m a t t h i a s helvar & n i n a zenik

If Matthias could be kissing Nina, feeling her nip at his lip with her clever teeth, feel her body fitted against his own, hear her release that little sigh in the back of her throat, why would he ever bother doing anything else? Why would anyone? She was sweet as the first rain, lush as new meadows. His hands curled along her back, tracing her shape, the line of her spine, the emphatic flare of her hips.

Kalopsia (M)

» the belief that things appear more beautiful than they are.

Summary: Jungkook’s a photographer who has a knack for finding the beauty in the simple things.
Word Count: 10,623
Genre: Photographer!Jungkook + angst/smut/fluff 
Warnings: Mentions of death 
A/N: Based on this song. This is incredibly long, and I’m sorry.

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Last week I wrote about my metaphorical reading of ‘A Scandal in Belgravia’. But I left out the little case with the hiker and the boomerang. This incident doesn’t just start the story of the ‘woman woman’ … it features prominently two more times during the case. That’s interesting enough to take a closer look, I think. The sexual layer of 'the hiker, the boomerang and the car that backfired’ has been pointed out by LSiT a long time ago. Now, after S4, it looks like some new connections are floating to the surface. Evidence for another layer of this fascinating story? Maybe. 

Some musings on boomerangs and special hair accessoris

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morning and night

fandom: yuri on ice
pairing: viktuuri
summary: inspired by this Day and Night AU by @beanpots but reversed, also on ao3

The shadows of the grove cloaked him.

Silver-edged and soft as sleep, they draped the careless tangle of his long limbs in the lush meadow grass. His head was pillowed on his folded arms and crowned with fallen stars. He flicked his snow-laden gaze up with drowsy languor as Day stalked the edges of his shaded retreat.

‘Come in,’ he lilted, ‘I won’t run away.’

Pale golden light limned a tree with leaves like silver coins. Bronze fingers settled on the deep green ivy twining there, and doe eyes peeped out at him from the greenery. ‘What are you doing here?’ Day chimed softly. He trailed across the small grove, pulling sunbeams in behind him. Dust pixies danced in the light, delighting in the spectrum of colours that he revealed. The Night Ruler watched him calmly as he approached, dipping long, tapered fingers into cool well-water as he waited.

Day crouched beside his indolent form and canted his head to the side. ‘Aren’t you tired? Shouldn’t you be resting at home?’

Night hummed softly. ‘I stayed because I wanted to see you.’ Day reached out a hand and Night tilted his head, allowing himself to be petted. Day sifted his fingers through a stream of starlight, tugging gently. Night all but purred when Day brought his hand back up to his scalp, massaging.

‘You’re working too hard,’ Day admonished him. Night hummed again and chased his retreating touch. Day swept the silver back from the other’s forehead and lightly tapped the whorl in his hair. Night pouted.

‘You know I hate it when you do that.’ He sulked prettily.

Day only smiled back. Night paused, taken by the slow, seeping warmth in the expression. He gazed up at him helplessly, lips parted. Obligingly, Day leaned down and fitted their mouths together. Night reached up to cover the slope of his neck with his hand, fingers splayed possessively. Around them bloomed tiny white star jasmine, in a spill of warm, honey-coloured light. Dawn discarded her pink and grey veils to pull the sun into the sky with streamers of deep orange.

‘Good morning,’ said Night.

‘Good night,’ said Day. ‘Sweet dreams.’

And Night slipped from his embrace, to the place where the moon goes when it is no longer in our sky.

part 2

Where Memories Fade

There is a man I know who wanders
through an open meadow
of lush lavender and thistle memories.
Above his heavy head swirls acrylic
shades and tint and hues of sunlight
dancing with moonshadow clouds.
The white mountains once capped
with pink now shrink into the mute
darkness of the past no more accessible
than fertile valley waters now flowing
in directions other than his own.
Though the harsh and arid history
remains a constant and those scars
will forever narrate an anti-fairytale,
some will find honor in the story that is told
but others will shut the book and walk away.
Still, there is a man who walks a meadow-
Rustling fields of green prairie grass
Flowing fields of golden wheat
And the ocean always on the horizon-
towards the one he has not met.

