qualityfirstproperties

[romiantic]

as a christian saying this, nobody is more of a bigot than Christians and then wanna cry wolf when they’re attacked

[therealslimshakespeare]

Seeing as I've read all your TWC and Dear John chapters what feels like a million times over, they're just THAT fucking good 😩 Do you have any fic recs for MOTA that stick in your mind, or any that you want to see more of?

Hello!!!! I love being asked about this. 💋 I’m so happy you’re enjoying these fics of mine, thank you for spreading the love!

I am admittedly rather behind in reading so when I caveat about not having finished something, it’s always with the intent of finishing and is no reflection on the scrumptiousness of the material. I’m such a stickler for settling down and enjoying a fic, gotta have everything all nice and cozy and right so I can fully dive in, and life’s been too hectic for that recently. But I have a few, and many more I’m looking forward to tasting.

💄Fave Egan one shot fic ever? Likely. The Major’s Wife by @stylespresleyhearted

💄 @steph-speaks utterly superb one shot of reader with Hambone Hamilton

💄 @ktredshoes is doing God’s work with Ev Blakely and Dougie, legit all of their stuff is gold imo

💄 recently devasted myself in the most happy manner by reading @swifty-fox ‘s Understanding in a Plane Crash …it’s got my husband John Brady in lead, what did you expect?!

💄every thing MotA related or not of @blurredcolour is a service to mankind and should be read when you wanna feel something. Shockingly, it’s not always angst, truly Bee has such a talent for conveying the gentler emotions of life with as much raw feeling as many who have to resort to torture porn. It’s an art

💄 @r-catsby ‘s Cleagan Basball Au… legit my comfort fic even tho that doesn’t bode well for my comfort. Need to catch up desperately

💄anyhting by my sweets babes @winniemaywebber @ginabaker1666 (they have an intertwined fic I believe?!!! how cool is that?) and @sagesolsticewrites writes is bound to spark joy in me

💄 @mercyedes Flak House fic really felt like i tripped the fuck out when reading and is practically gospel to me -you cannot convince me that we didn’t watch the episode containing that shit you just can’t. ILL TAKE TEN MORE

[ahopefulbromantic]

Hi there! I only just found your blog, but I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate it! I am aroace-spec and from a Christian church as well, and I have really struggled with reconciling my sexuality with my love of God and His gospel.

My church (and I say just mine cause I don't want to speak for any other Christian denominations because I don't know them that well) is very focused on marriage and getting married in our temples and raising a family and it has always hurt a little bit knowing that I am never going to have that same romantic relationship everyone expects from me in this life.

I appreciate your content because it reminds me that I can love God and love my church while still also loving and accepting myself! Thank you so much for what you do <333

Ohhhh man, tysm for your kind words, I'm blushing and giggling and kicking my feet!! 🥰🥰🥰 I'm so glad this blog brings you closer to God, glory to Him and bless your soul!

See that's the thing I really don't get when of all the people it's the ones from the Church that don't see other ways of life than married with children. Like, there are so so many celibate vocations (at least in my denomination)??? We have priests, monks, nuns, consecrated virgins, hermits just to name a few. And it's not only monastic life, eg. consecrated virgins are celibate laypeople who live in the world like anyone else.

And also, Jesus Himself was a celibate virgin! And He and His followers like Paul advocated for it in the Bible! Mother Mary was one, too! So how could following in Christ's footsteps not be a perfect way of life for some of His children???

You can absolutely love God and be aspec, what's more, I found that personally being aroace brings me closer to God because it helps me:

focus on finding Him exclusively instead of on finding romantic partners and make Him my only Bridegroom

focus on spreading other holy types of love like deep friendship and love for my family and agape and worship and seeing every fellow human being as my sibling in Christ

by God's grace avoid some of the sexual sins with ease: I'll never eg. take part in adultery or enjoy hardcore pornography because I'm simply repulsed by the concept

offer up this part of my life with its joys and hardships to Him and experience it with Him

grow closer to Mary and other virgin saints (idk if you have communion of saints in your church but even feeling seen in examples of holy people is very cool and makes you wanna be like them)

and more!

I believe everything, and I mean every single thing we're given by God, even the thing we have to struggle with and conquer, is there to help us love Him more and be the happiest in the long run. Because otherwise He wouldn't give it to us. And He doesn't care about what other people want from us, He has His own perfect plan.

[bonebabbles]

First Battle Aftermath

For the first battle itself go here

lol. Lmao, even.

Not, "Oh my god what have I done," but "I'm so weak. I can't even kill," while wearing Rainswept Flower like a new pair of fur boots

first Adoption Win in 3 books. What's the tally on that one-- 1 to 10?

Clear Sky doesn't understand the point of burials lmao. Dude did leave that dead mom he killed out in the open for the flies to find, until Wind Runner and Gorse Fur came across the corpse and put it in the ground.

And he can't remember killing Rainswept Flower either, in spite of the fact he was coherent enough to justify his actions to Gray Wing, because the Clear Sky chapters aren't meant to be a glimpse into the mind of a detestable character. They exist to garner your sympathy.

Was that enough regret for you? Hope you got your fill because it's RIGHT back to Gray Wing's Excuse Hour

WE?!

WE LET IT GET TOO FAR

We Let It Get Too Far

"My brother :(((( He's a good man :(((((((( He's a good guy even though he just starved Jackdaw's Cry before trying to murder everyone and told Thunder he shouldn't exist and slaughtered Rainswept Flower in a fit of rage :((((((((((((((((((( He gave up some food after I asked him to when we were like 17 so that means he could never be a bad person"

It's right there on the goddamn page, Clear Sky wasn't BORN EVIL so he's GOOD ACTUALLY because NO CAT CHANGES THAT MUCH.

It's EXPLICIT, am I going crazy here?! The narrative says EXACTLY that because he was good when he was young, he can't possibly have changed into a monster. "No one changes that much"

FEAR OR GREED. GOOD OR EVIL. The writing is SO BAD that they attempted to tell a story with an ounce of more nuance than usual and just ended up re-inventing a Light vs Darkness dichotomy with different nouns!

And just when you thought we'd hit rock bottom, StarClan arrives with the reinforcements needed to DIG DEEPER

Enjoy Clear Sky being called a fool once, just a silly little slip-up, an Oopsie Daisy. "I only wanted--" goes UNADDRESSED as Turtle titters about "killing only ever leads to more killing" because they have to find SOME way of getting mad at Tall Shadow too.

Turtle Tail says some romantic schlock to Gray Wing about the kits and thanks Thunder for scraping her pancaked body off the pavement where she died, and then Gray Wing decides that actually he's mad that her magic ghost came down from the heavens because it's Too Painful to see her again or something. Because he's a GREAT character.

"We came to spread the Good News Gospel, Gray Wing. You need to know that god is real to live here peacefully."

DOTC is about to say that the cats need StarClan to avoid these sorts of massacres, because actually Clear Sky is fearful, NOT greedy, and believing in God means he won't be so scared that he feels the need to abuse women and children

(But also that everyone's kinda responsible for the First Battle because Clear Sky is a good boy and WE let it get too far)

Anyway, Fridge Wife 2 starts interrogating Clear Sky. They do this incredibly insulting chapter transition where Gray Wing goes, "idk if he wants to listen to herrrr..." and Clear's chapter opens up with "LOVE OVERWHELMS HIM" because, AGAIN, Clear Sky's chapters exist to garner your sympathy.

"I was scared my heart would break if I had to see someone else die, which is why I wanted to kill orphans, threw disabled people out into the wilderness, clobbered a kitten, told my son he shouldn't exist, performed public humiliations, and beat 3 women to death"

Wanna take a break and go check out the tally of things he did in the past 3 books, and compare it to his self-defense? Be Storm! Go check that out, keep everything he did in mind.

Ask yourself this; were his actions truly consistent with someone who was just scared he would see someone die of starvation, OR, were they consistent with a domestic abuser who enjoys the power he has over people?

Storm buys it.

"FEAR IS WHAT DROVE YOU," she said with relief.

If you're AFRAID then ABUSE IS UNDERSTANDABLE. IT'S OKAY! It's all fine in the end if your motivator wasn't greed, AKA "BORN EVIL"

"Now you see there's no need to be afraid because God is real, death isn't the end, and the assurance of religion with an eternal afterlife will make you a better person"

They're saying pain is less painful if you believe in God and this is why Godless Heathens are bad in the Warrior Cats series. When Gray Wing decided to proselytize to Wind Runner and tell her it was good that her weakest child died, because it meant he was in a "better place", THIS is what that was building to narratively.

PIETY will fix Clear Sky's abusiveness. YAAAAAAY!

ALSO THIS IS TALL SHADOW'S FAULT TOO SOMEHOW?!

DIE AGAIN, SHADED MOSS, BEFORE I BEAT YOU INTO COSMIC DUST. I HOPE THERE'S MORE TRUCKS IN HEAVEN

"how did you know he was going to kill-" CONTEXT. CLUES.

SHE MADE AN EDUCATED GUESS BASED ON ALL THE CATS POKING HOLES IN EACH OTHER AND SHOUTING "it's murderin' time!!!"

She was a female Warrior Cats character in the general vicinity so they had to make sure to shame her because god forbid they imply that Clear Sky is the only one to blame for this bloodbath

In fact they do it again, Clear Sky snaps and starts barking at River Ripple for being a foreigner in his presence, right in front of God, and they don't skip a beat,

It CANNOT remain about Clear Sky, EVER. Storm whips over to GRAY WING and accuses HIM of bringing death to the mountains too, closing out the whole rant with, "ALL of you need to make amends"

This is like when a bully spits on you, calls you insults, and slaps and hits you where the teacher won't see, all while you keep trying to negotiate, but then YOU punch back and you both get equally punished because retaliation is just as bad as being attacked.

The book ends on the cats deciding it's time to bury the dead. Thus concludes The First Battle, and Clear Sky's Redemption Arc begins in Blazing Star. Because this means they nonsensically get rid of their main antagonist, they have to conjure up an Evil Foreigner to take his place.

"Unite or Die" isn't a message about actual peace and unity, that thing that the Non-Clear Sky cats have been hopelessly committed to, it's actually a message about how they're about to have a very convenient common enemy.

Y'know, someone who isn't "scared," just "greedy," one of those evil Godless Heathens, so we don't have to 'feel bad' about murdering him. One Eye time!

[th4saapobangpo]

meet the author ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Ya'll can call me Angel ! fav model: kate moss ( not a fan of what she has done though ) fav artist: BTS , Lana del rey , Elvis Presley fav show/movie: The big bang theorie/ girls!girls!girls fav cartoon: bugs bunny and the looney tunes Aesthetic: Angel core, barn girl ( but cute) My blog is very inspired by : @princessbrunette, love u girll

-✮ Sooo , I grew up in a farm in Salzburg , a province in Austria !! Im mixed ( Austrian/Kenyan/yugoslavi). but ig no one could ever tell, that im also from the slavic part of europe , cause im light skined ( like tyla ). The farm life was hard but also soo amazing. I had my one goat.. I LOVE GOATS , her name was peony...

-✮ I'm the kind of gal that would ,,accidentaly'' flash a tit or two to her hot neighbout trough a window ...

-✮ or run out while its pouring down in nothing but a thin white dress that would slowy turn translucent..

-✮ I can write/read/translate Latin beacuse here in Austria we are forced to learn it in middle/highschool...

-✮ Am the type of gal that wears modest and long skirts in public but at home ( I live alone ) would wear SLUTTY BUT CUTE clothes if i'd be wearing any at all..

