#every day is April fools day when you’re attracted to men

[esotericismmm]

It’s so over 💀💀💀💀

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Klaus: Every day is April fools when you’re attracted to men

[livingforhappymoments]

every day is april fools when you’re attracted to men… listen to my playlist :)

play and share 🤝

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

On Me...or on You?

destiel au

rated t

~2.2k

“Dean! Table six has been waiting for almost ten minutes. And I can’t see that guy’s face, but his posture is very tense.”

“You know I suck at this, Charlie.” Dean checks all his pockets for his pen, comes up empty, then sighs thankfully when Charlie hands him one from behind the bar.

Nodding, Charlie says, “You really do. But you’re stuck. We all are, really. So go take care of the guys at table six and then go see if the rowdies in the corner need refills.”

Dean grimaces. “Do I have to?”

Charlie grins. “They’ll probably be obnoxious, but they’ll be good tippers. Trust me.”

“I can’t believe I’m working for tips,” he grumbles, pulling out his notebook.

“Just show ‘em that smile, Dean. You can’t lose!” she teases.

Dean wishes it worked that way. He really is terrible at this job. Sam–his brother–is lucky they’re close, and he doesn’t hold all those childhood pranks against him. If he was one to hold a grudge about the shaving cream in his shoes, or the saran wrap on the toilet (although really Dean feels like he deserved that one, since it was April Fool’s Day and he wasn’t smart enough to look) he’d be out of here in a heartbeat. But he loves his brother, dorky guy that he is. Despite his fascination with computers and his propensity to spend most of his free time with his nose in a book, he’s a fantastic chef, and he’s worked hard to build this place into what it is.

It’s not Sam’s fault he has one waitress out on maternity leave and had another ask for sudden time off to visit her sick mom in Idaho. It is Sam’s fault he’s got irresistible puppy dog eyes, but that’s really Dean’s problem, not Sam’s.

Two men sit at table six, and Charlie’s right, the dark haired one looks...tense. The other one, smaller, with longish, light brown hair, seems in a fine mood, though. Actually, he looks like not much could get him down. He’s–Dean blinks, then looks again. Yeah, he’d seen right the first time. The guy is sucking on a bright red lollipop.

Huh. Something new every day, right?

Dean pastes a smile onto his face and steps up to the table. “Hi, welcome to The Bunker. I’m Dean, I’ll be your server tonight. Can…”

And then his thoughts fall out of his head, because the dark haired guy looks up at him, and it doesn’t even matter that he’s glaring. He’s the most beautiful man Dean’s ever seen. Sexy hair, right on the line between black and brown, standing out in all directions like someone’s been running her–his?–fingers through it. Piercing blue eyes. And he’s not smiling now, but somehow Dean can tell he’s got a showstopper. There are faint lines at the corners of his eyes that show that they’ll just crinkle up when he smiles.

Dean wants to feel the weight of that smile.

“Do you think we could possibly have something to drink? We’ve been waiting for awhile,” the man says, and Dean’s nearly struck dumb again by his voice, low and rough and mesmerizing, even when it’s speaking somewhat angrily at him.

Unfortunately, Dean’s mouth chooses this moment to speak without permission from his brain.

“Oh, you can have whatever you’d like, darlin’.” The words pop out, dripping with innuendo, followed by that smile Charlie’d mentioned.

And then his ears hear what he’d said, and he feels the blush taking over his face.

“I mean–uh–oh fuck,” Dean says, and then he realizes he probably shouldn’t swear in front of customers either. Sam’s going to murder him.

The light haired man slurps his lollipop and then cackles. “I like this one, Cassie. You should keep him.”

“Gabriel. I did not ask for your opinion. And I didn’t even want to come here with you. If you can’t keep your...your comments...to yourself, I’m leaving now. And you can find your own way home.”

“I’ll be good,” Gabriel says, and he looks almost chastised. “You have to stay, Castiel. Trust me, the food here is excellent. And the desserts..” He looks up at Dean. “Is Eileen here tonight?”

Dean, surprised, just nods.

“I don’t know where she was trained, but Eileen makes the best desserts around.”

Finally finding his voice again, Dean says, “She got her start in New York City. She worked in some pretty high class places there, actually.”

The dark haired man–Cassie? Castiel?–tilts his head and asks, “What’s she doing in Kansas?”

Dean smiles at this, a secret kind of smile. “She fell in love.”

Neither of them has a response to this, and an awkward silence falls over the table. Finally Dean remembers that, oh yeah, he’s supposed to be working here, and he manages to take their drink orders without incident. He brings them to Charlie, slumping down on one of the barstools and repeatedly hitting his forehead on the worn wood of the bar.

Charlie, her usual buoyant self, snatches his notepad from his hand and goes about mixing the drinks. After about a minute he sits up and looks at her, and she grins. “Well, that seems promising.”

“Were you watching some alternate version of Dean Winchester? One who didn’t act like an idiot in front of a customer–twice–and ruin any chance he could possibly have with the most attractive guy he’s ever seen?”

Shrugging, Charlie says, “He didn’t slap you. And he didn’t leave. And his brother seems to like you.”

“I guess he–wait, his brother? Charlie, do you know more than you’re saying here?”

Charlie doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, but of course she doesn’t really have an embarrassed face. “Maybe,” she says, smiling sweetly. “But it’s nothing nefarious. Just a little harmless...hope.”

“Charlie,” Dean says, and there’s warning in his voice.

“Gabriel comes in here a lot, okay? He loves Eileen’s desserts, I’m pretty sure he’s had all of them at least twice, and he’s pretty fond of Sam’s cooking too. He saw you one day, and we got to chatting, and he mentioned his brother, and…” She shrugs. Then she leans across the bar, grinning. “He’s dreamy, right? Just your type. And did you see his arms? I mean, he’s certainly not my type, but those are nice arms. I’m pretty sure about that.”

“Yeah, they really–” Dean starts, then he glares at her. “Charlie! You know how I feel about being set up. Not like it matters, since I already blew it.”

Waving her hand dismissively, Charlie says, “Oh, you did not. Here. Take them their drinks and tell them–while you look at Cas–that they’re on you. Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Cas,” he says. He likes the way the name feels in his mouth. Charlie grins.

Dean takes the tray of drinks uncertainly, but as he’s walking to the table his confidence grows. Sure, it means buying drinks for the two men, but it’ll be worth it means he’s still got a shot with Cas.

“Hey,” he says as he walks up to the table. “Sorry about earlier. I’m not–well, anyway. Let me make it up to you. Drinks are on me, okay?”

Gabriel’s smiling, and Cas seems to be softening, but then something goes horribly wrong. Just as Dean says “okay” his foot finds a spot in the carpet or a chair leg that shouldn’t be there or something; whatever it is, it causes Dean to stumble forward, and the drinks slide off the end of the tray and right into Cas’s face. He looks up at Dean, hair plastered to his head, the skewer of pineapple and cherries from Gabriel’s drink sticking out of his collar. He looks less than pleased.

“Oh,” Dean says, a horrified tone in his voice. “Oh fuck. Oh dammit I said fuck again. Oh...Ah, I’m so, so sorry. Can I...can I help?”

Cas’s gaze is almost painful. “I’m fairly certain you’ve helped enough, Dean.”

The words sting. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Look, I’ll send Charlie over to help you clean up, she’ll take care of you. I’m really–” But he looks at Cas, and his heart breaks a little at a connection missed, or lost, and he doesn’t apologize again. Once was enough. Instead he says, “I hope you’ll come back again. Sam’s cooking, Eileen’s baking, even Charlie’s drinks. They’re all worth it. The Bunker is a good place.”

He nods his head a little, waves Charlie over and goes to check on the booth in the corner. He smiles his charming smile, brings the rowdy, celebrating girls all the drinks and desserts they want, and by the time he’s finished taking care of them, Cas and Gabriel are gone.

Charlie’s right though. The girls are great tippers.

*

Dean’s warming up the next night when there’s a knock on his door. He looks up from his bench to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe, an odd smile on her face.

“There’s someone here to see you, Dean,” she says. He can’t quite get a read on her voice. She sounds like she’s hiding something, but he can’t figure out what.

He glances at the clock on the wall. “I’ll be out in ten minutes, same as always.

“You can’t come out now?”

He’s annoyed, but only slightly. “I never come out early, Charlie. It breaks the routine. Ten minutes.” He looks at the clock again. “Actually, nine now. Now get out of here so I can get ready.”

“But Dean–”

“Out, Charlie.”

She leaves.

Dean spends a moment or two thinking about the oddness of the encounter; Charlie knows his routines, and knows not to disrupt them. But then he gets back to getting into the mindset he needs, pushing Charlie from his thoughts. He’ll figure her out later.

*

When Dean steps out onto the small stage wedged into the corner of the dining room there’s a smattering of applause. He smiles and waves then sits down at the baby grand piano that fills the stage. “Hey Baby,” he murmurs, running a hand along the smooth wood. The piano’s been his as long as he can remember; he started taking lessons when he was five and he’s been enchanted by her ever since. He started singing along when he was seven, and started writing his own songs when he was ten. When Sam bought the space for The Bunker he made sure there was a place big enough for Dean to play–because that was what they did. Sam played with food and Dean played with music. This was a way for them to work together.

There are lights in his eyes, so Dean can’t really see into the dining room unless he squints, and it’s usually not all that important to him. He just lives with the music, sometimes doing covers, sometimes doing his own stuff. And everyone seems to like what he does, so he just keeps on doing it his way.

He can’t really see, so he’s surprised when just before he starts the first song, he hears a voice say, “Dean?” It’s a voice he recognizes, a voice that sends a spark down his spine.

His hands slip onto the keys, discordant notes ringing out through the dining room. “Sorry,” he says, flashing his charming grin at the room. “Just a little startled. Can you all give me just a moment?” He keeps up the smile, then steps to the edge of the stage.

“Cas?” And there he is, dark hair disheveled, blue eyes confused, sitting alone at the table nearest the stage.

“I don’t understand,” Cas says. “I thought you…”

Dean rubs at the back of his neck, an embarrassed grin on his face. “Nah, I was just helping out last night. Trust me, I’m not meant to be a server. I’m the talent. I also happen to be the owner’s brother, which is how I got wrangled into helping when two of his waitresses were out. Trust me, he doesn’t ask me often, I’m horrible at the job.”

“I noticed,” Cas says dryly.

Dean only laughs.

Cas looks at the piano on the stage, then back at Dean. “So you...play?”

“And sing. Which I should be doing now. Stick around until my break?” He doesn’t know why, he has no right to even hope, but he thinks Cas might agree.

He does.

*

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Thanks everyone, you’ve been great,” Dean says, stepping off the stage and meandering through the dining room towards the bar. He accepts compliments from several diners, offering smiles and the occasional handshake. He’s at ease among the crowd, but he’s got a destination in mind, and it’s not until he climbs onto a barstool that he feels truly happy.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says, turning to smile at him.

Dean had been right. That smile, it knocks him out every time.

He slips an arm around Cas’s waist and drops a kiss on his shoulder. “Hey Cas. Missed you.”

“You saw me two hours ago,” Cas says.

“It was a long and difficult two hours,” Dean pouts.

Cas huffs a laugh. “You were at a piano, Dean. You probably didn’t even notice time passing.”

Dean smiles into Cas’s shoulder. “Alright, it felt like a few minutes. But I still missed you.” He looks up into Cas’s eyes, says, “I’m on my break. Let me buy you a drink?”

Cas’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Nah,” he says, waving Charlie over. “That’s dangerous. This time the drinks are on me.”

[meowdymista]

Van der Driscoll pt 4

idek how this is still going but here we are. I like to please people like our bae, I guess

Part 3 & Masterlist

Part 5

In this booth in some rundown town west of Lemoyne, you’re grateful to have Arthur’s thumb rubbing calm circles on the back of your hand. His eyes are azure in the sunlight pouring through the shutters, watching the road outside for the third day since you’ve arrived.

The sound of you pushing your plate away attracts his attention.

“You need to eat something,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand with a small frown. You shrug indifferently, although the voice at the back of your mind is nagging the same thing. Your stomach is a separate entity to you now - it will betray you at the drop of a hat by suddenly dropping through the floor and pushing bile up in its place. How are you supposed to eat when you aren’t hungry? When anything that does pass your lips tastes like dirt, and tastes worse when it passes them again?

He sighs heavily, kissing your knuckles before enveloping them beneath both of this own. It’s like you’re watching him jump forward and backwards in time. The lines etch deeper in moments like these, when you’re sat by the window waiting. They drove themselves in hoards when conversation pulled you into heated discussion about right and wrong.

“A baby shouldn’t be born on the run from the law.”

“What about the boy? Jack?”

“It was different then - there weren’t so many Pinkertons, and they weren’t so determined.”

“OK, so why is he still running with you?”

“It’s different - they’re safer with us than out there where they can be grabbed for ransom.”

“Who would hold a boy and his mother for ransom?”

A dark look reminds you of the ten dollar murder. “These guys are the law-”

“And the law hire bounty hunters, don’t they? And them bounty hunters are anyone that steps off the street.”

Despite some strong arguments that stir doubt in your already unsettled insides, you can’t help but see the twinkle in his eyes when the barman talks to you about his own newborn daughter, promising that the baby will be worth every second - although it could be the lack of sleep making him delirious.

You came to bed late last night to find him passed out on top of the blankets still fully dressed. Taking pity on him, you removed his boots, stirring him from his sleep enough to get underneath the quilt and hold it up for you to curl in next to him. You slipped in, gasping as his strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled your back flush against his front, his nose buried in your hair.

“My lady and our baby,” he mumbled against the back of your neck as his palm flattened on your unchanged stomach.

“If you’ll have us,” you whispered in return, inhaling sharply as his grip tightened.

“I can’t be what I ain’t.” A kiss tingled your bare shoulder. “But I want you both more’n anything.”

“You promise?”

His warm breath chuckled over your back. “I ain’t lyin’ if that’s what you mean.” You turned your head, finding his heavy lids in the darkness of the room. “I’m sorry for how I acted - I loved being a father, and I’ve loved being with you. Best o’ both worlds but I know this world don’t work that way - for outlaws at least.”

“It’s worked for your brother.”

“Mm. That fool was always lucky.”

“We make our own luck in this world, Arthur. Have faith.”

He chuckled at that, burying his head deeper into his pillow. “A’ight. I’ll try.”

You push a piece of meat into your mouth and force yourself to chew. You’re sure this would taste amazing if you had found this place before you lost your appetite.

Arthur moves to his feet suddenly, eyes fixed outside. “He’s here.”

You follow his gaze to see a curt old man dismounting a stormy coloured turkoman. You recognise him instantly.

She can’t go free. Not with the Pinkertons after us.

"Arthur!" Hosea calls to the man half running off the wooden porch to meet him, hitching Silver Dollar on the side of the road. "Everything alright?"

