#Elegant Gypsy

[jt1674]

[rastronomicals]

7:47 AM EDT May 30, 2024:

Al Di Meola - "Lady Of Rome Sister Of Brazil" From the album Elegant Gypsy (April 1977)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Fusion with a Les Paul

[jazzdailyblog]

Al Di Meola: The Maestro of Fusion Guitar

Introduction: Al Di Meola is a name synonymous with technical prowess, innovative compositions, and genre-defying collaborations in the world of guitar music. His career, spanning several decades, has seen him push the boundaries of jazz, rock, and world music, earning him a revered place among the guitar greats. This blog post delves into the life, career, and enduring influence of Al Di Meola,…

[musicandotherdelights]

Daily Listening, Day #1,066 - December 1st, 2022

Album: Elegant Gypsy (Columbia, 1977)

Artist: Al Di Meola

Genre: Jazz Fusion

Track Listing: 

"Flight Over Rio"

"Midnight Tango"

"Mediterranean Sundance"

"Race With Devil On Spanish Highway"

"Lady Of Rome, Sister Of Brazil"

"Elegant Gypsy Suite"

Favorite Song: "Flight Over Rio"

[acewritesfics]

This is my Fucking Wedding Day | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: Swearing. S/N - Sister's Name, S/H - Sister's Husband, E/C - Eye Colour.

Word Count: 1,272

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Standing in a slip and stockings with her makeup freshly applied, Y/N tells her mother, "I need to see Tommy."  

"You're well aware that you cannot see him right now. It is unlucky for the groom to see his bride in her wedding gown before she walks down the aisle," Her mother makes her objections known.  

"Have you forgotten who Tommy is?" She inquires while casting a wary gaze at her mother. "That man creates his own bad luck; he doesn't need a ridiculous superstition to create it for him. And also, I won't be wearing my wedding gown."  

"And you still want to marry him? I thought he was a gypsy. Doesn't he believe in such 'ridiculous' superstitions?"  

"You wouldn't need to ask that question if you actually took the time to get to know him," Y/N scolds her. She stops her seamstress from bringing her gown to her, asking for her silk robe instead.  

Her mother has never been accepting of Tommy, and her entire family disapproves of the Birmingham gangster, who will soon become her husband. Her mother and father have no trouble reminding her that Tommy isn't good enough for her, that all he brings is trouble and death, and that she'll be the next to perish, whether it's by his hands or by an enemy that he's enraged. However, despite what others say and have said, she has continued her relationship with the man she loves so deeply.  

She acknowledges that Thomas Shelby isn't a flawless man, but she also believes that he has wonderful qualities and those qualities have led her to fall so in love with him.  

Her father and siblings despise Tommy so much that they refused to attend her wedding. Its broke Y/N's heart when they couldn't even pretend to be happy for her. At least her mother was trying to try for her. Her mother knew she would feel regret and shame for missing her youngest daughter's most important day. Not to mention, she doesn't want to appear prejudiced. The older woman also wed a man that her family didn't approve.  

She defends Tommy and their relationship by saying, "I know he's not perfect like S/N's husband, but I am in love with Tommy, and he loves me."  

The fact that her sister had become pregnant with Andrew, her oldest nephew, after only knowing her husband for two months made it clear why she had wed him. S/H, her husband, is a renowned attorney who is adored by everyone and well regarded in his legal community. Their marriage was good, and they made it work but the only love they shared was the mutual love they had for their children they had together when they tried to make it work, romantically.  

"Now, could you kindly hand me my robe?" she asks, growing irritated with her mother's constant putting down of her soon-to-be husband. The seamstress brought the silk robe to Y/N's mother who handed it to her with a disapproving glare.  

There are times when Y/N's mother regrets being as headstrong and stubborn as she is since now, she has a daughter who is just like her. As a child, Y/N was always the one who resembled her the most since she was independent, headstrong, outspoken and free-spirited. Y/N carried some of those characteristics into adulthood. Those same characteristics helped her to tame her Peaky Blinder lover.  

Y/N pulls on her robe and ties the sash around her waist.  

"Your hair still has to be done," her mother calls after her as she walks toward the door.  

"I'll be back in a moment," She exits the room with a elegant boldness in her step and makes her way to the section of the church where Tommy, his brothers and the rest of his wedding party will be.  

Y/N is just about to knock on the door when Tommy's voice can be heard quite clearly above the others.  

"This is my fucking wedding day! I want you all to be on your best fucking behavior. My bride deserves to have her special day not ruined by anyone, including you lot. If anyone causes any fucking trouble, you will escort them as discreetly as possible out of the building and off the property. Gentlemen, this is not the day for violence. It is a day for celebration. If any of you start fighting, I'll fucking kill you myself. Do you understand what I am saying?"  

Tommy's speech is followed by a chorus of "yes boss."  

She knocks on the door and stands outside the room until someone opens it. She doesn't want to make a spectacle or grab anybody's attention by just being in her robe and a slip. She beams when she sees Finn, who has a surprised expression on his face when he realizes it's his soon-to-be sister-in-law. The youngest Shelby brother is by far her favourite among her in-laws, but she wouldn't admit it to anybody but Tommy. Though he aspires to be just like his brothers, he has never lost the innocence he's carried right through his childhood.   

"Miss Y/L/N, you're not supposed to be here."  

"I am aware, but I need to speak with Tommy. It won't take long, I swear" she promises the teenager. "Would you kindly get him for me?"  

"I can't say no to you, can I?" He chuckles softly and closes the door.  

A few seconds later, Tommy rushes out the door, a worried look on his handsome face. He stops in front of her and reaches for her waist. "Is everything all right?"  