-✮ Im pretty skinny ( 165cm /5'4 , and weigh 45kg/99 lbs),but thats not aways that good 🤧, my joints constantly hurt and my teeth are weak but I somehow still have C cups ( thanks for the genes mom ❤️)

-✮I'M IN LUV WITH OLDER MENNNNNN, yes im talking to you 70s ELVISSS

-✮ I rlly wanna be a rich houswife one dayy, with a nice but wealthy husband, that i will marry for his personality ..

-✮ I wanna have 2 kids and both sha'll be girlss, i'll name them ,,Petunia-Evergreen'' *FUTURE LAST NAME* and ,Poppy-Primrose *FUTURE LAST NAME*

-✮ I am roman catholic (praise the lord and spread the gospel) and my fav bible verse is ,,Psalm 73:26 '' ,,My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strentgh of my heart and portion forever.'' SOO POWERFULLLL, i'm literally lamb!reader in the FLESHHH

-✮ I LOOVEE Sylvanian families (aka calico critters) they are sooo cute and i always carry one in my little purse or as a keychain 🪽

I'M LITERALLY JUST A GIRL

[krabmeat]

putting the existential gay religion poem under a cut for folks who don’t like religious shit :]] (heads up all of my poetry is written with the spoken word intention so if it sounds a bit odd then that’s why !!)

God,

What is your word?

It’s something I’ve heard

Over and over

Again,

And each time

The pastor said

That my queerness is queer

And my knees shall buckle down to you

Sought for forgiveness.

Is that what you said?

Your word is sacred,

Did you know this?

Your word is slew in hatred

And greed.

Latin written words said in gospel

Spread by the churches.

Tithes, indulgences-

Did you send Jesus for this?

For the holy and the pure

To tax the people

Your son died to live as?

What did Jesus endure?

The people couldn’t read your preach.

The words reach

Went as far as your faux disciples

And filtered context to the people.

Please know that I’m feeble.

God, know that I’m feeble and confused.

I want to love you

But I don’t know if your words are even true

Because they’ve been twisted

And turned

And every time

I arrive to the house of Christ before noon

The blood in me feels hated.

And the guilt rises

When I feel I should be elated by your presence

But where is it?

Where are you?

Certainly not in your people?

They preach of life yet want to take mine away,

They preach of love yet ridicule mine,

They preach of forgiveness yet never fail to be so unforgiving,

They preach of trust yet all I see are unfair shields

And god,

God,

I don’t wanna hear them anymore.

God,

They’re telling me what you have in store

For me,

And it makes me terrified.

God,

I’m so scared of you.

So I arrive to the church

In modesty and grief,

And I wash my hands.

I’ve been told I’m undeserving of a pillow

So my god-given-knees rest on hardwood,

And i plea.

I plea to you, god.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for my dishonesty

In calling myself a true disciple of you.

I’m told I’m nothing but a ruse

A hoax, disgrace to the highest degree,

God,

But I’ve been told too much.

Please, bless me.

Bless me with the grace of your voice,

Your words flowing through my ears—

Tell me you hate me

And in turn I will redeem.

Tell me you hate me,

And in turn I will scream your gospel.

Tell me you hate me,

And in turn I will shout amen loud enough for you to hear it from the heavens.

Tell me you hate me,

And in turn your people will have valid reason to revere.

But until then, god,

You made me queer.

Until then,

I’m holy until proven unholy.

Because you made this life for me.

Hand crafted with hands made of love.

I was built by you,

And god, I was built in love.

I was built to love, god.

My arms were built to embrace,

They were built so lovingly

And they search for people to love.

My lips speak of

Love unrestrained to man or woman,

Because you create with love

Therefore love is everyone.

My body is made of

Undefined

Because you made me this way for a reason.

So generous of you

To allow me to experience the joy of creation.

My blood bleeds red.

My blood splatters just like his.

My blood will be written in martyrship just like his

Because you’ve made it my mission

To hear your voice.

To hold your hands and feel the blood flowing under your skin

Because you’ve shown me so much love

And it feels like the peoples gospel is just that:

The peoples.

But if it turns out to be true,

Then hell awaits me.

My uncertainty of you

Will have me damned

To a man

You deem just as undeserving of you as I am.

And I will close my eyes,

And I will fall back,

Satisfied.

Because at least then, your truth would be your truth.

And if there’s one thing I’ll pray for,

It’s a closing statement.

In the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit,

Amen.

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: kinda fuck buddies with feelings? friends-to-lovers? idk y'all tell me. mentions of alcohol, smutty smut smut, eddie is simply the best dude around. this is angsty but fluffy at the end don't worry!!

AN: i am super duper overwhelmed with how nice everyone has been to me here omg thank you guys so much! this will probably be the last oneshot i post before starting my series next week. stay tuned!

The way Eddie knew your body was almost frightening.

His hands memorized every bump, dip and plane. He knew what spots made you weak in the knees, and which ones made your legs shake.

Even now, as he’s buried deep inside of you, he’s praising your body—praising what belonged to him.

“Never get used to this, pretty girl.” He moaned, slowing his pace to tease you. “You look so fucking gorgeous like this.”

“Eddie, God, Eddie.” You whined.

He chuckled, leaning down and pushing on your tummy. “That’s it, Princess. Say my fucking name.”

Eddie’s cock filled you so completely, hitting every spot you needed it to as he fucked you.

His thrusts came quicker now, “Who’s pussy is this?” He pressed firmer on your stomach with each word.

Your vision was blurring. He was bringing your right to the edge every fucking time.

“I said,” he moved his hand to your face, gripping your jaw gently. “Whose fucking pussy is this, hm?”

“Yours!” You cry, “Eddie, fuck, it’s all yours.”

He cranes his neck downward, kissing the center of your chest, up your neck and across your jaw. “Such a good girl, making a mess all over me. So wet, so fucking tight.” It was a gospel he spoke against your mouth. Lips touching yours with every word, “You wanna cum, sweetheart? That it? Want me to let you soak my cock?”

All you could do was nod.

“No, no,” he teased, slowing his pace. “Wanna hear you, wanna hear that pretty voice beg for it, honey.”

“Please,” you moaned. “Please make me cum, wanna cum for you, Eds.”

He quickened his pace immediately, “C’mon then, angel. Cum for me.”

White spots spread across your vision as you felt your release cover Eddie’s cock. Up and down were indistinguishable, time stood still, there was nothing but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

As you came down, Eddie was there to catch you.

“Shit, princess. Look at you, did so good for me. Just like that, baby. Love seeing you cum—work of art just for me.”

Your body went lax as Eddie adjusted the pillow under your hips, lifting them up higher.

“Gonna make me cum, sweet thing.” He’s absolute drunk off of you now, and you love it. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside me,” You’re quickly to demand. “Please, Eddie, please.”

“Fuck. Gonna give it to you, you want it, angel? You want my cum?”

“Yes! God, yes give it to me.” You cried.

“Gonna give you all of it, gonna fill you up princess. Fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming.”

Eddie bent his head to your ear as he stilled, groaning nothing but praises as his spilled inside of you.

Your heavy breaths mixed together. Hot, humid and spent—the both of you.

This was your favorite part. Eddie took aftercare to the next level. He kissed you everywhere; your fingers, hands, arms. Your shoulders, your chest, your chin and cheeks.

He held you to him, drawing patterns over your skin. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” He asked gently, a smile on his face.

You nod, post-orgasm embarrassment setting in. You were so raw with each other in the moment, but when the dust settled, you tend to go bac into your shell.

A shower was calling your name, but as you moved to get up, Eddie pulled you back down. “No, no. Don’t run away, let me hold you a little longer?”

You laughed, “Eds, I’ve got you literally leaking outta me. Your bed’s gonna be gross.”

He brushed off your concern, “Babe, my bed’s plenty gross already.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll, “Oh, that’s comforting.”

The laugh that vibrated his chest warmed everything around you. “You know what I mean,” Eddie tapped your nose with his pointer finger, “I wanna hold you ‘til you have to leave, that’s all.”

That’s all.

Have to leave.

Have to.

“Right.” You mumbled, retreating into the confines of your mind.

Never good enough to stay the night.

So like the fool you are, you let him hold you.

You let Eddie take all of your most vulnerable parts, and handle them with such care and devotion, it made it easy to forget that you were his big secret.

It was never spoken, no. Never something he would say out loud or ask of you. But the sneaking around, the waiting until dark if you were coming to the trailer, under the guise of “I’m just not around until later, baby. Business hours and all that.”

The first time you’d slept together, you were sure he was going to ask you to stay. He showered with you after, kissed you endlessly, and followed you around his bedroom like a lost puppy as you dressed.

But as soon as the last Stich of fabric was zipped up your body, he kissed you deeply, cradling your face in his large, warm hands.

“See you tomorrow?” He asked softly—hopefully.

You left that night in tears, wondering what you’d done wrong or rather, what you didn’t do that made him ask you to leave.

Now, as you stand in the middle of his bedroom pulling your sweatshirt over you, you can feel the tears burning your eyes. Your throat is tight, and you’re afraid if you speak, he’ll know.

He’ll know you can’t handle this anymore.

He’ll know how he’s hurt you.

He’ll know that you love him.

Eddie is watching you, leaning on his hand as he lounged on the bed you’d both just destroyed.

There’s a tension coming from him that you haven't felt before, something he wants to say, but won’t.

Clearing your throat, you try to speak without letting on how upset you are.

“I’m—I’m not sure I’ll be around tomorrow night.” You lie.

Please. Please ask me to be here. Please ask me to stay.

You’re not facing him, so you don’t see the way his face falls, or how his eyes widen at your confession.

Now it’s Eddie who’s clearing his throat, “Oh,” he stands from the bed. “You got big plans I’m not invited too?” He’s trying to joke, trying to keep it light.

You nod, spinning around to face him now that you’re dressed. “Yeah,” the laugh that follows is a forced one. “Yeah, uh, Steve is actually taking me out. Wants to see this band playing at—“

“The Hideout?” He inturrupts, “You’re gonna go to The Hideout with Harrington?”

You nod.

Now or never…

“I am,” you feel bad about including Steve in your lie, but the guy is like a brother to you, so you’re pretty sure he won’t mind.

“He wants to take me out I guess, I mean who would wanna do that, right?” You laugh sardonically.

Eddie’s brows are pinched, “Um, yeah. Yeah okay. That’s-that’s great…you and Harrington. Makes a lotta sense you know?”

He reached for the joint on his nightstand—the one he’d rolled for the two of you, and his translucent blue BIC lighter. He tried to light it once, twice, three times before it finally took.

His hands were shaking.

“I guess, I’ll see you when I see you then.” He spoke softly.

The tears were returning quicker this time, so you reached for your purse and keys that were on his desk.

He’s not even fighting for you.

“Guess so.” You say quickly, throat tightening by the second. “Bye, Eds.”

You turned on your heel, and he spoke as you walked to the front door.

“Bye, beautiful.”

Steve was less than enthused about being included in your lie, but ever the good guy, he took you out.

“Dude, The Hideout? Seriously? Why didn’t you say a place I would actually want to go?” He whined, locking his Beamer.

You hugged your arms around yourself, the evening summer breeze sending a chill up your spine. “I don’t know, okay? I panicked. Jeez, aren’t you supposed to be one of my best friends? Can’t I use your name and likeness for free if and when I need?”

The boy rolls his eyes, “C’mere.” He gripes, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you head for the door.

Confusion paints your face. “What’s that for?”

