Mostly Harmless.

Not much missed, here - not that I’d know. It’s good to see you.

not-alucid-king

Quit hiding yourself away, old man! Get out there and do shit, go burn down a building, feel alive! [Throws an arm around his shoulder] Good to see ya too!

#notalucidking #//;A; welcome back bby you were really fucking missed also haha

I can’t believe I’m the ‘old man’ now. Well, I can buy the first round *winks*. Shall we?

"My condolences about the outcome of the referendum. It would seem you are in for turmoil filled times. If you at any time feel like taking a breather and having a cup of tea with someone, I could recommend some places in Moscow."

That’s very kind - thank you.

How have you been, Ivan?

I wasn’t there either. No vested interest really.

Would you like to get that tea now? I wonder if even we’ve had enough solitude as of late.

most-russian-name-blog

*laughs quietly* Are you implying that we are against frivilous gatherings of any sort? I would not even dream of that.

Tea does sound pleasant, da, shall we then? There is a quiet little tea house where we can talk in piece if we so desire.

*easy shrug* It can be nice. There’s just few left I care for.

Sounds good. Lead on.

#mostrussianname

That’s very kind - thank you.

How have you been, Ivan?

most-russian-name-blog

Fine enough, thank you for asking. I did miss the party a week ago, were you there Angliya? If you were, was there anything worth mentioning?

I wasn’t there either. No vested interest really.

Would you like to get that tea now? I wonder if even we’ve had enough solitude as of late.

#mostrussianname

theliteraryjournals

BOOK OF THE DAY:

1984 by George Orwell

Amazon: 4.5/5

Goodreads: 4.1/5

WAR IS PEACE. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH. First published on this date, Nineteen Eighty-Four is one of the most haunting not to mention frightening books; 1984 should also be included in the horror genre. 1984 describes a Utopia. Not Thomas More’s version of Utopia, but this is one is the antithesis, i.e. Dystopia. Imagine living in a country, whose leaders apply a totalitarian system in regulating their citizen, in the most extreme ways, which make Hitler, Mao, Stalin and that old bloke in V for Vendetta look like sissies. Working, eating, drinking, sleeping, talking, thinking, procreating…in short living, all are controlled by the state. Any hint of obedience or dislike can be detected by various state apparatus such as the Thought Police, telescreen, or even your children, who will not hesitate to betray you to the authorities. Even language is modified in such ways that you cannot express yourself, since individualism is a crime. The past is controlled, rewritten into something that will strengthen the incumbent ruler. Who controls the past, controls the future. Who controls the present, controls the past. There is no real truth. The “truth” is what the state says it is. Black is white, 2+2=5, if the state says so. The world in 1984 is divided into three states, originated from the ashes from World War II: Oceania (British Isles, the Americas, Pacific, Australia), Eurasia (Europe & Russia), and Eastasia (the rest of it). Continuous warfare between those three (who hold similar ideologies) is required to keep the society’s order and peace. Si vis pacem para bellum. That’s describes the first slogan. The second slogan, freedom is slavery, means the only way to be free is by letting you lose yourself and to be integrated within the Party. That way, you’ll be indestructible and immortal. Ignorance is strength, means the division on high, middle, low classes in society will never be changed. The middle wants to be the high and they’ll act “on behalf of the low” to dethrone the high. Afterwards, a new middle class arises, all will change except the low. The high and middle make and uphold the law, the low (proletarian) is just too stupid to revolt. The state maintains its structure by torture, intimidation, violence, and brainwashing.

by guest reviewer Silvana

Get the book here!

Read excerpts from the book here!

Get the FREE Amazon Kindle app to read on most devices.

FREE BOOKS: 100 LEGAL SITES TO DOWNLOAD LITERATURE!

#1984 #literature

wnq-writers

Maybe the reason why we can’t find ourselves is because we left them exactly where we don’t want to go back.

juanlucio (via wordsnquotes)

#quotes

nickkobyluch

City shapes from Southwark.

#art #london

That’s very kind - thank you.

How have you been, Ivan?

#most-russian-name

not-alucid-king

Care to catch me up? I missed my birthday an’ shit, but here we are.

Not much missed, here - not that I’d know. It’s good to see you.

#notalucidking

A date, or something

Gilbert was quiet and still as the other laced their fingers together, not daring to interrupt the unspoken ease between the two. While they were known for showing grand displays of affection for one another (including a limited-edition watch and a private meal at a luxury restaurant), it was the more quiet, subtle moments that meant the most to Gilbert.

“Well-” Gilbert started, pursing his lips as he perused the menu once Arthur pulled away. “Quite honestly…I haven’t been in the best of sorts. I haven’t really been sober for the past several weeks, and so…when I came out of that, I realized that I was quite lonely, and in need of good, familiar company. So I thought of you, and realized that…quite a bit of time has passed since we were together, and spoke with each other. So I called you up.” He laughed a bit and glanced down before looking up at him. “I’m sorry, about that.”

Arthur wasn’t so much for alcohol, but Gilbert’s story was relatable, “Well, I broke into my brother’s house and sat in his lap, clinging to him and asking for hugs as he was having breakfast, so-” He gestured to their surroundings, “Your way is dignified.”

His smile was wan and lopsided. “You did what you could, of what you felt you had to,” Arthur couldn’t stop his own gaze falling for a moment. “...I’m sorry it didn’t work out - you invested a lot. But it doesn’t make sense for you to see yourself as a burden where I’m concerned. You’ve always kept me fighting.”

He glanced away briefly in search of nearby wait-staff, at Gilbert with appraisal, “You’re welcome to stay over a few days should you feel that way again. I reckon you’d make a decent housemate, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there before. Shall we order?”

enatomars-deactivated20201227

I made a quiz that tells you which character trope you fit best! There’s ten different results! Feel free to take it!

Reblog in the tags what you got!

#femme fatale #misc.

[Text] A R T H U R

[TEXT] W H A T

almadeespana-blog

[TEXT] W H Y D I D N ‘ T Y O U T E L L M E T E A C O U L D B E S O G O O D ? !

[TEXT] YOU HATE ME DON’T U

[TEXT] :’(

#almadeespana #//never be sorry /o/ yoooo there man

[TEXT] IKR

[TEXT] The last guy i told dumped it in the sea D8 ??

[TEXT] Would you like to come over for afternoon tea?

A date, or something

Gilbert, meanwhile, was just smiling. He didn’t see or sense anything wrong with this at all. So when they entered and Gilbert glanced over at Arthur, he tried to keep his enthusiasm at a tolerable level. Gilbert’s love for Berlin was as bright and burning as the sun, and showing off its crowned jewels was one of his favourite things to do - especially to those who didn’t get to see it as much.

“I know the owners pretty well,” he said, possibly to help alleviate some of Arthur’s shock, as he smiled to the waitress. They were set along the edge, looking over the city with ease. They were given menus, and a drink menu.

“Please,” Gilbert said to him with a smile. “Relax, enjoy yourself. Order whatever you’d like. This is one of my favourite places to be, so I’m glad that I can be here with you.”

Arthur hung his jacket on the back of the chair as the menus were set down, thanking their waitress. His attention returns to Gilbert, “Thank you for bringing me here. For this evening; you’re an impeccable host.”

This ‘favourite’ of someone he trusted to have his back was about as safe as it’d get. Arthur reached across for Gilbert’s hand, grip warm and dry as he easily linked their fingers. Any intimacy in the other’s words seemed to have gone unnoticed, Arthur’s gaze out the window while stroking absent and affectionate with his thumb - but when he next looked over with a faint smile, he seemed notably more relaxed.

He pulled away to read over the food choices, “So - what brought this on? I’m flattered you missed me this much, but there’s more.”

whats your biggest flaw?

I wouldn’t tell you.

#Anonymous

[Text] A R T H U R

[TEXT] W H A T

#almadeespana

A date, or something

Gilbert got in the driver’s side afterwards, trying to keep the giant, pathetic grin off his face. So, on the outside, it was just a cheery disposition. He got in and was just about to start up the car when Arthur handed him something, and stated that it was for him - some kind of gift.

“Thank you,” he said, just before opening the box and audibly gasping at what he saw inside. It was an incredibly handsome watch - that he onlly had the foggiest estimate was also very expensive.

“Arthur, this is incredible,” he said, looking over at him with awe. Damn, now he couldn’t disappoint him, at all. The bar was set very high.

So Gilbert quickly put the watch on his left wrist and looked at it with an easy grin. “I think it suits very well.” He added, and with one hand on the steering wheel, he leaned over, this time it was him who planted a kiss on Arthur’s lips. Just because. “Thank you again.”

After that, he stuck the key to the ignition and started up the car. He just hoped that where they were going would be worth it for Arthur.

Relieved he’d done well, he watched Gilbert with the barest of smiles. “I’m glad,” Arthur’s delayed response before thoughtlessly leaning in to meet the kiss, a soft sound after the latter thanks both reaction and response. His smile widened as the car rolled away.

Arthur had no idea where they were going and didn’t try to keep track. He was too comfortable to talk, more relaxed than he’d felt in months, content to slip from watching the passing view, into his thoughts, and back, calm. He knew Gilbert was there - and that was OK.

He zoned back moments before they got off the road, pulling up before a dark canopy, “InterContinental” embellished across the top in gold. Once out, they were through the glass doors into a large, contemporary space that didn’t hint at a restaurant at all, until guided towards the fourteenth - and top - floor, for Hugo’s.

Anticipation felt like something physical curling around him as the lift rose. Arthur’s silence was no longer one of ease; not daring to meet Gilbert’s gaze. He had attended the royal courts, and lived in opulent luxury, but felt so overwhelmed being here in a way the other would surely find incredulous. His gaze flicked across just before the doors open and they stepped out.

“Christ,” the awed mumble carelessly dropped at the tables and chairs aligned beside views of Berlin’s Saturday evening skyline. Arthur struggled to pull his eyes away, with Gilbert while the other checked their reservations, the waitress gesturing them on towards their table with a smile.

A date, or something

Gilbert was feeling a strange feeling - motivation. It wasn’t something he’d felt in several weeks, but he wasn’t about to complain. Maybe, he was even happy. Optimistic, at the very least. A meeting with Arthur always left him in that sort of mood, even if it was just business.

He took the bag, but before he could say anything else, Arthur had pulled him onto a sweet, short kiss, and it shocked Gilbert straight to his core. It was a good feeling - the best he’d felt in a while, and when the other pulled away, he reminded himself to exhale.

Don’t be too giddy, he told himself, even though that the two of them showing affection or intimacy was nothing new, but it was always so good, Gilber tnever took it for granted. Had it really been so long? Somehow, it felt like years.

“Yeah,” he repeated, almost stupidly, and nodded, consciously closing his jaw. “It’ll be a good night. Let’s…go to the car.” And so he turned, leading Arthur out to the parking lot to his very nice car, which he had made sure was washed, buffed, and the insides cleaned and vacuumed. Ever the good host, he opened the passenger door for him after putting his bag in the trunk.

A very good night.

He doesn’t doubt the claim; where they both seemed to expect little from their companions, Gilbert was always an incredibly attentive host and a considerate guest where Arthur had fallen into the trap of believing his own lax standards were universal to everyone else. He saw no need to create extra hoops to jump through - the well-kept car (if he hadn’t seen it before, he’d’ve wondered if it was brand new) and VIP treatment, were ultimately not why he was here. He recalls, at some long gone point, have taken a particular glee in vivisecting romance, along with other loosely associated gestures for his own sardonic amusement. But Arthur wonders as he sinks into the offered seat whether it was not, in fact, that such things were pointless, so much as he hadn’t allowed anyone close enough that providing for them made him happy in longer than he cared to remember.

Something inside him shivers at where exactly Gilbert had booked for them.

Arthur waits until the other is getting in himself, before speaking, “Ah. I have something for you.” He pulls about a shallow, square box from an inside jacket pocket and hands it over.