She responds smiling, placing her hand on his face, softly caressing his cheek with her thumb as she looks into his breathtakingly gorgeous blue eyes, which had captured her interest since she first saw him in London three years ago.   

"Everything is perfect, Thomas, but there is something I need to tell you. I've been trying since yesterday morning, but we haven't had a moment alone to ourselves."  

"We're alone now, so what is it?" His voice is gentle and soothing.  

She takes one of his hands from around her waist and moves it toward her lower abdomen. "I learned that the illness I've been experiencing is not just pre-wedding nerves. I saw the doctor the day before yesterday after Polly made a remark about my body changing. Tommy, I'm pregnant."  

"You're pregnant?" His eyes widen in astonishment, yet his lips have a trace of a smile. "You're pregnant!"  

He continues to smile from ear to ear as he ends the kiss. "It's fortunate that our wedding is today. It's one less thing we have to worry about before the baby arrives."  

She looks at him with such affection in her E/C eyes that she lets out a soft giggle at what he said. "I love you, Mr. Shelby."  

"I love you as well, Mrs. Shelby," He responds leaning in to kiss her again.  

She leans in close to his lips and murmurs, "I'm not Mrs. Shelby quite yet."  

"It's just a matter of time," he replies before pressing his lips against hers and kissing her passionately, wanting nothing more than for their wedding to begin so she may become Mrs. Thomas Shelby.  

"Oi, you two leave it for the honeymoon, yeah?" Arthur's gruff voice broke the almost newlyweds apart. "Now Miss Y/L/N, I don't mean to sound rude, but you best be off to finish getting ready."  

"I'm on my way," she tells the oldest Shelby brother as she steps back from Thomas and leaves to go back to her chamber, leaving the two brothers to finish getting ready themselves. 

[nthspecialll]

Red dead characters as horses, based not on vibes but personality.

Firstly, I am an equestrian of twelve years I know that a horse's breed doesn't fully determine it's personality and you can find any horse of any breed with any personality, but this is based on stereotypes, my own personal experience and well... Google. Again, this is not by vibes, but personality so reflect a little from horse to person.

Arthur Morgan - American Quarter Horse

No matter if it is a show pony or a workhorse you are looking for, the American Quarter Horse got you. It is known for being easy to handle but reliable no matter the job given. It is a good all-around horse and can handle anything from beginner lessons to high-level competitions.

Hosea Matthews - Norwegian Fjord Horse

Very sweet and docile-looking horse but make no mistake, this beast has more opinion, sass and stubbornness than you would ever imagine. Intelligent in the way that it is fully aware of the people around it and knows when it is time to play tricks and run corners and when it is time to play it sweet. The second you dare underestimate it it will remind you that it is in fact stronger than what you might expect.

Dutch Van Der Linde - The Andalusian

A horse breed known widely for being elegant and fancy but unlike many other hot blooded (reactive) horses, tends not to get hurt as easily, coming out fine from situations where the other hot blooded might have gotten wounded in. Although known for being smart, attentive and sensible, they can easily become too much to handle if handled wrongly.

John Marston - The Arabian

Now I know some people are gonna be like "no that doesn't fit at all!" but hold on, just listen, hear me out. Although generally known for being hot-headed, hard to control and stupid, they are actually quite intelligent, have a high endurance and are well aware of their surroundings. With dense and strong bone structure they are quite resilient to much, however they do tend to get wounded in their own hot-headedness... (John I am looking at you strolling up to Fort Mercer and getting fkn shot on sight, tf you thought was gonna happen?)

Javier Escuella - American Mustang

A wild horse known for its stubborn spirit and the lengths it will go to for freedom. It takes a long time trusting, however once having earned its heart it is the most loyal you can find. It is also a highly adaptable horse.

Bill Williamson - Irish Cob/Gypsy Vanner (Same breed, different name)

Lazy, hard to get moving and often seen as bad, the last choice or a breed that wouldn't hold up in bigger competitions, however is actually quite good and does any job well. They are eager to please (Bill to Dutch) and can also grow a beard!

Till Jackson - The Shetland Pony

Small and very adorable looking to a point one thinks they are harmless, and while they can be very sweet, they are going to throw you the second you least expect it. They will not let their short stature and cute appearance be a disadvantage to them but instead use it against others. (Knew one that bit the taller horse's stomach and became the damn leader of that herd)

Charles Smith - The Friesian

Often seen as scary and frightening looking due to their tough exterior, however they are very kind-hearted and highly intelligent. They are loyal and well-mannered, very reliable and makes a good companion.

Kieran Duffy - The Haflinger

A very gentle and generally curious fella. Known for being very friendly and people-oriented. If you spend any time around them you will also often find out that they are quite silly, however make no mistake, they are still horses and thus will always be dangerous.

Josiah Trelawny - Pryor Mountain Mustang

An endangered form of Mustang that are known for elegance and athleticism and while could easily make for a great show pony there is a few problems. They are not very reliable as they are quite skittish and tend to flee as well as be quite hard to tame and tie down.

[journalofanoldsoul]

Women Perfume Recommendations

Here are some perfume recommendations based on the main character traits associated with each Venus sign (Natal Chart) :

Venus in Aries: A bold and energetic sign, Venus in Aries women are confident and assertive. They can try fragrances with vibrant and spicy notes such as cinnamon, ginger, and pepper. A recommendation would be "Spicebomb" by Viktor & Rolf.

Venus in Taurus: Known for their sensuality and love for luxury, Venus in Taurus women appreciate earthy and indulgent scents. Look for perfumes with notes of rose, vanilla, and musk. A recommendation would be "Flowerbomb" by Viktor & Rolf.

