#Cemetery Sunday Wednesday
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Woodlawn Memorial Park, Colma
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here is a poem by polish poet Zbigniew Herbert
Report From The Besieged City
Too old to carry arms and fight like the others -
they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler
I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege
I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began
two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn
everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time
all we have left is the place the attachment to the place
we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses
if we lose the ruins nothing will be left
I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks
monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency
tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants
wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers
we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture
thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected
the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender
friday: the beginning of the plague saturday: our invincible defender
N.N. committed suicide sunday: no more water we drove back
an attack at the eastern gate called the Gate of the Alliance
all of this is monotonous I know it can't move anyone
I avoid any commentary I keep a tight hold on my emotions I write about the facts
only they it seems are appreciated in foreign markets
yet with a certain pride I would like to inform the world
that thanks to the war we have raised a new species of children
our children don’t like fairy tales they play at killing
awake and asleep they dream of soup of bread and bones
just like dogs and cats
in the evening I like to wander near the outposts of the city
along the frontier of our uncertain freedom.
I look at the swarms of soldiers below their lights
I listen to the noise of drums barbarian shrieks
truly it is inconceivable the City is still defending itself
the siege has lasted a long time the enemies must take turns
nothing unites them except the desire for our extermination
Goths the Tartars Swedes troops of the Emperor regiments of the Transfiguration
who can count them
the colours of their banners change like the forest on the horizon
from delicate bird's yellow in spring through green through red to winter's black
and so in the evening released from facts I can think
about distant ancient matters for example our
friends beyond the sea I know they sincerely sympathize
they send us flour lard sacks of comfort and good advice
they don’t even know their fathers betrayed us
our former allies at the time of the second Apocalypse
their sons are blameless they deserve our gratitude therefore we are grateful
they have not experienced a siege as long as eternity
those struck by misfortune are always alone
the defenders of the Dalai Lama the Kurds the Afghan mountaineers
now as I write these words the advocates of conciliation
have won the upper hand over the party of inflexibles
a normal hesitation of moods fate still hangs in the balance
cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders is smaller
yet the defence continues it will continue to the end
and if the City falls but a single man escapes
he will carry the City within himself on the roads of exile
he will be the City
we look in the face of hunger the face of fire face of death
worst of all - the face of betrayal
and only our dreams have not been humiliated
❤️❤️
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Wednesday i got a 20pg document from D’s lawyer cruelly assassinating my character denying my humanity & weaponizing what he knows about my father’s domestic violence against me as a child. Thursday my mom tried to kill herself and i had to go find her across town before she could do it and sleep in front of the door so she couldn’t leave again. Friday/Saturday i stayed up over 24hrs to watch my Zayde and he died while i held his hand and talked to him and then i had to wash & dress his body alone because nobody else felt able to. Sunday i organized the shiva house. Today i was asked by his sons to step in as a pallbearer based on my caretaking only for his “actual” grandchildren who were nowhere to be found in his dying year to publicly call me a blonde haired bimbo who has no right to carry their Zaide in front of their entire extended family at the funeral. They then stood up to make a surprise eulogy about how much their grandfather loved them only & how my siblings and i aren’t to be counted as grandchildren. At the cemetery they interrupted the rabbi’s prayers to demand that i not be allowed to shovel dirt onto the coffin as a last mitzvah given that i’m not a blood relation. All of this usually would not bother me however i think it has been an usually trying week even for me and although they’re right that he didn’t love me, i did take care of him all year as he died when they wouldn’t even call to check on him and so their reasoning seems just a little bit unwarranted . ANYWAY it’s so unfair that i’m the only one not allowed to die here
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seungcheol ; make or break
➔ synopsis: You barely remember the last time you celebrated Valentine’s Day with someone other than your moms. In fact, if it wasn’t for your students’ excited countdown, you’re sure that you would’ve ignored the romantic atmosphere just like every other year. But as they like to remind you, you can’t forget this time—you have someone to celebrate with, after all. (kindergarten teacher!au).
➔ warnings: a passed relative, cemetery mention || genre(s): fluff, romance, slice of life
➔ 3574 words || scenario || kindergartenteacher!au
➔ notes: i always have strong starts and then lose steam by the middle, and it's so obvious 😭 regardless, i hope you like this one. highly suggest reading kindergarten teacher!seungcheol part 1 and part 2 (2021) first. side note, i use kindercare for this au because it's a mash-up between kindergarten and daycare. i guess nursery school!au would be a better name because apparently kindercare is an american company. this is dedicated to that anon who talked about seungcheol meeting y/n's parents like two years ago, though i can't find the reply anymore.
There’s a palpable excitement in the room as you unstick the velcro name tags and shift everyone forward one space. The Monday morning ritual is arguably their favorite part of class, perhaps second only to recess, and you’re sure it must’ve been yours, too, at some point in your childhood. Once the last name is smoothed into place, you turn to the class.
“Alright, so Haeni is this week’s line leader, Jumin is our caboose, Hongseok is our supply manager…” You rattle off the names of the light inspector, messenger, door holder, trash collector, and librarian as quickly as you can. You learned long ago that if you stop and wait for them to cheer for every person, this five-minute routine would quickly eat up ten minutes of morning meeting time. Time you don’t have, unless you want to cut into nap time and it’s an unspoken rule to never cut into nap time. “And lastly, our reader of the day!”
“Me! It’s me!” Juhyun screeches, launching out of her seat to grab the pointing stick.
It’s the only time your Walking feet rule is allowed to be forgotten, but once she gets to the front, she shifts her stance, suddenly shy under the class’s attention. You lead her through the morning message, board full of sight words that she stumbles over, and then you pull out the calendar poster. February, it reads across the top, printed with hearts and Cupids in case anyone forgot which commercial holiday rules over the month.
“Today is…Monday, February 13,” Juhyun recites nervously, tapping each part with the stick. “Yesterday was Sunday, February 12. Tomorrow is Wednesday—”
“No, tomorrow is Tuesday!” Someone from the back row pipes up and gasps as if surprised at himself for yelling out.