~ Medicine Mask Poet

The Sun Will Set || Part 2 || BTS Gang AU ||

Originally posted by toniattihesselschward

A/N: YAAAAAY FINALLY PART 2!!!!!! I am so excited about this chapter, because this is where the plot finally gets set into motion. I’ve spent many hours working on it, so I would really appreciate any feedback you’re willing to give me. Seriously. Please. I beg of you. Let me know what you think. 


Summary: After a series of unfortunate events, you’ve found yourself under the care and protection of your city’s most notorious gang: BTS. 

Word Count: 7,349 (I’m so sorry, there’s just a crap ton of information in this chapter)

Genre: Angst, Drama, and some Fluff (but mostly Angst)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue |

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Dash Pilgrimage

Shall we make a run for it?

Across the road,

there are even meadows of lush grass

and cool waters run clean from the hilltops,

rocky rivulets of crisp silver.

Shall I crash my antlers through the thickets

and clear the way?

Step lively and quick, darling!

For the berm knows the sight of falling fur in gathered outlines,

a halo of once life,

it’s own sad monument of the try.

Follow me!

Meet me in the grasslands beside the wood

with the sun on our backs in cool mornings

where the shadows of mountains

no longer chill our yearning bones.

anonymous asked:

can you do a retelling of the myth of persephone/proserpina/not persepolis/proroosoeprrpg? you could just call her persephone though w.e xx

Here is the myth of Not Persepolis. Those of you who want to skip a myth about the underworld getting a dandy makeover should press J on your keyboard now as this is quite a long post. I have no idea why you would want to skip such a bitchin’ story, though. 


Salient historical / literary info is to be found under the Read More, as always. There is a trigger warning for discussion of rape in this Read More.


Nice Guy Hades and Persephone Do Interior Design in Hell


A long time ago, in a quaint little town called Ancient Greece, there lived a goddess named Demeter, who is honestly only a supporting character in this whole saga, but is as good a place to start as any. Basically, Demeter is the goddess of the harvest, which sounds like the lamest thing ever to have on your CV, but when you think about it, it has some definite elements of radness. She’s not just your average Farmer Joe with two wives and a kid, she actually controls all the seasons and shit. All those times you’ve got your hair done and walked outside and immediately got pissed on by rain with the fury of a thousand marathon runners? Blame Demeter. Anyway, Demeter has a smokin’ hot daughter named Persephone, because Greek gods didn’t give two flying fucks about making names easy to type in a hurry, and Demeter and Persephone are totally cool with each other. Like, they’re basically Regina George and her mother in Mean Girls, but if Regina George’s father was also her uncle and her mother was also her aunt, because Greek gods also didn’t give two flying fucks about family trees that more closely resembled family circles.

Anyway, one day, Persephone is frolicking around in the lush green meadows of her earthy home, when suddenly this massive black chariot pulls up alongside her and this pale dude leans out of one of the windows and he’s wearing a fedora and sunglasses and a black tank top and he’s got this tattoo on his left bicep that says ‘DEATH: NOT BAD, JUST MISUNDERSTOOD’ and he looks at her over the top of his sunglasses and says “how you doin’” and Persephone shudders because the air has just got really cold and a bit deathy and also this guy is creepy and a bit deathy too, but he can’t take a hint at all and so he says “I’ve got a really great pick up technique that I learnt from this guy who’s currently banned in Australia, do you want to see it? I’m Hades, by the way, and I’m a nice guy really” and Persephone looks around nervously but she can’t see Demeter, who’s probably busy touching corn and shit, and so she just shrugs, and the guy leans out a bit further from his chariot and literally picks her up and throws her into the seat next to him and then the chariot sinks right down into the ground and suddenly they’re not in the lush green meadows any more, they’re in this horrible craggy wasteland that stinks of decomposition and armpits and there’s no natural light at all. Basically, they’re in a student bedroom. 

