the final supper

  • Belarusian: Вячэра (Viačera)
  • Bosnian: Večera
  • Bulgarian: Вечеря (Vecherya)
  • Croatian: Večera
  • Czech: Večeře
  • Macedonian: Вечера (Večera)
  • Serbian: Вечера (Večera)
  • Slovak: Večera
  • Slovenian: Večerja
  • Ukrainian: Вечеря (Vecherya)
  • Polish and Russian: *looks at each other a bit confused*
  • Polish: You know, it's all fun and games but...
  • Russian: ... /Ужин/ (Uzhin) is a bit shorter...
  • Polish: ... and /kolacja/ has a cute Latin touch on it...
  • Rest of the family: ... what about disowning you both.

anonymous asked:

Hi, i noticed with your comment on one of the OUAT articles that the Hook and Emma stuff was a relief for fans asking? how was the atmosphere on the whole at D23 on the show, season 7 and Emma/Hook?

The atmosphere for the panel was… interesting.  There were people who were very excited to be there and find out what would be happening in season 7 and then there were people there who didn’t seem to really care one way or another. The D23 expo is filled with Disney fanatics but only a small majority of those are fans of OUAT and an even smaller set are fanatics of the show (like I am).

At the beginning of the panel they played the Final Supper scene and Henry’s daughter, Lucy, finding him scene and there were a surprising amount of people who voiced their confusion and shock at what those scenes suggested.  Basically there were people in the panel that hadn’t watched the season finale or hadn’t kept up with the show at all.  At one point the moderator mentioned how big the crowd was but I had been to another panel in that same space the night before and there had been a lot more people at that one.  There were still a bunch of empty seats around where I was sitting and I was only four rows back from the right front side of the stage.

The crowd clapped with some cheers for Adam and Eddy and there were bigger cheers for Colin but that was the highest the excitement levels got.  When they gave their vague answers for what was to come in season 7 the mood in the room was almost underwhelming.  People seemed confused (more of the audience this time) and frustrated with the whole different books but the same characters with different lives aspect.  Adam and Eddy playing it coy and mysterious definitely did nothing to drum up excitement for the next season and the direction the show seems to be heading.  Even Colin couldn’t answer anything about Hook except for the fact that he’s definitely in the next season.

As for Hook and Emma the moderator was the one who brought it up, obviously knowing that a good chunk of the audience was there for Colin and his character’s happiness.  Eddy tried to make a joke about Hook moving on but it fell completely flat and was met with some booing (guilty but not the only one).  They had to quickly reassure us that the show is about hope and that Emma is Hook’s soulmate and that there’s no one else for him.  Ever.  That was greeted with some cheers (also guilty) but still nothing overwhelming.

The highlight of the whole panel was obviously Colin singing Revenge is Gonna Be Mine.  I know a lot of people didn’t realize how very lucky we were and how amazing it was that we got to see that.  I’ve watched a lot of videos of cons and interviews he’s done where he will very, very reluctantly sing a few lines or play the guitar a little.  I’m sure they planned it beforehand but he was still somewhat reluctant and a bit embarrassed to be called on to perform like that.  He had nothing to worry about because it was stellar.

Overall I think Adam and Eddy are going to have to do a lot of fancy footwork to keep the show afloat.  The loss of practically the entire cast, the move to Friday nights, and the continual decline in ratings are all working against them.  The D23 Expo was a chance for them to reassure their existing audience that things will be great and lure new viewers in with new, exciting teases to jump into the show with.  They did neither.  Hopefully they can get something better together for SDCC this weekend.

Only You {Cedric Diggory x Reader}

I am so sorry this took so long. I’ve been writing in little pieces for the longest time and today I finally had to time to sit down and finish. The new semester has been incredibly busy and stressful. 

Request are always open!!! 

Prompt: @thegirlwhoisintoomanyfandoms: Hey! your imagines are awesome, I was wondering if you could write me a Cedric Diggory oneshot with a little controversy and fluff at the end?

Sorry this is so short!!! 

Warnings: angsty as heck 

Originally posted by my-harry-potter-generation

You were cutting through the courtyard on your way to class. It was a bit chilly out but you couldn’t walk through the halls. Cedric would be in there waiting yo walk with you but he would be waiting there for a long time. There was no way you could face him. 

You pulled your robe tighter around your body as the wind whipped around you. You reentered the school successfully avoiding Cedric. You made your way down the hall toward Charms. You were rounding the corner when you felt two lanky arms wrap around your waist.

“Hey…” You knew the voice was Cedric but he sounded hurt. You didn’t answer him. “(Y/N), are you feeling alright?” He spun you around to look you in the eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I feeling great,” you lied. “I’m just tired.” He nodded, I doubted he believed me though. You smiled attempting to reassure him. You slid out of his arms and slipped into your classroom. Cedric looked confused an worried as he turned to walk to his own class. He knew you were upset with him but he had no idea why. 

