passion filled

Ô toi ma Rose...

Toi, la jeune fille posé dans le hall d’entrée du bâtiment A. Je t’ai remarqué. Je t’ai remarqué dès lors que j’ai pu poser mon regard sur toi, dès lors que j’ai pu observer les lignes de ton visage. Tu m’as de suite foudroyé, attiré, doux serait l’euphémisme si je disais que j’étais tombé amoureux de toi. Sans même que je t’ai parlé, sans même que je n’ai songé savoir ton prénom, je t’aimais déjà. C’était la première fois que ça m’arrivais, et je crois que je n’avais aucune envie de venir de parler. Aucune envie de venir te parler, de peur que la magie s’effondre, que mes fantasmes s’abandonnent, que mon amour s’envole. Alors je suis resté là, à te regarder, à chaque récréation, à chaque sortie. Sans rien dire, sans jamais ne m’être fait remarqué, sans jamais que mon regard ne puisse croiser le tien. Un beau jour, j’ai paniqué, tu venais en ma direction, tu m’as parlé. Timidement, mais tu m’as parlé, tu m’as adressé la parole. J’en étais heureux, soulagé, comblé. A la manière de Jack, t’aurai été la Rose pour laquelle j’aurai tout donné, tout quitté, à laquelle j’aurai donné ma vie, ma vie toute entière.

Originally posted by trechos-of-books

anonymous asked:

Can we please have more of Empress Rey and Senator Ben. Like the first time she falls in love with him or make love? Not sex but make love? Please...

my poor little heart

It started from afar. They were close up, but the pining—it was distant, detached, discordant. Their bodies met at night but not their emotions. She kept him an arm’s length away and her heart, a lightyear apart. She forgot he existed when courting him late at night, only remembering his personhood when the day roused her to an empty sea of white linen sheets.

After what felt like months, she admitted to herself she stole glances when in the senate house. At the center of the room she deflected attention to him, called him out, made him argue with passion and heat. Fire filled his eyes where only awe reflected back from hers. He was headstrong and disagreeable and altogether bewitching. And she was mesmerized.

It was a pity she’d devoted so much effort to making him detest her.

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I know there’s a love out there that is filled with passion, clarity, and just works out perfectly. I know it exists. I know that it’s possible to meet someone and just know that they are right for you within minutes, maybe even seconds. I know it. There are plenty of stories by people who experienced it and spend their lives proving that the feeling was and continues to be accurate. 

there’s still so many things about you that i haven’t had the pleasure of discovering.

like whether you prefer baths or showers, or what your favourite cereal is, or your favourite kind of tea (i don’t even know if you like tea), or when was the first time you really fought with your parents and what it was that made you scream at each other, or what singular thought can overwhelm you until you’re brought to tears. but all i do know is that i want to find out every single one of those things. so i know whether to run you a bath or a shower after a stressful day, and what cereal to buy for you, and what type of tea to make you when you’re upset (if you even like tea), and what that first real fight with your parents was about so i don’t cross the same line, and i especially want to know what that singular dreaded thought is so i can find the perfect way to cast it from your mind even for a moment or two. because when i promise you forever i intend to keep that promise and i’m not going anywhere as long as you aren’t either. you are the only one for me and i feel so blessed to have found you so early in life. and even though we’re young i swear to beings i don’t even believe in that i would marry you right now if we had a goddamn ring because i will never be able to convey how much i adore you with any string of 26 letters, which leaves only actions. because actions speak so much louder than words but try as i may i still haven’t found the right way to convey through lingering kisses and trailing fingertips how serious i am about our forever. i will stay by your side in sickness and in health til death do us part if you’ll let me and i vow to you that i am never going to leave you the way you’ve been fearing.

so burn those nooses and cap those pill bottles you’ve been picturing because when i promise you forever you better believe i fucking mean it.

—  for @shakespearesspy

anonymous asked:

Polar opposite prompts? Romance-wise, and if some are started from enemies, friends and strangers, better~

-Person A is like the color red. Violent. Rage filled. But passionate. Person B is like the color blue. Calm. Cold. But emotional nonetheless. Theyre polar opposites entirely and yet they’re so attracted to each and don’t know why. It’s like they keep each other together. Keep them sane

-Person A is dark and brooding. Always seeing the negatives to things. Person B is positive and always tries to make Person A smile. Person B hates it. But deep down loves it so much.

