#all and any paul asks i get are stored deeply in my heart

[httpiastri]

https://www.tumblr.com/httpiastri/738080626373165056/paul-arons-hair-throughout-the-2023-season

as a curly haired girlie and who has dealt with boy hair alot, i have so much i can add to this

ELLE !!!!! omg please please please do add, i would love that !!!! i have like 0 knowledge about curly hair and esp not boy hair that’s curly 😭 i just took 3947 pictures and put them in a post and called it a day-

#pls add to it ily #i would love to hear your thoughts #well tbh i would love to just talk about paul 24/7 #all and any paul asks i get are stored deeply in my heart #💘💘💘 #asks! #chrysanthemonza! #elle <3

[brideofcthulhu10]

Hey guys I'm gonna be out and about today but before I go out to town I thought I leave you with some little Laddie Headcanons! A special thank you to my co-writer @imlostinsantacarla !

Laddie Headcanons

Unfortunately, Laddie was a part of a home in which a divorce was in the process of being filed. There was an immense amount of tension in the family dynamic whilst his father and mother sought to gain custody of him individually as they were in the midst of a messy breakup. The young child’s grandparents were aiding his father in filing for custody over him as his mother was hell bent on having sole custody without any visitation rights.

It’s well known that Laddie’s face was on a milk carton in the movie, with the word ‘MISSING’ written above it. This is just primarily speculation, of course. However, why else would two parents who didn't care about their child put up missing person’s posters everywhere? It’s certainly obvious that his parents were deeply troubled and affected by their son going missing, in conjunction with being apprehensive over his safety as they had no idea where he was.

Whilst his father was attempting to gain custody of him with his grandparents' help, Laddie’s mother lost him one night whilst on the BoardWalk too busy getting drunk at a bar, which is how and where the boys found him. He was all on his lonesome, wandering the BoardWalk terrified. The sight sincerely pulled on their heart strings. Seeing a little kid lost in the dead of night searching for his mother desperately just did not sit well with them.

Armed with the knowledge that their fellow sister Star was having second thoughts over their lifestyle, David immediately took the initiative to coax Laddie into drinking his blood and turning into one of them. This was not only to provide the child with a home, but also a strategy put in place to keep Star close and have her fully commit to their way of life as vampires. After all, girls love kids, don’t they? Surely her maternal or big sisterly instincts would kick in and provide her with the drive to become a caring figure for the young boy whilst solidifying her place in their group. She’d already agreed to the terms, there was no backing out now!

The other boys come to a conclusion of agreement that this is the best option as they cared about Star immensely, least enough to put up a fight when she was considering leaving, and they could not just let a poor boy stay out on the streets with nothing. There was a high likelihood of him getting kidnapped, murdered or something far, far worse whilst he was out there on his own. So they made the collective decision to take him under their wings and into their home, promising him that he would always remain safe with them.

Graciously, as if it were a match truly made in Heaven, Laddie and Star got on swell. The wee boy clung onto her desperately as she truly did remind him of his own mother and how she once was when she was with his dad. Star also bears a resemblance to his mother physically, ensuring that Laddie would bond with her much easier. The boys could not have been more happier and celebrated their success.

And thus it was settled! The boys took Laddie to the hotel and turned him, buttering him up a little in order over the next several to gain his trust and comfort.

"So, Laddie, you like it here?” David smirked at the young boy sat on the edge of the fountain in the hotel.

“Yeah it’s super cool!” He beamed enthusiastically, dangling his little legs off the edge and swinging them back and forth, they barely even hit the ground.

"Would you stay forever?" David pressed further, blonde brow quirked up in intrigue.

"Can I?!" Laddie exclaimed with an enormous grin plastered on his childish countenance.

"Hell yeah little dude! We even have a pretty, cool big sister for you!" Paul interjected just as happily, patting the tiny guy on the shoulder.

"Really?!"

"Mhm," Dwayne added, "and you can play every night."

"And you can eat as much as you want without getting sick, dude!" Marko declared.

"So, Laddie, what do you say?" David asked, head cocked to the side as he watched the little runts eyes float from face to face.

He sits still for a moment... "Hell yeah!"

The guys cheered excitedly, Marko handing David some fancy looking bottle, who in turn passed it to Laddie. "All you gotta do now, is drink this."

"It smells funny. What is it?"

"Old grape juice."

All the while, when Laddie is missing, his mother is struck with excruciating bouts of grief and shame, and attempts to get herself into a better space. Overcoming the worry and guilt that she feels over losing her son through alcohol, drugs, whatever it was that had caused her to lose her son on the BoardWalk that night, is an incredible challenge. She felt she had let her son down as well as her previous marriage. It only spurs on Laddie’s father to find him and gain total custody of the boy.

Living with four rambunctious teenage boys is a handful in itself, so it’s not a wonder that Laddie swears like a sailor, a terrible habit he picked up from the boys. Yet his one sister attempted profusely to set a better example for him. David and Paul find it hilarious that Laddie has a filthy potty mouth, whereas Dwayne and Star aren’t a fan of his newfound language.

“Hey, watch your language, bud.” Dwayne states sternly, chocolate orbs glowering into Laddie’s smaller ones.

“Pussy!” Paul bursts out in between a false coughing fit.

Laddie truly adores reading comic books frequently. In fact, the Frog brothers knew Laddie far before they knew the Emerson’s, they just didn’t acknowledge the kid all that much since he was far younger than them. This was especially since they were far too engrossed in blabbering about vampires, their investment in their own stuff made it impossible for them to give an ounce of attention to him. In their eyes he was always just the little twerp that stood on his tiptoes at the counter in their parents store, sprinkling dollar bills on top of a fat stack of mad magazine, Batman, and secretly some horror comics stuffed underneath the other ones he’d picked out.

“ 'Scuse me, can I get these," Laddie inquired politely, his eyes peering up at the two brothers behind the counter arguing over what the best way to waste a vampire was.

“Uh, yeah sure kid, whatever.” Alan stated fervently, his eyes still plastered on his brother's brooding gaze.

Edgar stuffed them into a plastic bag without sparing the kid a glance. “$15.75.”

“Okay.” Laddie stated in defeat before scooting over a wadded up ball of a $20 bill onto the counter before collecting his change and leaving with his head hung low.

Laddie is still a sucker for comics and wants new ones on a constant basis, it’s certainly something that aids him in passing the time at the hotel. Yet Paul’s adamant that he isn’t going to pay those dorks at the comic book store a single cent from his pocket. And David is a master at mental illusions, so there is one hell of a team to concoct a way to steal comic books. Neither Paul nor David feel any shame in it. David will create the illusion that Paul is walking by the store, only to actually be stealing a stack of comics to keep the poor kid happy.

Star and her inability to part with her human nature and high morals, is never too thrilled about the entire ordeal of stealing comics for Laddie. Laddie sees nothing wrong with it and only responds with utter enthusiasm at how awesome Paul is because Paul can do whatever he wants! This leads to Laddie following in the footsteps of the other boys, believing that he can both take and have whatever he wants, whenever he wants it no matter if there’s real life consequences involved because he can use his gifts (with training from David) to acquire all of his desires.

It’s also a common occurrence for Laddie to experience homesickness; after all, he misses his parents dearly because even though they weren’t the most astounding or perfection parents, they were still his parents. When this occurs, he’ll often seek out Dwayne or Star for comfort, sitting beside them, perched into their sides. They will attentively listen to him, reminding him of how much they themselves and the other boys love him and how they aren’t going anywhere. They all will be together forever. They’d even let him know that his parents and grandparents still love him too, even if he has a new family now.

Laddie unfortunately had to learn the hard way not to go to David about this specific predicament, because whenever he did, David would unintentionally guilt trip the kid about missing his parents. It wasn’t something he meant to do, it was just that David had never really had a home or a family that cared about him, his world before being a vampire was a dog eat dog world. You had to fend for yourself and choose your family. Even then he’d seen people get chewed out for trusting the wrong folks. So there’s a huge disconnection between the pair when it comes to familial things.

Whereas Marko and Paul will do things that will take Laddie’s mind right off of the down parts of being a missing child. They’ll happily play with him, get him his favorite food, read comics with him, steal said comics from the comic book store, maybe even let him help them tinker on their bikes, blast some gnarly music, you name it! They’re prepared to go all out in helping him feel happier where he is in the present and understand that he has a place with them.

Now, as for Laddie’s tantrums… well, every child has them. Usually they tend to be pretty humorous to Paul, Marko and David- that is until something happens to their precious stuff. To be fair he is an eight year old boy, of course he wants to mess with Paul’s Walkman or Marko’s bike keys! Paul nearly had an aneurysm when he saw Laddie accidentally ripped his mint condition 1965 Playboy Magazine.

"Dude who the fuck- my fuckin- WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!"

Laddie, who had been a bit spoilt from months of pampering from a group of enabling teenagers, showed minimal signs of remorse. "They were ugly anyway, she hand on granny panties or something."

Dwayne had to step in and hold Paul back from wringing the kids neck out like a wet dish towel!  "Dude, Paul he's a kid"

"I will eat you, you little turd!"

Once again, David cracks up frequently until Laddie begins to delve into his stuff also. It all began when he wanted to go for a ride and David being the more lazy member of the group had turned him down, especially in a much firmer tone the second time around. So what did the little shit do? Hide all of their keys to their bikes.

"Dude, where are my fuckin' keys," Paul hissed, digging through the cave like a tornado went through the damn thing. 

"Yours too?" Marko exclaimed his question, settling down the couch he had lifted onto the ground. “Mine vanished.”

David chuckled to himself, that was until he patted his pocket where his precious motorcycle keys had suddenly proved to be void of its contents. "Alright which one of you assholes stole my keys?!"

However that confrontation ignited an inferno of a tantrum from the small boy, who was so used to suddenly getting his way and now he was faced with the harsh reality of being told no. The boys should have really thought twice of enabling an eight year old boy! A fit from a kid can get ugly real quick, yet it’s a whole different story when that kid is an emotional half vampire that flips tables and screams at such a volume and octave that glass cracks. Star tends to primarily be a softer disciplinarian, she isn’t fond of the idea of yelling or smacking him, she’s much too gentle for that. Dwayne on the other hand, while preferring to approach things along the placid route, feels that sometimes it’s a necessary evil- while David just straight up thinks that a good smack on the mouth ought to settle him down.

Laddie is a thorn in their asses when he’s bored out of his mind, and the boys learned rather harshly and swiftly that having a little brother was not as fun as the Brady Bunch had it appear. This kid got into all their stuff, no matter how fool proof they made it, the kid always found a way! He would follow them excessively around the cave like a lost puppy, tell them the same story for HOURS on end, ask far too many questions that Marko would just blank the kid out with his music, only for Laddie to talk even louder! It was more than evident that the child had little concern over the fact that they were killers, he’d still happily pester them until they vamped out. In fact, he went out of his way to do that! The crazy little shit…

Laddie would climb on top of one of the many dust caked couches in the hotel right next to where David was reading and peek over his shoulder to get a noseful of whatever he was focused on. "Whatcha reading?" Laddie asked innocently, chin resting on the blonde vampires shoulder.

"....War and peace." David grumbled irately.

"What's that? It's big! It looks boring! Why are the words so tiny? What's it about? Who's the hero? Who's your favorite hero? Mine's batman! Well, I like Iron Man too but Batman has all the gadgets and stuff, and I like his cape but I guess you don't need a cape to be cool, but I like the cape anyway- I like Superman's cuz it's red, red's my favorite color. What's your favorite color? Well I mean red's super cool- oh but black! Black is really cool, i guess you probably like black too huh? I mean you wear it all the time, but really maybe it's cuz-" he had blabbered all of that out in one go without so much as a breath in between his sentences! And David selfishly wondered what the repercussions were on if he flew the kid onto a random cliff and left him there for several hours. He knew it probably couldn’t be good, but it was worth a try if he was ever going to catch a break and get this book finished! Not to mention the countless times that Paul’s thrown into the mix of things, David can’t stomach it and leaves the room because he can’t handle two obnoxious chatter boxes all at once. Star yelled at him once for hypnotizing Laddie to fall asleep because he wouldn't stop talking about Batman and Robin.

It’s obvious that Laddie tends to ride with Dwayne, and it’s because Dwayne is capable of ensuring that Laddie stays in one piece. If the kid had his way and rode with Paul… let’s just say that Laddie would be smeared road kill! And frankly, none of the other vampires trust Paul with the kid. Last time he rode with Paul, he was nearly flung forward when he went off of a steep ramp. Star almost slapped the smirk straight off of Paul’s face! Even Marko thought it was a bad move of Paul’s. So, it was a collective decision - minus Paul’s whining and bitching, in conjunction with Laddie’s pouting - that Laddie rode with Dwayne from now on.

When the boys were killed off one by one, Laddie was the only one who was saddened by this, because he had formed genuine bonds with his older brothers and even though they weren’t perfect, they’d kept their word to him and kept him safe. He was going to miss Paul and Marko playing with him and teaching him cool stuff about bikes and rock n’ roll. He’d even miss David and the way the man got irritated whenever he flitted about him. But the one he was surely going to miss the most was obviously Dwayne. Dwayne was like the older brother that Laddie had dreamed of ever since he was a kid. Dwayne had taken him under his wing and ensured that no one messed with him. He listened to him whenever he was homesick and was always super patient with him and just all around compassionate. Out of all of the boys, Laddie related to him the most. And now he was gone. Though each boy held a special place in his heart. As he left the Emmerson residence, he didn’t have the stomach to look at their dead bodies as he sniffled on his way out, tears streaming down his face. Although they hadn’t been the best to Star and sometimes weren’t the kindest to him, he knew that they had loved the pair of them and deep down, Laddie would always love them.

After the entire ordeal, Laddie decided he’d set foot on finding his parents again and sadly left Star behind. She reminded him a lot of the boys and she would always have a special place in his heart. Before he left he hugged the life out of her, staining her gypsy purple skirt with his tears as he thanked her for loving him and taking such good care of him. He promised her that he’d never forget her and he hoped she never would forget him. Star was heartbroken but also knew that it was best for Laddie to return to his parents and live his life out normally. She hoped he’d grow up to be everything wonderful in life and she assured him that he would remain important and ever present in her gentle heart. A long way down the line they met each other again and embraced like close siblings that hadn’t seen each other in centuries. They were much older now and wiser.

But back to the present, Laddie stumbled upon his mother on the BoardWalk that night, as though it were a miracle. The woman looked strikingly similar to Star, she was the woman that he had remembered from earlier on in his childhood, and he was truly overcome with joy. He got to see his father again which made him happy also. Although his parents couldn’t work things out, they managed to come to a steady agreement that they would have equal joint custody of Laddie, which was something that made things easier on him to adjust back to ordinary life. However, whilst he was missing, his beloved grandparents passed away, never having lost hope in Laddie being alive and returning home someday. Laddie missed them dearly but he adjusted as best as he could to his brand new life. He was never really the same after being with the boys and Star and losing them all, his parents were aware of the change but Laddie never discussed what had happened to him, only responding in vague statements or exclamations.

Somehow though, he found a way to keep in touch with Star, Michael, Lucy, Sam and the Frog brothers. They were all connected through these twisted and sad chain of events, and his bonds with them only deepened as he got older. Even Though they had remained adrift in life, Star, Sam, Lucy and Michael showed up for Laddie's graduation when he finally got through high school. Even still he remained in Santa Carla up until his graduation dinner out with the Emmersons, Star and even the Frog Brothers had shown up. Wandering for a moment on his own, his pace slowed until he came to a haunting stop.

Just beyond the tilt-a whirl, outside the arcade, he swore, parked on the boardwalk he could see a group of biker boys. As the 80s peeled away into the wild teenage rebellion of the 90s, their styles had altered. A blonde still sported a wild lion's mane, another had messy curls grown out. The platinum blonde one was the first to alert the other three of Laddie's gaze. The four grunge rockers sported bizarrely skeletal motorcycles, laughing with each other, now carrying mischievous smiles. Before he could even confirm the haunting visage of said familiar faces they vanished in a flurry of roaring engines. The last to leave looked at him with dark, haunting brown eyes. He could see under the guy's leather jacket and torn up Nirvana t-shirt jagged scar tissue around each of his limbs faded into bronze skin. They just looked at each other for what felt like a lifetime, and a wave of chills trickled down his back. The raven haired biker smirked at him, no malice in his grin. Only a soft farewell, proud even. And then he was gone. Laddie managed to take a deep breath in, silently turning on his heel to return to Star and Michael at the diner. When he got home he was applying to a few out of city colleges, somewhere away from his past.

#the lost boys #lost boys 1987 #lost boys imagine #lost boys #lost boys fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #fanfic #80s movies #lost boys david #lost boys paul #lost boys dwayne #lost boys star #lost boys laddie #laddie thompson #vampire #lost boys vampires #headcanon #lost boys head canon

[i-run-with-a-wolfpack]

One Question♡ Paul

Pairing: Paul Lahote and fem reader [OC]

Warning: mature language and sexual situations

1 part complete

Words: 2,138

One Question

"One question...are you going somewhere?"

I sighed deeply.  Freezing rain was pelting my car, the trees were painted with ice, and the sky was gloomy.  Every surface was covered and it kept coming down. I noticed the power line sagging under the weight of it all and I wondered how much longer before it snapped and we lost power.  Well, he lost power. I don't live here. 

"Well?" Paul prompted from the other side of the room.

I drew a heart on the window pane in the fog that my breath has created.  I didn't know why I drew a heart. It wasn't like I knew what love is. Sure we said 'I love you,' but if we didn't act like it, then did we really?

I turned slowly to find Paul reclining on the couch, soft black flannel pajama pants resting beautifully low on his trim hips. No shirt.  God, did he ever wear a shirt? Hardly ever. In fact, it was weird to see him wear one.

My eyes travelled up to his face.  That fucking smirk pissed me off. But it was there.

We've been fighting since yesterday, maybe longer.  Really it's just the same fight as always. It's about the only thing we ever argue about.

Don't talk to other guys. Period.

I knew this by now.  After he revealed to me several months ago, that I was his imprint, it didn't take long to realize that Paul was possessive with a capital "P."

But this particular fight started at the grocery store.  Once I heard there was winter storm coming, most likely nothing but a downpour of ice, I knew I needed supplies.  The chances of getting back out in this were slim and now I could see I was right to get the extra bread and milk.  The roads were treacherous and my car was a block of ice.

"It's kinda bad out there, huh?" Paul smiled a little as he rubbed a flattened palm up and over his stomach and back down again.

I sighed deeply and retreated into the kitchen.   Begrudgingly, I yanked different ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry with the intent of making myself a sandwich.  And that dickhead didn't deserve anything. I thought I'd let him starve. 

My mind wandered back to yesterday at the store...where the fight started.  Paul had sauntered over to the magazine aisle, no doubt to peruse the car magazines, leaving me to decide on something for dinner.  In the produce section, I fondled the tomatoes and made my choice. "What I wouldn't give to be that tomato." A voice from behind me whispered.

I turned slightly, noticing the young guy next to me with the amazing smile.  I watched as he lifted heavy sacks of potatoes like they were nothing, hoisting them up to rest in an intricate pyramid in the wooden bin.  He glanced over at me and caught me staring at him as he worked. I had seen him in the store a few times before, but he had never spoken to me.  His voice was nice. "Can I help? Find something, that is."

Then he laughed.  And I laughed. God, I'm a dork.  I grabbed a little container of strawberries and inspected it carefully.  "No.  I'm good," I replied quickly.  

He nodded and moved behind me.  I could feel his eyes on me and his shoulder as he brushed past me.  "Stocking up for the big storm I see," he casually announced as he moved to stand beside my cart.

I smiled a little, thankful there wasn't anything in the cart that I didn't want him to see.  Well, except for…

He zeroed in on exactly what I didn't want him to see and he blushed nervously.  "Well I was gonna say that I hope you have someone to keep you warm tonight...but I guess you already do."