The day continued as usual until supper. You sat as far away from him as possible. Cedric knew something was wrong now. He racked his brain for reasons you could be mad at him. He thought about it all throughout supper. Finally he decided on just asking you.

Supper ended and you were on your way to your common when Cedric stopped you. He was boyfriend and you loved him more than he could even begin to comprehend but he messed up.

Two nights ago you were making your way to the library to return some books you used for a paper for Snape. You opened the door but something caught your eye. You padded over but all you saw was a girl with her back against the wall. Her body language was flirty as she was clearly talking with someone in the hall. You couldn’t see the person she was walking with very well so you jsut walked into the library. You returned your books and began to make your way out when you spotted Cedric at the end of one of the shelves. He was walking backwards until the girl you saw in the hall came into view. You were immediately crushed to nothing as you walked toward the doors. 

That was two days ago, you were trying to let it slip your mind but it kept replaying in your mind. Had he really been cheating on you, it seemed so unlike him? Cedric had dragged you down the hall, away from everyone.

“What’s up with you today?” He looked at you with so much concern in those eyes you couldn’t meet with your own. Your heart hurt and it was hurting him. 

“I’m just kind of tired. That’s all I swear,” you said staring at your feet.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He held both your hands now, rubbing his thumbs over them.

“I saw you, you know. I saw you with her.” Cedric was confused for a moment before realization hit him like a freight train. He started to laugh. You punched him in the chest.

“You think its funny!? I can’t- I can’t believe you.” Tears began to brim your eyes. He continued to laugh.

“You really thought I was cheating on you? Cheating on you? With Pansy Parkinson? (Y/N), I love you but that is the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.” You stared in shock. “She was outside the library and she said she needed help finding something in the library. I knew what she was planning but I helped her and then I got out of there. She wasn’t exactly happy when I actually helped her find a book.” You hung your head with regret. He was right about it being slightly ridiculous even though you did see them together.

“I’m sorry. I should have trusted you.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you. (Y/N), I love you so much you are the only person in my love that I love the way I love you. You’re the only one for me and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else in this entire school, in the entire wizarding world! I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled back just enough to see his face. Your hands cupped his face and he kissed you long and passionately. Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. You both pulled away only when neither of you could breath. 

“You’re the only one, (Y/N).”

Cooking Lessons and the Future

First off I wanted to say that this is is something that took on a life of itself and was not the original ending I had planned out, but it just flowed and this is where it ended up. Second, this is the last fic in my perfect date series unless someone makes a request for another. Tagging @blindbae for her love of Iggy and @alicemoonwonderland for requesting the idea. @itshaejinju I’ll be working on your request momentarily

Long days were becoming the norm for you as your career as a trauma nurse started to take off. Your days were filled examining patients and helping the doctors with extreme precision. The trauma bay was no joke as you tended to plenty members of the Crownsguard and civilians alike. Someday you were going to go back to school and earn your medical degree. Maybe it would happen sooner rather than later.

With those longer days came seeing Ignis less. You missed relishing his scent of Jasmine and Ebony as you woke from a deep slumber. You missed watching him cook your favorite meals. You missed the feeling of his gloveless hands trailing down your body as you made love. You just missed him. His job as the prince’s advisor kept Ignis quite busy as well and it pained you how rarely the two of you saw each other.

As you unlocked the door of your apartment and crossed the threshold, a smile came across your face. Ignis moseyed around your kitchen as he put groceries away that he had just purchased. Obviously, your fridge and pantry were looking sparse. You admired the way he looked after you like that. You probably would have died by now if it weren’t for your loving boyfriend.

“Good afternoon my darling. How was your day?” Ignis questioned as you removed your shoes and purse from your body

Keep reading

Gestures of Love (Words of Love Pt. 3)

Warnings: fluff, as per usual. and maybe some angst? *gasp*

WC: 3,101 (( wow upgrade ))

AN: (Y/F/I): Your First Initial, (Y/D/N): Your Dad’s Name

AU: Hamiltime

1 2 4 5 Masterlist

If someone were to tell you a few months ago that you would be exploring the town freely and being courted by a handsome young gentleman, you wouldn’t believe them and you would most likely slap them for making such a forward accusation.

You still couldn’t believe it yourself.

You went from being constantly confined to the four walls of your house, to exploring the town, to being courted than none other than Philip Hamilton. To say that is was a dream come true was an under exaggeration.

Keep reading

Odd for us to meet like this

Author’s Note: What happens when you’re pissed off about the way someone died in a movie? You write (modern) AU fanfiction about their non-canon pairing you’re in love with. Hope you enjoy my little bit of Figrid. :)

The worst part of Sigrid’s day was, she had to say, first getting to work. The diner was freezing in the early morning before it opened, and as she was the one who opened it, it was miserable. The cook – Maria – arrived soon after her, but for that first half hour or so of filling salt and pepper shakers and wiping down tables, Sigrid wondered why the hell she took the job. And then she remembered that her da’s salary as a transporter of goods was not quite enough to pay all the bills and that was why she wasn’t going to college like most nineteen year olds. She got a bit sad when she remembered that. But those feelings were secondary to there actually being food on the table and heat in the house, so she tried not to let it weigh her down too much. Besides, perhaps her siblings might be able to go to one day if she made enough money.