“Seriously?” He asks, and you raise your eyebrows, asking him to elaborate. “Well one, you’re freezing, and chivalry isn’t dead. Two, I’m supposed to be your date right? Why wouldn’t I put my arm around you?”

God dammit, Harrington.

“Besides, how the hell do you know Munson’s even gonna show up, hmm?”

I know him.

“I just do, okay? Don't make a thing of it.”

The Hideout is as dank as ever. It took way too long to order a drink—which is something you weren’t used too with Eddie.

Not only did he play the stage here frequently—he at least looked like he belonged here. Steve, bless him, was a clear outsider. In his mustard colored sweater and tight jeans.

The bartender took to calling him ‘playboy’ every time he tried to flag him down.

The tall tables staggered around the floor were inviting enough. “Good thing the booze is so cheap, service is terrible.”

You smiled at him, pinching his cheek. “You’re a good friend, Steve.”

“Are you just trying to butter me up so I buy you another shot?”

You paused, drawing your hand back in. “…No?”

A genuine giggle found it’s way through his chest, “Wow, very convincing.”

As the night went on, a few good bands played, and you and Steve made the best of a bad situation. He bought you drinks and made you smile, and for a brief few moments, forget that your heart was breaking.

“You need another? How about a beer this time? Steve asked, brushing a few sticky hairs off of your forehead.

A small nod is all you could manage in your current state, “Thanks Stevie-Bo-Bevie.”

You anticipated a pretty steep wait time, so you tried to get lost in whatever song the Journey cover-band on stage was playing.

Someday, love will find you. Break those chains that bind you!

You sighed.

As you fanned your face, you felt Steve return next to you. “Wow, that was quicker than ex—“

Fuck.

Two big brown eyes stared into yours. “Where’s your date, sweetheart?”

Eddie. He showed up, just like you knew he would.

“Eds,” you gasp, feeling the blood rush to your head. “What are you…why are you here?”

You’re halfway to drunk, and you can tell he is too.

“Wanted to see my girl.” He winced. “You. I wanted to see you.”

The Hideout was the only place Eddie ever took you. The only place he ever held your hand or made it know that you were with him—and Eddie wasn’t fond of sharing.

“Was gonna take you here tonight, by the way.” He spoke to his beer, stealing quick glances at your face. “Journey’s your favorite.” He sipped the condensation covered bottle. “Harrington know that? Hmm?”

You blinked twice, “I, I don’t know.”

Eddie nodded. “Does he know you fucking hate Budweiser? 'Cause that’s all he’s been buying you, babe.”

Your face burned from the alcohol, and from being this close to the guy you were head over heels for.

"Leave Steve alone, he's a good guy, Eddie."

His eyebrows popped once, "And I'm not?"

"I didn't say that."

He sighed, tapping the base of the bottle on the table, "You're really on a date with him?"

No.

I want you. I want all of you, and I want you to want me too.

“I don’t know, Eddie.” You turned your body to him, a sudden surge of alcohol-induced bravery taking over. “But hey, at least he’s not ashamed to be seen with me in public, so. That’s a plus.”

Eddie stands straight now, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. I'm good enough for you to fuck, and keep hidden away in your trailer, but you send me away as soon as you've had your fill." Your voice isn't as strong as you'd hoped, and Eddie feels his heart breaking. "What's so wrong with me? Why can't you talk to me or go somewhere with me where there's actual people around? Would being seen with me embarrass you that much?"

He steps into your space, “Embarrass me?” He scoffs, looking around for something. “Come outside.”

Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you with him gently. You're following him down a back hallway you’ve walked dozens of times with him. The red paint and band posters, sharpie covered walls and cigarette smoke making you nostalgic for what you had just 24 hours ago.

The emergency exit swung open with a bang. Buzzing from the half-lit street lamps only amplifying the tension. He lets you go hesitantly, only to scrub his face with his hands. The cool summer air more sobering than you gave it credit for.

He's pacing now, “You think…you think I don’t wanna be seen with you?” He sounds hurt. He sounds so hurt, but he has no right to be.

Not in your mind.

“I know you don’t, Eddie. This is the only place we’ve ever gone together! Here! This tiny, hole-in-the-wall where the only person I know half the time is you!”

He laughs, and it’s sarcastic and contemptuous. “Why do you think that is, sweetheart? The people in there? They’re the only hicks in this town that don’t think I’m a fucking devil-worshiping freak. They know me, and it’s safe for us here.”

“I don’t care what people think about you, Eddie.” You assert.

“No, but I care what they think about you. I care if you’re fucking followed by bible-toting freaks or by people who still think I did…what they think I did.”

Eddie steps closer to you again, “I tell you to come to me at night because no one goes out at night here anymore. I make you leave before morning so no one sees you leaving my place. I don’t take you on dates or to the movies or anywhere else you fucking deserve because your safety isn’t a fucking joke to me.”

His sincerity startles you. Never once had you thought about how scared Eddie would be to go out anywhere in Hawkins, or the consequences of him trying to do things other people do all the time.

It must be torture for him.

The tears blurring your vision prevented you from seeing the absolute sincerity on his face. All these months, all this time and devotion and care he was showing you in private—it was all real. It was as much as he thought he could give you. “I thought—I thought I was building this up in my head. Us.”

“After what happened last year, I wanted to disappear. Leave Hawkins and go wherever my van would take me—but you never let me feel like I was what they painted me as. Even when the lines blurred, and I was sure I was some kind of monster. You knew I wasn't, sat with me 'til the sun came up and made pancakes the next morning.” He smiled.

Eddie reached for you, cradling your face in his hands, “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I made you feel like I was using you, ashamed of you...and everything else. I’m sorry for not taking better care of your heart."

His thumb runs over your lips as he commits your features to memory. "I love you--I love you too much to risk anyone hurting you.”

Your hands reached for his as he held you. “I love you too.”

Eddie smirked, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

His forehead touched yours, “Can I hold you? Or will Steve try to kick my ass.”

“Oh,” you wrap your arms around his neck. “About that…”

You tell Eddie about your white lie, a maniacal laugh erupting from his lips before he kisses you. He holds you against him, cupping your ass and kneading it gently. When his mouth leaves your, he's shouting to the sky.

"I knew it!" He screamed. He kissed you quickly now, once, twice, three times to your lips. "I knew my girl wouldn't be into Steve Harrington!"

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Steve was stood in the doorway.

He threw his arms up, earning a laugh from Eddie. "What? Why the hell not?!"

[pastorsperspective]

Forgiveness

Happy Friday! The time has come again to reflect on last Sunday’s sermon with Pastor Chad. If you were unable to be with us, you can listen to the message here: https://www.youtube.com/live/b9-mi9JIsD8?si=4djpPZh_rNIv7JOg The Title of the sermon is: “Room at the Table – Judas the Betrayer” and the accompanying scripture is from Luke: 22:1-6. Skip to minute mark 37:45 to go straight to the sermon.

So, this was a heavy one… You asked a variation of the question I was thinking in the message itself, and touched on an answer briefly, but maybe you can expand on that. We're called to forgive, as God forgives us, but does that mean that we must continue to put ourselves in the path of the person, or persons, who harmed us? 

Absolutely not, I was clear that we have to be very mindful of abuse and there are certainly times where we need to step away as the best choice for our own safety, health, and well-being. But that doesn't mean we hate them, and let that hate consume us. Jesus was fulfilling scripture and whether it had been Judas, the Pharisees themselves, Roman government, or you name it, this was all going to end the same way one way or the other. What Jesus demonstrates is the ability to love despite what was done to him and this is the call we have upon our lives. There is certainly a balancing act to this, but when we let love and grace drive instead of hate and anger, this is when we step into a deeper discipleship. 

I see a quote go around on Facebook quite a bit from a rapper I remember from the 90s, Tupac Shakur, that says, "Just because you lost me as a friend, doesn't mean you gained me as an enemy. I'm bigger than that. I still wanna see you eat, just not at my table." In a lot of ways that really resonates with me. It's something we have lost as a society. The ability to recognize that it's not an either-or situation. It's not love OR hate. I can love you and still not have you be an active participant in my life and have healthy boundaries with you, can't I?

I love this quote, and as seen above the answer is always yes. It’s no different with the churches who have disaffiliated. They left for theological and structural differences. We don't hate them; we don't wish they would close and not bring the gospel to those who attend there. We hope for the opposite, that they will do well and spread the love of Christ to all those that go there. Sure, it may slightly different than our way and beliefs, but that’s ok. John Wesley is credited having said, “We may not think alike, but can we not love alike?” To that I say YES!!!! 

Absolutely!! I read an article that spoke to this very thing. It asked the question, have you ever heard someone criticize the building of a homeless shelter in their neighborhood because they didn't want drug addicts and "those types" of people in their community? Have you heard the same kind of criticism for giving to the food pantry? The idea being, why should I give my money and my resources to people who continuously make choices that leave them without food and shelter? How would you answer them?

So, I have heard this kind of thinking from other Churches in our community, but honestly not ours. There are many people and churches in our community who feel a servant’s heart and give so freely, for them I am so thankful and love their spirit. If I had to answer those who don't share this same spirit I would simply say, “so you are in no way in need of God’s grace and don't require it daily, then?” See we like to simply think of justifying grace which is God’s grace that imparts and imputes righteousness into our lives making us right again with, or atone (at one) with God again. The truth is this is but one facet to God’s grace, sanctifying grace is the grace that moves us daily to be more like Christ after we say yes to Jesus in justifying grace. The point is this, we all need God’s grace every single day. Whether that be in a canned good or a measure of forgiveness or even a friendly smile, we are no different from anyone else in the reality that we all need love and grace (PERIOD)!

Well, I know I certainly do. Even on my worst day, thinking about the people who have hurt me the most in this life. I agree with Tupac… I still want to see them eat, just not at my table. I’m not going to share any old Tupac music with you. I’m not a rap fan, but I will share with you my favorite song on the topic of forgiveness. Aptly titled: Forgiveness by Matthew West

My favorite line:

It’s the opposite of how you feel

When the pain they caused is just too real

Takes everything you have to say the word

May all who have hurt us continue to eat and be blessed wherever they are and may all of us who were left behind to pick up the pieces be set free by forgiveness.

[just-bible-musings]

What Saves and What Doesn't

Apologetics has its place, of course, and I obviously love me some Biblical discourse. But apologetics alone is not enough to lead people to salvation. No one was ever saved by a Christian arguing with them.

Creationism doesn't save. Eschatology doesn't save. Telling someone they're wrong and bad and sinful doesn't save. "Sinners in the hands of an angry God" type speeches and sermons do not save. 5-step plans do not save. "Knowing and doing what's right" doesn't save. All of these things have their places, but they cannot save. Not on their own.

Wanna know what does save? The Gospel and the Holy Spirit. And that's it. Show people that they are sinners, lost without Christ- but DON'T rub their faces in their sins. Paul said:

And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God.  For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 1 Corinthians 2:1-2

"Friendship witnessing" and trying to make your speech perfect and relevant is a farce. Paul was the most effective witness/missionary that ever lived, sparking a movement that would eventually reach around the entire world, and writing letters that made it into the Bible and are still read today.

Now, that's not to say that Paul didn't sometimes speak to specific situations. For instance, he stood in the Aeropagus in Athens and preached about the Athenian "altar to the unknown god" (Acts 17), essentially telling them, "hey, that 'unknown god' of yours is God, Himself." And I wish I had a nickel for every time someone has said that Paul must have been a sports fan because he referenced marathons so many times.