"Hosea - you got the letter! I-" He moves his hat on his head, raking his hands through the mane of hair before setting it back down. "I didn't know who else to ask."

"Guess it fell through, whatever you intended to do?" The brown eyes drift to the window where you shrink out of view.

"Somethin' like that," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… we need to talk. I was hopin' you might be able to… to help in some way or at least lend another mind to workin' out what we gotta do now..."

"Is she worth it?" Hosea holds his son’s gaze steadily, tilting his chin towards the saloon.

"Yes. She's-" He breathes out shakily, looking over his shoulder to your peeping eyes. "She's important to me,  Hosea."

A hand clamps on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Let’s get properly introduced then.”

You hold your breath as the two men walk up to where you’re sat shrinking into the wall. Arthur slides in beside you, squeezing your leg with a small (albeit worried) smile as the stranger settles himself opposite you, his brown eyes bland and unreadable.

"So what is it you need to be telling me?" he asks calmly to no one in particular as he waves for a drink. "What's brought you all this way east for christ's sake?"

"I was gonna get her outta the country," Arthur explains lowly, his knee jittering again. "There're boats - ships that are taking people out of America. Get her away from Colm and us for that matter."

"But…?" He takes the whisky and throws it back, tucking a dollar in the garçon's pocket as he asks for the same again.

"But she- she weren't well."

"I'm pregnant." Your voice breaks, eyes blinking back tears. "Arthur's. I'm carrying Arthur's child."

He blows out his hollow cheeks, looking between the two of you as though expecting a cry of "April Fool's!" in June. Arthur's shoulders sag at his guardian's response.

"An' we ain't even told you the best part. Her cousin was on the ferry in Blackwater. Heidi. She's the one Dutch… you know."

He drags his hands down his face. "Could you bring us the bottle?" he calls before the barman can return. "The bottle and- two? Three glasses?"

“We owe it to her, Hosea!”

“Are you-” He waves his hand, looking between you. “What are your plans?”

“She’s keeping it.”

You nod in agreement, holding onto him for dear life as the man pours you each a glass and toasts. You try to follow suit, but the smell knocks your stomach before you can drink it. You set it back down, pushing the glass away as Arthur rubs your back understandingly.

“Don’t start this again,” growls Arthur, surprising you with his tired hostility. “Please.”

The old man’s voice is hushed, eager. “Think about it - this is an opportunity to get outta this life!”

“I can’t do that, Hosea.”

“This could be whatever deity is up there giving you a second chance! You’ve said it yourself, Arthur. We’re thieves in a world that don’t want us no more.”

“I ain’t leavin’, Hosea. You know I can’t, ‘specially now.”

Regret saturates his sigh, the twinkle in his eye extinguished as he leans his head against the back of the bench. “I know, son. Can’t blame a feller for hopin’.” Silence stretches out between you before the older man speaks again. “So what is it you’re wanting to do? We both know you ain’t dumb enough to want to bring her into camp.”

“What else is there to do?” Urgency cracks his voice as he tries to speak quietly. “Dutch killed her ticket outta here - we owe it to her!”

“He’s paranoid enough without introducing someone with motive. Morale is as low as it’s ever been right now - if word gets out that the girl was related to the new O’Driscoll? People will panic, Arthur. We’ve already lost too many-”

“I just want to keep the baby,” you interrupt, your eyes begging for him to find your honesty. “I know what it looks like, but I didn’t know Arthur was runnin’ with anybody.”

“How did you get caught again? After kidnapping Bill, wasn’t it?”

“That wasn’t me!” you cry desperately.

“But you were there when he was tied to a post?”

“I only went down to see what- what Heidi did. I just wanted to put a face to the story- Please believe me! I ain’t about revenge, and I ain’t about to do anything to put Arthur or the baby in danger-”

“Promises aren’t enough to vouch for you.”

“I won’t leave her side,” intervenes Arthur, squeezing you tight enough to fuse your sides together. “And if I do, you can watch her. Make sure she stays outta trouble.”

“And if both of us are away?”

His exhale is harsh, his mouth searching for words that can’t be found. Hosea tuts, more to himself than anything.

“I know I shoulda realised who I was gettin’ involved with,” Arthur says slowly, blue eyes begging. “But it’s too late for that. If there’s any way of keeping them with me, I gotta try. Please, Hosea. Help us?”

The bony man shrugs tiredly, shaking his head in defeat. "It ain’t me you need to convince, it’s Dutch."

“Do you think he’ll take it?”

“I don’t know anymore. Maybe if he sees how important she is to you.” He sighs, eyes searching the ceiling as though the answer might be hidden in the flaking white paint. “Like I said, he isn’t going to execute a woman carrying a child, and handing her back to Colm would be just that. Can’t hand her to the authorities neither in case she feeds them information.” Lips pressed together they all but disappear, he pours himself and Arthur another glass. “I suppose, until she proves herself to still be a threat we’re at an impasse.”

Arthur taps the glass with his free hand in time with the bounce of his knee. "I- I just don't wanna be the one bringing this gang to its knees."

“You won’t, Arthur.” A ghost of a smile dimples his cheek. “You know what you mean to us. Everyone knew something was happening with you - couldn’t not, knowing you as well as we do - and at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be fighting like this unless you trusted her. So… it’s time we trust your judgement.”

He throws the amber liquid into his mouth, wiping his hands over his thighs. “But - I will say this to the both of you right now-” He fixes you with an unforgiving stare, his neat voice hushed. “-if anyone in camp comes to harm as a result of your actions, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in you. Baby or no baby.”

“Hosea-!”

“I mean it.” His gaze doesn’t flicker, holding you like a snake charmer. “We aren’t like Colm, we don’t pick people up to expand our numbers. The Van der Linde gang is family. What we have is thicker than blood. Don’t go shedding any. Understand?”

“Yes,” you croak.

“Good.” He drains your untouched glass and gets to his feet. “Arthur, you should go on ahead. Tell Dutch what’s happened, but leave out the family history. I don’t want to play that card unless we absolutely have to.”

“And Y/N?”

“We’ll be behind you in the cart. On Silver Dollar, you should get back in a day and a half at a push - if we aim for two and a bit, that should give him plenty of time to cool off and think rationally.” The older man squeezes his son's arm. “Don’t look at me like that, son. She’ll be safe with me.”

****

As promised, after two nights travelling with Hosea, you arrive back to the heartlands of New Hanover. He explains, whilst pulling out a book from his bag, that you’re waiting here until Arthur comes to fetch you both. No point walking into camp if the heat is still on.

“And if it doesn’t calm down?” you ask.

“Well, I imagine he’ll come get you and take you on to Valentine.”

You wait for a few hours - it’s only as the sun is beginning to dip lower towards the horizon that Arthur comes out from between the trees. He gives Hosea a look that can only be described as… terse. Understanding immediately, Hosea clambers down.

“Give me five minutes before coming in. No point in talking if nobody can hear what you have to say.”

The two men exchange a series of pats as they pass each other. The shadows under Arthur’s eyes are almost black as he climbs up beside you.

“How’d it go?”

Hesitating, he squeezes your knee, placing a deep kiss to your forehead before flicking the reins. “Well. Guess we’ll see if it was enough.”

He guides the wagon a little further down the dirt track parallel with the train tracks. You can see a glimmer of light through the trees for a brief moment, but it’s not until you turn down a narrow path you wouldn’t have noticed otherwise that you recognise quite how sheltered the camp is. You brace yourself for a sniper to take you out, but you make it through to the clearing without crossing anyone’s path.

Arthur parks the cart, releasing the horses before helping you down.

“How do we even know it’s his?” you hear Dutch cry from the all too familiar central tent.

"You saw how she came in, so she was telling the truth about that. Why would she bother with that get up if they knew?"

“It’s Colm! He’s been trying to take us out for years!”

“Arthur cares for her. We should give her a chance.” A hefty scoff sounds. "He isn't like you or John; they've been intimate. Of course he cares! And she’s pregnant - that baby could come out blacker than the night sky and he’d take it in as his own."

Arthur’s fingers weave through your hair, pulling your ear to his chest. His hammering heart alone almost blocks out the noise but a growl makes you lift your head.

“Herr Morgan!”

“Herr Strauss.”

“There’s a debt I need you to collect.” The man’s face is long and thin with small round glasses perched at the very end of his nose - perfect for looking down into the book he’s carrying. “A rather reluctant client by the name of Downes.”

You jump at the sinister snarl that curls from Arthur’s lips. “I’m busy.”

“You don’t need to go immediately, Mr Morgan, but the sooner the better. Fellow seems determined to die before paying his dues.”

“If it’s so important, get someone else to do it.”

“I’ve tried but Mr Bell was a little too heavy handed. We can’t collect debts from the dead.”

“Well it’ll have to wait. I got more pressing matters right now.”

His beady eyes gleam as he surveys you. “So I’ve heard. The O’Driscoll girl, isn’t it?”

“Git outta here!”

“Arthur! Y/N!” Hosea calls you both from the flaps of Dutch’s tent. With one last sneer at Strauss, Arthur leads you to the castle by the hand, his fingers interlaced with yours as he steps in front of you, entering first to take the brunt of the hostile atmosphere.

Dutch is stood, feet planted apart beside a gramophone, arms folded across his chest as his eyes burn into yours with a fierce intensity.

“What are you wantin’ from us, Miss? To kill us in our sleep perhaps?”

“Dutch-”

“Let her speak, son!”

You take a steadying breath. “Mr Van der Linde-”

“Miss O’Driscoll,” he returns sarcastically, lighting a fat cigar.

“Miss L/N, actually,” you sneer. “I’m not here to harm any one of you. We’re in a predicament, and we’d appreciate it-”

“We got a sayin’ here,” he interrupts brashly. “We save people as need savin’, shoot fellers as need shootin’ and feed those who need feedin’. Which is it you’re needin’, Miss?”

“Feedin’ if you can, Dutch,” Arthur growls, squeezing your hand as he throws you a look. “Savin’ us if you will.”

He scoffs, shaking his head in despair. “So it’s ‘us’ now?”

The apple in Arthur’s throat bobs, his chin still held high. “Yes. We’re in it together. Where she goes I go. You’re my family and I want to stay, but if you can’t accept her, I guess we’ll have to go somewhere else.”

“Come now, Arthur-!”

“She’s carrying my child, Dutch.”

“That didn’t stop John disappearin’.”

“I ain’t Marston. You know that.”

“I know you’re still holdin’ a grudge on him, that’s for sure.”

Arthur sighs harshly, pulling your body flush with his. “What’s it gonna be, Dutch? She needs to rest. Can she stay, or am I takin’ her to town?”

He takes a long drag of his cigar, casually blowing the smoke into your face. “What happened to you, Arthur? You got so sour in your old age.”

“I got tired of worryin’ about everybody else.”

“Worryin’ about everybody else? Son, you want us to take in another O’Driscoll! It’s suicide!”

His shoulders fall, his grip tightening. “Well then, I guess it’s time to thank you for all them years.”

He tuts. “You don’t mean that.”

“Dutch, I ain’t slept proper since I brought her here, an’ I’m gettin’ real tired of talkin’. I can’t risk losin’ her like I did Eliza and Isaac.” They stare at each other, both stubborn and unrelenting.

He takes another long slow drag of smoke and lets it cloud the air between them. “Fine. She can stay. But first sign of trouble and she’s out!”

“A chance is all I’m askin’ for.” Tugging you out of the tent, he keeps his body between you and Van der Linde. “Thank you, Dutch.”

“This is on you, Hosea,” you hear as Arthur leads you to a small cot a dozen feet away. “Soft, the both of you.”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

OC Interview

I was tagged by @eddescuella and I will be doing all three of my babies! Tagging the others @r0xy-w0lf @verai-marcel @horsegirl1h @mrskrazy

Name?

“Misty Forester, or Misty Rodriguez. Depends on who you ask.”

“Michelle Delacruz. Michelle Mustang to everyone else.”

“Ryan Shane O’Donnell.”

Are you single? 

“For now.”

“Yes, and that ain’t changin’.”

Ryan purses his lips for a brief second. “Yes...”

Are you happy? 

“I don’t have a reason not to be.”

“For the time being.”

“I guess.”

Are you angry? 

“No, no reason to be.”

“I get angry about something or other on a daily basis.”

“Sometimes I feel anger...but I try to keep it contained.”

Are your parents still married? 

“My parents were never married, according to my mom.”

“They were before they died.”

“Very much still happily married.”

Nine facts!

Birthplace? 

“New York, where we don’t play.”

“New Austin, I think. Though I’ve heard speak about a place called Texas. Can’t really ask to confirm now.”

“Saint Denis.”

Hair colour? 

“Brown.”

“Black.”

“Red, or ginger as some people call it.”

Eye colour? 

“Green like the forests of West Elizabeth...or so I’ve been told.”

“A very light green. Sometimes they look gray.”

“Green...like the other two.”

Birthdate? 

“April 10th, 1877.”

“August 16th, 1877.”

“June 7th, 1875.”

Mood? 

Misty shrugs. “Pretty calm I guess.”

“Same.”

“Can’t say any different.”

Gender? 

“Female, duh.”

“Unless ya eyes ain’t working, female.”

“Male.”

Summer or winter? 

“I don’t mind both but I prefer summer.”

“I lived in the desert, so summer is a definite choice.”

“I like both, actually.”

Morning or afternoon? 

“I fucking hate mornings!”

“I’m an early riser through and through.”

“Used to be able to sleep in, but that changed when I had my son. So, mornings.”

Eight things about your love life

Are you in love? 

“Hmm...”

A look of longing appeared on Michelle’s face for a second. “I was once upon a time...”

“In a way I am, holding on to the past...”

Do you believe in love at first sight? 

“Love at first sight is all fairy tales.”

“That’s a no for me.”

“Used to think it was hogwash, until...” a small, sad smile crosses Ryan’s lips.

Who ended your last relationship?

“Never had one to begin with.”

“I did...I...had a son myself. Puny little thing who died just days after his birth. I was never the same afterward, and it drove a wedge between my lover and I. I couldn’t bare to hurt him anymore.”

Ryan places his hand on his chest, where a glint of a chain appeared with a delicate ring hanging from it. “Some racist bastards that killed my wife...”

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 

“Yes, I know I have. I was still a teenager... the poor boy thought he would have something with me.”

“When I ended my relationship, yes.”

“My mother’s...after I married someone she didn’t approve.”

Are you afraid of commitment? 

“After learning my mother had her heart and soul poured into my father and he hadn’t returned... I would say yes.”

“I’ve always been. Even when I was with my son’s father.”

“No, I was always confident with my choices. I knew when I wanted to marry my wife, and I never looked back.”

Have you hugged someone in the last week? 

“I probably have. Can’t exactly recall.”

“I don’t really give affection.”

“My son.”

Have you ever had a secret admirer? 

Misty snorts. “Oh yes. That boy I mentioned earlier.”

“Psht, nah. Pretty sure people are more afraid I’d put a bullet into them.”

