#best fountain fireworks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tbaluver · 2 months

Note

hiii, can i please req some silent treatment scenario with rafayel?? fem!reader is the one doing the silent treatment to him. just really frustrated rn that he didnt came home in the latest banner :/

thank you.

Silent Treatment- Rafayel x Reader- Love And DeepSpace

a/n: im so sorry to hear that anonnie ( ｡ • ᴖ • ｡) he also did not come home either but you still have so much time !! i hope you'll be able to get him soon <3 i hope this scenario was okay and i hope you'll enjoy!!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy! <3

genre: small angst ? fluff fluff, might be ooc

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A minor argument lead to a small understanding resulting you into giving Rafayel the silent treatment. He wouldn't take it seriously at first, cracking joke after joke or do anything to see if he can get a reaction out of you. He wouldn't shut his mouth till it'll get you to speak. It isn't until you don't react, ignoring his best attempts at getting your attention that grew his concern. You'll notice when he leaves your home finally understanding that you needed space.

The next morning, you awoke to find the bed empty and your phone displaying a single notification, a stark contrast to the usual amount of messages from your boyfriend. His absence felt unusual, given how clingy and needy he often is. It wasn't good to sleep at night knowing you both didn't fix things. A pang of guilt tugged at your heart, making you wonder if you had gone too far and hurt his feelings more than you intended.

You checked your phone to see that Thomas texted you that Rafayel had an emergency at his home studio and needed you immediately. Although you were both in an intimate relationship, you were still hired as his bodyguard.

Rushing to Rafayel's home studio, you called out his name, but the silence that greeted you only heightened your concern. As you made your way down the familiar corridors, you noticed the lighting had shifted to a warm, inviting glow. Continuing towards his usual workspace, you were met with the unexpected sight of his paintings displayed all around.

As you approached one of the paintings, you recognized each piece was a depiction of moments you had shared together—scenes from your dates and times spent together. As you continued through the room, you saw more paintings that evoked vivid memories, each one capturing a cherished moments from your past.

One painting depicted a particularly memory, the ceremonial vow in the hospital garden where you vowed never to make him wait. The artwork, painted from a third-person perspective, showed the two of you sitting by the fountain. In the painting, a blue fish was was floating at the palm of his hand, capturing the serene and intimate moment you shared.

Another painting, painted in third perspective, where you were both at the beach watching the fireworks.

And another painting at the arcade where he tried to surprise you with the plushie but you had already gotten it. In the painting, you're shown holding the artist chick plushie with your phone in the other hand. You recalled the conversation you had from that day; "What do you want?"

"The rest of my life with you."

As you continued to explore the room filled with paintings of your shared memories, you noticed one that seemed out of place. It depicted a mermaid—no, a Lemurian, you guessed—emerging from the ocean and gazing up at the moon.

Rafayel quietly approached behind you and spoke softly, "I'm sorry for lying but I really wanted you to come over. I'm really sorry for upsetting you. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You turned to him, curious, and asked, "What's this painting about?" Your question made his ears perk up. He hasn't heard you for almost a whole day. You pointed to the Lemurian floating in the sea, looking up at the moon.

"It's about a Lemurian who looks to the moon for guidance," Rafayel explained, "Without the moonlight, it would be lost in the darkest depths of the sea.. I don't know what I'd do without you." His eyes were filled with a desperate sadness as he spoke the last line softy. He took one of your hands in his, gently rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. As he did, his fair fell forward, gently framing his face as he gaze down at your intertwined hands.

Ignoring him had become nearly impossible. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his warmth envelop you. As you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, you could sense the tender connection between you.

He responded by pulling you closer, his arms encircling your waist with a comforting embrace. His touch was soft yet reassuring as he placed a delicate kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. He then closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss signifying his longing for you, each touch conveying everything words could not.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel lads #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace mc #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace imagines #rafayel headcanons #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace headcanons

419 notes · View notes

wroteclassicaly · 3 months

Note

can you do fireworks with...well I was going to way Gator but Steve also works if Gator is off the board.

Warnings: Language, friends to lovers, mentions of injury, Gator speaks a little rough towards reader, fluff, mentions masturbation, use of fireworks, alcohol, Gator being a dumb turtle boy, smut, and NSFW.

A/N: I had waaaaay too much fun with this one, so it’s obviously more than two paragraphs!

~*~

His headlights gave a too bright spotlight, causing him to trip over his own big ass feet, his zippo flying somewhere on the grass nearby. You snort at his antics, already flicking your bic to life and setting your sparkler ablaze. There’s an amber bottle of whiskey nearly gone, along with food wrappers and a blanket close by — courtesy of you, having stolen it off the end of Gator’s bed. You wave your stick around, dizzy off Jack Daniel’s and the buzz that being near your best-friend brings. Sharing one brain cell, the only person that can be around Gator Tillman full time (not without occasional headaches) — the town cannot separate you two. He drops to the ground, clearly irritated you got yours lit first.

“Hey,” you can’t help but to break in as he’s huffing between puffs on his vape, rifling through the grass with the other hand. He doesn’t look at you, but you continue. “Remember that time that you lit that fire rocket and accidentally sat on it? I swear I thought you broke your ass, man.”

Gator huffs in annoyance, clearly remembering what occurred just last year. You keep going. “I don’t know how you own a flame thrower and haven’t caught your junk or yourself on fire yet.”

“I am my junk, bitch!” He snaps, exasperated as you glares holes at you through the darkness.

The effects of heat coasting across the night breeze, crickets in the distance, and how the trees catch the rustling winds — it’s actually a nice ending to your day. You put your hands up, a snort leaving your mouth, especially right as you spot his lighter, reflected off his headlights. You motion to it with your sparkler, and he immediately grabs it, rolling his eyes. He paces a slight distance, he’s kneeling, his khaki camp tight across his legs, black shirt stretched over his biceps, tattoo on display. Your mouth waters, every imaginable scenario coming into play.

It’s not unusual to think about him this way. Hell, whenever you with someone else, it’s not their face that you see. Your best-friend has been at the end of every single orgasm you’ve had since meeting the shithead. You’re broken from your Gator-lusting reverie when his hand cracks the zippo to life, igniting the fireworks, crackling noises exploding and a fountain of colors explode into the air. Gator struts in front of them towards you in that way, hair strands blown into a disarray, hues of bright blues, golds, reds, pinks, and deep crimson lighting up the night sky behind him.

It’s a sight straight from a movie, and you don’t realize your sparkler has gone out. But it doesn’t matter, not as Gator clings to your energy and finds you chest to chest, tossing the stick from your hand. Your back is colliding with his truck in a vertigo-washed movement. He cradles your face, his breath soaked in jack, chew, and vape juice. It’s a big deal, but it’s also just two people meeting in ways that were always going to happen.