Venus in Gemini: Venus in Gemini women are curious and social butterflies. They enjoy playful and versatile scents that can transition from day to night. Look for fragrances with fruity and citrusy notes like grapefruit, bergamot, and mandarin. A recommendation would be "Daisy" by Marc Jacobs.

Venus in Cancer: Nurturing and romantic, Venus in Cancer women are drawn to soft and comforting scents. Look for fragrances with notes of jasmine, white flowers, and vanilla. A recommendation would be "La Vie Est Belle" by Lancôme.

Venus in Leo: Dramatic and confident, Venus in Leo women love to make a statement. They can try bold and luxurious scents with notes of amber, oud, and warm spices. A recommendation would be "Black Orchid" by Tom Ford.

Venus in Virgo: Practical and refined, Venus in Virgo women appreciate clean and fresh scents. Look for perfumes with notes of citrus, lavender, and green tea. A recommendation would be "Light Blue" by Dolce & Gabbana.

Venus in Libra: Known for their sense of balance and harmony, Venus in Libra women gravitate towards elegant and romantic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of rose, jasmine, and soft musk. A recommendation would be "Chloé" by Chloé.

Venus in Scorpio: Intense and mysterious, Venus in Scorpio women prefer rich and seductive scents. Look for fragrances with notes of dark fruits, patchouli, and leather. A recommendation would be "Black Opium" by Yves Saint Laurent.

Venus in Sagittarius: Adventurous and free-spirited, Venus in Sagittarius women enjoy energetic and exotic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of citrus, spices, and woody undertones. A recommendation would be "Gypsy Water" by Byredo.

Venus in Capricorn: Timeless and sophisticated, Venus in Capricorn women appreciate classic and refined scents. Look for fragrances with notes of bergamot, vetiver, and sandalwood. A recommendation would be "Coco Mademoiselle" by Chanel.

Venus in Aquarius: Unique and unconventional, Venus in Aquarius women are drawn to avant-garde and futuristic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of lavender, mint, and metallic accents. A recommendation would be "Alien" by Mugler.

Venus in Pisces: Dreamy and romantic, Venus in Pisces women prefer soft and ethereal scents. Look for fragrances with notes of water lily, white musk, and gentle florals. A recommendation would be "J'adore" by Dior.

Remember, personal scent preferences can vary, so it's always best to sample perfumes and choose the one that resonates with you the most.

I hope you have enjoyed this selection. Let me know what's your venus sign and favourite perfume.

Stay tune for more astro posts…

xoxo J.

[promises-of-paradise]

Felix Yusupov on Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich

During 1912 and 1913 I saw a great deal of the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, who had just joined the Horse Guards. The Tsar and Tsarina both loved him and looked upon him as a son; he lived at the Alexander Palace and went everywhere with the Tsar. He spent all his free time with me; I saw him almost every day and we took long walks and rides together. Dmitri was extremely attractive: tall, elegant, well-bred, with deep thoughtful eyes, he recalled the portraits of his ancestors. He was all impulses and contradictions; he was both romantic and mystical, and his mind was far from shallow. At the same time, he was very gay and always ready for the wildest escapades. His charm won the hearts of all, but the weakness of his character made him dangerously easy to influence. As I was a few years his senior, I had a certain prestige in his eyes. He was to a certain extent familiar with my "scandalous" life* and considered me interesting and a trifle mysterious. He trusted me and valued my opinion, and be not only confided his inner-most thoughts to me but used to tell me about everything that was happening around him. I thus heard about many grave and even sad events that took place in the Alexander Palace. The Tsar's preference for him aroused a good deal of jealousy and led to some intrigues. For a time, Dmitri's head was turned by success and he became terribly vain. As his senior, I had a good deal of influence over him and sometimes took advantage of this to express my opinion very bluntly. He bore me no grudge and continued to visit my little attic where we used to talk for hours in the friendliest way. Almost every night we took a car and drove to St. Petersburg to have a gay time at restaurants and night clubs and with the gypsies. We would invite artists and musicians to supper with us in a private room; the well-known ballerina Anna Pavlova was often our guest. These wonderful evenings slipped by like dreams and we never went home until dawn. [...] My relations with Dmitri underwent a temporary eclipse. The Tsar and Tsarina, who were aware of the scandalous rumors about my mode of living,* disapproved of our friendship, They ended by forbidding the Grand Duke to see me, and I myself became the object of the most unpleasant supervision. Inspectors of the secret police prowled around our house and followed me like a shadow when I went to St. Petersburg. But Dmitri soon got back his independence. He left the Alexander Palace, went to live in his own palace in St. Petersburg, and asked me to help him with the redecoration of his new home.

*as a young man, Felix Yusupov had many romantic relationships with men and would often attend parties while dressed as a woman. this is presumably what he is referring to here.

source: Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov, chapter 10

[anime-is-godlike]

Twisted wonderland dorms x esmeralda reader

One day the dorm leaders (jamil instead of kalim for this one) finds a magical stone with the power to show parts of the past of someone close to them they choose not to use it to respect there privacy of that person but shenanigans ensue and the stone is used and there shown there dear SO’s past

This is the Disney version of the hunchback of notre dame

Heartslabyul-savanaclaw-octavinelle-scarabia - pomefiore-ignihyde-diasomnia

pomefiore

Vil heels was clipping on the floor as he was walking through the halls of his dorm being the elegant man he was when he Heard the sound of his heel kicking something he didn’t think much of it and decided find rook he needed some advice

“Where is he?” Vil stroked his cheek he turned around and again he kicked something he finally looked down and saw a stone it looked like a very ordinary stone but something seemed to interest him like a hides beauty