. Immediately, Persephone is like “you know what, that pick up line sucked, I am so not charmed by this” and Hades is like “welcome to Hades, bitch” and Persephone is like “did you really name this place after yourself” and Hades is like “who even knows, really, but it’s a fucking rad name, right?” and Persephone is like “are those fingers hanging from the wall?” and Hades is like “yeah, it’s my festive bunting” and Persephone nods slowly and says “and is that lampshade made from a severed head?” and Hades is like “two, actually, I got a dead maid to sew them together into a grotesque parody of that tragedy / comedy mask and I think it’s pretty bitchin’” and Persephone is like “well, that’s all well and good, but do you honestly expect me to live here? I mean, there’s literally a sofa made out of decomposing feet over there”  and Hades pouts and he’s like “that’s my rad make-out sofa, never used but often stroked, but I see your point, maybe this place just needs a woman’s touch” and then he winks and says “you know what else needs a woman’s touch? My dick” and Persephone wrinkles her cute button nose and says “this place doesn’t need a woman’s touch, it just needs some mood lighting and maybe a feature wall” and Hades says “you are honestly making it so hard for me to make dick jokes right now, but you make a valid and salient point, how about I hire you as my interior designer and also my wife?” and Persephone is like “I honestly don’t think I want either of those positions” and Hades shrugs and says “I could make such a good dick joke about that sentence, but I want you to know that I’m also a caring and sensual individual and not just a hilariously laddish cad, so I’ll let it slide this time, but also I’m really upset about it and so I think maybe you should just stay here for a bit and think about what you’ve done”  and Persephone is like “can you elaborate on ‘a bit’ because I have a lunch date at 7” and Hades is like “I’m torn between two hours or forever, which would you prefer? Ha, just kidding, it’s going to be forever, if I’m honest” and Persephone is like “do I get a say in this matter at all?” and Hades is like “obviously not, you’re a woman in Greek mythology and I just kidnapped you in my manly chariot” and Persephone sighs and says “fine, if I’m stuck here, then can you fetch me 6 tins of matte emulsion paint in Coral Canyon 7?” . A little while passes, and over time, Persephone starts to really spruce the place up. Nothing major, she doesn’t totally renovate the kitchen or do anything whacky like move the master bedroom into the lower torture chamber, but pretty soon the whole of Hades is full of the delicious smell of gently smouldering scented candles and there are throw cushions on the sofas of severed heads and the disembodied spirits of the recently departed have started to feel really at home here, and it’s all down to Persephone and her natural eye for feng shui.  .. Meanwhile, up in the lush green meadows of earthly frolicking, Demeter is freaking the fuck out. She’s just sort of wandering about the place and moaning desolately about her missing daughter and bodily autonomy and the best way to harvest crops when you’re so depressed that you can’t even see the point in living any more, and honestly, her bitchy attitude is starting to bring everyone the fuck down. All the harvests are shit, because Demeter’s too depressed to give half a damn, and the seasons become cold and empty, like that mini ice age in Frozen that lasted like 3 days but was still definitely eternal because it was caused by a depressed magic woman. . Eventually, Zeus gets fucking tired of this shit, because he has some hot chicks to lay and the eggs aren’t hatching in the snatch like they oughta because it’s so cold that he can barely get it up, and so he goes to visit Demeter and he’s all “yo sis, what the everlasting shit is going on, I’ve got this really smouldering chick in my bed and I can’t even ravish her any more” and Demeter is like “sorry bro, I guess I’m just really depressed because our brother has kidnapped our daughter and I think he might try and wife her and it’s just too much incest for me to deal with on any level” and Zeus just blinks and says “so you’re my sister and Persephone is your daughter but she’s also my daughter?” and Demeter nods and Zeus says “and Hades is our brother?” and Demeter just nods again and Zeus makes a mental note to invent the Jeremy Kyle show, and then he immediately has an idea.  “Why don’t you quit your womanly bitching and go down to Hades and get your daughter back?” he says, and Demeter is like “hold on, she’s your daughter too” and Zeus is like “yeah, yeah, I’ll cut you a cheque for the child support I missed, now get your peachy lil’ ass down to Hades and claw back our spawn, and I’ll go back to the woman in my bed who is definitely not my sister” and Demeter says “is Hera the hot woman in your bed?” and Zeus puffs out his chest proudly and says “the one and only” and Demeter says “she’s your sister too, bro” and Zeus deflates like a sabotaged condom and goes right into Hades himself. . When Zeus gets into Hades, he’s immediately struck by the recent appearance of a tasteful baroque fireplace that Persephone has erected in the main reception room. Hades serves him a dry martini from an authentic vintage brass platter, and Zeus is all “this place looks great, man, did you get on a Living TV show or something? What’s your secret?” and Hades is like “nothing like that, man, no TV deals, just the unwilling daughter of