His nose bridge drags along your own as he pants the words across your mouth. “I’ve got rubbers in my glove box, babydoll. You gonna let me fuck you tonight? Teasing my cock so much, n’ you know it, too.”

“On the blanket…” you’re pawing at his shirt collar and he just shakes his head.

“Turn around and put your hands on my hood. You want me, you’re gonna take it the way that I give it to you.”

You’re immediately obeying, sky above faded out with streams of vibrant colors, smoke cloud wafting in this direction. He’s back after retrieving the items. It doesn’t take long…

~*~

He’d watched you touch yourself from behind, your jeans and thong on the ground below, as he slowly jerked himself off, enough until he’d achingly slid into the condom and spun you around. As much as he craved you in this position, he needed to see your face this first time, more than anything. He laid you upon the blanket, lifting your legs around his hips, and slid into you in one deep thrust, one you’d be feeling for days. You held tightly, groaning, whimpering pathetically into one another’s mouths. Your hands held a new, possessive purchase by digging into the plush of his bare ass, pushing him deeper.

He didn’t go home that night, and he didn’t take you home. But he did attempt to light another firework and you had driven him to the hospital to get his hand wrapped. Dumbass.

48 notes · View notes

justaslytheringal · 2 months

Text

How to spot a... Hogwarts edition

How to spot a Slytherin

Common habitats: gothic cathedrals, 24-hour coffee shops, antique stores, art galleries, forbidden forests, the quietest spot in libraries, cemeteries, wandering around the city at night

Common behaviours: sarcastic, stubborn, bottles up a lot of their emotions, drinks coffee in the evening, swears a lot, has a small but close social circle, likes to dress up, has expensive taste, may suffer from resting b**** face, did I say sarcastic?

Other attributes: trench coats, leather journals, marble statues, fancy teacups, family heirlooms, black silk, French perfume, sly smirks, black and white photography, champagne

How to spot a Ravenclaw

Common habitats: overstocked libraries, fancy stationary shops, mysterious castles, vintage stores, under the stars, local museums, forests, quirky cafes

Common behaviours: writes pretty notes, has the best conversations at 2am, prefers nights in, gets frustrated if they don't get something first try, caffeine addicts, prefers cold weather, listens to classical music, has a million half-finished creative projects, likes to stargaze

Other attributes: leather bound notebooks, hot coffee, old books, the arts, fountain pens, tortoiseshell glasses, constellations, ink stains, vintage blazers, stolen glances, raindrops on windows

How to spot a Hufflepuff

Common habitats: independent book shops, cosy cafes, meadows, thrift stores, petting zoos, drive-in cinemas, local bakeries, snuggled up under their blanket

Common behaviours: always has a warm drink in hand, bakes when stressed, holds the door for strangers, tends to stick to their comfort shows/movies instead of watching something new, loves plants, dances in the kitchen

Other attributes: handwritten letters, fuzzy socks, quirky mugs, old sweaters, pressed flowers, bubble baths, vintage jewellery, sunlight cracking through curtains

How to spot a Gryffindor

Common habitats: outdoor concerts, record stores, old playgrounds, by the fireplace, retro diners, campsites, petting zoos, light festivals, treehouses, secret gardens

Common behaviours: gets along with everybody, takes the risk - no matter the odds, has an unbridled passion for oddly specific things, stands up for what's right, loves to make people laugh, nice but can come across as flirty

Other attributes: gold jewellery, fireworks, hot chocolate, quidditch matches, friendship bracelets, endless laughter, crunchy leaves on an autumn morning

48 notes · View notes

jellys-toy-collection · 9 months

Text

henry and rainbowkitty's new years! for their first meal of the year I made them best food tofu yakisoba. they had mochi from a local bakery too. then they got to watch some fountain fireworks together!

we hope everyone has a happy year!! c:

#agere #plushies #plushblr #new years #nostalgiacore #kidcore #food tw #vegan #pls ignore my chopsticks omg #i do have table manners i swear

90 notes · View notes

the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year

Text

Fourth of July With Tokio Hotel

Germany doesn't celebrate Fourth of July, obviously, but if you're from the states and do, you may have celebrated it before

Even if you weren't you guys were in America and heard of it

It was during the tour, they were in America and you're their bandmate or friend

So obviously they heard of it and you dragged them into celebrating it with you

Mainly for food and fireworks tho

Hands down Georg and Tom bought the big fireworks while you, Bill and Gustav were shopping for the smaller fountain ones or the sparklers

Tom and Georg wanted to go big so they got huge cases and everything

While you and Bill were shopping for candles, colorful sparklers and Gustav was going ham with dumping every fountain he could ever want

Bill found somewhere you light them and then they shoot out a little military guy with a parachute and you gotta catch them

Obviously you guys bought them all

Gustav found some where they spin and turn into a little house, and he also bought like 20

Georg was carrying like 3 giant cases of fireworks, sparklers and cannons all in one and Tom was riding an entire cart with 5 of the same cases

Safe to say, you guys left very happy

On the actual day of Fourth of July, Bill was the one cooking practically anything

Except if it was grilling, he left that as Gustavs job to grill the meat and hotdogs on the grill

Tom was the one to try and light a firework but was back up too soon to actually light it

Georg lit one and didn't warn you guys and laughed as you all jumped as sudden giant ass cannon went on and exploded

It was pretty don't worry but Tom jumped on you because Georg didn't warn any of y'all

Gustav was chasing you and Bill with multiple lit sparklers and cackling as you guys fucked and ran to get away from being set on fire

Gustav had the amazing idea to see who could light as many as possible without dying

Georg and Tom took him up on his offer and you and Bill, the ones who actually wanted to live, watched from the bed of a truck

A bush lit on fire and you and Bill laughed your asses off as you watched Georg and Tom struggle to put it out

It was Gustavs firelight that lit the bush on fire but he shrugged and walked away, and lit ANOTHER ONE

Tom and you were getting so competitive at catching those military guys that you had to catch

You guys were lighting one after another and running to catch it

You guys were pushing each other out of the way but were no match as Bill almost tackled you guys for one

Candles couldn't be held by any of you guys as Gustav was threatening to shoot on at Bills ass

He even tried to, almost succeeding in lighting it before you took it away

You still have no idea if he was actually bluffing but-

Georg was just there vibing, lighting giant cakes as well and standing back with beer like a proud uncle as he watched all the lights go out

You guys got into a little war with the neighbors on who had the best fireworks

It wasn't really a war but Bill saw they had a bigger and more colorful one than you guys and took that personally

You guys somehow acquired many neighborhood children in running around with sparklers and hotdogs

A lot of kids knew how famous you guys were but just liked y'all as people and wanted to hang out with you guys for the Holiday

But that didn't make them immune to you guys tackling each other for an army guy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @dead-tapes @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @elenacgn08 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @juliarc28 @bunnysenpai31

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #gustav schäfer x reader #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer #georg #georg listing x reader #georg listing

275 notes · View notes

writing-for-life · 4 months

Text

@morpheusbaby3 thinks we need a bit more comedy fics around here, and I agree.