How and when you should tailor your witnessing to a specific situation is entirely dependent on whether the Holy Spirit moves you to. Proof:

The same followed Paul and us, and cried, saying, These men are the servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation.  And this did she many days. But Paul, being grieved, turned and said to the spirit, I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her. And he came out the same hour. Acts 16:17-18

Paul had many opportunities over several days to exorcise this woman, but he wisely waited until the Spirit moved him to do so. And because of the events that followed (being arrested, being cast into prison, the Spirit miraculously freeing him and Silas from prison), not only the jailer who witnessed those events, but his entire family and servants came to Jesus, and the Philippian church was born.

You can't do it on your own!!! You can't lead people to Jesus just by talking to them- the Spirit of God has to be present in every word you speak. And in every move you make.

I, myself, have absolutely no gift for witnessing. I've prayed countless times for God to give me such a gift, and He has yet to give it to me. I usually just confuse people, or make them mad. Well, at least when they get mad, I know they understood something. Still, this is not the reaction I hope for. Hate me for this if you want, but I've stopped witnessing in person because I feared that I was pushing people away from God. So my only options for spreading the Gospel now are to leave tracts, and this blog.

And... one other option. My life.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. Matthew 5:16

The idea, I think, is that if I live my life in such a way that God's presence is evident, then other people will notice. And when I tell them that it's all because of God, that will bring Him glory. And who knows but that they may seek Him because they saw Him in me, even if I have no gift to tell them how to find Him?

Of course, witnessing in any form comes with a caveat: we can't save everyone. Er... well, lemme rephrase that. We can't save anyone, only God can; we just lead people to Him and He does the saving.

But anyway, we shouldn't get discouraged by an unfortunate fact: not everyone that God puts in our life will accept Him, no matter how hard we try. I posted a video recently that discussed the "unforgiveable sin," which, as I've always believed, is simply the sin of unrepentance. Some people have rejected God so thoroughly that they will never accept Him. We see this with Pharoah, we see this with the Hebrews throughout the Old Testament, we see this with Judas and the scribes and Pharisees who crucified Jesus. Some people can never be saved because they do not want to be.

If any man see his brother sin a sin which is not unto death, he shall ask, and he shall give him life for them that sin not unto death. There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it. 1 John 5:16

I feel like this must be talking about the unforgiveable sin, of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (Matthew 12:30-32).

This is true even of God. God can do ANYTHING, but He can't save someone who refuses salvation. Because salvation can only happen if someone is in agreement with God.

[coseamic]

HI I SAW U FOLLOWED ME uhhh i just wanna say i love that u draw xiaolin showdown fanart cuz on god it was such an obsession for me as a child but nobody else watched it or cared and ur art is super good and i hope u have a rlly good day

WAAH SHBSGS thank you so much, that means so much to me!!! 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻 i am spreading the XS Gospel

[tinythebunni]

perv!Eddie Munson x oblivious reader

Drooly princess

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Pt 2

Eddie was in love with you. Anyone who couldn’t see that was absolutely stupid. Well, except for you. You were just a little ditsy, but that’s what Eddie loved about you. How beautifully oblivious you were. It made everything he did all the more easier.

Eddie was a pervert. Not just a peeping Tom Perv, like a ‘steal your panties so he can cum in them” perv. He made peace with that. Some people have their quirks, he was already known as the freak so it didn’t matter. You didn’t care he was a freak, you liked him for him.

You and Eddie are best friends. He loves everything about you. Your hair, your voice, you eyelashes, and your smell. The beautiful perfume you wear, your cherry flavored breath, and the sweet smell of your cunt while your sleeping.

The first time Eddie got a whiff of your cunt was an accident. He woke up laying with his head towards the end of the bed, with your legs splayed on his chest. Trying to get up, he nudged your clit. You stirred just slightly, but stayed asleep and content. Eddie, on the other hand, was going crazy.

You smelled so sweet. So precious and pretty. He needed to taste you. He swore he’d only get once lick, but after tasting you through your panties, he couldn’t get enough. One lick led to two, and two led to three, and so on. You thought you were having a wet dream, but you were actually getting head from your bestfriend.

Eddie made you cum harder than you ever had before. But he could only do that once, you’d never wanna be with him. So, he had to come up with a plan.

He arranged for you two to hang out at your house. Your parents weren’t home so it would be perfect. He could stay with you all night, just the two of you.

A few Disney movies later, and you were passed out. Laying on the bed with your hair around you in a halo, Eddie couldn’t help himself. He spread your legs and slid your panties off slowly.

Once they were in his hands, he slid his pants down to his knees. He didn’t need much room, he would make do with what he felt safe with.

Slipping his cock out his boxers, he wrapped your underwear around his tip. Sliding it up and down his throbbing cock, he moaned gospel.

“Fuck y/n, you’re making me so hard. “ he couldn’t believe he was finally doing this. Touching himself over you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. To touch myself to your sleeping body. So useless and unconscious. I could do anything to you” he moaned.

Precum started to slid down his length as he jerked himself faster. His moans increasing in volume. His hands were starting to hurt but he didn’t care. He need to cum.

“I’d do anything for you princess. I’d kill for you. Fuck!” He thought about killing someone who’d hurt you. How you’d hug him afterward and kiss his bloody face. God the thought made him wanna cum.

He could feel himself getting closer. He just needed a little more. “Princess I can’t help myself, you’re so gorgeous, shit, I’ll paint your f-face in my cum!”

Eddie twisted his hand so that his palm would run over his tip, and that was enough. Eddie came, hard. He came all over his hand, his wrist, your panties, and your legs. He kept going though. Until the burn of overstimulation made him sob.

Panting heavily, he switched your underwear to new ones and cleaned himself up. Once he was clean he laid down next to you. He thought he’d been thorough. You’d never know what happened tonight.

Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the whole time. But he didn’t have to know that, now did he?

[lovelyyy-luna]

study break

pairing: (fezco x fem!reader)

fandom: euphoria

type: smut

warning: 18+ fingering (fem receive), praising, blow job, choking.

request: anon: can you do a fex x reader where he’s being kinda clingy and it ends in smut but like kinda rough

word count: 1226

a/n: the reader is in high school but is 18 :)

date: march 26, 2021

masterlist

This last month was vastly busy for you. Senior finals were coming up and you needed to do at least okay on them if you wanted to graduate on time.

You were watching the shop while you were studying and your boyfriend Fez was dealing in the back.

You didn’t know if it was because you were busy but Fez has been very clingy lately. Every time one of his customers came in the back and left he would walk out with them and wrap his arms around you. And like clockwork someone would come in interrupting his time with you.

You didn’t mind him just hanging around you but he would try to distract you from your studying so you did your best to ignore him. You would give him little kisses but be mainly focused on your work and not him.

He didn’t have anyone coming by the shop for at least an hour so he decided to take advantage of that. He locked the front door and made his way to behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck giving you little pecks up and down.

“Fez, baby, I know you want to have fun but I really need to study.”

“I know. Why don't I just take control and you just focus on your studying?” his lips trailed up your neck and bit your earlobe.

“That's not fair,” you start losing your train of thought when his tongue swirled around your neck, “you know all my weak spots and i-” you were cut off by his hands sliding up your shirt and pinching your nipples, “and I don't even know what I was about to say.”

He laughs lightly against your skin. “How about while I have my fun with you, you read out loud what you are studying? Sounds like a plan?”

You nod just wanting his mouth back on your sweet spot. “Okay honey, read your study guide.”

You were always puddy in his hands when he called you that, “honey, you need to study,” he then resumed his work on your neck.

You try to read the paper but you felt his hands trail back down to the button of your pants and stopped. “Read it,” he said sternly and resumed sliding your pants off leaving you in your shirt and underwear.

With a nervousness to your voice, you read aloud one of the questions, “what happened in Chicago in 18-” you moaned as he slowly rubbed your clit over your underwear, “86 that led to the killing of 8 people?”

You wanted him to go faster and as if he was a mind reader, “I’ll go faster if you answer the question correctly.” he whispered and kissed the side of your head.

“Um, it was,” he started to pick up pace, “the uh Haymarket Riot.”

“Good job honey,” his praise made you even wetter. “Read another.”

“Please baby,” you looked back at him wanting him to just take you already.

“No, you said you needed to study, and I'm helping you. Read another, now.”

You look back at the paper and read the next one, “what um, groups were the uh, result of the, fuck,” Fez’ moved your underwear to the side and slide one finger in and started to move painstakingly slow.

“Honey I dont think the word fuck is on that paper,” he chuckled in your love-bitten bruised neck.

“What groups were the result of the social gospel?” you couldn’t handle what he was doing to you.

“What was it, baby? I know you can do it.”

His praise made you moan, “the salvation army, oh god,” he started to go faster causing you to press your ass closer to him, “and um the YMCA.” with the other part of your answer correct he adds two other fingers in you.

Your chest was on top of the counter and your whole back half was exposed for him.

“One more honey?” he cooed.

You shook your head violently just wanting him to fill you.

“Do you wanna take a little study break?”

All you could do was nod your head, “you sure?”

“Fez please just fuck me!” you snap back to him.

He chuckles and with his three fingers still in you he uses his other hand to rub your clit. You squirm at his touch and you knew you were close and he knew that too. He kept at a steady pace but applied pressure whenever he could.

You couldn’t hold it any longer and with the last pump of his fingers curled up in you, you came all over his hand.

“Such a good girl,” he said, wiping the hair stuck to your face by your sweat.

“Do you think you can go another round for me, honey?”

You nod your head and his lips crash into yours, “good because when I did with you, you aren’t even going to remember your own name.”

His tongue then swirls with yours and with a swift motion he picks you up and places you on the stool that was behind the counter.

You get yourself situated and he starts to undo his pants, you see his hardon pressed violently against his jeans, and when he unleashed you could tell he wanted to fuck you for a while. He whimpered at the touch of your thumb rubbing his pre-cum down his shaft and then you lubed it up more with your spit.

When you bent down to put him in your mouth you heard him moan and that really got you going. With your hand wrapped around him and you bobbing your head, he was starting to become undone.

As much as he loved seeing you like this he wanted to be fucking your brain out.

He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off him, and a line of spit from your mouth connected you to him. You wiped the spit off of you and wrapped it around him and gave him one last deep stroke making him grip your hair harder.

“Fuck baby you are going to the death of me.”

You get back on the stool, prop your arms on the counter. He centered himself in front of you, he moved his tip and spread your lips. He did this a few times to gather your wetness around him.

He slipped it in and waited for you to get used to him again.

You tell him to move faster and he happily obliged.

He was pounding into you, rubbing your clit. His other hand snaked up to your neck lightly choking you.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head in pleasure.

Your moans and his grunting filled the shop.

You could feel another orgasm coming and his pace was increasing. You grab the arm that was choking you and forcefully pull him close to you. With his face being inches away from you his pace became slow and deep but his attention to your clit continued at a blinding speed that you screamed but quickly buried your face into his neck stifling it.

You both came down from your high and he places kisses on your forehead.

“Did you have fun, honey?”

You nod still in a state of shock and he could tell that he ruined you in the best way.

