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officialyourdailyinspiration · 7 months

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To the Church in Ephesus

1 To the messenger of the church in Ephesus write:

The one who holds the seven stars in his right hand, who walks among the seven gold lampstands, says this:

2 I know your works, your labor, and your patient endurance, and that you are not able to tolerate evil people. You have tested those who say they are apostles, but are not, and have found them to be liars. 3 Indeed, you do have patient endurance. You have endured hardships on account of my name and have not become weary.

4 But I have this against you: You have forsaken your first love. 5 Remember, therefore, the state from which you have fallen! Repent and do the works you did at first. Otherwise I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, if you do not repent.

6 But you do have this: You hate the actions of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.

7 Whoever has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious I will give the privilege to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.

Letter to the Church in Smyrna

8 To the messenger of the church in Smyrna write:

The First and the Last, who was dead and came to life again, says this:

9 I know your suffering and your poverty—but you are rich. And I know the blasphemy that comes from those who say they are Jews but are not; rather, they are a synagogue of Satan. 10 Do not fear anything that you are about to suffer. Look, the Devil is about to throw some of you into prison so that you will be tested, and you will suffer for ten days. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.

11 Whoever has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. He who is victorious will not be hurt at all by the second death.

Letter to the Church in Pergamum

12 To the messenger of the church in Pergamum write:

The one who has the sharp, two-edged sword says this:

13 I know where you live—where the throne of Satan is. And I know that you hold fast to my name. You did not renounce your faith in me even in the days when Antipas, my faithful witness, was put to death near you, the place where Satan lives.

14 But I have a few things against you: You have some people there who hold to the teaching of Balaam, who instructed Balak to put a stumbling block in front of the children of Israel so that they would eat things offered to idols and commit sexual immorality. 15 Likewise, you also have some people who hold to the teaching of the Nicolaitans. 16 Therefore, repent! If not, I will come to you soon, and I will fight against them with the sword of my mouth.

17 Whoever has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, which no one will know except the one who receives it.

Letter to the Church in Thyatira

18 To the messenger of the church in Thyatira write:

The Son of God, whose eyes are like fiery flames and whose feet are like polished bronze, says this:

19 I know your works and love and faith and service, as well as your patient endurance, and that you are doing more now than you did at first.

20 But I have this against you: You allow that woman Jezebel, the one who calls herself a prophetess, to deceive my servants and to teach them to commit sexual immorality and eat things offered to idols. 21 I gave her time to repent, but she is not willing to repent of her sexual immorality. 22 Look, I am going to throw her onto a bed and throw those who commit adultery with her into great suffering, if they do not repent of her works. 23 And I will put her children to death. And all the churches will know that I am the one who searches hearts and minds, and that I will give to each of you according to your works.

24 To the rest of you in Thyatira, who do not hold to this teaching, who do not know Satan’s “deep things,” as they call them, I say that I will not lay any other burden on you. 25 Only hold fast to what you have until I come.

26 To the one who is victorious and continues to do my works until the end, I will give him authority over the nations, 27 and he will rule them with an iron staff and shatter them like clay pots, 28 just as I myself have received authority from my Father. I will also give him the morning star.

29 Whoever has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. — Revelation 2 | Evangelical Heritage Version (EHV) The Holy Bible, Evangelical Heritage Version®, EHV®, © 2019 Wartburg Project, Inc. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 2:9; Exodus 16:33; Numbers 25:1; 1 Kings 16:31; 1 Kings 21:25; Psalm 2:8-9; Psalm 7:9; Psalm 26:2; Psalm 31:23; Isaiah 14:12; Isaiah 30:14; Isaiah 44:6; Isaiah 49:2; Isaiah 56:5; Jeremiah 2:2; Daniel 10:6; Matthew 4:3; Matthew 4:10; Matthew 5:14-15; Matthew 7:28; Matthew 11:15; Luke 1:23; Luke 5:5; John 6:6; John 21:22-23; Acts 9:31; Acts 15:28; Acts 18:19; Acts 22:20; Romans 2:4-5; 2 Peter 3:9; Revelation 1:11; Revelation 17:2; Revelation 18:9; Revelation 3:11

#the church in Ephesus #the Church in Pergamum #the Church in Thyatira #the Church in Smyrna #love grown cold #evident #fellowship #Revelation 2 #Book of Revelation #New Testament #EHV #Evangelical Heritage Version Bible #Wartburg Project Inc.

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radiofauxshow · 1 month

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Song of the Day: March 24, 2024

After a brief hiatus, the Radio Faux Show is back in business. 2024 started with some changes to the show, and that focus on new music by female artists will probably continue. Some of the annual faux show themes will also pop up during the year. In the meantime, I’ve decided to start a new show theme that gets right at the core of why I started making these shows over three years ago. I am a…

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#Barbara Lynn #National Heritage Fellowship #Unsung Heroes #Women Who Rock

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gardeniahungma · 2 years

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2022 Photography Portfolio By G.C.Hung, M.S.

https://youtu.be/v6QvW-z8Z3w Photography Portfolio By G.C.Hung, M.A.