I gave him a tight smile as my eyes darted away from his intense stare. I tossed the strawberries into the cart in a feeble attempt to cover the extra large box of condoms that Paul had tossed in, because I knew I didn't grab them.  Another weird laugh came from me. Dork.

"I really don't think you need to worry about who's keeping her warm tonight...asshole."

I gasped when I felt Paul's fingers tighten around my hips from behind...yesterday and again right now.

"Quit it, Paul," I argued weakly as he pressed against me, trapping me between his towering body and the edge of the counter.  

"That looks good," he observed as he leaned over my me, his breath fanning over my exposed collarbone.  I reached up to adjust my shirt and use it to cover my shoulder as it had slipped down. Paul pushed my hand aside as he reached for my sandwich and took a bite.

I sighed as I began to create another one.  I was hungry too, dammit! I could hear Paul munching in my ear and I could feel drops of chicken salad plop onto my shoulder.  "Sorry about that," he sighed, his voice low and growly.

I stretched my arm across counter to reach the paper towel holder, only to have Paul's large hand encircle my wrist and pull it back to my side.  "Paul…"

I squeezed my eyes shut as his tongue flattened and smoothed over my skin, licking away any remnants of his spilled lunch. I gripped the edge of the counter tightly, pressing my lips together in an effort not to scream.  He's only licking my shoulder, for fuck's sake!

A small whimper began to form in the back of my throat as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin on the side of my neck.  Goosebumps erupted up and down my arms as his stubble brushed my skin. "One question…"

"Hmmm?" I squeaked.

Paul's hands slid up under my thin sweatshirt, climbing up to cup my breasts gently.  My head fell back to rest on his shoulder. His lips curled around my earlobe and I shivered.  "Are you still mad at me?" he breathed.  

"Yes," I replied without hesitation. 

"One question…"

I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. Only because he always said 'one question' and then proceeded to continue asking more, usually asking different versions of the same question until he got the desired answer.

"Can I taste you?"

I squeezed my thighs together and sucked in a deep breath. "Paul…"

"I'll take that as a yes," he declared as he lifted me by my midsection and carried me the short distance to the dining room table. He held my wrists, pressing my hands flat on the wooden surface in front of me.  I panted when I felt him push into me from behind.

"I'm still mad at you," I insisted with a shaky voice.

"So you said, Babydoll," Paul growled as he peeled my leggings and panties down and discarded them.  

I turned in his arms, facing him now, ready to continue our fight.  His eyes were bright with desire, incredibly turned on by my insistence that we argue more.  If I didn't know better, I'd swear he only started these fights with me so we could have the mind-blowing sex that followed. "You embarrassed me at the store yesterday.  You didn't have to be such a dick."

I watched Paul's expression change, suddenly worried that I had gone too far.  He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. "One question…"

I rolled my eyes and nodded as I yanked on my sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to cover my myself.  "Did you really expect me not to say anything? That kid was hitting on you. Don't you care?" he insisted.

I huffed and scowled at him.  "That's like… two questions."

He laughed and I gasped when he bent down, slid his hands around my thighs and lifted me up onto the table.  His grip on my knees curled behind as he lifted, forcing me to lie back. "You didn't answer my question."

I swallowed thickly when Paul lowered his face and his head disappeared below my shirt.  I could feel his lips on my stomach and my mind went blank. "The question?" I prompted with a shaky voice.

His head popped back up and he leaned in close to my face.  "Don't you care that kid was hitting on you?"

I shook my head quickly. "It doesn't matter, Paul.  I'm with you," I breathed as my hands held his jaw. "Every guy in town can talk to me and it won't change how I feel about you. Don't you know that by now?"

Paul squeezed his eyes shut before yanking me to the edge of the table and disappearing between my thighs.  My back arched when that wide, wet tongue of his worked it's way to my most sensitive place and I had to hold onto the edge of the table.  I panted furiously as his fingers slid inside me and worked in tandem with his mouth to take me to the brink.

I could feel myself teetering close to the edge when I reached for and dug my fingers into his broad shoulders.  That feeling was lost when he slung my legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around my thighs and carried me to the living room with my ass resting on his chest, my hair swinging below me as he walked.  I grasped the back of his neck with both hands, holding on for dear life. "Paul! You're gonna drop me," I whimpered.

He knelt down in front of the fireplace, holding me a few feet above the fluffy rug in the center of the room.  "You really think I would drop you, Babydoll?"

My eyes went wide as he let me drop, just to pull me back at the last second.  I squirmed in his arms as he smiled down at me. "I could never hurt you," he insisted as he finally lowered me to the floor all while still nestled between my thighs.

When Paul leaned toward to capture my lips in a kiss, I held a finger to his mouth and I cocked my head.  "Are you ever gonna trust me to be around other men?"

Paul sighed deeply, resting on his elbows with his lips mere inches from mine.  "I do trust you. It's them I don't trust. How could I ever live with myself if let you get away?  You mean everything to me and I...I…"

That's all I needed to hear before closing the distance between us and pressing my lips to his.  "I love you," he mumbled over and over against my mouth.  

I knew it.  I'd known it for months and more than that...I could feel it.  I felt it in the way he protected me, even when I didn't need it.  I felt it in the way he worried over things I didn't even notice. His love for me was all consuming, confusing and most times, overbearing.  But the idea that I wouldn't have him in my life had my heart clenching in fear.

Paul Lahote drove me crazy with his jealousy and 'one question' stuff, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  I was his and he was mine.

He gazed down at me when I began tugging on those pajama pants of his.  "You sure?" he questioned breathlessly, his brow furrowing with concern. 

I nodded quickly and laughed when he made quick work of discarding them.  "One question," he smirked as he pulled off my shirt and tossed it near his pants. 

"Okay?" I urged, eager to feel him inside me.

Paul licked his way between my breasts and raised his head to meet my curious eyes.  "Do you love me...want me...as much as I want you?"

I sighed sadly at how insecure my baby boy could be sometimes.  I smiled widely as I reached between us and guided him to enter me. His hips lunged forward and he pressed his forehead to mine, waiting for my reply.  "I love you, Paul. I want you...so much."

His eyes drifted closed and he nodded slowly as we moved together, getting lost in each other.  The sounds of the ice hitting the window and tree branches snapping under the weight of of the furious drizzle that wouldn't let up were all around us. I jumped when the power went out and the house went silent.  The only light in the room coming was from the fireplace and illuminating Paul's beautiful face.  

His eyes snapped open as he continued to move inside me.  "One question…" he began. "Should I stop?"

"Don't you dare," I insisted as I rolled us over and took charge. 

Paul held me tightly against him as we rode out the storm… together.

The End ♡

#paul lahote x reader #eclipse #alex meraz #twilight wolf pack #twilight #twilight+paul #writing #paul lahote smut #smuttyfanfic #romance #paul lahote imagine #paul #paullahote #paul lahote

[send-allmyloving]

Pt 2. of the pianist!Chuuya fic!

~

You were the best musical duo in all of Yokohama. With your stunning voice and Chuuya’s nimble fingers playing jazzy riffs on the piano, everyone who watched your performances was enthralled the entire time by the sheer talent emanating from the both of you. And of course, the chemistry between you both was unmistakably noticeable. You and him would often steal little glances at one another throughout each of your performances, and occasionally flash each other a smile. You performed all the classic jazz songs, from Martha Tilton, to Ella Fitzgerald, to Frank Sinatra. Chuuya had a phenomenal voice as well, for someone who was so focused on the piano. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that you were perfect for each other. Your music lightened up any atmosphere that came into the Bar Lupin, and the owner was always grateful for your presence; he’d settled on giving you both freebies each time you finished a performance!

Months past, and the both of you had grown closer and closer to each other, with private practice sessions followed by long conversations in the lounge at his penthouse, complete with wine and soulful jazz playing on the record. He’d often take to flirting, and of course your timid little heart, though slowly coming out of its shell, was often prone to stutter at his various compliments and gestures; from the way he called you a “pretty young thing” to how he would gently brush a few strands of hair away from your face so that he got a clear view of your eyes, you were wrapped around his finger at that point. You were falling for him, hard. And he was falling for you. It was mutual pining, and quite obvious to the public eye. They would coo over even the smallest of gestures you would do for each other, or they would compliment how you two would make a great couple, to which the redhead would sling an arm around your waist before pulling you close, responding smugly with “I very much agree!” with a stupid smirk on his face, and you could never tell whether he was joking or not.

Even when he would look deeply into your eyes and praise you, in what you registered almost as a loving tone for the times you’d succeeded in something, or when he would take both your hands and press gentle kisses to the back of each palm before placing another kiss to your forehead when you were feeling low, your heart was always conflicted as to whether or not he meant it platonically, or something more.

That was, until a certain day.

“Hey,” Chuuya said gently, coaxing you out of your daydream state as you both sat at the bar. It was a cool evening, and you both had the day off, having been performing all week. “I have something I wanna show you,” he murmured, taking your hand before giving it an amicable squeeze.

“Hm? What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head to the side curiously as you looked into his sparkling sapphire eyes.

Chuuya grinned. “You’ll see,” he said excitedly, before stepping off the bar stool, leaning over to tap the table to get the bartender’s attention. “’Ya mind if I play a little piano? There’s somethin’ special I wanna show everyone,” he said cheerily.

Your eyes widened a little. What did he mean special?

“The piano’s always open for you, Chuuya! Be our guest,” the bartender said, shooting him a friendly smile before gesturing towards the piano.

“Thanks!” he beamed, turning and walking towards the piano with a little skip in his step. He stops before the piano to turn his head and look at you, beckoning you forth. Nervous as to what he was planning, you shimmied forward towards the front of the room, just before the little stage with the piano.

“Take a seat for me, angel. I wanna show you somethin’ tonight,” he murmured, whisking himself over onto the piano bench.

Chuuya cleared his throat before calling out the the audience he had before him. “Ladies, gentlemen, non-binary individuals... I’d like to play something,” he said with a little smile, causing the audience to quiet down as to what was in store for them at this moment.

“It’s something that’s a little bit... special to me. For a special someone,” he said more gently now, his eyes trailing over from the audience towards you.

You felt a fiery heat rush up your face, meeting his eyes shyly. What on earth was about to happen?

Chuuya trained his eyes back on the keys, and he began to play.

Oh.

You knew what song this was. It was your favorite song, the song you told him that represented love for you.

Put your head on my shoulder...

Paul Anka. The familiar lyrics fluttered through the air in a rich melody of love and warmth as the redhead sang, his voice an incomparably beautiful symphony that resonated throughout the bar. Everyone was captivated, but you...

As he looked at you with a familiar gaze that stirred up such strong emotions in your heart, you felt the song wrap around you in the most sincere, affectionate embrace.

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me

That you love me too...

You understood now.

That familiar look in his eyes that he had now...

It was the same that he had all those moments before.

When he listened to you sing... when you told him silly jokes while you were tipsy on merlot...

Even when you were suffering, he was there, looking at you with a telltale emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Until now.

It was love. Pure, wholehearted love that flowed from his heart into yours as he sang, looking at you with absolute adoration. You felt the tears sting your eyes as you smiled at him.

God. You realized now, how much you loved him. How much you cared for him.

You loved everything about him. His kindness, his talent, his humor...

Every single damned thing.

Was this really for you? Could this be true? Was this his way of professing?

And the thoughts filled with uncertainty swirled through your mind once again, until he finished. Your breath hitched as the final chord of the piano rang throughout the bar.

The audience erupted into applause and whistles as he walked towards you with the most loving grin on his face. He didn’t care about all the cheers; his entire attention was set on you.

Ah. So your brain was playing you once again, huh?

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You looked up into his eyes, gripping the lapel of his jacket as he gazed at you, his fingers so subtly trailing across the small of your back in the softest of patterns as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours, your noses brushing together ever so slightly.

“So?” he hummed in question, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling in curiosity, but with a tinge of hopefulness, and the slightest bit of anxiety. He didn’t know what he would do if you turned him down, because God, he was too damn in love with you. He just wanted you to be his to hold, to kiss, to whisper words of love to. He wanted you all to himself; he just didn’t know how he could let you go right now.

“What do you say, hm?”

He waited with bated breath, arms adjusting around you to hold you more firmly, like he was afraid you’d slip out of his grasp.

Lucky for him, though. There was no place right now where you’d rather be other than in his arms, just like this.

You said nothing, but smiled and met his lips with yours.

And as you kissed, Chuuya felt all the love you had kept from him pour into his heart, filling him with joy. Your lips were so damn pretty; he knew that already, and he knew they would be good to kiss.

He just never expected it to be this amazing. Your lips were soft, and you tasted like the apple cider and rum you were drinking only a few moments ago. Most of all, when he kissed you...

He felt at home. Like it was where he belonged.

The hoots and cheers died out, until all you could focus on was the way Chuuya’s soft lips moved against yours, overflowing you with a melody of his love and adoration; the way his embrace made you feel safe and warm, and happy.

Finally, you both found your missing puzzle piece. And there was no way you would ever let each other go.

#chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya scenarios #chuuya scenarios #bsd x reader #bsd scenarios #nakahara chuuya scenarios #pianist!chuuya x singer!reader #pianist!chuuya #bsd au

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 10

Word Count: 3468

POV: Tyler

Warning: Cursing, but then you probably know that by now.

Notes: Alright, I hope this doesn’t disappoint anyone. I know I left you with a cliffhanger in Part 9. I honestly went a couple different ways with this one, and finally decided to go with this. Let me know what you guys think. Peace, Love and Hugs to all!!!!

Morning dawned and with it, it brought a renewed sense of hope. The seller of your dream home had accepted your offer finally; excitedly you shared the news with (Y/N). It was if all the pieces were finally falling together in your life; new home, new baby and the love of your life by your side. You were sitting on top of the world and nothing could bring you down; especially when you learned that (Y/N)’s parents had done a complete turnaround. Knowing how important family was to her; you knew that she would want and need their support in the months to come. There were still fences that needed to be mended there on your end; but with time you hoped that you could restore the bond that was once there.

 Blissfully you started your usual away game day routine; a quick workout, breakfast with the team and then morning skate all went better now that you had the woman of your dreams back in your life. Breezing by like a strong wind off the ocean; you lost track of where the day went. That was until you realized it was time to get ready and head down to travel to the arena. Checking your phone, you made sure it was charged; thinking that possibly something was wrong with it now that you noticed the time. It wasn’t like (Y/N) to forget to call you, quite the opposite in fact; recently you’d fallen back into the old habit of talking a few times a day. Though you knew she would be busy with her family today.

“What’s up Segs?” The concerned look on your face must have had Jamie questioning things.

 “Probably nothing, I just haven’t heard from (Y/N) today.” Shrugging, you tried to make light of it.

 “I wouldn’t sweat it man, she’s probably just busy or something. Didn’t you say her family was getting together today?” Taking his voice down to a whisper, he added, “They’re probably still talking about the baby and everything. It’s pretty big news all things considered.”

 Jamie was right, you were sure that the baby was a main topic of conversation. “I’m sure you’re right. She probably just lost track of time. I’ll give her a call on the way there.” Grabbing your usual seat, you took out your phone and called (Y/N); five rings later you were listening to her voicemail. “Hey babe, it’s just me. I’m sure you’re busy or something. We’re just heading to the arena now. Give me a call when you can. Love you.”

 Turning to Jamie you two discussed strategy for your game against the Blackhawks; before you knew it, the bus pulled into the arena. Hitting the last step your phone rang, an unknown number popping up on the screen; hesitantly you answered it. “Hello”

 “Hey Ty.”

 “Hey babe, did you lose your phone or something? I almost didn’t answer this.”

 “Oh right, um…Is Jamie there? I need to ask him something really quick.”

 Something was off, you could tell right away. “Yeah he’s here, but…”

 You tried to say more, but she stopped you short. “It will be real quick, I promise.”

 Brow furrowed, you handed the phone to Jamie as you continued inside. “She wants to talk to you.”

 Giving you a look of confusion, Jamie took the phone. “Hey (Y/N), what’s up?” There was a lengthy pause. “yeah…..ok…..are you sure?....I understand, but….I will…I promise.” He handed you back the phone then; the look on his face didn’t reassure you by any means.

 “Babe what’s going on? Why did you need to talk to Jamie?”

 You could hear her falter. “Ok… so I need you to know that both the baby and I are ok, alright?” Blood drained out of your body, why was she starting off like that; you stood immobile, not being able to move even one muscle. Silence made her continue, “There was an accident. I’m in the hospital, they want me to stay overnight, but the doctor assured me that the baby is fine. He’s just being cautious.”

 A cold sweat broke out across your brow; leaning against the wall, you tried to absorb the words she just spoken. “What…what happened?” Jamie squeezed your shoulder in support.

 “Sean and I ran to the store to get something. We were at a traffic light and I don’t know this car just came out of nowhere through the red light. We didn’t have time to react; I tried to protect the baby as much as I could. I don’t exactly know what happened; I hit my head and the next thing I knew I was being woken up by the paramedics.”

 Bile rose in the back of your throat, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe; trying to speak but no words would come out. Slowly you sank to the floor, head between your knees; inhaling deeply, you tried again. Yet still nothing came out. “Tyler, we’re ok. They have me hooked up to a fetal monitor and they’ve done a sonogram. The baby is fine. Ty, do you hear me? We’re both ok.”

 Blinking hard you tried to calm your racing heart; as the ringing in your ears softened a few decibels, you became aware of your surroundings. Jamie was standing off to the side, whispering to Monty. Turning you spoke to them, instead of the phone; “I’m not playing. I need a car, now.”

 “Tyler….Tyler….Tyler Paul Seguin.” (Y/N)’s voice permeated through the fog in your brain. You must have made some noise for she continued, knowing she had your attention. “You are not leaving that arena; do you hear me? Your ass better be out on that ice come game time.”

 “Jesus (Y/N), how am I suppose to play, when you’re lying in a hospital? It’s not fucking happening; I can’t do it. I need to be with you and the baby.” How were you suppose to go out on the dam ice and not think about her or the baby; it was incomprehensible.

 “Tyler, my parents are on their way; Sean is here with me. There’s absolutely nothing you can do here. Besides by the time you could get a flight here, they could discharge me. The only reason I’m telling you now, is because I don’t want any secrets between us, ever. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

 “Babe, would you listen to me for a second. I won’t be able to play not knowing what’s going on with you. I’ll be useless out there. Trust me they don’t want me to play.” This said loud enough so that both Monty and Jamie could hear.

 “I’ll text you updates and you can check your phone at the end of each period. Or better yet, give your phone to one of the trainers and they can relay the messages to you.”

 (Y/N) had an answer at every turn for you; but your stubborn nature would win out this time. “And what if something does happen. I should be there. I’m going to be there. If I could just find someone to get me a damn car to get to the airport. Fuck it, I’ll take a cab.” Hauling yourself off the floor, you started to move; only to be blocked by Jamie. “Move.” This said to your best friend and captain.

 “Tyler, babe can you please just listen to me.”  Continuing to stare daggers at Jamie, mentally willing him to get the hell out of your way; or else you’d pulverize him. “I knew you would want to go. Which is why I asked Jamie to make you stay. He’s only doing what I asked him to; don’t be mad at him.” The pleading tone in her voice, had you softening, but only slightly. “I don’t know how many times I can say this; the baby and I are fine. The doctor mainly has me staying because of the concussion. He’s just monitoring the baby, since I’ll be here. Wait, hold on; he’s coming in right now.” She paused, speaking to the doctor, before coming back to you; “Ty, this is Dr. Frost; he wants to speak with you.”

 “Mr. Seguin, I just want to reassure you that both Ms. (Y/LN) and the baby are doing fine. Had she not, sustained her head injuries, I would be sending her home shortly, but I’d like to observe her overnight for precautionary measures only. There were no abdominal or pelvic injuries sustained; so I don’t anticipate anything out of the ordinary here and she’ll probably be discharged in the morning. Do you have any questions for me?”

 “How severe are her head injuries?” you were acutely aware of what a concussion could do to someone, given your profession.