Demeter” and Zeus laughs nervously and sets his dry martini down on an understated but classic vintage chest of drawers with turquoise beading around the handles and says “yeah, about that unwilling daughter of Demeter thing, is there any way on Earth that you could maybe give her back?” and Hades is like “Hades no, this place has never looked so good, have you seen the bearskin rug in the fingernail room?” and Zeus just presses on, like “Demeter has turned the entire of the upper realm into something even worse than this place used to be, and I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried getting someone in the mood for doin’ the do when the ground is covered in ice, but it ain’t easy” and Hades is like “I don’t care if Demeter turns Earth into a grotesque parody of Manchester, you’re not getting Persephone back, she’s my favourite niece-wife”. . Zeus just sighs and says “Hades, there is only one way that you are ever going to keep Persephone here, and there’s no way you’re going to manage it” and Hades is like “what do I have to do?” and Zeus is like “I’m not telling you, it’ll only upset you” and Hades says “do I have to wade through the deepest oceans in the world with no scuba gear, because I will” and Zeus is like “no, it’s worse than that” and Hades says “do I have to defeat 7 deadly bears with nothing but my bare hands and a Barry Manilow CD, because I will” and Zeus is like “no, it’s worse than that” and Hades is like “do I have to lather myself in oil and wrestle naked with Hera, because it’ll be tough, but I will” and Zeus is like “no, but the only thing that will keep Persephone here - which we don’t want, Hades, so don’t fucking do it - is if she eats or drinks anything while she’s down here. Like, as long as she starves herself, I’ll be able to summon a totally pimpin’ army to come and rescue her, but if you feed her so much as a mouthful of milk? Done. I can’t do anything. So, you know. Don’t do that. That would be supremely uncool” and Hades throws his hands up innocently and says “I won’t feed her anything, I promise, now how about you go and summon that pimpin’ army of yours and I’ll go and help Persephone paint the en-suite flesh pantry? We’re going to be using Cappuccino 5.” . As soon as Zeus has left, Persephone comes around the corner and she asks Hades “who was that nice muscular chap?” and Hades is like “literally no-one, now come over here, you look really tasty and also hungry” and Persephone is like “well, I’ve been here for months and you haven’t so much as offered me a morsel to eat apart from your dick, so what gives now?” and Hades is like “my thin veneer of uncaring masculinity is crumbling around me and I’ve started to give a shit about your well-being, now do you want one of these delicious pomegranate seeds?” and he holds out his hand and offers her the aforementioned pomegranate seeds, and she blinks and says “that is literally all I want in the world” and she eats them and then suddenly Demeter appears and Hades is like “where is Zeus and his pimpin’ army?” and Demeter just roars “I am the army, bitch, now where’s my daughter” and Hades shoves Persephone at her and says “here is your daughter, or should I say, here’s my WIFE” and Demeter looks at Persephone, who has pomegranate juice smeared all over her face like a fucking child, and her heart just sinks because not only has she raised a slovenly child who can’t even eat fruit seeds without making more mess than a Tory document on foreign policy, but she realises that her daughter has eaten in Hades and can never leave, and that’s even worse, though not quite as bad as that time David Cameron made a speech about austerity at a five course meal while wearing a tuxedo.  . Immediately, Demeter calls for Zeus, who appears wrapped in a bed sheet, hair all sexily tussled from being interrupted mid coitus (because Zeus is always mid coitus, unless he’s immediately pre or post coitus) and Zeus looks at Persephone and just sighs heavily and says “Hades, I swear to myself” and Hades shrugs and says “don’t hate the player, hate the game” and Demeter is like “if we don’t sort this shit out soon, I am going to plunge the world into an eternal winter and rename myself Elsa” and Zeus is like “no, don’t do that, Demeter is a rad name and also winter totally kills my game and that’s all a pimp really has, can we maybe come to a compromise here so I can return to the wanton sister in my bed?” and Hades and Demeter just look at each other, one thread of sibling love joining them together for the barest of moments, and nod.  . So, Zeus is like “I can’t change the whole ‘don’t eat the seeds of Hades’ rule - ” and then Hades mutters a dick joke, and the thin thread of sibling love is snapped again - “but I can sort of bend it, like a boss who’s been caught groping his secretary and manages to get 6 months’ suspension and sexual harassment seminars rather than losing his job and his shares in the company. How about we say that Persephone does get to return to the surface, but only for 6 months of the year?” and Persephone pipes up like “what about the other 6 months?” and Zeus says “you stay down here for the other 6 months” and Persephone is like “awesome, I had really great ideas about installing a water feature in the lean-to of arid torture” and Hades and Demeter sort of mumble their agreements and Zeus dissipates in a fog of sex appeal, leaving Persephone and her husband-uncle and her mother-aunt to sort their shit out, which, to be fair, will definitely take more than 6 months.

