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#story
emily-charles · 5 minutes ago
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An Old, True Story
This is an old, old story, but I was just reminded of it, so I wanted to share it.   I'm broken. I suffer from C-PTSD, PTSD, and a bunch of other BS. But I always think of kintsugi. The Japanese art of fixing something broken with gold. I may be broken, but I am beautiful in spite of my scars.   I understand that I cannot stand for the whole community. People who suffer from C-PTSD/PTSD or from narcissists: we all have our own personal experiences and deal with these kinds of things in our own way. I typically use my weird sense of humor to deal with it. In the close-up, life is so serious; it's a tragedy, but once it's in the distance a little, it becomes a comedy. I think it helps me the most because life is too short not to laugh at shit like that. The stuff I can't laugh at, I compartmentalize and tuck it away.   Like when people misuse the word narcissist, and gosh does it happen a LOT. Same with the word triggered. When my doctor diagnosed me as having C-PTSD, she said I would have certain triggers. Due to the internet making fun of the word 'triggered' so much, I actually laughed. I thought it was funny. I simply have looked at too many memes, and I laughed. I don't know what she expected of me when she gave me my diagnosis, but I don't think it was that. I don't stand for the whole community, but to me, my weird sense of humor has gotten me through a lot. Like once, my mother whom we've affectionately nicknamed Pennywise, forgot to pick me up (from a whale watching tour in BC while we were visiting family). And being the black sheep of the family, the adopted child, I was used to being forgotten. I waited around for about forty minutes and then gave up and started trudging in the direction I thought my uncle's place was. BTW, it turns out she forgot ALL about me because she was shopping. We were in a different province, and she got distracted by going shopping.   I walked about two miles in the direction of my uncle's place hoping I'd find it, and this super retro VW bus stopped and picked me up. These old hippies in this bus were awesome. We just clicked right away and we were laughing the whole ride. And they happened to be neighbors with my uncle whom we were visiting. It was great. They were great. And my Aunt really tore my mother a new one when she finally reappeared with several shopping bags.   My aunt made my mother apologize to me.   My mother STILL to this day, HATES my aunt.   A few years later, I did a DNA test (Ancestry AND 23 and me) -- and I found out, I was actually related to the woman in the VW bus. She was apart of my biological family. Life is weird. Super weird sometimes.   We reconnected and I remembered them. I asked if they still had the VW bus, and she was so confused how I knew they even HAD a VW bus, and I explained that she once picked up a lone girl on a road, on the island, and drove me to my adopted family's place. And she and her husband actually remembered me. Sometimes, life is too weird to not be funny. If Pennywise had been on time, I never would have met them. I never would have laughed with them, or gotten to ride in that old VW bus with them, or clicked with them so abruptly. Or remembered them years later, when I finally did the DNA test.   Life's too weird not to be funny sometimes.  
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lesbians-all-the-way-down · 7 minutes ago
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Original lil one-shot. Afterlife fic. Sorrel & Ivy meet Remus & Rainey (Mostly rambling)
I couldn't explain what I felt, looking at the two women.
They were familiar, my heart felt too full looking at both of them, there together.
One with golden hair that fell down her back, and glasses slipping down her nose as she tilted her head downwards- the other woman whispering something in her ear.
She looked almost identical to how Carlisle would have, if she didn't pierce her face, and dye her hair. All of their facial features were the same.
The other woman's hair was blue, but her face was soft, slightly rounded, but not to the point it was a circle.
She looked like Rue, but with piercings and tattoos. And that meant she looked like me.
They smiled as they interacted, and I smiled as I watched them. Almost reaching for Ivy, who I knew was beside me, but I couldn't see, when I was too busy staring.
"Ives- do they- do you recognize them?"
"I do. They look like Grandma Remus. And Rainey. Do you think-"
"The afterlife's huge- how did- I didn't think we'd see them. Do you- do you think they can see us?"
The thought, the possiblity, had been in the back of my head our entire journey.
I hadn't stopped thinking that maybe after I'd get to see the people that made me, and loved me, for the short time we had together.
That I'd get to meet them in a way I'd remember.
"I think they're distracted, but if they weren't, yes. I think the could see us. Everyone else could."
I nodded, still looking only at them. Not at Ivy.
I started moving, "Go home, Ivy. I'll follow you. But I need to meet them first."
"No. Sorrel. What if you don't make it back?"