“I was going to say that! Tomorrow is Tuesday, February 14. And it’s our Valentine’s Day party!”
You laugh as the children cheer. “Yes, yes,” you say, a finger to your lips until they settle down. You take back the stick and outline a giant circle around the number 14. “So you all keep reminding me. If you forget what to bring tomorrow, take a look at the sign-up sheet before you leave today.”
An arm pops up from another corner of the room. “Teacher Y/N, I have a question!” She waves, just barely sitting on the ground.
“Yes, Haeni, I see your quiet hand. What’s your question?”
“Are you and Teacher Seungcheol going on a date tomorrow?”
The class oohs and squeals at Haeni’s brave question, hiding giggles behind their hands, and you bite back an affectionate smile. They’ve always been invested in your love life, but ever since that joint birthday party, the twins have crowned themselves the catalyst that got their beloved teachers together and take every opportunity to remind their friends.
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” you admit. “If we need any brilliant ideas, I’ll ask all of you, but enough cupid talk for now—our new librarian needs to come up and choose a book for today’s reading.”
. . .
Seungcheol’s rug is comfier than yours, you realize as you stare at his ceiling. He has more beanbag chairs, too. You stretch out a foot and tap one of them. No wonder Haeni always stares enviously whenever her sister walks into this classroom.
A shadow blocks the overhead fluorescent light, and you squint to see his face. “You know there’s dirt and germs all over the ground,” he says, amused. “I vacuumed right before you came, but it’s still gross.”
“S’ok, it’ll build up my immune system. I get sick more often than the students, and half of them eat snacks on the playground with dirt on their fingers. Maybe they’re onto something.”
He laughs, walking past you to pin his students’ drawings on the wall. He’s using the succulent- and flower-themed thumbtacks you got him the other day. The best dollar store find yet. You’re waiting to see if they’ll release other designs. “Should I get you a dirt pudding cup with actual dirt tomorrow, then?”
And there’s the topic of the day. You roll onto your stomach, propping your chin on steepled hands as you watch his side profile. He’s wearing glasses again today, thin frames balanced low on his nose. They’re one of your favorite pairs, and you remind him of it every time. Maybe that’s why you see it so often.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” Somehow the words Valentine’s Day feel foreign in your mouth, so you swallow them back. “I would’ve forgotten to ask you if Haeni didn’t mention it today.”
“So did Haemin. Must’ve been a coordinated effort.” He pauses, putting up a few more drawings before responding, voice soft, “We don’t have to do anything special if that’s not your style. It’s only been a month, after all; I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
He looks over and sends you a smile that’s equal parts sincere and nervous, waiting for your reaction. When you smile back, he returns to his work.
“It’s not like it’s not my style.”
“M-hm?”
“It’s just been a long time since I actually celebrated Valentine’s Day with a date. I usually just get dinner with my mom.”
“Oh, if that’s your tradition, then don’t worry about it. We can hang out another time, and you don’t have to get me anything. I’d still like to bring you a present, though. Is that okay?”
You trace the dotted lines on his street-themed rug, your finger running between a few trucks and cars. Like he said, it’s only been a month since the twins’ birthday—and when he asked you out after school—but something about Seungcheol makes you feel like he’d treat your heart like glass. It’s in the way he hands you a warm drink every morning as you wait for morning recess to end. The way he taps your shoulder in the hallway to flip the tag back into your top, leaving with a brief squeeze of your hand. The way he rearranges your classroom after you had a long day of sick kids and cranky attitudes, quietly and without complaint. The way he looks at you now, again, waiting for your confirmation like your opinion matters to him more than anything else.
And maybe it does.
“Actually, are you free tomorrow evening?” you blurt out.
“I think so, why?”
“Do you…actually want to come spend time with me and my mom? I want to celebrate with you, but I can’t bail on her. You don’t have to say yes; I just thought it’d be a nice opportunity to introduce you and all.”
He tries to tamper down his response, but you’re struck by how child-like he is. Like your students this morning, his excitement thrums beneath his skin, and he bounces on the balls of his feet as he nods a touch too enthusiastically. His I’d love to is a breath of air that rushes into and fills your lungs.
You push to your feet and grab your keys. “I’ll go warm up the car. You can lock up and come out when you’re ready.”
. . .
Before Seungcheol, it was you and your mom against the world—or so you liked to say, huddled up next to each other as you waited for the car to fight the February chill and heat up. For the last few years, the tradition has shifted. What started as a visit to the cemetery became a visit and lunch between your classes. Then a visit and dinner once you found a job. Then a visit and spending all day together once you lost that job. This year, with the nursery school position taking up your mornings and early afternoons, you and your mom settled back into a visit and dinner. With a new guest, it seems.
“Are you sure he’s alright with that? He could be saying it to just be nice. Why don’t you two kids spend time together, hm? I can go on my own.” Her voice crackles over your car’s speakers.
“No,” you say, elbowing the just-entered Seungcheol to be quiet. He grins at you with clasped hands, a silent apology. You’re tempted to make him wait outside until you’re done with the conversation. “He’d like to be there, and I want him there, too, to be honest. Do you mind?”
"Of course I don't! The more, the merrier. I was going to call up our favorite place tonight to make reservations, but we can just get take-out and have a nice dinner at home. I can finally show off my new dinner plates to someone." There's a sudden shuffling on her end. "Oh God, wait, why did you tell me now? I don't know if I have anything nice to wear! Okay, bye, I have to go looking. Love you, see you tomorrow."
You laugh. "Okay, mom, bye."
The car beeps once she hangs up, and Seungcheol finally releases the satisfied hum that he's been holding in his chest.
"You two sound close."
"We are."
"How long have you been spending Valentine's together?"
"Buckle up, passenger princess. Then I'll answer your questions."
He does as told while you pull out of the parking space and lot. The school is in a nice neighborhood, but it seems like the trade-off is having curved streets that make you feel like a rat in a maze.