She snapped out of her daze when Maria called her name.

“Sig, could you flip on the ‘open’ sign? It’s 7.”

Sigrid nodded, heading over to the window. She took a moment to look outside. The weather was as cold and rainy as it had been on her miserable walk over, but then that’s how it always was in Laketown.

It was barely five minutes later that people started showing up in search of breakfast. Sigrid put on her apron and a falsely cheerful smile, all while mentally counting down the hours until her lunch break.

The morning went by as quickly as was possible, while waiting tables and restraining from killing sleezy patrons who tried to feel her up. Maria often offered to loan her a frying pan if she needed it, but Sigrid declined. Mostly because hitting their weasely manager Alfrid, who was just as bad as the patrons, would be a sure way for her to lose any chance of employment at all in Laketown, since he worked directly for the Mayor, who in turn owned the diner. But it would have felt nice, since Alfrid was the biggest skeeve Sigrid had ever met. Hitting him with a cast-iron frying pan would have at least been entertaining for her and Maria.


Going home from work that night, Sigrid stopped at the grocer’s to pick up some bread for supper, and mentally went over what she’d have to do. Tilda would probably need help with her math homework, and Bain would want her to look over his essay. Then there was the knitting she did, both to keep her family in socks and hats and to calm her after a stressful day. She was just leaving the store, her mind somewhere less rainy, when she collided with something solid.

At first she thought she’d run into the door, which she’d until then believed was automatic, but when an arm wrapped around her waist to stop her from falling backwards, she became fairly certain that she’d run into a someone instead of a something. Which was possibly more embarrassing; she wasn’t entirely clear on that point.

“Oh, sorry! You alright?” The voice she assumed was connected with the arm sounded friendly and male. Sigrid brought her head back down from the clouds (where it was sunny, and Alfrid was being hit over the head with frying pans and scrubbing the floors on his hands and knees for once).

She found herself looking at a man, probably a few years older than herself. He was about two inches shorter than her, but his shoulders were a good deal wider and he had short blond hair and matching beard.

“I-I’m fine, thanks,” she stammered. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. My fault.”

“Eh, equally mine,” he said, a crooked smile on his face.

“Uh, you gonna let her go now, Fee?” a second male voice asked, sounding amused. Sigrid only just then noticed another young man, this one with dark hair and whiskers. She blushed heavily, as did the blond man, who let her go then.

“You sure you’re alright?” the man said, sounding concerned.

“I’m fine; I’ve had far worse than running into someone,” Sigrid assured him, shifting the bread in her arms.

“If you’re sure then,” he said, smiling kindly at her.

“I am, thanks,” Sigrid said. “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” the dark haired one cut in, sounding amused. Sigrid nodded once at them, and then was on her way again, not paying attention to the way both men looked after her as she walked away.


“Nicely done Fili,” his brother mocked him, laughing far more than Fili believed was strictly warranted.

“Shut up Kili,” Fili said without preamble, moving inside the store. He looked down at the list that had been growing in size since they’d arrived in Laketown the week before and began grabbing things.

“She was very pretty,” Kili continued, impish grin that had always gotten him both into and out of trouble firmly in place.

“Shut up Kili,” Fili said, grabbing a bag of apples.

“All blonde and womanly and pretty blush.”

“Kili, if you don’t shut up, I will strangle you with an extension cord, and Thorin might even thank me for it.”

“You’re no fun, Fili,” Kili grumbled, but he left off speaking.

However, Kili wasn’t wrong. Fili had certainly noticed that the girl was pretty. Blue eyes, hair like gold; could he be blamed for wanting to keep talking to her?

“Bit of an awkward way to meet someone though,” he muttered to himself while Kili was occupied with something else.

He wanted to know what her name was. He’d liked the feel of his arm around her waist after he’d stopped her from falling, though she’d probably been embarrassed by it. Not that he blamed her; she’d plainly not been watching where she was going. Which wasn’t to say that he had been either. Too busy with thoughts of their latest job and whether it would be enough to pay their bills and send some of the money home to their mother.

Fili wondered what the pretty blonde had been thinking about.


When Sigrid got home, Bain was trying to help Tilda with her math, but that had always been Sigrid’s area of expertise, so the younger two weren’t having much luck. With promises to help after she got supper going, Sigrid listened for messages on the machine, and was saddened when one from her da told her that he’d be home late that night. An even less pleasant message was from Alfrid, telling her she needed to come in the next day, which should have been her day off. She grumbled to herself about the loss of time off, but rationalized that at least she’d be making more money. Still, her fantasy of smacking Alfrid over the head with a frying pan was looking more and more appealing.

