I hate idiots who truly believe that Tom Riddle (not voldemort) could have fallen in love with Bellatrix if he had the capability. Not just because I want that hunk all for myself, but also because did you not remember they have a 24 year old age difference? When he was out travelling and making his horcruxes, Bellatrix was just born. They did not go to school together. The “Lestrange” that Slughorn wanted the paper from in the memory was not Bella, heck she didn’t even have that last name yet until she got married.
This fanmix contains an assortment of folk-style instrumentals perfect for long nights spent in smokey taverns, and inns. For the weary travelers of Middle Earth who come to rest their aching bodies at the Prancing Pony–longing for merry music, and pint of Barliman’s Best ale. [Listen here]
I have the weirdest dreams, honestly. Last night I dreamt that Jamie Lannister was in love with Lord Farquaad and he was really upset about it. He was like ‘I can’t be in love with him, he’s an animated character’ so I said ‘Jamie, you fuck your own sister. This minor obstacle shouldn’t stop you.’
My brain is fucked up.
I prayed about whether or not I should veil before the
Blessed Sacrament for a year. I read every article you can imagine and listened
to the many reasons behind veiling.
The idea caught my attention quickly, and soon I fell in
I heard that veiling is a sign of humility before God. I
thought I understood. Then I started veiling.
When I wear the veil I become more fully
of my faults.
I am able to notice when my thoughts wander during the Mass and I can better
focus my attention. When I wear the veil it is a constant reminder of where I
am; in the presence of Christ. When my thoughts start to drift to the cute boy
in the pew over then I see my veil out of the corner of my eye and I remember who
I should really be thinking about. My veil focuses my attention on the
When I wear my veil I have to fight the urge to take it off
again. I worry about how I will be perceived while veiling and whether others
are intimidated by my veil or find me strange. I have to remind myself each and
every time I veil that I am not doing it for anyone other than God. I have to
remember that the Mass is not about me, it’s about God.
When I started veiling I thought it would be a sign of my
humility before God, but it has done so much more. It has shown me where I am
weak and where I fail when I am in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. It
has shown me how far my heart is from Christ.
And this is a beautiful thing. By being more aware of these
faults of mine I can better overcome them. When I veil I don’t just realize my
shortcomings, but I choose to conquer them. I can choose to love God. I can
choose to pray with all my heart and mind during Mass. I can choose to focus my
attention on God. I can choose grace in my moments of weakness. I can only
choose these things when I am aware that I wasn’t choosing them before and that
is what the veil has shown me.
A spell you can do what a person is trying to control you through the use of magic and you wish the connection to be severed.
You will need:
Small Black Candle
Frankincense and Myrrh Incense
A circle of tea candles with salt sprinkled on top. Big enough for you to sit in.
SIt inside the circle with your candle incense and Bible. Light the tea lights to secure yourself in a safe space.
Light the incense and open the Bible to Ezekiel 13:20
Light the Black candle and read the verse.
20 “‘Therefore this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I am against your magic charms with which you ensnare people like birds and I will tear them from your arms; I will set free the people that you ensnare like birds.
Repeat as many time as you feel is right.
Blow out the candles and sit in the dark for a moment. Pray. Talk with God. Know that He is with you.
My thoughts are conflicted, not unlike cats and other cats or dogs and their tails, gosh they don’t half drive themselves crazy for their tails! His cheekbones have both welcomed me and drove me away, hugged me tight at night and locked me in a damp cupboard, stole a kiss in the pouring rain and thrown me from a moving vehicle. His sharp cheekbones have the ability to cut my nostrils clean off but to be his friend, mentor, and confidant I have to look past the injuries that could cause me harm, death or worse, expulsion and see that they make his face work. Without them he simply wouldn’t work, we would all call him Benedict Cheekboneless and he would cry, oh lord would he cry. When we nuzzle at night, and yes, sometimes during the day on the sofa, I bleed, bleed from my face, my face spouts blood, red, the colour of passion, not unlike the passion me and Benedict share for replanting dying hydrangeas, he loves them but me, not so much, I prefer pansies but Benedict, always more of a mans man prefers shrubs. He often cradles my bleeding cranium and whispers sweet songs of his youth, Gimme Dat Ding, for instance. He weeps on my wounds, I normally catch infections but it’s never nothing a weeks course of antibiotics can’t handle. The doctor says he has an abnormally dirty tear duct which is what causes the infections but he doesn’t stop because, actually, I don’t know, he probably should actually, it happened five times last month. I will be building up a tolerance of antibiotics and someday, maybe soon, maybe later, I will need them to survive and they won’t work. But the injuries and infections don’t outweigh the good they can do, they recently made Ben give over two hundred thousand pounds to charity, that will go a long way to make sure every child in Iceland has a working MRI scanner, it’s beautiful work he’s doing. So I suppose my feelings are those, yes, I bleed but I bleed so the children of Iceland can MRI things from a young age and that’s okay by me.