 “Ms. (Y/LN) sustained a level three concussion. According to the paramedics she was unconscious for several minutes. We’ve done an MRI; which did not show any bleeding on the brain. Given the severity; I would like her to take it easy for the next week or more, so no driving, lifting or work.  I’m recommending she follow up with her OB/GYN this week.” Level three, that was no concussion protocol, kick you out of the game in a second level; her head had to be throbbing. “Mr. Seguin, there’s nothing you can do here tonight. It would be my recommendation to let Ms. (Y/LN) get some rest and you come see her in the morning.”

 “I understand, thank you for your time doctor.”

 There was a brief pause before you hear (Y/N)’s voice again; “Ty can I call you back after the doctor examines me?”

 “Yeah of course.”

 “Promise me you’ll stay right where you are.”

 “I promise.” After speaking to the doctor, you didn’t want to cause her anymore stress; as her brain was probably having a hard time processing everything.

 “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” Sliding the phone into you suit pocket; you closed your eyes trying to process the last several minutes.

 “You ok man?” Opening your eyes, you saw Jamie hadn’t moved from your side; Monty a short distance behind him on the phone.

 “I don’t know what to do? She wants me to stay here, but, how can I? God, I could’ve lost them both.” You choked back the tears threatening to spill over.

 “But you didn’t Seggy. They are both ok. She told you that, hell she told me that. What do you think will help her right at this moment?”

 “I don’t know Chubbs, she keeps telling me to play.”

 “Then play, and then we’ll get you on the first plane to her. I swear it.”

 Monty came forward then, overhearing the conversation between his players. “Tyler, I have someone working on getting you a plane; just say the word on when you want it to leave. Look I understand if you have to go now; the team will be fine.”

 “Can you have it ready for the moment after the game is over? Like no interviews, none of the bullshit?”

 “There will be a car waiting for you the minute you’re done; and I promise no bullshit. Take it all out on the ice; all those emotions you feel right now just put it out there. Then go be with your girl.”

 “Thanks Monty.”

 Jamie grabbed you by the shoulders, “We’re all here for you man. We got your back.”

 “I’ll need someone to go get my stuff from the hotel.”

 “It’ll be in the car, ready for you.” It was as though Monty anticipated what you would say.

 “Alright, let’s go get ready. The sooner we get started the sooner I can see (Y/N). Oh, Monty, can I give someone my phone in case she needs me.”

 “Whatever you need Segs.”

 With that you headed to the locker room, tension hung in the air; the rest of the team knowing something was wrong but not exactly what it was. These things happened from time to time, a wife would go into labor, a parent or grandparent would pass away; the team would rally all around each other showing their support. Jamie took control just as a good captain would, “All right guys, Segs is going through a tough time tonight. We need to get out there and help him kick some ass.”  A few guys came up and patted you on the back, no one really questioning what you were going through. You were just starting to gear up when the phone rang. This time it was (Y/N)’s face popping up on the screen; walking out of the locker room you found a secluded spot.

 “Hey baby girl, how you doing?” speaking to her more in hushed tones now that you knew how serious her concussion was.

 “The same. Nothing’s changed, which is good news. You’re still at the arena?” “Yes, I’m still here. I’m going to play the game and then head straight to you. No arguments on that part.”

 “Ok, I won’t argue.”

 “How’s Sean?”

 “He’s ok, a few cuts and bruises; but overall he’s good. They discharged him, but he won’t leave. He feels horrible about the accident, even though it wasn’t his fault.” While you were certain it wasn’t his fault you understood where his guilt was coming from; you were experiencing it yourself not being able to be with her. “Oh and my car is done for. I’ll need to get in touch with the guy’s insurance company tomorrow.”

 “Babe, I’ll handle that when I get there. You don’t need to do anything, but rest. And don’t watch the game, it will just make your head hurt worse.”

 A small chuckle, had her wincing in pain. “Well then I’ll give that job to Sean, so he can feel useful.”

 “Make sure the lights are off too. It will help with the pain. What did they give you?”

 “I refused anything they offered but Tylenol. I don’t want to harm the baby.”

 God her brain must feel like it’s going to split in two; you’d dealt with a concussion or two, and knew how painful they could be. Those times you were always prescribed something to help alleviate the symptoms; you knew a measly couple of Tylenol wouldn’t begin to touch anything she was feeling. “Are you sure you don’t want something else? I’m sure they wouldn’t give you anything that would harm the baby.”

 “It’s ok Ty. I’ll be fine. I can handle it.”

 “Alright babe, if you say so. I’m gonna let you rest ok. Promise me you’ll text or call me if anything changes at all.”

 “I will. I’ll keep you updated, but everything is going to be fine. You just concentrate on the game.”

 Shaking your head, knowing that it would be impossible to focus solely on hockey; you answered, “I’ll do my best. Don’t worry about me, you just focus on getting better. I’ll see you soon. I love you (Y/N).”

 “I love you too, Tyler,” with that she hung up the phone. Head down, you mentally tried to prepare yourself to play sixty minutes of hockey; yet thoughts of (Y/N) lying in a hospital bed crept into your mind. Still not being able to convince yourself you could play this game; you walked back into the locker room. A few of the guys were still prepping, some had wandered out into the halls to stretch or hit the soccer ball around.

 Bishop wandered over by you, setting heavily on the bench beside you. “Hey man, don’t get mad, but Jamie filled me in on what’s going on. He only thought I could help out; I won’t say a word to anyone.” Glancing over you looked at the goalie; seeking words of advice. “I know it’s hard. There were times I felt so helpless when Andrea was pregnant; obviously nothing like you’re going through at the moment, but there were times, when she’d be cramping or had braxton hicks. Every time she’d tell me she was fine and that it was ok to go; which was tough to do; but she was always honest with me. I’m sure (Y/N) is doing the same with you now. If she says she’s fine, Seggy, trust her, she is. Women are much stronger than we give them credit for. If you needed to be there, she’d tell you; trust me. Just go out there, and put all that frustration and guilt into the game.”

 “Thanks, Bish,” knowing that he was probably right, if (Y/N) thought something was wrong, she would’ve told you.  It would still be hard, but it was really only three hours and then you’d be on your way to her.

 “Congratulations, man; being is a dad is the best job there is.”

 Looking over you smiled at your teammate; it was the first time you’d done that since finding out about the accident. “Thanks, I can’t wait to find out. “ With that you both finished prepping for the game; it was literally the longest three hours of your life. While the team still fell to the Blackhawks, you were able to add an assist to Rads goal in the first period. True to her word (Y/N) did send you updates, that nothing had changed with hers or the baby’s condition; they were still doing well.

 Heading straight to the locker room after the game; you stripped your gear off and showered as quickly as possible. Monty had a car with your luggage waiting, just as he promised. As you made your way to the airport, you contacted a service to have a car waiting for you so you could go to the hospital. Trying to sleep on the two hour flight, proved futile; nervous energy ran through your veins. As the plane touched down you grabbed your bag and headed to the car; not waiting for assistance. Striding into the hospital, bags in hand; you scanned the area searching for the inpatient rooms.

 Confusion must have been written on your face, for the receptionist asked if she could assist you. Pointing you in the correct direction, you strode to the bank of elevators; which seemed to take an eternity. Finally reaching the correct floor, you made your way to the room (Y/N) had text she was in; receiving numerous stares from the on-duty nurses. The door was closed and the lights were off; but then most of them were, as it was two in the morning. Slowly you crept inside, careful to not wake up (Y/N). The dim light from the hallway, as well as the monitors she was hooked up to provided enough light for you to see her sleeping form. Discarding your bags in the corner, you spied a chair pulled up beside the bed and made your way to it; gently lifting her hand so you could hold it.

 Softly you caressed your thumb across her knuckles, careful not to wake her; yet needing to feel her warm skin on yours. You sat there staring at her for several minutes; before her eyes fluttered open. Groggy from sleep, her voice whispered, “Tyler, is that you?”

 “Yeah babe, I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

 “Mmmm….. I’m ok. What time is it?”

 “Just a bit after two in the morning. How are you feeling?”

 “Good. They come in every so often and check my vitals as well as check the baby, but they took the fetal monitor off a little bit ago. The doctor said everything was fine with the baby.” Breathing a sigh of relief that at least one of them was doing better at this point; you moved your hand and ran it soothingly over her head. You could feel the large lump from where it had struck the vehicle.

 “That’s good news. How’s the head?”

 Smiling bravely, she answered. “It’s not too bad. Definitely feels better than it did before.”

 “Good babe, now go back to sleep. We can talk later.” You continued to stroke her hair, hoping to lull her back to slumber.

 “Tyler…can you lay with me and just hold me?”

 Tears formed in your eyes and your heart skipped a beat at the request; it was the only thing that you’d wanted to do from the moment you’d found out about the incident. Sliding off your suit coat and removing your shoes; you crawled in the small hospital bed and embraced the woman you loved. “Better?”

 “Mmmm…much.”

 Pressing a gentle kiss on her lips, you told her. “Now get some rest.”

 Eyes closing, a small smile played across the lips you’d just kissed. “I love you.”

  “I love you too baby.” Inhaling her scent, you shut your own eyes and finally let yourself relax. Everything would be fine now that you were here and (Y/N) was in your arms.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nervous regrets

[dailyaudiobible]

07/16/2020 DAB Transcript

1 Chronicles 22:1-23:32, Romans 3:9-31, Psalms 12:1-8, Proverbs 19:13-14

Today is the 16th day of July welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it is a joy and honor to be here with you today once again, around the Global Campfire. No matter what time of day or night it is, no matter where we are there is this place and we can come here whenever we want and know that we’re not alone and have God's word available to us just to speak into our lives. And what a remarkable gift that is. And, so, let's partake of this gift by taking the next step forward in our week and month and year. This will lead us back into book at first Chronicles for the Old Testament portion of today. We’ll read first Chronicles chapters 22 and 23 and we’re still moving through the life and reign of David and we’re reading from the Lexham English Bible this week.

Commentary:

Alright. So in the third chapter of Romans, which is where we spent our time in the New Testament today Paul is…like…I mean what we’re….what he peeled away today is the essence or the foundation of faith in Jesus and why it works. And we have remember, Paul’s speaking to Hebrew people but we also have to remember that like, nothing that Paul’s gonna say…none of its gonna make any sense like completely divorced from the Hebrew context. Jesus was in a Hebrew context. Paul was a Hebrew Pharisee. Like, the lens that we’re looking through, even though Gentiles never really lived under that, there's no way to fully grasp what Paul's saying devoid of any kind of Hebrew context. It sounds like gobbledygook. It sounds like nonsense, which is something that Paul will say in one of his letters later. But the problem is that for the Hebrew people this is also sounding kind of like nonsense, kind of like they're supposed to reject…like Paul's trying to say the story is moving forward. We are being swept forward into the story. For them though, on so many levels it's like, “no. You are asking us to be in a different story and to be in a different story is to reject all that we have ever known at all that God has done to make us a chosen people.” And, so we see in today's portion of the letter is kind of a distillation like…like it comes down to one thing – nobody, Jew or Gentile, nobody is perfect. Nobody. And even if God gave us a pathway to perfection through the Mosaic law nobody can do it. Nobody is perfect. Nobody on their own is going to be able to perfectly obey the law and find themselves in the presence of Yahweh, of God, demanding fellowship because of their own righteousness. So, on one level Paul’s trying to say that this is the equalizer. Jew or Gentile, no matter mineral you are nobody is perfect. Nobody is a righteous. And we all believe that if we want fellowship with God, that is…that requires righteousness. So, we have a path but that nobody can follow. And, so, fellowship with God is unattainable, Jew or Gentile. So, what…what are we to do then? Like, how is it that we are then going to achieve the unachievable? How is it that we’re gonna reach for God and pursue it our whole lives and fall short in the end? How do we actually find ourselves in right standing before God so that we might have a covenantal relationship with Him? Paul says, “apart from the law the righteousness of God has been revealed being testified about by the law and the prophets. That is the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. For there is no distinction for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, being justified as a gift by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus.” This is the bedrock. This is the foundation. This is…I mean Paul has a number of arguments that we are going to enter into in all of his different writings for all kinds of different purposes, but in terms of salvation and in terms of relationship with God, Paul is saying, “you can't achieve the unachievable. It's not possible. But God can achieve whatever God wants to achieve. And what He wants to achieve is to make you righteous before Him and welcome you as His son or daughter into intimate fellowship together and all you have to do is believe that He wants you, believe that He sent His son to rescue you.” I mean…fund…fundamentally, Paul’s speaking to people who are like devoted to studying Torah, to studying the Bible, to find out what to do so that they can try to do those things so that they can get God to act on the behalf. And in so many ways he’s saying, “you can study that until you’re blue in the face. You can memorize it. If…if you're not gonna live it it's not gonna matter and no matter what you do, no matter how well you understand this, you cannot achieve it by yourself on your own in your own strength. Like, you can build all the theological formulas that you want. Just building the formula building the box, that doesn't do it. You have to believe through faith that it's already done.” Ahhh…and that…that's beautiful, that's the good news…good news and it is so good that I almost want to sit down and ponder it for a minute and come back. But we know…we…we know this, and yet we’re still so often trying to do the same thing, trying to study to find the formula, to jump through the hoops correctly and pull the levers in sequence to get things to happen that are already done. And, so, live less than we are our whole lives when the whole world needs us to be a kingdom of priests, right? To shine the light into the world, not by what we claim, not by what we say, not by our theology, by the way we live, that we are the light in the darkness. And, so, when people are in the dark, they're looking for the light. But we’re still kind of so busy trying to get the formula right that we never really shine. But fear not, Paul has much more to say. And before we get through the letters of Paul, the things that he is going to say about who we are, are mind bending. Absolutely blow your mind stuff is in front of us in these next months. But right here right now as we expose the bedrock upon which Paul will build, we understand that no matter how hard we try we’re going to fail. We cannot be perfect. And that's bad news for perfectionists out there until you realize that you already have been made perfect before God through faith in Jesus.

Prayer:

Father, Holy Spirit fall upon us with this awareness of what we've always known, but make it real to us, give us eyes to see this and ears to hear this because it's not just about our personal redemption. It is about the rescue of the world. So, come…come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its…its home, its where you find out what’s going on around here. And, so, yeah, like I say every day, stay tuned, stay connected in any way that you can.

Check out the Community section. Get connected.

Check out the resources in the Daily Audio Bible Shop for the journey. And also, on iTunes and Google play you can get the Heart…Heart resource…resource…it is a heart resource. It's called Heart, a contemplative journey and it's a guided prayer and musical journey that leads us into the depths of the emotions that we probably been all feeling this year. Their common and they just kind of come out of my…my own life and talked about that a bit as we were moving into the long walk but it…it's a…it's an ongoing thing and it's an ongoing resource that I'm using  even though I know it well and it is a helpful re-centering. It's crazy how much we forget. And it's so good to be reminded and remember, and re-center, and reorient ourselves to God, which is…which is the beauty of the rhythm of life that we have here around the Global Campfire that every day, every day we come back and we are reminded, and reoriented again through God's word. And, so, Heart is just prayers, prayers calling out to God and then giving some space to just feel, feel what we’re feeling, acknowledge it, invite God into it. So, check that out. You can get it at the iTunes store or at the Google Play store. And it's available now

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you humbly, deeply for your partnership as we move through the summertime. Appreciate…appreciate your partnership so much. So, there's a link on the homepage. If you're using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that’s it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

[sabine-leo]

Dreadful Silence - Part 16

Author: @sabine-leo

Rated: M

Genre: Angst, Insecurity, Hurt / Comfort, Humor and Fluff / SMUT

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston / You (female reader)

Part: 16/16

Note: And thats a wrap...  This will be the last chapter of Dreadful Silence. I could do an Epilogue if wanted but that would be it :) This idea had been in my head for a while and I am happy that I could get it out into the open. 

I am SO very thankful to all of you who have liked, rebloged and commented this story! I love you to bits!!!  Please let me know if you liked the last chapter! 

THANK YOU FOR CLIMBING THIS MOUNTAIN WITH ME!!! 

 After the party Tom and you had fallen into bed happy but exhausted. There was no doubt about the next weeks becoming straining and intense but you loved the rush after every performance.

3 Weeks in and it had not changed a bit. The complete Cast lay yet another time on the floor of the stage together as Tom turned his head. He smiled a beaming smile but his eyes held a seriousness that kept you from asking why he looked the way he looked. Knowing him you knew he was about to talk soon anyway.

“I was wondering…” He started and the beaming smile became a little grin.

“…since we practically live together for a while now anyway…why not make it permanent?!”

Tom kissed your entwined hands and added. “No need to pay double for rent if we only use one flat anyway…” You started to grin yourself.

“That is very reasonable, you do make a good argument Thomas.”

Tom laughed softly and nodded. “I do, don´t I?!”

 Slowly you sat up and turned your head to still be able to look at him. “I mean, why say things like I love you, I want to be with you all the time. Let´s share a life…When you can also reason with rent prices…” Tom suppressed a snort and hefted himself up to stand.

“I am glad we are on the same page, darling!” Then he started walking to get off stage and shower. Shortly before he was out of sight he stopped and threw you a wicked look.

“Ahh.. by the way. I LOVE YOU and I already terminated my rent contract. So, you are basically stuck with me! Please…let´s share a life together!” He winked at you and blew you a kiss before he left the stage. You sat there flabbergasted and started to laugh.

“TROUBLE TOM!” You yelled and went after him to not only start sharing a life but also THE DAMN SHOWER together.   

In the next week you found out that Tom had planned the move and already corrupted your friends into helping. They had been on the inside of Toms plans all along and gladly kept their mouths shut to see your stunned face when they let the bomb drop while clearing out Toms flat. With your combined strength, good planning and also with a lot of fun you made the move in a day and had dinner together afterwards. Sam had managed to get a pizza delivery from your favourite restaurant which all of you were now demolishing in your livingroom. Julia collapsed on the floor next to you and asked. “When will be your last performance on stage? I absolutely wanna be there for it.”

You were ready to give an answer but Tom was quicker. “I already have the tickets for all of you. My treat for all your help!” He grinned as Julia kissed his cheek with a laugh and said. “Oh, I need a new dress for that occasion. (Y/N) you, Christine and myself will go shopping!”  Well, you could not say no to that as you too needed a dress for the party afterwards. Tom grinned and Sam winked as he, Paul, Jack and Tom shared a quick glance.

 That night, Tom and you lay in bed together after a hot shower. Your head rested comfortably in the crock of his shoulder and he slowly stroked your back with his fingertips. “Feel any different, now that we live together?” You asked him with a smile and lifted your head. Tom chuckled and shook his head. “No, my flat did not feel like my home anymore after we spend the first weekend together at yours. I knew that THIS was where I wanted to be. That you are my home…”  

“Charmer!” You said with a smile but the kiss you gave him told him how much his words meant to you.  “Although I could have done without all your secret plans and wicked games!” You added after the kiss. “Tom laughed out loud this time and grinned. “See, I told you in the beginning that I would gladly listen to your exasperated TOM when I did something stupid!”

“Oh, this was not stupid just mischievous, and I haven´t said an exasperated TOM for now. But I am certain it will come one day!”  Tom tumbled you over and hovered above you. “I can not wait!”

His lips crashed onto yours and he kissed you with a sense of longing and rightness inside his chest that made his heart soar in contentment.

When you went out shopping with the girls the next free day after another 2 weeks of performances Tom promised you a quiet night with a dinner would be waiting for you on your return. The day out was fun although you were tired. Julia, Christine and yourself managed to find some extraordinary dresses that looked classy and stylish but sexy as well. They occupied you for the whole afternoon and only dropped you of at home after you threatened to fall asleep on the spot if they´d drag you into yet another store for matching shoes. Keying open your door and a exquisite aroma engulfing your sense of smell made you smile. You dropped your bags and got rid of your shoes before walking into the kitchen. Tom stood before the oven, low sitting jeans, barefoot and... bare-chested. Your breath actually hitched a little and you grinned as you said. “You know that you are deadly to womenkind like that ?!” Tom turned, stunned. He hadn´t heard you coming in. He started to chuckle and joked. “Should I wear an apron?” Slowly walking over to you his eyes got hooded.