♡please like and/or reblog♡

wanna be tagged? (X)

tags: @l-some0wierd0girl-l

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

What's your take on swearing as a christian? Also thanks for running this blog!!! i've weathered many a storm going through your FAQ and poetry tags,,,

i personally swear all the dang time!!! ...offline, that is. i say the f word at least 20 times a day haha. my opinion is this: if you choose to swear, be respectful in your swearing:

avoid swearing in front of kids, especially if you don’t know how their parents/guardians are choosing to raise them when it comes to swearing (you don’t wanna get them in trouble by teaching them a New Word lol) .

avoid swearing around people who have a reason to be uncomfortable with swearing (when i’m with someone new and am about to use a swear word, i’ll check in with them -- “are you okay with swearing?” If they aren’t, I don’t press them to tell me why -- I simply avoid swearing. Ya know, like a baseline decent human being) .

do NOT use slurs that aren’t aimed at an identity you belong to!! my white ass is never ever ever gonna use the N word. i also avoid the b word and c word because i’m not a woman. in my mind, slurs don’t even belong to the same category as swear words -- they’re way worse. (this should go without saying but ya know how people are)

i also recommend that you make a conscious decision about whether or not you want to swear at all and if so, in what situations. Don’t just sorta “fall into it” without giving it some thought, if possible. Do you want to be someone who saves swear words for Big Situations? Or do ya pepper ‘em into everyday sentences (like i do lmao) so that they lose a lot of their bite and are just kinda fun?

Gonna close this with a ~ Fun Bible Fact!!! ~ 

There are some swear words / instances of vulgar language peppered throughout the Bible!!

There is a word used in Judges 3:22 that is used nowhere else, and therefore scholars debate how to translate it. In the verse, my left-handed fave Ehud has just stabbed King Eglon in the abdomen, and הפרשדנה spills out from Eglon...whatever could that be? Some translate it euphemistically as “dirt.” But my seminary teacher (and I quite agree with her) argues that it is indeed a vulgar word for “shit.”  It makes sense that a vulgar swear word would be used in this passage because the whole story is dripping in irony and humor -- it’s a very irreverent story crafted to humiliate King Eglon. .

For more “shit” in the Hebrew Bible: I actually love this article from the Game for Good Christians site when it comes to the 6 uses of the Hebrew word peresh in the Bible. It does a great job of explaining how in 5 of those 6 uses, peresh ( “shit” ) is just used as like, a technical term -- talking about what to do with your bull’s shit (heh) in a sacrificial sense. But the sixth time, in Malachi 2:3, this word is clearly being used in a much more vulgar sort of way -- making it more logical to choose the word “shit” over “dung” or “poop” when translating it: “And now, O priests, this command is for you. If you will not listen, if you will not lay it to heart to give glory to my name, says the Lord of hosts, then...I will rebuke your offspring, and spread shit (peresh) on your faces, the shit (peresh) of your offerings, and I will put you out of my presence.” .

In Isaiah 64:6, meanwhile, the prophet laments that “our righteousness is like filthy rags” -- or so it’s commonly translated. However, that word “filthy” (or “stained”) is more specific in Hebrew: it’s about rags used during menstruation. So not a swear word, but pretty vulgar. .

Gendered slurs (like “whore”) are unfortunately pretty common among some of the prophets. i’m Not A Fan. (come AT me Hosea and Jeremiah i’ll FIGHT ya! Jeremiah you’re like 12, do you kiss your poor mother with that mouth!?) .

Paul himself uses a vulgar Greek word for shit!! In Philippians 3:8 he explains that everything that came to him before Christ he now regards as σκύβαλα (the accusative plural of the word σκύβαλον for any Greek lovers out there who wanna know how to say shit in the nominative form. Oh, and in our letters that’s skubalon.) Translators often pick a nice gentle word like “refuse” or at the very most “excrement” for this word....but nope, it’s a much terser word, no euphemisms in Paul’s writing here. It’s straight-up shit -- alternatively, I do love this translation I saw here: “I forfeited all things; and I consider them crap so that I may gain Christ.” .

Jesus, meanwhile, uses a slur -- *gasp!!* -- but don’t worry, he only names it to condemn those who use it against others (whew): “But I say unto you...whosoever shall say to his brother, Ῥακά (Raca), shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Μωρέ (Moré), shall be in danger of hell fire” (Matthew 5:22). Scholars debate whether this term raca was A Very Bad Word or just a kinda mean one (similar to English words like “idiot” or “fool”). The Gospels are all in Greek, but this word raca is actually from Jesus’ own first language, Aramaic. And yeah, it seems to have mean something like “empty-headed.” Meanwhile that second term Jesus denounces, Moré, is in Greek -- the nominative form is μωρὸς (moros) and is where we get the word moron (a word that I avoid in English because it’s got a super ableist history, btw). Paul also uses this word μωρὸς in some of my favorite biblical passages, such as in 1 Cor 1, when he proclaims that God’s foolishness is wiser than any wisdom of human beings, etc. It’s good stuff but i’m just rambling now

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {11}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: The musical notes emoji 🎶 signifies a song being sung. They are the lyrics.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 

🎶 “But I don't wanna give up. Baby, I just want you to get up. Lately, I've been a little fed up. Wish you would just focus on—me. Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?”

 The sounds of H.E.R filled the semi-rustic kitchen as you moved around it, checking on the multiple things you were making. Her album was one of your go-to things for mellowing out. You sang along and got lost vocalizing along with her. It didn’t take long for you to forget what time it was and that you weren’t exactly alone in the house. As the song ended and the next came on, you held your hands in the air, already feeling the opening of Girls Need Love Too.

  🎶 “Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused. You must think I've got to be joking when I say. I don't think I can wait. I just need it now. Better swing my way.”

 The lyrics were hitting you as right as gospel right about now. Pulling open the oven, you checked on the treats inside, making sure they were rising just the way they needed to. After you were pleased with their progress, you checked your pots on the stove one more time, then went back to the pitcher you were mixing your famous mimosas. That was when DSVN came on, and the hypnotizing sound of the lyrics with the beat made your mind drift back to Henry, especially when the hook came on. It sounded like it was made just for you in this situation.

 For the next few minutes, you focused on trying not to burn breakfast rather than dancing or singing. That was until Santana came on, and you couldn’t help but bust out your best salsa moves to Carlos’ electric guitar and Latin flare. The song was so catchy that you quickly got carried away winding your hips and doing your best Shakira impersonation. If she were standing in front of you, you thought she’d be proud because you gave it everything you had. Before you knew it, the song was almost over, and you’d forgotten about being quiet, and were now singing along to the song as you danced around the kitchen.

 “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

Your scream was loud, so loud it bounced off the walls of the room. Your head nearly snapped off your neck from the force of which you spun around.

 “Oh my god!”

 Henry stood there pinching his lips, trying to stop himself from laughing at you.

 “You scared me half to death.”

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I um—I smelled food and heard music, and here you are,” Henry explained.

 “Oh no, no. How long were you standing there?”

 Another smile spread across his face, and it was all you needed to know he’d probably seen the whole thing. Embarrassment filled you.

 “Oh god, no.”

 “Don’t be embarrassed. You can dance and sing. I enjoyed the show.”

 You snorted while shaking your head, trying to overcome your embarrassment. When you met his eyes again, you still saw the amusement there.

 “Good morning,” you began.

 “Good morning. What’s—what’s going on?”

 He motioned to the organized chaos around you.

 “Oh, breakfast.”

 “Did you order?”

 “Nope. One hundred percent handmade but these hands,” you replied, holding up your hands and flexing your fingers for emphasis.

 Henry’s eyebrows shot up as he approached the kitchen island.

 “You cook.”

 Approaching the same island on the opposite side, you nodded. “I cook and bake and mix and clean, iron, and do laundry.”

 Henry snorted and nodded, clearly amused by the sarcasm in your voice.

 “Cute.”

 You smiled and leaned against it, resting your elbows on the wooden island keeping your eyes on him.

 “I know I don’t look it, but they do say never judge a book by its cover,” you replied.

 Henry nodded before he spoke. “For the record, I’ve never judged you.”

 You studied him for several moments before your eyes drifted over him, taking in his tan linen pants and cream shirt. He looked good, and you almost got lost in that before you snapped out of it. Clearing your throat, you pushed off the island and looked around.

 “I’m almost done.”

 “What’s for breakfast, chef Taylor?”

 You smiled, “I’m glad you asked Mr. Cavill. We have lavender vanilla  bean beignets, scrambled eggs, sausages, and of course mimosas.”

 Henry’s eyebrows again shot up. “Wow. How long have you been up?”

 Turning from him, you dropped a few mint leaves into the pitcher you’d just mixed. “Well, I actually haven’t slept yet.”

 “So you’ve been up all night?”

 “Yep.”

 Sliding to the right, you turned off the oven and took out the beignets to place them on the stove to cool.

 “Why? Is everything all right?”

 “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a night—insomniac.”

 He was going to find out one way or another throughout this vacation anyway, you reasoned with yourself.

 “Really?”

 He sounded hesitant but also surprised.

 “Yeah, most of the time.”

 You used the time he stood there in a state of shock to finish up what you were doing before turning back to him.

 “Are you going to pass out later or soon?”

 “Nope. Come on. All done. Can you grab those two?”

 You nodded your head to the two platters on the stove as you took the others walking out of the kitchen to the outdoor dining table he’d shown you yesterday. Once he saw the table that had two other platters and set place settings, he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

 “I know, but I like to cook.”

 “Everything smells incredible,” Henry complimented as he stood at one of the Rattan chairs waiting for you to sit first.

 Once you sat down, you motioned for him to begin. “Dig in.”

 A few minutes passed with the two of you loading your plates with various items. Once you were finished, you took up the pitcher and poured drinks for you both. When he brought one of your beignets to his mouth, you paused and watched him sink his teeth into it. As soon as he did, he moaned so loud it filled the space and drifted off.

 “Holy--,” he began but never finished because he took several more bites finishing his first one. Once he’d swallowed and reached for another, he continued. “How did you learn to make beignets?”

 “Well, it began with my Gramaw, but eventually, it was experimenting.”

 He bit into another and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and groaned. “These are heaven.”

 “I’m glad you like them.”

 Covering his food-filled mouth, he spoke, “Love them, get it correct.”

 You snorted and nodded as you began to eat. The view before you caught your eye once again, and getting lost was easy. The morning was beautiful, warm, and calm, with a gentle breeze that carried the salt in the air from the nearby sea. You didn’t know who wouldn’t love waking up to this every day. It was then you realized how badly you’d needed a vacation after all.

 “You stare out a lot.”

 Henry’s voice brought your eyes back to him to find his already on you.

 “I’m sorry,” you began with a soft smile. “Another thing about me, I do that—a lot.”

 “What’re you thinking about?”

 You looked out again and nudged your head to the view. “How incredible this view is and that I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve taken a vacation,” you confessed.

 “Tell me about it. I was literally running on fumes. I have no idea how I made it this far,” Henry said.

 You continued to eat and fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

 “Was there anything particular you wanted to do today?”

 “Like what?”

 “There’s so much to do. I know a good spa. There’s diving, boat tours of this incredible lagoon, wine tasting, touring, driving along cote d'Azur. You name it, and it can be done,” he listed off.

 “A lot of choices.”

 You brought your legs up and hugged them to your body as you continued to eat while thinking about your options.

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 “I don’t mind either way,” Henry quickly responded.

 That didn’t help you one bit, but you made the decision all the same. “Nothing screams vacation like a bikini, and a beach, so let’s live it up.”

 He smiled as he nodded. “All right. We have a plan then,” he said, clapping his hands.

 The rest of breakfast was comfortable and peaceful. Neither of you seemed to mind that conversation fell to the wayside because you were both lost in the food and scenery before you. After breakfast, you and Henry managed to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together as you endured his teasing on the multitude of things you’d used to cook. As you cleaned, you caught his eyes on your body a few times, but he kept his physical distance for the most part. After you separated to get yourselves ready for your day in the sun.