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By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,

Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.

Where the friends of man and woman do run,

When their time on earth is over and done.

For here, between this world and the next,

Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.

On this golden land, they wait and they play,

Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.

No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,

For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.

Their limbs are restored, their health renewed,

Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued.

They romp through the grass, without even a care,

Until one day they start, and sniff at the air.

All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,

Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.

For just at that instant, their eyes have met;

Together again, both person and pet.

So they run to each other, these friends from long past,

The time of their parting is over at last.

The sadness they felt while they were apart,

Has turned into joy once more in each heart.

They embrace with a love that will last forever,

And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together.

—  Author Unknown.


The Burke family’s presence in Ireland can be traced back as far as the twelfth century, having always resided at their Galway estate.  Teach de Búrca is nestled in lush meadows and heather topped mountains, known for its haunting feeling of isolation.  Despite the family having a great deal of connections, very few are invited to visit the estate.  The last party hosted there was to celebrate Anastasia’s coming of age at seventeen.

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Hair Sniffing Fluff.

Because I had this idea come to me, and well, it’s awfully fluffy. I kind of love it. 

Cullen and Mara were sitting on the plush couch in her quarters looking over reports. It had been Mara’s suggestion, they had both been so busy lately they’d hardly had time to see each other. Cullen, sans armor for once, sat just within arms reach, brow furrowed in concentration. The candles around them were burning low, they’d been working for a few hours. Every so often, Cullen would absentmindedly trace patterns on Mara’s knee, leaving her rereading the same lines over and over again. Her lower back had a dull ache in it from sitting in the same position for so long, but readjusting meant moving further from him, and she didn’t want that.

The relationship was still new to them both, declarations on the battlements just a few weeks old. Mara’s heart still fluttered each time she saw him, memories of his hands twisting her stomach into pleasant knots.

Mara sighed and glanced around the room, in an attempt to regain focus. Her quarters were littered with books and little else. The room was large, and Josephine kept trying to persuade her she needed more furniture to fill it. But she relished in the openness, floor to ceiling balcony doors standing open as often as weather permitted, it felt more like home than anything since she left her clan. Her gaze fell on the bed, this was the first time they had been alone in each other’s company without near-constant interruption. She felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought.

Suddenly, Cullen put his paperwork down and leaned back into the couch smug expression visible, “That’s it, the last one.”

“That’s really not fair,” Mara glowered, her paperwork pile was still several layers high. While his presence had made her work more enjoyable, it had failed to make her more productive.

“It’s not my fault you work slow,” he teased.

“I blame you for distracting me.” A fact he was surely well aware of, judging by the smirk on his face.

He laughed and placed his head on her shoulder, “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to relax here while you finish.”