When she finally got supper in the oven, she sat down at the table to help Tilda. The nine year old was glaring at the problems unhappily by then, and Sigrid fought to hide a smile.

“Alright, Tilda, what’s the problem?”

“Math is stupid,” Tilda grumbled.

“Maybe true,” Sigrid said with a small smirk. “But that’s not the relevant problem here. What is it that you can’t figure out?”


At Fili’s house, he and Kili ate takeout and watched kickboxing. Kili was far more into it than Fili, who was more preoccupied with looking at the plans for the house they were building.

“Come on Fee,” Kili tried to persuade him. “Even Thorin isn’t working right now.”

“You don’t think our uncle is looking over the plans the night before we start?” Fili asked, doubtful.

“Okay, true, but, you are not Thorin,” Kili pointed out. “For one thing you’re a lot blonder than him.”

“Aren’t you observant,” Fili snorted.

“And you know who else is blonde? The girl from the grocer’s today.”

Fili sighed, knowing he was in for a long night of bad segues.


The next morning Sigrid got ready for work and made Bain and Tilda’s lunches. Technically they could do it for themselves, but she liked to save them the trouble, since she was up early enough anyway. She was just finishing that when her da entered the kitchen. Bard Girion was grim-faced as usual, but he managed a smile for his oldest daughter.

“Thought today was your day off, Sig?” he asked, looking down at her in concern.

“It was, but Alfrid left a message asking me to come in last night. It’s not that big a deal,” she replied, shrugging it off as though it were nothing. Her da hugged her again and Sigrid allowed herself a moment of comfort.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, Sig. You deserve better than that.”

“I’ll be alright, Da,” Sigrid said, finally with a real smile. “Where are you headed today?”

“Just across, to Esgaroth. I’ll be back in time for supper tonight.”

“Good. I’ll make stew,” she said, pleased.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to work.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Sigrid protested.

“And that’s where you’re wrong. Let’s go; it’s on the way to the docks anyway.”

While she could have pretended like she was indifferent, Sigrid was extremely pleased for the time with her da all to herself. Sometimes he took Bain out on the boat with him, and he always made time to tuck Tilda into bed when he was home to do it. Sigrid had to content herself with the occasional walk to work. But that was okay, so long as he was around.


Fili woke up and showered before Kili, ensuring he would get the bigger share of the hot water. (It was the little things in life, after all.) He then ingested the vile instant coffee they’d bought the day before, and resolved to get some from somewhere that was not their kitchen. When Kili joined him, dark hair still wet, Fili received a rough punch to the shoulder.

“Son of an orc,” Kili grunted, only making Fili smirk.

“Wakes you up better than this, I think,” he said, holding up his mug. “I don’t care that we’re poor, we’re getting something better. There’s got to be a decent coffee shop somewhere in this town.”

“Think I heard of one,” Kili said, perking up a bit. “The Master’s, or something like that.”

“Oh, real subtle,” Fili snorted. “No accounting for taste. Still though, long as the coffee’s good, owner can call himself whatever he pleases.”

“You’re a man of simple pleasures, aren’t you Fee?” Kili asked him in amusement. “Good coffee, good beer, pretty blondes.”

“Oh, for Mahal’s sake!” Fili grumbled. “You ever plan on letting that go? She couldn’t have been older than nineteen.”

“Like you’re an old man,” Kili scoffed.

“I don’t even know her name.”

“Laketown’s small enough to mend that,” Kili retorted with a wink.


Sigrid opened the diner as she usually did. She filled the salt and pepper shakers and loaded napkin dispensers. When Maria arrived, together they did some prep work for later. At 7, she flipped on the ‘open’ sign. For about half an hour she looked after the few patrons who showed up, keeping her ‘I have to be nice to you’ smile firmly plastered on. It was not going to be a fun day.

At 7:30, Sigrid didn’t notice who walked through the door before taking a seat at the counter.

“Sig, at the bar,” Maria said. Sigrid nodded in thanks and turned. She was not prepared to see the blond man and his dark haired companion from the day before. While she felt awkward, she couldn’t exactly just leave them there.

“Can I help you?” she asked, walking over. The blond she’d run into looked at her like she was a ghost, while the brunet looked as though Christmas had come early.

“We meet again,” the brunet said cheerfully.

“So it would seem,” Sigrid said, a reluctant smile on her face. “Seriously though, what can I get you?”

“Well, ma’am, my brother is dying for some coffee that doesn’t taste like it was filtered through his sock. As am I, to be honest.”

“Two coffees, coming right up.”

“Wait!” The sudden exclamation made Sigrid turn. It appeared the blond had found his tongue. “Sorry, but what’s your name?”

“Sigrid. Sigrid Girion. And you, sir?”

“Fili Durin,” he replied, the same crooked smile she’d seen the day before adorning his features.

“Nice to actually meet you, Fili Durin.” She turned away again, features softening somewhat.

Perhaps the day wouldn’t be so bad.