“Well...growing up rich definitely made me desirable in many women’s eyes.”

Have you ever broken your own heart? 

“I suppose...when I was a child and wishing for every Christmas and birthday that my father would come back home...of course that never happened.”

“I fooled myself into thinking that I could have a decent life and family after struggling for so long. How wrong I was.”

“No, not really.”

Four preferences

Smile or eyes? 

“I could get lost in someone’s eyes.”

“A little bit of both.”

“Yeah, a little bit of both for me as well.”

Short or taller? 

“I’m fairly tall myself. I can’t really see myself with a man shorter than me.”

“Everyone is taller than me, so I don’t really have a say in choice.”

“Doesn’t really matter.”

Intelligence or attraction? 

“I’ve met some handsome men with nothing between the ears, and it’s rare to find someone with both. Rare, but not impossible.”

“Intelligent. When life takes a hard turn, you need to know how to pick yourself back up.”

“A good brain and a pretty face is a great combination. That’s how my wife was.”

Hook up or relationship? 

“I’ve had my fair share of hook ups, and I still do. One day I’ll settle with the man I’m meant to be with.”

“I’m guilty of bed hopping too. As much as I’d like to have a relationship, I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Ryan bit his lip, looking sheepish. “Man has his needs, you know. Can’t deny a good time when you have no release. Right now I’m not even thinking of another relationship.”

Six choices

Love or lust? 

“Why not both?”

“Love. Lust is just temporary.”

“I will always choose love, but I have moments of lust too.”

Lemonade or iced tea? 

“Lemonade is pretty tasty.”

“I have no idea what iced tea is, so lemonade.”

“What is iced tea?”

Cats or dogs?

“Dogs.”

“I’m allergic to cats.”

“I had both in my household growing up, so I’m not biased.”

A few best friends or regular friends? 

“Best friends. I put too much trust in some ‘regular’ friends and nearly lost my life because of it.”

“The close friends are the ones you can count on.”

“Definitely a few best friends. The world is too cut-throat to trust too many people.”

Wild night out or romantic nights in? 

“I love to go out and have some fun! I never did have a romantic night in though, I guess that’s something I’ll have to look forward to.”

“I’m ain’t much of a sap. I’ll gladly jump on my horse and go crazy for the night.”

“A romantic night in...I miss those.”

Day or night? 

“I’ve always been a night owl.”

“I thrive in the sun.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

Four have you Evers

Been caught sneaking out? 

“A few times. I swear my mother has a sixth sense.”

“Nope, never.”

Ryan had to laugh. “Well... with a family full of psychics, kinda hard to go anywhere without someone knowing.”

Fallen down/ up the stairs? 

“You’d think as a dancer I’d be more graceful on my feet.”

“I mean, who hasn’t?”

“Honestly though, I’m pretty sure we’ve all done it.”

Wanted someone / something so badly it hurt? 

“My father, my sister...”

“So much, I wanted my parents back. My son back.”

“My wife, is that even a question?”

Wanted to disappear? 

Misty giggles slightly. “Out of embarrassment, yes.”

“More times than I care to admit...”

“No. As a father I can’t.”

Friends

Do you secretly hate one of your friends? 

“Wow, no.”

“Fuck no. The hell kinda question is that?”

“All of my friends are wonderful. I can’t hate any of them.”

Do you consider all of your friends as good friends? 

“They gave me a home when I had nowhere else to go, so yes.”

“They’re ride or die for life.”

“They let me come and go as I please since I have to be around for my son, and they don’t give me a hard time about it. They’re definitely good friends.”

Who is your best friend? 

“You’re making me choose?”

“My horses.” Michelle laughs. “They don’t talk back!”

“My wife was.”

Who knows everything about you? 

Misty ponders for a moment. “Honestly, no one.”

“My ex did.”

“My wife.”

Do you and your family get along? 

“My mother and I had our normal spats, but we’ve always been good with one another.”

“My sisters and I have had our fights when we were younger, but we had to grow up real quick when we became orphans. Hadn’t had an argument in years.”

“For the most part. My parents didn’t like it when I chose to marry a Japanese immigrant instead of one of the many eligible women in Saint Denis, but they lightened up over time.”

Would you say you’ve messed up in life? 

“I suppose so... when I decided to run with some undesirable people instead of conforming to society.”

“I’ve made some poor decisions when I was younger.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never regretted any choices I’ve made.”

Have you ever ran away from home? 

“I was kidnapped.”

“No, never.”

“To go and marry the love of my life, yes.”

Have you ever got kicked out? 

“Nah.”

“Nope.”

“Thankfully no.”

[saint-patrice]

Can you do the picture thing with pasta?

i can indeed my friend! 😎 i love our czech noodle boy with all my heart, so let’s get this show on the road:

see here for other posts like this one! i am also taking requests for ‘em :)

i’m putting this photo first because i found it to be personally and deeply transformative. i have always adored pastrnak, but was on the fence for a while as to whether i also found him physically attractive. this picture give me an aggressive shove off of said fence, and i then proceeded to land in a pile of my own feelings for this man. not that he even needs it in the first place, but that shirt is doing miraculous things

🎶 walk, walk fashion baby, work it move that bitch crazy🎶 despite his teammates’ best efforts to take the piss out of him for it, pasta really is our resident fashion icon, and i love that. this suit is stunning, and i’m usually iffy about suits w sneakers, but it actually looks rather lovely on this occasion. i now feel inspired to go find a pair of renaissance-looking floral trousers of my very own

joyous!! a beautiful ray of sunshine!!!! we are so lucky to have him, i really really love the energy and ~vibe~ he seems to bring to the team. my sample size of one (me) perhaps makes my findings unreliable, but i do believe that it is scientfically impossible to not smile when looking at pasta smiling

i go completely apeshit every time i see pastrnak’s tattoo - it’s absolutely gorgeous. if i remember correctly (please holler at me if i’m wrong), a lot of it is in memory of his father too, which is really nice. pasta is an amazing player in his own right, but when you hear about his childhood and what he had to work through, i think it makes you appreciate what he’s managed to achieve - especially at such a young age - all that much more. we’re proud of you pasta!!

noodle man says gay rights. fuck yeah!

is there a shortage of snacks in the nhl?? why does everyone feel the need to munch on their equipment??? i’m so confused. whatever the case, this is hella cute, and makes me smile like an utter fool 

oh no, there he goes :(

sometimes i’m having a bad day and then i remember this picture exists and you know what? smiles is better. pasta would make a good life coach. it will not solve your problems, but sometimes just putting on a smile can make them seem a bit easier. anon i’m so sorry, you probably just wanted a lighthearted photo post but here we are, getting very philosophical. blame pasta. tl;dr, smiles is better and david pastrnak is amazing

what locker room shenanigans are these boys getting up to? and do i even want to know? this post was a blessing from the bruins instagram tbh. also uhhh boy’s got some fuckin legs jesus h christ 👀 watch where you’re putting those things

oh my god!!!! who let him look this good holy shit. i think navy might be pasta’s colour, and i can totally get on board with the navy/coral combo too. absolute style king, through and through

this is, i think, my absolute favourite pasta lewk. it’s fairly simple, but i love the colour scheme (see my above point), and the matching waistcoat + jacket really make it. i am also smitten with those shoes for some reason. plus i think the headband is literally just so good???? like hell yes, i am very much here for all of pasta’s hair accessorising 

something in me feels like pasta frequently gets in mild trouble with the bruins pr team because he is just slightly chaotic. case and point: mr pastrnak just distributing gatorade thingys to the audience at the all star skills event lmaoooo i love him

the grey shirt is back - be still my beating heart. oh lord. he looks so fucking good. i cannot stop looking at this

okay so pasta literally scores the dirtiest, sexiest goals i’ve ever seen. do yourself a favour and look up some compilations on youtube. thank me later, because every single one of them is fucking delightful, with the occasional one honestly getting me a bit hot and bothered 

i wouldn’t put it past him to just walk into td garden on a tuesday in april with this getup 

this is a strong candidate for my favourite social media interaction ever. “hey spaghetti man” is such a strong opener and i think it gave me whiplash, but nothing can be as iconic as “it calls style in europe”. sometimes that’s my response when my friend gives me a look for wearing an outlandish shirt or loud pants - they have no idea what i’m actually referencing, and also we live in europe, so they usually just try to ignore it. this is also a good photo in general, pasta looks v cute. i can only assume those jorts (let’s call them as they are, folks) were intact when he bought them but his legs, as we can see, are so powerful that they broke free 🤷🏻‍♀️

i mean this is like,, very sexy of him to look like that and that’s all i think i can safely say about this gif, at least on this new pg website tumblr has tried to create…

i reblogged this with the tag #oh…….worm? and i stand by that. like, sir?? hello??? do you have any idea what you’re doing to me???? i just cannot catch a break from this man’s sheer beauty 

(gif via @gaudreau) oh my god i actually love him - he really is our little ray of sunshine 💖 i don’t even know what tf he’s doing but he’s so cute so it does not matter. this also reminds me of that one clip of him doing the macarena in front of a green screen while wearing his skates for some media thing

this is like the only goddamn gif i could find of it but pasta passing the empty net goal to bergy during his 1000th game is one of the sweetest things i’ve ever seen anyone do on the ice???? it was just a little gesture but i think it’s a testament to the team dynamic, as well at the type of person pasta is (ie lovely). sometimes i tear up thinking about this game if truth be told (yes i’m a baby leave me alone)

i know i said i liked the blue suit the Most but this is a close second,, that is such a crisp fit he looks so mf good mmmmmmmm . also what a lovable buffoon 

handsome man alert !!!! this is not a very good picture to demonstrate the fact, but pasta has really nice eyes like i’m legitimately jealous >:(

(gif via @formulaice7) a better man would have been able to pick just one of these to include, but better men are off doing something far more productive than this, so you are stuck with me, who is chronically indecisive. but i saw these gifs and my only reaction was “oh fuck” and i do believe that is appropriate. maybe it’s just my weird opinion, but one thing sexier than shirtless? almost shirtless. (but i mean there’s plenty of fully shirtless pasta out there if u want it) the hand hanging on that hook is also kinda getting to me. he is just very beautiful

sometimes i wonder why the majority of the nhl has no personality and then i remember - david pastrnak is literally hoarding it all…!

lads, it’s official: this is the only photo i need to look at for the rest of my life. if this is not the energy you are bringing, i don’t want to fw you

and here ends my very first david pastrnak lovepost - thank you for the request anon, i hope you enjoy!!! :) i love pasta with all my little heart so i really loved doing this one and in all honesty could probably be talked into doing another one pretty easily if anyone is interested, bc there’s a lot of photos and gifs i didn’t use (i don’t want to make these like 50 photos long yknow). as mentioned at the top of the post, feel free to send me any requests you may have!!

[misssophiachase]

Love Me Like You Do

I stumbled upon a video of the TVD cast at Paley Fest in 2012 which inspired me to write this. Thanks to Candice for the inspiration! This is my take on part of the episode “The Murder of One” (3x18) which is actually one of my fave eps.

Caroline looked up at the foreboding Mikaelson mansion. She hadn’t been here since that night. The night she went to the ball at his invitation, gifted her a gorgeous dress and sketched her that picture. The one that was now firmly emblazoned on her brain. She felt slightly dizzy as the image filled her mind but decided to blame it on her lack of blood intake that day. 

She was here to do a job and had every intention of succeeding even if it meant she had to see Klaus again.  She thought back to their strategy session in the woods earlier that day. 

“Why do I have to be Klaus bait?” She huffed. 

“Because he’s obsessed with you,” Damon countered. He actually had a point but Caroline didn’t feel the need to agree with the arrogant Salvatore and just rolled her eyes by way of response. 

This tactic was getting really old for Caroline. Not just because she had to put up with the Original Hybrid and his attempts at wooing her with romantic drawings and gifts but because for once she wanted to be the one in the middle of the action. Yes, out of character some would say, but if it meant unlinking Tyler from his freaky sire bond with Klaus then she was more than willing to help. 

“Can I help you?” She turned to see Rebekah, arms folded across her chest on the front doorstep.  Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes, if they’d given her the white oak stake then this could have been done by now. 

“I’m here to see Klaus.”

“Is it April Fools Day or something?” She chuckled wickedly. “Last time I checked you only use my brother when you want gifts. What exactly do you want now?”

“He chose to give them to me, Rebekah,” she growled, remembering why she hated the spoilt, blonde Original. “But there’s something I need to speak with him about.”

“Well, you’re going to have to get through me first,” she insisted, flicking her hair over her shoulder impatiently. 

“Funny,” she murmured, moving a little closer. “I thought you’d be too busy plotting revenge on Damon.”

“Damon?”

“I know if a guy ignored me like that after sex, I’d be pretty pissed,” she offered, noticing the once confident Original’s expression change instantly. 

“You know about that?”

“He’s telling everyone and between you and me...” before she could finish her sentence Rebekah was gone in a vamp speed haze leaving the front entrance clear. She couldn’t help but smile given she’d moved along their plan and that Damon was probably going to get his ass kicked. Given his earlier comments and, personality in general, she wasn’t quite unhappy about that. 

She looked at the door ominously, knowing she had to go in and begin mission distraction. After all her previous practice, Caroline wasn’t too concerned about her talents. 

“Klaus?” She called out, noticing the house was relatively dark and quiet compared with the night of the ball. “Klaus?”

Still nothing. She walked through the rooms half expecting Kol to jump out and offer some attempt at a witty joke or Elijah to give her a stern lecture about trespassing. 

She entered what looked like the study, plush furnishing with a fire crackling away in the corner. What caught her eye though was the artwork sitting atop the mantle. The likeness in that blue dress was breathtaking and she thought his horse sketch was impressive. 

“I never took you for the break and enter type, love,” a familiar voice offered. She tore her eyes from the painting and to its source seated on one of the chesterfield lounges while hunched over a laptop.

“Number one, I didn’t do any breaking of the sort and, number two, it’s not my fault Rebekah doesn’t understand the basic concept of hospitality.”

“I’ll agree, it’s probably not her best trait,” he noted, his crimson lips curving into a sly smile as he finally looked up from the computer screen. “So then, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Caroline froze momentarily, deciding to blame it on the stray dimple he decided to flash in her direction, no doubt on purpose. 

“I was, uh, bored.”

“And here I hoped you were going to thank me for that sketch,” he murmured, his gaze now falling back onto the lit up screen. “So, they asked you to distract me again? You need to tell the Salvatore brothers that tactic is getting a little old.” Caroline couldn’t have said it better herself. 

She heard a ding from his computer, followed by another his face concentrating on whatever he was doing. “You do know it’s rude to ignore a guest?”

“Says the blonde distraction,” he smirked, still not bothering to look at her. Bastard. 

“What exactly are you doing?” 

“I’m networking.”

“Online? I’m impressed that the thousand year-old knows how to communicate in more modern ways.” She said, making her way to the couch so she could satisfy her curiosity. Usually his attention was firmly focused on her and for some reason it bothered her that it wasn’t right now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, lowering the screen defensively. A number of beeps sounding out again. 