 “Oh please, god, no! That would be even deadlier!”

Tom chuckled low and grabbed your waist in a soft tug. “Hi!” he rasped and started to kiss you eagerly. “Hi yourself. Trouble Tom!” you answered as he let you take in a breath.  

Tom chuckled and kissed your neck with little wet kisses while your hands stroked down his naked back into the low sitting jeans and over his firm behind. Tom purred against your skin and walked you against the kitchen table. He lifted you up with his strong arms and pushed the skirt up with a low laugh. “I like that…you wearing skirts…” His mouth found yours in a deep and intoxicating kiss while he opened up his jeans and pushed down his boxers. Your little pantie was gone the next second and Tom urged you to the edge of the table while stepping between your parted legs.

“A little something to whet one´s appetite…” His voice was a deep rumble and his words made you ready for his possession almost as much as his kisses had done. One of his hands held you steady as his hips undulated…slowly taking tenure of your hot core.

What a way to get your appetite up and running…

 The last week of performance in the Theatre came faster than you thought and you tried to enjoy each and every performance even more than you had done already. Walking onto stage for the last time that evening was thrilling but also sad. You saw your friends sitting in the first row. Dressed up to the nines and smiling your way.  Trying to take all in and store it safely into your heart to take it home as a fond memory you looked into the audience. This was your climbed mountain and that was you on top of it enjoying the view!

 When Tom delivered the last lines before the lights would go out, he saw you smiling at him with tears in your eyes. “Strike up Pipers!” Came out a bit hoarse as he grabbed your face in his hands and instead of starting to dance with you as he had done numerous times before he just kissed you deeply. The audience erupted into applause and your friends stood there clapping and hooting loudly. Tom just held you tight after the kiss and when all got dark around the both of you. He did not let go. Even when the lights lit up again and you all had to take the final curtain call, he just held you in his arms and looked into your eyes for a moment. There was something in his gaze that you could not quite place but there was no time to take another look because Andrea and her husband laughingly pried the both of you off of each other and made you bow with them.

 Afterwards you all looked at each other and there was no dry eye left on stage as you got down on the floor for one last time. Tom hugging you very close and gulping to clear his throat before yelling like after the first performance. “WE DID IT!” The mixture of adrenalin rush, pure joy, sadness that it was over, exhaustion and relief that you had made it till the end was almost too much to handle.

 Backstage you were joined by your friends and after Andrea left the shower you jumped under the hot water while Julia and Christine chatted with her. They helped you get ready and into the dress you had bought, it felt so good to laugh and joke with them after the emotional rollercoaster on stage earlier. Standing in the dressing room and looking at each other after you were ready the grins got bigger and bigger. “The Party awaits Ladies!” Andrea hooted and opened the door for you. You stepped out and looked down the corridor. The dressing room of the lads was already dark and empty. They probably were waiting for you outside to get into the cars that would drive you to the party venue. Closing the door behind her Julia cleared her throat as you started walking to the exit. “Wrong way (Y/N)” she said with a smile. You turned and looked confused. Julia rolled her eyes and tilted her head. “Jesus, you really did forget what you promised me?” It took you a second but then it dawned on you. “OH! SORRY! Of course. Follow me!” You started walking back to the stage entrance to fulfil your promise to show Julia the stage and let her take a look facing the view you had had the last months. Opening the door to the pitch-black stage you heard Andrea say.

“I´ll get the lights for you!”

“God its dark, you go first! I have no clue where the stage ends!”

Chuckling at Julia’s words you stepped onto the stage and said “There are a few meters before you´d fall down, don´t be such a scaredy-cat!” Hearing the door fall close you felt around for Julia’s hand, only to come up empty. “Andrea? The lights?” You said loud enough for her to hear.

 A single spotlight lit up and you blinked for a second before pinning your gaze on a beautiful flower arrangement. Much the same to the one Tom bought the first time you met him. Another light came up and the vision before you hit you like a freight train. You gulped and a nervous laugh escaped you. Some meters away, next to the flowers stood Tom in a well-cut black tuxedo. A smile on his face and his hands behind his back. “Hello Darling!” He said and wet his lips before holding out one hand for you. “Please, join me?!” Your heart hammered inside your chest, ready to jump out any second as you took the few steps that separated you from this divine looking human being. You took his hand and Tom squeezed slightly. “You do look heavenly stunning…” he said and kissed your hand.

 Tom took a deep breath and prepared himself to give probably the most important monologue in his life. “When we met, I knew I had found a spirit that one could only ever find once in a lifetime. Being with you the first weeks, getting to know you, was like exploring a beautifully written book. I had to read between the lines to fully understand the beauty of your mind and soul but every new line I revealed drew me deeper and deeper… without me ever wanting to get out again. I understood your silence as much as I understood your words and I promised myself to never let you get away again. I climbed a mountain to reach you…” You closed your eyes as he referred to the time were he had run up Primrose Hill after searching you for hours. “…and now we have climbed a mountain together. THIS stage will always resemble our strength, our love, our passion, our will to fight for each other to me.” Tom took a deep breath and smiled. “I LOVE you! With all my heart with all I was, am and will be…” He went down on one knee and held out a little black box which he opened up with trembling hands. “Would you do me the honour and marry me (Y/N) ?” The look he bestowed on you from down there was pure hope, pure love and such a sight to behold that this image would be branded into your mind forever.

 You did not know if your voice would betray you because your eyes filled with tears and your heart beat as fast like a Colibri’s wings.  “Yes!” You got out before a tear fell out and Tom started to smile so bright that it would be enough to lit up the whole Theatre. He stood and grabbed you. The kiss he planted on you was wet and hard and sweet and loving altogether. With trembling hands, he got the ring out of the box and slid it onto your finger before enclosing you in a hug that melted the both of you together. “SHE SAID YES!” He yelled and the lights in the Theatre came to live, illuminating your friends and the whole crew in the seats. Or better ON the seats as they clapped and yelled well wishes from down below.   

Tom took your face in his hands and looked into your eyes. “Was that worth an exasperated Tom?” You laughed but shook your head. “That was worth an: I LOVE YOU MY TROUBLE TOM!”

Tom grinned and kissed you silly before your friends took up the stage and engulfed you in a hug that felt like a thousand unsaid words of love and friendship.

Tags: @archy3001  @itscalledfandomsweetielookitup  @faeriedelalune-blog  @amazinggraces-world  @tanishahka @coniumalces @emomemelordess @drakesfiance @confessionsofastrugglingteen  @inlovewithfreyamikaelson  @heart-shaped-hell @theoneanna  @marikochi @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @awkwardfangirl2014 @rainbowsinthestorm @witchbitch-stuff  @kthemarsian @mylovelycrazyworld? @adefectivedetective @mylovelycrazyworld @shegatsby  @anchored-in-high-tide @yokaimoon

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[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

I Want to Break Free- Roger Taylor x Reader Chapter One

I had to rework my tumblr around so that I could make this a primary blog. So, I’m having to repost all of my smut. Enjoy.

Slow burn. Smut coming soon.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None. Yet.

AN: Hey, I’m typing this because I literally have zero fucking shame. This is 100% pure smut and filth and sin. Ben Hardy as Roger Taylor is perfect, but I honestly am obsessed with his Rogerina and you know you’ve thought about it so don’t judge me. So, this is part 1 of my purely sinful fic for a Ben Hardy as Roger Taylor/ Rogerina cannon.  

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She’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. Roger’s been so secretive, quietly plotting some diabolically delicious scheme with the boys. Y/N can barely contain herself now that she will finally see whatever surprise he’s been planning. He drove the car into the studio lot, carefully parking his Alpha Romeo. He jumps out, and glides to her side of the car to open the door, grabbing her hand excitedly as he walks her into the studio.

“Where are Freddie and the boys?” She asks, squeezing Roger’s hand to keep him from bouncing.

“You’ll see soon enough, love.” Roger kisses her soft hands; a sigh of appreciation escaping her lips. “But for now, darling, you have to wait here. I want you to be absolutely stunned.”

As her face falls, Roger aches. He’s wanted to share this with her for so long, if only she knew. What if she was disappointed in him? He hoped that she would enjoy what he had in store, but what if she couldn’t bare to look at him? She bit her lip, the one that had showered him with kisses only the night before. What if he never felt the touch of those lips again? He grabbed her waist, bringing her in to him. “I promise love, you won’t have to wait much longer.” He shows her to a couch with a view of the set they had built for their latest project. With one last kiss, Roger slipped away into Queen’s private dressing room.

As soon as he disappears, Y/N glances around at the hodge-podge of chaos around her. Freddie always knew how to put on a show, she thought to herself, smirking. The stage in front of her featured a small, very British living room, attached to an even smaller kitchen. She hummed the tune to “I Want to Break Free.” The song was the reason she was there, that much she knew for sure. The boys had all been so suspicious the past few weeks, whispering together about their plans, huddled around her kitchen table. Every so often, they would all turn and glance at her, gauging whether or not she’d figured out their little plan.

Y/N sighed. She loved Freddie, Brian, and Deacy so much. But Roger, she smiled to herself. Roger was the air in her lungs, the fire in her heart. She had seen Smile several times many years ago, but it wasn’t until Queen had been well-established that Y/N had run into Roger again. She had been studying in London, working on her dissertation for the history program at King’s College. After a long, exhausting day, Y/N had turned to her usual pub spot, The Shakespeare, for relief. She had noticed a line forming outside but paid little mind as she pushed open the familiar doors. That’s when she walked right smack into Roger Taylor.

He looked surprised to see her, recognizing her face from the small crowds that he had played to early in his career. Her tired face broke into a wide grin as he steadied her. “Do I know you?” He asked. “I think I’ve seen you before. We’ve never been introduced.”

She brushed the wrinkles out her skirt. “My name is Y/N. I used to come to your shows before all of this,” she said, gesturing to the people peering in the windows. He laughed. God, how he laughed. She couldn’t suppress a smile. Behind him, at the bar, Y/N could see the other members of Queen giggling and looking at her as she talked to Roger. As he turned, they jumped to avoid being caught.

“I apologize for those nosy fucking cunts; my name is Roger.” She knew this, obviously, but reached out to shake his hand. Grabbing her hand, Roger pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. “Do you think it’d be alright if I bought the most beautiful woman in the bar a drink?” Before she could protest that she was most definitely not, he had pulled her into an empty booth.

Her heart swelled, recalling how they had talked all night about everything in the universe. She wondered how she had resisted him that first night, only allowing him to kiss her goodnight at the door of her flat. Y/N watched as the various cameramen and sound technicians bustled around her. She recognized Paul Prenter, Freddie’s vile companion and manager, lurking near some of the producers. Rolling her eyes, she looked down at her watch. She had been waiting almost an hour. Curious as to what could possibly be taking so long, she started for the door that contained Roger, Freddie, Brian, and John. Before she could even knock, Brian, as if sensing her presence, screamed from behind the door, “We’re almost bloody well ready, now aren’t we?” Y/N laughed, rushing back to the couch to avoid being caught.

As the door opened, Freddie was the first to step out of the dressing room. She gasped, as one by one the four boys of Queen walked out in full drag. Freddie, in a black wig, pink turtleneck, and short leather skirt; Brian, his hair done up in rollers, wearing a pink, silk nightgown. Dramatically, Deacy posed in the doorway, dressed as a terrifying, old, British woman in a black coat and fur stole. She was doubled over, gasping for air as she laughed at their performances. Last, and most certainly not least, came Roger. He looked nervously at Y/N as he appeared in a full school girl costume. Her breath caught as she met his eyes, blue and beautiful as ever. Roger walked slowly up to her, his heart pounding. “Well, what do you think?”

Something stirred inside her that she had not expected. She blushed, reaching up to adjust one of the bows in his blonde wig. He grinned, sensing that she was pleased. “This is a whole new side of you, darling. I think I quite like it.”

Roger pulled her close. “So,” he said, “you don’t hate me?”

Taken aback, she blinked up at him. “How could I ever, ever hate you Roger?” Before he could respond, she pressed her chest to his. “I am yours,” she murmured. “And you are mine.” She could sense the familiar swelling below his waist as she inched even closer. He was pleasantly surprised by her affection, assuming she would have already run in the opposite direction. Any other girl would have. But then again, Y/N wasn’t just any other girl.

Suddenly, Freddie squeezed between them, pushing them apart. “Now darlings, as much as I would love to let you carry on like the furry little bunny rabbits you are, we have a music video to put on and I suggest we get to it.”

Both Roger and Y/N blushed deeply. She’ll pulled him in for a peck on the cheek as Freddie dragged him onto set. Well, she thought, this was definitely not what she had expected, and she certainly never expected to be turned on by it. She watched him get into place before the camera began rolling, his short skirt barely covering his tight little bum. Shuddering, she tried to clear her head as the director shouted, “quiet on set!”

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[hisdelicatelittleflower]

ADVICE | Love is TOTALLY Overrated! (But Probably Not for the Reason You’re Thinking): A Love Letter to the Lovers

Worry not, dear reader! This actually isn’t the ravings of the archetypal “woman scorned,” here to tell you how falling in love is an awful idea, making yourself vulnerable in a romantic relationship is never worth the potential heartbreak, or that marriage is not a honorable, beautiful, and blessed vocation to pursue.

In fact, quite honestly, despite being the nearly 700 miles that separate us and all of the surprisingly difficult (and fairly instantaneous) exterior trials that tested and later cemented our bond, I feel that I’m truly with my beloved.

The reason that I write this piece is that I see every day, saturating the world around us, the constant and powerful over-romanticization of love. In our books, films, TV shows, even (and sometimes, especially) on social media!

Going by the metric society around us often portrays, what is love? What are some of the concepts and images that pop into your head?

I know a few of my own: candy hearts, drug store romance novels, and Hallmark Channel-esque love stories of the two polar opposite, diametrically-opposed in terms of values people who fall helplessly in love and live happily, ever after with their two and a half kids and family dog, a big house in the suburbs, and never seem to be challenged by big troubles of any kind.

To me, these are not at all reasonable or realistic representations of how romantic relationships of any measurable depth and breadth are, and if you allow these false idols of what love is “supposed to” look like or play out to color or influence your perception of these concepts in the slightest, it WILL inevitably doom any romance you’re in and dash any reasonable hope of one in the future.

Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking…

“Well, darn, what is love, Alayna, if not completely identical to this hollow and ultimately soulless manufactured product specifically designed to inspire delusions of grandeur and attempts of self-insertion in the willing and naïve consumer so that they hopefully stay engaged deeply and well enough to keep paying for them? And, what’s the problem of keeping my hopes up for that perfect special person and relationship, anyways? Can’t a [man/woman/it?] dream?”

All right, all right, I hear you, I hear you! Calm down!

Now, to begin to answer that amazing and eloquently stated question, here’s a couple truth bombs for ya: There exists no perfect person nor relationship—And whom does this huge revelation surprise, exactly? Not a soul.

And, yet, every single day, in person and in the media, I see the same vicious cycle repeated, over and over again. I hear the sorority girl sobbing or ranting to her friend on the bus about how her boyfriend gave her a one-word response with a period in his text message (Oh, no, the dreaded period! The absolute horror!) and how this must mean that he’s no longer “into her” and that he’s most likely cheating, the guy silently (but visibly) heartbroken when his girlfriend chose to skip out on a date to hang out with her girl friends for the third time in a row, the couple on reality TV that seems completely shaken by the slightest of complications.

So, with that said, what exactly is love?

Well, according to St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, love is patient, kind, refrains from envy, humble, slow to anger, despises evil and celebrates truth, is protective, trusting, hopeful, keeps no record of wrongs, and always perseveres (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).

In a lot of ways, this definition is pretty simplistic and straight-forward, but if it is, how come it’s so darn hard to live out?

Answer: Because humans tend to be stupid, lazy, selfish, and petty, and when you’re dealing with two of those…Well, things get pretty complicated.

The good news is, though, is that when you’re able to avoid these instincts, this resulting application of love in a romantic relationship is a truly beautiful and blessed thing, and, speaking from experience, there is nothing in the world that will ever compare. It will supplement the joy and fulfillment already inherent in being a child of God and make life sweet and blissful beyond your wildest dreams.

That being said, I don’t know if y’all know this already, but relationships are HARD. With as much tear-jerking laughter, shameless flirtation, and tender moments I share with my sweet beloved, when I swear I can almost physically feel him with me, there is also tons of awkwardness (at least, in the beginning), stress, miscommunication, uncertainty, and faux pas, in general, to go around.

The key I’ve found to truly unlocking this God-given gift of a successful and loving marital vocation is to do a deep examination of oneself and try your best to discover aspects of and flaws in your personality/mentality that may hinder your ability to love in a way that adheres more closely to the biblical definition of love and honors both God and your beloved.

For instance, I know that I sometimes struggle to speak up and ask for what I want and need, and that’s something I definitely need to learn to curb, as it again, puts the pressure on my beloved to somehow read my mind. Fortunately, however, as both of us learn and grow, we’ve always seemed able to stay in sync with one another, despite some extremely stressful circumstances that have popped up from time to time.

If you, too, struggle with this specific issue in your relationship, realize that, no matter how kind or conscientious they may be, they absolutely cannot read your mind. If there are any concerns or conflicts, no matter how minor or moot they seem, they must be appropriately and lovingly communicated, and if time after time, conflicts, minor or major, cannot be resolved to the other’s selfishness or immaturity, this is not the relationship for you.

Others, I know, struggle more with short tempers, tendencies to hold grudges, or struggle with jealousy or cowardice—One of these may be your proverbial cross to bear, but I’ve also learned that all of these, even the more severe cases, can be overcome with time, tenacity, humility, prayer, professional help (if necessary), and patience, mostly on the part of your SO.

So, ultimately, what should you glean from what I’ve written here about that awesome yet curious four-letter word that we all seem to want for so badly in this life?

More than anything, I would hope, at least, that you treat love as not so much a feeling as it is a commitment—A commitment to always work through each of your flaws both individually and as a couple so that you not only bring joy and love to yourselves, but to build up and be an example for your community, and to be effective and loving parents and role models to your children in this respect so that you may glorify God. The truth of the matter is any relationship you initiate with anyone, especially of the romantic/marital variety, does not exist in a vacuum and is not solely dependent on your ever-changing attitudes or drive for instant gratification (whether of the sexual or wrathful nature). There will inevitably be times in your relationship where you’re truly vexed, beyond exasperated, or hopeless with the state of your relationship, either for interior or exterior reasons, to the point that the two of you may actually require outside, professional help to sort things out. In the end, however, love is the decision to always persevere and to fight, hand in hand.

I will conclude with the eternal words of Fyodor Dostoevsky, who had this to say on the matter in his final novel, The Brothers Karamazov:

“I am sorry I can say nothing more consoling to you, for love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared with love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in the sight of all. Men will even give their lives if only the ordeal does not last long but is soon over, with all looking on and applauding as though on the stage. But active love is labour and fortitude, and for some people too, perhaps, a complete science. But I predict that just when you see with horror that in spite of all your efforts you are getting farther from your goal instead of nearer to it — at that very moment I predict that you will reach it and behold clearly the miraculous power of the Lord who has been all the time loving and mysteriously guiding you.”

And, with that, God bless you all, and I hope you have a wonderful Tuesday afternoon!

With love, your Internet pal,

Alayna ☩ 💐

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{Original article}

#his delicate little flower 🌷 #hdlf 🌷 #hisdelicatelittleflower #hdlf #trad catholic #traditional catholic #catholicism #advice #relationships #love #courting not dating #catholic #catholic convert #traditionalism #traditional woman #relationship advice

[ephesians4-1]

since I’m seeing a lot of discussion about prosperity gospel on my dash,

here are my two cents:

To get straight to the point, our greatest accomplishment in life shouldn’t be how much material possessions we try to get or even how long of a life we have, what matters is that we choose to follow Jesus and serve others. I am usually pretty wary of theologies that people that they should want to look more like this world, and however anyone ever defines “prosperity gospel”, it always comes back to the core idea that what someone physically wants in life is paramount, and this is directly opposed to the whole point of the actual Gospel.