I’m a sucker for the “running into each other – literally” meet-cute. Also, I know Esgaroth and Laketown are the same place, but I needed a name, and this is my verse to do with as I please. 

Creepypasta #392: Cold War Chills

I bought a house about 5 years ago, a fixer-upper with a few flaws, but enough charm to override any complications.

Mostly all of the work involved was going to be updating old fixtures and clearing out what seemed like a couple decades worth of unattended normal maintenance (mowing, clearing out weeds, vacuuming, etc.).

Apparently the story was that the family had gone on vacation sometime in the 1970s and went missing. The brother of the father inherited the estate, and was supposed to upkeep or sell the home but ended up coming to see the house once and not caring after that. It made sense because I bought the home based on price rather than features, and I basically told my real estate agent to, “Look around for something on the market for a while or forgotten about, because I didn’t have the funds to buy something new.”

I guess the house was under ownership by the bank or police or something, and probably tossed aside considering it was kind of out in the middle of nowhere and wouldn’t be an eyesore for people around it.

I fixed up the house to the best I could, and I was proud of it. It looked like something straight out of the 60s, wood paneling, bright colors, but I liked that style, so I was alright with it.

I invited some of my friends over to have some beers, a sort of small house-warming thing to celebrate my seemingly great purchase.

We were in the backyard grilling, having a good time, and my buddy says “Hey, whats that hatch over there?”

I knew what he was talking about, I had mowed around it previously and wondered the same thing. I came up with the idea that it went to a septic tank or some sort of sewage system. It was locked, and would remain so if the sewage part rang true.

I remember telling my friend something like, “Oh, I think it’s a septic tank or sewage or something.” It made sense because I lived so far out, using city sewers was out of the question.

My buddies, being diabolical bastards, disagreed and started saying stuff like “It’s proly a hole to a sex dungeon,” and “C'monnnnn, see what it is.” Then someone mentioned a fallout shelter, and it kind of clicked at that moment.

The house is from the 60s, people were getting shelters left and right, it probably was a fallout shelter. I’m really interested in fallout shelters, so my interest was peaked.

I got a set of bolt cutters out of my shed and walked back to join my friends, which had now gathered around the hatch expectantly.

I chopped the standard key lock off and opened the hatch door. It smelled terrible, one of the worst damn smells I have ever witnessed. Everyone took a step back and gagged.

“Oghhhh. I gotta go in just to see what the fuck that smell is now.” One of my friends said, putting his shirt over his mouth and nose.

He climbed down the ladder and pulled out his keys which had a small flashlight on them. We looked as he shone his light around and immediately scrambled back up the ladder.

He fell to his knees right outside of the hatch and threw up immediately. I remember someone made a joke about how he never could hold his alcohol and someone asking “Smells worse down there?”

He kind of just looked up at us and backed away from the hatch more.

We knew something was up at this point because he would have reacted to something we said. He was very pale and very scared looking.

I grabbed the light from his keychain and started climbing down the ladder. Something was down in this hole that scared my friend, and it was on my property, so I really wanted to get rid of it or at least know what it was. One of my other friends followed with a zippo and I waited for him to reached the ground with me.

It was a fallout shelter, I could see beds and empty food cans and jars from where my light touched as I waited for my friend to get situated.

Then I saw something that scarred me for the rest of my life.

It was table, and at the table sat 4 people, or what people looked like after years of decomposition. A mother sat with a plate in front of her, slumped over in her chair, her hair bedraggled and thinning, falling on the dusty white tablecloth that adorned the table.

She looked mummified, her skin was browned and leathery looking. Her eye sockets recessed, dried, white, cloudy orbs sat loosely inside them.

A little girl, only identifiable by the dress she wore, had fallen over the table, resting on the edge, jaw ajar. Her hair also flaked and grayed over the table, her skin as if someone had vacuum sealed it to her bones.

A boy, maybe a little older than his sister, sat upright with is hands on the table as if he was still waiting to be excused from supper.

Finally, a father, sat at the head of the table. His head tilted back in his chair, his arm hung down to his side, holding a revolver in his hand. A hole blown out of his head. This moment told a story, but now it was all just a harrowing sight.

Me and my friend rushed out of the shelter and I called the cops.

Over the next couple of days, a few officials came to my house and continually examined the scene and took in the bodies.

The mother, son, and daughter all died from poisoning, as I came to learn, and the father obviously killed himself.

Apparently the decomposition showed that they died sometime in the early to mid 60s. Examiners offered up the idea that they probably got the shelter secretly, and lied to their family about having shelter. They probably got in there during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and the father probably got scared and thought this was the best plan of action.

An older man came by a few weeks later, and claimed to be the brother that was supposed to take care of the house. He explained that he and his brother were never really that close as children. He also explained that once the property became his, he too opened the hatch and smelled the stench and assumed it was a septic tank. he said he put the lock on the hatch and he felt very guilty about it, locking in the bodies of his relatives like putting them in a grave. He explained that the home was not worth his time because he lived rather far away, as most people did, and no one was going to buy it anyway.

