pandora-allan

Latest Posts by pandora-allan

#Giselle

©Tapioca

greek mythology | txt/twitter posts

ethereal dreamscapes by maya beano

She was the goddess of women and marriage and I'm pretty sure the so called intelligent greeks at that time wanted to portray her as an evil figure, just so they could also point out that women were selfish and stuff. Like I'm just saying that the majority of the man kind had been the leaders of domestic lives and this whole goddess of marriage and women being an evil bitch was a good excuse for men to use in some situations-I guess? I mean obviously there were males who weren't like that but everyone knows that ancient times were already fucked up.

I wanted to write down my view of Zeus and Hera's marriage

Ok so I HATE that in modern movies or books hera is literally nothing but a bitch.

Like yeah she's cruel because her husband turned he that way , he cheats on her every chance he gets even though he says how much he loves her... like his version of love is so twisted it's weird that he doesn't straight up leave hera if he is so unhappy.

Then again, from othe fan stories I read people write zeus as a man that simply wants his wife's love and attention

And the only way to get that is to make her jealous! Her insane jealously proves to Zeus that hera still loves him very dearly.

But then again he still cheats after they stop fighting , eyes tend to wonder.

I feel like zeus is aware of what a terrible person he is but he is the mindset that because he is King and supreme ruler of the heavens that he can do whatever he wants and he expected hera to be an obedient little wife.

Which she isn't at all , she didn't even want to marry him the first place.

She was trapped into it and eventually ended up falling for him.

She is an equally powerful and outspoken women that turned sour from her husband and his bastard children.

Hera isn't a saint , a lot of us wish she didn't take her fury out on the children or the women that weren't willing but her anger always gets the better of her.

Besides there was MANY women that were willing to be with zeus and join him in his bed.

Nymphs , minor goddesses and mortals alike who were willing I say deserve the queens anger.

Those that knew zeus was married but spread their legs anyway I can't really have much sympathy for.

The ones that were forced to do such things weren't as deserving.

Anyways this rant is going on.

The king and queen of the gods marriage is a mystery on it's own.

And UGH I swear I hate that hera can't leave Zeus and be free because she's a goddess of marriage.

That just annoys me so much.

Can someone like..write a damn good story of hera being happy? I would love that.

Above Crowcombe, Somerset.

Photographed by Freddie Ardley

greek mythology | cursed images v

greek mythology | cursed images

Tiny House Mexico

© Camila Cossio

Woodlands at Dartmoor National Park, Devon (@matt_beach_photography IG)

‘Savage’ Squid Game ver. Dance Practice

2021-10-10

Canon EOS R6 + RF15-35mm f2.8L IS

Instagram  |  hwantastic79vivid

2021-10-16

Canon EOS R6 + RF15-35mm f2.8L IS

Instagram  |  hwantastic79vivid

“You inspired me. For that, you are worth every inch of love I had to give.”

— Bianca Sparacino, Seeds Planted in Concrete (via thoughtkick)

The sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more.

— Augusto Cury

Tiny House

© Tiny.Easy 

till the storm passes

PJO RAREPAIR WEEK (DAY 4): Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Jason/Reyna (Jeyna)

Word Count: 1124

This fic is based on Seven by Taylor Swift. Shoutout to @exqviseit for the idea ily bestie. Also they aren't exactly seven here but the vibes are there and that's what's important

Jason could hear them. Even over the deafening rain pounding on his windows and the winds rattling the trees in the lawn, he could hear the yells from next door. The sounds of a man raising his voice and the slightly shriller voice of a girl shouting back at him.

From his bed, he could vaguely make out the outlines of Mr. Avila and Hylla next door, both of them moving around the living room of their home. He hoped they would stop. He knew Reyna would be up in her room, head buried in a pillow, and talking to herself to drown out the noise. But today, that might not be enough.

He knew the situation was bad in the Avila household. Ever since Mrs. Avila had left the family one fine day last summer, Mr. Avila had spiraled into drinking. Jason was more aware of this than he wanted to be, thanks to the many, many times his infuriating step mother had brought it up during dinner, as she tried to fill his father in on the “neighbourhood gossip”. Ever since then, Hylla had been getting into more fights with Mr. Avila, some of them lasting well into the night.

Jason would always know whenever they fought. Even if he couldn’t hear them through his window, he knew by the dark circles under Reyna’s eyes the next day at school that she hadn’t slept all night.

Sometimes, he wished he could just bring her home and have her stay with him. But he knew his parents would never agree to that. That didn’t stop him from dreaming of a day when both of them could get away from their families and run. Far away from the little neighbourhood they lived in, far from the identical houses with picket fences and manicured lawns to places he could genuinely be free.

He was startled from his train of thought by a loud sound near his window. He blinked twice, thinking he had imagined it, when it happened again. He slowly got up from his bed, making his way to the window, wondering if a bird had accidentally landed on the sill and was now trying to get in. As he looked out the glass, he saw a small figure standing right below him, absolutely drenched by the rain, throwing tiny stones.

Reyna.

Jason quickly pulled open his window and called out, “Hold on, I’ll open the door for you,” just as another stone flew up, narrowly missing his cheek.

His brain had already started thinking of ways he could open the main door and smuggle Reyna into his room without his parents hearing him, but before he could turn around, Reyna had started climbing on the lean birch next to his window.