"We've been doing this for as early as I can remember. Some years, Mom and Mama went for dinner alone, and I had a babysitter for a few hours, but for Mama, Valentine's Day wasn't that special. She loved my mom every day of the year, so eventually they started taking me out to dinner with them. It's a day of love, after all, and they loved me a lot."
Once you turn onto the main road, Seungcheol lays his hand palm-up on his knee and you reach across the console to thread your fingers with his. It's just a straight path from here to the exit you both take, and you settle into your seat, glad that school ends just before the afternoon traffic gets bad.
"And then Mama passed away while I was in high school. She was on her way to order some flowers for Valentine's Day—she liked to get her order in early to avoid the last minute rush." You laugh. "You can see who I take after. We didn't celebrate that year, obviously. It was way too soon. We picked it up again the year after, though, just me and Mom. We'd visit Mama and then spend time together."
He squeezes your fingers, and you squeeze back.
"Are you sure you're comfortable with me coming?"
"Yes, of course. That's why I asked."
You glance over at him. The glasses are away now, now longer blocking the long lashes that brush against his cheeks with every blink. His lips are set in a slight frown, his brows bunched in thought. Your boyfriend—the word still feels new to you—is unfairly handsome in his blue jeans and cable-knit sweater.
You take your hand back to change lanes. "Penny for your thoughts?"
He looks at you, and the lines fade away. His soft expression is even softer in the afternoon sun.
"Nothing much. I'm just thinking about what to bring for your mom tomorrow. Does she like certain flowers? Have a chocolate preference? Should I bring a dessert to share after dinner? I can steal Mingyu’s secret cookie recipe." He takes a deep breath, wiping his palms on his lap. "I mean, for you, I'll just scoop some dirt from the yard before coming to work—”
You snort, shoving his shoulder. "Shut up, I'll toss it right back out the window."
"—but for your moms, I want to make a good impression, y'know? Should I wear a suit? Would your mama be impressed?"
You press your lips together to avoid looking like a lovestruck fool on the highway. Some of your friends had wanted to test him, make sure that he's good enough for you, but as soon as you'd introduced him to the group, their eyes snapped to you. I've never seen someone more head over heels, they complained after your hang out. God, when is it my turn? But really, if they'd looked a little closer at your expression that evening, they would've caught you looking back at Seungcheol, just as enamored.
"I'm sure they'll appreciate the effort," you say. “Regardless of what you do. The fact that you’re coming at all means a lot.”
By the time you pull into his driveway and wave to Mingyu taking out the trash, he's already memorized basic facts about your mom and promised to not screw up tomorrow.
"You'll be fine," you assure Seungcheol as he comes around to your side of the car.
He leans through the open window to press a kiss to your cheek. "I hope so. Don't want to scare them so early in our relationship. I’ll see you in the morning?”
As he disappears into the door Mingyu left unlocked, you hope he doesn't feel like a nervous wreck.
. . .
Seungcheol feels like a nervous wreck.
He knows that he's bothering Joshua, who's only trying to make tonight's dinner, but in his defense, he's sitting on the kitchen counter and fairly out of the way, so he's not that much of a distraction—other than the part where he’s having a dramatic meltdown.
"You're blowing this way out of proportion," Joshua says, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to pat the chicken dry. One pot chicken stew again. It’s his third time making it since finding the easy recipe, but it’s good, so Seungcheol can’t complain. "It's not a big deal."
"It's not a big deal? Josh, I'm literally spending Valentine's Day with them and their mom. Their moms, really. They trust me enough to meet their mama, too. Isn't this huge?"
"Okay, yeah, it is pretty huge," Joshua admits with a shrug. "I was trying to convince you that it wasn't so you'd calm down, but you're literally meeting their family a month in. Congrats, man."
"Thanks, but I need more than congrats." Seungcheol leans to the side as Joshua reaches around him for a knife. "I need…I don't know, a vision. A step-by-step, fool-proof plan to make sure I don't make myself look like an idiot at their mom's dining table. Or anywhere in the house, really. I need a miracle. What if they decide to break up with me?"
He groans into his hands. Joshua continues cutting carrots into uniform slices. Does he not sense the distress?
"They're not going to break up with you."
"You don't know that.”
"I'm going to kick you out of the kitchen and make you talk to Soonyoung."
"He's going to get nervous for me and make it worse," Seungcheol whines, and Joshua rolls his eyes. "I made the mistake of talking to him last time I was about to meet my partner's family."
"You also made the mistake of bringing him as a plus one to their get together," Joshua points out.
"In my defense, he enlisted Jeonghan to convince me, and Jeonghan's really good at talking."
Joshua tsks. "And watching the world burn while he stands next to a gas can and lighter. You should know that by now." He finally puts the knife down and turns to Seungcheol with his arms crossed. "Okay, fine. What's the schedule tomorrow?"
"Right after school ends, we're going to hit the road and take a break halfway. It's like an hour-long drive to the cemetery? Not bad, so we’ll pick up some flowers on the way. I'm meeting their mom and mama there, and then we're going to their mom's house for dinner."
“Not even a buffer activity, huh? What about bringing a board game or cards?”
“That’s a good idea. Y/N said they used to watch movies together, so we might do that, too.”
Wait.
“We have a day off on Wednesday. You don’t think we’ll stay the night, right?” Because one evening he can deal with—he can look put together for a few hours—but his morning self? His bedhead alone could scare off the weak-hearted. What’s the protocol for that, anyway? Would he share a room with you, or would it be more appropriate to take the couch? Why didn’t he think to ask you all this before?
Joshua claps him on the shoulder. “Focus, man. It’s definitely possible, so I’d say prepare a bag and keep it in your car just in case. You’re over-thinking it right now, but based on how you described the phone call, their mom is probably nervous, too. She was looking for a good outfit, right?”
Seungcheol takes a deep breath. That’s true, your mom seemed just as frantic to impress, though her panic was cut short by the phone call.
“And in the midst of this, I bet Y/N’s even more nervous than both of you combined. If this meeting goes to flames, they’ll have to clean up the aftermath on both sides. They wouldn’t have taken the risk if they didn’t think it was worth it, so trust them and help them make it work.”