Then he said something that really bothered me and that I still think about. “David and Michelle were a fine couple. And Junior, Mary, and Lily were such beautiful children.”

I didn’t think about it until after he left. There were only the bodies of 2 children in the shelter, but he said that there were 3 children.

I went back down into the shelter and noticed that there was a fifth chair at the table. I called the examiners and asked them about how many bodies they recovered and they confirmed my suspicion. They only recovered 4 bodies, 2 adults, 2 children.

Credits to: CM1288

Labyrinth on the portico of the cathedral of San Martino at Lucca,Tuscany, Italy

The Latin inscription:  Hic Quem Creticus Edit. Daedalus Est Laberinthus. De Quo Nullus Vadere. Quivit Qui Fuit  Intus. Ni Theseus Gratis  Adriane. Stamine  Jutus

Description from Wiki:  "The labyrinth or maze is embedded in the right pier of the portico and is believed to date from the 12th or 13th century. Its importance is that it may well pre-date the famous Chartres maze, yet is of the Chartres pattern that became a standard for mazes.

The rustic incised Latin inscription refers to ancient pagan mythology: “This is the labyrinth built by Dedalus of Crete; all who entered therein were lost, save Theseus, thanks to Ariadne’s thread” (Hic Quem Creticus Edit. Daedalus Est Laberinthus. De Quo Nullus Vadere. Quivit Qui Fuit  Intus. Ni Theseus Gratis  Adriane. Stamine  Jutus").“ Photo: Myrabella / Wikimedia Commons / CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

More about  Lucca Cathedral from wiki:  "Lucca Cathedral  (Italian: Duomo di Lucca, Cattedrale di San Martino) is a Roman Catholic cathedral dedicated to Saint Martin in Lucca, Italy. It is the seat of the Bishop of Lucca. Construction was begun in 1063 by Bishop Anselm (later Pope Alexander II).

Of the original structure, the great apse with its tall columnar arcades and the fine campanile remain. The nave and transepts of the cathedral were rebuilt in the Gothic style in the 14th century, while the west front was begun in 1204 by Guido Bigarelli of Como, and consists of a vast portico of three magnificent arches, and above them three ranges of open galleries adorned with sculptures.

In the nave a small octagonal temple or chapel shrine contains the most precious relic in Lucca, the Holy Face of Lucca (Italian: Volto Santo di Lucca) or Sacred Countenance. This cedar-wood crucifix and image of Christ, according to the legend, was carved by his contemporary Nicodemus, and miraculously conveyed to Lucca in 782. Christ is clothed in the colobium, a long sleeveless garment. The chapel was built in 1484 by Matteo Civitali, the most famous Luccan sculptor of the early Renaissance.

The tomb of Ilaria del Carretto by Jacopo della Quercia of Siena, the earliest of his extant works was commissioned by her husband, the lord of Lucca, Paolo Guinigi, in 1406.

Additionally the cathedral contains Domenico Ghirlandaio’s Madonna and Child with Saints Peter, Clement, Paul and Sebastian; Federico Zuccari’s Adoration of the Magi, Jacopo Tintoretto’s Last Supper, and finally Fra Bartolomeo’s Madonna and Child (1509).

There is a legend to explain why all the columns of the façade are different. According to the tale, when they were going to decorate it, the inhabitants of Lucca announced a contest for the best column. Every artist made a column, but then the inhabitants of Lucca decided to take them all, without paying the artists and used all the columns.”

D.I.Y drawing book cover ✍🏻
It was so easy to make and I think the final product is supper cute .😊😊😊
Hope you like it❤️❤️❤️


❝ …The Casino was indeed a charming place for a quiet rendezvous. The low background music was perfect for a romantic dinner for two. We dawdled over the menu and finally ordered our supper, and then Fred asked me to dance. I made the happy discovery that as wonderful a dancer as Fred was on the stage, he was equally superb as a partner on the dance floor.

Part of the joy in dancing is conversation. Trouble is, some men can’t talk and dance at the same time. They lose their rhythm. Fred was a delightful conversationalist and we chatted away. He really knew how to lead a girl around the floor and used each rhythm to introduce different footwork. Mind you, there was nothing showy about Fred’s ballroom dancing, it was understated and elegant. You could put yourself in his hands and trust to his feet.

We returned to our table and found our food waiting. It was cold, but we didn’t care. We were having such a good time. We got up to dance again and moved toward the bandstand to compliment Eddy Duchin on the music.

Eddy was pleased and looked at us with a twinkle in his eye as he said,

”Fred, you and Ginger really look good together.”

Fred laughed and put us into a three-second whirl while Eddy smiled approvingly. Too soon, Duchin’s band began its goodnight tune, signaling that the evening was over. I felt as though I could have danced all night. Within ten minutes we were on our way home in his handsome Rolls-Royce town car.

