of you who are more religious rush to protest, why should Twain not write their relationship as it currently is for so many of the Christian faith today? Sure there are some who say they speak to God, have a special relationship with him, but for the vast majority there is no clear two-way conversation going on. As Eves says, they were left alone, they discovered, HAD to discover, things by trial and error.

There’s a moment when just before eating the fruit, Adam and Eve have a discussion about what is Good, what is Evil, what is Pain, Disease and Death. Since they have experienced none of these, since they have seen none of these, they have absolutely no concept of what they could mean. How do you explain colours to someone born blind? So, whilst they were warned that eating the fruit would release a bunch of these (completely unknown) concepts, they decide to go right ahead.

Some other humour to note: Eve writes “the ability to spell correctly is a gift; that it is born in a person, and is a sign of intellectual inferiority. By parity of reasoning, its absence is a sign of great mental power.” As someone with a level of dyslexia myself, I welcome this thought. A good story from Adam is when he and Eve asked Noah what happened to all the dinosaurs? “he coloured and changed the subject.” After some persuasion he blames it on his sons for not carrying out their duties correctly, he then says that the dinosaurs and some other animals were left behind because they knew they would be needed for fossils one day… and also there were some miscalculations regarding the ark…

Amongst the jokes and the theological theories, there’s also commentary on the current state of affairs: Eve muses that the human population is too great in number and will consume the earth to devasting effects. This written by Twain a hundred years ago. Wow, what would he think if he saw us now?

There is a truly gut-wrenching and touching moment when Adam and Eve experience Death for the first time; Cain and Abel fight, Abel is hit, but none of them know what death is, they do not recognize or understand the moment he dies, instead they take him to his bed and wait, and wait, for Abel to wake up. All they comprehend is sleep, and therefore they presume that that’s what’s happening. Eve writes of spending hours by Abel’s side, covering his cold body with wool in a futile attempt to warm his body. There’s another diary entry describing her anguish as Eve begins to suspect that this might be what Death is.  

I’d like to end with a small but significant sentence, Adam writes about Eve: “She was never able to keep her composure when she came upon a relative; she would try to kiss every one of these people, black and white and all.” Apart from the fact that all other people of colour are ignored and humanity is basically divided into just white people and black people, and that nowadays the need to specify black and white people in such a sentence almost has the oppose effect and actually sounds racist, but given the time, and the fact that Mark Twain was born in the south, it is a sentence that has good intentions behind it, it is a sentence that is saying: we are all relatives of Adam and Eve, independent of colour. We are all family.

Review by Book Hamster

#just finished reading #the diary of adam and eve #mark twain #adam and eve #feminism #feminist icon #eve #feminist #God #creation #creationism #forbidden fruit #the story of creation #evolution #dinosaurs #theology #the bible #comedy #comedy books #comedy fiction #noah #myths #legends #Religion #the nature of religion #Christianity #stories from the bible #satirical #death #Gender Issues