That’s true, too. His friends are good at this sort of thing, and he’s glad that it didn’t take too much arm twisting to get valuable advice.
“Whew. Alright, I think I got this. Thanks, Josh, I should get—”
The hand on his shoulder tightens, pinning him on the counter. Joshua’s smile barely conceals the hint of mischief. “Where are you heading? You have to pay the price and help me now. Get chopping, lover boy.”
. . .
You offered to drive since Seungcheol picked you up and took you to work, but he gently refused. You thought that he was being chivalrous, but he admitted that he was just trying to push down his anxiety by keeping his hands and mind busy.
“I don’t know how far I’ll spiral if given the chance,” he told you as he claimed the driver’s seat, and you did your best to play the role of the chatty passenger. Before you know it, he’s pulling into the cemetery and the nerves set in again.
You lean forward and point at a small navy car with faded stickers that you’d recognize anywhere. “That’s Mom’s. We can park right behind her.”
Parallel parking is the easy part—getting out of the actual car is harder. You manage a tense breath of a laugh at his tight grip on the steering wheel, though seeing your mom in the distance is making your heart constrict, too. Why are you getting nervous all of a sudden?
“You look good,” you insist, pinching his cheek. And he does, even after you managed to talk him out of the full suit. Warm and cozy—your mom gets to see him the way you do. “You’ll be fine. You’re both looking forward to meeting and impressing each other, so if it’s any comfort, she’ll be too busy worrying about her own actions to judge you for anything.”
He turns his head and kisses your hand. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself right now?” he teases, but from his lopsided smile, you know he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.
You grin. “Choi Seungcheol, you’re a charming guy. Be yourself.”
He insists on holding the two bouquets, yet another thing to keep his hands occupied, though they shake in his grip as you get closer. One of them is for your mom. She takes them with a pleased gasp. The other he carefully tucks into the vase beside your mama’s name, and when he straightens, you step to his side.
“Mom, this is Seungcheol, the guy I’m seeing. We work together.”
“Hi, I’m Y/N’s mom,” she says, holding out a hand for him to shake. He takes it in both of his own. “You can just call me mom, though—oh my, unless that’s too forward of me? Is it too soon?”
She glances at you, eyes wide in the same What do I do? panic that you saw on Seungcheol’s features earlier. You laugh. Yeah, things will be just fine.
#caratwritersclub#seventeen scenarios#seungcheol scenarios#s.coups scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seungcheol fluff#s.coups fluff#g: svt#m: seungcheol#t: scenario#s: notrequested#ravixen#kindercareau
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“The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; for I know that you are looking for Jesus who has been crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Come, see the place where He was lying.” —Matthew 28:5-6 (NASB)
“Saturday evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out and purchased burial spices so they could anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on Sunday morning, just at sunrise, they went to the tomb. On the way they were asking each other, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” But as they arrived, they looked up and saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled aside. When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a white robe sitting on the right side. The women were shocked, but the angel said, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Look, this is where they laid his body. Now go and tell his disciples, including Peter, that Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you before he died.” The women fled from the tomb, trembling and bewildered, and they said nothing to anyone because they were too frightened.” —Mark 16:1-8 (NLT)
“Easter Explained: An 8-Day Guide to Celebrating Holy Week.” A Devotional By Spoken Gospel - Day 8: “Easter Sunday”:
“For the last 1,600 years, Christians around the world remember the last days of Jesus' life during Holy Week. Today is Resurrection Sunday. Easter Sunday remembers the day Jesus was raised from the dead.
After being executed as a threat to Roman and Jewish power, Jesus laid in his grave for two full nights. For two full nights Jesus' disciples, followers, and family wept. For two full nights the schemes of Rome, corrupt religion, and darkness seemed to have won...until there was an earthquake. And an angel dressed in white appeared, rolled back the stone covering Jesus' tomb, and scared the guards away (Matthew 28:2-3).
At sunrise, a group of women approach Jesus' tomb to embalm his body (Mark 16:1-2). But as they approach, they see that Jesus' tomb has been opened (Mark 16:4). And inside the tomb is an angel dressed in white. He tells them, 'Don't be alarmed...You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him' (Mark 16:6). The angel then tells these women to leave the cemetery and tell Jesus' disciples what they have seen: Jesus is alive!
But before they could get far, Jesus appears and they immediately bow before their King (Matthew 28:8-9). With his grave behind him, Jesus is now the King of both Life and Death. And he remains the only person in human history to have risen from the dead, never to die again. Later, Jesus tells his disciples that he has been given all authority in heaven and on earth and that he is with them (Matthew 28:18). He then sends them out to make new disciples and citizens of his Kingdom, just before he ascends into the clouds and takes his throne at God's right hand (Luke 24:51-52).
Holy Week doesn't simply remember the final week of Jesus' life, but the days leading to Jesus' coronation and enthronement. On Palm Sunday Jesus rode into Jerusalem like a rival king. He challenged the power structure of the temple on Monday and invited others into his rebellion on Tuesday. On Wednesday Jesus was anointed with perfumed oil, like his forefather King David. Like a monarch, on Thursday he announced a New Covenant treaty with God. And on Friday Jesus was killed as 'King of Jews' in a battle with death. But Resurrection Sunday is good news because it is the day Jesus is raised from the dead and is enthroned over all other nations, powers, and rulers. Jesus is the true King of the world, life, and death, just as he claimed to be.
When people came into contact with the resurrected Jesus, almost everyone responded the same way - they were all terrified. The soldiers guarding the tomb fell down as if dead. The women at the tomb cowered. Jesus needed to tell his own disciples not to be alarmed. The religious elite didn't even believe Jesus rose from the dead, but were still scared that others believed it! And in one sense, this is the most appropriate response to a King who can wrestle death and win. But another response to Jesus' enthronement is to run and tell others that good news.
So I pray that on this Easter Sunday you will accept the good news that Jesus has risen from the dead as the world's only resurrected King and run to tell others the good news as well.”
#matthew 28:5-6#mark 16:1-8#bible#christian blog#god#belief in god#faith in god#jesus#belief in jesus#faith in jesus#bible verses#bible truths#bible scriptures#bible quotes#bible study#christian life#christian faith#christian living#christian inspiration#christianity#christian encouragement#christian motivation#christian quotes#easter#easter sunday#crucifixion#resurrection#keep the faith#make him known#youversion
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A boy holds his pet dog as his family evacuated from the war-hit area gets on an evacuation train in Pokrovsk, eastern Ukraine, Saturday, June 25, 2022. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)
Debris lies on the floor of an auditorium in a school that was hit in its yard by overnight shelling in Kharkiv, Ukraine, Monday, June 27, 2022. (REUTERS/Leah Millis)
A local resident places a vase with flowers on a broken window in his house damaged by the Russian shelling in Bakhmut, Donetsk region, Ukraine, Sunday, June 26, 2022. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)
A couple wounded in a shopping mall hit by a Russian missile strike hold hands in a hospital in Kremenchuk, Poltava region, Ukraine, Monday, June 27, 2022. (REUTERS/Anna Voitenko)
A woman lays a toy car near to tributes for the victims of the Russian rocket attack at a shopping center in Kremenchuk, Ukraine, Wednesday, June 29, 2022. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)
Olena Ivanivna kneels and rests her head on the coffin of her 29-year-old son at the cemetery in Bortnychi, Ukraine, on Sunday, June 26, 2022. "Put me next to him," she wailed as she buried her only child. “I prayed to God for you and your guys to be safe, I prayed for Ukraine,” she cried. “I got on my knees. I begged, I asked, I prayed. There is no god. He is not helping anyone.” (Mauricio Lima/The New York Times)
A local resident collects photos of his family left under the rubble after Russian shelling in Mykolaiv, Ukraine, Wednesday, June 29, 2022. (AP Photo/George Ivanchenko)
Anna Satanovskaya, 84, takes in the sudden loss of her husband, who was killed moments before, after a neighborhood of apartment complexes was hit multiple times by shelling in Kharkiv, Ukraine, Monday, June 27, 2022. (REUTERS/Leah Millis)
Rescuers rest at a site of a shopping mall hit by a Russian missile strike in Kremenchuk, Poltava region, Ukraine, Tuesday, June 28, 2022. (REUTERS/Anna Voitenko)
Women ride a scooter through Kyiv's Maidan Square, past sandbags that spell out 'HELP,' and flags displayed from around the world, in Ukraine, Saturday, June 25, 2022. (AP Photo/Nariman El-Mofty)
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Hello! my name is Alyx, and im a Hellenic Witch! i wanted to talk about my practice a little bit, and let other people know that its ok to be unconventional when it comes to your practice. you do what you think is best, and intuition is your best friend when it comes to designing your practice.
anyways, heres some things i do throughout the week to worship my Gods.
personally, i got very overwhelmed when i started worshipping, so i set up a schedule, giving each deity and myself a day of the week that coincided with their historical days of worship.
Sunday
This day is for Lord Apollon. for him, i wake up before the sun and have a glass of orange juice while i watch the sunrise. i also go for a walk, and feed the corvids (crows and ravens) in my neighborhood.
Monday
this day is for Lady Artemis. for her, i record the moon phase, go to a park near my house, and bring some food with me for any animals i might come across. this is also one of the days i cleanse my space and myself.
Tuesday
this day is for Lord Ares. for him, i go to the gym, spend any free time i have with my dogs, and take good care of my mental health.
Wednesday
this day is for Lady Hestia. this day is apart from her historical day, but i trusted my intuition and chose this day because she feels very centering and in the middle of everything, and wednesday’s give that energy for me. for her, i bake or cook something, veil, and make sure that im choosing kindness over everything else.
Thursday
this day is for Lord Thanatos. for him, i wear something dark, honor the dead by visiting the cemetery near my house and leaving offerings, and finding a butterfly in something. finding a butterfly is a bit unconventional, but butterflies remind me of the beauty and peacefulness of death. its actually funny because when i first started to worship him, he would send me monarchs. one of those times, i found one almost dead and drowned in a puddle, and i took care of it in its final moments.
Friday
this day is for me. i set aside time to take care of myself, i make sure i eat well and drink water, i go to the gym, and i try to get more sleep. because i am currently worshipping 6 Deities, i have one day left over, and so i treat myself on that day how i would treat a deity. obviously i never compare myself to them and never hold myself on the same level as them, but its important for me to set aside a day for myself.
Saturday
this day is for Lady Aphrodite. for her, i take an everything shower, do my makeup, and honor Water. to me, she is a Water Deity, because in her birth myth, the blood of Uranus and the sea mixed together, and she rose from the foam, so involving water in her worship is important to me.
Other Things i do for my Gods
i took a vow of chastity for Lady Hestia
i make my own offerings out of clay (im a ceramics student so thats easy for me)
i wrote my own prayers for them
i braid colors into my hair that reminds me of them (i do one color per day and on each of their days i braid it into my hair using string)
i use my hair as a tool for my practice, and take care of it well. i use it to express periods of my life, and periods of change. for example, i cut it all off when i decided to change myself, and morned my old self while it was short, and now that it grew back out, i am out of that period and into a different one.
i offer myself as a conduit for them to experience the human condition of the 2000’s. they can inhabit my body for a period of time and live my life, taste my food, experience working a modern job (🤢🤢🤢), stuff like that.
i have a playlist for each of them with songs they like/songs that remind me of them/ give off the same vibe. i listen to their playlist on their day
anyways, my posts will most likely be about my practice and anything i think might be helpful, please talk to me about any questions you have!
#hellenic polytheism#hellenic deities#hellenic pagan#hellenic devotion#hellenic gods#witchcraft#witch#apollo#ares#hestia#thanatos#aphrodite#pagan witch#please ask me questions#i love getting asks#dont be rude#be a nice person
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I thought y'all might like an overview of what I did this week in my practice. I won't tell you everything as there are practices that are private, but I will share the rest. Keep in mind here that I practice mostly secular cottage witchcraft which may mean that my practice is very different from yours, and that is completely okay.