I’m trying that precarious balance with Dream’s Therapist, but I also often insert a bit of humour into my fics (tragedy often needs a bit of comedy around the edges, and comedy works best when it’s weirdly tragic. I’ll die on that hill 🤣).

So I’ll just post a little snippet from my WiP. I don’t even know if it’ll make the Final Cut (it’s quite bad actually 🙈), but it was fun to write and sorely needed at the time.

Merv and Matthew are bitching. What else…

Mervyn busied himself, broom in hand, with sweeping up the leaves of the oak that sat in the centre of the courtyard. The bristles frequently caught on the cobblestone underfoot, made of meticulously placed stones, and he began to mumble to himself. “No idea why I’m sweeping up again, the stones take care of themselves, why don’t the bloody leaves? Should take ‘em away himself, wave his hand or somethin’… but what do I know…”

Matthew sat perched on a bench and cawed, “The roses are particularly vibrant this afternoon, eh, Merv?”

Mervyn leaned on the end of the broomstick. “Not here to talk about vibrant roses, are ya?”

Matthew was just about to say something when a bee flew past his beak, and with one snap, he ate it.

“Scoffin’ down a dream like it’s nothin’. Don’t let the boss see that.”

“Sorry,” he burped and quickly flitted over to the fountain to take a sip of water.

“Ain’t got all day, whaddya want, bird?”

Matthew hopped closer again and puffed up his feathers, seemingly weighing up his words. “Did you notice anything? I mean, about him?”

“Like what?” Mervyn grunted.

“Well, he’s not completely oblivious to his surroundings, but he seems a bit… lost in his own world?”

Merv took a cigar out of the breast pocket of his dungarees and lit it.

“Well, you don’t let the boss see that,” Matthew commented.

“As if he cared. Not at the moment anyway.”

“So you did notice?”

“The lovey-dovey thing? Yeah, caught ‘em giggling away like kids a few days ago. Well, she was anyway…”

Matthew cawed in very apparent discomfort. “That’s not what I mean. Well, maybe, but they’re sorta… married, or whatever you guys call this shizzle, so I don’t care. But I can’t be the only one noticing the stolen glances, the knowing smiles, the constant touches even when they work, and those… sudden disappearances? And it’s not like they’re exactly trying to hide it. Well, don’t know, they seem to make an effort to be discreet but… I mean, we’re not stupid?”

Mervyn’s eye-holes narrowed. “Hate to break it to you, bird, but we all know what those fireworks mean, right?”

“What fireworks?” Matthew shrieked, then croaked. “The aurora?! Across the night sky?!”

“Yep. Should be grateful that’s as far as displays of his hard to control feelings go these days. Could be worse. Has been worse. Could tell ya stories you’d not wanna hear.”

“What the fuck, man…”

“Precisely.”

“Merv, come on, that’s rude.”

“Not me using swear words, bird.” He blew smoke circles into the air. “Whatever makes him easier to be around is fine by me.”

“Yeah yeah, he might even get you a leaf-blower one day…” Matthew muttered.

“A what?”

“Never mind…”

…

Sorry, it’s awful, but it had to be written at the time. I’ll go hide under a bush somewhere 🤣

#the sandman fanfiction #sandman fanfiction #the sandman #sandman #matthew the raven #merv pumpkinhead #mervyn pumpkinhead #sandman fanfic #sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #wip wednesday #a bit of comedy #and a bitching session #the pillars of creation #the light of stars

21 notes · View notes

nijigasakilove · 2 months

Text

Time for AOTS! 3 eps in is almost record time for a beach episode, lol but I’ll take it! The lit club “canned” training camp is the perfect excuse for everyone to have some fun in the sun and I ain’t see a single pen being put to paper lmao.

Komari is so cute and I enjoyed the focus she got in this episode. Knew she was gonna be a good character when she and Nukumizu started the episode with a water fountain water quality debate. Everyone had certain water fountains they thought were the best in high school lmao.

Wish Komari wasn’t so hard on herself though, her social anxiety and awkwardness is exactly what makes her so cute. And there’s definitely a lot of cute girls that join literature clubs so idk what she was on about there 😂

Idk how Anna managed to finesse her way to the lit club beach trip but I’ll take it, she looked really cute! All the girls did tbf. Nice de-stresser after all the rejections everyone’s been getting.. fireworks, barbecue, couldn’t ask for more

Yakishio is so damn cute! Her wanting pick me ups from Nukumizu was adorable and after losing with her long term crush I agree she needs a little spoiled

Anna spoon feeding Nukumizu is so cute, you gotta waive an extra 200 yen off for that alone lol

Wouldn’t be a Makeine episode without a confession and rejection though. Poor Komari probably gonna get her first heartbreak next episode from Tamaki.. can’t wait for next ep

#makeine #animangahive #animanga #animanga hive #anime #no more losing heroines #too many losing heroines!#makeine: too many losing heroines #summer anime 2024 #anime summer 2024

6 notes · View notes

sweet-child · 1 year

Text

Fireworks

a device containing gunpowder and other combustible chemicals that causes a spectacular explosion when ignited, used typically for display or in celebrations

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

In which we see what it is like at the L/n house during the Fourth of July

Pairing - N/A

Word Count: 834

A/n - Happy Fourth of July!

"Bon Appétit" · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Hey Dallas, can you light this for me?”

It was the fourth of July, Y/n’s favorite holiday. Watching fireworks, lighting sparklers, lighting the black-cats in the street and watching them explode, making loud popping sounds and putting black marks in the road. For them, it wasn’t just about the day the United States passed the Declaration of Independence. It was about the memories made by lighting off fireworks with family and friends. Fireworks put a smile on their face, and they were more enthusiastic about the fourth than any other holiday. For them, it was something that they were passionate about, like how some people are with Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Dallas nodded, and took out his lighter. He lit the punk, to which the friend quickly thanked him for before going over to Ponyboy. The blonde, fourteen year old put a black-cat in the mud, to which Y/n quickly lit and stepped back from. When it exploded, Ponyboy jumped since he wasn't expecting it to go off in the mud, he thought it wouldn’t explode. They laughed, and grabbed the whole pack of black-cats and put them in the street. He steps back as his h/c-haired friend lit them. Getting a few feet away, they watched as the firecrackers exploded with a smile on both of their faces and a gleam in their eyes. Maybe it was the explosions, but for some unfathomable reason they loved the holiday. Quickly, Y/n picked up the trash since there were cars coming around the corner. They waved to the car as the car pulled into the grass to the side of the house.