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#Meetup Zoom Skype Google #SundaysOnState Street Americantowns. com CanonUSAImaging SundayJuly242022 CommunicationsLanguagesCultureInc GardeniaHung WindyCity Il #Communications Languages and Culture Inc Gardenia Hung #Hispanic Heritage Cross-Cultural Month September 2022 #Irish Fellowship of Chicago #Meet Me On The Mile Magnificent Mile Downtown Chicago Cook County Illinois USA americantowns #Summer 2022 Windy City Illinois USA Lake Michigan Chicago STAR Community #TIME Travellers #Video Conference #Virtual Online Meetings #Zoom

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neechees · 12 days

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Historical Indigenous Women & Figures [6]:

Queen Nanny: the leader of the 18th century Maroon community in Jamaica, she led multiple battles in guerrilla war against the British, which included freeing slaves, and raiding plantations, and then later founding the community Nanny Town. There are multiple accounts of Queen Nanny's origins, one claiming that she was of the Akan people from Ghana and escaped slavery before starting rebellions, and others that she was a free person and moved to the Blue Mountains with a community of Taino. Regardless, Queen Nanny solidified her influence among the Indigenous People of Jamaica, and is featured on a Jamaican bank note. Karimeh Abboud: Born in Bethlehem, Palestine, Karimeh Abboud became interested in photography in 1913 after recieving a camera for her 17th birthday from her Father. Her prestige in professional photography rapidly grew and became high demand, being described as one of the "first female photographers of the Arab World", and in 1924 she described herself as "the only National Photographer". Georgia Harris: Born to a family of traditional Catawba potters, Harris took up pottery herself, and is credited with preserving traditional Catawba pottery methods due to refusing to use more tourist friendly forms in her work, despite the traditional method being much more labour intensive. Harris spent the rest of her life preserving and passing on the traditional ways of pottery, and was a recipient of a 1997 National Heritage Fellowship awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts, which is the highest honor in the folk and traditional arts in the United States. Nozugum: known as a folk hero of the Uyghur people, Nozugum was a historical figure in 19th century Kashgar, who joined an uprising and killed her captor before running away. While she was eventually killed after escaping, her story remains a treasured one amongst the Uyghur. Pampenum: a Sachem of the Wangunk people in what is now called Pennsylvania, Pampenum gained ownership of her mother's land, who had previously intended to sell it to settlers. Not sharing the same plans as her mother, Pampenum attempted to keep these lands in Native control by using the colonial court system to her advantage, including forbidding her descendants from selling the land, and naming the wife of the Mohegan sachem Mahomet I as her heir. Despite that these lands were later sold, Pampenum's efforts did not go unnoticed. Christine Quintasket: also known as "Humishima", "Mourning Dove", Quintasket was a Sylix author who is credited as being one of the first female Native American authors to write a novel featuring a female protagonist. She used her Sylix name, Humishima, as a pen name, and was inspired to become an author after reading a racist portrayal of Native Americans, & wished to refute this derogatory portrayal. Later in life, she also became active in politics, and helped her tribe to gain money that was owed them. Rita Pitka Blumenstein: an Alaskan Yup'ik woman who's healing career started at four years old, as she was trained in traditional healing by her grandmother, and then later she became the first certified traditional doctor in Alaska and worked for the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. She later passed on her knowledge to her own daughters. February 17th is known as Rita Pitka Blumenstein day in Alaska, and in 2009 she was one of 50 women inducted into the inaugural class of the Alaska Women's Hall of Fame Olivia Ward Bush-Banks: a mixed race woman of African American and Montaukett heritage, Banks was a well known author who was a regular contributor to the the first magazine that covered Black American culture, and wrote a column for a New York publication. She wrote of both Native American, and Black American topics and issues, and helped sculptor Richmond Barthé and writer Langston Hughes get their starts during the Harlem Renaissance. She is also credited with preserving Montaukett language and folklore due to her writing in her early career.

part [1], [2], [3], [4], [5] Transphobes & any other bigots need not reblog and are not welcome on my posts.

#native american #indigenous #women #historyedit #history #ndnedit #historicaledit #gifedit #justin's edits

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the-writing-goblin · 6 months

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We know that canonically, by the Third Age, there mortal stories about Galadriel, telling of the creepy elf-sorceress whose powers are unknown and undefined. That those who enter her woods do not leave again the same.

Personally, I suspect elves have the same ideas, they're just not stupid enough to say them out loud because she might hear. Yes they're currently in Imladris and she's in Lothlorien, what's your point?

Like, I really feel like it's important to note how utterly alien Galadriel would be and feel to pretty much everyone else by the Third Age. Even other elves.

The most obvious difference would be that she's looked upon the trees, but I also think the fact that she was born and raised in Aman is... actually probably a big deal?

Like: she grew up near the only direct source of light in her time, and much of the food she was eating was probably blessed by Yavanna, Vanna, or one of their Maia. The men in her family, Turgon and Maedhros most famously, are notably tall. Galadriel herself is described as 'no less tall than' her husband Celeborn in lord of the rings. I take this to mean they're the same height but... the wording doesn't technically rule out her being taller? She could be a damn giant.

And she's the only elf who we know looks visibly Vanya. Elrond, the only other named elf who we know had Vanya heritage seems to take after his mother (probably, at least in coloring). Even if there are other elves with some Vanya looks kicking around by the time the fellowship roles up pretty much all of the elves any of them would have seen would be some combination of Sinda, Silvan, and Noldor. We know that canonically her coloring is quite different from these, with her hair being closer to Vanya gold than Teleri or Noldor colorings. It's not clear exactly how different these groups are in appearence, but it could be dramatic. Certainly, her hair is... ya know... kinda a big deal. In the books. Just a bit.

Basically, she is tall, stunningly gorgeous in a deeply unfamiliar way, powerfully magical in a way no one else in middle earth is and her eyes are fucking glowing because of the treelight. She learned magic from the Middle Earth equivalent of a minor god and she's at least somewhat telepathic.

Everyone with any sense is afraid of this woman.

#back on my Eldritch Horror Galadriel bullshit #Galadriel #lotr #silmarillion #silm

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noctivagantpodcast · 3 months

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I Live On Stolen Land

Consider donating to one of these wonderful charities dedicated to preserving the cultures, livelihoods, rights, and dignity of Indigenous peoples.

First Nations Development Institute. Information taken from their 'Our Programs' page: Grantmaker dedicated to addressing financial inequality and its many, many negative impacts. In additional to financial aid, FNDI provides job training and participates in policy-making and advocacy, often focusing on environmental concerns, food insecurity, and tribal sovereignty. Some examples of current projects include "Fortifying Our Forests" AKA restoring and protecting sacred land in partnership with the Forest Service, Native Language Immersion Initiative AKA ensuring the survival of Native languages, and Native Farm To School AKA connecting Native youth with traditional means of growing and harvesting food.

Native American Rights Fund A registered non-profit that provides legal representation in matters of Native interest, be that a single individual or an entire tribe. Since their inception, they have won cases that made critical contributions to the advancement of Native rights in the United States. Their efforts have helped uphold tribal sovereignty, compelled museums, universities, and other institutions to return the remains of Native ancestors, and protected the voting rights of pretty much everyone.

Redhawk Native American Arts Council This organization's primary focus is on the preservation of Native American arts through educational programs. We can also thank them for granting scholarships to Native students seeking higher education, and for running a youth program which aims to help Urban Indigenous youth connect with their heritage through the arts.

Seventh Generation Fund A "fiscal sponsor" for smaller community groups that are run by and for Native tribes/individuals, with the focus of preserving heritage and defending tribal sovereignty, as well as continued survival post-genocide. One example of their work is the Flicker Fund, a disaster fund dedicated to supporting Indigenous communities during times of crisis, be that a pandemic, extreme weather, or a severe drought. Another is the Traditions Bearers Fellowship, which provides financial support to tribal community members who carry on pre-colonization traditions.

Quiluete Move To Higher Ground Stephanie Meyer committed a serious of egregious acts of cultural appropriation and exploitation, and made a very large fortune off a very real tribe. This very real tribe now finds themselves living in a tsunami zone and unable to afford a move to a safer area. As of 2022, the move of the Tribal School, the most important phase, is complete, but there's much more work to be done.

Indigenous Women Rising Abortion Fund A fund to provide Native individuals and family access to abortion care, menstrual hygiene supplies, and midwifery. Here are two separate articles verifying their status as the ONLY indigenous specific (and Indigenous led) abortion fund. For more information on how the destruction of Roe V Wade has negatively impacted Indigenous women, look here and here.

South Dakota Historical Society Foundation So, this isn't a Native led or Native specific organization, but, they work closely with Indigenous communities in South Dakota to preserve their heritage alongside the state's history. I recently had a lovely conversation with one of their representatives about the Ghost Shirt their society is sheltering until such a time as the tribe it rightfully belongs to can house it safely. Article about the shirt's repatriation with some cool info on the shirt's history is here.

#native american rights #indigenous issues #indigenous activism #native american art

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elfy-elf-imagines · 10 months

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Lost in the Labyrinth of my Mind | Legolas Greenleaf

▹ Pairing: Legolas x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Pining

▹ Words: ~4k

▹ Summary: The two times you realized you loved Legolas, and the one time you acted on it.

▹ Notes: I would like a reward, I've posted two times in a year 🙂🙃 But seriously, thank you for all the support and love in my last oneshot, you all had me giggling and twirling my hair with my feet kicked up.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Little has made sense lately.

Thrust into a world so unlike your own everything was disorienting. Now you were living in the world that closely mimicked the Middle Ages you’d only read about. The first year hidden in Imladris had felt like the morning after a jarringly realistic dream. Spots blurred your vision and you were half convinced nothing was even real. In fact, you still weren’t fully convinced this was anything more than a grand delusion. Your memory was spotty and the days passed in a haze, so maybe that's why you volunteered to join the Fellowship as a healer.

It was dangerous, you knew, but those fears were quelled with the notion that death would mean it all had been real afterall. Either you come home a hero or have a firm grasp on what’s reality, even if that’s in death.

Dawn broke, the sun cresting high in the sky, but it was barely seen over the mountains. They seemed to close in, threatening to crush you and your companions, the falling snow ensuring your bodies would stay on the floor. There was a burn in your legs from the steep incline as the Fellowship hiked up the mountains. Even after a night of restless respite, your body still aches. You wouldn’t falter though, even as the tips of your fingers turned blue and your skin became as cold as ice. As the only woman in the company, you refused to be the one to stop first. Stubborn pride was all that kept you moving forward.

Somewhere in between the hobbits was where you found your spot in the marching order. You were content enough to slide in and out of their conversations, at least, the parts of the conversation that could be heard over the deafening wind. But even their chirper disposition seemed to wilt under the harsh weather that seemed to get worse the higher up the Fellowship got.

Your eyes slid towards Legolas, a shining gold beacon amongst the frost. His hair was like the last rays of sunlight, the smile on his face as warming as a roaring fire. Seamlessly he weaved between the members of the Fellowship, seemingly unbothered by the snow. His footsteps were so light, he didn’t even leave a footprint in his wake. Unlike your travel companions, he seemed mostly unbothered by the pelting snow and frigid air. The cloak he wore, lighter than yours, seemed to be for show rather than practical use.

It was obnoxious how distracting he could be. If you weren’t careful, you would stare at him for hours on end, mouth hung open like an idiot. It was humiliating, the amount of times you’d made a fool of yourself while in his presence. The teasing from Elladan and Elrohir had been endless.

Yet as much as you’d hate to admit it, the flutter of your heart or the giddiness that puts a skip in your step were all sensations you reveled in. Always a hopeless romantic, even as previous partners tarnished your silver-plated optimism, you loved being in love. Except, you weren’t in love, you couldn’t be. And in the depths of night, while the stars hung high and all was quiet you told yourself a million things to convince yourself the crush on Legolas was surface level. You told yourself things like:

“It was his elven heritage; you just weren’t used to seeing elves.”

“The infatuation and curiosity would dim with time.”

“Most of your life elves were fictional, and now there was one, right before you.”

Those were a few of the lines you told yourself to placate yourself when your mind wandered too close to Legolas, though it never felt very convincing.

Legolas turned, his bright blue eyes meeting yours. They were so wide and full of wonder, it was hard to believe he was hundreds - if not a couple thousand - years old. He was so youthful and bright, not weighed down from living a million lifetimes. Nothing like his father nor the whispers that followed the King’s name in the corridors of Imladris. Legolas was soft and gentle, careful and perfectly polite to a fault. His father’s disposition may have been winter but Legolas remained the sun that melted the frigid snow.

A smile blossomed on Legolas’ face, not a single crease appearing on his pale skin. The simple gesture made your heart rate increase to an alarming rate, knots twisting and turning in your stomach. Heat and embarrassment made your cheeks turn flush and you hoped he simply thought it was from the cold.

You returned a smile, overtly aware of your own appearance and insecurities. You wanted him to think you were as pretty as the elves you’d lived among, but beauty was hard while caught in a snowstorm. Your eyes moved from Legolas, opting to stare at the back of Aragorn’s head, at least until the queasy feeling in your stomach went away. He was so beautiful, and kind, and wonderful, and--

‘Stop. Don’t do that.’ you scold yourself. It wasn’t worth the potential heartbreak to even consider Legolas like that. You were mortal and he was very much not, he would more than likely see you as a lost puppy than a romantic prospect. But despite yourself, you snuck one last glance at Legolas, foolishly hopeful his eyes were still locked on you. They weren’t; he was now in the front with Gandalf, idle and unaware of the turmoil a simple smile from him caused.

A particularly strong gust of wind hit you, knocking you straight to the ground. The winds were getting fiercer and the snow heavier, how long would this continue before Galdalf admitted defeat and you turned around?

Wet, cold snow seeped through your clothes. You tried to stand, but found it difficult in the thick layer of snow. Like a clumsy child you kicked and squirmed in an attempt to regain your dignity, but it was all for not. Then a hand appeared in your line of sight, offering your aid. You looked up, Legolas now standing before you with an outstretched hand. Without hesitation you took it, Legolas hauling you back to your feet with little to no effort.

Even as your body was upright and stable, Legolas’ hand didn’t leave yours. His hands were rough from decades of archery training, but they seemed gentle in yours. His thumb lightly traced shapes over your skin. The action seemed subconscious as Legolas continued to look at you with that bright expression he always wore.

“Careful my lady, we wouldn’t want you to blow away.” Despite how quiet they were, his words cut through the wind. There was a teasing glimmer in his eyes that seemed to translate to his words.

You breathed out a laugh, careful to not stare into his eyes too long. Your cheeks became warm again, the red flush of embarrassment making its mark on you. Legolas’ head tilted to the side; concern masked the light mischief lighting up his face.

“My lady, you must be freezing, especially after a fall into the snow. Here--”

He didn’t give you time to respond, not that you even could. You were in a trance, enraptured the smell of cedar and bergamot as well as the heat that radiated from his body that was so close to yours. Legolas reached up to the clasp of his cloak and undid it. In a smooth motion, he took the cloak off and draped it over your body.

“That should help keep you warm in the snow.”

He smiled at you, sweet and gentle. His disposition was addictive, making a small grin curl on your lips. All too soon, he stepped away from you, sparring you one last glance before approaching Aragorn. Your cheeks remained warm and bright red, the rate of your heart not settling anytime soon.

You continued to watch him animatley chat with Aragorn, unbothered by the cold even without a cloak. Subconsciously, you pulled the cloak tighter to your body, deeply inhaling his scent that lingered on the fabric.

Practically floating, you were unaware of the knowing glances the rest of the Fellowship cast your way. All the while, you were lost in thought, trying to intellectualize each butterfly Legolas’ touch created. It was all overwhelming and you almost wanted to throw up. You were shaking and nervous; bright red from head to toe. This felt different than idle crushes and romanticization of complete strangers.

Maybe you were falling in love.

---

The river languidly flowed, beams of soft light reflecting off the water and creating a thousand little rainbows. The river’s stream was gentle and almost lethargic, it seemed even the Earth was affected by the elves' lack of urgency in life. Lady Galadriel’s power had seeped into the very dirt and from it sprout and ethereal visages in the forest. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this at peace. It must’ve been before your old life had been ripped from you.

You were alone, fingertips digging into the mud as you stared at the stream. Gandalf was dead. It was a strange thing to constantly remember. At times you would forget, searching for him in the Fellowship only to remember he’d fallen in Moria. There was a pit in your stomach you weren’t familiar with. Greif didn’t feel the way you’d thought it would’ve, not at all the way it was often dramatized in the media. Instead of bright and all encompassing, it was a subtle, slow burn that would eventually swallow you whole if left untempered.

But you didn’t know how to temper it.

So it left a dull ache within you, painless enough you’d forget it was there until it suddenly pricked you like a sewing needle.

But at least you could mourn without the threat of orcs looming over your head.

“I had hoped to find you.” His voice was carried by the gentle breeze that suddenly came through the clearing. You turned your head, only slightly, just enough to see Legolas’ lithe form standing a little ways away.

“It’s quiet,” you replied, returning your attention to the water, feeling a need to explain yourself to Legolas, even though his observation wasn’t accusatory. The ground muffled the sound of Legolas’ footsteps, only a soft thump heard with each step. He then took a seat beside you, so quiet it felt like he’d always been there. His eyes were on you, you could feel it, the way his blue eyes bore past your body and into your soul. Elves were far more perceptive than humans, and you could feel the truth to that statement in his gaze.

“I had thought so as well. I came here our first night in Lothlorien. It made me think of you, I am pleased to see I was correct in that.” He spoke the words so effortlessly, as if he hadn’t just admitted to thinking of you. Or perhaps it was nothing to him, a passing thought in his mind of one of his friends. You didn’t want to just be a friend, but perhaps that was the category you’ll remain.

You turn your head, eye to eye with Legolas. A warm flush appeared on your cheeks, something that seemed permanent when he looked at you with those eyes. The type of wonder and softness that almost made you believe he returned your affections. Yet you didn’t linger on those fantasies for too long, not wanting to potentially be let down. You’d never been very strong in your convictions, something born during childhood that you never managed to shake.