On Sunday, my partner and I tore our living room apart to make space for our new grow light setup. This involved pulling all of the books off of the lower bookshelf and drilling a hole through to gain access to a wall outlet to install a smart plug, moving the couch, and many other chores - the end result was that I got to deep clean some spaces that are harder to reach. Since I had better access to my windows (behind the couch), I cleaned them with a vinegar solution that I had enchanted and pulled all of my protections out to recharge. (I also trellised a Hoya and went for a long walk in the woods which are craft adjacent)
Moonday is always my big housewitch upkeep day so I mostly did my normal house stuff. I always clean my kitchen and refresh offerings on this day. I have been working with a hearth candle which I lit while I was working.
I prefer to do my protection work under the energy of Mars, so I lit a candle to recharge my window protections on Tuesday with the help of a few plants I grow in my garden. For reference, the garden is right outside of the windows, so this is an obvious connection.
I did not do anything for my craft on Wednesday other than talk with a friend and plan for Thursday's activities.
On Thursday, Gray and their partner came over to do some "witchy crafting". I spent much of the afternoon cleaning up some more as I needed to make space for four people to have tables to craft on and then made a sweet potato jambalaya. I also made a very experimental apple spice syrup to boost creativity and abundance during Autumn. Gray and I made spell candles in fall gourds while my partner crafted for their D&D campaign and Gray's boyfriend coded on our couch.
Yesterday was a perfect Autumn day (cloudy and warm), so I decided on some cemetery maintenance. I went to my cemetery and picked up all the trash. Additionally, on my walk, I picked flowers to dry - mostly rose, marigold, and chrysanthemum. I use these in an offering I made for the dead a number of years ago - each Autumn, I replace the old dried flowers from the year before with new ones.
I would say that this week was a decent example of the amount of "work" that I do in a week. It was a little on the high end of average (my chronic illness has been very kind to me recently) but most of the projects were relatively low-energy.
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UK Times skewers H&M...
After a month of glorious silence, Meghan’s back — as wronged and stoic as ever
Hilary Rose
Wednesday October 05 2022, 12.00pm, The Times
Because I always strive to be a happy little elf, I will start with the happy news. It’s been four weeks, nearly a whole month of glorious silence, since the last episode of Meghan’s podcast.
To recap, previous episodes proved to be the most persuasive argument ever heard for living off-grid. The Duchess of Sussex delayed the next one until the official mourning period for the Queen was over and, to be fair, a month without Meghan is surely what the Queen would have wanted.
But all good things must come to an end and now she’s back, as wronged and stoic as ever, telling the sad truths we must all take on board if we are to become better people. Or something. I won’t lie, these are tough times to be a happy little elf, although the news this week that she employs a fact-checker on the podcast is beyond parody and cheered me up no end. Is one enough? Will she ever develop the ability to fact-check before she opens her mouth?
● Meghan Markle’s Archetypes podcast review — almost entirely preposterous
In this episode, she starts strongly, if incomprehensibly, with ghormeh and larb. Apparently they’re foodstuffs. Her guest is Margaret Cho, a successful Asian-American actress, activist and comedian. Cho has many interesting things to say about the perceptions and stereotypes surrounding Asian-American women, and whole seconds go by in which she is allowed to say them uninterrupted.
Ultimately, though, it falls to Meghan to point out that “all people” are multidimensional and layered, although no mention of elves, which makes me wonder if I am truly seen. She also confides that she loves Los Angeles because it is “full of culture”, which makes me sad, not happy, because if only we had some culture of our own, maybe she’d have stuck around.
It’s been a busy time for the Sussexes. Watching the Queen’s funeral, did they recall hitting back at her with the jibe “Everyone can live a life of service”? Probably not. The brand building is going brilliantly, though, or at least better than that tin-eared visit to a Californian cemetery on Remembrance Sunday.
Only yesterday, in a last desperate plea for privacy, they released new photographs of themselves. Meghan goes for smouldering stateswoman. Harry, bless him, manages something closer to gormless or, in the word of royal biographer Hugo Vickers, sad.
The Duke and Duchess of Sussex were pictured holding hands before attending the opening ceremony of One Young World in September -- MISAN HARRIMAN
Back home in California, there are reports that they’re trying to row back on the Netflix documentary that pays the mortgage, and that Harry is frantically trying to tone down his memoir now that his father is King. He might be panicking because it’s too mean about Camilla, as some suspect, or he might just want to bring it bang up to date with all the many slights he no doubt feels they suffered while they were here. Some were uniform related, as they always are.
My favourite is the story that Meghan had to be banned from going to Scotland, a country she usually flies straight over. Just this summer, the couple allegedly declined to holiday at Balmoral, when the Queen was still alive, but perhaps the fact-checker can get to the bottom of it.
They’ve parted ways from their American PR company, Sunshine Sachs, which successfully remained in their employment for more than half an hour and deserves a long-service medal with the P45. And they appear to have suffered the indignity of being NFI to the launch of George and Amal Clooney’s charitable foundation.
For legal reasons, we must consider the possibility that they were invited but chose not to go, before snorting into our tea and proceeding. The event featured exactly the sort of Obama-heavy guest list they’d like to be on, and it is exactly the sort of glitzy foundation, honouring worthy people, which they’re struggling to establish for themselves, possibly because the fascination with their navels remains strong.
We don’t yet know the pain they’re feeling about the continued uncertainty over Archie and Lilibet’s titles, but we can be sure they’ll keep it to themselves. Harry spent his entire life cursing his royal title, so it must be excruciating for him that his children may never get to experience the full horror of being an HRH.
Anyone who thinks, “Hmmm, didn’t he once speak about severing the cycle of genetic pain suffered by royal children?” must have misremembered, as Meghan once told a High Court judge. I will leave you with Meghan’s closing remarks, as rendered by the transcript of the podcast, which it warns is automatically generated and may not be accurate. Judge for yourself. I’m just an elf.