Dallas and Steve were standing as they watched from the concrete porch of the L/n house while Johnny sat on the concrete porch. “They really like fireworks, huh?” Steve asked, taking a drag from a cigarette. “Y/n does, that's for sure,” Dallas replied, watching as the two friends started to light a parachute. Johnny nodded in agreement as he got up from sitting on the porch steps. Even though Y/n was about to turn 16, she acted like a child. Always smiling, laughing along to everything, and overly excited about things. The three boys watched as kids ran up and jumped into your arms. You laughed and swung them around before the kids, you, Johnny, and Ponyboy started to light off cherry blossoms. Two-bit then came running down the street, a white bag in his hand. “I brought some more stuff!”

After a few hours passed, Darrel and D/n had started to try and figure out what they should light first. Of course, Y/n overheard them talking about it so you made your way over to the two. “I got it figured out,” they grinned before explaining, “Fountains, since it's still a bit light out, then artillery shells and cakes. The cakes are the order I want them in. You go from top to bottom, then move over and repeat.” D/n nodded “Thanks kiddo, you’re good at this.” “Learned from the best!” Darry watched as his younger friend walked away, a small smile on his face.

As the kids ran around the yard with sparklers, Y/n watched with a smile on their face. They were at peace. With fountains, and the booms of fireworks going off at other people's houses in the distance. The smell of firework smoke in the air was of comfort, and even though Y/n might get burns due to the punks, they still loved it. Suddenly, they were pushed to the ground by a big, black, and loveable dog. Two more followed behind, also wanting attention. Laughing, Y/n petted their family’s dogs while Sodapop hurriedly walked over to help them up. He extended a hand with a smile, “Here, let me help.” Of course, they weren’t about to deny Soda’s help. They grabbed his hand and he pulled them up. “Thanks, Sodie.” “Yeah no problem,” He paused for a moment “Thanks for inviting me..and the gang, by the way.” Their eyes lit up, more than they have been in the past few hours “Yeah not a big deal! I'm glad you, and the gang, came!” They exclaimed, embracing the boy into a quick hug. “Means alot to me,” Y/n smiled.

Y/n, the gang, and the 3 dogs were all on a large blanket. It seemed like all of them were staring up at the sky as fireworks of all different colors exploded. All of them watched as the fireworks were launched into the air before exploding, and falling to the ground. Greens, reds, blues, whites, purples, pinks, all sorts of different colors were lighting up the sky and the world around the group. Taking their eyes off the fireworks, Y/n looked to each side of herself with a smile. “Guys?”

The boys turned their attention to their friend, all eager to listen to what their friend had to say.

“Happy Fourth of July.”

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #x readers #x reader #steve randle #ponyboy curtis #two bit mathews #dallas winston #johnny cade #darrel curtis #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #fourth of july special #fourth of july

45 notes · View notes

birdofdawning · 1 year

Text

The Bookseller’s Eldest Daughter and the Witch’s Girl

Chapter One

There was once a bustling city, filled with merchants and shopkeepers and artisans and traders from distant lands, all working hard and shouting about their wares in the streets and making bargains in the coffee houses. The roads were well-paved and busy, and when you walked down them you might go past a row of colourful shops with a group of shop keepers all standing outside arguing together over some neighbourhood dispute, such as the mushroom farm Mrs Grimple insisted on kept in her cellar, or the annoying proliferation of goats about the city these days; or perhaps they would be gossiping about the Lady Dulcimell’s three quarrelling husbands, or the King’s son’s illness and how many ‘cures’ had been nothing of the sort. You might walk through a noisy market place filled with fine cloth or glassware or exotic birds, and leave with a parcel of fireworks or orchid bulbs that you had been persuaded to buy. And then finally you would come to a small quiet square with a fountain or a shady tree in its centre and you could take a few minutes to rest from the stir and clamour.

Now down a tiny side street in the Antique Quarter of this vigorous, colourful city was a bookshop. It was cluttered and comfortable and smelt of old paper. The Bookseller himself was a tall, gangly man with long fingers who liked to complain about everything no matter how trivial, and I am afraid that his shop might not have done quite so well if it weren’t for his daughters. For the Bookseller had two daughters, both very beautiful: the eldest was solemn and studious, but the youngest was smiling and sociable and beloved by everyone in their neighbourhood.

As well as being rather bad-tempered I am afraid that the bookseller was a parsimonious man, and one day, as he sat with the printer saying 'yes' and 'no' to the new stock on offer he caught sight of the prices being scrawled down on his friend's ledger.

"Why," he said, doing some quick calculations, "what all this? That's an extra thuppenny per book!"

The Printer shrugged. "Paper is a little more expensive at the moment," he said. "Just pass the extra on to your customers. No-one will notice."

But the Bookseller was sure that his customers would notice, and they would go elsewhere, to Ettlemen's Books in the Clockmaker's Quarter, perhaps; and soon word would get around that his business was failing and then the creditors would begin hounding him. He must cut costs to make up the extra thruppenny charge... but from where?

And as he sat at supper that evening he noticed his daughters moving about with the pots and the plates, and it occurred to him how much they cost him. “Three meals every day, and new dresses, and what-not! Why, with such extravagance I will be ruined! The shop will fail and we’ll be living in the streets with the creditors after us!”

He said so aloud, and you will not be surprised to hear that his daughters objected.

“Father, we make our own clothes, and I keep the house and cook all those meals,” said the youngest daughter, “and I make sure I always get the best price in the market when I go shopping.”

“And I run the shop with you, and do the accounts, and worry the printers for new books and hunt throughout the city for old ones,” said the eldest daughter.

But it was no good. “No,” said their father as he wrung his hands, “you will each have to leave and get married. Then the shop may manage to survive.”

The eldest daughter, who did the accounts, scoffed at this because she knew that the shop was in no danger at all. But the youngest daughter said “Well, the clerk’s apprentice wants to marry me and I like him very much. But who can my sister make a match with?”

The eldest daughter frowned and said Nobody! She would stay and help with the shop, of course. But “No, no, that’s no good,” said the Bookseller, “You will have to marry the Inkmaker. He says he needs a wife to keep house for him, and that either one of you will do; he’s not picky.”

“But he must be sixty years old!” said the eldest daughter, aghast.

“And he’s always talking about how much he hates women!” said the youngest daughter.

But the Bookseller said that his mind was quite made up: if his eldest daughter had no other offers she would marry the Inkmaker and that’s all there was to it. And no matter how the two sisters argued, it seemed there was little they could do to convince him otherwise. And so things stood.