Flighty and fearful as long as danger was near and it was always near; haunting the edges of your vision, a jumpscare waiting around every corner. The worst case scenario had always been accepted as the only plausible scenario; fiction became fact and you wouldn’t accept any other truth. Perhaps Legolas was waiting for a cue from you to make a move, but you were too much of a coward to ever do it.

So in limbo you would stay, content enough with your friendship while secretly yearning for more.

“And what about a calm river could make you think of me?”

You were irrational and emotional, quick to anger and hard to forgive. If anything you were a calamitous tsunami; rough and heavy, dragging everyone in its tide. Nothing like the level headed and logical elves you’d lived around.

“You’re both a source of peace and beauty,” he responded, a small child-like grin curling on his lips. Your mouth grew dry, brows furrowed in slight disbelief.

‘He thought I was beautiful?’

The thoughts in your mind flew at a thousand miles per hour. There wasn’t one singular train of thought you could latch onto, the ability to speak taken from you. No witty comment fell from your mouth, only a wide eyed stare that suspiciously resembled a doe.

It seemed to make Legolas falter, a light dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks. He looked away, eyes locked on the river. “I apologize, that came out wrong. I simply meant that while you are attractive, you are also a great friend and I value speaking with you.” He stuttered and stumbled over his words, trailing off at the end. And his voice… it was so prim and proper, it made a few of the butterflies in your stomach turn to dust. “The same way I value the quiet of sitting in this…spot.”

His eyes darted away from your sharpened gaze, scanning the nearby treeline. His nerves seemed suffocating, he’d suddenly become so flighty. Had you made him uncomfortable? Did he see the hearts in your eyes when you looked at him? Had it made him uncomfortable?

The thoughts made you shrink within yourself. The barest hint of hope within you smothered in insecurities and doubt as dark as midnight. Perhaps he hadn’t meant the compliment in the way you wanted. They were only kind words to ease a friend's grief, yet you managed to only hear what you wanted.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

You fought against the disappointment, not allowing it to carve its place onto your face. The smile on your face was bright, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. “I’m glad we are friends.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your touch so light he nearly didn’t feel it.

You half expected him to jump away from your touch as if it burned, but he didn’t. Instead, he met your gaze once more, and the worry muddying his eyes melted away.He gave a slight nod of the head, yet didn’t speak.

Silence filled the clearing, and you were terrified he might hear your heart pounding against your chest. It became harder to breathe the longer the two of you stayed locked in the impromptu staring contest. The distance between you two was small, and you’d never been so close to him before. Oh god, was he getting closer? Was he leaning towards you?

There was a slight quiver in your lips, heart slowing to a point you were afraid it wasn’t beating anymore. Palms sweaty, they clung to the blades of grass held captive in your hands. Time stopped, nothing else mattered as you prepared for his lips to touch yours.

Except…

They never did. Legolas pulled back, eyes wide in alarm. He stood, nearly stumbling backwards in his desperation to get away from you. He got to his feet and took two steps away. On the ground you remained, ripping out grass to keep from crying as you saw what you swore was regret crossing his face.

“I should return to the Fellowship, Aragorn may require me. Until we meet again.” Legolas did an awkward half bow, scurrying away before you could so much as reply.

Left alone, you let out a heavy breath, that was shuddered with choked sobs. Were you truly that bad he had to flee from you? The wind blew stronger this time, and you rolled your eyes. A few stray tears fell and you let them, there was no one to see you cry like a baby over a man you knew you could never have.

You couldn’t deny it anymore, try as you might.

Oh no, you were falling in love.

---

The panic that tore through Helm’s Deep was contagious.

Ten thousand Uruk-hai would be marching towards you, an army that tripled what little forces the keep could muster. We needed outside help, but there wasn’t time to call for reinforcements. We’d all already be dead by the time they came.

You tried to not let the fear show, desperate to keep your body steady despite the shaking it was plagued with. Deep breaths were forced as you attempted to keep your breath shallow and uneven. But you couldn’t deny it, even as you did anything and everything to keep your mind.

You weren’t ready to die.

Not today, not like this.

It wouldn’t be swift and painless, it would be drawn out and agonizing; orcs weren’t famous for their mercy. Suffocated by a blanket of despair, you briefly considered offing yourself. There were so many twisting tunnels and a million ways for you to do it. But in the end, as you stared into the desolate eyes of the Rohirrim, you decided against it. If they could face impending doom with grace, then so could you. Yet that didn’t keep the terror from threatening to swallow you whole.

You were numb.

Stood outside, elves and men began to line up along the wall. There were screams and shouts all around, but it was nothing but white noise in your ears. Across the crowd, your eyes met Legolas’. His lips were downturned and his eyes were tired; Legolas was just as terrified as you.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but within a blink the two of you began to move towards one another. The crowd was thick but you shoved through them with the strength of someone twice your size. As you escaped the crowd and your hands found Leglolas’, you could finally breathe. It was a breath of fresh air after being forced underwater.

His eyes bore into yours, his grip tight as if to assure himself you wouldn’t leave. Battle was coming, he knew that, you knew that, but the sentiment was nice. It made your heart flutter, the numbness freezing your body lifting the longer you stayed there.

You wanted to speak, to tell him all the love confessions and speeches you’d been mentally writing and rewriting. But the ability to talk had been lost. Your mouth was dry and your throat had closed up. Instead you squeezed his hands tighter, hoping to convey everything your words couldn’t.

His lips, pressed into a thin line, relaxed into a slight frown. His eyes were searching your face, looking for the answers to his never ending questions. You weren’t sure if he found what he was looking for, too afraid to ask in case it soiled the moment.

It was in that moment, with your eyes connected and his hands tangled with yours, everything clicked into place. Every nagging insecurity and silly fear felt so miniscule and pointless. How much time had been wasted living in fear?