“Be yourself your full complete whole layered, sometimes weird, sometimes awesome, but always best.” Quite so. I couldn’t have put it better myself.
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It's Sunday. The day is almost beautiful, with wind. They are playing boules on the road below and I can hear the clash of the balls from my room. The world is peaceful. How nice it would be to have the heart of a boule player in a Provençal village on a Sunday! But I promised myself to tell you the facts.
It's not much, it's true. Life continues with one more guest at the meals, Michèle Halphen who has moved to the hotel. I think she's leaving tomorrow. I like her but her sadness adds to the inertia of the days here. Yesterday, after a week's absence, Dolo came to liven up the house. I took her home in the evening. Sad too: she has been waiting for S[artre] for weeks, he said he would come at the end of this month and he announces that it will be at the beginning of the next. In short, things are not going well for her. Cheerful, isn't it?
I was repeating to myself Vigny's verse: "Separated lovers were united at the altars"! Come on, it's not for tomorrow. More important news: my brother is coming tomorrow. As the G[allimard]s are still here (they leave on the 20th) I will lodge him at the hotel. I will go tomorrow afternoon to Cannes to look for him. I am happy to see him again, but worried about him. I would like him to get well again. What else? A doctor from Grasse came to dinner with his wife. She had lost her mother following an operation that had caused an intestinal obstruction. The mourning was eight days old. Now you know that the company of more than four people exhausts me. Moreover, you can't count on the G[allimard]s to animate the conversation. So I made a great effort to talk about anything. The result was that I spoke successively about the cemetery in Cabris, about surgeons who are butchers, and about intestinal obstruction (all this without thinking of the deceased, of course). To finish, I told the story of Chamfort, where a doctor talking about his deceased patient said: "He is dead, no doubt, but he died cured."
On Wednesday Gide, who is in Juan-les-Pins where he is translating an English play for Barrault invited us all to lunch. Cartier, the producer I told you about and about whom you didn't tell me anything (but you are answering less and less to the questions I ask you. Linotte!) writes to me about his projects. I don't know why I trust him. After all, maybe we'll see The Plague on the screen. Now it's my turn. I've been muddy for two days. Headaches, vague nausea, I feel like I'm pregnant. I've even lost my rested complexion, but I guess it will pass. It is true that this waiting, it is silly to say, is so anxious that it ends up tiring me even physically. I exhaust myself imagining you and living our meeting in advance. Yet I behave wisely: a well-organized schedule, regular work (which does not necessarily mean fruitful work. There are good days and bad days, that's all). But the deprivation of happiness sometimes has the effect of under-nourishment, of asphyxiation too.
All my hope, all my courage comes finally from what I expect as a total reunion, love, emotion, joy, absolute freedom between us, bodies and soul, transparency and naturalness. And I do not wait for it as a utopia. I wait for it because I am sure of it. And it is not so far, no, it is not so far. Because listen carefully: yesterday in the mountain I saw the first flowers of the almond tree. The tree was still black. But at the ends of the branches a dozen or so frail and soft flowers were already rustling in the wind. You understand, my love, Maria dear! It was the extreme point of the extreme beginning of spring. And a great impulse came to my eyes and heart, which I can call no more than an impulse of adoration. I made a vow. I looked for a long time at the crying petals. And I went home, my heart full of love. Goodbye, my beautiful and wonderful love. I kiss my Valentine and give her the few flowers that we should give on Valentine's Day to the one that we love. You are the one I love, before every spring, and I kiss you deeply, with all my love.
Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 12, 1950 [#187]
#albert camus#camus#absurd#absurdism#maria casares#correspondance#love#love letters#wind#nausea#anxiety#anxious#hope#courage#joy#freedom#almond tree#spring#valentines day#heart#adoration#vow
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Halloween Celebration
Blog Navigation • Masterlist • Current Fic: Wildfire Masterlist
There it was again, the pound, pound, pound against the front door. It shook the entire trailer, jostling shadows across four walls, cast by the incessant static of the television. You watched, in horror, as the volume knob turned upwards, heard the faintest click click of the dial until every noise was drowned in shhhhhhh. You clung to your best friend, watching, waiting, frozen in fear.
To celebrate my favorite time of year, and hitting a couple of pretty exciting milestones on this Hellsite, I’d love to write a few short blurbs* based on some spooky prompts. Alongside the blurbs, we’ll be doing WIP Wednesday and Sleepover Friday for the entire month of October!
To submit a request, send me a character & spooky prompt from the lists below the cut! All fics will be ST!Character x Reader. Posting will start Sunday, October 1st.
*Some blurbs may contain mature content and/or horror. Be sure to read content warnings for each and, as always, this blog is 18+. Minors DNI please! I do not give any permission for my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!
List of Characters I’ll write for:
👑 Steve Harrington
🎸 Eddie Munson
🔫 Nancy Wheeler
🎺 Robin Buckley
📷 Jonathan Byers
🍕 Argyle
Spooky Prompts*:
👻 Explore a haunted house
🔮 Have a seance
🕯 Use a Ouija Board
📺 Watch horror movies
🌲 Get lost in the woods at night
⚰️ Spend the night in a cemetery
🏢 Explore an abandoned store/mall
🎢 Explore an abandoned theme park
🐻 Try to find a cryptid
📚 Read aloud from a cursed book
👽 Look for UFOs
😈 Summon a demon
🧙♀️ Cast a curse
🔪 Get chased by a slasher killer
🧛♂️ Get chased by a vampire
🧟♂️ Get chased by zombies
*Prompt list found here.
#amanda's spooky celebration#stranger things fic#october prompts#spooky prompts#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#jonathan byers#argyle
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A 32-year-old man has been arrested following a stabbing in a cemetery.
The attack at Broadway Cemetery in Peterborough happened on Wednesday afternoon.
A man in his 30s was taken to hospital with serious injuries, but they were not believed to be life-threatening.
