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#the world needs more love

moonlightloverrr · 2 months

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I think some of us were just meant to experience life more deeply. We don’t watch sunsets, we feel them. When others cry, we cry too. We’re painstakingly present yet constantly living in a state of nostalgia for the past. We’re highly alert to the beauty and the pain in the world and long for a future where the good that’s been lost can be restored.

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joyful-enchantress · 1 month

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I could sure use a hug.

So that made me realize that I’m probably not the only one who feels that way.

So here’s a hug for you. Feel free to take it if you need it. In fact, take as many hugs as you need 🩷

#i need a hug #we could probably all use a hug #the world needs more love #joyful enchantress says

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huong1952 · 4 months

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huong1952: Oh Gentle Baby, Do Not Cry!

Distant lights flicker,

Angels' songs faintly heard,

Kings from afar struggle under lightning flashes,

Shepherds hiding in caves, their flock stands still...

In this Silent Night,

Mother's heart slowed,

Father's eyes alerted,

Where is that Star of Peace?

Oh Gentle Baby, Do Not Cry!

We are on our knees waiting for you

To bring light to our dreams,

To teach us how to love again...

#huong1952 #Christmas 2023 #Gentle Baby #Do not cry #nativity #war #exile #star of peace #light #dreams #love #The World Needs More Love #tears for the displaced #prayers #humanity

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kiralena · 8 months

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I love Good Omens, but I have one big problem: my fear Aziraphale and Crowley won't get their happily ever after together.

The cruel ending of TROS destroyed my ability to trust creators. I can't enjoy stories any more wholeheartedly, because of the looming fear there will be utterly pain at the ending for one or both of the lovers.

Being ripped half of you soul, living the rest of your life with a hole in your heart...

I can't have this any more. I want joy at the ending, having the feeling of being lifted up after finishing a book/movie/series, not being crushed down and stomped into the dust, mixed with rusty nails and glass shards.

#happy endings ftw #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens #Crowley #Aziraphale #let them be happy #the world needs more love #the world need more love not pain

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always-is-always · 10 months

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Hate in the fandom is never okay. It is the antithesis of everything that BTS stands for.

To outright say to a total stranger that you hate them like the Anon said, is completely inexcuseable. It also is a clear indication of the emotional maturity of that Anon..... or, the lack of.

I’m so over seeing such division. I just don’t understand why people feel such a deep need to fight over the most unimportant things (like that Anon), to exude negativity (like that Anon), or to feel outright hatred for a complete stranger who has done NOTHING to that Anon (other than holding differing beliefs)....

What is up with this fandom? How can we help shift and move it in a direction of unity and positivity? That place where we can agree to disagree, you know?

I cannot help but feel that Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook would never encourage such negativity or divisiveness. Never, ever in a million years....

Again, I’m on a soapbox here.... I just am so tired of seeing the hate, the negativity, and the overall yucky energy that is within the fandom. There’s enough of that happening out on the world stage, you know....

I think that it may get worse before it gets better. Especially while the guys are all doing their time in the military. Either way, I’ll keep doing my little part to try to inject as much Love into the fandom as possible. It’s a higher frequency than the energy of hate, so it pushes that yuckiness out....

Yeah. So I just got my own answer here.... Just keep sending the vibrations of Love into the collective energy of the fandom, no matter what. It will help, in the long run.

In the end, Love Wins. 💜

#sending bangtan love #sending armys love #love wins #be like jinkookmin #somebody smudge army #got sage?#no more hate #bts never hates #grow up anon #do your work on yourself #the world needs more love

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st0rmyskies · 2 years

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@/down horrendous wildlight anon I'm not the biggest twark fan either but u don't see me droppin mad salt in stormy's dms. use that energy and provide us wildlight shippers some food instead 💪💪💪 im starving -sincerely a wildlight ally

Positive outlets for that Wildlight love go a lot farther than anything else. And I'm not the only creator out here, either.

Anyone who decides to put their mind to it and put down some Wildlight fluff or smut, please send it my way so I can pass it along!

#stormy asks #ally anon #wildlight #the world needs more love #and more wildlight #and/or champlight as it were

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leelany-world · 2 years

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Spread the love in the DBH fandom! 💙

Shout-out to all artists and writers! You are valid and loved! 💙

I’m glad that there are still so many great minds here who feed me us with awesome art and fics!

I wish I could draw to flood this fandom with more stuff myself, to make people happy! (at least I’m trying to write for a small part here 😅)

The other thing I try to do every time is to reblog your great stuff in the hope to spread it at least a bit!