Besides the fact that, to follow this logic would mean that if you’re poor, permanently or even temporarily ill, or just facing a rough time for any reason, God becomes the vending machine that you just need to go to to get whatever you think you need, as opposed to the Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End, Creator of time and space who is able to give you a higher and grander perspective on your existence than you can ever imagine, but besides all of that, the whole of the Bible consistently lays out a pretty cohesive stance on physical well-being and wealth (wealth especially), and it is: it doesn’t matter.

Now before this gets taken out of context, I will take a page out of Ecclesiastes’ book and clarify that if the material/physical world was all that mattered, then yes, human beings would constantly strive (in vain) to always have more (in today’s terms, to have more money, look younger/more attractive, travel to the most places, and retire in the biggest house with the nicest cars). But those of us who live to serve God have a greater purpose in mind. Striving for material well-being is still “meaningless!” to us, but it’s meaningless because we have so much more to look forward to than this physical existence. No matter what family/situation you were born into, no matter what you are up against right now, God has so much in store for you, and it’s so much greater than simply fixing your current predicament, and even still, God never leaves you alone in your hardest moments. He suffered right alongside you the entire time. And this brings me to my next point.

Jesus Christ, God incarnate, did not choose a life of wealth or even leisure, but chose to live a life that involved demanding physical work, little if any material possessions, and extreme physical suffering. And no, Jesus did not “have to” do this (and to say so would imply that Jesus is not fully God as the omnipotent ruler of all of creation, but is subject to the needs of human beings), Jesus chose to do this purposefully. In addition to setting an example of perfect morality, Jesus also demonstrated that material possessions were of little value, including saying:

“Do not store up riches for yourselves here on earth, where moths and rust destroy, and robbers break in and steal. Instead, store up riches for yourselves in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and robbers cannot break in and steal. For your heart will always be where your riches are” (Matt. 6:19-21). 

and

“If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”  When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth. Then Jesus said to his disciples, “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Matt. 19:21-24).

In addition to Jesus’ strong statements about the true worthlessness of material gain, the New Testament is repeatedly, explicitly makes the claims:

“Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever” (1 John 2:15-17). (And lusts of the world are not simply sexual, but anything that won’t last, but that we still try to obtain.) 

and

“But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs. But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses” (1 Tim. 6:6-12). 

and also,

“Instruct those who are rich in this present world not to be conceited or to fix their hope on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly supplies us with all things to enjoy. Instruct them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is life indeed” (1 Timothy 6:17-19). 

God’s blessings toward us have never been about physical security or well-being, and Paul knew this better than anyone. Paul asked for his ‘affliction’ to be taken away from him, but it wasn’t, and if anyone is going to say that the man who possibly pulled the biggest 180° turn with his life and is mainly responsible for the Gospel expanding to the surrounding nations and ultimately surviving the Roman empire, and who constantly put his life on the line for the Gospel, as well as consistently made it clear that he was not afraid to be arrested or die, as long as he was able to spread the Word, if anyone is going to say that he did not have the faith that God could heal him, then I do not know what else to say to them. 

But perhaps what I can say is that what we are able to learn from Paul’s life is that maybe our physical/material struggle is only a small drop in the bucket of existence, and that hopefully, like Paul, we may all come to realize that it is God’s grace that is sufficient for us, for it is His power that is exemplified in our weaknesses. And we should be content with our weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake, for when we are weak, we can be made strong - maybe not physically, but given strength that surpasses physical existence. Jesus did not come to make us rich, he did not come to necessarily make sure every second of this life would be rainbows and butterflies. He came to give us life and life to the full, he came to give us an eternity in which we may be given everlasting joy, which can begin right now, and to conflate those two concepts is to completely miss the point of the Gospel. In my last sentences, in order to not sound like a total evangelical who believes the only point of Jesus’ death was to get us into Heaven (which I personally believe is a pretty narrow view of the Gospel), let me conclude with saying that the fact that God himself suffered immensely as a man means to me that suffering is deeply embedded in the human experience, perhaps necessary. Also, let us not seek to use the Gospel to find how we can demand God make our own lives better, but let us use it as an example of how we are to make others’ lives better.

{ I’ll probably make a part 2 of this, since this is already pretty long and I didn’t even get into the anecdotes people use or the story of Job! But here’s the first part. }

#prosperity gospel #long post #anti prosperity gospel #theology #christian

[paperback-writers-blog1]

The Anniversary

By ModMcCartney

Rating: T (Little swearing, adult themes hinted)

Pairing: John/Paul

Summery: Prompt from @ nat-tella

So confession time: I didn’t know the song but now I love it! Also Aladdin was chosen, hope that’s okay! I have a soft spot for that Disney film as it was the year I was born.

Prompt: What about a prompt where it's John and Paul's anniversary and John is letting Paul choose his favorite romantic (>:3) Disney movie for them to watch together and then after, they dance to the song 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' by Paul Anka.

John had woken at least half an hour ago. Normally he would have noticed the time, rolled over and gone back to sleep until he was physically dragged out of his bed. But not today. Today was too important to waste with sleeping. That idea put two quite conflicting thoughts in Johns head. Next to him, Paul was sleeping soundly. He looked as perfect as the day they first met. It was quite early. The sunrise was just starting to spill through the curtains, lighting up Pauls face. The sight was far too breath-taking to John for him to willingly interrupt. But they couldn’t waste today! He couldn’t believe it had already been a year. A year since he had officially made the most handsome man on the face of the earth his. John’s princess they called Paul. Well today he would be treated just like a princess. The thought of Paul dressed up in a puffy pink dress complete with tiara made John laugh out loud. He didn’t notice Paul screw his nose up. He opened one eye to see Johns laughing face and smiled softly to himself. “Whatcha laughin about ey?” He asked in a rather croaky voice. John instantly brightened up, hearing his husbands voice. He stopped laughing and started kissing Pauls cheek. Paul just giggled. “That’s not an answer!” “Hmmm is.” John muttered against Pauls skin making him laugh harder. He loved goofing off with John so much. After a while of messing about, ticking and kissing, Paul sat up. His face was red from laughing so much. John took the hint and backed off, letting them both have a breather. “So…what are you doing awake so early?” Paul asked. Of course he knew, but he just had to try winding John up a little. As predicted, John pouted a little, looking a little offended. “Macca! I can’t believe you forgot! You’re normally better at remembering dates than me!” “Oh, what is it? An appointment? Is Mimi coming for a visit today?” John grinned at that. He realised Paul was pulling his leg and crawled towards Paul on all fours. “I hope not. Because I don’t think she would like to see what we’re gonna get up to today.” He growled suggestively before jumping on Paul and kissing all over his pretty little face. Paul dissolved into giggles again.

Yes, this anniversary was off to an amazing start.

………………………………….

“Looks like we missed breakfast.” John commented looking at the kitchen clock. Despite waking up early, neither had wanted to leave the bed. And of course, had indulged in a little more adult fooling around. Time had passed faster than they had realised. John had planned to make a breakfast for Paul. “Ah well, maybe we can call it brunch?” Paul suggested. “Oh! So I can drink?” John grinned. Paul just lightly smacked Johns chest and went to the fridge. “What do people usually have at brunch?” He wondered out loud. “Alcohol.” John persisted. “Sounds shit then.” Paul teased. It was Johns turn to give Paul a playful smack on the shoulder.

Eventually, they got a mix of breakfast foods and fruit together, resembling a meal of some kind. Still it was delicious. They sat as close as possible on the same side of the table, feeding each other. Over all it was a messy experience once the honey was added to the fruit but neither cared.

………………………………

John had hoped to take Paul out, but just after they had showered, the heavens had opened and the ground was being pelted with rain so thick he could barely see out of the window. John sighed. So they were stuck indoors. Well, maybe a low key home celebration could be just as good. After all who cared where they were? As long as he was with Paul, making him happy that’s all that mattered. Paul wandered through towel drying his hair and pulling his face at the rain. He was more of a sun person. “Don’t worry love, we’ll make this perfect. Cosy.” John promised not wanting a single second of the day be miserable. He wrapped his arms around Paul from behind. “In fact, a cosy rainy day watching films and listening to music sounds perfect to me.” Paul leaned back against John and smiled softly. John always made it better, however big the it was. He turned around to kiss him. “You can even chose the film.” John offered. His reward was Pauls eyes instantly lighting up, giving John the most adorable look of excitement. He instantly went to the bookcase that stored their dvds. Of course he came back with a Disney film. “Aladdin? How old are you?” John teased. Paul pouted and gave John the puppy eyes. “But… But it’s my favourite.” He whined too cutely for John to handle. “Fuck Macca, ya gonna be the death of me!” John gasped clutching at his heart. “Alright alright, pop it on then.” Paul did so with all the eagerness of a child. While they were waiting for the menu to come up, John got the duvet and they got snuggled on the couch. Paul rested his head on Johns chest, his head tucked under Johns chin. John held him close. Yes this was so perfect. John pressed play on the remote. Despite his initial teasing, John loved watching these types of films with Paul. Paul got so lost in them, watching them with that adorable look of concentration, reacting to the twists he had seen a million times before and singing along with the songs he had memorised long ago.

John sometimes tried to make up his own lyrics, if he wanted to annoy Paul. But not today.

…………………………………….

When the film had finished, neither really wanted to move. John just turned the telly off. Paul didn’t like sitting in silence though, so he pulled his phone out. He had made a playlist of all the songs that had played at their wedding. John had called him a sad soppy git, but it had made his heart swell with affection.

They had learned it had become a perfect way to help them to make up after an argument.

Paul shuffled the playlist and put it on the arm of the couch, wrapping his arm back around John and closing his eyes. “Just think, this time last year…” John said dreamily. The songs played on, some more upbeat, some nice and slow. Soppy love songs, songs that meant so much to them. A host of artists from Eddie Cochran, Elvis and Buddy Holly. Yes, they both loved their vintage music. Growing up they had often been teased for not keeping up with the latest trends, for dressing like they belonged in the 60s. Listening to the same music their classmates dads liked.

A new starting made Paul sit up instantly.

“Put your head on my shoulder, Hold me in your arms, baby…”

Their first dance number.

Paul remembered when they had first listened to this song. Sitting in a field far from the others who wanted to bully them where they could just be themselves, stargazing on a warm summers night. Johns old phone playing a random mix through it’s tinny speakers. Paul had admitted he had never listened to any Paul Anka. “But ya have the same name!” Johns response still made him laugh. But more importantly, the reason it made their first dance song, it was their first kiss song. Just two boys in a field under the stars listening to a 50 year old song, finally admitting their feelings.

By the look on Johns face, he was remembering too. Paul leaned over and restarted the song then pushed the duvet aside. He stood up and offered his hand to John. Without a second thought John took it and got up. His arms found their way back around Paul. Somehow they both remembered the steps they had learned, despite not dancing them for a whole year. It felt like they were back there, in the centre of that dancefloor. Even though they had been surrounded by their friends and family it had felt like they were the only ones in the world.

It was amazing how easily it was for them to recreate that feeling again. The soft patter on the window made it all feel so much cosier.

Once the song ended Paul moved back and kissed John passionately.

“It’s been perfect today.” He smiled.

“Mmm...” John rested his forehead against Pauls, looking deeply into his eyes. His heart almost burst with the love he had for this man.

“An I look forward to similar days for the rest of our lives.”

#McLennon #mclennon fic #John Lennon #paul mccartney #Prompt #request #Man I hope this isn't a total let down

[dfroza]

the heart is given the chance to “believe…” or to reject

the True illumination of the Son and the grace of rebirth.

“The Holy Spirit stated it well when he spoke to your ancestors through the prophet Isaiah:

‘I send you to this people to say to them, “You will keep learning, but not understanding. You will keep staring at truth but not perceiving it. For your hearts are hard and insensitive to me—you must be hard of hearing! For you’ve closed your eyes so that you won’t be troubled by the truth, and you’ve covered your ears so that you won’t have to listen and be pierced by what I say. For then you would have to respond and repent, so that I could heal your hearts.” ’

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 28th and closing chapter of the book of Acts:

After we had safely reached land, we discovered that the island we were on was Malta. The people who lived there showed us extraordinary kindness, for they welcomed us around the fire they had built because it was cold and rainy.

When Paul had gathered an armful of brushwood and was setting it on the fire, a venomous snake was driven out by the heat and latched onto Paul’s hand with its fangs. When the islanders saw the snake dangling from Paul’s hand, they said to one another, “No doubt about it, this guy is a murderer. Even though he escaped death at sea, Justice has now caught up with him!”

But Paul shook the snake off, flung it into the fire, and suffered no harm at all. Everyone watched him, expecting him to swell up or suddenly drop dead. After observing him for a long time and seeing that nothing unusual happened, they changed their minds and said, “He must be a god!”

The Roman governor of the island, named Publius, had his estate nearby. He graciously welcomed us as his houseguests and showed us hospitality for the three days that we stayed with him. His father lay sick in bed, suffering from fits of high fever and dysentery. So Paul went into his room, and after praying, placed his hands on him. He was instantly healed. When the people of the island heard about this miracle, they brought all the sick to Paul, and they were also healed. The islanders honored us greatly, and when we were preparing to set sail again, they gave us all the supplies we needed for our journey.

After three months we put out to sea on an Egyptian ship from Alexandria that had wintered at the island. The ship had carved on its prow as its emblem the “Heavenly Twins.”

When we landed at Syracuse, we stayed there for three days. From there we set sail for the Italian city of Rhegium. The day after we landed, a south wind sprang up that enabled us to reach Puteoli in two days. There we found some believers, who begged us to stay with them for a week. Afterward, we made our way to Rome.

When the believers were alerted we were coming, they came out to meet us at the Forum of Appius while we were still a great distance from Rome. Another group met us at the Three Taverns. When Paul saw the believers, his heart was greatly encouraged and he thanked God.

When we finally entered Rome, Paul was turned over to the authorities and was allowed to live where he pleased, with one soldier assigned to guard him.

After three days Paul called together all the prominent members of the Jewish community of Rome. When they had all assembled, Paul said to them, “My fellow Jews, while I was in Jerusalem, I was handed over as a prisoner of the Romans for prosecution, even though I had done nothing against any of our people or our Jewish customs. After hearing my case, the Roman authorities wanted to release me since they found nothing that deserved a death sentence. When the Jews objected to this, I felt it necessary, with no malice against them, to appeal to Caesar. This, then, is the reason I’ve asked to speak with you, so that I could explain these things. It is only because I believe in the Hope of Israel that I am in chains before you.”

They replied, “We haven’t received any letters from the Jews of Judea, nor has anyone come to us with a bad report about you. But we are anxious to hear you present your views regarding this Christian sect we’ve been hearing about, for people everywhere are speaking against it.”

So they set a time to meet with Paul. On that day an even greater crowd gathered where he was staying. From morning until evening Paul taught them, opening up the truths of God’s kingdom. With convincing arguments from both the Law and the Prophets, he tried to persuade them about Jesus. Some were converted, but others refused to believe. They argued back and forth, still unable to agree among themselves. They were about to leave when Paul made one last statement to them: “The Holy Spirit stated it well when he spoke to your ancestors through the prophet Isaiah:

‘I send you to this people to say to them, “You will keep learning, but not understanding. You will keep staring at truth but not perceiving it. For your hearts are hard and insensitive to me—you must be hard of hearing! For you’ve closed your eyes so that you won’t be troubled by the truth, and you’ve covered your ears so that you won’t have to listen and be pierced by what I say. For then you would have to respond and repent, so that I could heal your hearts.” ’

“So listen well. This wonderful salvation given by God is now being presented to the non-Jewish nations, and they will believe and receive it!”

Paul lived two more years in Rome, in his own rented quarters, welcoming all who came to visit. He continued to proclaim to all the truths of God’s kingdom realm, teaching them about the Lord Jesus, the Anointed One, speaking triumphantly and without any restriction.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 28 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 19th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to a humbling and healing of Egypt:

A message about Egypt:

The Eternal One will come winging in to Egypt

On a swiftly moving cloud, making her idols quake.

The Egyptians themselves will lose heart in the face of God.

The Lord, the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, says,

Eternal One: I will subject the Egyptians to oppressive forces

and heartless leadership of a dictator-king.

I will make them turn against each other,

Egyptian against Egyptian, a civil war,

Right down to the houses within a neighborhood—

city against city, district against district.

They’ll lose all courage and I’ll frustrate their plans.

They’ll seek the advice of long dead ancestors and empty idols,

mediums and fortune-tellers.

But it is I who determine their fate.

Egypt’s waterways and everything that lives in them will dry up and die—

saltwater and fresh, standing pools and running streams will all evaporate.

All the reeds and rushes along the river’s edge will wither and die and rot away.

All the crops sown by the Nile will turn brittle and dry,

to be blown away—completely away—by sultry winds.

Fishermen who set their lines and cast their nets into the Nile

will languish and mourn.

Weavers who comb flax into spinning fibers

and produce linen will be deep in despair.

The solid citizens of Egypt will be crushed,

and all who work hard for a day’s wage will be deeply distressed.

The leaders of Zoan are fools!

And those who count themselves among the Pharaoh’s smartest counselors

Base their advice on bizarre flights of fancy.

How can you tell Pharaoh,

“I am among the long line of Egypt’s wise and an heir of ancient kings”?

I certainly don’t see any such sages. If they’re here,

they should be able to tell you

what the Eternal One, Commander of heavenly armies, has in store for Egypt.

The elite, the nobles from the northern delta south to bustling Memphis,

have been overconfident, deluded fools.

These cornerstones of society have led Egypt in the wrong direction,

and Egypt pays the price.

The Eternal has mixed them up and confused them.

God has frustrated Egypt’s efforts in everything.

Weaving and sick like an everyday drunk.

There will be nothing left for Egypt to do.

Nobody—no head, no tail, no noble palm, no lowly reed—

will be able to help Egypt.

Then, in that day, when the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, raises His hand and displays His power, the Egyptians will cower like frightened women. Egypt will even be terrified of our little Judah. Just the word “Judah” will set everyone trembling and shaking because of what the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, plans to do against them.

In that day, five cities in Egypt, one of which is called the city of destruction, will adopt the language we speak in Canaan and swear to remain faithful to the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies.

When that day arrives, there will be an altar for rituals, marking the Eternal’s sacred space right there in the middle of Egypt, and a pillar erected to Him at its border. These will serve to notify everyone that the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, is present; God can and will be in Egypt. And if things get bad for them, the Eternal will respond to their cries for help by sending someone—a liberator and defender—to deliver them from their oppressors. The Eternal will make sure the Egyptians know Him. They will know and worship Him with gifts and praise, solemn promises and offerings. After all God’s disciplining action, the Eternal will take them back with gentle care. After His punishment, there will be healing; the Egyptians will turn to Him, and He will hear and heal them.

When that day arrives, there will be a road connecting Egypt to Assyria and people of both nations will travel it to worship together, side-by-side. Our land of Israel, through which that road travels, will then be allied with these other great nations, and Israel will be a whole-earth blessing, the hub of proper worship. The Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, declares such blessing:

Eternal One: Egypt, too, shall be blessed and called “My people” and Assyria “My doing,” because I made it. Israel, of course, is simply Mine—now as before and as ever will be—“My heritage.”

The Book of Isaiah, Chapter 19 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, june 27 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about knowing truth:

The theology of Messiah insists that truth matters, and that knowing the truth about God is absolutely essential for life itself. Nothing is more important; nothing is more vital. As Yeshua solemnly affirmed: “This is eternal life (i.e., chayei olam: חַיֵּי עוֹלָם), that they may know you, the only true God (אֶל־אֱמֶת), and Yeshua the Messiah (יֵשׁוּעַ הַמָּשִׁיחַ) whom you have sent (John 17:3). Note that the Hebrew word for knowledge is da’at (דַּעַת), a word that implies intimate cognitive differentiation and the apprehension of spiritual reality. Your life is a venture of faith, an irrepeatable, infinitely costly venture.

Faith both affirms and negates at the same time. Like falling in love with someone, the cost of passionately believing that Yeshua (alone) is the “way and the truth and the life” comes at the expense of other faith possibilities -- and thereby incurs the risk of offense (Rom. 9:33, 1 Pet. 2:7-8; Gal. 5:11, Matt. 24:8-11; etc.). Does this make faith in Messiah intolerant then? Not at all... All faith expressions - including skepticism, universalism, or “politically correct” humanism - are exclusivistic commitments to whatever the believer embraces as his or her “ground of ultimate concern.” Each person has their own “narrow gate” -- though this gate does not necessarily lead to life. Yeshua taught that the “narrow gateway of life” (שַּׁעַר אֶל־הַחַיִּים) is found only by the few (Matt. 7:13-14), and this doubtlessly was said to reprove the mob mentality that regards “tolerance” as the greatest of all virtues and fanaticism as the greatest of all evils. There is safety in numbers, the mob reasons, and the life of genuine conviction makes you an outcast of the group, since it exposes the “groupthink” and its inevitable moral evasions.... To worldly culture, public enemy number one is the person of real conviction. This was true in the days of the Hebrew prophets as it is today. “The voice crying in the wilderness” often cries alone. [Hebrew for Christians]

6.25.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

June 27, 2021

Working Out Salvation

“Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” (Philippians 2:12)

This verse is sometimes used by those who would insist that our salvation requires “works” either to obtain or to maintain the “new birth.” Even a casual reading of the New Testament does not support that view (John 5:24; 6:37; 2 Corinthians 5:21; Ephesians 4:24; etc.).

This passage, both in context and by specific word choices of the Holy Spirit, is focused on what we are to do with our salvation—obey and produce! The writer of the Hebrews letter spoke of “things that accompany salvation” (Hebrews 6:9). And even the Old Testament prophet Isaiah insisted that we should “draw water out of the wells of salvation” (Isaiah 12:3).

Two parables speak specifically to this work: the gift of the talents and the gift of the pounds. God illustrated His grace by the gift of “talents” (Matthew 25:14-30) to His workers, as well as His expectation of their productivity for the profit of the Owner. Differing amounts were given to the servants based on their abilities, and judgment was based on their efficiency, or the percent of their return. In the gift of the pounds (Luke 19:13-27), God is the investor and His servants are all of us who receive (John 1:12) the gift of salvation. What we do with this gift is our responsibility. The same amount was given to each servant, without the mention of abilities. Judgment was then based on the servants’ effectiveness, or gain.

It is no wonder, then, that Paul exhorted us to “work out” the priceless salvation that has been given to us with “fear and trembling.” God is “working” in us, and He expects us to “will and to do his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:13). HMM III

[betsyhavekost91]

2020 Pandemic Ponderings

Each year, I like to reflect on what God has taught me. This year, I reflected on what God has taught me during Covid. It's lengthy, but writing is the mode I use to synthesize the things God is teaching me for the purpose of looking back in years to come.

Fifteen Things I learned amidst a pandemic:

1. God is still on the throne. Amidst elections, amidst tragedy, amidst disease, amidst injustice, amidst division, amidst it all.

I love passages like Revelation 4, Isaiah 40, and Psalm 123 which remind me Who is reigning in the times when our world seems so out of control. And the One on the throne is a God who is surely in control, yet He is also a God who rules with righteousness, justice, love, understanding, and compassion—qualities which are absent more commonly than they are present in this age.

He is the sure foundation of our times. And I needed this truth pretty often in 2020. (I still do today).

“Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; love and faithfulness go before you. Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord. They rejoice in your name all day long; they exult in your righteousness. For you are their glory and strength.” Psalm 89:14-17a

“When the earth and all its pillars quake, it is I who hold its pillars firm.” Psalm 75:3

“The Lord is exalted, for he dwells on high; he will fill Zion with justice and righteousness. He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure.” Isaiah 33:5-6

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance? Who has understood the mind of the Lord, or instructed him as his counselor? Whom did the Lord consult to enlighten him, and who taught him the right way? Who was it that taught him knowledge or showed him the path of understanding?” Isaiah 40:12-14

2. Comparison kills contentment, and Jesus knew it 2,000 years ago.

This theme from Matthew 20:1-16 has been the biggest thing God has reiterated this year. In the parable, a man went out early in the morning to hire men to work his vineyard. He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day, and they started to work. He went out at the third hour, the sixth hour, and the ninth hour and hired more workers, telling them “I will pay you whatever is right,” and they agreed to work. He went back out at the eleventh hour and hired more workers, saying the same “I will pay you what is right.”

When evening came, he paid all the workers, all of them, a denarius—those who had worked all day and those who were the last hires in the eleventh hour. Those who had been hired first grumbled that the wage they were given was the same as the men who had been hired last, who had only worked an hour- “You have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day” (Matthew 20:12).

The landowner answered: “Friend, I am not being unfair to you. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? Take your pay and go. I want to give the man who was hired last the same as I gave you. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?” (Matthew 20:13-15)

I’m not saying we “agree” to work for God to get something or earn something, because that is the opposite of God's grace. The thing that has stuck with me about this parable is this: comparison killed their contentment. The early hires agreed to work for a certain wage, but when others received the same wage as them—when the first laborers compared what they were given to what others were given—that is when they became dissatisfied. If they had kept their eyes on what they had rather than comparing to others, their satisfaction would have differed greatly.

How often is this me? I compare the life God has given and think “Um, God, you know my heart. Wouldn’t my life be better if I: looked like her, had his sense of humor, had that set of gifts and strengths, was married and had kids, had her athleticism, had his job and salary, had that car and home, etc."

I can compare, or I can choose to rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those with mourn (Romans 12:12) and recount God’s goodness and faithfulness in MY life.

3. I need to pray to know the Lord most deeply in the place He has me, rather than praying only for contentment. The end goal is to know and delight in Him more, resulting in contentment and joy- the end goal isn’t contentment in and of itself.

Paul talks about “learning” contentment in Philippians 4. How did he learn it? The way we learn anything else- through practice, repetition, and experience. He faced the good things and the hard things in life and “learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 4:12). His secret? Paul could do all things through the One who gave Paul strength- through the Lord. His contentment came by means of the strength the Lord provided, but also came from Paul having a deep understanding that regardless of the highs and lows of His circumstances, His eternity was set and secure.

In the previous chapter (Philippians 3), Paul talked about his perspective. He says: “What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things” (Philippians 3:8) and talks over and over in Philippians of rejoicing IN THE LORD. Not rejoicing in his circumstances, not rejoicing in his gifts, not rejoicing in his friends, but rejoicing in the Lord. His heart sought after God, and thus he rejoiced in God-- and He learned contentment in all the good and hard places in-between.

“We don’t seek satisfaction, hoping that God will deliver it. No, we seek God, and the result is satisfaction of heart. It’s one of the big ironies of the heart. If you give your heart to seeking satisfaction, satisfaction will be the one thing you’ll never find. Your heart will never be satisfied in things. No, your heart will only be satisfied in the Giver of the things.” Paul David Tripp

"God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him." -John Piper

4. It’s important to be bold in conversations with those who know Jesus and those who don’t.

As a believer, I am called to be an ambassador (2 Corinthians 5:20), a light (Matthew 5:14), Philippians 2:14-16), and a witness (Isaiah 43:10) to those who don’t know Jesus. I’m here to tell others about the best news that has radically shaped my life and altered my eternity. If it really is good news, then I should jump at chances to talk about what God has done in my life and continues to do in my life.

As a believer, I am called to spur others on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24-25). A horse that gets a spur in the side likely doesn’t love it, but sometimes the spur can keep it from danger or keep it moving forward. I don’t naturally enjoy entering into the hard conversations, but sometimes we need to. And we need to invite others into having those conversations with us, too.

5. We were made for community. It is by design, not by accident.

The Father, Son and Holy Spirit are in community, and when Jesus was on earth, He lived in community. Who am I to think I could make it without it?

Covid has reinforced what the Bible states as truth: we are not meant to live in isolation; we need each other desperately. So plug in and engage and get people in your corner who will call you out when you’re grouchy, laugh with you, cry with you, point you to truth, remind you that you are loved, keep you accountable, play games with you, go sledding with you, workout with you, facetime you, bike to the grocery store with you, hammock with you, and challenge you to be who God created you to be.

And choose to love your community deeply so that others can see Jesus in it.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:34-35

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17

6. Restlessness in my soul reminds me that this world, these relationships, this stuff—it isn’t IT. It’s not the destination, and it’s not supposed to satisfy.

My soul was never meant to be fully at home here on earth, because God has put eternity into our hearts. Restlessness is meant to point to the reality that we were created for more than this earth offers—we were made for heaven and for a relationship with God that alone can satisfy. I’m convinced that God allows us to feel a sense of restlessness, loneliness, unfulfillment, and dissatisfaction on this side of eternity to keep reminding us that stuff, relationships, success, and status aren’t the end-all, be-all. He is.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

7. I have to fill my soul with the stuff that takes work in order to truly be satisfied.

I’ve read Isaiah 55 a lot of times. But this summer, it hit a little deeper. “Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live.” Isaiah 55:2-3a

It asks “why?” several times- so I asked myself that question. Why do I try to feed my soul with the things the world offers? It has proven time and again that it doesn’t satisfy- yet I’m still so prone to do it. It is, hypothetically, like feeding my soul potato chips instead of vegetables. It seems to fill for a short time, and then hunger sets in again—and quickly. The things the world offers don’t fill, nourish, grow, satisfy, or help. Social media, seeking success or wealth or popularity, desiring to be liked or respected or enjoyed, to want nice clothes, décor, cars, landscaping, shoes- all the things: it only fills temporarily and just leaves us craving more.

So why do I seek what I know doesn’t satisfy? For one, it seems like everyone else does, too: it is counter-cultural to seek the opposite. It is easy, convenient, and takes less work for instant gratification. Satan is deceptive and the father of lies. And beyond that, my pride rules the way I live far more than I’d like to admit-- I like to feel important, successful, loved, and beautiful in the world’s eyes.

It takes work and discipline to eat vegetables or cook meat, but it is worthwhile. I need good nourishment daily and more than once a day. If I’m full of other things, I won’t hunger for good food. And the same is true spiritually.

So how do I fill with what satisfies? Do what Isaiah 55 says. Come to him. Hear him. Listen diligently to him, beyond just hearing Him. Through the Word, prayer, community, studying the Bible, worship—through intentional, prioritized time.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him. Fear the Lord, you his saints, for those who fear him lack nothing. The lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” Psalm 34:8-10

“Only you can quench our insatiable hearts, for our rest can only be found in your arms. Our lives are yours, only you can satisfy.” -Only you, Of the Land

8. I need to be in the Word daily.

Covid reinforced this all the more. There are so many other inputs in this life- so many opinions, perspectives, viewpoints, and agendas. We are constantly bombarded by it all through our phones, televisions, computers, and circles of influence. How can we know and hold onto truth if we don’t know what truth is? How can I expect to find hope in God’s sovereignty amidst a crazy world if I’m not being reminded of it?

Psalm 16:8 says “I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” What am I setting before me? For me, it’s usually success at work, the desire to have a family, security, and a lot more. How do I set THE LORD always before me, instead of those lesser alternatives? Also, note the word always. My mind needs to be continually renewed by truth, convicted, reminded of what I’ve been given, and encouraged by His character—and that happens when I’m in the Word consistently.

“You are my refuge and my shield; I have put my hope in your word.” Psalm 119:114

“Your promises have been thoroughly tested, and your servant loves them.” Psalm 119:140

“Those who devise wicked schemes are near, but they are far from your law. Yet you are near, O Lord, and all your commands are true.” Psalm 119:150-151

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15

9. COVID was a glimpse into what it looks like to live life apart from Jesus.

When Covid first started to gain traction last March, we didn’t know what "Covid truth" was regarding the risks, research, course of the virus, actions to take against it, testing—all the things. There were so many unknowns then, and some still remain. How did people respond to it? Most of the decisions we made and the way in which we lived was based off of personal convictions regarding research, what we had heard, and others’ opinions. There wasn’t an ultimate truth, because no one genuinely knew what was true, so everyone just tried to survive based off of the information they had. People kept adapting their version of “Covid truth” if it didn’t seem to be working well. It was a year of unknowns and fear.

This so closely parallels what it is like to live apart from Jesus and His truth.

People live without knowledge of the absolute truth in life, without knowing or understanding the message that gives meaning, purpose, and direction to how we spend our time on earth. And people think “This doesn’t seem to be working, maybe I’ll try what that person is doing based on their convictions and see how it works.” Life without purpose and without hope in Jesus would be full of so much uncertainty, fear, stress, and search for meaning and purpose.

In Jesus Christ- The Way, the Truth, and the Life- we have the answer. We know the truth: we are sinful humans who desperately need a savior, because what we deserve for our sin is eternal separation from God. Yet God, being perfectly loving and perfectly just, didn’t simply excuse our sin and say “It’s fine, I’ll forget about your sin.” No. Instead, He did the only thing that could be done. In love, He sent His only Son, Jesus, in the likeness of man, to live a holy, sin-free life. And Jesus, undeservingly, died in our place, fulfilling the justice we rightfully deserved and crediting His sinless record to our account.

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:21

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.” 1 Peter 2:24

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” John 14:6

10. People always matter more than stuff. Fight to keep it that way.

I was on a retreat at the very beginning of Covid, and we watched Francis and Lisa Chan talk about desiring to value the people in their home more than the stuff that their guests would sit on, spill on, or break. They also talked about buying things 'used' in order to keep a Kingdom/soul-focused mindset rather than a "I really love my stuff" mindset. God keeps bringing this to mind again. And again. And again.

11. Those who endure to the end will be saved. And I want to endure.

A friend asked me last fall how I would articulate the main themes of the Gospel, and after I had finished, she said something to this effect:

“I agree, but I think that we are too quick to jump from 'trusting Christ' to 'assurance of salvation.' The Bible talks a lot about enduring to the end, about holding fast to God, and about our trust in Him leading us to repent from our former ways and press forward toward sanctification.”

It made me look into the concept of enduring until the end, because that is something I truly want to do. I was shocked when I read Matthew 24:12-13, which says “Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold. But he who stands firm to the end will be saved.” Isn’t it terrifying that the love of most will grow cold?

I’m not trying to say that we can lose our salvation. I am saying if I sincerely understand the Gospel and understand God's unmerited grace, it will lead me to want to know Jesus more and look more like Him. As a believer, my life should look different than the life of someone who doesn’t know Jesus.

I should continue holding fast and growing in sanctification until the end of my earthly life.

The Ephesian church was rebuked in Revelation 2 for losing their first love- yet, when Paul had written to that church earlier (in the book of Ephesians), he didn’t give them many corrections. So, what happened in the “in-between” that made them lose their first love? And how can I continue on without losing my first love?

First, I can’t do it by my own strength. But one passage I love returning to is Psalm 92. “It is good to praise the Lord and make music to your name, O Most High, to proclaim your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night” (verses 1-2). Each day, I need to reflect on God’s unending, undeserved, undeterred love for me- which He showed when He sent Jesus to die for me. And I also need to reflect on His faithfulness and remember what He has done in my life. It will keep me aware of my need for the Gospel and excited about the Gospel.

Someone (I think it was Christine Caine) once said at a conference “The greatest testimony if not our initial conversion, but it is continuing to choose to follow Jesus day-after-day as the years go on.” The end of Psalm 92 also encourages me in this, talking about the righteous flourishing and continuing to bear fruit in old age—it is possible! “They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, ‘The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him’” (verses 14-15). Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. Are my words depicting a heart which claims Jesus’ righteousness, faithfulness, and salvation as the years go on?

We need to press on one day at a time, with humble and teachable hearts and the Holy Spirit’s power in us. I get to choose today what I value, choose today what I live for, choose today what I prioritize. May it be Jesus. His Word. His mission. By His power in me, sustaining me.

Hebrews 10:23 “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

Revelation 3:21 “To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on His throne.”

12. There are usually 4 primary idols in our lives: power, control, comfort, and approval.

And, at least in my life, COVID has exposed those all the more. But in some ways, that is a blessing, because if we don’t realize we have an idol, we won’t turn from it.

I challenge you to sit with God for a few minutes and think about these, because wow, they’re stealthy and sneaky in working their way into my heart and life.

13. Souls matter more. In fact, they matter MOST.

They matter more than preferences, opinions, political stances, differences, and pet peeves. Souls are eternal.

There are only three things which will endure beyond this life: God, His Word, and people’s souls. So what hills am I willing to die on? The most important reality is whether or not my friends, my neighbors, my family, my coworkers, the people behind me in the checkout lane KNOW the Son and what He has done for them.

1 John 5:11-13 says: “And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his son. He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life.”

When my earthly existence ends, I will stand before God to account for my life. Let me tell you, I’m not good enough to enter heaven, because one sinful deed is enough to make me imperfect, unfit to be in the presence of a holy God. I’m a chronic sinner, deserving wrath. And that’s the place where Jesus enters in.

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:21

“For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit.” 2 Peter 3:18

Jesus, the only Son of God, left his throne in heaven and came to earth 2,000 years ago to live as a human. He lived a sinless life, yet died the death reserved for the worst of criminals- on a cross. The past sins committed and future sins which will be committed were placed on Jesus, and He died in my place (and yours). He could have come down off the cross, but He stayed there because of love.

In Jesus, the love of God and justice of God intersect perfectly. Our sinfulness demands justice and payment—“the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23), and Jesus paid the debt which I rightfully owed, which I deserved to pay. The One who didn’t deserve death stood in my place and took the wrath of God which I rightfully deserved for MY sin. God couldn’t simply dismiss my sin, or He would no longer be just. But He loved me (and loves you) enough to make a way for justice for sin to be served, and reconciliation of relationship to be possible. Through Jesus.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

Anyone could claim to be God and die, but Jesus died AND came back to life, showing He is who He says He is. He is our Savior, and He was- and is- victorious over satan, sin, and death.

When I die and stand before God to account for my life, my record of sin will stand before me. And Jesus will intercede, saying that His blood covered my sin completely. The perfect record of Jesus and payment of Jesus cover my sinful record. THAT truth is the hill I want to die on.

On another note- we just finished studying Philippians 4 in a Bible Study, and Paul urges two women to agree IN THE LORD. Yes, the Bible is clear about a lot of issues, and I want to stand for what is right and true. But how quickly do I get caught up in the things that don’t ultimately matter in life? I need to agree about the Gospel, cling to the grace of God, rejoice in His justice and love on my behalf, and share His good news with others more than I share my opinions on things that won’t matter in eternity.

14. Sometimes silence and ceasing are the things that get our attention the most quickly and make us face the things we don’t want to think about.

I like to be busy and efficient and productive, and I have a high capacity- it’s how I am geared. I want to squeeze the potential out of every day and use it to the fullest. But Covid has helped me realize that sometimes my busyness acts as a defense mechanism. Often, my busyness is a distraction. It keeps me from having to think about disappointment, about sin, about motives. Rather than running from silence, it’s healthy to sit in it and honestly evaluate my heart and my life.

15. There is beauty in the mundane, and God is faithful in the mundane. And the test of our faithfulness is often how we live in the mundane.

Social media is typically a highlight reel or a lowlight glimpse. Covid meant days (or weeks or months, let’s be real) without getting dressed up, and it meant less traveling, fewer big celebrations, more unplanned evenings, less entertainment, and more mundane. But it also meant more walks in nature with time to take in sunsets and to notice leaves changing, more time with my roommates for workouts, prayer walks, and games, more creativity and spontaneity, more capacity to give and serve, more biking and baking, and more margin.