Cambridgeshire Police said the man, from Peterborough, was arrested on Sunday on suspicion of assault causing grievous bodily harm, being in possession of an offensive weapon in a public place, committing a public order offence and theft from a shop. He remains in custody.
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Happy Sunday! Pattye’s post from Facebook’s Hollywood Page of Death… they posted it last year…they will repost it this Wednesday 12/6-and of course awesome Instagram’s Vintage Stardust will do a post, too- like every year… totally appreciate it… And flowers will be delivered to Granby Cemetery (Colorado) on Wednesday, the 20th anniversary-always remembered, never forgotten.. #pattyemattick #patriciamattick #instagram #vintagestardust #fbhollywoodpageofdeath #GoneButWillNeverBeForgotten #granbycolorado 👩🏻🦰👓🙏 💐 Look at this post on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/HollywoodPageOfDeath/photos/a.1999407983514141/4998787680242808/?type=3&mibextid=fNONUu
#patricia mattick#adorable#1970s#television#gonebutnevereverforgotten#gonebutnotforgotten#gonebutneverforgotten#pattyemattick#20th anniversary#Granby Colorado#instagram#facebook
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Sunday 16 July Mixtape 339 “Sunset Rapture”
2023-07-16
Downtempo Sunrise Lounge
Wednesdays, Fridays & Sundays.
Support the artists and labels.
Don't forget to tip so future shows can bloom.
Binaural Space-Home 00:00
The Metamorph-Fibonacci 00:58
Wave Temples-Procession of the Star People 04:16
Jas Shaw-An uncertain ratio 05:05
Alan Tew-Snout 10:05
Popol Vuh-Aguirre I (l'acrime di rei) 11:02
Town & County-Bretonside Rain 16:18
Turista Per Sempre, Melanie Charles-La Fatigue 19:21
Future Children-Rapid Rupture 24:32
Surprise Chef-Goldie’s Lullaby 27:53
Gold Panda-Arima 30:28
The Zenmenn, John Moods-Fantasy Again 33:32
Philippe Brown-Nazca Cemetery 39:39
Masahiro Takahashi-Okinawa Sunset 43:08
#Binaural Space#The Metamorph#Wave Temples#Not Not Fun Records#Jas Shaw#Alan Tew#Themes International Music#Popol Vuh#Late Night Tales#Town & County#Woodford Halse#Turista Per Sempre#Melanie Charles#Future Children#N.O.I.A. Records#Surprise Chef#Big Crown Records#Gold Panda#City Slang#The Zenmenn#John Moods#Music From Memory#Philippe Brown#ERR REC#Masahiro Takahashi#telephone explosion records#instrumental#downtempo#sunrise#lounge
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idk man, went up the hill to the cemetery again, almost feels comical? Like, when I used to go- 6,7,8 years ago, sober, drinkin black coffee- dead fuckin silent. Today, drunk- Stereotypical spooky shit- Owls, crickets- felt nothin. Sat and smoked cigs and drank my little pocket bottle of vodka- How silly? Before was readin all about UFOs and shit, Operation Trojan Horse- some shit bout how Wednesday nights were the busiest times for "metaphysical phenomenon"- climb that hill and hope to see somethin- Today its a Sunday night, walk circles, watch clouds flirt with the moon- Felt nothin. Just me and the stones. Cops around, so walk past the gate, double back- have a giggle fit. Almost feels..typical. Owls hooting. Clouds on the moon. Laugh at roadkill- You're kidding me. Only way itd feel more typical is arms reaching up from wet soil, zombie shit
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Taisiia Kovaliova, 15, stands amongst the rubble of a playground in front of her house hit by a Russian missile in Mykolaiv, Sunday, October 23, 2022. "I spent all my childhood and life at this courtyard, I already feel nostalgic. I went to this swing that stood it all" Taisiia said. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)
Destroyed domes lie next to a damaged church in the retaken village of Bohorodychne, eastern Ukraine, Saturday, October 22, 2022. (AP Photo/Andriy Andriyenko)
People queuing up hold plastic bottles to refill drinking water from a tank in the center of Mykolaiv, Monday, October 24, 2022. Since mid-April, citizens of Mykolaiv, with a pre-war population of half a million people, have lived without a centralized drinking water supply. Russian Forces cut off the pipeline through which the city received drinking water for the last 40 years. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)
Zoo worker Svitlana Shmaldii feeds a giraffe at Mykolaiv Zoo, Ukraine on Wednesday, October 26, 2022. "I go to work at the Zoo every day, despite the sirens and the sounds of explosions, it's scary, but who will look after the animals?" Svitlana said to the Associated Press. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)
Ancient stone faceless statues of polovets baba (woman), the symbol of ancestors, are seen against the background of recently retaken city of Izium, Kharkiv region, Ukraine, Tuesday, October 25, 2022. The Turkish group of the Polovtsian tribes had inhabited Eastern European steppes in the 11th-13th centuries. There are nine ancient statutes near Izium, one of them was ruined by the Russian shelling. Ukrainian cultural officials have said that 377 cultural objects were damaged or ruined since the Russian invasion on February 24. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)
A view shows the city centre without electricity after critical civil infrastructure was hit by Russian missile attacks, in Kyiv, Ukraine, Monday, October 24, 2022. (REUTERS/Gleb Garanich)
People queue at the post office to receive back payments of their pension and state aid from the seven-month period of Russian occupation in their town, whereby they say they received no payments and could not work or leave, in Savyntsi, Ukraine, Saturday, October 22, 2022. (REUTERS/Clodagh Kilcoyne)
A house damaged by the Russian shelling is seen in Bakhmut, the site of the heaviest battle against the Russian troops in the Donetsk region, Ukraine, Wednesday, October 26, 2022. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)
Tamara, 50, mourns at the grave of her only son, a military servicemen, killed during a Russian bombing raid, at a cemetery in Mykolaiv, Ukraine, on Wednesday, October 26, 2022. Tamara did not learn of her son's death until four months after he died, when she managed to escape from her village in Kherson occupied by Russian troops. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)
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