#dbh #detroit become human #Is this cringy? perhaps #but I'm in the mood for this #The world needs more love #😎

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amourlashai · 2 years

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Normalize saying I love you to family, friends, and STRANGERS. 💚

#it’s more to it #I love you #love #love wins #love love love #love quotes #the world needs more love

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angelsonneptune · 1 year

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We can have empathy for humanity, and still disregard and condem horrid actions. Those can both coexist. We can recognize a problem, have our empathy provoked, and decide on a logical plan to help fix that problem. Black and white thinking will do nothing for society but chaos and destruction.

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sushisweetie · 6 months

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I want to live in a world where no one is afraid,

To love,

Or to admit it,

So I'll start with you!

-Atsushi 🤍

Aww, this is so sweet. Whoever you are, I love you too 🤍 Thanks for the sweet message 🤭

#ask: sushisweetie #thanks for the ask!#this is so sweet imma go cry at the corner #the world needs more love

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confessedlyfannish · 24 days

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Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

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gloriousfckingpurpose · 2 months

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i know they underutilized the frankenstein aspect in the movie but it really does feel like the creature was perfectly created for lisa regardless. from what we saw, he spent his whole life lonely; dead parents, isolating social life, failed romantic prospects, the whole shebang, but he never gets to do anything about it because he dies, suddenly and unstoppably. until he’s suddenly alive again and the whole world is different but there’s this girl who tended to his grave when nobody else would have given him that respect, who’s experiencing the same things he did who actually has the chance to get back at the people who didn’t care for her, one tiny bit of familiarity to him… of course he’s going to kill for her just to see her happy.

#i’m just rambling atp but i really love them man #hits esp hard if you’re annoying like me and factor in trans!creature #theres something so intriguing about devotion to the point of destruction #burning the whole world down for a place in each others arms #lisa frankenstein #b.txt #i’m gonna explore this more in my current wip i think #once i get the scene rip refs i need

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always-is-always · 1 year

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The toxic force in ARMY

There is an extremely toxic “force”, or energy per say, that permeates the fandom. It is called hate.

Every time I see anyone post and talk about how they hate something, someone, or a collective of people, I literally cringe. It makes my heartspace and gut (solar plexus) contract, and it feels yucky. Hatred does that, you know.....

Bear with me as I’m not sure how this post is going to flow... It just dropped into my consciousness after reading another comment or post in which a person said that they “hate” something, someone, or such. This post has been coming for a while, I just hadn’t taken the time to just sit and type it out. (AND, I hadn’t been prompted, like I am now. As an intuitive, I work a lot from a different space than the normal 3-D of the world.)

Hate is a disease that has become rampant in the fandom, and it will lead down a precarious path. We are seeing it more and more throughout all parts of ARMY. It doesn’t matter who somebody “ships”, or who somebody “supports”, or whatever it is, or whatever reason it is, hate is toxic. It is so commonly expressed and used throughout cultures that many have forgotten just how it affects other people, and the world overall.

Hate is the opposing force to Love. It is the expression of a darker energy that really wants full control of this beautiful planet that we live upon. (I won’t go further down that rabbit hole. Promise.)

When it is expressed and focused upon, it grows within the person, and also within the collective consciousness of Humanity. All hate is connected, regardless of what it is focused upon or the reason for it’s existance in the person feeling it or expressing it. Love is just like that too, it’s just the opposite side of the coin.

Because I believe that every single Human Being on the planet is responsible for every thought, word, and action that they as individuals engage, I believe that we are also responsible for our contribution to hatred or Love that is housed in the Collective Consciousness of Humanity. (Deep, yeah, but it’s how I navigate.)

My point here is that what the fandom needs less of, is hate. Period. What the fandom needs is to stop hating. Period. Hating only leads to more of the same.

Let things go that cannot be controlled. Take responsibility for the things that can be controlled, and be the person that says “no” to hatred. Be the stopping point in your particular “line” of consciousness in the fandom. Turn up the Love energy and spread that into the fandom, instead.

What happens in the fandom affects BTS.

I’ll repeat. What happens in the fandom affects BTS.

What happens in the fandom affects Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. Because of the connections energetically to the guys that have formed over the years with ARMY, the guys are affected in some way by the energies that are within ARMY. Whether the guys recognize it or not. It is all connected.

One of the greatest things that ARMY can do is to erradicate hate from within, replacing it with kindness and Love. It would be a miraculous thing, and would help this world overall. Love is the only way to counter that toxic force, and I am one who works with Love in a big way, each and every day.

With Love we can work miracles, as ARMY. With Love we can support our beloved Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jiminie, Taehyung, and Jungkook. It will help them in ways that we cannot fathom, and will help free them up to live their lives in the best way possible.

I hope this makes sense to you, if you are this far in the post. I hope you will join me in this, and help with the erradication of the toxicity that is in ARMY. We will all benefit ultimately, and it is the least that we can do.

Thanks for reading. I apprecate all of you, and what you bring to this platform, and to our community here.

Sending you all BIG Love. 💜💜💜