-Person A and Person B have always been rivals. Not alike at all. But still, when they work together, compatible.

~Devon

AHHH OKAY I LOVE POLAR OPPOSITES TROPE ITS MY FAV (Along with fake dating lol)

-Person A is the ultimate goody-two-shoes, nerd. They have glasses, and carry around books all the time and have amazing grades. Person B, who is the ultimate slacker (but not really). Both are endlessly pining after the other, much to their friends’ amusement.

-Person A is super musically inclined and Person B is super tone-deaf…like it’s getting to be an issue. They like to sing for/at person A b/c look at that blush is that not the most adorable…wait, why’re you plugging your ears, i’m serenading you

-Person A is a good student (b/c all they do is school) and Person B couldn’t care less if they tried. They get paired together on a project b/c the teacher thinks B could lighten A up while A makes B more studious

-Person A is the sassiest fuck to walk the planet. They have a retort to literally everything. Person B is really quiet and innocent, and they don’t really understand sarcasm.

-Person A is the most athletic, they’re in all the sports (obvi not really but wow look at the power of a hyperbole) Person B is the most uncoordinated ever. One day in gym they play dodgeball. Person A throws a ball at B, expecting them to dodge. B flails for a moment and manages to get themselves hit in the face. A  feels really really bad and agrees to walk B to the nurse and apologizes endlessly on the way and wow i know you hit me but seriously it’s fine look my nose isn’t even bleeding that much anymore i swear it’s worse than it looks. 

~Ebeth (Okay so i really just love writing opposites attract so if you need more pls send them in, even if they’re more specific b/c there’s no such thing as too many details when requesting a prompt, it helps us tailor prompts to your story/idea better!)

Wounds

Your mind and your thoughts, O Mary, steeped in the blood of Our Lord’s Passion, were filled with sorrow as if they beheld the blood flowing from His wounds.

- From St Alphonsus reflections on Mary’s sorrows

94 line appreciation

i know im supposed to be on hiatus but… the 95 line is adored by everyone and for good reasons but i want to see 94 line just as much if not more because im so deprived of it. why have we not started a petition for more hoseok and namjoon interactions yet???

[under a cut for a lot of pics and gifs and aggravated fangirling]

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amazon.com
Frida & Diego: Art, Love, Life

Nontraditional, controversial, rebellious, and politically volatile, the Mexican artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera are remembered for their provocative paintings as well as for their deep love for each other. Their marriage was one of the most tumultuous and infamous in history—filled with passion, pain, betrayal, revolution, and, above all, art that helped define the twentieth century.

Catherine Reef’s inspiring and insightful dual biography features numerous archival photos and full-color reproductions of both artists’ work. Endnotes, bibliography, timeline.

View on Amazon

Okay but a Barduil fic where Bard and Thranduil live in the same small town and are members of rival dad bands that do dad covers of dad rock, and the town fair is coming up and obviously both bands are guaranteed a slot because the whole point of town fairs is to give dad bands their time to shine, but who is getting the better spot

Bard does backup vocals and plays bass and wears plaid and drinks beer and owns a pickup truck that he sort of willingly uses to help people in the neighborhood move (“I fucking hate owning a truck,” he mutters to Sigrid as he helps lead guitarist Dave move yet again, and he realizes only in retrospect that this was the first time he cursed in front of his eldest daughter). He loves the Rolling Stones and the Stone Roses. He owns a lot of concert tee shirts bought from all the concerts and wears them under all that aforementioned plaid. He was full on grunge in the early 90s, except for that period when he discovered night clubs and the city and anyway there’s some pictures of him in a mesh shirt and leather pants that he’s got to make sure his children never find. He’s doing better these days. He bakes, if not well than at least earnestly. He’s active in the elementary school PTA, and he couches Sigrid’s softball team. Everyone’s forgotten that horrible year after his wife died, or at least they don’t mention it to his face, and the old women at the Humane Society keep clucking at him that he should start dating. He takes his kids fishing every other weekend, and lets Bain drink his first beer after they reel in this monster of a trout. Then Tilda reels in an even bigger one and insists on having a beer too. Bard lets her take a sip and then happily finishes off the rest of the can himself. The radio they brought plays “Sweet Home  Alabama.” When Bard mentions how much Thranduil would hate this song, his children all roll their eyes. 