 You spent longer than necessary trying to decide on the right bikini. You didn’t know if you should go demure princess or buxom goddess. You were moving and making decisions by reading him. You told yourself the night before that you’d go at his pace and take your cues from him. If he initiated touching, you’d reciprocate. If he kissed you, you’d kiss him back. If he stayed away, you would too. You didn’t want to do the wrong thing or anything, especially since you didn’t know where you stood with him. Letting your self-doubt win, you chose the middle ground on the bikini.

 Thirty minutes later, you stepped outside the villa to find Henry waiting patiently at a white Fiat convertible.  

 “Wow. Is this yours?”

 “Yep.”

 “I don’t know why I’m surprised. We have established that you’re a car man.”

 He smiled as his eyes trailed over you. “Wow. The short shorts come out, huh.”

 You looked over yourself, then back to him. “This is short? Ha, just you wait. I have even shorter.”

 “I bet you do,” Henry chided as he held open the passenger door for you.

 “It’s about a ten-minute drive to the beach, maybe eight if the cliffside isn’t flooded.”

 “Wow, you’re right there, huh.”

 He smiled and nodded as you slipped into the car.

 “All right, let’s go. I have a goal to be kissed plentifully by this French sun, so in two weeks' time, I’m showing every bit of the melanin my ancestors blessed me with,” you joked.

 Henry shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once in, he pressed the start button.

 “Bring it on. I happened to really like yours…it’s sexy,” he slipped in, meeting your eyes for a few moments.

 “Did you just call me sexy, Mr. Cavill?”

 His smile was wide before he slipped on his sunglasses. “Did I? Maybe, maybe not,” he said before he pulled off, beginning the journey.

 As he drove, you relished the breeze and sun on your skin and waved your hands in the air, fully enjoying the carefree vibes you felt. Before long, you’d pulled out your phone and began snapping a multitude of pictures of the scenery, the people, and occasionally even Henry, though he probably had no idea. You didn’t want to miss the chance to see how perfect he looked behind the wheel.

When you got close to the beach, Henry parked along the cliff as plenty other cars had done. According to him, no one made a fuss about small things like that; as long as people could still pass it was all right. The laidback style was already agreeing with you. With him carrying all the bags like the gentleman he was, you allowed him to lead you across the road toward the sands of the beach and then down the shore to find the perfect spot. It took a few minutes, but when you found it, you staked your claim, stomping in the sand, marking it as yours. Henry took the initiative, spreading the oversized beach blanket using the items you’d brought with you as anchors for the corners.

 Once he’d gotten it perfect, you wasted no time pulling off your tank then peeling off the shorts your wore. You tried to keep your eyes away from him, though you really wanted to know if you had his undivided attention. The middle ground bikini you’d chosen was still a look. The cut complimented your curves, while the color complimented your complexion. You wanted to take it at his pace, but you also had to show him you were still hot.

 When you lied back on the blanket, you gawked at the ocean before you and marveled at its sparkle while the sun reflected off of it. Looking beside you to him, you found his eyes on you and his jaw slightly ajar.

 “This is so beautiful.”

 Henry snapped his head away from you and looked at the view you were just staring at. “Very,” he replied, his voice constrained as if his throat were closing. He held your bag out to you, but he didn’t look at you again.

 “Thank you.”

 You dug through it looking for your sunscreen spray. Once you’d found it, you began spraying along your arms and shoulders, rubbing the mist in working your way to your chest.

 “Why France?”

 “Huh? Excuse me?”

 “France. Why France for buying a house?”

 “Well, I have some French blood-ties; the Channel Islands has its history of it, and France is smack in the middle of there and London. I fell in love with it,” he explained.

 “Why Bandol?”

 “Oh, that’s easy. It’s still luxurious enough like St. Tropez but not as high profile. I can be Henry here and not worry someone is taking my picture.”

 You nodded and understood perfectly. It was hard being on all the time. You’d gotten so used to it that you often forgot how to be off.

 “I get it. It’s the same reason why I’ll always choose Australia and Ireland overall,” you explained.

 “I’ve only seen Ireland a few times. I think I need to go back,” Henry added.

 You smiled as fond memories washed over you of your time in Ireland. “You definitely should.”

 You sprayed your shoulder closest to him and began rubbing in the liquid.

 “Ehm, need some help?”

 Your eyes met, and you fought back your smirk. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

 “Yeah, I can help. It’s no problem,” Henry assured.

 You handed him the bottle, then turned your back to him and waited. He didn’t touch you for several moments.

 “How many tattoos do you have?”

 “Um—not sure, seven, eight maybe,” you said while anxiously waiting for him to begin.

 “That’s quite a bit.”

 “Not too much. They’re all strategically placed,” you explained.

 When you felt the sprays on your back, you held your breath and waited for him to touch you. As Soon As he did, you bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the feeling of completeness that washed over you. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin.

 “Have you—ehm, have you ever thought about tattoos?”

 “I have,” Henry began, his voice deeper than it had been moments before. his hands trailed lower to the small of your back, and you hunched over even more, giving him more access. “I’ve just never gotten around to it,” he finished.

 Turning your head to rest your cheek on the tops of your knees, you smiled. “Too much work?”

 A soft chuckle escaped him, and you felt his thump trail up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. Two sprays hit your skin, and he began rubbing into your shoulders. A weak moan slipped out, but he didn’t pull away. The kneading of his hands became more forceful then. You were quickly losing your nerve and grip on reality. Another moan slipped from your throat, and that was when Henry’s hands stilled and rested at your shoulder blades. You felt his fingertips trace the softest pattern onto your skin before they were gone.

 “All done.”

 By then, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your gut were fluttering below your waist. Clearing your throat, you turned back to the ocean.

 “Thanks.”

 “No problem,” Henry said before he stood and discarded his shirt.

 The action didn’t help you at all. Your jaw hit the floor as you took in every inch of him you’d spent all night since seeing the sprigs of hair peeking out his shirt. Plenty of dark hair decorated his chest and trailed down his abs until it disappeared behind his pants. A soft gasp drifted out of you, but your eyes refused to stop ogling. So you sat there looking at him and counting each of his eight ab muscles. The man had an eight pack; you thought to yourself as your throat painfully tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

 Jerking your head up to his face, you shook your head, trying to find words.

 “Wrong? Huh, nothing—um—you uh—you’re—you’re--.”

 Henry smiled as he cocked his brow, waiting for you to say something intelligible. You had nothing, though.

 “Cat got your tongue?” The humor in his voice was so obvious, and you felt like an idiot.

 “And my brain cells, it would seem.”

 His smile made you smile while trying to avert your eyes from the rock hard statue that he was.

 “Sorry.”

 Henry scoffed. “It’s okay,” he said.

 “No, it’s not. You’re a person, not a piece of meat,” you clarified, feeling awful. You were doing the same thing to him that you hated men doing to you.

 “Wait, you think I’m a piece of meat?”

 Looking back at him, you spoke, “No, but I’m sure women look at you like you’re a piece of meat and in turn treat you like it.”

 He nodded, “They have in the past.”

 Your eyes again drifted downward, but you caught yourself before they got to his massive pecs. Clearing your throat, you stood.

 “Do you burn easily?”

 “I’m a white British man, of course, I do,” Henry joked, making you snort loudly.

 “Wow, do you want some?”

 He held his hands up as if to shield himself from you. “Are you looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

 “What!?”

 Henry snorted and laughed loudly.

 “You’re kidding,” you surmised.

 “Yes. You should have seen your face.”

 You shook your head while burying your face in your hands. “Wow. That’s not cool.”

 “You were an easy target,” Henry said, turning his back to you. “Oil me up, baby.”

 You had every intention to, but the side of him from the back stopped you in your tracks for a few moments. As you slowly approached him, you accessed the entire meal that was him before you, unsure where to start. You sprayed over his back then slowly began rubbing across his skin. You couldn’t believe that even his back was as toned as an Olympian. Your brain was slowly short-circuiting with every inch of skin you touched. When you brought your hands down his spine to his tailbone, Henry groaned, and you fought the urge to go lower.

 “All—done,” you said slightly above a whisper.

 “Not quite,” Henry said, turning to face you. “My chest burns easily too.”

 Face to face with temptation; you knew you were destined to give in. it was only a matter of time.

 “I thought you could--.”

 “—Nope. You started the job, so you should finish it.”

 Smiling, you bit your bottom lip. “Does that go for my chest too?”

 Henry’s eyes dropped to your breasts and rested there for a few seconds before he looked back into your eyes with a completely cheeky expression on his face. “Well—that is entirely up to you, Ms. Taylor.”

 Like a child, you giggled most uncharacteristically. Slapping your hand across your mouth, Henry laughed at you. “Oh god.”

 You sprayed across his chest and abs but hesitated touching him. Instead, you stood there gawking at the way his chest glistened. It’s not that you didn’t want to feel. You really, really wanted to feel. You just didn’t think you would be able to not come across as a thirsty fiend. Henry waited patiently waited no doubt taking notice of how you were beginning to hyperventilate. After a minute, he took a step back.

 “Here, I’ll finish the job—this time.”

 You dropped to the blanket and laid back, trying to recover. You couldn’t believe this was life right now. You’d never been attracted to anyone like this. You never struggled like this with anyone, and that reality was a little alarming. Peeking up, you watched as Henry finished rubbing the sunscreen into his chest, spreading it along his swollen shoulders and bulging arms. Your mouth ran dry while another part of you was anything but.

 While proving to be a heightened temptation, a day at the beach was just what the vacation doctors ordered. The roaring sun, the breeze with the salt in the air, and the screams and laughs of people enjoying themselves were wonderful. You didn’t think about work not once, or anything beyond the man beside you reading a book and the book you were reading while the soft sounds of jazz drifted between you. It was perfect.

 Every so often, your eyes drifted to Henry and took in different parts of him. Everything you saw you liked, and the fact that you liked it, only helped your brain daydream even more. There were a few times he caught you staring at him just as you caught him staring at you or parts of your body. When you did catch him, it only emboldened you to play up different parts of your body. You were relieved to know he at least still found you attractive.

 When he goaded you into the water, the two of you played in the waves. The first time Henry splashed you and got water in your hair, you made gasped and pretended to make a big deal about it, which prompted him to apologize profusely. You considered it payback until you tackled him in the water, holding him underneath until he lifted you in his arms like he was Goliath. Your eyes locked, and there was a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he tossed you into the water. That one action began a water war that he easily won thanks to his colossal size and overpowering strength. You didn’t mind.