Like an aperitif, Fred’s well-trained chauffeur drove us through the park, so we could talk a wee bit more before we said adieu.

Finally, the car stopped in front of my building. The chauffeur got out and walked around the car, waiting on the sidewalk near the trunk for a signal as to when to open the car door. He must have waited about five minutes!

Inside the car, Fred had me in his arms, and the kiss that we shared in that five minutes would never have passed the Hays Office code!

- excerpts from Ginger Rogers’ autobiography.

Middle Earth: Chapter 1

{This is a crossover between Fairy Tail characters and The Hobbit story. The story will NOT be exact, as I am putting my own twists into it. Pairings: mostly gajevy, with nalu, jerza, and gruvia. Enjoy!}

In the small little land of Magnolia, you could find the beauty of vast meadows and peaceful forests. Dwelling throughout the meadows were small creatures that we know of as hobbits. Hobbits were a short race, standing no taller than four foot three. The souls of their feet were quite leathery, meaning that they had no use for shoes, and clusters of bushy hair covered their feet to keep them warm from the chilly air that would invade the land from time to time. Among the hobbits, only one hobbit family was known for having a history of adventure. Only one hobbit family had a want for adventure, and this was the McGardens.

Levy McGarden was the youngest in her family, being of only twenty-six years of age. She was still a young lass, still able to seek the adventures that her ancestors once did. In fact, she wasn’t even of age yet, still an adolescent. But that was not the desire of Levy McGarden, oh no. She wasn’t interested in risking her life for the sake of having an adventure. She only wanted to puff her pipe, read her enormous collection of books, and enjoy her numerous meals. That was the desired life of Levy McGarden.

Speaking of Levy McGarden, the young lass was sitting outside of her small hobbit hole, the common dwelling place of a hobbit. Perfect smoke circles emerged from her small pink lips, which twitched upwards in satisfaction. She was proud of her smoke circles, being better at it than her older brothers. Her reasoning of success was said to be due to her pipe, which was handed down to her from her great grandmother, Frita McGarden.

“I see that you’ve gotten better at your smoke circles, Miss McGarden,” an old, wise voice spoke suddenly.

Somewhat startled, the blunette glanced up from her wooden chair, spotting a very familiar face. “Makarov! What brings you here, old friend?”

The short man, only an inch taller than the average height of a hobbit–a couple of inches taller than Levy McGarden, smiled down at the young girl. “I have a proposition for you, Miss McGarden. I am going on an adventure with a group of dwarves, and I would like for you to come along with me.”

“O-Oh, well…I’m not like Grandfather or Great Grandmother. Adventure isn’t of anything in my favor, not to be rude good sir. I bid you and your friends a safe and fun journey, however!” she said politely.

It was in her nature to always be polite towards anyone. Rudeness was not apart of her agenda, as it never would be.

Makarov sighed somewhat, taking a glance towards the circular wooden door that led into the McGarden hobbit hole. Raising his staff to aim towards the door, a bolt of light appeared from the staff, zapping a mark upon her door. “I will return tomorrow at dusk, and the mark will allow the others to know of your location.” With that said, the old mage began to walk away.

“The others? Don’t you think that that would be a bad idea, Makarov?!” Levy squeaked out towards him, hoping that he would hear.

“Adventure is what you truly seek!” he bellowed back at the female hobbit, disappearing from the area.

Shaking her head, Levy McGarden decided that it would be best to eat her final supper for the night. Heading inside, she only opted for an apple, three slices of pie, and a bowl of porridge–a small meal for a possibly still growing hobbit girl. After her meal, she washed up quickly, scrubbing away the stressful day, before curling into her small hobbit bed. As sleep invaded her conscious mind, she wondered just who exactly where these friends of Makarov’s.


The sound of a loud, pounding noise woke Levy McGarden from her sleep, a shrieking sound emerging from her lips. Her sudden fright caused her to fall out of bed, hitting her head on the floor. Regaining composure, she quickly dusted her clothes off, slipping her floral tunic over her white button-down shirt and red skirt, which was held up by suspenders. The person on the other side continued to pound loudly, a headache forming for Levy. Quickly rushing towards the door, she opened it to reveal two dwarves. One was skinny with thin orange side burns to match his orange hair. The other was slightly shorter, with a much larger frame. His black beard was also very thick.

“I’m Jet!”

“And I’m Droy!”

“You’re so pretty!” they both gushed out dreamily.

The little hobbit couldn’t help but to blush and smile. “Oh, why thank you. Please come in?”

The duo wasted no time in coming in, heading straight towards Levy’s pantries.

Closing the door, Levy was about to make the two a fresh kettle of tea when a knock was again heard, though it was luckily much softer this time. Opening the door, she discovered three more dwarves. One was female, with side burns and long, scarlet red hair. Another was just a youngling, with light blue hair and a happy face. The last was a dwarf with pink hair that possessed three long braids slithering down his back from his otherwise short, spiky hair, his unconnected mustache and beard matching the color of his pink hair.