Thranduil is lead vocalist. That’s it. He is a fair hand at the piano (someone’s got to tutor his son) but in the band, he just sings and that should be enough. He’s got classical training, after all: he was in several musicals in high school and college. He gets half the solos at church, and he knows he makes the Lord proud. (”I could get solos at church if I wanted,” Bard mutters, and Sigrid’s like, “Da, we’re Quakers.”) Thranduil’s band covers a lot of Bowie and Joy Division, because they are the edgy dad band. They also do Queen, because Thranduil knows in his heart of heart that he can sing as well if not better than Freddie Mercury. His son Legolas jokes that Thranduil should just start singing “Somebody to Love” every time he and Bard share a room, and Thranduil goes, “Good idea, that way he’ll know to fear my falsetto.” Thranduil has been the president of every PTA he’s been in since Legolas started preschool (”He is a tyrant,” hisses Linda once a year, which is not untrue but she’s just saying that because she’d prefer the tyrant be her), and he hosts a shocking amount of events at his home. A decent amount of Legolas’ class has had a birthday party at Thranduil’s home; after the incident with Tauriel’s family, she practically lives there. It’s fine, Thranduil always demurs when people worry that they are imposing, he loves playing host. If anyone thinks it’s because that house is too big for just the two of them, they don’t mention it to his face. Thranduil’s basement is full of records. As is the main floor, the second floor, and the attic. The only room that doesn’t have records is the wine room, which just has wine. Bard doesn’t like wine. Thranduil knows that because he offered him wine once, perhaps you could claim if you were cynical as a bribe so Bard would give up the prime town fair time slot he has. Bard turned him down in no uncertain terms. So Thranduil’s just saying, if it is to be war between the dad bands, it is entirely Bard’s fault. 

“Sorry that Da’s being so weird about this,” Bain tells Legolas as they walk home together after school. 

Legolas shrugs. “My father’s always weird about everything.” 

Behind them, Tilda scuttles to keep up with the teenagers’ lanky legs. She needs to get home for rehearsal. Da said she could be in the band because she’s getting so good at the tambourine. When Thranduil finds out about this, he will accuse Bard of exploiting his youngest’s cuteness to secure the main act time slot. 

“How dare you,” Bard exclaims, which is not the same as a denial. Thranduil glares fiercely over his agenda for the next PTA meeting. Both men are having more fun than they have had in years. They’ve never had a nemesis before.

anonymous asked:

ok so, for a while now, i've been planning a KageHina Fantasy AU fan-webcomic and i've just finished sketching the prologue but i'm not sure if i should continue. like, i'm just anxious that since i love this AU so much that people won't enjoy/read it and i'll end up disappointed and feeling like i've wasted a lot of my time on it. i just, i don't know what to do, B!!! HELP >o<

Hey babe, take a deep breath for me, would you? You already spent a lot of time on this au, plotting it in your mind and beginning to sketch it…but sadly there’s no other way to know if people would like it than posting it. I know this is hella scary, but it’s clear from the way you talk about this that you’re truly passionate about this and you want the word to see your art. And I’m sure this passion will fill your work and make it awesome! 

I can’t promise you that people will read or enjoy it, but what I can promise you is that time spent on the things you love is never wasted, that if you truly like it and decide to be brave enough to post it, then it’s already the greatest achievement. Do everything for your own enjoyment first, don’t give up even if the the readers won’t come immediately, even if you feel frustrated seeing the notes not going up. Sooner or later a time for your art to be recognize will come, be sure to be there to see it. 

Take care of yourself my petal, and let me know if and when the comic is out, I’d love to read it. 

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Dead Poets Society (1989) 

 “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”