Now one day the bookseller was in the back room opening parcels of new books from the printer and the eldest daughter was away bargaining for old books at an estate sale, leaving the youngest daughter to mind the shop. And as she was dusting the shelves (I am afraid that she was the only member of the household who noticed when the shelves needed dusting) the door chimed and an odd-looking man walked in.

Though she didn’t work in the shop as often as the other two, the youngest daughter knew most of their regular customers, and she had never seen this man before. He was very tall and thin with grey hair, and wore well-fitting but sombre clothes. But his eyes sparkled with life, and also — though I won’t pretend the Bookseller’s youngest daughter guessed at this! — with wicked mischief.

“I had heard that you were beautiful, and I see I was not misinformed,” he said, and though the Bookseller’s youngest daughter felt rather uncomfortable at this remark she smiled, and thanked him, and asked how she could help.

The man looked around and then said “Well, I was looking for Bartleby’s A Modern Contemplation of Clouds and Their True Meanings? Do you have that?”

“Um,” said the Bookseller’s youngest daughter looking around the cluttered shop, “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you immediately. I’ll fetch my father, for he will know.”

“No, no, don’t worry him yet,” said the tall man quickly, “what about Grindlestone’s Catalogue of Hell and Fairy, Including Details of Many of Their Denizens and their Interests in Our World?”

“Oh!” exclaimed the Bookseller’s youngest daughter, “I hope we don’t have that book! It sounds rather sinister!”

“Well, well, perhaps it does, perhaps it does,” said the tall man. “And now tell me, child, do you buy used books? For I have one here that that is positively unique!”

“Y–es,” said the Bookseller’s youngest daughter carefully, “we do buy used books. Though it would be better for you to speak with my father about that.”

“Perhaps you could have a look first,” suggested the tall man, “and see if it’s worth his trouble?”

And out of a satchel he pulled a great tome bound in yellow silk, with leather hinges and brass clasps. He turned it around to face the Bookseller’s youngest daughter and unfastened the clasps and the book fell open, just as if it was eager to be read. Despite herself, the Bookseller’s youngest daughter leaned over to look, and on the page before her she saw an awful picture. It was of a sheep’s head rising out of a boiling cauldron. And as she stared in fascinated horror the sheep’s head seemed to grown bigger and bigger, travelling out of the book until it floated right before her! She screamed once and collapsed on the ground.

With a low chuckle the tall man closed the book, carefully put it away, and left the shop.

When the Bookseller’s eldest daughter came home, she found a strange figure standing motionlessly in the middle of the shop. It wore her sister’s clothes, but instead of her sister’s pretty head an old sheep’s head grew from its shoulders!

Well, you can imagine the to-do that followed. The Bookseller was horrified. “Who will marry her now?!” he wailed as he pushed his poor youngest daughter out to the back of the shop and away from prying eyes. “She will have to live here with me forever! Unless,” he considered, stopping in his tracks, “Unless we could get her into a sanatorium! We could say she had a disease. But then,” he added, his face falling, “that would cost money.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter found that the creature that had been her sister was quite tractable. It would follow where it was lead, and sit where it was told, and eat what was put in front of it. But it didn’t speak and it didn’t do anything but face straight ahead with its great eyes rolling in their sockets. “Keep it in the back room,” said the Bookseller, “I won’t have the neighbours gossiping about us. And make us some dinner.”

So his eldest daughter had a poor attempt at soup — I’m afraid she was an indifferent cook — and then sat and held her unlucky sister’s hand while her father whined and moaned about how their fortunes were all ruined.

The Bookseller was a man of regular habits. Every night, as soon as the kitchen clock struck eight he would stand from his armchair by the fire, sharply tell his daughters to cover over the ashes in the stove before they slept least a fire break out (he had a dread of fire destroying his stock) and take himself to bed. And the two girls would clean the kitchen, lock the door and go to the small bed they shared.

But this evening, once she could hear her father snoring in his room, the eldest daughter gently laid her sister out on their bed, covered her with a blanket, put on her sensible old boots, and slipped out into the night.

Now in the daily way of business the Bookseller’s eldest daughter had travelled all over that city, and she heard all the rumours and gossip that fly about every place where there are people. And while she didn’t necessarily believe everything that was said, she always stored it all away in the back of her mind, just in case. So she remembered hearing that at the end of a lonely lane behind the Braziers’ Quarter was an old house where a witch lived. And people who were in real need would visit this witch to get a neighbour’s curse unspelled, or find a child that had been beguiled by efts, or drive out gnarlings who had taken residence in a cellar.

So the Bookseller’s eldest daughter walked through the city — from the Antique Quarter into the Clockmakers’ Quarter, and from the Clockmakers’ Quarter into the Ostlers’ Quarter, down front streets and back streets — until she came to the lonely lane behind the Braziers’ Quarter. And, as she had been told, at the very end of that lane sat a rickety old house. There was no mistaking it — it looked like the sort of house a witch would live in. It was tall and thin, with a high attic window and a small white porch. And hanging from the porch was an elegant sign that said:

Dealer in Magic and Spells Reasonable Rates Pls Enquire Within

And below, fiercely handwritten in what looked like mulberry ink:

Hawkers will be transmuted into livestock and sold at market without character (recollect your Homer)

She stepped up onto the porch and tapped three times on the green front door. But it was a witch’s house and she was nervous, so perhaps she tapped a little softly; at any rate no-one came to answer. So then she tried the door, and to her great surprise it was unlatched! (The Witch had rather gotten out of the habit of latching her front door, because nobody with any sense was going to trespass in her house.) Slowly slowly the Bookseller’s eldest daughter pushed the door open and peered into the shadowy hall and whispered “Hello?” And when nobody answered she stepped over the threshold and into the Witch’s house.

Before her were stairs leading up to the first floor, but beyond them the hallway lead to a door, and standing in the doorway holding a candle and looking very surprised was a girl of about her own age. She had long black hair and was wearing a white night dress.

“Oh no,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, “I was looking for the Witch, but I suppose she’s already gone to bed!”

“Well, she was on her way,” said the girl, raising her candle to peer at the visitor.

“But I need her help!” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter. “It’s very important! Do you think she’d be awful if we woke her up?”

“Oh, I expect she’d probably turn you into a cameleopard and sell you to a travelling menagerie,” said the girl, “She’s frightfully bad-tempered and also very interested in natural history.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter wrung her hands. “Oh dear! And I know my father won’t let me away from the shop any earlier tomorrow evening, the business and his dinner must always come first! What am I to do?”

“I find sleeping in one’s own bed to be very efficacious in solving whatever little problem comes one’s way,” observed the girl, “perhaps you could try that?”

“But my sister is in my bed, and she has been half turned into a sheep!” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

“That would seem to be somewhat of an obstacle to a restful night,” the girl admitted. “Although, not ever having found myself in that particular circumstance, I couldn’t say with any certainly.”