“Good morning, Miss McGarden. I am Erza, and the little one is Happy. The moron next to him is Natsu,” the female spoke in an authoritative voice.

“Wait, I was told that you all were coming this even–” but she was cut off when the trio rushed passed her to join the other two in eating any morsel that they could find within the hobbit hole.

Sighing, she was about to close the door again when the clearing of a throat interrupted her. Glancing up, she noticed that two more had arrived. The cheerful one had small braids protruding from his otherwise short hair on either side of his face, his sideburns and mustache a dull blonde color. The monotone one had longer black hair, only a small bit of stubble on his chin. His face was certainly quite clean for a dwarf.

“I am Sting, Miss Levy,” the cheerful one introduced himself, walking past her towards the others.

“And I am Rogue,” the other said quietly, following his arrival partner.

Sighing, Levy quickly shut the door. Rushing towards the kitchen, she gasped at the mess that the seven had already made. “Oh my! Please do be careful to keep my kitchen clean!”

“We need more ale!” one called out, but Levy wasn’t sure which one.

She nodded. “Ah, yes! Right away!”

Scurrying to her cellar room, she obtained three new bottles as quick as she could before making her way back towards the kitchen. When she arrived, she noticed that two new faces joined the crowd. One was a very tall dwarf, his thin beard matching his golden blonde hair. Another wore a helmet to cover his face, so she never did truly see what this one looked like.

“You wouldn’t answer the door, so I welcomed myself in. My name is Laxus, and the one beside me is my friend Bickslow,” the tall blonde said, a rude tone hinted within his voice.

Levy ignored the rudeness, smiling politely. “Well, make yourself at home you two. I have more ale!”

The cheers of more drink rang throughout the hobbit hole, growing louder as everyone got a taste of fine ale.

Again, more knocking was heard, the blunette nearly ready to sob due to the stress that was building inside of her. Walking towards her door, she opened it to reveal two more dwarves, both very tall to even be considered a dwarf. One had a dark skin tone, his hair parted in various sections and braided. The other possessed an incredibly thick white beard, two large axes carried upon his back.

“Good evening, Miss Levy. I’m Pantherlily, but you can refer to me as simply Lily,” the dark man introduced himself in a very deep voice, smiling kindly down at the young hobbit.

“And I’m elfman. Adventures are MANLY!” he bellowed out, causing Levy to cover her ears.

“Excuse him, if you don’t mind. Makarov and Gajeel were only a minute or two behind us, so they will be here shortly. And, much to your relief I assume, they will be the last arriving members,” Lily explained, following Elfman to the dining table.

Levy did indeed sigh in relief, glad to not have anymore hungry mouths to feed. She knew that she would have to pay a visit to the market after this whole ordeal was over. She stood by the door, waiting for any signs of Makarov and the last dwarven guest. It wasn’t long before she saw the familiar face of Makarov, followed by a entirely new face, a face that Levy found to be quite handsome. As they walked closer towards her little hobbit hole, she could begin to make out the details of this dwarf’s face. His hair was very dark brown almost black, and it was pulled back–save for the long strands flowing on each side of his face. His skin was tanned, but not as dark as Lily’s, and he possessed a very thin beard. Instead of eyebrows, he had iron piercings that seemed to act as a substitute. In fact, he had many piercings all over his face. His ears each had five piercings, and his nose had two piercings on each side. He wasn’t as tall as Lily or Elfman, but he came in at a close third–perhaps four foot ten at the most.

“Ah, Levy! So good to see you again!–though we did see one another yesterday. How are the others fairing?” the wizard asked as he approached the hobbit hole, Gajeel keeping any speeches or comments to himself.

She gave him a very stern look. “Makarov, you said that they would not be here until this evening! It is hardly ten in the morning! And now I will not be able to eat my first or second breakfast!”

Makarov chuckled. “Ah, hobbits and food. I should know by now that getting in the way between you and your food is a life threatening mistake, but no matter. These matters are very pressing, and the group managed to arrive earlier than I had originally expected. What was I do, eh?”

“Alright, I forgive you then. Come inside, I suppose,” she said softly, stepping aside for the two to step in.

“Oh, my apologies! This is Gajeel, King of the dwarves!” Makarov announces.

“My only desire right now is to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and rid my people of Acnologia,” he mumbled out, walking past Levy and standing by her fireplace.

Makarov sighed. “You must forgive Gajeel. He has been through so much–seen so much destruction.”

She nodded. “Ah, of course,”

“Now, Miss McGarden. While the group rests up for today, I want you and Gajeel to have a word alone at the nearby parlor. He is to inform you of our route, what to expect, how to survive, and really anything that is required for an adventurer to know of,” he whispered towards her.

“Wait, when?” she asked.

He glanced out at the window. “This evening, at dusk. I will purchase more supplies for your home myself, so don’t worry about that.”

Nodding, Levy walked back towards her room, quietly closing it and sliding against the closed door.

“Oh, what is happening?”