"No one will miss me. I don't have parents, but I could. Jamie will be broken if she loses you. And Harper too. I will follow you, I promise. But that's my mom. And mama."
"And they're my grandparents."
"Someone needs to get back home, to explain in case something happens."
"I'm not leaving you. Now let's go."
I only saw her then because she stood in front of me, going up to the two women. And not going home like I expected.
She walked to them, her back straight- almost to the point of making her seem taller, and I heard her talk.
"Remus?" The golden haired one looked up, away from where her wife was murmuring in her ear. "Rainey?"
"Ivy?" It was the golden haired one. It was Remus, clearly, when not only did she look like her, but she knew who she was so quickly.
"yeah how- how did you know?"
"You look exactly like James. But shorter, somehow." She laughed, and the sound felt like coming home to a place that had been destroyed- you felt all the love you once had. The warmth it once provided you with. But it was mixed with a crushing grief. Everything you'd lost staring you in the face. And reminding you.
When her laughter subsided she touched Ivy's chin, her touch clearly gentle. "What happened?"
"Nothing- or not- not nothing. We're alive-"
"we're?" It was Rainey, who looked past her, and get bright purple eyes landed on me.
"Sorrel?"
I nodded from where I was watching. But I didn't approach.
She did, though. And so did Remus. Ivy with them.
"You're so big. You're all grown up. You must be in college." Rainey was cooing over me, and it was clear Remus was feeling the same way. For both me, and Ivy.
"how did you know I wasn't Rue? Everyone always confuses us." I wanted to say something else. To tell them about me. To just hold them. To tell them I loved them.
But I didn't. I couldn't. It was like I was starstruck.
"Rue has my eyes. She always has. But yours are blue. And not- not like Will's. Like your mom's. I don't- I don't know how. But you've always had hers."
That was true. Almost all of us were blue eyed children. Almost all of us with the same identical shade too. It was just the three who's eyes weren't blue at all that didn't. And Will, who's eyes were several shades darker.
I miss you, I wanted to say.
"I go to a school for the Arts. I- I dance. Ballet. I- I think they're disappointed in you." I told her.
I heard the most about my mama from James, and all my other siblings.
But I also heard about her from the teachers at the school- some had danced with her. It was always an example of what not to do, though.
She was at the top, young and promising, and then she just left.
'don't do that' 'we lost a good dancer.' they liked to mention she was accepted into the school with a full scholarship, before she declined and left dance all together.
I was surprised I got In at all, when they had seemed to have such a grudge against my name.
"I didn't know I made such an impact in the dance world that they'd talk about me, still. And they wouldn't want me, if they knew what I looked like."
"What do you mean? You look like you." It felt weird as I said it- how was I to say what she looked like? She was new to me. It was like telling a stranger they looked as they always did.
"I used to be pretty, like you, until I ruined it.
"You are so beautiful, Sorrel, you grew up to be an amazing woman."
She stopped looking at me, and looked at Ivy, "And you grew up to be fantastic. Remus is right, you look exactly like your mother."
Ivy nodded. Taking the compliments from people she desperately wished to know.
"You don't know me," I said, instead of taking my mother's nice words to heart. "You don't know what I've grown up to be, you weren't there."
"And we're sorry about that, Sor." I wanted to flinch away from Remus, and from the nickname no one used for me, but I'd been told my mom had. Something special- and now that she was dead, sacred.
"We wanted to see you grow up. I wish I could've been there for Carlisle, when Jace was sick. I was supposed to babysit you, Ivy, the week I was hospitalized.
"And Sorrel, Mon Amour, I wanted nothing more than to take care of you. You're my baby. You always have been. When I was sick I spent all the time I could with you, so that I would know the exact shade of your eyes even with my eyes closed.
"No one wanted to leave you. Not me, and not your mama.” 
“There wasn’t a choice in it, we didn’t walk out, we-”
 “Died. I know.” I cut Rainey off, from where she was adding to her wife’s statement.
Looking at them felt like someone was taking a knife and cutting through my chest, with faces I recognized but only from photos, And voices I’d imagined telling me stories since Jamie explained that she wasn’t my mother. 
But is that what they were? I was finally with them, I could finally hear those voices- Remus calling me Sor like everyone said she did. They weren’t ‘mom’ and ‘mama’ in my head. 
“I’m sorry. I-”  
“It’s okay, we get it. You feel abandoned.” Ivy was being awfully quiet- was she not the one that approached? That had refused to leave without seeing them too? I looked back at her, instead of having to look at Remus- who’s eyes now looked at me sadly, but really were mine, and Ivy’s too. 
If they were so quick to hold me as and love me as their daughter why couldn’t I love them as my moms?
“Is Jace here?” So many words from my mouth, just deflecting. No, ‘I love you’s or ‘I miss you’s. But everything and anything else. “Do you get to see both your granddaughters?” 
“Yeah, she’s at home, with everyone else. She looks like her mom, like Ivy does.” Remus paused for a second- I would’ve assumed it was the end of her sentence, but her mouth was left slightly open, and her eyes widened as she looked to Ivy. “You- you should meet Ivy, She’s with Alice, but she would want to meet you. I told her about you when I first saw her, she asked about your mom immediately. I think she’d love to see you.” 
Ivy’s short bob fell like curtains in front of her face as she nodded. “I would love to meet her too. Someone who had meant so much to my mom.” 
“She did,” I watched Remus put her hand on her cheek, watching the tanned hand, her long slim fingers just a couple shades darker than Ivy’s pale, pale skin- she hadn’t touched me, yet. Neither had Rainey. “They were inseparable. Like it looks like you two are.” 
She reached for Rainey’s hand, gently pulling the other from her granddaughters face. “We can lead you to her.” 
Ivy nodded enthusiasm in every muscle, with a growing smile on her face. 
“Fantastic,” Remus’s voice was soft, as she turned, and starting walking away, her wife directly beside her and granddaughter just behind. 
I was farther behind. Was I included in this offer? Had they decided that I was a waste of a daughter, and Ivy would be a perfect replacement? 
I followed, but hesitantly. Until Rainey half turned around, and smiled. “You coming, Sorrel?” 
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no-footprints-in-the-snow · 12 minutes ago
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This is an old, old story, but I was just reminded of it, so I wanted to share it. I'm broken. I suffer from C-PTSD, PTSD, and a bunch of other BS. But I always think of kintsugi. The Japanese art of fixing something broken with gold. I may be broken, but I am beautiful in spite of my scars. I understand that I cannot stand for the whole community. People who suffer from C-PTSD/PTSD or from narcissists: we all have our own personal experiences and deal with these kinds of things in our own way. I typically use my weird sense of humor to deal with it. In the close-up, life is so serious; it's a tragedy, but once it's in the distance a little, it becomes a comedy. I think it helps me the most because life is too short not to laugh at shit like that. The stuff I can't laugh at, I compartmentalize and tuck it away. Like when people misuse the word narcissist, and gosh does it happen a LOT. Same with the word triggered. When my doctor diagnosed me as having C-PTSD, she said I would have certain triggers. Due to the internet making fun of the word 'triggered' so much, I actually laughed. I thought it was funny. I simply have looked at too many memes, and I laughed. I don't know what she expected of me when she gave me my diagnosis, but I don't think it was that. I don't stand for the whole community, but to me, my weird sense of humor has gotten me through a lot. Like once, my mother whom we've affectionately nicknamed Pennywise, forgot to pick me up (from a whale watching tour in BC while we were visiting family). And being the black sheep of the family, the adopted child, I was used to being forgotten. I waited around for about forty minutes and then gave up and started trudging in the direction I thought my uncle's place was. BTW, it turns out she forgot ALL about me because she was shopping. We were in a different province, and she got distracted by going shopping. I walked about two miles in the direction of my uncle's place hoping I'd find it, and this super retro VW bus stopped and picked me up. These old hippies in this bus were awesome. We just clicked right away and we were laughing the whole ride. And they happened to be neighbors with my uncle whom we were visiting. It was great. They were great. And my Aunt really tore my mother a new one when she finally reappeared with several shopping bags. My aunt made my mother apologize to me. My mother STILL to this day, HATES my aunt. A few years later, I did a DNA test (Ancestry AND 23 and me) -- and I found out, I was actually related to the woman in the VW bus. She was apart of my biological family. Life is weird. Super weird sometimes.  We reconnected and I remembered them. I asked if they still had the VW bus, and she was so confused how I knew they even HAD a VW bus, and I explained that she once picked up a lone girl on a road, on the island, and drove me to my adopted family's place. And she and her husband actually remembered me. Sometimes, life is too weird to not be funny. If Pennywise had been on time, I never would have met them. I never would have laughed with them, or gotten to ride in that old VW bus with them, or clicked with them so abruptly. Or remembered them years later, when I finally did the DNA test. Life's too weird not to be funny sometimes.
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timkafantaris · 27 minutes ago
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Together Page 1
I drew this last March as a single page comic. Towards the end of 2020 it started to become something more and the story expanded into a 13 page comic that I’ll be posting during the next few weeks. I hope you enjoy it!
#comic #comics #story #storytelling #blackandwhite #art #digitalart #indie #indiecomic #indiecomics #procreate #procreateart #adventure #protector #digital
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beguines · 27 minutes ago
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Story is the history of individuals coming together in the struggle to shape life according to commonly held values. The Jewish story is found in the Hebrew Bible and the Rabbinic traditions. The early Christian story is told in the Old and New Testaments, with the emphasis on the latter as the fulfillment of the former. The white American story is found in the history of European settlements struggling against dark forests and savage people to found a new nation. The Black American story is recorded in the songs, tales, and narratives of African slaves and their descendants, as they attempted to survive with dignity in a land inimical to their existence. Every people has a story to tell, something to say to themselves, their children, and to the world about how they think and live, as they determine and affirm their reason for being. The story both expresses and participates in the miracle of moving from nothing to something, from nonbeing to being.
When people ask me, "How do you know that what you say is true?" my reply is: "Ultimately, I don't know and neither does anybody else." We are creatures of history, not divine beings. I cannot claim infinite knowledge. What I can do is to bear witness to my story, to tell it and live it, as the story grips my life and pulls me out of nothingness into being. However, I am not imprisoned within my story. Indeed, when I understand truth as story, I am more likely to be open to other people's truth stories. As I listen to other stories, I am invited to move out of the subjectivity of my own story into another realm of thinking and acting. The same is true for others when I tell my story.
It is only when stories are abstracted from a concrete situation and codified into Law or dogma that their life-blood is taken away and thus a people begins to think that its ways of thinking and living are the only real possibilities. When people can no longer listen to other people's stories, they become enclosed within their own social context, treating their distorted visions of reality as the whole truth. And then they feel that they must destroy other stories, which bear witness that life can be lived in another way. White people's decimation of red people and enslavement of black people in North America are examples of attempts to deprive people of their stories, in order to establish the white story as the only truth in history. That was why slaves were not permitted to communicate in their African languages and why red people were placed on reservations. White people were saying that black and red stories were lies and superstitions that have no place in a "civilized" country. From some perspectives, the white story of black enslavement may be a "valid" story, but from the perspective of the victims it is a tale of terror and bloodshed. From the biblical view it is an epic of rebellion, the usurpation of God's rule. In other words it is ideology.
Story can serve as a check against ideological thinking, especially from the biblical perspective. If theologians wish to retain the dialectic of story as a crucial ingredient of the gospel message, then their language about that message must speak less of philosophical principles and more of concrete events in the lives of the people. We must assume that the biblical story has its own integrity and truth independent of our subjective states. We are not free to read just anything into the biblical story. Whatever may be someone's view about the Scripture from another faith standpoint, anyone who reads the Bible sympathetically can hardly overlook its central focal point: the proclamation that God in Christ has come to redeem humankind. From this assumption, we must move through human history, Christian and non-Christian, asking what is the relation of God's story in Christ to human stories, especially to our own. By assuming that the biblical story exists independently of our stories and that it lays a claim upon us in our contemporary existence, we are forced to move out of our subjectivity and to hear the Word that we do not possess. And if we accept the One to whom the Bible points, then we know that the validity of our stories in the world is dependent upon God's affirmation of us as God's own possession. God's story becomes our story through the faith made possible by the grace of God's presence with us.
James Cone, God of the Oppressed
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zonaxanderrr · 29 minutes ago
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PINK FLOYD - wish you were here #potonganmusik #wishyouwerehere #pinkfloyd #pinkfloydband #cassette #kaset #kasettape #kasetpita #musikbarat #musikindonesia #musiknostalgia #musikindie #musikrock #muusikjadul #radiojadul #story #storyig #storyinstagram #storywa #storywhatsapp #rock #hardrock #rockmusic #rockindonesia #rocknroll #rockabilly #indomusikgram #videomusikgram #missyoubodoh #zonaxanderrr https://www.instagram.com/p/CN0GbgxHiYt/?igshid=zayzc1mdlcc5
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golpofuncartoon · 55 minutes ago
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Pencil | Bengali cartoon Pencil | Bangla Golpo Pencil | Pencil cartoon s...
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sweetness-of-faith · 56 minutes ago
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سورة القصص
أعوذ بالله من الشيطان الرجيم
إِنَّ قَارُونَ كَانَ مِنْ قَوْمِ مُوسَىٰ فَبَغَىٰ عَلَيْهِمْ ۖ وَآتَيْنَاهُ مِنَ الْكُنُوزِ مَا إِنَّ مَفَاتِحَهُ لَتَنُوءُ بِالْعُصْبَةِ أُولِي الْقُوَّةِ إِذْ قَالَ لَهُ قَوْمُهُ لَا تَفْرَحْ ۖ إِنَّ اللَّهَ لَا يُحِبُّ الْفَرِحِينَ * وَابْتَغِ فِيمَا آتَاكَ اللَّهُ الدَّارَ الْآخِرَةَ ۖ وَلَا تَنْسَ نَصِيبَكَ مِنَ الدُّنْيَا ۖ وَأَحْسِنْ كَمَا أَحْسَنَ اللَّهُ إِلَيْكَ ۖ وَلَا تَبْغِ الْفَسَادَ فِي الْأَرْضِ ۖ إِنَّ اللَّهَ لَا يُحِبُّ الْمُفْسِدِينَ
قَالَ إِنَّمَا أُوتِيتُهُ عَلَىٰ عِلْمٍ عِنْدِي ۚ أَوَلَمْ يَعْلَمْ أَنَّ اللَّهَ قَدْ أَهْلَكَ مِنْ قَبْلِهِ مِنَ الْقُرُونِ مَنْ هُوَ أَشَدُّ مِنْهُ قُوَّةً وَأَكْثَرُ جَمْعًا ۚ وَلَا يُسْأَلُ عَنْ ذُنُوبِهِمُ الْمُجْرِمُونَ
فَخَرَجَ عَلَىٰ قَوْمِهِ فِي زِينَتِهِ ۖ قَالَ الَّذِينَ يُرِيدُونَ الْحَيَاةَ الدُّنْيَا يَا لَيْتَ لَنَا مِثْلَ مَا أُوتِيَ قَارُونُ إِنَّهُ لَذُو حَظٍّ عَظِيمٍ * وَقَالَ الَّذِينَ أُوتُوا الْعِلْمَ وَيْلَكُمْ ثَوَابُ اللَّهِ خَيْرٌ لِمَنْ آمَنَ وَعَمِلَ صَالِحًا وَلَا يُلَقَّاهَا إِلَّا الصَّابِرُونَ
فَخَسَفْنَا بِهِ وَبِدَارِهِ الْأَرْضَ فَمَا كَانَ لَهُ مِنْ فِئَةٍ يَنْصُرُونَهُ مِنْ دُونِ اللَّهِ وَمَا كَانَ مِنَ الْمُنْتَصِرِينَ * وَأَصْبَحَ الَّذِينَ تَمَنَّوْا مَكَانَهُ بِالْأَمْسِ يَقُولُونَ وَيْكَأَنَّ اللَّهَ يَبْسُطُ الرِّزْقَ لِمَنْ يَشَاءُ مِنْ عِبَادِهِ وَيَقْدِرُ ۖ لَوْلَا أَنْ مَنَّ اللَّهُ عَلَيْنَا لَخَسَفَ بِنَا ۖ وَيْكَأَنَّهُ لَا يُفْلِحُ الْكَافِرُونَ
تِلْكَ الدَّارُ الْآخِرَةُ نَجْعَلُهَا لِلَّذِينَ لَا يُرِيدُونَ عُلُوًّا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَلَا فَسَادًا ۚ وَالْعَاقِبَةُ لِلْمُتَّقِينَ * مَنْ جَاءَ بِالْحَسَنَةِ فَلَهُ خَيْرٌ مِنْهَا ۖ وَمَنْ جَاءَ بِالسَّيِّئَةِ فَلَا يُجْزَى الَّذِينَ عَمِلُوا السَّيِّئَاتِ إِلَّا مَا كَانُوا يَعْمَلُونَ
إِنَّ الَّذِي فَرَضَ عَلَيْكَ الْقُرْآنَ لَرَادُّكَ إِلَىٰ مَعَادٍ ۚ قُلْ رَبِّي أَعْلَمُ مَنْ جَاءَ بِالْهُدَىٰ وَمَنْ هُوَ فِي ضَلَالٍ مُبِينٍ
سورة القصص، من الآية 76 إلى 85
Qarun was one of Moses’ people, but he oppressed them. We had given him such treasures that even their keys would have weighed down a whole company of strong men. His people said to him, ‘Do not gloat, for God does not like people who gloat.
Seek the life to come by means of what God has granted you, but do not neglect your rightful share in this world. Do good to others as God has done good to you. Do not seek to spread corruption in the land, for God does not love those who do this,’ but he answered, ‘This wealth was given to me on account of the knowledge I possess.’ Did he not know that God had destroyed many generations before him, who had greater power than him and built up greater wealth? The guilty will not be questioned about their sins.
He went out among his people in all his pomp, and those whose aim was the life of this world said, ‘If only we had been given something like what Qarun has been given: he really is a very fortunate man,’ but those who were given knowledge said, ‘Alas for you! God’s reward is better for those who believe and do good deeds: only those who are steadfast will attain this.’
We caused the earth to swallow him and his home: he had no one to help him against God, nor could he defend himself.
The next day, those who had, the day before, wished to be in his place exclaimed, ‘Alas [for you, Qarun]! It is God alone who gives what He will, abundantly or sparingly, to whichever He will of His creatures: if God had not been gracious to us, He would have caused the earth to swallow us too.’ Alas indeed! Those who deny the truth will never prosper.
We grant the Home in the Hereafter to those who do not seek superiority on earth or spread corruption: the happy ending is awarded to those who are mindful of God.
Whoever comes before God with a good deed will receive a better reward; whoever comes with an evil deed will be punished only for what he has done.
He who has made the Quran binding on you [Prophet] will bring you back home. So say, ‘My Lord knows best who has brought true guidance and who is blatantly astray.’
Quran 28:76-85
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writingoneshots · 59 minutes ago
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Thank you!
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I just realized that we have 50+ crew members on this blog! Thank you.. so.. freaking much! Because of recent events on Twitch, I've felt a bit demotivated. (Followers have secretly bought me extra followers and I just realized it after Twitch had a massive-bot-erasing-day.) I really hope that you cannot do this here too otherwise I will ask Kid for help to beat some booties - not in the way you guys like it. As a 'thank you' gift, I've decided to create a little event soon. We can use this as a starter for any future events. I'll give you a little hint: I write the story - and you tell me what to do ;) ! I'll just have to figure out a way to let you guys vote/decide but I am sure it will be fun. Would anyone be interested to participate? (I still have requests to work on. I did not reject anyone so far. Please be patient.) Hope you're having a lovely evening/day!
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wonderlandmoonrose7 · an hour ago
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Concept: an assassin/target story but with a powerful witch or faerie that keeps trying to find an excuse to curse this one person but keeps failing and eventually realizes they’re actually an amazing person
They disguise themselves as an old lady and ask for shelter? The person let’s them in and gives them the nicest guest room.
They ask for a sip of water at a well? The person goes and fetches them their own pail so they don’t have to resort to begging.
The faerie just keeps trying more and more convoluted ways to prove that this person is selfish and evil but just ends up falling in love with them. I dunno, it sounds really sweet and funny
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So im currently really sick and have fevers, ya? And this is like the first time in my life im having that. I didnt take a pill once before bed and my fever dream had me be like water or earth bender, but the only thing i could move were my teeth
So now i have vivid nemory of my teeth floating in a circle in front of me and me feeling every little move.
Kinda like when you drink acidic stuff and your teeth feel soft
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bubustagram · an hour ago
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[PICTURE] 210419 taeoxo_nct Instagram Story : https://soundcloud.com/taeoxo/blue
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missyoubodoh · 2 hours ago
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RADJA - sahur #potonganmusik #sahur #sahursahur #radja #radjaband #kaset #kasetpita #kasettape #nostalgia #musiknostalgia #bandindonesia #story #storyig #storyinstagram #storywa #storywhatsapp #musikindie #musikindonesia #indie #cassette #radiojadul #musikjadul #ramadhan2021 #rock #rockindonesia #band90an #band2000an #indomusikgram #videomusikgram #missyoubodoh https://www.instagram.com/p/CNz7pDTHf_l/?igshid=np8cvcobe59a
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teriyachi · 2 hours ago
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На днях прочитала Сомерсета Моэма "маг", и даже не знаю какое впечатление у меня вызвала эта книга.
В ней много оккультизма, мистики, что понятно из названия, и что собственно привлекло меня.
С одной стороны, тему оккультизма было очень интересно читать, как и любовную линию, скорее, любовный квадрат. И здесь было довольно много неожиданных моментов, которые действительно меня немного шокировали.
Но меня напрягло то, что в конце концов там страдает женщина из-за конфликта двух мужчин, в котором один задел достоинство другого.
Но в общем то, довольно интересный и загадочный роман(?), по которому можно сделать вывод о том, что все всегда врощается вокруг женщин.
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Cedoria's State Visit Day~1
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Cedoria's State Visit Day~1
Today begins the Royal State visit with HRH Prince Oliver and his wife Princess Charlotte, Duke and Duchess of Eynsworth. Royal couple has just came back from their honeymoon. King Albert alongside with his wife, Queen Maria warmly greeted newlyweds and invited them for a private dinner to get to know each other better as it is a first visit of Prince Oliver and Princess Charlotte in Cornwall.
@thebaillieroyals
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candyapplecarcinogen · 2 hours ago
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More dreams.
More dreams of a swallowing blackness. It yawns as an echoing gap inside your very essence, desperate to fill you and end you. You want to scream, but then it'd have a way out.
You wake up.
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bigbadboii1016 · 2 hours ago
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2021.04.18
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HIH Princess Minerva has a Day Full of Engagements
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HIH Princess Minerva was seen at the University of Siene with University President Calloway on a tour of the University, where Her Imperial Highness graduated with her undergraduate degree in Anthropology. President Calloway, also an alum of the University of Siene, pointed out some of the recent renovations to enhance student learning while Princess Minerva pointed out some other things that could also help student engagement.
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Her Imperial Highness and President Calloway posed in front of the Golden Book. HIH wore a white slightly cropped turtleneck and black jeans from retalier S&M, a black blazer from Popshop along with a pair of her trusted Succi nude heels and a black beret also from S&M. Within the hour of the images being released, the pieces sold out and caused the store sites to crash.
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After her visit to the University of Siene, HIH Princess Minerva went to a Pups for Life Event in nearby Brichester with her faithful pup Marley. Her Imperial Highness ditched the beret and waved to the assembled press before interacting with fellow dog owners and potential adopters. Many Royal watchers comment on the striking similarity of the above photo with one taken from obviously much happier times
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Her Imperial Highness pictured in happier times with HRH Crown Prince Nicholas's dog Paradise( 📷: @simsroyallegacy)
Many Imperial Fashion Fascinators are noticing the stunning difference in colors used by Her Imperial Highness, noting the lack of light blue, a color we had been seeing worked into Her Imperial Highness's outfits plenty before the infamous conversation with HRH Crown Prince Nicholas. Attendees at the Pups for Life event noticed that the Princess would at times become wistful and pensive as she watched her pup, Marley, play around which has caused some to think she is remembering happier times in Lunaria.
Not one to be slowed down, HIH went from Brichester were she spent a lot of her graduate school time, to the Imperial Palais de Roufort to host the Emperor's Scholars, a competitive scholarship program that pays for half of their Graduate Studies for those who have goals of bettering the Empire in all fields, on behalf of His Imperial Majesty Emperor David.
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HIH milling around with Emperor's Scholars discussing their post university plans.
Her Imperial Highness, a relatively recent grad, was seen engaging the Scholars in intense discussions and even pairing up scholars whose goals work well together.
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Her Imperial Highness wore a stunning hand painted black and white dress by designer Sior for the event, leading more and more fashion watchers to latch onto the lack of color in HIH's outfits. While some conservative watchers have shook their heads at the Princess not wearing Pierreland blue, more people have been supportive of the stylish black and white ensembles the Princess has been rocking.
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And rounding out the looks for Princess Minerva's busy day, is a very dramatic dress by Pierreland Designer Alexander François. The black dress has a scandalous cut in the center of the dress and is held together with a halter neck, stunning all at the event. While images of HIH meeting operatic soprano Maria Alexandra and tenor Pierre Calastrano were not captured, an image of HIH clearly enjoying the performance from the Imperial box was captured.
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And with a night at the opera, HIH's whirlwind day in Pierreland seems to be over, Her Imperial Highness will be leaving at first light tomorrow to head over to the Kingdom of Charleston, where her younger cousin Michael, Count of Dijon is currently serving as Ambassador.
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