And at that the Bookseller’s eldest daughter had a wild idea. She eyed the girl anew. “You must be the Witch’s girl!” she decided.

The girl raised her eyebrows. “Must I?”

“Yes! And so of course you would have seen all sorts of strange things while you were in her service!”

“I suppose that’s true,” said the Witch’s girl.

“So perhaps you could help me save my sister!”

“Perhaps I could,” said the Witch’s girl thoughtfully, “But you must know that the Witch always asks a price for her help. That’s how magic works — even for a Witch’s girl. What would you give me to save your sister?”

Now the Bookseller’s eldest daughter wanted to say ‘Anything!’, just like you would have in her place. But she had read about magic and bargains made with queer folk at night, and besides she was a Woman of Business and knew when and how to barter. So she frowned and said “Of course I want to save my sister more than anything. But I’m afraid I have little to offer you. What do you think you would you like?”

The Witch’s girl considered this. “Perhaps,” she suggested after a moment, “I could offer you a little bit of help in return for a very small price.”

“What sort of price?”

The Witch’s girl put her head on one side and looked at the Bookseller’s long-limbed, tangle-headed daughter, and then she said “From some people I might ask for a secret nobody knows. And from others I might ask for a happy memory. But from you I think I will ask for a single kiss on the lips.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter gave her a suspicious look and said “Why, does a kiss have magical properties that you can use for spells?”

The Witch’s girl bristled and said “No! I mean, yes, but no, I was trying to be—!” And then she looked up at the ceiling and sighed in a way that the Bookseller’s eldest daughter thought unnecessarily theatrical. “Do you want my help?”

“Yes,” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

“Well then, will you risk kissing a witch’s girl? Even if she may potentially later use that kiss in sinister and occult ways?”

Then the Bookseller’s eldest daughter looked at the Witch’s dark-eyed girl for a moment, and perhaps she was thinking about her poor enchanted sister and perhaps she wasn’t, but when she answered she said “Alright.”

The Witch’s girl looked a little surprised, but she said “Come along then! And shut the door behind you. The Witch has a horror of strays.” And she turned and lead the way to the back of the house.

Now I don’t know what you think of when you imagine a witch’s kitchen, but when the Bookseller’s eldest daughter stepped into this kitchen she found it was clean and tidy and well kept, though you could still tell that it was a Witch’s kitchen because of the stuffed crocodile hanging from the ceiling and the several jars over the mantelpiece that were labelled things like ‘Unspoken Words Between Lovers’ and ‘Star — unlighted’ and ‘Forgotten Hours’ and one that was unlabelled but which the Bookseller’s eldest daughter suspected contained marmalade.

The Witch’s girl set a kettle on the stove to boil and asked how the Bookseller’s eldest daughter liked her tea, and when they each had a cup and were sitting at the table she said “I suppose you had better tell me what has happened,” and the Bookseller’s eldest daughter did. And then the Witch’s girl sipped her tea and thought.

“Well,” she said after a while, “Of course I’m only the Witch’s girl, but it seems to me that some magician or other has stolen your sister’s head. And the sheep’s head is there to keep her body (and thus her real head) alive. Have you upset any magicians lately?”

“No!” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, “we don’t even know any magicians!”

“Perhaps you were recently ill-mannered to a man in a tall pointed hat, possibly covered in stars? You do seem to be rather indifferent to social propriety, so you may not even have noticed how awful you were being.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter rolled her eyes and didn’t answer.

“Well then, taking the bolder hypothesis (that is, assuming you haven’t committed some act of breathtaking insolence toward a member of the magical community) perhaps the magician wanted your sister’s head itself. Is she as pretty as you?”

“Oh, much prettier!” said the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

The Witch’s girl sniffed and said that she didn’t approve of hyperbole. “Now your first problem,” she went on while the Bookseller’s eldest daughter tried to think that through, “is that you don’t know who this magician (or enchanter or fairy prince) is. And I think I can help you with that. Come to me tomorrow with something of your sister’s, preferably—”

But the Bookseller’s eldest daughter was already holding out a comb with a few brown hairs on it. “My sister’s comb. I am a Woman of Business,” she explained, “And I prefer to learn all I can about a matter before striking out on any new endeavour, even magic. William Samcloth’s Several and Diverse Accounts of Antique Sorceries with Commentary indicated that something like this might be useful. Although I’m afraid we only have volumes one and three.”

“I see,” said the Witch’s girl, taking the comb and trying not to look impressed. “Well then, let us begin.” And with quick, clever fingers she freed the hairs and wove them into a circlet. She placed this on the table, then poured a little pool of wine within the ring... and somehow or other not a drop flowed out beyond the circlet of hair, but instead the formed a dark red mirror that reflected the two girls in the candlelight. Then the Witch’s girl blew over the puddle of wine, making waves, and when the waves cleared the Bookseller’s eldest daughter was looking into the firelit study of a wealthy man.

And here was the man himself, tall and distinguished looking, and still in his shirt and vest, though he had changed the coat we last saw him in for a sapphire-blue dressing gown (which appeared a sort of plum colour to the observers).

“Ah,” said the Witch’s girl, “Mister Prosper. A rich man and an ambitious student of magic.”

But now Mister Prosper was making several odd gestures in the air and reciting something-or-other, though no sound could be heard by the two girls bending over the image in that small kitchen. And then a Very Wonderful Person stepped through the curtains. They were tall, even taller than Mister Prosper, and wore an exquisite tail-coat of crimson. The Person’s face was not visible to the young women, but they had hair like a ruby sunset.

The two spoke for a short time, and then Mister Prosper took up a box from his desk and presented it to the person, who opened it and then—!

“Oh!” cried the Bookseller’s eldest daughter, for inside she saw her own dear sister’s head staring fearfully about! The Person picked up the Bookseller’s youngest daughter’s head by the hair and appeared to examine it, then nodded. A bargain had been made. Putting the head back in its box, the Person turned and appeared to summon someone. A moment later a short figure with vine-leaves for hair stepped into view and went to stand before Mister Prosper, looking rather annoyed about everything. The Wonderful Person bowed and disappeared back through the curtains, and the waters settled down to show only the wood of the kitchen table.

“There you are,” said the Witch’s girl sitting back in quiet triumph. “Mister Prosper stole away the head of your sister to give to That Person, and in return he got a fairy servant. And no doubt he’ll be up to all sorts of carry-on now.”

“But where has my sister’s head gone?” cried the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

“Oh, with the fairies,” said the Witch’s girl, and she handed the circlet of hair back to the Bookseller’s eldest daughter and fetched a cloth to mop up the wine. “And a few hairs aren’t enough to show her to us while she’s with them.”

“But how am I to get her back?!” cried the Bookseller’s eldest daughter.