He saw sure if he said that out loud he would hear his hunter friend spouting poetry and cheesy romantic line he thought back on the time rook tried his poetry with you and the look of confusion and disgust on your face nearly made him laugh

“This stone looks familiar roi du poison” a voice said next to rook in his ear he blinked only one person was so bold to do this to thee vil shoenheit

“Rook I have been calling for you” he turned to look at the hunter with a frown

“Oui I heard but I was to busy looking for monsieur cherry apple” vil nod his head and noticed a purple hair boy coming towards them along with a flee bag which vil turned his head at

“Epel why is grim here?” Vil asked but before epel could answer grim yelled out

“Myaaaaaa vil I smelt something here!!” Vil tilted his head at the cat

“What ever do you mean?” Vil asked to which grim got into even more of a huff

“It smells like the black rock I wanna eat it!!!” Grim yelled out flying around like a angry child

“Monsieur fuzzball please be calm like summers day” sadly vil was cut of by grim lunging at vil

“I can smell it in your hand!!” Grim said all vil could do was sigh he had half a mind to just give grim the stone so he’d leave him alone

“Wait grim stop!!” Epel said grabbing onto grim and rook grabs epel giving him a helping hand vil slightly opens his palm and is met with a blinding light and darkness

……………

Vil rubbed his eyes and got of the floor quickly the floor felt dirty and he had no clue how long he was on the floor a noise was next to him

“God dang dab it where in the hells are we?” Epel said with his ghastly accent well at least in vils eyes he tried to think back trying to wonder how they got into this situation

Around then where stone walls and candles lit the room with many stone pillars holding up the roof it was weird the candles didn’t flicker and the wind was stagnant almost like time was frozen then a flicker of light illuminated the dark place a small orb floats down

“Good evening” it said in a high pitched voice

“Hello” vil said with a cross of his arms

“Ahhh finally I polite one!” It said flying up and down almost like it was bouncing

“Could you please explain what is going on?” Epel asked in a somewhat shaky voice

“Ahhh I see …usually the headmaster tells them it they know immediately this is weird……” the last part was a whisper that the others couldn’t catch

“Hehehe anyway this is what you call a memory stone and it shows you memory’s of the person closest to your heart but you can’t refuse to see these memories before you deny” it said with a nod the others look at each other

“Nyaaaaa we gotta see memories that’s boring!!!” Grim yelled

“Ahhh still the same every time I see you fur ball?” Vil and rook and epel tilted there head the same have grim and the orb met before?

“Ahhhhhh anyway since vil activated it you’ll be seeing yuu’s memories” it said floating around proud vil thought on it the most he knew of your past was that you where a gypsy and that you have a goat named jolly who he despises as does jolly with him

“Okay now let’s get down to business usually I’d show 3 items which hold special memories of yuu but I’m kinda getting bored of repeating the same stuff so this time around” a crown like object floats down from the darkness in the ceiling

“Since you’ve been kind to me…unlike that lion…I’ll let you see her passion” it whispers again in the middle of the sentence

“Also since you’ve been extra nice I’ll let you hear her sing ahhhh what a wonderful singer she is” it said in a dreamy voice and vil has a think back when has he ever heard you sing during the song competition you didn’t audition you just helped out with managing the team

“Have fun~” it said the crown floats down and the scene before then starts there in the same building but now everything was moving the candles flickering but now something was added yuu was in front of them leaning against the piller

“Wow so this is dame corbeau home” rook said eyeing the place like a hawk

“Be quiet” epel whisper yelled

Your leaning against the piller and yuu sighs out with jolly by her feet it she looks over to a couple people on there knees preying

“I don’t know if you can hear me” she sang in a soft voice looking at a statue of a women holding a child

“Of if your even there” she walked closer to the statue hands in front looking up at it

“I don’t know if you would listen to a gypsy’s prey” she looked down

“Yes I know I’m just a outcast” she looks away

“I shouldn’t speak to you” she looks at the statue again

“Still I see you face and wander…where you once a outcast too” vil rook epel and grim where floored they’ve never heard such a beautiful voice before

“Wow but the word seem sad?” Epel said and vil nods he’ll ask once he’s back home about your past you turn around and start walking through the hall of lit candles

“God help the outcast” you sand taking each step

“Hungry from birth show then the mercy they don’t find on earth” your face was illuminated by the candles which made you even more enchanting in vils eyes

“God help my people we look to you still god help the outcasts… or nobody will” yuu is walking behind some pillers walking further into the church and the other people there are walking out the church suddenly there voices ring out

“I ask for wealth” some sang

“I ask for fame” another sang

“I ask for glory to shine on my name” there lines struck something in vil those lines reminded him of his wishes back when he was younger

“I ask for love I can possess” everyone was now singing in front of a stain glass window

“I ask for God and his angels to bless me” they raised there hands in the air vil and the others looked to yuu wondering what her wish was yuu leaned into a wall

“I ask for nothing” yuu said sliding down a bit vil’s eyes widen nothing?

“I can get by” she walked off

“But I know so many less lucky than I” yuu continued to walk around

“Please help my people the poor and downtrod” she walked to a stain glass window and very large round one

“I thought we all were the children of God” she froze looking still

“God help the outcast…children of God~” yuu leans down and hugs jolly she was bathed in the light of the sun and colours of the glass and the scene fades away and there now back vil eyes where wide her voice was so mesmerising and beautiful rook looked at him with a smile so did epel and grim was silent for once vil turned on his heel his hair flipped dramatically and he strode of towards you

He got to your dorm to see you humming away underneath the light of the sun with jolly at your feet you sensed a person there and looked up to be met with the eyes of your one and only partner vil

“Hey…you okay” he smiled at you and without another word scoops you into his arms and kisses your cheek then places his head in the crook of your neck your eyes were wide he’s never done anything like this before jolly looked at you two then with a huff walked out the dorm you giggled and wrap your arms around him

“So where’s the matter?”