“Are you on match dot com by chance,” she surmised, that particular noise sounding familiar. 

“I’m on no such thing,” he growled. His denial told Caroline that was exactly what he was doing. She was shocked to say the least, especially given he was supposed to be obsessed with her and not some randoms on a website.

“Yes, you are,” she argued, manoeuvring herself onto the couch quickly and stealing his computer in the meantime. 

“And how exactly do you know that anyway? Already bored with Tyler?” Caroline scowled by way of response. Of course he had to bring up Tyler. She decided it was best to just steer clear of that conversation given how jealous he usually got.  

“Who knew the ‘most powerful creature on earth’ needed dating assistance.”

“Thanks for the compliment, sweetheart,” he teased, still avoiding the subject.

“Didn’t you notice I used air quotes?” She scoffed before perusing his profile onscreen. His picture was on point but that was no surprise given just how handsome Klaus was, even though Caroline would never admit that to him. “What the hell kind of profile is this, Mikaelson?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He asked defensively. “I’ll have you know I worked on that for a good couple of hours.”

“It says your hobbies are wreaking havoc and committing mass murder,” she squeaked.

“Well, it’s the truth.” She didn’t reply just kept scanning it in disbelief.

“Your listed likes are general suffering, AB Negative and cemeteries after dark.”

“You forgot to mention blondes with blue eyes,” he gestured to the screen proudly. They were now sitting rather close, his thigh rubbing up against hers. “Look, so many people lie on these things, at least I’m being honest.”

“Dislikes,” she read, unable to stop. “General happiness, unicorns, sunshine and rainbows.”      

“Oh come on, tell me I’m wrong,” he drawled. “Plus, look how many hits and messages I’ve received.”

“Sophie from Indiana,” she muttered, looking at the picture. She was mildly attractive and mildly normal from her picture until further investigation. “Woah, she likes whips, chains and bondage. Seriously, Klaus?”

“I wouldn’t rule anything out.”

“Who are you, Christian Grey?” She asked, referring to the leading character in the Fifty Shades trilogy. 

“He wishes,” Klaus muttered. Caroline was surprised he even knew what she was talking about. For some reason this news didn’t sit well with her at all. How could he possibly like her when he supposedly wanted these women? 

“So, what you’re telling me is that you like girls like this?” She asked pointing to Lisa from Pittsburgh, dressed skimpily in head-to-toe black with heavy make-up and multiple piercings. 

“I might,” he stuttered. She could tell by the slight blush he was becoming decidedly uncomfortable. “Why do you even care, Caroline?”

“I just thought you had better taste,” she uttered, her eyes flickering again to the portrait he’d drawn of her. 

“I do,” he answered simply, placing his finger under her chin softly and turning her gaze back to his dark, blue orbs. “Unfortunately girls like that don’t go for men like me.” She could sense the raw vulnerability in his voice and that teamed with his touch was messing with her composure. 

“Well, with that profile what do you expect,” she mumbled. When she came over here it was to distract Klaus, not the other way around. “I can just imagine some innocent girl taking a liking to that and telling her mother she met this guy who likes to murder people but other than that, he’s a real charmer.” 

She could actually see that conversation playing out with Liz, believe it or not, but decided to put that particular scenario at the back of her mind. “So, what do you suggest, love?”

He had leaned forward now, his chest mere inches from hers and those tantalising lips just waiting to be kissed from such close proximity. “Uh, I suggest,” she stammered, standing up so fast and taking him by surprise. “A new and improved profile.”

“You’d help me?” 

“I feel it’s my responsibility, not just to you but all the poor unsuspecting girls out there.”

“And funnily enough it’s the perfect way to distract me too.” 

“Maybe.” She said without thinking. If he was going to be honest the least she could do was be the same. Surely her friends had this under control given they didn’t need her help in the first place.  

“Well, let’s get started then, love.”  

On FF HERE

[swelldomains]

What`s Hot in Digital Marketing - April

From April Fool's Day campaigns to Easter-themed tweets, there was lots to speak about in April. As digital online marketers, it was wonderful to see brand names locate brand-new means to connect as well as involve with customers, which was the major emphasis of April as opposed to previous months where brand-new feature updates and copycat plans took the spotlight. We take a look at what obtained us talking in April ...

From Easter Eggs to Twitter Eggs

April provided services a great chance to send solid Easter campaigns prepared to catch the client's eye and also send them coming in store or online to discover more. We rounded up our top Easter advertising and marketing campaigns of 2017, which included choctails, mobile-only video games as well as wonderful online compensations. Do not fret, we listened to all concerning the Cadbury/ National Count on Easter debacle, and we have actually placed our tuppence-worth in our blog site too!

Easter wasn't the only egg-y subject on our digital radar. You guessed it! Twitter's dropped the egg! In an attempt to stop association with anonymous trolls, Twitter's altered the egg for a "gender-balanced" head for those who do not decide to post an account picture. The factor is to motivate those that haven't had possibility to customise their account to do so much more swiftly. Will this stop the trolls? Perhaps not, however it could make them less complicated to recognize. That appears to be the goal, anyway.

What does this mean for electronic marketers?

Utilising possibilities to connect a brand name with such a big occasion is a should for a lot of digital marketing professionals. At Extreme we functioned hard on various Easter advocate our clients, including running some wonderful competitors for Nisa in collaboration with Cadbury so we know ourselves just how vital staying in addition to the events schedule is!

In regards to the Twitter egg, we're not exactly sure what difference the new default profile photo is really mosting likely to make (besides looking a little better compared to an egg visuals). It's absolutely intriguing to see Twitter respond to user responses and also proactively try to find services to identify and inhibit online abuse from giants. We'll offer that a like.

Brands got foolish

April Fool's Day chopped up once more on 1st April, providing brands yet an additional possibility to establish creative campaigns to capture the customer's eye.

Coca-Cola announced it was adding helium to a new range of drink, giffgaff released broken display balm and the Royal Mint introduced it was developing a new 99p coin.

We're likewise particular followers of Brian the Rail Canine ...

https:// twitter.com/BrianTheRailDog/status/848211317202857984

Poor old Brian could not have got the Twitter focus he possibly deserved, yet we're still like him anyway.

What does this mean for digital marketers?

Though much of the projects ran in published magazines, a lot of the conversation around the finest April Fool's projects took place on social networks. From a service perspective, this opened up the chance to offer a fun, light-hearted side to the brand name. Getting in touch with consumers without pressing a service or product frequently leads to a much more devoted following, and it was terrific to see numerous brand names not wanting to lose out on that particular chance.

But Facebook got serious

Facebook's been attempting to work with journalists and also mainstream magazines extra successfully for a while currently, as well as now one of several features and also applications has been released. Call-to-action buttons on Immediate Articles offers customers the opportunity to join to the publisher's e-newsletter or Facebook web page, thus highlighting them as a reliable source.

This most recent upgrade could perhaps be a nod to Facebook's dedication to attempt as well as work much more closely with information resources as well as organisations to deal with phony news. With the UK General Election fast approaching, Facebook's under pressure to obtain a minimum of a few even more treatments in position to quit sly phony tales going viral.

What does this mean for digital marketers?

Facebook absolutely appears to be getting pally with the journos, a fascinating advancement that could suggest a shift towards Facebook becoming more of a social news-sharing platform. This is slightly inconsistent provided recent brand-new updates such as Messenger Day as well as it's not really clear which instructions Facebook's entering. Looks like Facebook's again aiming to be all things to all people (as well as hi there, we've written a blog site concerning that, as well!)

Google goes back to the attracting board

Machine learning's a fascinating subject, and for those fledgling Picassos around Google's brand-new Car Draw app might be the best digital update of the month. Whether you're a Monet or keep it basic with stick-men, Google will help turn your doodles right into pictures.

Users can have a look at the attribute on mobile or desktop, and it's feasible to download and install or share pictures so you don't need to say goodbye to your most recent masterpiece.

What does this mean for digital marketers?

It's a brand-new development for artificial intelligence, and also a cool new feature for individuals, as well as from a digital advertising and marketing perspective it's always interesting to maintain an eye on just what Google's up to! We're absolutely enjoying this room for other brand-new functions and apps.

Instagram offers Snapchat one more Direct hit

Of training course, it wouldn't be a round-up of digital news without a copycat tale upgrade! This time Instagram's releasing a brand-new version of Direct, which is incredibly much like Snapchat. With the blue video camera symbol now in three different places, there's really no justification not to develop some outstanding content as well as individuals will no question like the new updates.

The slight copycat nature of Instagram has undoubtedly assist to increase use of the app. Whether you like the brand-new (sorta) attributes or not, Instagram Stories is currently used by over 200 million individuals each day - higher customer rates compared to Snapchat. Not only that, however Instagram Stories is including around 50 million everyday individuals every 3 months so use the feature is revealing no indicator of declining.

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What does this mean for digital marketers?

Monitoring the means individuals communicate with apps is unbelievably essential when it pertains to establishing social techniques. We think brands could start placing more of a concentrate on Instagram and maybe avoiding huge Snapchat advocate now, though undoubtedly Snapchat is waiting in the wings with another ground-breaking feature that'll take our breath away. Go on, Snapchat, please?

We've been truly curious about monitoring this month's mix of digital updates and brand projects - as well as dealing with our very own, certainly! If you wish to come down and also digital with us, get in touch!

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[utrechtcentral]

 Ingmar Heytze Utrecht Poet

Ingmar Heytze  is a poet, writer, columnist, performer and presenter. His twelfth collection of poems: Ik wilde je iets moois vertellen (I wanted to tell you something beautiful), appeared in October 2018. As a columnist he worked for, among others, magazines Onze Taal, Kijk and newspapers  de Volkskrant and AD Utrechts Nieuwsblad. He has performed as a poet and sometimes as musician at festivals such as Lowlands, and the reprise of Poetry in Carré in 2006 and last years de Nacht van de Poëzie (The Night of Poetry) which is an annual Utrecht poetry festival for over 2000 visitors, for which he has also provided programming and co-presentation for several years. In 2000, Ingmar Heytze was hired by museum director Sjarel Ex to work as 'huisfilosoof' ('house philosopher', comparable to the position of 'company's fool') at the Central Museum in Utrecht for nine months. From 2009 to 2011 he was the first official City poet of Utrecht. In 2008 he received the C.C.S. Crone Award for his entire oeuvre and in 2016 the Maartenspenning (The Medal of Martin, the Patron Saint of Utrecht) of the city of Utrecht. Voor de liefste onbekende (To the dearest unknown) the collected poems 1985-2015, appeared in the spring of 2016. The second edition of Utrecht voor beginners en gevorderden (Utrecht for beginners and the advanced), his collected poems about Utrecht from the same period, appeared in 2017. Ingmar Heytze currently is the highest recorded living author in the Utrecht Literary Canon as presented by Het Literatuurhuis. Did you study creative writing? No, I don't think there was something like that available in Holland when I started writing poetry at age of fifteen (1985) or when it was time to choose an academic education in 1988. I studied Algemene Letteren (Humanities/Communication Science) instead. I have taught Poetry for about ten years at the HKU though. I wish something like their 'Creative Writing/Writing for performance' education had been available in my college years. Do you have heroes or is your work unique? I like to think have so many heroes in so many places, all those influences make my own work unique, because there is no chance anyone else should have exactly the same heroes, nor is influenced by their work in the same order or amount. Which of your collections is your favourite? That's an easy one. The collection Ik wilde je iets moois vertellen (I wanted to tell you something beautiful), contains almost all my poetry from the past 30 years. Are they translated into English? Some of them have been translated in the past. Actually, my publisher is trying to go international with a selection of my poetry. Don't know if it ever will happen though, but I would embrace the opportunity. Are you working on a new collection? Right know I'm trying to get my head around two books, due for April: a non-fiction book about artist Wim T. Schippers, one of Holland's most famous artists, which is a co-project with Vrouwkje Tuinman, also a writer and poet living in Utrecht, she also does a lot of prose and poetry readings in England and Germany. Then there is Game of poems, a book in collaboration with poets Ellen Deckwitz and Thomas Möhlmann, containing a poem about every episode of Game of Thrones. Then I will finish with a book about guitars and why men of a certain age are so attracted to collecting them, the book will be called Gitaartoerisme. After that, we'll see what happens. I think it will be quite a while before I release a new volume of poetry. I see you use music in your performances, is that an important part of them? To me it is. Although I love to perform just reading poetry, and most of my performances are like that, working with musicians is so much fun and like most poets, I would rather have been a musician. Is Utrecht a particularly poetic city? Well, it's certainly old and beautiful enough for any writer, poet and thinker to feel at home. Having a university certainly helps. What piece of work(s) are you most proud of? I usually don't take the time to sit around being proud of anything, but I have been a father for almost six years now, and I'm still alive. I'm kind of proud of that. Does Utrecht inspire you as a person? Maybe in the way most cities inspire most people: half the time you're thinking of leaving, but you never do. The things that keep me around apparently are inspiring enough. Where is your favourite place in Utrecht? On a clear day, you should try to get to the roof of the Springhaver Parking at sunset. It's got a wonderful view on the old and the new city. Also, you can't see the parking itself when you stand on top of it, which is good, because it's hideous. Be friendly the guards who come checking on you, though. They are cool, but they WILL kick you out if they don't trust you. What would be a perfect day in Utrecht for you? Any day I can write good new stuff on my laptop and play poor stuff on my guitar. Does Utrecht do enough for creative arts? Yeah, they do OK. There is always room for improvement though, there is a bit too much focus on the big events and organisations who draw the attention away from the smaller artists on the rise, who could use some help. Still, I'm quite happy with how things are here. Utrecht is being run WAY better that our country as a whole. Would you like to see more activities? I think we're kind of set on the amount of concerts, plays an performances we can visit, and that's great. I would rather see some more support on working artists, especially in the fine arts, but also in popular music (Kytopia and such). I Also think Utrecht needs a permanent Writer's Residence in the heart of the city, suited for international guests.   Read the full article

[tailsbeth-writes]

Always the Sidekick - Prose

I wrote this piece for a genre fiction class at university, it’s a romantic short story. It’s one of the few stories I’m actually quite happy with and might even consider continuing.

Word Count: 2609.

The park had well and truly taken autumn in. Across the wet grass, lay leaves in shades of brown and yellow. The smell of pumpkin spice lattes was in the air, it really was the best time of year. Today my wellington boots had been taken on their first outing; their traditional green didn’t particularly coordinate with my red rain mac. However, I could not care less as my appearance was not my speciality. With my mousy brown hair complete with blunt fringe to my milk bottle glasses, I was not what you’d call typically attractive. I was content with my lot though, as long as I could get to my favourite bench with a notebook and pen, I was happy.