And the Witch’s girl looked annoyed and said How should she know, she was only the Witch’s girl after all. “I said I would give you a little bit of help, and I have. Now you know what happened to your sister. What happens next is up to you.”

The Bookseller’s eldest daughter thought this through and found she had to agree. “Very well,” she said as she rose to her feet, “I suppose if I am to deal with the fairies I will need to consider that meeting very carefully.”

“Very wise,” said the Witch’s girl, “I shall walk you to the door.”

But as the Bookseller’s eldest daughter was about to step outside the Witch’s girl cleared her throat meaningfully and she suddenly remembered her bargain.

“Oh yes, of course,” she said turning back. The Witch’s girl was standing right behind her and without thinking about it too much the Bookseller’s eldest daughter leant down a little and quickly pressed her lips to the Witch’s girl’s.

Now I don’t know what you think kissing a witch’s girl would be like — maybe chilling like deep water? or dried out and dusty like something old and forgotten? — but the Bookseller’s eldest daughter discovered that this Witch’s girl’s lips were warm and alive and as soft as a whisper. And what she meant to be a brisk transaction went on far longer than she had intended; and in fact it was the Witch’s girl who stepped away first.

“Our bargain is fulfilled,” she said a little gruffly, “Good night.”

And the Bookseller’s eldest daughter found herself standing all alone outside that odd house, facing a firmly closed door.

The next chapter

#The Bookseller’s Eldest Daughter and the Witch’s Girl #myka bering #helena g wells #bering and wells #bering & wells

39 notes · View notes

disneyparksattractionstournament · 10 months

Text

Matchups for Best Extinct Disney Parks Experience/Attraction Round 1

Hey fam! Still working on creating all the images and creating the info on the polls, that will be a bit(takes longer than you would think! Hopefully will start in a week or? ) But in the meantime, here are the tentative matchups/tentative brackets, possibly could change a bit!

Setting up as two 64 brackets then the 2 winners going head to head, type of deal! Havent decided which of the 4 groups, seperated ish by categories, will go head to head though!

Note, half of these are my submissions since I only got like 50 something lmaooo)

Group 1:

Horizons vs Space Mountain - Ghost Galaxy

Peoplemover vs Adventure Thru Inner Space

Rocket Rods vs Backlot tour

Innoventions vs Sounds dangerous

Superstar Limo vs Orange Stinger

Pleasure island vs Disney quest

River country vs Discovery island

Wonders of Life Sensory Fun house vs Honey I Shrunk the Kids playset

Stitch's Great Escape! vs The Enchanted Tiki Room:Under New Management

Shark reef (Typhoon Lagoon) vs Kim Possible: World Showcase Adventure

Castle Mystery Tour vs ExtraTerrorestrial Alien Encounter

The Great Movie Ride vs Journey into Narnia and The Legend of Captain Jack Sparrow

Food Rocks/Kitchen Kabaret vs Maelstrom

Test Track 1.0 vs Ellen's Universe of Energy

Cranium Command vs El Rio del Tiempo

Journey Into Imagination vs 20k leagues under the sea

Group 2:

Mickey and the Magical Map vs Main Street Electrical Parade

Spirit of Aloha dinner show vs Legend of the Lion King

Remember the Magic parade vs Dream Along With Mickey show

Magic Journeys vs Honey, I Shrunk the Audience

Illuminations vs Star Wars Fireworks

Red Cad Trolley News Boys vs Club Buzz / Calling All Space Scouts… a Buzz Lightyear Adventure

Push the Talking Trash Can vs Epcot Living statues

Character dining at the Liberty Tree Tavern vs The Muppets Present...Great Moments in American History

Golden Dreams vs Eureka! The California Adventure Parade

Tapetry of Nations parade vs Wishes

Citizens of Hollywood/Main street vs Lucky the Dinosaur

Mickey climbing the Matterhorn vs Disneyland mermaids

Paint the Night Parade vs Mad T Party

Stars and Motorcars parade vs Mickey's Jammin Jungle Parade

Animagique vs Kitetails

Spectromagic parade vs Mickey Mania parade

Group 3:

Seasons of the Vine vs Mission Tortilla Factory

25th Cake Castle vs Stitch TP castle

Epcot Spaceship Earth Wand/2000 vs Earffel Tower

Pre-Frozen Norway Epcot vs Wonders of Life pavilion

The Land fountain/pre 2004 The Land vs Epcot future world floor fibre optic lights

Downtown disney vs Millennium village

Aunt Polly’s vs Soundstage restaurant

Mouse Gear vs Old World of Disney

Old entrance plaza/section of DCA vs A Bugs Land

Pizza planet vs Electric umbrella

Big coke bottle mist sprays at MGM vs Space Mountain bouncy walkway after ride

Cinderella Castle Christmas lights vs Old Cinderella Castle colors

Toontown fair vs Streets of America

MGM Sorcerer's hat vs DCA letters

Fountain of Nations vs Old Polynesian Lobby

Ice Station Cool vs Old MK hub/plaza

Group 4:

Old Kilimanjaro Safaris with plotline/Little Red VS. Pre 2007 Spaceship Earth ending

Old attic scene in Haunted Mansion with pop up yelling jump scare ghosts VS. Fountains in Small World/old colors

Strawberry Minnie Fruit bars vs Simba Paw ice cream bar

Osborne Family Spectacle of Dancing Lights vs Jedi Training Academy

Disney dollars vs Hard tickets at Disney World

Old look of chocolate coins in parks(with Dumbo, Jiminy Cricket, and Scrooge) vs Wake Tinker Bell at Tinker Bell’s Treasures

Wading in lakes/beaches vs Riding in the front of the monorail

Tom Sawyer paint brushes vs Magical express

Pal Mickey vs Is that you tigger merch OR customizable feet and ear cups (havent decided between the 2 yet)

Extra magic hours(Like, the ones where they stayed open til 12am or even 3am) vs Star Wars Weekends

Unique Bedspreads vs Resort Bedtime stories TV

Fun road signs vs Epcot Innoventions and old Entrance loop

Epcot kidcot masks/duffy vs Penny press with cranks

Mickey confetti or mickey straws (havent decided yet) vs Pirates of the Caribbean barker parrot

Free roaming characters in Disney World vs Paper fastpasses

Yellow ponchos vs Hotel mickey soap

#disney parks #disney #disney world #disneyland #wdw #disney rides #extinct rides #extinct disney #old disney #matchups

12 notes · View notes

ebaeschnbliah · 2 years

Photo

They remained some days in Lothlórien ...

... so far as they could tell or remember. All the while that they dwelt there the sun shone clear, save for a gentle rain that fell at times, and passed away leaving all things fresh and clean. The air was cool and soft, as if it were early spring, yet they felt about them the deep and thoughtful quiet of winter. It seemed to them that they did little but eat and drink and rest, and walk among the trees; and it was enough.