Mara turned her head quip ready to fire back, when she was met with the full force of the aroma from the head on her shoulder. She breathed deep, savoring the scent as all other thoughts left her. Her face was practically buried in his hair. She knew he did something to style his hair. She had gathered that much from Varric’s nickname of Curly, though she’d never seen his hair natural. Whatever he used to achieve the effect, it smelled amazing. Mara had noticed the smell on her hands after their kiss on the battlements. Her fingers had wound their way through the hair on the back of his head, and she had smelled like him for hours.

Tonight was the first time she’d had the chance to properly appreciate it. The smell took her back to her childhood. The clan had camped in a lush meadow, elderflower and oakmoss had abounded. She remembered following her mother in the bright sunlight picking wildflowers. Her mother’s skilled fingers weaving them into her hair. Cullen shifted beside her, the crunch of the leather pulling her back to the present. He was studying her, expression unreadable.  

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

Mara felt her face immediately go a deep crimson, “Maybe.”

He plucked the report from her hands and pulled her into his chest as he chuckled, “You don’t need to be embarrassed, my love. For the record, I rather enjoy the smell of your hair too”

Mara pushed a hand into his chest to look up at him, “You’re not just saying that?” Her eyes searched his for some hint of teasing, but there was none. His tawny eyes instead looked at her with unspoken affection.

“No,” he kissed her nose and pulled her back into an embrace, chin resting on her head. “If our relationship doesn’t get us hair sniffing privileges with one another, I’m not sure what else it is good for.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. He squeezed his arms tighter pressing her up against his chest. She could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and solid, like the arms that enveloped her.  

Likes and reblogs are love.

I’ve been thinking about how the movies depict the earliest/first Everlark interaction and the latest/last, and the parallels between the two are giving me all kinds of feels.

The first time we see Everlark, Peeta looks at Katniss across a dirty, rain-soaked courtyard. He’s just taken a beaten and is holding two loaves of burnt bread in his arms. Katniss stares back at him from under a craggy tree, clutching her knees to her chest. She’s broken and cold and tired and starved. She sees a glimpse of hope for the first time but is too weak to move, much less acknowledge it. 

The last time we see Everlark, Peeta looks at Katniss across a lush, sunlight-filled meadow. He’s happy and playing with their son, a little toastbaby who leaps into his arms. Katniss watches them from under the thick tree canopy, holding their infant close to her chest. She’s at peace and warm and rested and full. She gazes at all the hope before her and smiles.    

top eight mythology au

1. Loathly by orphan_account (12k)

“The birds told me.”

There was a brief silence.

“The birds.”

“The birds,” Harry confirmed from beneath his red hood, “And the squirrels, but they’re all liars so I didn’t believe them.”

“All squirrels are liars,” Louis repeated faintly.

“Well, not all of them. Just most. It’s not nice to generalise.”

An Arthurian Legend/Faerie AU based on ‘The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle’, wherein Louis is a Knight of the Round Table and Harry is not what he seems.

2. inspire me (remember me) by Clamat_Submissa (10k)

Harry’s a writer stuck in a rut, and Louis’s the Muse who clears his mind.

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Italian photographer Paolo Pettigiani transforms the stunning landscape of Central Park into a salmon pink wonderland.

Pettigiani used an infrared filter to capture the park’s lush meadows, expansive ponds, and huge rocks. You can’t see it, but many digital cameras can. It renders in hues ranging from white to red to purple depending on the camera, the filter, and the processing.

The clever technique provides a unique look at an iconic landscape. “My aim was to show a new colorful, and a little bit candy, vision of Central Park,” he says.

MORE. Infrared Photos Transform NYC Into a Technicolor Dreamland


Wetlands, Wildlife and More

The Tunnel Creek Area of Critical Environmental Concern (ACEC) consists of 73 acres of relic and unique wetland plant communities and is home to a small population of Oregon spotted frogs.  Located on the west side of the Klamath Falls Resource Area, Tunnel Creek is a lush and colorful meadow with dark-green mixed conifer surrounding it. Each season offers a variety of colors. 

Photos by BLMer Alec Bryan.