It was the best spot for people watching, it was right in the middle of the park. To your left was a large pond where children would attempt to feed swans and nearly kill them and to your right were the multi-courts where men would make fools of themselves on a daily basis in an attempt to woo the opposite sex, usually with dire results. I sat there for my lunch hour and marvelled at the awesomeness of humanity before my best friend Jenny arrived. I love her to pieces but thanks to her gorgeous good looks, my favourite bench became the viewpoint of frenzy for the sporting lads. She walked up in high heeled boots, a black tulip skirt which extenuated her curves precisely and a white chiffon blouse that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The cherry on top of it all was her blonde wavy hair which bounced lightly with every step.

‘April darling, how are we today?’ I loved the way Jenny spoke, so silly yet sophisticated.

‘I’m pretty excellent, how are you?’

‘So tired, rushed off my feet as usual. Glad to get a break.’

‘I just don’t know how you manage it, I wouldn’t dream of such a busy job.’

‘Well, April my dear, not all of us are content with spending our days in a library.’ Despite Jenny and I being the same age, she’s always spoke down to me a little. I never cared what she said about my job though, I loved it. Her job sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, she worked at a law firm which meant she was always busy and always had to look her best. ‘It’s all about reputation’ Jenny told me time and time again. Whereas at my work, I spent hours sorting out books full of magic and romance, I wore whatever I pleased and I got a full hour for lunch. With those stats, I’d never see the appeal of Jenny’s job.

‘What’s for lunch today then?’ Jenny enquired as usual, looking for the plastic lunchbox.

‘Roast chicken sandwich, last night’s leftovers.’ I handed it over to a starved Jenny.

‘Oh you treat me so well April!’ She declared before she took a huge bite out of the sandwich. From the size of her waist, you’d never guess Jenny had a massive appetite.

‘Are we still doing dinner tomorrow night?’ She asked between bites. Fridays were probably my favourite day. I had a half day at work, I’d pick up sushi as a treat on the way home and then I’d settle down to a good book or a Netflix marathon for the afternoon. The nights were usually planned by Jenny, with her job she managed to blag us theatre ticket most weeks. However, this dinner wasn’t one of our usual Friday nights. It was a set-up, a casual reminder that I was still single and apparently needed to find a boyfriend.

‘Was that tomorrow night? I forgot about that. I might actually be working.’

‘You’re kidding me right? Remember tick tock, you’re not getting any younger pumpkin.’

‘Thanks for that gentle reminder Jen, you aren’t ei-‘

‘April Louise Hollander, you are going to eat dinner with me and some lovely male company whether you like it or not! Trust me; I’m doing it for your own good. Also it’s a work thing, you’d be the bestest for coming.’ I knew there would be some form of blackmail; I was always the sidekick to her little plans.

‘As I’ve told you time and time ag-‘

‘April, just be there.’ She interrupts again. I’ve not paid much attention but she’s finished her sandwich and brushed off the crumbs. I didn’t even bother trying to reply this time.

‘I better get back to the office; they’ll be lost without me. Remember 7 o’clock tomorrow at that fancy Italian place, wear something nice. Ciao darling!’ And with that she marched off on her heels, already screaming orders down the phone.  I had been looking forward to Friday, I was going to marathon Breaking Bad. Now I’d spend the afternoon trolling my wardrobe. Help.

Friday mornings at the library were always fun. A couple of classes from the local primary school would come in and if there wasn’t much work to do I got to help out with the kids. They reminded me of myself at that age, always raring to start a new book. I brought out a table full of new books and they cheered as they scrambled to find the best choice. Their adorable little smiles were enough to make my day. On the other hand, on my bus home I saw a bunch of students glued to their phones and tablets. I understood you could read books on those too but the majority of them were playing addictive games or swiping through possible mates like baboons. What happens to us as we grow up? Does the world of fiction lose its appeal to jabbing away at a piece of plastic and metal? I got off my usual stop and walked a few metres down the road to pick up my Japanese feast of sushi and bubble tea.

My flat was in the building next door, on the third floor. It was small and cosy, ideal for me and my pet fish Oscar, named after Mr Wilde of course. Normally I’d have got straight into my pyjamas, unluckily I had to choose a suitable outfit for Jenny’s high standards. Queue a clichéd montage of chucking clothes around my bedroom. Fashion was never my thing; I was about comfort and practicality not designer labels. I reckoned simple and elegant-ish was my best bet. As I turned to the mirror, I imagined an eagle-eyed Jenny staring back at me.

‘Are you really going to wear that tonight? Why do you even own that?’

‘I don’t actually care Jenny.’

‘Well you obviously care my dear; otherwise you wouldn’t be imagining me in your mirror now, would you?’ I let a little frustrated scream out. Imaginary or not, Jenny did have a point though. I did care. I’ve seen the looks of disgust that Jenny’s colleagues give me when I turn up to a champagne party in my doc martens and no make-up. This time it was almost like a date, she’d mentioned male company. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since university, three years ago. I genuinely did want to try, while I had Hermione’s smarts, I unfortunately didn’t have Emma Watson’s good looks. Tonight was going to be different; I ran out to Primark and bought a little black dress. I braved my contact lenses and risked burning my hair with my straighteners. Make-up wasn’t my best friend, but I tried my hardest to not make it look like war paint. I, of course, made a few April-esque touches, a deathly hallows necklace and forest green brogues. It might have just been a dinner date but as I gazed in the mirror, I could have been ready for a ball.

I definitely preferred London at night time. The twinkling street lights bounced off the reflective skyscrapers that melted into the indigo sky. My taxi driver wasn’t very chatty which I was thankful for tonight. My mind was too busy buzzing with expectations to talk about the weather.  Jenny would giggle like a school girl over her carbonara at the dashing gentleman opposite her. Meanwhile I’d be enthralled in conversation with a boyishly handsome chap who happens to have a passion for Doctor Who. As I dissolved into my day dreams, I barely noticed the taxi screeching to a halt. Jenny practically pounced on me as I stumbled out the cab into the nippy air.

‘April, my darling, you’re a new woman! Where’s the milk bottles? And are you wearing make-up? I love, love, love it!’ She was grinning from ear to ear at my apparent transformation.

‘Aw, you’re very sweet.’ I felt my cheeks redden as she spoke.

‘I wish you dressed like this more often, speaking of which, where is this delight of a dress from? I never knew you owned such a thing.’

‘Primark, only a tenner actually!’ Jenny’s face dropped in repulsion, the idea of being seen dead in anything less than £50 freaked her out. Her grin returned as she took in my whole look once more.

‘Not my usual taste, but you work it.’

‘You sure I look alright? I’m way out my comfort zone here.’

‘Of course you look alright, more than alright! Do you not think you look fab?’ I had to agree with Jenny. I’d gone through my Cinderella transformation from drab to fab except my fairy godmother came in the form of Primark and YouTube tutorials. I gave her a courageous smile.

‘God damn it, I do look fab Jenny.’

‘Great, glad we can agree on that. The boys said they’re going to be a tad late unfortunately so we’ve just to head inside.’

‘Okay, after you.’ I followed Jenny’s lead. After all the commotion of my new look, I hadn’t taken in Jenny’s outfit for the night. Her hair sat in a subtle up do and a creamy fur shawl sprawled over her shoulders. Her dress was a figure hugging scarlet number, which finished just after the knees and her shoes were a classic pair of black heels. As usual, Jenny looked like an absolute bombshell. I felt rather lucky to be friends with someone so glamourous.

As soon as the restaurant door opened we caught the smell of the incredible menu. Chatter surrounded every table. The place was packed. It was a Friday night in London after all. Everything appeared to be draped in white; the tables, chairs and even the walls. Spaghetti Bolognese was off the menu for me then. We got seated straight away as we had reservations. Jenny briefed me on tonight’s mission; we had to show the representative from this company a good time essentially. He was bringing along an intern which is where I came in, I was the distraction while Jenny spoke business. Whilst this was technically work for Jenny, we agreed we were going to have a good time ourselves. Therefore the first order of the night was cocktails. Our waitress brought over two martinis and we clinked our glasses together.

‘Do you feel like you’re in Sex and the City right now?’ Jenny giggled.

‘You took the words right out my mouth.’

‘I think we could give Carrie and the girls a run for their money frankly.’ We chuckled as sophisticatedly as we could. A joint this fancy didn’t feel like it welcomed belly laughs.

‘Excuse me ladies, I do believe you’ve been waiting for us.’ We looked up from our drinks to see our delicious male company had arrived. Jenny got up to shake their hands.

‘You must be Michael? So nice to finally meet you. This is my friend April.’ Michael stretched a freshly tanned hand over to me, his chocolate coloured eyes slithering into mine. Behind him stood a tall redhead who smiled delicately at us.

‘Nice to meet you girls, this is Eric.’ Eric tottered over and shook our hands. His hands were slightly clammy, nerves were tugging at him.

‘Great to meet you both.’ I drank in his polite expression, it was very welcoming. We all took our seats, Eric sat to my left. His navy cord blazer grazed my skin as it fell on his chair.

‘What are we drinking ladies?’ Michael enquired. Every word was like silky caramel; Jenny stuck to every syllable while it was far too sickly for me.

‘Martinis, we can move onto a bottle of wine if you’d prefer.’ Jenny had to vaguely remind herself this was a professional dinner. Michael had other plans.

‘Of course no, martinis it is! Waiter!’ He glanced around and waved his hand in the air, Eric stared at his lap. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. A baffled waitress finally came over.

‘Six martinis please!’ Michael demanded.

‘Why six?’ Eric innocently asked.

‘We’ve got catching up to do! It’s Friday night after all!’

‘Christopher Eccleston’s your favourite doctor? Really?’

‘Yup!’

‘Wow, very controversial.’ I sipped my third martini, never losing grip with Eric’s bubblegum blue eyes. They made my insides feel cosy. That could have also been the alcohol. Jenny had gone to sit at the bar with Michael to have shop talk. Her legs stretched in front of the bar stool to keep Michael at a safe distance. She’d got over his caramel tones and was getting to work.

‘So how long have you known Jenny? I wouldn’t say you’re typically matched.’ I rolled my eyes at the world’s most frequently asked question.

‘Most people think the same. We’ve been inseparable since primary school, she shared her dolls with me when nobody else would. I don’t think she quite realised what she’d got into. We’ve been through semesters abroad with nothing but letters to each other and we’re still going. I know she comes across as ridiculous most of the time but that’s part of the magic of Jenny. It’s just kind of amazing that over ten years later, we still meet at a park bench every day for lunch and it’s not boring yet. God, sorry, I’m babbling now!’

‘Nah, don’t worry about it. I think you two are sweet. A bit mad but sweet.’ I looked down at my drink, my cheeks felt rosy. Sensing my awkwardness, he changed subject.

‘Do you have a favourite park bench in mind? I’m a bit of a people watching enthusiast myself.’ My mouth may have gawped open a little. It was like someone had taken my day dreams and moulded them into my perfect man.

‘Seriously? People watching is my favourite thing ever. You know Waverly Park, how the path cuts right through the middle? The bench right next to the pond and multi-courts.’

‘I don’t think I’ve been there, I’ll need to check it out sometime. If you’d let me of course.’

‘Suppose, but I’ll have to share between the hours of 12 and 1 on weekdays.’

‘Those terms are fair enough.’ His endearing gaze turned me to jelly. His movements were careful, his long fingers ever so slightly rubbed up against mine on the table. He picked up my pendant and edged a smile.

‘Harry Potter fan?’

‘Yeah. I must seem like a massive geek with this thing on.’ I mustered hesitantly.

‘Oh really?’ He smirked and got something out of his coat pocket, a wallet with the Hogwarts crest on it. I let out a slight gasp. Eric laughed lightly at my shock. He placed the tattered wallet back in his coat.

‘Massive geeks should stick together, well I think so anyway.’ He declared. Before I even realised, the space between us was gone as he kissed me gently.

‘I could not agree more.’

[letters-from-alex]

Dear Friend,

April 1, 2017

It’s April Fool’s day.  I promise you I won’t be telling you any jokes in this letter.  Instead, I promise you that it will be a handful of truths that you wish were a joke, or maybe just a story that I’ve made up.  Unfortunately, my life doesn’t work that way.  It’s been a mess ever since he left me.  I don’t think I’ve ever told you his name - nickname at least. I call him Voldemort.  Why, you ask? Well, there was this time in my life - about a year ago - he left to another city up north in Texas called Austin.  He didn’t tell anyone bye.  Not even me.  I didn’t know I was an “anyone” to him.  I thought I was at least a “someone.” I guess I was mistaken.  He left without notice.  It caught me off guard when he did.  I sent him so many texts.  I never got a reply.  This was going on for over five months.  Text after text after text AFTER text, I kept giving in!  Why do I give in? You would think that after a month of not replying I’d get the hint.  I did get the hint, I just didn’t want to give up on him.  He was such a dear friend to me.  I couldn’t just pretend that he didn’t exist even though he was doing just that to me. 