Moments before doom and your hit with an epiphany. Your feelings weren’t as unrequited as once believed. Reflected in Legolas' shining eyes you could see the same unsurety that came with loving someone new. The constant doubts that you were wrong, not trusting your own eyes and instincts. It was never one sided, you just wish one of you had the courage to say something before this moment.

A part of you waited for Legolas to speak, to declare everything you’d already figured out, but he never did. Rendered mute just as you were, he was silent in the midst of chaos.

So you opted to not speak either and instead pressed your lips against his. Your lips were dry and cracked, raw from biting on them constantly. Legolas’ were much the same, yet neither of you hardly cared. His grip on you tightened as he pulled your body closer. He never wanted to let you lose and you didn’t want him to.

The kiss was hardly romantic or anything like the sappy romance books that became your bible. His lips were rough and his grip was nearly bruising, but it made your heart burst all the same. There was no time for gentle kisses and longing eye contact under flutter lashes, the world was coming to an end. And you’d be damned if it ended without you telling Legolas you’d loved him.

You pulled back, wide eyes staring into his eyes. A warm rush through your body, heart beat racing against your chest. Faintly, you heard Aragorn calling for the two of you; the current scenario came rushing back as time began to move normally. Majority of the army has lined up, anxiously awaiting the official start of a long dreaded war. You looked at Legolas once more, and his eyes met yours.

“I love you.” The words fell from your lips, jumbled together as you spoke to the tempo of your heartbeat. He understood them all the same, his lips curling into a melancholic sort of grin.

“I love you.”

The moment was over, the bubble previously surrounding just the two of you bursting. The end was near.

Following the crowd, you and Legolas took your places at the wall, watching ten thousand Uruk-Hai march towards you. Yet you weren’t filled with the same icy fear and delolation. You’d been revived; dropped into icy water after a year long drought.

Under the wall and hidden by darkness, your hand found Legolas’. He squeezed it, a reassurance and a promise.

You would both make it out.

And everything would be right.

Deeply, you inhaled slowly exhaling. A single arrow bit through the darkness and landed in the chest of an Uruk-Hai. The enemy army shouted and began to charge. You lifted your blade, untangling your hands from Legolas’ as you knocked his arrow.

The two of you would be fine.

If only so you could hear him say the words you’ve dreamed about since your first meeting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

#legolas imagine #legolas x reader #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #legolas #legolas oneshot #legolas greenleaf #tolkien #lotr #middle earth imagines #lotr movies #lord of the rings oneshot #lord of the rings #legolas fluff #mirkwood elves #lotr fanfic #lotr elves

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 3 months

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I’m (maybe?) almost done with a Théodred story I’ve been working on for a long time and, in looking back over some of my notes about his canon life, I couldn’t help clocking the many similarities between his experiences and those of LOTR’s other first son of a kingdom of men, Boromir. It’s not super relevant to my story, but I ended up with this running list and I’m just sticking it here because why not. None of this is groundbreaking stuff (and there are probably more) but so far I have that Théodred and Boromir both:

1. Were heirs to the leadership of their respective realms and held their land’s senior military positions (Second Marshal for Théodred—there being no First Marshal at the time—and Captain of the White Tower for Boromir).

2. Lost their mothers early (Théodred at birth and Boromir at age 10) and grew up in households run entirely by powerful fathers who never remarried.

3. Ended up taking on dangerous challenges at least in part because those fathers were both having their reason and good judgment manipulated by opponents (Théoden through the treachery of Gríma/Saruman and Denethor by the selective truths shown to him by Sauron in the palantír).

4. Got killed in a battle where their opponents were targeting them to the exclusion of others around them (Saruman’s forces at the Isen were told to kill Théodred at all costs even while “disregarding” others, and the orcs at Parth Galen fire their arrows “always at Boromir” while leaving Merry and Pip untouched).

5. Were trying to summon aid at the time they were struck down (Théodred is shouting “To me, Eorlingas!” to summon reinforcements when he’s fatally wounded. Boromir blows his great horn to alert the rest of the fellowship before he’s brought down).

6. Took massive injuries but lived long enough afterward to pass on last words in which they invoke the names of the men who will come to replace them as leaders and express the hope that those next leaders will achieve victory (Elfhelm and Grimbold believe Théodred is dead before they discover he’s still breathing just enough to say, “Let me lie here to keep the fords til Éomer comes.” Boromir, as we all know, lays there with those arrows in his chest long enough to be found by Aragorn, at which point he says, “Farewell, Aragorn. Go to Minas Tirith and save my people.”).

7. Died within hours of each other (Théodred on the night on February 25 and Boromir around midday on the 26) at the same age of 41 because, oh yeah, they were also born within months of each other.

8. Didn’t get a burial/funeral in keeping with their status and the traditions of their people because they died in awful circumstances far from home (Théodred dies and is buried by Elfhelm and Grimbold’s companies at the fords rather than in the barrows outside of Edoras with his ancestors. Boromir is sent over the falls by the three hunters instead of laying in Rath Dínen with the other kings and stewards of Gondor).

9. Mentored and protected little brother-type figures (Faramir as Boromir’s actual little brother and Éomer as Théodred’s cousin/adopted little bro) who would go on to achieve what they were unable to do themselves while alive.

10. Died unmarried and childless despite being extremely marriageable, in the primes of their lives and presumably expected to produce another heir. (There’s an explanation given for Boromir—he’s not into women and prefers fighting and arms—though there is none for Théodred.) (Like many other people, I have my own personal HC for Théodred’s romantic life, but that’s for another day.)

I’m not sure what to make of all that, but I find it interesting. We hear so often about contrasts between Gondor and Rohan—the different histories and heritages, the personality of cold, hard Denethor against kindly, grandfatherly Théoden, the magisterial stone and marble of Minas Tirith versus the rustic wood and thatch of Edoras, Gondor’s vast libraries and the Rohirrim’s oral traditions—but they’re so deeply linked as kingdoms and as individuals. By fate and by choice, they’re inextricably tied together, and I love the amount of detail that went into creating and including the subtle parallels between the first sons of each land as just one more way to see those ties play out.

#lord of the rings #lotr #boromir #theodred #théodred #rohan #gondor #oath of eorl #first sons #shared histories

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nihilizzzm · 10 months

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The fellowship at the house party

tw: drinking alcohol, smoking weed and nicotine

yeah so i might be hangover again but at least it gives me dope post ideas

(disclaimer that makes it even funnier: every description is based on someone i know and i was drinking with, so yeah, call it my slavic heritage ig)

Frodo: His house, not his idea. It was available. He has a big house far away from the city centre, so loud music won’t kill anyone. He specifically said he’a never doing a big party. It happened anyway. At first he is stressed about everything, trying to save as much furniture as he can. Than he decides that fuck it and drinks some beer. At some point he doesn’t care anymore, goes to sleep. No hangover, in the morning he’s drinking coffee and watching everyone cleaning up the mess.

Merry: Very much not his house, very much his idea. Surprisingly he’s not that drunk, but his goal for the night is to get Pippin drunk as fuuuck. He looks after him tho, as much as it’s possible. He invited most of the people. The best dj, not the only one unfortunately, but definitely the most skilled one. Did spend some time in the smoking circle in the garden. Also no hangover (surprisingly v2), helps cleaning. He has his honour.

Pippin: Came to drink and so he did. No shit talking, first thing he said when he entered was ‘where’s vodka?!’. From the very beginning he knew he is gonna be the drunkest. He was not tho, this spot is reserved for someone else, but he was trying his best. Merry helped him a lot. Also he smoked a lot. Anyway right after midnight he passed out, slept under the table. Hangover in the morning, still he was satisfied with himself.

Sam: He helped Frodo decorate. Came earlier and made sandwiches. Some laughed at this idea but at the end of the night there was not a single one left. Pure soul, he doesn’t rly drink. He had like one and a half beer and that’s it. He was sitting with Frodo for the whole night and put him to sleep. In the morning he helped cleaning but most importantly he was the one telling everyone what they have to do.

Gimli: Challenged Legolas to a drinking competition. We all know how it went down. But before he was the best dancer. Ok, maybe not the best but the most committed one. Also came earlier and helped Sam with making drinks, the fancy kind (with what was available and affordable ofc). He was bitching in the morning but helped with the dishes.

Legolas: Oh boy… First of all danced with Gimli, then they fought, then he won the drinking game with him. They kissed in the process, they are in a weird situationship. After the party they started dating. After Gimli passed out he got even more drunk and got into full diva mood. Suddenly he became best friends with Boromir with who he usually is not that close. He is one of the two people who went to buy more booze in the middle of the night to the nearest petrol station. He was also the one who took the most of the photos, mostly blurry tho. Miraculously not hangover. How? Magic ig. Or maybe bc he’s the one who ate all of the sandwiches. Doesn’t clean in the morning, he sits in the kitchen with a tea and posts photos at his insta and laughs at Gimli and Boromir.

Boromir: Had a shitty week at work and with his father so he knew he’s gonna be drunk. But man- Drunk a lot, smoked a lot (he doesn’t even smoke usually??). Literally the amount of booze in his system would kill Pippin. Talking about Pippin they did drink a lot together before Pippin was out. He’s the other half of people who went to the petrol station. Why? He wanted more alcohol and Legolas said he will pay if Boromir would carry everything. They rly started getting along after certain amount if booze. He fell asleep on the couch. Aragorn gave him a bucket, he didn’t need it but in the morning he started thinking it would be better if he did. He didn’t help cleaning, he wasn’t trusting his legs well enough. He was just sitting on the couch in dark glasses and hoped for his life to get together. But Aragorn was sitting with him so it was nice.

Aragorn: Didn’t drink a lot. Smoked weed tho. He was almost all the time in the smoking garden circle with Gandalf. Than went inside to check on people and when he found out Boromir and Legolas are out of the house he lost any hope for a good ending of this night. He got so stoned that when everything was quieting down he was sitting with drunk af Boromir on the couch and started braiding his hair talking about some metaphysical shit. He also became very open about his feelings, Boromir doesn’t remember. They will work it out eventually. Until morning he was sober and made everyone electrolytes and tea. And gave Boromir the glasses. Helped with cleaning.

Gandalf: He brought weed. Didn’t even get inside, literally just sitting and smoking. In the middle of the night disappeared. In the morning texted if everyone is okay and didn’t stop asking until everyone answered. Said he’s never doing it again and that every single one of the members of the fellowship is a stupid bitch. Checked twice on Pippin. Shouted at Boromir with all capital letters for like 20 minutes. Boromir just muted the chat. He did appear on the next party anyway.

Bonus:

Faramir: Boromir specifically told him not to go, bc he feared the young one will get drunk. He didn’t. Drunk a bit, danced a lot with Eomer and Eowyn. Had fun. Boromir doesn’t know he was there and nobody will ever tell him.

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aintinacage · 9 months

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Great first night of the Life Together Tent Revival Florence. Had several answer the call to get things right with God including someone who heard from her porch and came to the tent crying. Many were touched by God. Join us tonight at 6PM!

Also, included are pictures from the kid’s Bible Boot Camp in the morning. The kid’s Bible Boot Camp continues at 9AM-Noon through Saturday.

#life together with aaron and julie schilling #life together #life together ministry #ltm #Christian #christian faith #Christianity #heritage fellowship #vacation bible school #vbs #bible boot camp #god #florence #florence kentucky #kentucky #Cincinnati #cincinnati ohio #Ohio #Indiana

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sitp-recs · 29 days

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Do you fics that portray Harry as academic/"book smart" or that are not focused on Harry being a man of action/ physically powerful wizard? I crave a trope reversal :)

Hi anon! Ohhh that’s a great one, I’d love to see more academic/researcher Harry in fic. I got a couple recs for you, you might also enjoy my rec list with odd jobs :)

Forget Our Heritage by dwell_the_brave (T, 16k)

When Harry Potter returns to England to take the All Souls Fellowship Examinations, the last person he expects to see in Oxford is Draco Malfoy. After all these years, has Malfoy truly changed?