 By the time you’d sat to enjoy the picnic lunch Henry had packed, only a handful of people had recognized the two of you and asked for autographs and pictures. It really was the perfect first day of vacation, and you already didn’t want it to end. After lunch, you and Henry were walking along the shore, enjoying the lull of water crashing onto your ankles like you had no cares in the world.

  ~~~~~~~~

 -Henry-

 You were gorgeous, more gorgeous than you’d ever been. You were drop dead with make-up on, but without you were a knockout. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he knew you had to know. There was no way that you didn’t. He didn’t start the day with any expectations because he really didn’t know what to expect, but it had turned out to be a great day. He looked across to you and took in your curled and coiled hair that framed your face and gave you an even more youthful glow.

 “So your hair is naturally curly?”

 You smiled and nodded as you turned to look at him.

 “Curly, coiled, kinky, it’s a bunch of stuff.”

 “So you straighten it.”

 “Yeah,” you confirmed.

 He was confused.  “Why?”

 With your brows knitted together, you took him in. “What do you mean why?”

 “Why? I can imagine it takes a lot of time. So, why do you do it?”

 You scoffed but didn’t speak right away. He allowed you the time to think.

 “Well—in the business, it’s easier. As horrible as it is, there are not many people who will cast the black actress with unruly hair or will have the right people who can do it properly. It’s a huge thing for black actresses, and unfortunately, can be the reason why many don’t get a role. So for me—I guess I got used to directors or photographers preferring the sleek look, so I just—maintain it. No one really cares for this,” you said, motioning to your hair.

 He understood what you were saying. Hollywood was fickle; he was living through it right now but couldn’t believe people's ignorance.

 “I like your hair right now. I like how free and beautiful it is. You don’t look—bound. You look free.”

 Your eyes met his, but he couldn’t read the look in them.

 “Oh uh—thank—you.”

 “You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile. “You should just leave it alone from now on.”

 You snorted. “Oh, is this how you want to see me?”

 He could hear the tease in your tone, “Free and beautiful? Absolutely.”

 Again the look in your eyes stumped him. Before he could ask you what you were thinking, you looked away and back out to the water.

 “What if I want to see you like this from now on?”

 He chuckled, “What, shirtless with bad hair?”

 You laughed with him for a few seconds. “Well, nothing wrong with this view at all,” you said, making him blush.

 “Oh, and for the record, your hair is anything but bad. When it’s all slicked to perfection, you look put together, but—I like the more…distressed you. You look free and boundless.”

 The smile on his lips hadn’t slipped since you’d begun your walk, and staring at you, he didn’t think it would slip. You looked away and cleared your throat, something you’d been doing a lot the entire day.

 “I’ll make a deal with you. You keep this look going, and I’ll keep this look going,” you proposed piquing his interest.

 “Do we have a deal?”

 “All right, we have a deal,” he sealed, holding out his hand for you to shake. When you did, you smiled mischievously.

 “Good,” you said before you pushed him into the water and the incoming wave.

 Shock flooded him though he should have known from the glint in your eye he’d picked up.

 “Did you really?”

 With pride and joy, you nodded, “I sure did.”

 As he stood, he wiped his face of the water and chuckled to himself.

 “As a gentleman, I will give you a four-second head start,” he announced.

 “Four seconds?”

 “Three now.”

 You squealed and ran down the beach, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. It was futile. He was fast. Once he’d counted down, he took off after you. When you looked back to see him coming, you screamed louder and tried to pick up the speed, but as he said, he was fast. In a few short seconds, he caught you and immediately began tickling you, making you scream even louder.

 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you shouted through bouts of laughter and screams.

 “No, no, too late for that.”

 With you in his arms, he brought you to the water facing you out so you could see the massive wave coming in. You screamed again while kicking your legs, trying to get him to drop you, but it was no use. Seeing there was no way out, you stopped screaming, but when he tossed you into the wave, you screamed until the water engulfed you. He stepped back and waited for you to wash up on the shore. When you did, he proceeded to tickle you some more until you tripped him and rolled onto him to retaliate.

 Though he hadn’t let on that he was ticklish, you figured it out and exploited it mercilessly. The tickling led to both of you playfully throwing wet sand at each other while waves knocked you down. When he grabbed you, he smeared the wet sand across your chest below your collar, making you scream. That was when you coated his chest down to his waist. He pulled you to him rubbing his chest over yours to make sure you were as lathered as he was.

 “Oh my god!”

 A wave crashed over the two of you, nearly drowning you—nearly. When the water receded, you were still there in his arms, practically underneath him. he took in your beauty, and all he wanted to do was kiss you. he almost did before he stopped remembering what had led you to this point. He was tired of proving and showing you he wanted you—wanted to be with you. It was your turn to prove to him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That was when another wave washed over you, dampening the mood. He was thankful for it.

 Once he was standing, he pulled you upright.

 “Ready to go?”

 You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

   ~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

 After leaving the beach, the two of you walked along the shops that decorated the surrounding area. He pointed out all the places he’d visited over the last few days. He knew some of the shop owners by their names, and it was something you liked for some reason. After the first few shops, you decided to pick up something for dinner and spent the next few minutes trying to decide just what to get.

 “Any special requests?”

 Henry’s surprise only lasted a few minutes before the smile you were getting so used to appeared.

 “You’re cooking?”

 “Yep.”

 His surprise turned to awe as he circled you once. “You can pick whatever you want,” he whispered in your ear before he walked to a stack of cans.

 “Are you sure?”

 He nodded, assuring you that you were good to make the decision.

 “Do you eat a lot?”

 “Do you?”

 “Hell yeah, I do,” you said in an exaggerated tone that had Henry laughing.

 As you walked around the store, you placed various items in the basket that Henry carried. Some peppers, scallions, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and plenty of herbs followed before you walked across the way to a seafood shop. You thought about something simple like salmon but changed your mind when you saw lobsters and said what the hell. You were only going to get two, but Henry piped up and tricked you into four, citing your insatiable appetite. Deep down, you wondered what appetite exactly he was referring to, for food or him. A trip to the local spirits shop had you stocked for more than just one night.

 When you made it back to the villa, Henry was the one to carry the bags to the kitchen, not letting you lift anything but the beach bag you’d left with at the start of your day. You met him in the kitchen in time to see him hoist everything onto the island.

 “All right, you’re all set there.”

 “Thank you, Superman.”

 He smiled and helped you unpack the items in the bags, laying them out on the counters and the island. Once that was finished, you made a move to the door.

 “I’m going to take a shower. I can feel sand everywhere.”

 What was to be a relatively quick shower quickly turned long because you needed to wash your hair and treat it, so you didn’t have any residual salt damage. No one liked breaking hair. That alone usually took almost an hour. Instead of going for the full experience, you cut a few corners in the routine but still managed to complete it. After throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank, you made your way back to the kitchen, ready to cook one of the best meals he’d ever have.

 With soft music playing and a towel wrapped around your hair while your leave-in heat treatment did what it was made to, you began prepping the ingredients. The soft music and time alone gave you more time to process the perfect day you’d just had. There was nothing about it that you’d change, even down to the intense tension that was constantly between you. If another day played out the same way, you still would think it was perfect.

 “All right, I’m clean now. Would you like some help?”

 Henry stood behind you in a tank and sweats with his hair full of curls.

 “Sure, you can actually prove to me that you know what you’re doing in here,” you teased as he approached your side.

 “I’m about to knock your knickers off.”

 You snorted and peeped at him. “Promise.”

 The flustered look on his face said he just realized the land mind he’s just stepped into. Pushing it to the side, you focused on the chives you were chopping.

 “What would you like me to do?”

 Looking around the kitchen, you assessed everything that needed to be done then delegated.

 “Those veggies need to be rough diced and washed.”

 “Consider it done,” Henry replied, stepping away to begin prep. Before he began, though, he walked to one of the bottles of wine you’d just gotten, popped it, and poured two glasses.

 “A little vino for you.”

 Smiling, you took the glass. “Thank you.”

 The two of you worked together chopping, dicing, and slicing the vegetables and herbs and the seafood for dinner. Every few minutes, your eyes met, and you giggled. Once the cooking began, Henry teased you about your towel wrapped hair, saying that was how magazine covers should show you. You watched his form and how he handled his knives and liked how he moved. He handled knives like he’d been doing it his whole life.

 When you saw him perfectly Julianne cut the cucumbers you practically drooled and were ready to push him against that island. You loved a man who could handle himself in the kitchen. Pumping iron and weights and a nice body was great, but cooking dinner for someone because you care, was a supreme turn on.

 When the lobster was steaming and the potatoes boiling, you leaned beside him and watched him kneed the dough he was prepping for what he called his famous sugar rolls.

 “So mentioned you have nieces or nephews? I don’t remember which,” you began.

 “Yes. Three nephews, no nieces.”

 “Cool. What’re their names?”

 Henry smiled as he spoke, “James and Peter and Lucas.”

 “Strong names.”

 “Yeah, Nik and Charlie picked them,” he said.

 “Nik—he’s the older brother, right?”

 “Oldest. I’m surprised you remember.”

 “No girl?”

 “Ha, Charlie really wants a girl. He has a son Lucas but dreams about having a daughter.”

 “Nice. I have two nephews, Niko and Milo, and a niece Aloa, my oldest sister Miesha,” you added.

 The way Henry smiled, you could tell he liked kids. “That’s nice. Do you see them a lot?”

 “I try. It’s hard, though, with my schedule.”

 He nodded, then shifted to the sink to rinse off the cucumbers before beginning with the carrots.

 “I understand.”

 With your curiosity piqued, you decided to dive right in. “So you like kids.”

 “Love kids,” he replied. “You?”

 “Uh—yeah. They’re precious.”

 “I’m guessing you’re close to your brothers.”

 “Oh god, yes, really, really close. We talk several times a day. They’re my first call when something good or bad happens, and it’s the same for them.”

 “That’s good. I’m close to mine too. We don’t talk every day, but I try. I do have a twin, so we don’t need to talk. We just know what’s going on with each other,” you explained.

 “How is that having a twin?”

 You shrugged and put a piece of cucumber into your mouth. “It’s everyday like for me. I don’t know what to say,” you said with a small chuckle.

 “Are all the clichés true?”

 You scoffed and went back to keeping yourself busy. “What clichés exactly?”

 “Oh, you know that you feel each other’s pain and feel what the other feels, oh that you know what they’re thinking.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not like I fall down the stairs, and he feels me fall. That’s just impossible.”

 Henry nodded and moved to rinse the carrots.

 “Yeah, it’s more like a constant presence I feel. You—you never really feel alone, sort of like this constant connection or feeling like someone always has your back. We can feel what the other feels a lot of the time, but it’s sort of like a gut feeling more than an actual physical feeling. There are times he’ll feel when I’m sad and crying, and it’s incredibly annoying.”

 “I can imagine,” Henry started.

 Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to face him and waited for him to speak.

 “Does he feel everything—your moments of happiness or—pleasure?”

 Snorting, you laughed loudly, unable to keep it in.

 “Happiness, I think there could be valid proof to that. As for pleasure, no idea. It’s never been brought up but kinda creepy to think about that.”

 You both busted out laughing, realizing just how creepy it would be if there were any validity to that. Cooking together turned out to be really fun. Usually, you hated people in your space, but with Henry, you didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t mind the subtle way his body brushed yours whenever he passed you. You didn’t mind the sly looks across the kitchen when he took a sip of his wine. You didn’t mind the flirtation in the air, and when he watched you make your lemon cake for dessert, you didn’t mind that he was learning one of your secret recipes. It was something you felt you could get used to.

 Two hours later, you were bringing out one of the platters to the dining table in the yard just in time to catch Henry putting a clay vase filled with beautiful lavender and rapeseed flowers. The purple and yellow combo was so bright it looked like it belonged with the décor around you.