As the months went on, it got harder and harder for me to think about him.  Every day, I’d hear his name, see his face, or hear his voice in my head.  It was so difficult.  It got to the point that I hated hearing his name so much that when I’d talk about him to my friends I’d call him Voldemort.  “Voldemort? Who’s Voldemort? Like from Harry Potter?” my friends would question.  “Yes. Voldemort! That’s what I’m going to call him from now on because I hate hearing his name. He’s my version of JK Rowling’s ‘He Who Must Not Be Named.’” So, that’s how he got his nickname.  It’s quite funny though how history decides to repeat itself.  On January 15, 2017, I sent you a letter telling you about the last time I saw him.  Referring to that - I still haven’t seen him since then.  In the past three months, he has only sent me one text message.  It’s happening all over again.  And this time I feel like I have lost him for good.  When he did this to me last year, I was so worried for him.  I was constantly thinking about him and his health and his well-being.  I was always wondering what he was doing.  And most of all, I always wondered if he was happy.  Now, it’s different.  Now, he’s not over three hundred miles away from me.  In fact, he’s less than two miles away from me.  I haven’t seen him in months.  I haven’t talked to him in months.  I still worry about him.  I still want to know if he’s healthy.  I still constantly think about him. And I still wonder what he’s doing, He doesn’t know this, mostly because it’s a little creepy, but I do take a drive by his house every once in a while. I got a new car, so he doesn’t know what I’ve been driving. I always go with the hopes of running into him while he’s outside. All I want to do is see his face. Is that too much to ask for? There wasn’t many differences between the first time he pretended I didn’t exist and the time that I’m going through now.  The one main difference between then and now, is that I know he’s happy. He’s happy…  He doesn’t need me anymore.  He’s with the girl of his dreams and I’m just figuratively watching him from the sidelines. I’m watching him be happy with someone else.  He just used me.  I was just a distraction until she came back into his life.  He ran faster to her than he would’ve ever run to me.  I love him, but he loves her.  He’s my soul mate, but I’m not his.  I hate hearing his name again.  I hate seeing his blue car when it’s not even his.  I hate going to places where we shared the most memories.  I just hate thinking about him so much because I know he’s not thinking of me. I wish I was more prepared for this. I’m going through the exact same thing as last year, so why does it feel worse than better? Is it because I want to believe that he was starting to fall for me? Maybe. Is it because I know he was happy with me too? He was. Is it because he broke the walls around my heart down? Definitely.  We started doing so many things together.  He started to make me come out of my shell - as did I with him.  I saw the look in his eyes when he looked at me.  I heard the tone of his voice when he told me he really liked me.  And I heard the sarcasm every time he told me “I hate you.”  He didn’t mean that.  Maybe he was secretly telling me “I love you,” but he was just too afraid to say it.  It’s sad… because I can’t begin to understand what he goes through on a daily basis.  I don’t know what it’s like to be in love with a guy when you can’t even admit to yourself.  I can’t begin to understand what he goes through when someone would ask him who I was.  Was I “just a friend?” What if they questioned him why we would hang out so much.  How would I handle that if I was in his shoes? I want to believe that he was falling in love with me, because it would be the only reasonable explanation as to why he won’t talk to me.  He got scared.  I get it.  His family doesn’t know about his attraction toward men.  I get it.  What I don’t get is why he would go back to her? From what I can recall, in my opinion, she makes him feel so insecure about himself.  She tells him things like: He’s a bad influence. He’s making you do things - drink and other things that happen behind closed, locked doors.  He’s not a good person.  You’re better than that.  That’s not like you.  You don’t do those things.  Why does she have to degrade me like that? And to her own boyfriend too. I honestly feel like she makes him feel ashamed of himself.  I hope he doesn’t listen to her.  I hope he knows that it’s okay to be gay.  I hope he knows that it’s okay to be in love with a guy.  Especially someone that would treat him right for the rest of his life. He’s too beautiful, inside and out to not be treated the right way.  I remember one thing he told me when he started talking to her again and he and I were on good terms.  He was telling me that one time when she said something offensive to him, he replied with, “You know what? Sometimes you treat me like a nobody. Unlike Alex, at least he treats me like I’m a somebody.”  Hearing that brought so much joy to my ears.  It was wonderful.  If only he still stuck by that comment and chose me instead of her.  To be honest, I hope he still compares me to her a lot.  I want him to know what he’s missing.  I want him to know what he could’ve had.  True, real happiness with no judgement.  I’m not saying he’s not happy now. I’m just saying, maybe all the comments she made about him not being “him” aren’t true because she doesn’t know the real him.  Maybe he opened up to me in ways he never did with her. I feel like I met the real Voldemort. I feel like I made him feel comfortable.  He knew I wouldn’t have judged him.  I think that’s all he needs.  To be with someone who won’t judge him for what he truly is.   I want to talk to him.  I want to hear his soothing voice, especially during sad times like these. When I’m home alone on the bar writing to you, lights flickering, music playing and surrounded by darkness.  I feel so empty tonight.  I wish I knew how to fill this void without needing him. To be honest, I don’t think it will ever be filled until he comes back to me.  I’ve tried seeing other people.  I’ve tried letting someone see my vulnerable side. I’ve tried finding someone with the same taste in music, games, movies and tv shows like me. I haven’t found anyone so far. He and I had so much in common.  He’s going to be so hard to replace.  Incidentally, in my previous letter I mentioned some things that I should probably keep you updated on. I ended up talking to my Management professor after all.  She almost cried during our talk.  Her eyes got so glossy, especially after I told her that it’s been difficult for me to get out of bed.  I could tell that she understood. She gave me some advice and told me I should go see a counselor - if I wanted to of course.  She wasn’t forcing the decision upon me.  I knew she was right when she told me that it would help me a lot.  Also, my friend from Chicago left this week.  I miss her already.  We had such a good time while she was here.  We went to the beach.  We went shopping.  We ate my favorite restaurants.  I took her to her old home.  And of course we watched our favorite movies.  I had such a great time with her.  I can’t wait until I get to visit her next.  Love Always, Alex

[mollyhooperxxx]

For the "ask me questions" post: all of them. I ask all 100 of them!

oh my goodness haha! here we go then!

1. What have you eaten today? scrambled eggs for breakfast, soup for lunch and pizza for dinner!2. Who was your last kiss with? Was it pleasant? Sherlock very pleasant ;)3. What color shoes did you last wear? light blue sandals!4. Who has made you laugh the hardest in the last week? Oh definitely Sherlock and Rosie! She’s so much like her mother because it’s like she can sense when he’s being irritable and ends up throwing things at him lol!5. What is your favorite scent? how can I possible choose just one!? cherry blossom, vanilla and roses.6. What is your favorite season? Why? Autumn. It’s so lovely with the leaves changing colors and the crisp air.7. Can you do a handstand or cartwheel? Not a handstand but a cartwheel? yes!8. What color are your nails? They were pink but it’s mostly chipped off.9. If you had to get a tattoo on your face to save your life, what would it be? haha no idea! a butterfly maybe 10. What is something you find romantic? when someone chooses to remember the little details about me. Sherlock says he has a room in his mind palace especially for me. It’s very sweet. I also find his handwritten love letters romantic 11. Are you happy? Very.12. Is there anything in particular making you happy or sad? A bit of both. For the most part, I am happy with the Baker Street family as I like to call us lol and the fact Sherlock and I will be married in September. As for sad, I still miss Mary of course, her absence is felt everyday.13. Dogs or Cats? I’m more of a cat person, though dogs are lovely as well :)15. Which do you prefer:a museum, a night club, the forest or a library? Gotta say either library or museum.15. What is your style? Not sure how to describe it lol. Practical and casual for the most part, though I do love to dress up for special occasions.16. If you could be doing anything you like right now, what would it be? Hmm, that’s a tough one! I’m not really sure!17. Are you in a relationship or single? Engaged to @thesherlockholmes221b 18. What makes you attracted to the person you like right now? His good heart, brilliance and sense of humor. I love his eyes especially.19. If you could replace your partner/best friend with a celebrity of your choice, would you? Who with? Oh no, I would never replace Sherlock. He’s a bit of a celebrity himself anyways :p20. Are you holding on to something you need to let go of? If so then what? I am. Sometimes I have this fear in the back of my mind that I know is silly to have but it manages to just stick.21. How did you celebrate last Halloween? I went to Meena’s Halloween party! I dressed up as Alice from Alice In Wonderland.22. Have you recently made any big decisions? Yes! Sherlock and I have discussed starting a family of our own. Ever since becoming Rosie’s godfather, he has really warmed up to the idea of having children of his own. He said and I quote, “Molly, there is nobody else I’d want to be the mother of my children.” 23. Were you ever in a school play? A few in Uni. There was A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Sense and Sensibility and Phantom of the Opera!24. What movie would you use to describe your life? Oh gosh, ummm…Pride and Prejudice probably lol25. Is there something you have dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it? Yes but I am on the road to achieving it :)

26. Complete this sentence, “I wish I had someone with whom I could share…” If you had asked me this last year, I would’ve said ‘someone with whom I could share my life with.’ I have that now though. 27. What are two things that irritate you about the same sex? though it’s not all women, cattiness and backhanded compliments. 28. What are two things that irritate you about the opposite sex? once again, this doesn’t apply to all men but sexism towards women and catcalling ugh.29. What is the best thing that has happened to you this week? Spending the day with Rosie and beating Sherlock at Cluedo…again haha30. What is something that makes you sad when you think about it? the fact that Rosie won’t ever get the chance to know her mother.31. How long was your longest relationship? about a year with Tom but then I ended things.32. Have you ever been in love? Yes 33. Are you currently in love? Mhm, I am unconditionally in love with my fiance. 34. Why did your last relationship end? I ended things with Tom because 1.) it wasn’t fair to him and 2.) I could no longer deny that I was still in love with Sherlock.35. What jewelry are you wearing right now, and where did you get it? an anatomical heart locket that Sherlock gave me for my birthday last month.36. When was the last time you cried and why? Earlier this week because of a fight I had with Sherlock. Everything is okay now.37. Name someone pretty. Rosie. Mary. You.38. What did you receive last Valentines Day? a day of crime solving lol it was fun39. Do you get jealous easily? I used to but nowhere near as jealous as Sherlock used to get when it came to me dating other people.40. Have you ever been cheated on? Yes41. Do you trust your partner/best friend? Sherlock is both my partner and best friend. I trust him with my life and with my heart.42. Ever had detention? IT WAS ONE TIME lol43. Would you rather live in the countryside or the city? Both are lovely but the city is more practical for my career.44. What do people call you? Molly, Molls. Rosie calls me MoMo45. What was the last book you read? Stalking Jack The Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco…it’s soooo good! I read it in 3 days!46. How big of a nerd/dork are you? the biggest nerd you will ever meet. 47. What kind of music do you listen to? all different kinds. I like a bit of variety. Ed Sheeran is my favourite artist.48. How tall are you? 5′3″49. Do you like kids? of course!

50. Favorite fruits? strawberries and watermelon51. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? jeans52. What’s your earliest memory? um, goodness probably an Easter when I was 3. My dad drew out a treasure map (kinda like a pirate’s) to help me find the eggs that were hidden in the yard.53. Ever had a poem or song written about you or to you? Sherlock composed a violin piece for me titled ‘Molly.’ It was so romantic.54. Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? either. I used to be more shy but I don’t mind having photos taken now.55. Do you have a collection of anything? aside from my book collection, there is a memory box beneath my bed containing mementos from various friendships and my relationship with Sherlock. It has photos, ticket stubs, takeaway menus, etc. 56. Do you save money or spend it? Save it. Sometimes I’ll treat myself but it’s very rarely.57. What would your dream house be like? I’ve always loved the idea of a pretty cottage.58. What top 5 things make you the angriest? liars, cheaters, abusers, bullies and of course anyone who dares to threaten my friends/family.  59. What top 5 things always brings a smile to your face? Rosie, Sherlock, chocolate, helping people and science puns!60. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? I couldn’t leave that poor dog. I’d get help to try and save it.61. You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? I would tell my closest friends (John, Mrs. Hudson, Meena, Greg and Sherlock) but I wouldn’t want them to constantly fret over me. I’d just spend them with my loved ones. I think I would be at first but I’d get braver.62. Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Sherlock.63. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? hmm I think I’d enjoy Paris.64. Do you like the beach? sure!65. Ever sleep on the couch or a bed with someone special? of course. 66. Do you have a middle name? If so what is it! Elizabeth.67. Do you talk to yourself? yes haha!68. Describe your hair. um it’s long, straight and brown.69. What is the meaning of life. I’ve no idea but for me personally, just love. platonic, romantic, familial. Just caring and being compassionate and living life to the fullest because you only get one.70. What is your ideal partner like? tall, dark and brooding lol but also sweet and kindhearted.71. Do you want to get married? yes, I very much do.72. Do you want to have kids? definitely!73. Like or dislike your family? like though they are gone now. I love my little Baker Street family to pieces.74. Are you Chunky or Slim? average.

75. Would you consider yourself smart? yes.76. What would you change about your life? nothing.77. Religious or Not? a bit, yeah.78. You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with? haha Meena but that was back in Uni lol! 79. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem? not a problem at all. Sherlock needs to solve that case so I can snog him ;p80. Does anyone regularly (other than family) tell you they love you? Sherlock.81. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? The person I did wish to be with is currently with me. If he wasn’t on a case, I’d go over to his flat and probably spend some quality time together. And lots of other things ;)82. So, the last person you kissed just happens to arrive at your door at 3AM; do you let them in? of course! I miss him.83. Do you like when people play with your hair? yes, it feels lovely.84. Do you like bubble baths? every now and then.85. Have you ever been pulled over by a cop? nope. unless Lestrade counts as a April Fool’s joke.86. Have you ever danced in the rain? I have not too long ago. It was a warm night and the rain came out of nowhere while Sherlock and I were walking through the park. He waltzed with me.87. Do you trust anyone with your life? Sherlock.88. What was your first thought when you woke up this morning? I need coffee.89. If money wasn’t an issue, what top 10 places would you travel to? (You get to stay at each place for a week) Paris, Rome, Venice, Barcelona, New York, Hawaii, Greece. I don’t have 10 places lol90. How was your day today? just fine.91. Play an instrument? Piano. I dabbled in guitar.92. Describe the what you think of the ocean. Calming.93. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? I’m so getting made fun of for this but yes, both.94. Honestly, are things how you wanted them to be? aside from wishing Mary was still here with us, yes.95. Do you have a mean bitchy scary side? unfortunately but it rarely comes out.96. When are you vulnerable? when my friends and family are in danger.97. How much free time do you have? a good amount.98. Do you like to go hiking? I don’t mind it.99. Odd or Even Numbers? Even.100. Would you ever go sky diving, bungee jumping , cliff diving, wing suit gliding, parasailing, snorkeling, or other extreme activities? nothing with heights, oh gosh. the most extreme I get is helping Sherlock solve a crime.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Thursday, April 15 of 2021 with Proverbs 15 and Psalm 15, accompanied by Psalm 27 for the 27th day of Spring and Psalm 105 for day 105 of the year

[Proverbs 15]

[Wisdom Far Better than Wickedness]

Respond gently when you are confronted

and you’ll defuse the rage of another.

Responding with sharp, cutting words will only make it worse.

Don’t you know that being angry

can ruin the testimony of even the wisest of men?

When wisdom speaks, understanding becomes attractive.

But the words of the fool make their ignorance look laughable.

The eyes of the Lord are everywhere

and he takes note of everything that happens.

He watches over his lovers,

and he also sees the wickedness of the wicked.

When you speak healing words,

you offer others fruit from the tree of life.

But unhealthy, negative words do nothing but crush their hopes.

You’re stupid to mock the instruction of a father,

but welcoming correction will make you brilliant.

There is prosperity in the house of the righteous,

but the house of the wicked is filled with trouble,

no matter how much money they have.

When wisdom speaks, revelation-knowledge is released,

but finding true wisdom in the word of a fool is futile.

It is despicable to the Lord

when people use the worship of the Almighty

as a cloak for their sin,

but every prayer of the righteous is pleasing to his heart.

The Lord detests the lifestyle of the wicked,

but he loves those who pursue purity.

Severe punishment awaits the one

who turns away from the truth,

and those who rebel against correction will die.

Even hell itself holds no secrets from the Lord God,

for before his eyes, all is exposed—

and so much more the heart of every human being.

The know-it-all never esteems the one who tries to correct him.

He refuses to seek good advice from the wise.

[Living an Ascended Life]

A cheerful heart puts a smile on your face,

but a broken heart leads to depression.

Lovers of God hunger after truth,

but those without understanding

feast on foolishness and don’t even realize it.

Everything seems to go wrong

when you feel weak and depressed.

But when you choose to be cheerful,

every day will bring you more and more joy and fullness.

It’s much better to live simply,

surrounded in holy awe and worship of God,

than to have great wealth with a home full of trouble.

It’s much better to have a meal of vegetables surrounded with love and grace

than a steak where there is hate.