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 30k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (E, 45k)

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska. Years of hard work have culminated in an opportunity to work with an experimental wandmaker to study the intersection of Healing and wand theory. When Draco arrives, he doesn't find the wandmaker, but does find his apprentice, who happens to have ridiculously messy hair, a lightning bolt scar, and a definitely-not-charming smile.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #academic Harry #smart Harry

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rhysiana · 1 year

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I first watched Goncharov (1973) in a college film class (an insufferable statement, I know, I’m sorry), which was an interesting experience on several levels because:

1) I’m not actually sure how the professor got a copy at the time? Like, I am 99% certain it was a bootleg they’d picked up during a summer research trip to Europe and the rest of the department/the librarians/whoever was actually in charge of the AV center all just had an unspoken agreement to never mention it, because there was no way our small liberal arts college was going to get legit rights to it, even for educational purposes. The legal backstory of the movie would probably have made for a fascinating interdisciplinary special topics course all by itself.

2) I happened to be in a class with a strangely significant number of people with Italian and Russian heritage, of the recent enough sort that they visited family in those countries regularly and had at least casual listening skills in the languages, if not fluency. And this made for a fascinating class discussion, far better than I think the professor had ever anticipated, because it turned out that each subset of students in the class (northeastern American vs. Italian vs. Russian) was picking up on different sets of themes and symbolism. We had one senior in the class who was applying for a Watson fellowship to study Russian iconography after graduation and the stuff she brought in about the Orthodox images just shown casually in the background added a whole dimension our prof had never heard anyone talk about before. I’m pretty sure they ended up co-authoring a paper about it.

Anyway, not that anyone needed my rambling about this, but the sudden Goncharov renaissance here has been very nostalgic for me.

#goncharov #my contribution to the chaos #unreality

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kiame-sama · 11 months

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So I know your doing anime headcanons right now but I've been dying to know the relationships that your OC's have with their parents! Like I want to know about Evan's mom or Walter's parents. Btw I've been a huge fan of your blog for a long time and I really love your work!

Walter's mother and father both passed in a car accident. It was while Walter was near the end of his formal medical education. Around this time, Amira was still in high school and was not handling the loss of their parents well. Walter had to learn to juggle medical school, his own mental health, his sister's mental and physical health, Amira's education, finishing his fellowship with the hospital he was studying at, and making enough to survive.

- This is the time Walter started taking a few under the table jobs to make ends meet and met Evan. He is somewhat of an on-call doctor for Evan's miscellaneous adventures.

- Evan was raised as a mafioso's son from a very young age. His grandmother on his father's side is his only living relative besides a spare few cousins. Evan got along well with his father, and it was clear Evan had absolute respect for his father in almost all regards. His mother was not a prominent part of his life and tried to walk out on the family when Evan was six, he never saw her afterwards but knew better than to question his father about a traitor.

- When Evan's father was killed during Evan's first wedding, Evan lost almost all of his young and reckless outlook on life. He became much more intimidating and serious after the death of his father and his impromptu accelerated promotion to head of the family. Only Evan's Grandmother is allowed to get on him for any behavior without Evan becoming angered. He's used to her harping and nagging.

- Carlos is still close with his family, though they are rather spread out world wide. Carlos' father was a renowned medical practitioner who specializes in pulmonary procedures. Carlos' mother travels with his father to various communities to aid in treatment of mycoorganisms and Tuberculosis. His uncles and aunts range from professors to large land owners with various ranches.

- Carlos loves when his mother and father come to visit because he loves cooking dinner with his mother. Carlos has two sisters, one of whom is already doing well with her thriving family and the other is working on the conservation of Asian Elephants.

- Jackson... Misses his family with almost every part of his soul. Family and heritage is important to a Native American and the true unity that came with being in an established tribe gave him a sense of belonging. He no longer has access to that sense of belonging or support due to his unofficial excommunication from his home.

- Jackson got along best with his mother who was always there for him in the hardest of times. Despite the potential repercussions, she still occasionally reaches out to check in on Jackson, though she can't talk with him for long.

- Hahne only has his sister, Hada. He learned long ago that he would have to find his family instead of living with the ones he was related to by blood. Hahne's parents were rather absent if they weren't busy trying to overwork Hahne and ride on his success in swimming. Hahne raised Hada from a young age as his parents were always busy with work.

- After Hahne's parents disowned him, he moved with Hada to escape the persecution the family brought on him. He found a family in Evan and the mafia, but still cares deeply for his little sister.

- Orion still speaks with his parents frequently. They returned to a villa in Tuscany where they live comfortably and happily. His father still thinks Orion is one hell of an author and can do no wrong. Orion's mother always sees him as a scrawny lad who needs more supper and a nice lover.

- They have brunch every other month when Orion flies out to visit them.

- Amira is close with her older brother and sees him as her primary support after their parents died. They were not very close when their parents were alive but the simultaneous passing of their family brought the siblings together to support one another in grief.

- Amira still misses her family every day.

- Maya's father was a professional surfer before he got into an accident during a competition and lost his legs. Kaya's mother takes care of her father most of the time and the two are hobby farmers. Kaya does what she can to help them enjoy their more self sustaining lifestyle.

- Julie never met her father but always was told that he was a good man who had some hard choices in life to make. Very close with her mother and has little art get-togethers with her mother almost every week. Julie inherited the shop from her mother and grew up painting along side her.

- Hada has not spoken with her parents ever since her brother was kicked out for being trans. She decided to cut all ties with everyone other than Hahne because he had always been the one who was there for her when she needed him to be.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #my oc #evan rothchester #amira woods #walter woods #hahne yamare #hada yamare

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