—————

Hope you liked this part only 2 left to go

Not proofread

[jt1674]

[rastronomicals]

5:33 AM EDT November 2, 2022:

Al DiMeola - "Race With Devil On Spanish Highway" From the album Elegant Gypsy (April 1977)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: Fusion with a Les Paul

[luminewhosthat]

Bidrohi- Rebellion, written by Late Kazi Nazrul Islam, our national poet of Bangladesh.

The students of Bangladesh are dedicating this to the brave martyr "Shaheed Abu Sayed," killed from the gunshot of a police officer in Bangladesh at the mass quota reform student protest.

Bravo you cry,

Say hold your head high

Before my head, bows peaks of Himalayas

"Bravo" are your cries.

Your cries hails piercing skies and universes

Travels beyond moons and suns and galaxies

Piercing the earths and the heavens

Challenging the seat "throne" of the Almighty.

It raises in eternal wonder among World's destinies

On my forehead glows the angry God's emblem of victories.

"Bravo" are your cries.

I am who holds head high.

I am eternally wild, arrogant, and barbarian.

I am the dancer of the great cataclysm, I am cyclone, I am destruction.

I am the great fear, I am curse of the universe.

I am unsparing.

I destroy everything

I am chaotic, unchained.

I defy all rules, all laws and chains.

I do not follow any rule,

I sink a filled boat, I am torpedo, I am profane, I am wafting mine.

I am a God with untidy hairdo, or Goddess with untied hairs,

a sudden tempest of early summers.

I am rebel, I am rebel son of this world & universe

"Bravo" are your cries.

I am who holds head high.

I am rainstorm, I am hurricane,

I destroy everything that comes in my way.

I am dance crazy beat.

I dance at my will, I am life's free upbeat.

I am the night tune, I am dark dramatist, I am mystic strain

I am poignant agitation, caper and dance,

I surprise as I walk down the way

I prance as I sway

I am excited night melody.

I do whatever my heart desires

Wrestle with death, embrace enemies.

I am epidemic, I am fear of the land

I am tyrant ruler, for slaughter I am ever restless.

"Bravo" are your cries.

I am who holds head high.

I am indomitably naughty forever,

I am irrepressible, my cup of life is always and eternally full with liquor.

I am the pyres of sacrificial rites, I am devout meditator, I devour fire.

I am sacrificial fire, I am the priest father, I am the ultimate fire.

I am the creation, I am destruction, I am habituation, I am crematorium.

I am the conclusion, I am the darkest salvation.

I am son of queen of goddesses, moon in my hand & sun on my forehead.

On my one hand is tender flute of cane and on the other a war trumpet.

I am the one with blue throat, relieve pains of lover by drinking virulent.

I am the one with untidy knotted hairlocks, I hold unchained streams of Ganges.

"Bravo" are your cries.

I am the one who holds head high.

I am ascetic, the musician.

I am prince, my royal robe is pale saffron.

I am Bedouin, I am Chenghiz.

I worship none other but me.

I am thunder, I am the great universal sound of northeast.

I am the ornament of the burning Islamic angel, the mighty blast.

I am the musical instrument of the destroyer, the staff of the upholder of the truth.

I am the eternal circlet and the primary musical instrument-the great conch,

I am the primeval cry of the gong.

I am an eccentric ascetic and a disciple of a great saint.

I am the conflagration, shall burn the entire planet.

I am the ecstatic laughter of delight,- I am a terror-believer of iconoclasm.

I am the great gobbler of the twelve suns during the great cataclysm.

I am sometimes calm, sometimes wild, terribly disorderly.

I am the glowing blood of the youth, humble pride of the destiny.

I am violet gust of a storm, I am delightful wave of ocean

I am brilliance, I am radiant elegance.

I am sound of surging waters, sways of rolling waves!

I am unbridled hairs of a maiden whose big eyes flash with fires.

I am uncontrolled romance of a maid of sixteen, blessed as in paradise.

I am unquiet mind of a sad maid,

I am in breasts of a widow as her sobs and sighs.

I am the swindled pain of the gypsies, eternal homeless traveler.

I am the extreme pain of the humiliated, the burning sensation of poison,

the anguish of the dejected lover.

I am the vanity of the eternally distressed soul's grief, deeply entrenched pain.

Sudden-kiss-hidden-shivers, I am the trembling- quivering frail first touch of a woman.

I am the sudden glance of secret lover who by deception meets for moments.

I am the love of a lively girl, the jingles of her bangles.

I am the eternal child, youth forever

I am village maid afraid of adolescence, the scratch of veil on shoulder.

I am northern blizzard, fading fire, saddened eastern breeze.

I am the strains of a traveler poet, his cane flute's wheeze.

I am an eager thirst of summer, I am the scorching midday Sun.

I am cascading desert stream, I am soothing shadowy tone.

I rush in euphoric joys, its insane, I am insane

I suddenly discovered myself, unchained are my chains.

I am the rise, I am the fall, I am the alertness of unconscious mentality.

I am the sign on the gate of the world, the triumphant flag of humanity.

I rush forward clapping alike the storm traversing the heaven and this territory.

I ride the mighty energetic drunk flying horse of the Hindu & Islamic mythology.

I am a volcano on the bosom of the earth, the wild fire, the divine conflagration.