A touchy, hot-tempered man picks a fight,

but the calm, patient man knows how to silence strife.

Nothing seems to work right for the lazy man,

but life seems smooth and easy when your heart is virtuous.

When a son learns wisdom,

a father’s heart is glad.

But the man who shames his mother is a foolish son.

The senseless fool treats life like a joke,

but the one with living-understanding makes good choices.

Your plans will fall apart right in front of you

if you fail to get good advice.

But if you first seek out multiple counselors,

you’ll watch your plans succeed.

Everyone enjoys giving great advice.

But how delightful it is to say the right thing at the right time!

The life-paths of the prudent lift them progressively heavenward,

delivering them from the death spirals

that keep tugging them downward.

The Lord champions the widow’s cause,

but watch him as he smashes down the houses of the haughty!

The Lord detests wicked ways of thinking,

but he enjoys lovely and delightful words.

The one who puts earning money above his family

will have trouble at home,

but those who refuse to exploit others

will live in peace.

Lovers of God think before they speak,

but the careless blurt out wicked words meant to cause harm.

The Lord doesn’t respond to the wicked,

but he’s moved to answer the prayers of the righteous.

Eyes that focus on what is beautiful bring joy to the heart,

and hearing a good report

refreshes and strengthens the inner being.

Accepting constructive criticism

opens your heart to the path of life,

making you right at home among the wise.

Refusing constructive criticism shows

you have no interest in improving your life,

for revelation-insight only comes as you accept correction

and the wisdom that it brings.

The source of revelation-knowledge is found

as you fall down in surrender before the Lord.

Don’t expect to see Shekinah glory

until the Lord sees your sincere humility.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 15 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 15]

A song of David.

Eternal One, who is invited to stay in Your dwelling?

Who is granted passage to Your holy mountain?

Here is the answer: The one who lives with integrity, does what is right,

and speaks honestly with truth from the heart.

The one who doesn’t speak evil against others

or wrong his neighbor,

or slander his friends.

The one who loathes the loathsome,

honors those who fear the Eternal,

And keeps all promises no matter the cost.

The one who does not lend money with gain in mind

and cannot be bought to harm an innocent name.

If you live this way, you will not be shaken and will live together with the Lord.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 15 (The Voice)

[Psalm 27]

Light, space, zest—

that’s God!

So, with him on my side I’m fearless,

afraid of no one and nothing.

When vandal hordes ride down

ready to eat me alive,

Those bullies and toughs

fall flat on their faces.

When besieged,

I’m calm as a baby.

When all hell breaks loose,

I’m collected and cool.

I’m asking God for one thing,

only one thing:

To live with him in his house

my whole life long.

I’ll contemplate his beauty;

I’ll study at his feet.

That’s the only quiet, secure place

in a noisy world,

The perfect getaway,

far from the buzz of traffic.

God holds me head and shoulders

above all who try to pull me down.

I’m headed for his place to offer anthems

that will raise the roof!

Already I’m singing God-songs;

I’m making music to God.

Listen, God, I’m calling at the top of my lungs:

“Be good to me! Answer me!”

When my heart whispered, “Seek God,”

my whole being replied,

“I’m seeking him!”

Don’t hide from me now!

You’ve always been right there for me;

don’t turn your back on me now.

Don’t throw me out, don’t abandon me;

you’ve always kept the door open.

My father and mother walked out and left me,

but God took me in.

Point me down your highway, God;

direct me along a well-lighted street;

show my enemies whose side you’re on.

Don’t throw me to the dogs,

those liars who are out to get me,

filling the air with their threats.

I’m sure now I’ll see God’s goodness

in the exuberant earth.

Stay with God!

Take heart. Don’t quit.

I’ll say it again:

Stay with God.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27 (The Message)

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Sunflower Quotes

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• A rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. All flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like woman too. – Unknown • A wise quote can only change a wise man! Therefore, wise sayings are for the wise men, not for the fools! The sunflowers turn their face toward the Sun, the fools, toward the darkness! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller’s journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go. – William Blake • And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood. – Unknown • As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them. – Henry Ward Beecher • Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun. – Khaled Hosseini

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Sunflower', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_sunflower').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_sunflower img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Because a rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. – Miranda Kerr • Bibliotropic,” Hugh said. “Like sunflowers are heliotropic, they naturally turn towards the sun. We naturally turn towards the bookshop. – Jo Walton • Big doesn’t necessarily mean better. Sunflowers aren’t better than violets.- Edna Ferber • Bring me then the plant that points to those bright Lucidites swirling up from the earth, and life itself exhaling that central breath! Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light. – Unknown • But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. • Does she realize she looks like a sunflower, ready to rain sunlight on all who look down upon her? – Simone Elkeles • Eagle of flowers! I see thee stand, And on the sun’s noon-glory gaze; With eye like his, thy lids expand, And fringe their disk with golden rays: Though fix’d on earth, in darkness rooted there, Light is thy element, thy dwelling air, Thy prospect heaven. – James Montgomery • Every friend is to the other a sun, and a sunflower also. He attracts and follows. – Jean Paul • Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; But friendship is the rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. • Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others are plain, honest and upright, like the broad faced sunflower and the hollyhock. – Henry Ward Beecher • For time and eternity there have been fathers like Nathan who simply can see no way to have a daughter but to own her like a plot of land. To work her, plow her under, rain down a dreadful poison upon her. Miraculously, it causes these girls to grow. They elongate on the pale slender stalks of their longing, like sunflowers with heavy heads. You can shield them with your body and soul, trying to absorb that awful rain, but they’ll still move toward him. Without cease they’ll bend to his light. – Barbara Kingsolver • From the animist point of view, humans belong in a sacred place because they themselves are sacred. Not sacred in a special way, not more sacred than anything else, but merely as sacred as anything else — as sacred as bison or salmon or crows or crickets or bears or sunflowers. – Daniel Quinn • Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you. – Thornton Wilder • Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er — my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know — ?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said. Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you got over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears. – J. K. Rowling • Her smile put the sunflower to shame. – Jerry Spinelli • I am painting with the same enthusiasm as a Marseillaise eats bouillabaisse … I am painting big sunflowers. – Vincent Van Gogh • I am working with the enthusiasm of a man from Marseilles eating bouillabaisse, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you because I am busy painting huge sunflowers. – Vincent Van Gogh • I believe there is something of the divine mystery in everything that exists. We can see it sparkle in a sunflower or a poppy. We sense more of the unfathomable mystery in a butterfly that flutters from a twig–or in a goldfish swimming in a bowl. But we are closest to God in our own soul. Only there can we become one with the greatest mystery of life. In truth, at very rare moments we can experience that we ourselves are that divine mystery. – Jostein Gaarder • I can’t feel bad about being who I am, just like the girl next to me can’t feel bad about being who she is. Because a rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. – Miranda Kerr • I chose a sunflower because when darkness descends they close up to regenerate. But I really wish I’d never had the tattoo in the first place. Clean, clear skin is always better. – Halle Berry • I don’t think there’s anything on this planet that more trumpets life that the sunflower. For me that’s because of the reason behind its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that’s such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life. – Helen Mirren • I faced the gaudy sunflower on her canvas bag — it looked hand-painted and at last my eyes fell into hers. I said, ‘Thanks for the card.’ Her smile put the sunflower to shame. She walked off. – Jerry Spinelli • I think the worst lie I ever told was, because my last name is Goth, I used to tell kids at school that I used to be related to ‘Van Gogh’ and when I turned 18, I would inherit all the fortune from the sunflower painting. – Mia Goth • I thought maybe I could become like the next Van Gogh. I bought a sunflower and painted it, and it looked like the work of a 6-year-old. – Takeshi Kitano • I want to be like a sunflower; so that even on the darkest days I will stand tall and find the sunlight. – Unknown • I want to die at a hundred years old with an American flag on my back and the star of Texas on my helmet, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle at 75 miles per hour. I want to cross one last finish line as my wife and my ten children applaud, and then I want to lie down in a field of those famous French sunflowers and gracefully expire, the perfect contradiction to my once anticipated poignant early demise. – Lance Armstrong • I want to encourage women to embrace their own uniqueness. Because just like a rose is beautiful, so is a sunflower, so is a peony. I mean, all flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like women too. – Miranda Kerr • I would much rather end up a fertiliser under a sunflower which is eventually made into sunflower seed oil so that instead of nibbling me in her prawn cocktail, the pretty girl will rub me on her bristols as she suns herself on a beach in the Caribbean. – Oliver Reed • If I were a flower.. I would be a sunflower. To always follow the sun, Turn my back to darkness, Stand proud, tall and straight even with my head full of seeds. – Unknown • I’m now painting with all the elan of a Marseillais eating soup, which won’t surprise you when I tell you I’m painting large sunflowers. The idea? To decorate the studio, now there’s hope of Gauguin living here. I aim at a dozen panels of sunflowers in the room I’ve set aside for Gauguin. – Vincent Van Gogh • I’m thinking waiters and waitresses are going to be bracing for more customers coming in going, not just kind of where is that beef from, but, like, where is that vanilla from and what’s up with that sunflower oil? Is it organic or not and how many pesticides? – Michael Moss • In April, we cannot see sunflowers in France, so we might say the sunflowers do not exist. But the local farmers have already planted thousands of seeds, and when they look at the bare hills, they may be able to see the sunflowers already. The sunflowers are there. They lack only the conditions of sun, heat, rain and July. Just because we cannot see them does not mean that they do not exist. – Nhat Hanh • In the morning the sunflower blossoms due to the sun’s rays. This morning I just wanted to remind you that my heart blossoms with love for you everyday I wake up and it is going to do that forever. – Sheila Carey • In your hands The dog, the donkey, surely they know They are alive. Who would argue otherwise? But now, after years of consideration, I am getting beyond that. What about the sunflowers? What about The tulips, and the pines? Listen, all you have to do is start and There’ll be no stopping. What about mountains? What about water Slipping over rocks? And speaking of stones, what about The little ones you can Hold in your hands, their heartbeats So secret, so hidden it may take years Before, finally, you hear them? – Mary Oliver • It is not while beauty And youth are thine own And thy cheeks Unprofaned by a tear That the ferver and faith Of a soul can be known To which time will but Make thee more dear No the heart that has truly loved Never forgets But as truly loves On to the close As the sunflower turns On her god when he sets The same look which She’d turned when he rose. – Thomas Moore • Light-enchanted sunflower, thou Who gazest ever true and tender On the sun’s revolving splendour. – Pedro Calderon de la Barca • London life was very full and exciting […] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • Make it like a sunflower. – Steve Jobs • Man would not be man if his dreams did not exceed his grasp… If I remember the sunflower forest it is because from its hidden reaches man arose. The green world is his sacred center. In moments of sanity he must still seek refuge there. – Loren Eiseley • My will broke at the sound of his voice, and my head turned with as much inevitability as a sunflower turning its face to the sun. – Patricia Briggs • My work is the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird – equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. – Mary Oliver • Never look directly at the sun. Instead, look at the sunflower. – Vera Nazarian • Not only does a lens distort forms, but the ordinary plate makes an unholy mess of colour in its tone relations. Yellow becomes black, and blue white. Black sunflowers against a white sky – what a travesty! – Walter J. Phillips • One of the remarkable characteristics of young wild sunflowers, in addition to growing in soil that is not hospitable, is how the young flower bud follows the sun across the sky. In doing so, it receives life-sustaining energy before bursting forth in its glorious yellow color. Like the young sunflower, when we follow the Savior of the world, the Son of God, we flourish and become glorious despite the many terrible circumstances that surround us. He truly is our light and life. – Quentin L. Cook • Pick up a sunflower and count the florets running into its centre, or count the spiral scales of a pine cone or a pineapple, running from its bottom up its sides to the top, and you will find an extraordinary truth: recurring numbers, ratios and proportions. – Charles Jencks • Ranger picked up and there was a moment of silence as if he was sensing me at the other end, taking my body temperature and heart rate long distance. “Babe,” he finally said. “Do you know the slum apartment building Bobby Sunflower owns on Stark?” “Yes. It’s on the same block as his funeral home.” “That’s the one. I’m going in to look for someone. If you don’t hear from me in a half hour maybe you could send someone to check.” “Is this a smart thing to do?” “Probably not.” “As long as you know,” Ranger said. And he disconnected. – Janet Evanovich • Restless sunflower; cease to move. – Pedro Calderon de la Barca • Someone was sitting in front of a sunflower, watching the sunflower, a cup of sun, and so I tried it too. It was wonderful; I felt the whole universe in the sunflower. That was my experience. Sunflower meditation. A wonderful confidence appeared. You can see the whole universe in a flower. – Shunryu Suzuki • Space for the sunflower, bright with yellow glow, To court the sky. – Unknown • Sunflowers are like people to me. – Joan Mitchell • The American Indian is of the soil, whether it be the region of forests, plains, pueblos, or mesas. He fits into the landscape, for the hand that fashioned the continent also fashioned the man for his surroundings. He once grew as naturally as the wild sunflowers, he belongs just as the buffalo belonged. – Luther Standing Bear • The author O. Henry taught me about the value of the unexpected. He once wrote about the noise of flowers and the smell of birds—the birds were chickens and the flowers dried sunflowers rattling against a wall. – Chuck Jones • The cops drive by to do some more good deeds A young black male spits a sunflower seed in the air. – Dred Scott • The earth paints a portrait of the sun at dawn with sunflowers in bloom. Unhappy with the portrait, she erases it and paints it again and again. – Rabindranath Tagore • The morning glories and the sunflowers turn naturally toward the light, but we have to be taught, it seems. – Richard Rohr • The road to freedom is bordered with sunflowers. – Martin Firrell • The splendor of a human heart that trusts it is loved unconditionally gives God more pleasure than Westminster Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel, Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony”, Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers”, the sight of 10,000 butterflies in flight, or the scent of a million orchids in bloom. Trust is our gift back to God, and he finds it so enchanting that Jesus died for love of it. – Brennan Manning • The sunflower is a favorite emblem of constancy – Thomas Bulfinch • The sunflower is mine, in a way. – Vincent Van Gogh • The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame; It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head. – Abraham Cowley • The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the first from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and glen. – William C. Bryant • There are not too many fables about man’s misuse of sunflower seeds. – Richard Brautigan • There is no friend like the old friend, who has shared our morning days, No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise: Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. • There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun. – Patricia A. McKillip • True friends are like bright sunflowers that never fade away, even over distance and time – Unknown • Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then! – Allen Ginsberg • Waves of hands, hesitations at street corners, someone dropping a cigarette into the gutter-all are stories. But which is the true story? That I do not know. Hence I keep my phrases hung like clothes in a cupboard, waiting for some one to wear them. Thus waiting, thus speculating, making this note and then an• other I do not cling to life. I shall be brushed like a bee from a sunflower. My philosophy, always accumulating, welling up moment by moment, runs like quicksilver a dozen ways at once. – Virginia Woolf • We are so impressed by scientific clank that we feel we ought not to say that the sunflower turns because it knows where the sun is. It is almost second nature to us to prefer explanations . . . with a large vocabulary. We are much more comfortable when we are assured that the sunflower turns because it is heliotropic. The trouble with that kind of talk is that it tempts us to think that we know what the sunflower is up to. But we don’t. The sunflower is a mystery, just as every single thing in the universe is. – Robert Farrar Capon • We’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re all blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment (Sunflower Sutra) – Allen Ginsberg • we’re all golden sunflowers inside. – Allen Ginsberg • We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision. – Allen Ginsberg • We’ve left the moment. It’s gone. We’re somewhere else now, and that’s okay. We’ve still got that moment with us somewhere, deep in our memory, seeping into our DNA. And when our cells get scattered , whenever that happens, this moment will still exist in them. Those cells might be the biulding block of something new. A planet or star or a sunflower, a baby. Maybe even a cockroach. Who knows? Whatever it is, it’ll be a part of us, this thing right here and now, and we’ll be a part of it. – Libba Bray • When van Gogh paints sunflowers, he reveals, or achieves, the vivid relation between himself, as man, and the sunflower, as sunflower, at that quick moment of time. His painting does not represent the sunflower itself. We shall never know what the sunflower itself is. And the camera will visualize the sunflower far more perfectly than van Gogh can. – D. H. Lawrence • Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns? – Allen Ginsberg • Who knows what may lie around the next corner? There may be a window somewhere ahead. It may look out on a field of sunflowers. – Joe Hill [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