“Wow, would you look at that,” you began eyeing the perfectly set table. “You can set a table too.”

 His smile was wide. “I sure can.”

 “With the proper place settings. I’m impressed.”

 He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly licked his lips as he shrugged. “I didn’t go to finishing school or anything but--,” Henry trailed off, making you laugh at the sly reference to you.

 “Oh, okay, Mr. Cavill.”

 You backed away with your hands raised, making your way back to the kitchen with him following close behind. You pointed to him the items to go, and he walked with you back outside.

 “I know you think I eat a lot, but--.”

 “Oh, stop it. I am sure you have to have a high-calorie intake to maintain your Superman shape, so—ta-da,” you said, giving him jazz hands in front of the food-filled table.

 “Oh, so you’re looking out for me, huh.”

 “Of course. What else is your girlfriend supposed to do?”

 Henry’s smile slowly slipped before it reappeared but only for a second. “Girlfriend, huh?”

 Just like that, your stomach fell through the floor, fully realizing what you’d said. Now you felt like an idiot especially seeing his reaction.

 “Um—well--.”

 Not waiting for you to respond, Henry walked to your chair and pulled it out for you.

 “Uh—give me a second,” you said, bending forward to pull the towel off of your head.

 It had been well past the forty-five minutes you usually kept it on for, and you didn’t want to eat with this heavy thing on your head. Using your fingers, you combed through your curls then stood up to face him. This was practically the first time you stood before a man that wasn’t part of your family with your hair natural. You hated that you felt self-conscience about it. The look on his face was a lot different this time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth ajar.

 “Sorry. Thanks,” you said, slipping into the chair.

 Once he’d pushed you in, he sat across from you.

 “So I know you love your beer and steak,” you began with a smile. “So the steak is cooked in Guinness—a lot of Guinness.”

 Henry chuckled and assessed the steak on his plate while nodding.

 “Bon appetite.”

 Once henry put a slice of the steak in his mouth, he moaned and gave you the chef’s kiss. You knew exactly what it meant, the good ol seal of approval.

 “This is really good.”

 “I’m glad you like it.”

 After putting another slice of steak into his mouth, he nodded. “I love it. you’re a great cook.”

 “Thank you. I tried to tell you.”

 Henry chuckled, giving you a slight roll of his eyes before he continued eating. He was right dinner was good. While you ate, you enjoyed the setting sun and conversation about music, good food, and good wine. One bottle of wine quickly finished, then you were cracking open another and another. When dinner was finished, you sat there listening to the stories of his childhood where his mother played referee between five boys. The way he talked about her made her sound like a saint. It was clear to see how much he admired and loved her. That made you like him even more.

 By the time you climbed into bed for the night, your mind was racing a mile a minute, and all your thoughts were of Henry and the probability that he just might be the perfect man. That thought scared you even more than there being something wrong with him. If he were perfect, then it meant he was perfect for you, and perfect for you meant commitment, complications, and vulnerability while opening the stage for possible heartbreak. Even through the fear, one constant remained—you wanted him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[chillyravenart]

Do you think the first Rhaenys could be described as a “good Targaryen” like Alysanne or Daeron? I mean yeah she took care of the smallfolk and loved music, poetry etc. But also she was rumored to be accused in adultery and her japes about “the yellow toad of Dorne” doesn’t makes her seem like a very nice person. Just wanna know your opinion, have a good day😊

Hi anon! Lmao I see a lot of Rhaenys hate (from a particular group lol) on here for some reason and I genuinely don’t understand it! Gosh, I really wish people would actually READ the texts properly before passing such sweeping judgements lmao but if that was the case, the asoiaf fandom wouldn’t be such a cesspool of self-righteousness right? So here’s my opinion: Rhaenys never did a thing wrong in her life and anyone who says otherwise is a wet blanket. Don't you think it's suspect when how the maesters portray Rhaenys as a wanton adulteress and Visenya as a stone-cold bitch? I certainly do!

Queen Rhaenys was a very instrumental figure in the Conquest, and exercised “soft power” which is the use of diplomatic and persuasive forms of politics, usually by the use of cultural or economic means. We know this because Fire and Blood spells it out for us:

Queen Rhaenys was a great patron to the bards and singers of the Seven Kingdoms,showering gold and gifts on those who pleased her. Though Queen Visenya thought her sister frivolous, there was a wisdom in this that went beyond a simple love of music. For the singers of the realm, in their eagerness to win the favor of the queen, composed many a song in praise of House Targaryen and King Aegon, and then went forth and sang those songs in every keep and castle and village green from the Dornish Marches to the Wall.

Rhaenys also took a "great interest in the smallfolk, and had a special love for women and children” and was responsible for incorporating the “rule of six/rule of thumb” into common law after a man had beaten his wife to death after being found abed with another man. This is also detailed in F&B but I shall add it below:

The right of a husband to chastise an erring wife was well established throughout the Seven Kingdoms (save in Dorne). The husband further pointed out that the rod he had used to beat his wife was no thicker than his thumb, and even produced the rod in evidence. When the queen asked him how many times he had struck his wife, however, the husband could not answer, but the dead woman’s brothers insisted there had been a hundred blows.

She consulted her maesters and her septons on the matter before passing her judgement on the man.

An adulterous wife gave offense to the Seven, who had created women to be faithful and obedient to their husbands, and therefore must be chastised. As god has but seven faces,however, the punishment should consist of only six blows (for the seventh blow would be for the Stranger, and the Stranger is the face of death). Thus the first six blows the man had struck had been lawful…but the remaining ninety-four had been an offense against gods and men, and must be punished in kind... (The husband was taken to the foot of the Hill of Rhaenys, where he was given ninety-four blows by the dead woman’s brothers, using rods of lawful size.)

Rhaenys and Visenya were both equals when it came to policy-making and ruling Westeros alongside Aegon. And they both DELIVERED. Aegon’s chief objective was to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and Rhaenys and Visenya had their own methods of doing so- but Rhaenys in particular used very effective methods whether it was passing rulings on the common law or spreading the Gospel of House Targaryen😂  Similarly, Rhaenys and Visenya both arranged betrothals and marriages between the Houses of Westeros to further knit the kingdoms together.

Save perhaps for Good Queen Alysanne, the wife of King Jaehaerys I, no other queen in the history of the Seven Kingdoms ever exercised as much influence over policy as the Dragon’s sisters.

As for the “rumours” and “whispers” of Rhaenys sleeping around with bards- GOOD for her if she did, and GOOD for her if she didn’t. She had her man Aegon wrapped around her little finger, he spent ten nights with her for every night he spent with Visenya and if the rumours want to call her a floozy then bully for them. Funny how everyone goes cuckoo over Dornish sexual practise and liberation but lord forbid someone else have a lil fun on the side😂 Speaking of, lets get onto Meria Martell now. This is the entire exchange between them:

Meria Martell was eighty years of age, the maesters tell us, and had ruled the Dornishmen for sixty of those years. She was very fat, blind, and almost bald, her skin sallow and sagging. Argilac the Arrogant had named her “the Yellow Toad of Dorne,” but neither age nor blindness had dulled her wits. “I will not fight you,” Princess Meria told Rhaenys, “nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that.” “I shall,” Rhaenys replied, “but we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood.” “Your words,” said Princess Meria. “Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady…but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.” Thus queen and princess parted, and Dorne remained unconquered.

Someone please show me where Rhaenys japed or jeered at Meria. She didn’t personally name her The Yellow Toad, Argilac gave her that epithet and it was in common use by then lol, nor did she parlay with her in an insulting manner. She was there as an envoy to accept her fealty and win Dorne to her side. Later on during the campaign, Rhaenys told Aegon, “The Yellow Toad has melted into the sands” lmao but at this point if people are more concerned about name-calling then idk what to say. Nicknames are commonly used amongst the highborn and lowborn in Westeros, some are pleasant and some not so much - even amongst Targaryens. Aegon the Unworthy, Theon Stark the Hungry Wolf, Kingslayer, Brienne the Beauty, The Imp, Littlefinger, Harma the Dogshead, Whoresbane, Crowfood, etc are all nicknames in common usage! Calling someone a nickname doesn’t make them a bad person, if that was the case, the majority of characters in asoiaf are too🤦‍♀️

Rhaenys died very young, and her loss was keenly felt by her siblings, that much is certain. If she had lived longer, the histories may have turned out very differently! She was an astute, capable and lovable queen and the ultimate matriarch of House Targaryen. I personally believe she would have continued to be very instrumental in law-making and the lives of the smallfolk in Westeros, travelling with Aegon on his progress throughout the lands, holding her own courts and granting her patronage to many a singer and mummer. Good thing we have Queen Alysanne following in her grandmother’s footsteps and doing it for the people!

Long story short, you may or may not agree with the Conquest or House Targaryen in general - and that’s fine. We have a series filled with murderers and rapists and all kinds of unsavoury folks, but it kills me when people say Rhaenys wasn't a "good person" lmfaoooo just stan your bland favourites and stay outta Targaryens’ business!😂😂😂 

Thanks for the question anon, hope you have a good day too!

[papirouge]

SPEAK MY FRIEND

👏🏻 just 👏🏻 because 👏🏻 we 👏🏻 disagree 👏🏻 with 👏🏻 people 👏🏻 doesn’t 👏🏻 mean 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 they 👏🏻 shouldn’t 👏🏻 be 👏🏻 treated 👏🏻 like 👏🏻 the 👏🏻 creations 👏🏻 of 👏🏻 God 👏🏻 they 👏🏻 are 👏🏻 everyone 👏🏻 deserves 👏🏻 respect 👏🏻 and 👏🏻 kindness 👏🏻

Disagreement isn’t hate

Love isn’t agreement

Jesus said to love your neighbour as yourself and he did. He loved all humanity even though we don’t deserve it. He loved the very people who nailed him to the cross. He loves all sinners, all humans and we should too, even though we disagree in reject sin, just as he did.

The Christian goal is to live like Jesus, for Jesus. He didn’t bow to those he opposed, but he showed them COMPASSION

"Love isn't agreement" That's really it!! 👏🏾💛

They really played themselves by trying to get at me trying with 1 Corinthians 6:9 as if I was endorsing sin when NOWHERE in my post did I say homosexuality wasn't a sin ; but these people are so cool with associating "acknowledging sin" with "being an ass with sinners" that they see a Christian telling to not be rude with sinners and they're like "SO YOU'RE OKAY WITH SIN???!!!" bruh.

I remember a post floating around in this scene Christian LARPer/rightoid quoting 1 Corinthians 13 (one of the most famous Bible passage talking about Love) saying "see? This is how you should love you spouse" and what stroke me is that... this chapter isn't necessary aimed at spousal Love. In this chapter, Paul talks about agape Love, which is benevolence, fraternal, affectionate Love. The Love you have for your family & friends of course, but also for anyone on this planet. But these people were so far up their conceitedness they could NOT fathom the possibility of handling this passage in a way that wasn't self-serving. Despite trying to pass like good people ("even if your marriage gets hard, you still have to love your spouse") it was still in a context that was ultimately still beneficial for them (their marriage).

1 Corinthians 13 should be read in context of every type of relationship, in which you should behave with agape Love. An interesting exercise for any Christian would be to read it thinking about someone you dislike, had an argument with, your worst enemy....and THEN you'll grasp what a Christlike Loving behavior truly is. Jesus NEVER retaliated. He wasn't provocative. He never cussed anyone. He never resorted to use weapons. He healed anyone, even His enemies (the ear of the soldier who came to arrest Him that Peter had cut off). This is something these people fail to grasp. Everyday they're bitching against their governement, liberals, gays, Blacks, etc... I wanna tell them "read 1 Corinthians 13 and think about any of these demographics. If you're having a hard time with, do it again, and again, until you finally grasp what being Christian actually is. It is not a quote in your bio, it is not a culture, it is not a political party, it is not a race, it is not a sexual orientation"

They pretend being true authentic Christians but they're actually modern day pharisees who think branding themselves as Christians and sugarcoating their behavior with Bible verse achieve something. They're not seeking to save souls or spread the Gospel. They're just being twats on the web occasionally talking about their self-serving -lowercase j- jesus and -lowercase g- god.

Watch them pull out pointless posts dissing "degenerate gays" "stupid liberals" or "violent Blacks" but the moment you come and say "you are a fake Christian😐" they are shook. They dish something they can't take. Pathetic & weak.