I am a burning rock in the hell-its wail-call-clamorous agitation.

I fly with speed of lightning, leaping in exultation.

I suddenly generate terror in seven worlds, initiate earthquake and undulation.

I clasp the head of mythological cobra of Hindus.

I clasp the blazing wings of the Christian consul.

I am the son of God, I am restless.

I am lewd, I tear with my teeth the bosom veil of mother earth.

I am the flute of the ancient Greek charmer

I calm the turbulent oceans.

I kiss sleep to entire world and draw them in slumber.

In strains of flute I endear

I am the cane flute of the Hindu universal lover.

When I become angry, I traverse beyond galaxies.

Defeating hell of Hindus and trampling the quivering infernos of Muslims.

I am the emissary of rebellions, bring message of revolt to earth from skies.

I am floods-torrential.

I sometimes enrich earth sometime wreck devastation.

I shall snatch from the God's bust the epitomes of wealth and erudition.

I am injustice, I am shooting star, I am evil luck.

I am blazing comet, poisonous deadly snake head.

I am the headless goddess, I am bring destruction and war .

I sit in inferno of hell and smile like an innocent flower.

I am soft as clay, I am conscious,

I am ageless, immortal, eternal, I am ceaseless.

I am terror of humans, demons & gods,

I am, in this world, eternally unconquerable.

I am God of gods, the eternal truth

I dance and trample the heaven, hell and earth.

I am insane, I am insane.

I discovered myself, unchained my chains.

I am the cruel axe of the fundamental man.

I shall bring peace by relieving this world of war thirsty clans.

I am the plough of the avatar of cultivation.

I uproot the sub-ordination from this world with ease in joys of new constitution.

I am the great rebel now weary of crusades

I shall rest only on that day,

When the wails of the oppressed will not echo in skies and airs.

When the battlefields do not echo the jingles of warring sabres.

The great rebel now weary of crusades

I shall rest only on that day!

I am rebellion saint who edges footprints on chest of the God who is sleepy.

I tear away the chest of the whimsical Almighty.

I am the eternal brave rebel.

I raise above all, my head forever high, all alone.

The translation may not be great, but it is an amazing poem which raged fire within the British Government settlers in India.

"Bidrohi" is a popular revolutionary Bengali poem and the most famous poem written by Kazi Nazrul Islam in December 1921. Originally published in several periodicals, the poem was first collected in October 1922 in a volume titled Agnibeena: the first anthology of Nazrul's poems.

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuff: Day 8

Fancy party + praising

For the anon who wanted more Luca smut 🖤🖤

Cw: smut, mirror sex, praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, mentions of a misscarriage, past infidelity and implied cuckolding 🤭

Luca feels his pride swell when he walks in with his wife.

She is everything a man could want and some more. Even better she is only his.

They can stare all they want, they can gossip all they want and it wouldn’t change the fact that Luca has the crème of crème.

The wedding is elegant and fine, his cousin looks lovely in her blue dress and the groom is of good enough standing with their family to provide a good party.

The Shelbys are invited as are the Black Country Boys and the Sabinis and other assorted families they are on good terms with…for now.

Luca will make them all kneel before him when the time comes, or perhaps he will let them have England while he goes where the real power lies: America.

The Irish no longer had the power from before nor did the Jews, the time for Sicily’s sons to show the new world how its done was coming.

And who better than Luca to pave the way to glory.

“Really at your cousin’s wedding and your scheming, Luca?” Eva asks as she drinks the bubbly champagne they have to hide back home.

Prohibition had made them rich, with the stupid ideology that a ban on drink would make the nation sober Christians.

Only made it easier for the wolves to wear the snow white wool during the light of day.

“As if you’re not bored out of your mind either, pussycat.” He answers as he gets a better idea to pass the time.

On their wedding party they snuck away to fuck, during the trip here Eva had fucked herself on his cock as they shared a deck chair and just last night, they’d fucked until the sun rose.

Eva wanted a baby and it was taking its sweet time being conceived. The sooner it cane the sooner they could pretend the one they lost never existed.

“You’d think I didn’t leave you satisfied this morning with how you’re thinking, Lucito.” The witch murmured as if she didn’t have new lingerie made with a slit that had her pussy on display.

Her dress was short, not short enough to be scandalous, but practical for what he has in mind.

“And worth every penny.” The witch almost purred as he nudged her towards the empty dressing room down the hall.

Luca was a man of class, he’d never stoop so low as to fuck her in the powder room when the bride’s dressing room had elegant couches and a mirror to fuck in front of.

“You’re by far the most beautiful woman in the room, tonight, Mrs. Changretta.” Its not long until they’re tossing his aunt’s church veil off the lily white couch and he’s showing his wife how beautiful she looks with her pussy spread open on the mirror across them.

His maga has never felt insecure about her looks or her place in his heart, but seeing all the women Luca dallied with in Birmingham gathered under one roof, Eva had been on edge.

Didn’t help Thomas Shelby seemed to be intrigued by her and every second he tried not to stare was a second Luca spent thinking of how to kill the gypsy.

The Sicilian takes his time as he prepares her for him. Having her suck his long fingers as he praised her to the heavens.

“No one can ever compare to you, maga. Its why Shelby stares at you, ‘cause he can’t have you. No one can.” The gangster feels her moan around his fingers and knows she’ll make a mess before he even fucks her.

“I’m yours, daddy. Only yours.” The witch cries once her mouth is free and his fingers enter her trimmed little pussy rather audibly.

No smart comments nor other words come out of her as he gives her a taste of what’s too come.

He’s slow and methodical about this, he wasn’t forgotten by all those women for a reason.

Polly couldn’t keep to her husband’s bed when Luca came to visit his father and half-brother, neither was sure if little Sally had been Gray’s or his.

“The only woman who’s gonna give children is you, you’re gonna look so good with our baby growing inside you.” The party is in full swing outside, but Luca doesn’t give a shit about who’s missing them when his witch looks puts the whores in the pictures to shame.

She writhes and clenched around his fingers as she came, only words she could say was his name.

“You want me to fuck a baby into you right now, do you want daddy to fill you up with his cum as he tells you all the things you already know?” the gangster doesn’t need to do much to prepare himself for the main course, just the sight of them in the mirror had him harder than the rusted piece of iron he wore in his pocket the day he married her.

The witch could only nod as she bit back a rather loud moan.

“Let them hear you, amore, let them hear how good daddy fucks you.” He groans as he thrusts into her at the perfect angle.

And sure enough Eva cries and babbles loudly as he rams into her as deep as he can. “Oh, god, Luca!”

Its not long before she’s cumming again underneath, the white sofa bearing the testament of the capo’s virility just as he ruins her pussy as some romantic ballads try to drown the sinful sounds they make at the newlyweds expense.

And with such a sight before him, Luca came just as hard as he came on their wedding night.

“How long do we have until they come looking for us?” his wife asks with eyes shut as she recovered from their lovemaking.

“Long enough to ruin the sofa some more.” He answered panting from the exertion.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Blurb 9

Draco was in the kitchen the next morning.

He looked over his shoulder when she entered and together, they froze. She hadn’t expected to see him so early. She had failed to find much sleep the night before and had risen from her bed with the sole purpose to make coffee before anyone else arrived.

The sun had not yet risen and birds still refused to sing their morning greeting.

“Good morning, Granger.” He was freshly showered. His stubble from the day before was gone and Hermione had to hold the inward groan that pressed into the back of her throat.

Staring at Draco Malfoy was something that was incredibly conflicting. He was beautiful, he was unlike anyone she had ever seen before in her life. He still looked elegant and lethal. Just as he had that day outside the courtroom. Only he was more...everything. Taller, somehow. Deadlier. More beautiful.

And he had no right to be so alluring.

His eyebrow rose as she continued to stare at him. “Coffee?” He asked and she caught the twitch of his lip, as if fighting a smile.

Schooling her features into a scowl, she cleared her throat.

“Yes, please.” She threw her head up high, tossing her tangled hair behind her shoulder and moved toward him.

He went back to the task before him. There were two cups of coffee sitting on the counter. One was black, the other a light brown. He picked it up and handed it to her. “Cream, one sugar.”

Hermione took the cup, trying hard to mask her surprise. She didn’t want to ask him how he knew the way she took her coffee. Instead, she accepted it with muted lips and avoided brushing her fingers against his own.

Her eyes were not so well behaved. Even as he lifted the mug of coffee and took a sip, his eyes held hers. Gazes brushing against one another the way her fingers had refused to.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, lowering his mug.

She started at their sudden proximity. He had stepped closer, as their eyes wrestled one another’s. She hadn’t noticed but now he was so close, she could see the way the blue in his eyes spread from his pupil. The texture and the color reminded her of microscopic look into that of a single snowflake.

“I didn’t.” She confessed.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He murmured. Those glacial eyes began to categorize her features, the state of her hair. They caressed her like he cared. She felt it, like a warmth spreading across her, comforting her.

Hermione hurriedly took a sip of coffee. Anything that might distract herself from the fact that she had not yet pulled away from him.

“Granger,” Draco’s voice had softened in a way she hadn’t heard before. It caused her skin to tighten, her breath to quicken. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She inhaled sharply, deeply. Her chest rose and stalled when his hand lifted, reaching out for her cheek.

The kitchen door opened and Hermione automatically took a step backwards.

Harry entered the kitchen, looking as tired as he had the night before. He rubbed at the hair atop his head as he yawned. He was dressed for work, though it looked as if he had grabbed the first shirt he had found off the floor and had thrown it on.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione went about her usual routine of fussing over her best friend. She began prepping a cup for him, eager to see the version of her best friend that wasn’t weighed down by the deaths of others. The friend who was sans the stress of fighting against dark and malicious wizards.

Harry smiled at her before he nodded at Malfoy.

“You’re here early.”

Draco shrugged and slid a hand into his pocket. “I figured we’d get to those Gypsy’s campsite as early as possible.”

Harry nodded and accepted the cup of coffee she handed to him. He took a drink and his green eyes flicked between her and Draco as they stared over the rim of his cup. When they finally settled on Draco, he lifted a questioning brow at his new partner.

Draco sighed and turned to face Hermione. “You’re face is infuriating.”

Harry choked on his coffee, and the kitchen filled with loud coughing.

“My face is what?” Flushed, obviously, with a renewed sort of rage.

Draco rolled his eyes, only cementing her rage and indignation, as if whatever he said dignified no such response from her.

“For fucks sake, Malfoy.” Harry murmured but Hermione was too angry to see the lopsided grin on her friends face threatening to break free.

No, all of her attention was on the insufferable man in front of her. The man who had done nothing but torment and confuse her for years!

The kitchen door swung open.

“Hey,” Ron entered, breathless, his eyes wide and full of alarm. They found her immediately.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked, turning his attention back to her, taking a step forward and wrapping his hands around her shoulders. He bent his knees to level her with a look.

Ron knew about the killer.

With a sigh, nodded. “Did you tell him?” She asked Harry, chancing a glance his way.

Harry paused in the middle of taking a sip and lowered his cup. “No.”

“Gin told me you had been assigned a bodyguard.” Ron murmured into her hair and sighed. “Then, I remembered the photos you were looking at yesterday morning.” He said to Harry.

He pulled her close and placed a kiss to the top of her head.

“How are you doing?” He asked as he pulled back to allow her space to drink her coffee.

“I’m alright, Ron.” She forced a smile.

Chancing a glance to Draco, she found his features cold, neutral. The mask of detachment was back.

“How did you know I’d be here?” She asked Ron, sliding her gaze back to where he was standing.

“Well, I tried your flat first.” He shrugged. He still had access to it, of course. She hadn’t thought about him using it after their breakup, however.

“Oh.”

“When I found it empty, I figured Harry wanted you close by.”

She didn’t bother telling him that Harry wasn’t the only one who insisted upon it.

“Perfect timing, mate.” Harry cleared his throat. “We were just about to leave. Do you have time to keep ‘Mione company until Theo gets here?”

“What?” Draco’s cold eyes fell on Harry. “I’m not leaving her with him.” His chin lifted toward Ron.

Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but not only was I an Auror but Hermione is anything but defenseless.”

A flare of pride ran up her back, causing her posture to straighten. Ron was right. Together, they had fought a war. Thanks to her quick thinking, she had managed to fight against dark wizards who had years of experience on her.

“That means nothing to me.” Draco sneered.

“Well, it should!” Hermione spat back. “I’m not a defenseless idiot, Malfoy.”

His eyes slowly dragged from where Ron stood to settle them onto her. “That is not the point.”

“What is then?” She set her coffee onto the kitchen island. “Because despite my infuriating face, I thought keeping me safe was the entire point. Ron and I are capable of fighting off an attacker. We fought together for years against men just as vile as this killer. Or did you just conveniently forget about all of that?”

Draco was glaring at her, now, with a clenched jaw. His cup settled onto the counter with a bit of wandless, non-verbal magic that she might have found impressive had it not been the fire of rage burning through her.

“Trust me, Granger, I’ve forgotten nothing.” He turned to leave the kitchen but stopped just before the door, looking over his shoulder. “And your face might be the least infuriating thing about you.”

Harry sighed, loud and exasperated as Hermione growled.

Draco left the kitchen.

With an annoyed and apologetic smile, Harry left to follow.

“Yeah,” Ron shook his head. “Things between you two are no less confusing.”

Hermione whipped her head to glare at him. “There is nothing between Draco and I.”

He held his hands up and chuckled. “Hey, a man can only hope.”

[dandruffaromatics]

Old petty bourgeoisie,

as puny as you are,

I can't tell if you cause me grief,

pity, disgust, or melancholy... 

You're glad if a thief dies,

if a whore gets arrested,

if the parish of the Sacred Heart

purchases a new bell.

You're satisfied with the misfortunes of others,

you hold on tight to your money,

anguished by the great torment

that the wind may one day take it back.

And on Sunday, with an elegant dress,

with the family heads leading the way,

you gather in your churches,

in every city, in every town.

You listen up to the sermon,

giving up on the tavern.

So gray and so dignified,

you take your own chains out for a walk.

Old petty bourgeoisie,

as puny as you are,

I can't tell if you cause me grief,

pity, disgust, or melancholy...

You rejoice when the unusuals

are treated like criminals:

you'd lock up in an asylum

all gypsies and all intellectuals.

You love order and discipline;

you worship your dear police,

except when they're investigating

over a bankruptcy case.

You can steal with discretion,

pettiness and moderation,

tweaking balances and accounts,

receipts and invoices.

You can lie with courtesy,

cynicism and cowardice;

you've found in hypocrisy

your own form of poetry.

Old petty bourgeoisie,

as puny as you are,

I can't tell if you cause me grief,

pity, disgust, or melancholy...

You can't stand those who have sex

more than once per week,

or who do it for longer than two hours,

or those who do it in strange ways.

You can have many disgraces:

for instance an artist daughter,

or a son who's not into commerce,

or, worse still, one who's a Communist.

Always willing to gossip,

in the name of civil respect;

always staring up fixed

at the ceiling, your only horizon.

Always ready to crush the hands

of anyone struggling out of a pit,

always ready to lick the bones

of the richer and their dogs.

Old petty bourgeoisie,

old folks of my own kind,

so puny as you are,

the wind will blow you away some day.

[artandthebible]

The Sermon on the Mount

Artist: Jan Brueghel the Elder (Flemish, 1568–1625)

Genre: Religious Art

Date: 1598

Medium: Oil on Copper

Collection: Getty Center, Los Angeles, California

The Sermon on the Mount is a collection of sayings spoken by Jesus of Nazareth found in the Gospel of Matthew that emphasizes his moral teachings. It is the first of five discourses in the Gospel and has been one of the most widely quoted sections of the Gospels

In this small painting, the figure of Christ is almost lost amid the dense, multi-colored crowd. Identified by a pale yellow halo, Christ stands on a rustic podium near the crowd's center. He presents his sermon on the conditions of blessedness. Behind Christ, his disciples pay rapt attention, but many in the diverse throng prefer to socialize with one another. In the foreground, a gnarled gypsy tells fortunes and a vendor sells pretzels. To the right, below a distant vista, a man in a long coat and dark hat directs two women in elegant gowns toward the crowd.

Jan Brueghel the Elder painted this festive scene on a thin sheet of copper. The work's bright colors, fine details, and enamel-like finish are accentuated by the hard copper support. Brueghel's unmatched ability to describe figures and landscape in great detail transforms the painting into a jewel-like object intended for close scrutiny.