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[equitiesstocks]

Sunflower Quotes

Official Website: Sunflower Quotes

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• A rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. All flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like woman too. – Unknown • A wise quote can only change a wise man! Therefore, wise sayings are for the wise men, not for the fools! The sunflowers turn their face toward the Sun, the fools, toward the darkness! – Mehmet Murat Ildan • Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller’s journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go. – William Blake • And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood. – Unknown • As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them. – Henry Ward Beecher • Attention shifted to him like sunflowers turning to the sun. – Khaled Hosseini

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Sunflower', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_sunflower').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_sunflower img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Because a rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. – Miranda Kerr • Bibliotropic,” Hugh said. “Like sunflowers are heliotropic, they naturally turn towards the sun. We naturally turn towards the bookshop. – Jo Walton • Big doesn’t necessarily mean better. Sunflowers aren’t better than violets.- Edna Ferber • Bring me then the plant that points to those bright Lucidites swirling up from the earth, and life itself exhaling that central breath! Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light. – Unknown • But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. • Does she realize she looks like a sunflower, ready to rain sunlight on all who look down upon her? – Simone Elkeles • Eagle of flowers! I see thee stand, And on the sun’s noon-glory gaze; With eye like his, thy lids expand, And fringe their disk with golden rays: Though fix’d on earth, in darkness rooted there, Light is thy element, thy dwelling air, Thy prospect heaven. – James Montgomery • Every friend is to the other a sun, and a sunflower also. He attracts and follows. – Jean Paul • Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; But friendship is the rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. • Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others are plain, honest and upright, like the broad faced sunflower and the hollyhock. – Henry Ward Beecher • For time and eternity there have been fathers like Nathan who simply can see no way to have a daughter but to own her like a plot of land. To work her, plow her under, rain down a dreadful poison upon her. Miraculously, it causes these girls to grow. They elongate on the pale slender stalks of their longing, like sunflowers with heavy heads. You can shield them with your body and soul, trying to absorb that awful rain, but they’ll still move toward him. Without cease they’ll bend to his light. – Barbara Kingsolver • From the animist point of view, humans belong in a sacred place because they themselves are sacred. Not sacred in a special way, not more sacred than anything else, but merely as sacred as anything else — as sacred as bison or salmon or crows or crickets or bears or sunflowers. – Daniel Quinn • Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths…and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you. – Thornton Wilder • Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er — my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know — ?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said. Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you got over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears. – J. K. Rowling • Her smile put the sunflower to shame. – Jerry Spinelli • I am painting with the same enthusiasm as a Marseillaise eats bouillabaisse … I am painting big sunflowers. – Vincent Van Gogh • I am working with the enthusiasm of a man from Marseilles eating bouillabaisse, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you because I am busy painting huge sunflowers. – Vincent Van Gogh • I believe there is something of the divine mystery in everything that exists. We can see it sparkle in a sunflower or a poppy. We sense more of the unfathomable mystery in a butterfly that flutters from a twig–or in a goldfish swimming in a bowl. But we are closest to God in our own soul. Only there can we become one with the greatest mystery of life. In truth, at very rare moments we can experience that we ourselves are that divine mystery. – Jostein Gaarder • I can’t feel bad about being who I am, just like the girl next to me can’t feel bad about being who she is. Because a rose can never be a sunflower, and a sunflower can never be a rose. – Miranda Kerr • I chose a sunflower because when darkness descends they close up to regenerate. But I really wish I’d never had the tattoo in the first place. Clean, clear skin is always better. – Halle Berry • I don’t think there’s anything on this planet that more trumpets life that the sunflower. For me that’s because of the reason behind its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that’s such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life. – Helen Mirren • I faced the gaudy sunflower on her canvas bag — it looked hand-painted and at last my eyes fell into hers. I said, ‘Thanks for the card.’ Her smile put the sunflower to shame. She walked off. – Jerry Spinelli • I think the worst lie I ever told was, because my last name is Goth, I used to tell kids at school that I used to be related to ‘Van Gogh’ and when I turned 18, I would inherit all the fortune from the sunflower painting. – Mia Goth • I thought maybe I could become like the next Van Gogh. I bought a sunflower and painted it, and it looked like the work of a 6-year-old. – Takeshi Kitano • I want to be like a sunflower; so that even on the darkest days I will stand tall and find the sunlight. – Unknown • I want to die at a hundred years old with an American flag on my back and the star of Texas on my helmet, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle at 75 miles per hour. I want to cross one last finish line as my wife and my ten children applaud, and then I want to lie down in a field of those famous French sunflowers and gracefully expire, the perfect contradiction to my once anticipated poignant early demise. – Lance Armstrong • I want to encourage women to embrace their own uniqueness. Because just like a rose is beautiful, so is a sunflower, so is a peony. I mean, all flowers are beautiful in their own way, and that’s like women too. – Miranda Kerr • I would much rather end up a fertiliser under a sunflower which is eventually made into sunflower seed oil so that instead of nibbling me in her prawn cocktail, the pretty girl will rub me on her bristols as she suns herself on a beach in the Caribbean. – Oliver Reed • If I were a flower.. I would be a sunflower. To always follow the sun, Turn my back to darkness, Stand proud, tall and straight even with my head full of seeds. – Unknown • I’m now painting with all the elan of a Marseillais eating soup, which won’t surprise you when I tell you I’m painting large sunflowers. The idea? To decorate the studio, now there’s hope of Gauguin living here. I aim at a dozen panels of sunflowers in the room I’ve set aside for Gauguin. – Vincent Van Gogh • I’m thinking waiters and waitresses are going to be bracing for more customers coming in going, not just kind of where is that beef from, but, like, where is that vanilla from and what’s up with that sunflower oil? Is it organic or not and how many pesticides? – Michael Moss • In April, we cannot see sunflowers in France, so we might say the sunflowers do not exist. But the local farmers have already planted thousands of seeds, and when they look at the bare hills, they may be able to see the sunflowers already. The sunflowers are there. They lack only the conditions of sun, heat, rain and July. Just because we cannot see them does not mean that they do not exist. – Nhat Hanh • In the morning the sunflower blossoms due to the sun’s rays. This morning I just wanted to remind you that my heart blossoms with love for you everyday I wake up and it is going to do that forever. – Sheila Carey • In your hands The dog, the donkey, surely they know They are alive. Who would argue otherwise? But now, after years of consideration, I am getting beyond that. What about the sunflowers? What about The tulips, and the pines? Listen, all you have to do is start and There’ll be no stopping. What about mountains? What about water Slipping over rocks? And speaking of stones, what about The little ones you can Hold in your hands, their heartbeats So secret, so hidden it may take years Before, finally, you hear them? – Mary Oliver • It is not while beauty And youth are thine own And thy cheeks Unprofaned by a tear That the ferver and faith Of a soul can be known To which time will but Make thee more dear No the heart that has truly loved Never forgets But as truly loves On to the close As the sunflower turns On her god when he sets The same look which She’d turned when he rose. – Thomas Moore • Light-enchanted sunflower, thou Who gazest ever true and tender On the sun’s revolving splendour. – Pedro Calderon de la Barca • London life was very full and exciting […] But in London there would be no greenhouse with a glossy tank, and no apple-room, and no potting-shed, earthy and warm, with bunches of poppy heads hanging from the ceiling, and sunflower seeds in a wooden box, and bulbs in thick paper bags, and hanks of tarred string, and lavender drying on a tea-tray. – Sylvia Townsend Warner • Make it like a sunflower. – Steve Jobs • Man would not be man if his dreams did not exceed his grasp… If I remember the sunflower forest it is because from its hidden reaches man arose. The green world is his sacred center. In moments of sanity he must still seek refuge there. – Loren Eiseley • My will broke at the sound of his voice, and my head turned with as much inevitability as a sunflower turning its face to the sun. – Patricia Briggs • My work is the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird – equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. – Mary Oliver • Never look directly at the sun. Instead, look at the sunflower. – Vera Nazarian • Not only does a lens distort forms, but the ordinary plate makes an unholy mess of colour in its tone relations. Yellow becomes black, and blue white. Black sunflowers against a white sky – what a travesty! – Walter J. Phillips • One of the remarkable characteristics of young wild sunflowers, in addition to growing in soil that is not hospitable, is how the young flower bud follows the sun across the sky. In doing so, it receives life-sustaining energy before bursting forth in its glorious yellow color. Like the young sunflower, when we follow the Savior of the world, the Son of God, we flourish and become glorious despite the many terrible circumstances that surround us. He truly is our light and life. – Quentin L. Cook • Pick up a sunflower and count the florets running into its centre, or count the spiral scales of a pine cone or a pineapple, running from its bottom up its sides to the top, and you will find an extraordinary truth: recurring numbers, ratios and proportions. – Charles Jencks • Ranger picked up and there was a moment of silence as if he was sensing me at the other end, taking my body temperature and heart rate long distance. “Babe,” he finally said. “Do you know the slum apartment building Bobby Sunflower owns on Stark?” “Yes. It’s on the same block as his funeral home.” “That’s the one. I’m going in to look for someone. If you don’t hear from me in a half hour maybe you could send someone to check.” “Is this a smart thing to do?” “Probably not.” “As long as you know,” Ranger said. And he disconnected. – Janet Evanovich • Restless sunflower; cease to move. – Pedro Calderon de la Barca • Someone was sitting in front of a sunflower, watching the sunflower, a cup of sun, and so I tried it too. It was wonderful; I felt the whole universe in the sunflower. That was my experience. Sunflower meditation. A wonderful confidence appeared. You can see the whole universe in a flower. – Shunryu Suzuki • Space for the sunflower, bright with yellow glow, To court the sky. – Unknown • Sunflowers are like people to me. – Joan Mitchell • The American Indian is of the soil, whether it be the region of forests, plains, pueblos, or mesas. He fits into the landscape, for the hand that fashioned the continent also fashioned the man for his surroundings. He once grew as naturally as the wild sunflowers, he belongs just as the buffalo belonged. – Luther Standing Bear • The author O. Henry taught me about the value of the unexpected. He once wrote about the noise of flowers and the smell of birds—the birds were chickens and the flowers dried sunflowers rattling against a wall. – Chuck Jones • The cops drive by to do some more good deeds A young black male spits a sunflower seed in the air. – Dred Scott • The earth paints a portrait of the sun at dawn with sunflowers in bloom. Unhappy with the portrait, she erases it and paints it again and again. – Rabindranath Tagore • The morning glories and the sunflowers turn naturally toward the light, but we have to be taught, it seems. – Richard Rohr • The road to freedom is bordered with sunflowers. – Martin Firrell • The splendor of a human heart that trusts it is loved unconditionally gives God more pleasure than Westminster Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel, Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony”, Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers”, the sight of 10,000 butterflies in flight, or the scent of a million orchids in bloom. Trust is our gift back to God, and he finds it so enchanting that Jesus died for love of it. – Brennan Manning • The sunflower is a favorite emblem of constancy – Thomas Bulfinch • The sunflower is mine, in a way. – Vincent Van Gogh • The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame; It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head. – Abraham Cowley • The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the first from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and glen. – William C. Bryant • There are not too many fables about man’s misuse of sunflower seeds. – Richard Brautigan • There is no friend like the old friend, who has shared our morning days, No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise: Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. • There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun. – Patricia A. McKillip • True friends are like bright sunflowers that never fade away, even over distance and time – Unknown • Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then! – Allen Ginsberg • Waves of hands, hesitations at street corners, someone dropping a cigarette into the gutter-all are stories. But which is the true story? That I do not know. Hence I keep my phrases hung like clothes in a cupboard, waiting for some one to wear them. Thus waiting, thus speculating, making this note and then an• other I do not cling to life. I shall be brushed like a bee from a sunflower. My philosophy, always accumulating, welling up moment by moment, runs like quicksilver a dozen ways at once. – Virginia Woolf • We are so impressed by scientific clank that we feel we ought not to say that the sunflower turns because it knows where the sun is. It is almost second nature to us to prefer explanations . . . with a large vocabulary. We are much more comfortable when we are assured that the sunflower turns because it is heliotropic. The trouble with that kind of talk is that it tempts us to think that we know what the sunflower is up to. But we don’t. The sunflower is a mystery, just as every single thing in the universe is. – Robert Farrar Capon • We’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re all blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment (Sunflower Sutra) – Allen Ginsberg • we’re all golden sunflowers inside. – Allen Ginsberg • We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision. – Allen Ginsberg • We’ve left the moment. It’s gone. We’re somewhere else now, and that’s okay. We’ve still got that moment with us somewhere, deep in our memory, seeping into our DNA. And when our cells get scattered , whenever that happens, this moment will still exist in them. Those cells might be the biulding block of something new. A planet or star or a sunflower, a baby. Maybe even a cockroach. Who knows? Whatever it is, it’ll be a part of us, this thing right here and now, and we’ll be a part of it. – Libba Bray • When van Gogh paints sunflowers, he reveals, or achieves, the vivid relation between himself, as man, and the sunflower, as sunflower, at that quick moment of time. His painting does not represent the sunflower itself. We shall never know what the sunflower itself is. And the camera will visualize the sunflower far more perfectly than van Gogh can. – D. H. Lawrence • Which way will the sunflower turn surrounded by millions of suns? – Allen Ginsberg • Who knows what may lie around the next corner? There may be a window somewhere ahead. It may look out on a field of sunflowers. – Joe Hill [clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );