#verse 1

[bassam2013]

{ بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ } آية ١ ، سورة الفاتحة ، القران الكريم

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

Surah Al-Fatiha, Verse 1

Quran

[whydoesthecxgedbirdsing]

~X~——; He’s lying face down in the large snow bank. Is he dead? Someone better check on him.

[glaciescustodia]

Sentence Starters. // Accepting.

@windheard - "i wish we could stay here forever." / for dahlia.

Windrise's Tree had always been of symbolic nature to Mondstadt, but equally a place to seek respite from the everyday hustle and bustle. However sought after peace & quiet?, for those excruciating past centuries?, alone?.

For even as playful of character as Dahlia is, this waiting game had been nothing but torture. The last 500 years, from an incident the vampire shan't name of, it left the deacon with an indescribable feeling than simply the pain of having to wait on the Anemo Archon's awakening.

Lavender hues cast their gaze downward, at the bard resting one's head onto laps & Dahlia reach to scoot aside dark strands if for eyes to meet, then gently cup the other's cheek.

He never got to say 'sleep well' back then.

But he was here now, his god.

Maybe, it won't matter & yet, there is no longer a reason to withhold what should have been said on the very first day Venti woke up...

''Welcome home'', oh how he had long ached to utter such words, with reverence, with indisputable warmth.

To me.

To our forever.

[streisandsapology]

Me on my way to write yet my second analysis paper on The Ladies Who Lunch because there will always be so much to unpack.

[theaccursedninth]

I forgot how ethereal the Dark Elf ships are internally. The movie is so dark, sometimes it’s hard to see. So I brightened this up and I gotta say, it’s as haunting as it is beautiful. At least I think so.

Also shoutout to Malekith for looking every bit as regal and spooky as his ship💀👍

[claratenebris]

→ @hellfireconcert

The previous night was a bit of a blur, but Steve figured they had earned a party like that. Eddie had just finished his GED and, at least for now, Hawkins was in relative peace. The younger kiddos had came over to celebrate in the afternoon, and the rest had stayed later - that was when the blur started, when the alcohol and the weed had entered the party.

Eddie had stayed. Steve didn't ask why, wouldn't ask any of them, just pointed Eddie in the direction of the guest bedroom and told him to come knock on Steve's door if he needed anything.

Morning came and Steve was incredibly thirsty and incredibly hungry, and in need of caffeine and some ibuprofen, probably. He went to the bathroom first, chugged water from the sink and brushed his teeth, then went to see if Eddie was still in bed.

Blame it on the sleepy morning fog or just on Steve being a complete idiot. Either way, he knocked twice and opened the door without waiting for a response. "Hey man, d'you want--" The words vanished on his tongue and for a couple of seconds Steve just stared, dumbfounded, at the sight in front of him. Eddie in front of the mirror, bandaging himself up, which should be concerning - and it would be, if Steve wasn't completely distracted by Eddie shirtless. And looking, well, different than Steve expected. His brain kickstarted again and Steve turned around in a hurry.

"I'm sorry, shit, I should've-- Crap. Um. You... I have questions. I mean, I don't, if you don't want me to have them. Or, I do, but I don't need to. You know? Shit."

[midnight-endings]

Jester The Serious

[trntcrmm]

@lordcarlisle​ liked this for a starter!

As he arrived at the field, Trent Crimm began to regret his choice to sign up for cricket. He had never played it before, he only signed up because this was the best option available. Last year he joined the basketball workshop and it was humiliating. It was a charity sport event for different institutions: the police, the fire brigade, newspaper editorials and so on. Their sports teams played against each other and they could also attend workshops where they had the chance to try other sports as well.

Trent was a member of The Independent's football team and this year they finally managed to defeat the fire brigade's team before the London Times' team beat them. Now the only thing left for him was the cricket workshop. To be honest, he didn't know much about cricket. Only that it was a bit like baseball (which he wasn't following either) and people played it in white knitted jumpers, looking quite stupid. However, he decided not to be judgemental, so he only hoped it would be better than the basketball one last year.

He must have arrived too early, as there was only one person at the field: another man, already in cricket gear. Trent quickly checked his phone and saw that he arrived on time. Weird, he stated in mind.

"Hello," he greeted the other man, then held out his hand: "Trent Crimm, The Independent. I'm here for the cricket workshop."