The word “mundane” even sounds boring, doesn’t it? Yet, you often hear that character is built and growth occurs in the moments in-between. And in my life, I have seen that to be true. Most days aren’t that different from the rest-- they don’t hold a major achievement or a ground-breaking revelation in life or in the Word. But the culmination of those days shapes me, and the way I act in the mundane reveals my heart.

“I tell people all the time that we don’t just live in big, important moments. We make only a few grand decisions in our entire lives. Most of us don’t have a biography written about us. We live in little moments, so the character of our relationships is not set in three or four big moments, but in ten thousand little moments of life. What do the little moments of your relationships look like? How are you dealing with the messiness that lives there?” -Paul David Tripp

I heard a Matt Chandler sermon several years ago in which he talked about the paradox of the ordinary and extraordinary. We live most of our lives in the ordinary, while hoping and praying for the extraordinary. And if every day was extraordinary, then the extraordinary would actually become ordinary.

It relates so closely to my work as an occupational therapist. People who have suffered strokes or brain injuries are in my care. I treat their deficits with evidence-based interventions which are known to be effective, yet I pray daily for healing -from the ultimate healer- for their brain and bodies. All I can do is the ordinary work, while praying for God to intervene and do the extraordinary work of healing. Yet, I’m still called to the ordinary work each day, to be faithful with what is in front of me right now. And I can trust that God is faithful in the midst of my ordinary- He’s shown it again and again.

Something else I’ve learned this year: Life being mundane doesn’t mean it can’t also be full of laughter and adventure and depth. So tell a pun, bring joy to someone’s day, or do something out of your comfort zone. And I’ll leave you with one of my new favorite jokes:

How can you tell whether a joke is a dad joke? It’s apparent :)

[i-run-with-a-wolfpack]

I Can't Help But Wait

Embry/OC, mature rating

4 - Tying the Knot (part 1 of 2)

Embry's POV - 

"Where are you going?" I whispered, my throat raspy from just waking up.

I opened one eye when I felt Nicolle wriggling in my arms. "Go back to sleep," she laughed and lifted my arm off of her. "I have to open the store today."

"Five more minutes," I groaned as my hands snaked around her waist and dragged her body back to mine. "Please?"

Nicolle sighed deeply. "You do this every morning."

I shifted my body on top of hers, nestling between her thighs and pushing her t-shirt up to kiss her stomach. "It's because you're always trying to leave me."

"I have to work," she breathed as she buried her fingers in my hair and pulled me up to her eye level.

"Call off. We can spend the day together," I begged shamelessly. "I need you." 

I kissed the tip of her chin when she arched her back and her head pressed into the pillow. "Not today," she whimpered.

I pushed my hips forward, shoving my rock-hard morning wood between her legs. I woke up needy and wanting her badly… pretty much like every morning for the last six months.

Too bad we were both dressed and this morning was like every morning since that night on the couch. She said no. Her face said it all. She still wasn't ready. I was tired of that look, tired of her not trusting me. I didn't know why we hadn't had sex yet. She moved in with me months ago and it didn't make a difference. 

The answer was always no.

Even when I kissed her neck in that special spot she liked, the answer was no. Even when we both were completely naked and I was hovering outside her wet warmth, the answer was no. 

We had both become pretty skilled in getting each other off every other single way, but I had never been inside her and it was killing me.

"I could," she offered as she slipped her hand inside my boxer briefs. 

I pulled her wrist before she could grip me, clenching my jaw out of pure frustration. I rolled off of her and stared up at the ceiling. "You should get ready. You don't want to be late for work," I sighed, never making eye contact.

"Embry," she whined as she rolled onto her side to face me, "you know I love you, right?"

I sucked in a deep breath and pressed a kiss to her forehead before climbing out of bed. "I should get up too. Paul needs me early today," I told her before padding off to the bathroom and taking a cold shower. 

As I was finishing my shower, Nicolle came in to brush her teeth. I yanked a towel off the rack and began drying my body. The fact that she never took her eyes off of me, didn't go unnoticed. Attraction wasn't the issue. I removed the towel from my head to find her openly staring at my body.  Most days I would have made a smartass comment and tried to get her back into bed, but today I just didn't have the heart.

I was starting to lose hope that she would ever want me the way I wanted her. 

I left Nicolle standing there as I stomped to my dresser and found some clothes for the day. I pulled on some boxer briefs and a pair of work jeans before sitting on the edge of my bed with a pair of socks in my hand. I felt the bed dip ever so slightly as Nicolle sat next to me. "Are you mad?" she whispered as her fingers shifted through my still damp hair.

"Of course not," I huffed. I snatched a t-shirt from the closet and set off for the kitchen.

Truth was, I was mad. I wanted more. It had been nearly a year since I walked into that bookstore and my whole life got turned upside down. I had done everything in my power to show Nicolle my love for her. We were compatible in every way.

Except for sex.

"Do you want coffee?" she asked when she found me packing my lunch. 

"I don't care."

Once my food was packed securely in the cooler I take to work, I began toasting some bread. My shoulders were tense as I stood at the counter waiting. 

"Here."

I looked over to find a full thermos of coffee sitting beside my lunch box. I watched as she poured her own cup into a travel mug and added her favorite creamer. "Ready?"

I nodded as I buttered the toast and handed her half before making our way out to our Jeep. 

"What are we doing this weekend?" she asked happily.

A sense of dread took over as I remembered exactly where I was supposed to be this weekend. "Well...I'm supposed to go to this thing, but...we could skip it."

"A thing?" Nicolle laughed as she finished her toast and sipped her coffee. "Could you be more specific?"

I ran a hand through my hair and shrugged my shoulders. "It's a wedding...on Saturday." 

Nicolle gasped. "Really? Oh that sounds so fun! Don't you wanna go?"

"You want to?" I replied skeptically. I had been avoiding asking her for quite some time. And although I know most girls loved weddings, somehow I didn't think she would want to attend this particular one.

"I'd love to," Nicolle gushed, going on to recall the last wedding she had been to. "Is it a pack member?"

"Yeah...it's Brady."

"Oh."

"But like a I said, we could skip it," I offered weekly.

"You mean, I could skip it and you could go alone?"

I reached for her hand and held it in mine. "No...I mean if you don't want to go then neither of us will."

Nicolle glanced down at our intertwined fingers and sighed. "Why do I always get the feeling you don't want me around your friends?"

I pulled up to the bookstore and put my Jeep in park. "That isn't true. Those guys get rowdy when we are all together. And it will be worse since they're drinking. I just wanted to spare you."

"Okay," she replied quietly. "I better go."

I pulled on her hand and waited for her to make eye contact. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being an ass this morning and not asking you to go to this wedding. Will you go with me? We can dance and you can meet some more of my friends."

She shrugged and turned away from me, but I never let her hand go. "Please, honey. Let me make it up to you."

When I leaned over and pressed kisses to her neck, she finally relented. "Fine. But you're not leaving me much time to get a dress."

"Go today," I suggested, slipping my debit card into her purse and smiling brightly at her.  "Call Kim or Emily and go after work."

Her face brightened a little and she kissed me goodbye. I watched her open the store and throw a little kiss to me before I drove off.

When I arrived at Brady's, the rest of the crew was already there and Paul didn't waste any time giving me shit for being late. I tuned him out as I got busy with my portion of the landscaping task.  The house turned out amazing and with these extra touches, it would be perfect for Saturday.

But their lawn was the least of my worries. As I watched Brady's fiancée flutter about the backyard, ironing out more last minute details, I wondered if inviting Nicolle to this wedding was really the best idea.

Nicolle's POV - 

"So what are you really afraid of?"

I sighed as I sifted through another rack of dresses in the third store we had been in. "Who said I was afraid?"

Kim sighed and slammed her hand onto her jutted hip. "Who are you fooling? I know you. You're scared of...something, but I don't know what."

I continued to browse as she continued to scold me. "Embry is perfect. He loves you. You guys are living together. He's been so patient with you. So what's the problem?"

I sighed again as we made our way back out to the sidewalk and onto another dress shop. We had been looking for an hour with no success. I was beginning to lose hope completely. "The problem is me," I whispered. "I just...don't want him to be disappointed."

Kim laughed. "I'm pretty sure you could just lay there and he would be thrilled." I looked up to see her wiggling her eyebrows and I couldn't help but laugh at her.

"Come on! Guys expect things and he's not a virgin."

"He's not?" Kim scoffed dramatically. "I can't believe it!"

"Shut up!" I scowled, playfully beating her with a hanger. "There is just a lot of expectation there. What if I'm terrible? What if I can't...you know...get him off?" I whispered.

"Girl, please," she groaned. "You already said you guys have been messing around for months. Has he ever complained about what you've done so far?"

"No...but…"

"No buts," Kim insisted as we wandered over to the lingerie section. "You know that boy is butt crazy in love with you, you're sexy as hell, you're only lacking confidence."

I raised my gaze to find her holding up a sexy teddy with garters and stockings. I shot her a look but she only shoved it at me more insistently. I lifted the panty to find the center part was open. "What the…"

"Their crotchless," she retorted happily. "You like it?"

"Ummm... maybe in another color?" I smiled weakly.

…

The next few days went by quickly. After my talks with Kim during our shopping trip, I made up my mind that after the wedding, I would stop being afraid and give myself to Embry. Just the thought of it had me so nervous and excited. I tried not to worry about his expectations and just concentrated on being happy with the man I was made for. 

When we arrived at the wedding, I noticed how jittery Embry was. I hoped it wasn't because I was finally going to meet all his friends. Or that he was embarrassed of me for some reason. I hooked my arm around his bicep as he guided me to the backyard and I took in all the beautiful decor. "This is so pretty," I gushed. I loved all the twinkling fairy lights, pale pink roses, and all the tiny details.

"You guys made it!" Seth exclaimed as he wrapped me in a huge hug. I had only met him twice before but his bubbly attitude was infectious. He released me and gave Embry a handshake/bro hug that had me giggling. "I really thought you wouldn't come, since…"

"Yeah, I decided to bring my girl out and meet the rest of the pack," Embry interrupted before Seth could finish his thought.

I saw the pair exchanging glances before soft music began to play and Seth excused himself. "He's one of the groomsmen," Embry explained as we found our seats.

"How come you're not in the wedding?" I asked quietly as the procession began.

Embry shrugged, distractedly glancing around. "Me and Brady aren't that close. He's got Collin and Seth standing up with him. That's all he needs." 

Embry's reasoning made sense, but it still bothered me how nervous he was acting. My mind wandered off thinking what could be bothering him. I didn't want to ask or start an argument, especially today of all days. It's not like Embry knew what I had planned for later or what I was wearing under my new dress.

"You look really beautiful, Nicolle."

I was fiddling with my hands in my lap when Embry wrapped an arm around me, his other hand covering mine and intertwining our fingers. "That dress is really something."

I leaned over to whisper into his ear, "I can't wait for you to take it off later."

I cupped my hand around his jaw and held his gaze. "No more waiting. I'm ready, Embry."

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat a few times and I think he forgot to breathe. He pulled me close and buried his nose in my hair. "Do you mean it?" 

I nodded and pressed a kiss under his ear. "Later. I promise. But you have to dance with me, okay?"

Embry gave me one more squeeze before he released me and we stood to watch the bride come down the aisle.  I held Embry's arm tightly, feeling so elated that I thought I might drift away.

The service was beautiful. They had a wonderful mix of traditional as well as Quilete customs. I loved weddings and this one was especially romantic. Secretly I couldn't wait to be swaying in Embry's arms later under the twinkle lights. 

"So do you, Brady Fuller, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…"

I smiled up at Embry, seeing the tenseness in his jaw and his laser focus. Suddenly I was back to wondering what had him so on edge.

"And do you, Casey Waters, take this man…"

My stomach twisted at the mention of her name. That name I had seen on the medicine bottle in Embry's bathroom six months ago. The name his packmates were so careful not to mention in my presence. The name of the woman who's shadow I had been living in for months. 

Embry turned to look at me, his expression full of remorse. When he reached for my face, I twisted away from him and rushed away, luckily not making too much of a scene because we were seated at the end of the aisle and the wedding party processing back down the aisle had everyone's attention.

I blinked back tears as I rushed to the reception area in search of a drink. "Can I get you something to drink?" the guy behind the bar inquired. "White wine?"

"That sounds amazing," I grumbled as he began to pour.

"You okay?"

I took my wine and stumbled away from my prying cousin. "Go away, Kim. I'm in no mood to talk."

"He should have told you," she sighed as we sat around a large fire pit.

I stared at the flames as she continued to talk to me, finally giving up and wandering back to her boyfriend. I stood up to get a refill on my wine, but stopped when I caught a sight that made my stomach turn. 

"You know they're just friends now, right?"

I looked over to find the groom himself standing next to me. He had his eyes trained on his new bride and my boyfriend. "I don't really know anything, Brady. I didn't know you were getting married until a few days ago. I didn't know you were with...her. I was completely blindsided."

"Well, I know we haven't met before, but I know lots about you, Nicolle."

"You do?"

He turned to face me as I looked up at him. He smiled brightly as he held his hand out. "I'm Brady. It's nice to meet you, Nicolle."

I laughed as I shook his hand. "I don't mean to be rude, but…" I paused as I glanced over at Embry and saw him hugging Casey. "Doesn't that bother you?"

Brady released my hand and shook his head. "It did. But it doesn't anymore."

"Why not? What if they got back together?"

Brady chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arm loosely around my shoulder. "They won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

He leaned a little closer and sighed. "Because he loves you."

….

"I was hoping we would get a chance to talk."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Casey gazing out at the dance floor. All the guys had a beer in their hands and were singing, "Sexy and I Know It." She stepped up next to me and I couldn't help but be jealous of her dark hair and flawless skin.

"Congratulations. I met Brady. He's really nice."

The wide smile on her face when I mentioned Brady was unmistakable. "Embry is a good guy, too. Are you guys arguing?"

I shrugged and suddenly felt ashamed that I had been keeping my distance from him all night. And I wasn't sure I wanted her to know why I was mad. "He just kept some things from me. But we'll work it out."

She nodded and looked around. "This will be you and Embry soon. Has he asked you to marry him yet?"

I blinked back a few tears and shook my head. "We're not...really there yet. Maybe someday."

"I'm glad he has you."

"You are?" I scoffed. "Why?"

"Embry felt really guilty when we broke up. I didn't handle it as well as I could. I always knew what I had with him was temporary, but when he imprinted on you, I thought my world was coming to an end."

I faced her now, suddenly feeling guilty for the pain they both went through just so Embry and I could be together. "But you found Brady."

#twilight wolf pack #embry call imagine #embrycall #embry #embry call #kiowa #kiowa gordon #postbreakingdawn #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilightwolves #twilight fanfiction

[forksofwisdom]

Embers of the Sun

Pairings: Bella/Paul, eventual Angela/Leah

A/N: I’m happy to take any suggestions if you want something in particular to happen. It can be something as minor as Quill giving Embry a high five or more significant like Bella ramming Edward’s Volvo with her truck after he provided Tyler with a chance to ask her out. The whole point of writing this fic is so we can all enjoy it together!

(Note that this doesn’t mean I’m going to change the plot on demand!)

To wrap this up:

Imprinting is still a thing in this AU, BUT I’ve developed my take on it for this story. If you’re interested in knowing more about my feelings on Imprinting, you can read it here.

I’m also thinking about writing the main storyline in Bella’s POV and keeping alternating POV’s and drabbles that happen in the same universe separate so that it’s easier to navigate. Seriously, go wild with the suggestions, guys!

I’ve taken the liberty of changing the ages of some of the characters. Bella will be 19 and a senior when she moves to Forks, so only Edward and Alice are still in high school. She arrives two years later than in canon. Paul and Jared will be the same age as Bella. Sam and Emily will both be aged somewhere between 25-30 (like their actors).

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Bella closed her book with a sigh as the seatbelt sign flickered on. The plane would be landing soon. She’d passed the time reading, but the story wasn’t her usual cup of tea, preferring Jane Austen to all else. She ran her thumb over the raised picture of a spyglass on the cover in contemplation. The Collector by James Fowle was not a Victorian romance, and each page Bella read dispelled any romantic notion she might have had about such obsessive love.

Her mother had been going through one of her phases when she’d purchased it, having fancied herself to be a lepidopterist after she’d bought a collection pinned butterflies in an antique store. She hadn’t checked the back of the novel to see what it was actually about, having thought it to be a guide to butterfly collecting. Bella remembered her excited gasp when her mother realized the book was about a deranged stalker instead. Another phase bloomed, and Renée now bought every serial killer study and documentary she could get her hands on, forgetting about her beloved butterflies. She’d put her butterfly collection on display in the hallway and Bella could admit that they were beautiful in a morbid sort of way that unnerved her a little. Their colorful wings were much more appealing if they were alive and could flutter from flower to flower. Not pinned down and spread in death to an old frame.  

A stewardess asked her to put up her tray table, and Bella shoved the book into her rucksack and kicked it under the seat in front of her. She put the small cactus her mother had given her as a memento in her lap. She wondered if Renée had forgotten that she’d inherited her green thumbs, which were nonexistent, and that the climate in Forks would be the kiss of death for the plant if Bella weren’t careful.

Her stomach plummeted as the plane dipped and she closed her eyes and took deep calming breaths through her nose. She wasn’t fond of flying, preferring to keep her feet firmly on the ground, and was relieved when they landed in Port Angeles’s small airport with little fanfare.

She spent a good minute hauling her large suitcase off the conveyor belt in the baggage claim. Renée had insisted on helping Bella pack, but she’d forgotten how cold it was up North and Bella had spent a good hour putting all her shorts and tank tops back into her closet in Phoenix. While she would miss Arizona, its warmth and the anonymity that came with living in a metropolis, she had to keep an open mind about Forks, for her father’s sake. She knew she’d hurt him deeply by refusing to visit him for the last four years, demanding that he travel all the way to California to see her.

Nerves bubbled up to the surface as she walked through the arrival gates. She hadn’t seen her dad for so long, and she was riddled with guilt that the main reason she was moving to him was that she didn’t want to impose on Renée and Phil anymore. They were newly wedded, and Bella couldn’t count how many times she’d walked in on them in various compromising positions. She hadn’t hesitated to bring up Fork’s when they decided to move to Florida with Phil’s baseball career. Bella was relieved when they agreed to her plan. A few years ago, she might have felt resentful, but she’d matured enough to see their genuine wish for her happiness and wellbeing.

She would finish her last year in high school in Forks, and it filled her with tremulous excitement to live with her dad for the first time. She had the whole summer to settle down and reacquaint herself with him until school would start in two weeks.

“Bells!” Her father called when he caught sight of her. He was wearing his uniform and Bella could see that he had a few more crows feet since she’d last seen him. He opened his arm, and she hastened to him, feeling genuine happiness as she was swept up into his arms. “I missed you, sweetheart!”

“Dad!” She returned his embrace, overwhelmed by his joy at seeing her. Prolonged absence from him had made her start to doubt his affections for her. She’d imagined an awkward greeting and a quiet trip home in his police vehicle.

“How are you? Was the trip okay?” he asked her, pulling away to study her with warm eyes.

“Yeah, I’m a bit sore from sitting for so long, but otherwise it was fine,” Bella said, and he clapped her on the back.

“Well, you better stretch your legs now because it’s a long ride home,” he said, taking her suitcase from her hand and waved away her protests. “I got a surprise for you when we get home.”

“Really? You didn’t need to get me anything, dad. I’m staying with you, and that’s enough for me,” Bella said in dismay. She wasn’t expecting any gifts and hadn’t thought to get Charlie anything. It seemed ungrateful of her now that she couldn’t show him how glad she was that he’d come to pick her up.

“Oh, heck, Bells. Let an old man spoil his daughter once in a while. I haven’t seen you in so long, and I promise that you’ll need it while you’re staying here,” he said gruffly, not meeting her eyes as they walked out of the airport.

“As long as you give me your word that you won’t get me anything else I’m happy,” Bella said grudgingly.