He knew Reyna could handle herself, having seen her climb the trees around their neighbourhood multiple times, but the storm outside was relentless. He gnawed on his lip slightly, hoping that she wouldn’t fall from the thin branches and break her arm, but again, this was Reyna. In a matter of minutes, she had pushed herself through his window and now stood in his room, dripping water on the carpet.

“Hold on,” Jason whispered, opening up his cupboard and bringing out his favourite towel, an old blue one with superman logos, hoping it would bring a smile to her face. He handed it to Reyna, who accepted it with a muttered thanks. As she wiped away the water from her arms, Jason couldn’t help noticing the separate tracks of water from her eyes, very obviously not from the rain. He wanted to comfort her but he knew a single wrong step could frighten her more.

Jason made his way to the bed, pulled back the covers and sat down. Reyna followed, taking a seat next to him. The room was dead quiet for a few minutes.

Then Reyna slowly moved closer to him, tentatively laying her head on his shoulder. Jason gave a small smile before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Jason could feel her steady breathing on his skin as she meddled with the ends of her hair.

He murmured, “You know you’re safe with me, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, letting out a small sigh. “It’s just... I bother you too much.”

Jason shook his head, exasperatedly. “Rey, you know you’re not a bother. You need to understand that..”

She lifted her head from his shoulder, looking into his eyes with that desolate look that made his heart clench painfully. She whispered, “Then why do they always treat me like one?”

In that moment, Jason was tempted to go over next door and yell at her family till his voice became hoarse but that wasn't what Reyna needed. He gazed at her face, lifting his hand to her face to push away a stray strand of hair, and said, “I don’t know Rey, but they must be insane to do that. God, you’re one of the best people I know. I just…” he paused, wiping away a tear trickling from Reyna’s eye, “I just want to run away from here with you. Like far far away, where we can just be ourselves.”

Reyna let out a shaky breath. “I’d like that as well. Just you and me.”

She paused and silence fell upon the room again, silence that filled the little spaces between their bodies. Jason cautiously lifted his hand from Reyna’s shoulder to her hair, lightly running his fingers through her hair. He felt her tense against his chest for a second, before relaxing again. They stayed like that for a timeless minute, just the both of them in his small room.

The silence was broken when Reyna murmured, “I wish they’d stop yelling...I don’t think I can take it anymore. Day after day of both of them losing their minds and breaking things. I just wish I could have a day where I can fall asleep in peace and wake up to a normal house.” She let out a small sigh. “But that’s too naïve to hope for.”

Jason grabbed her hand, holding it in his hands as his words came out in a frenzied mess. “It's not naïve and one day, you’ll have it, I swear!”

She gave him a small smile. “What if I want you there?”

“Then you’ll have me too.”

Reyna wrapped her arms around him as he held her as close as possible. “I love you, Jay,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“I love you too, Rey Rey,”

Later that night, as they sat next to each other, reading his comic books, she asked, “You’ll stay with me? Till the storm passes.?”

He smiled. “Till forever.”

She smiled back.

Omg would you look at that....a not angsty jeyna fanfic from me....Anyways please do reblog and comment it really does mean a lot.

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“Never judge people by their past. People learn. People change. People move on.”

— Unknown (via thoughtkick)

— Me (JNH)// my poetry is a graveyard of memories

catch, and release

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Mindful Magic 🌙✨

“Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can’t get any better, it can.”

— Nicholas Sparks (via perfectquote)

“Stop pressing rewind on things that should be deleted from your life.”

— Unknown (via perfectquote)

How do you fall back in love with life?

clean your room.  clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders.  clean the dishes.  sweep.  take out the trash.  peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them.  take a long shower.  scrub behind your knees.  brush your teeth.  (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can.  the end result is worth it.)

pull out your notebook.  it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while.  fuck moleskins.  the yellow legal pad will work fine.  sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list.  count clouds.  describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise.  sketch the cracks in the walls.  note the shape light makes when it enters a space.  talk about what the air tastes like, smells like.  what sounds are there?  even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything.  remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail.  remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness.  your world is fathomless.  it has potential.

drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed.  it does not need to be fancy.  buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions.  eat it outside.  if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs.  take your fucking meds.  remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body.  your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor.  take care of it.

read a novel.  underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen.  read a novel like it’s poetry.  read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious.  watch a movie you haven’t seen before.  if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one.  take your time.  let yourself bask.  if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.

your chosen family is important.  remember, they picked you as much as you picked them.  the love has no obligation.  it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion.  you are not a burden.  if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people.  when they need you, listen and be gracious.  always be gracious.  the universe sometimes remembers things like that.

listen to new music.  link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that.  listen to something that you don’t usually listen to.  we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music.  we are falling in love again.  the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.  

allow yourself to indulge in romantics.  press flowers in old books.  play movies with subtitles and mouth the words.  dance in your room.  wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public.  write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them.  write poetry, even awful poetry.  revel in its awfulness.  eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.  

“Growth is painful. Change is painful.But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong.”

— Mandy Hale (via thoughtkick)

The world gives you so much pain and here you are making gold out of it — there is nothing purer than that.

— Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey

Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt.

— Meša Selimović