They had not seen the Lord and Lady again, and they had little speech with the Elven-folk; for few of these knew or would use the Westron tongue. Haldir had bidden them farewell and gone back again to the fences of the North, where great watch was now kept since the tidings of Moria that the Company had brought. Legolas was away much among the Galadhrim, and after the first night he did not sleep with the other companions, though he returned to eat and talk with them. Often he took Gimli with him when he went abroad in the land, and the others wondered at this change.

Now as the companions sat or walked together they spoke of Gandalf, and all that each had known and seen of him came clear before their minds. As they were healed of hurt and weariness of body the grief of their loss grew more keen. Often they heard nearby Elvish voices singing, and knew that they were making songs of lamentation for his fall, for they caught his name among the sweet sad words that they could not understand.

Mithrandir, Mithrandir sang the Elves, O Pilgrim Grey! For so they loved to call him. But if Legolas was with the Company, he would not interpret the songs for them, saying that he had not the skill, and that for him the grief was still too near, a matter for tears and not yet for song.

It was Frodo who first put something of his sorrow into halting words. He was seldom moved to make song or rhyme; even in Rivendell he had listened and had not sung himself, though his memory was stored with many things that others had made before him. But now as he sat beside the fountain in Lórien and heard about him the voices of the Elves, his thought took shape in a song that seemed fair to him; yet when he tried to repeat it to Sam only snatches remained, faded as a handful of withered leaves.

When evening in the Shire was grey, his footsteps in the Hill were heard, before the dawn he went away on journey long without a word. From Wilderland to Western shore, from northern waste to southern hill, through dragon-lair and hidden door and darkling woods he walked at will. With Dwarf and Hobbit, ElvesMen, with mortal and immortal folk, with bird on bough and beast in den, in their own secret tongues he spoke. A deadly sword, a healing hand, a back that bent beneath its load; a trumpet-voice, a burning brand, a weary pilgrim on the road. A lord of wisdom throned he sat, swift in anger, quick to laugh; an old man in a battered hat who leaned upon a thorny staff. He stood upon the bridge alone, and fire and shadow both defied. His staff was broken on the stone. In Khazad-dûm his wisdom died.

`Why, you'll be beating Mr. Bilbo next! ' said Sam.

'No, I am afraid not,' said Frodo. 'But that is the best I can do yet.'

'Well, Mr. Frodo, if you do have another go, I hope you'll say a word about his fireworks,' said Sam. `Something like this:

The finest rockets ever seen: they burst in stars of blue and green, or after thunder, golden showers came falling like a rain of flowers.

Though that doesn't do them justice by a long road.'

`No, I'll leave that to you, Sam. Or perhaps to Bilbo. But-well. I can't talk of it any more. I can't bear to think of bringing the news to him.'

Frodo’s Lament for Gandalf & Sam’s Fireworks Poem performed by The Tolkien Ensemble:

youtube

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the mirror of galadriel #jrr tolkien #lothlorien #caras galadhon #aragorn #boromir #legolas #gimli #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #movie pics #peter jackson #music #the tolkien ensemble

28 notes · View notes

ciaossu-imagines · 1 year

Text

HEATHENS- A SANZO-IKKOU MIX

♫ CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, kansas – carry on/ you will always remember/carry on/nothing equals the splendor/now your life’s no longer empty/surely heaven waits for you

♫ BLUE JEANS & WHITE T-SHIRTS, the gaslight anthem – we are the boys from little eden/we are the heart of saturday night/we drink from the fountains off the fireworks/sweat and bone for a better life

♫ TIME OF DYING, three days grace – wake me up/i’m living a nightmare/i will not die/i will not die/I will survive

♫ MONSTER HOSPITAL, metric – i fought the war/but the war won’t stop/for the love of god/i fought the war/but the war won

♫ GHOSTS, ladytron – made you a prince with a thousand enemies/now i see you from the corner/clock strikes and i know you’ll be drinking alone/there’s a ghost in me

♫ STARING AT THE SUN, the offspring – when i ran i didn’t feel like a runaway/hey/when i escaped i didn’t feel like i got away/hey/there’s more to living than only surviving/maybe i’m not there/but i’m still trying

♫ ALL THE SAME TO ME, anya marina – and i sure won’t budge/when the earth does shake/when the flood comes up/i will dance in the rain/’cause it’s all the same to me/somebody care/somebody care/somebody care for me

♫ HEATHENS, twenty-one pilots – we don’t deal with outsiders very well/they say newcomers have a certain smell/you have trust issues/not to mention/they say they can smell your intentions

♫ JACKIE CHAN, the dollyrots – i know kung fu/i’m not afraid to use it on you/i’m gonna whoop your ass/’cuz i can fight like Jackie chan

♫ WHAT A WICKED GANG ARE WE, streetlight manifesto – everybody’s got their reasons/everybody’s got their ghosts to fear/when i look back all i see is i’ve done something wrong

♫ THE LAST SONG, the years gone by – time flies by/alone i’m nothing/without these guys i’m missing something/best friends for a lifetime/now we’re brothers/ i know we’ll survive

♫ BUDDHA’S DELIGHT, haley bennet – so forget about your past life/cause this could be our last life/we’re gonna reach nirvana

♫ YOU’VE MADE US CONSCIOUS, the audition – the simple ways we roll our eyes/are exactly how we disguise our secrets/you know you need this

♫ HEAVY CROSS, gossip – we can play it safe or play it cool/follow the leader or make up all the rules/whatever you want/the choice is yours/so choose

#event asks #saiyuki #music mix #sanzo ikkou #click the music note for the song

13 notes · View notes

mt07131 · 1 year

Text

OC Tag meme

@grapecaseschoices tagged me in this and it looks like fun soooo I'm gonna tag @cerbin-aen-feainn @lottievan @calla-lilly @strawbebyjam and anyone else who wants to do it <3

Naturally, we're gonna do it with the beloved Maeve Divine since I'm always rotating her in my head

— rules: always, never, sometimes

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS.

effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS.

crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST.

lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES.

denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS.

newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS.

combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS.

dancing until the break of dawn, Heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.

#oc tag meme #this was fun!!!!#maeve divine #maeve infamous

12 notes · View notes

tag-oc-games · 2 years

Text

Aesthetic game found here.

OC Aesthetic Tag Game thing

Bold

=always/totally fits them

italics

=sometimes/somewhat applies/sorta fits them

strikethrough

=never

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST. lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS. newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS. combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair. :

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it.growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

#oc aesthetics #aesthetics #light #nature #fire #solar system #personality #five senses #senses #tag your aesthetic #bold your aesthetic

22 notes · View notes