“You haven’t changed,” Charlie said with a small amount of relief and Bella rolled her eyes. She’d never liked it when people made a fuss about her, except when it was Christmas or her birthday.

“I’ve changed plenty,” she protested.

“Yeah, your hair has gotten longer,” Charlie observed, and Bella caught the wistful note in his tone. She could remember the times she’d sat on a stool while her father trimmed her hair with a pair of shears, both singing to the tunes of the Beatles in his kitchen. Her heart warmed at the memory, and she gave him a small smile.

“Well, I didn’t have my personal barber to cut it,” she said teasingly, and Charlie brightened. They pulled out of the airport and made it onto the highway in the direction of Forks.

“Do you want me to give you a trim when we get home?” he asked after a moment of silence. He’d hesitated in bringing it up like he feared rejection and Bella was quick to reassure him.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said quietly, staring out of the front window to avoid Charlie’s eyes. They’d never broached the subject of Bella’s distance, but this felt like a small olive branch between the both of them. She was here now.

“Good, ‘cause no daughter of mine will be seen with split ends!” he said with mock grimness, and Bella burst into laughter. She’d missed him.

He turned on the radio when the silence became strained, and a wave of nostalgia rushed over her when his old CD of classical rock started playing. Charlie hadn’t changed either, keeping the same collection of CDs in his glove compartment, and Bella took a small amount of comfort from it as they hummed to the tune.

There was an overwhelming display of green and gray that sped past their windshield, and Bella huddled deeper into her coat. She didn’t miss the cold and the wet weather of Washington, but it had been a long time since she’d seen a forest or the sea. She wondered if Charlie visited La Push anymore, remembering the times they’d spent on First Beach, or if he still fished with Billy Black and Harry Clearwater.

Her question was answered when they drove up to Charlie’s house, now Bella’s home as well, and saw two big pickup trucks in the driveway. Billy’s son, Jacob, was helping his father out into his wheelchair when Charlie greeted them cheerfully.

“What brings you here boys?”

“Sue sent us over with some more of Harry’s fish fry, told us to put it in your freezer,” Billy answered, tossing a bag of wrapped fish to Charlie, who fumbled to catch it.

“You could have handed it to me,” Charlie said wryly as he closed the distance between them to clasp Billy’s hand in greeting. Billy laughed and thumped him on the back. Charlie held up the bag. “Tell her thanks. I was all out.”

Bella swallowed her nervousness as she stepped out of the car and waved at them in greeting. She’d learned through trial and error that ‘fake it until you make it’ was the best approach to social interactions. She hadn’t seen them in three years, and Jacob had grown like a weed since then, now almost as tall as Charlie. The times for making mud-cakes had long since. A broad smile split across his face when he caught sight of her.

“Bella!” He nearly lifted her off the ground in his excitement, and Bella laughed, overwhelmed by his enthusiastic greeting. His childhood crush on her hadn’t ebbed it seemed, and she smiled at him awkwardly, uncertain how she should reciprocate without encouraging his affections.

“Let the girl breathe, Jacob,” Billy scolded and nudged him out of the way to give his own greeting, shaking Bella’s hand firmly. “My how you’ve grown! You hardly reached my waist the last time I say you.”

“She was thirteen. Besides, my daughter was never that short, Billy,” Charlie said with wry amusement as Bella gave a surprised laugh. She’d forgotten how Charlie’s dry humor made his jokes seem accidental, and it helped her loosened up as the two men bantered good-naturedly. It’d been a long time since she’d seen her father look so relaxed, having only communicated with him through brief phone calls. Both of them were reticent by nature.

“Charlie hasn’t shut up about you Bella, ever since you told him you were coming here,” Billy teased.

“Oh, come on. There’s no need to exaggerate,” Charlie said and turned away from them with a light blush. “Keep it up, and I’ll slip you into the mud.”

“Not if I ram you in the ankles first,” Billy warned, and Charlie jumped back when he pretended to make good on his threat. Bella couldn’t believe that two adult men, one of them being the Chief of Police, were fooling around in the middle of a street like a pair of rowdy boys.

“Are they always like this?”

“Unfortunately. Come on, you’re gonna love this, Bella,” Jacob said and grabbed her hand to lead her over to the behemoth truck resting beside the one the Blacks had arrived in. He patted it. “Charlie got you a homecoming present.” Bella felt a burst of excitement when she realized that this must be Charlie’s surprise.

“Dad?” she called him over, hardly believing that he’d gotten her a car. She forgot her dismay at Jacob’s casual touch when she saw Charlie’s nod. “I can’t believe you!” She rushed over to the driver’s seat and pulled open the heavy door to climb inside.

“Yep, I just bought it off of Billy,” Charlie said, and Jacob hopped up and hung onto the side to watch her admire the console and test the steering wheel. Then she noticed that something was missing.

“Um, where’s the gear stick?” she asked when she didn’t find it sticking out of the floor like she was used to.

“Oh, it’s a 'three on the tree,’” Jacob explained and leaned over her to point out the shift which was positioned behind the steering wheel.

“I’ve never driven a car like this,” Bella admitted, flummoxed at the design. She’d been prepared to drive a manual car, used to her mother’s battered old Toyota back home.

“It’s old, a 1953 Chevy, but Jacob here fixed it up. I thought you’d rather drive yourself to school instead of getting a lift in my police car,” Charlie said with a grin and Bella returned it with apprehension. She was touched by his thoughtfulness because she’d dreaded to deal with the attention that came with having the Chief of Police as a chauffeur. Considering the mortification of being nineteen-years-old opposed to eighteen and still in high school, the sentiment was appreciated.

“Yeah, it should run smoothly but don’t hesitate to call me if something comes up,” Jacob said, his face glowing with pride. “I’ve been driving one like this for years so I can teach you how to drive it.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that since you only got your permit back in January,” Charlie said, and Jacob glanced at the shining badge on his chest sheepishly.

“I’ll remember that,” Bella said, and privately wondered if she could teach herself automobile repairs. It was a handy skill to have, and Jacob’s obvious crush was making her a little uncomfortable. She’d always thought of him as the younger brother she’d never had.

“I don’t have a shift so why don’t we go for a test drive tomorrow,” Charlie offered.

“Yeah, why don’t you come to the Rez,” Jacob said, turning to her with the full force of his smile. “It’ll be like old times!”

“Why not,” Bella agreed, infected by their combined enthusiasm. She chided herself for making plans to avoid him and made herself promise to treat Jacob with fairness. He was the only person her age she knew and had always been welcoming during her short visits.

“Good, good,” Billy said and clapped his son on the back. “We need to get going, son. Sue needs that garden hose, and I’m not prepared to face her wrath if we keep her waiting any longer.”

“Bye, Bella,” Jacob said with reluctance but took care of Billy’s wheelchair after he hefted himself into their truck.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Charlie called as he carried Bella’s suitcase into the house. Bella stood awkwardly as she waited for the Black’s to leave and smiled weakly when Billy rolled down his window.

“Charlie missed you, Bella,” he said, and she blushed as they pulled out of the drive.

Bella retrieved her cactus from Charlie’s car and made her way inside. Nothing had really changed; Charlie’s armchair was still in front the TV inside the living room, the walls painted a light blue, and the old ship in the bottle was even mounted above the fireplace.

Bella stopped to examine the pictures taken throughout the years of them together. The sight of her parents holding her as a babe and Renée’s dim eyes and tired smile while Charlie looked happier than Bella had ever seen him sent a jolt through her and she moved on. The one hanging at the base of the stairs showed a much lighter memory; Charlie giving a six-year-old Bella a piggyback ride while she beamed with a gap-toothed smile. Above it was a picture of a pre-teen Bella smiling awkwardly at the camera with Jacob’s arm around her hunched shoulders, and sharing its frame was a picture of her and Charlie eating off of plastic plates on a park bench. They were both laughing at something, and Bella remembered that Billy had taken the photo during her last visit when they’d had a picnic in La Push.

“I left everything like it was the last time you were here,” Charlie said when Bella found him in her room. He scratched the back of his neck and gestured around. “You’re free to change it as much as you like.”

“Thanks, dad.” She set her cactus on the windowsill, hoping the heat from the radiator and the sliver of sunlight would be enough to keep it alive.

“I cleared some shelves in the bathroom as well,” he continued. Bella nodded, and they shared a moment of strained silence, both trying to figure out what to say. Charlie finally cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get settled in. Call if you need anything.”

Bella nodded, grateful that he didn’t intend to hover and set to unpacking. She hefted her suitcase onto her bed and frowned when her nose was assaulted by the sickly sweet smell of strawberries and cheap sunscreen. It was not a pleasant combination. Bella pulled aside the first article of her clothing and cursed when she saw the white goopy mess.

“Ugh!” The tap on the bottle of sunscreen Renée must have snuck into her bag had cracked, and the air pressure had caused her supply of shampoo to burst. Bella threw down her shirt. “Dad, we got a bomb alert!”

“What!” Charlie shouted. Bella poked her head out of her room when she heard him thunder up the stairs.

“No! My shampoo exploded,” she exclaimed. He was fumbling with the walkie-talkie that was clipped to his uniform. Charlie liked to keep it on his person, even when he was off duty.

“Honey, you cannot do that to me.” He slumped against the rail with a sigh and put a hand to his chest as he tried to calm his heart. “I thought you were serious.”

“Sorry,” she grimaced, holding up a t-shirt that smelled overwhelmingly of strawberries. “Think my whole suitcase can fit inside your washing machine?”

Thankfully her white cotton shirt escaped unscathed, but the same could not be said for her jeans. Charlie helped her load everything into the machine and showed her how to turn it on.

“Why don’t you call your mom to let her know how your trip went and then we’ll eat dinner,” he asked. The sun had already set, but Bella knew her mother would be waiting to hear from her. Arizona was only one hour ahead of Washington, but Renée and Phil had a flight to Jacksonville early next morning. Bella didn’t have a cell phone, but Charlie kept a cordless landline, so she sat on her bed and listened to the dial tone.

“Bella, it that you, honey?” her mother’s voice crackled through when she picked up.

“Hey, mom.”

“How was the trip? Did you have any trouble during your layover in Seattle? Did Charlie come to pick you up?” Renée asked, sounding doubtful when she mentioned her ex-husband.

“Yes, yes. Everything went well. Charlie was waiting for me in Port Angeles, just like we’d discussed,” Bella reminded her. She wondered if other divorced parents were as occupied with being the better parent like Renée. “Did you put sunscreen in my bag?”

“I’m not sure. Why? Did you need it?” Renée asked distractedly.

“No, there was a tube in my suitcase, and it burst.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey!” Renée exclaimed. “I just thought that you might need it, you know if you decided to go to the beach - the one in La Push. You know that you can still get a sunburn even if it’s cloudy.”

“No, it’s fine, mom.” Bella didn’t dispute, having heard her mother’s lectures on the importance of protecting one’s skin to prevent cancer many times before. She changed the subject. “How’s the packing going?”

“Oh, Phil’s loading the moving truck as we speak. He’s been a godsend these past few days. You know how awful I am at packing,” she laughed, successfully diverted.

“Yeah.” Bella was relieved she hadn’t inherited her mother’s hoarding tendencies. They spoke for a moment.

“I can hear Phil calling. It was nice hearing from you, sweetie.” Renée said abruptly. “Call me if you need anything!”

“Bye, mom,” Bella said and sighed when she was met with the dial tone. She rolled out of bed and went to join her father.

Charlie was standing by the stove, poking the boiling potatoes with a fork to see if they were ready while two portions of Harry’s fish heated in a pan.

“Can you put the rest of this is the freezer?” He gestured at the bag Billy had brought which lay on the dining table. She picked it up and felt her brain stall when she saw the contents of his freezer. It was packed with frozen pre-cooked meals. With a huff, Bella put the fish in and turned to Charlie.

“How are you still alive, dad?”

Charlie barked out a surprised laugh, looking away sheepishly. “I usually eat at the diner.”

“Not while I live here,” Bella muttered as she lay the table. Charlie rolled a couple of potatoes onto their plates and divided the fish into two portions. They sat down and ate in companionable silence.

“I’m going grocery shopping as soon as possible. I can’t have you dying on my watch,” Bella said after she swallowed the last of her dinner.

“Take as much money as you need from the jar,” Charlie said good-naturedly, sitting back in his chair and pushing his empty plate away.

“Thanks, dad.” Bella took their empty plates to the sink. Charlie had gotten a dishwasher, and she started to clean up.

She was washing the frying pan when Charlie drew her attention by pulling out a chair and holding up his old pair of shears. “We’re still doing this aren’t we?”

“Yeah, just let me go and wash my hair,” Bella said. Charlie took the pan from her hands to dry it with a dish towel. She took a quick shower and used the remnant of her strawberry shampoo. Bella made a mental note to restock soon, or else she’d have to use Charlie’s scentless stuff.

She came downstairs, having dressed in a sweatshirt and a ratty pair of gym shorts she found in her old wardrobe. She handed Charlie her hairbrush as she dried her hair with a towel so she wouldn’t drip water everywhere. Neither of them spoke as Charlie trimmed a good two inches of her hair. The silence was only interrupted by the soft croon of the radio and the occasional gurgle of the dishwasher. The snips of the scissors relaxed Bella to the point where she started to doze off.

She yawned and startled when Charlie tapped her on the head. She was exhausted. He took the towel from her shoulders so she could stand up.

“Thanks, dad,” Bella said and rubbed the bleariness from her eyes with another jaw-breaking yawn.

“I’ll take care of the cleanup, Bells. You should get some rest,” Charlie murmured, and Bella nodded in agreement. She stumbled up to the bathroom and brushed her teeth sluggishly.

Bella melted into the mattress her new - old - bed. The exertion of her travels made itself known, and she listened to the soft sound of the game Charlie was watching in the living room as she drifted off. She was out like a light in a matter of minutes.

Next update: The Swan family visit La Push. (chapter 2)

#the twilight saga #bella swan #charlie swan #billy black #jacob black #fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #bella/paul #angela/leah #embers of the sun #is the name cheesy? 100% but am I ashamed? nope #chapter 1 #the uley pack #my writing #alternate universe #forks washington #Imprinting #bellapaul

[celebratorypenguin]

Fic: Don’t Cry, Young Lovers (1/4)

Rating: R (sexual situations, non-graphic descriptions of past violence, language) McLennon (DUH...)

Greetings yet again from Overused Trope Land! This time we're with our boys in Paris, spending someone's hard-earned pay John's 21st birthday money. (Sorry, Paul, I love you but “Two Of Us” is NOT ABOUT LINDA.)

This is a work of fiction. The character of Sylvie/Sarah is based on and dedicated to the mother of one of my childhood friends. May she be remembered for blessing.

Anyway, this is the first of four parts. The story is mostly complete but needs editing, which is my least-favorite part. I’m hoping that exposing Part 1 in public will light a fire under my slothful self. ::lights match::

Don't Cry, Young Lovers

 Paris October, 1961

  The City of Lights was so much more beautiful, more bohemian, more enticing, more MORE, than either John or Paul could have imagined.

 Once they set foot in Paris and made their way through the winding cobblestone streets in search of cheap lodgings and cheaper food, they fell deeply in love with the city and began looking for excuses not to venture further to Spain.

 John's birthday money wasn't enough to allow them to travel in style, but it did get them a small, clean room with a window that let them look out on the glories of autumn. Paul's worries about sharing the tiny bed dissipated when John threw the window open and let in the crisp, rain-washed breezes.

 "The city smells alive," John remarked as he clambered up on the windowsill to get a better view.

 Paul, busily emptying his little suitcase and storing his few possessions neatly in the cupboard, simply smiled in agreement. He was a bit road-weary, particularly from having to do all the polite chit-chat with the drivers who'd been kind enough to give them lifts, but his heart had not been so light in years.

 John had chosen him. Not Cynthia, not Stuart, but Paul. And, amazingly, Paul's father had acquiesced to the trip with fewer dire predictions than anyone could have anticipated. He'd even pressed ten quid into his son's hands, "just in case."

 It was, Paul thought as he turned his suitcase on end to use as a night table, probably a sign that something was about to go terribly wrong.

 "Hey there." John's voice broke through Paul's musings. "Quit being a housewife for a few minutes and look at this." John beckoned toward the window. It wasn't large enough to seat them both, so Paul settled for peering over John's shoulders at the narrow streets below. It wasn't a grand part of town, of course, but it had a certain shabby charm that absolutely failed to remind him of Hamburg in any way, shape, or form.

 Score one for Paris, then.

 Squirming a bit on the hard ledge, John stuffed his glasses back in his jacket and turned to Paul. "What should we seek out first - food or booze?"

 "Food. Absolutely, food." Paul's words were punctuated by a loud rumble in his stomach.

 John's laughter was intoxicating. He hopped down and mussed Paul's hair. "Can't deprive a growing boy, now, can we? Let's take a walk."

 Following John was as natural as breathing. Paul patted his pockets, reassuring himself that he had both his camera and his wallet, as he strode quickly to keep up with John's long-legged gait. The scenery was so interesting that John was actually wearing his glasses. Looking around him swallowed up all Paul's attention, resulting in his foot slipping on one of the damp cobblestones. John reacted quickly, wrapping an arm around Paul's waist and steadying him. "Watch your step - can't have you breaking an ankle, now, can we?"

 "I'm not a fucking racehorse," Paul grumbled, but the warmth of John's body next to his was a solid, comforting familiarity in a strange place.

 They wandered aimlessly through the twisting streets until the scent of freshly-baked bread seduced them into a cozy boulangerie. Proud to show off his French, Paul ordered bread and tea for them both and reached for his wallet to pay. John stopped him with a firm hand on Paul's wrist.

 "Nope, I'm buying," he declared as he handed francs to the old woman behind the counter.

 "But I have money," protested Paul.

 "And now you have food and you still have money. It's a miracle!" John reached to take his change from the woman, and Paul saw him pull a face.

 "What?" Paul whispered, but John shushed him. The boys took their food and cups of tea and went to a vacant table by the window.

 "She has Mickey Mouse hands," John stage-whispered when they were settled.

 Paul gaped blankly at him.

 John held up his hands and tucked his index fingers behind his thumbs. "Only four fingers on each hand. No, don't turn around, you numpty!"

 Paul stopped himself. "That's weird," he said before taking a huge bite out of his bread. It was hot with a perfectly crisp crust, the inside so soft and flaky that adding butter would be a desecration.

 Evidently John felt the same, because he managed to smile blissfully whilst chewing.

 Their repast wasn't going to last long at this rate, so Paul concentrated on his tea and broke off only one tiny piece of bread at a time. He gazed out the window at the pedestrians and pigeons, none of whom seemed to be in a hurry.

 He liked that very much.

 After a few minutes, Paul examined the interior of the shop. Glass cases displayed every kind of sweet and savory baked good he'd ever seen and quite a few that were mysteries to him. Half a dozen tables, draped with mismatched, spotless cotton cloths, dotted the floor. But what drew Paul's attention was the mahogany spinet in the corner.

 His fingers twitched. He'd gone two days already without touching an instrument - he had grudgingly consented to John's demand that they leave their guitars at home - and he longed to make the lovely, lonely instrument sing for him.

 John followed Paul's line of sight. He shook his head in mock exasperation. "Honestly, are you conisdering cheating on your guitar with that tart of a piano?"

 Paul, whose body was almost aching with the need for music, chose to shoot the bird at John rather than give a verbal response.

 Leaning forward in his chair, John snatched the last of the bread from Paul's plate with a triumphant grin. "Hey!" protested Paul, "I wasn't finished yet!"

 "You know what they say: if you eat slowly, you eat less." John tore the morsel in half and brought one piece to Paul's lips.

 Paul considered nipping the finger along with the bread, but literally biting the hand that fed him seemed ridiculous. He sighed as he allowed John to pop the bread in his mouth, his gaze still focused on the piano.

 "We couldn't very well bring both guitars along, and we can't share, now, can we, since you need yours upside-down?"

 It shouldn't have stunned Paul that John was reading his mind. It happened far too frequently to have any element of surprise left, yet every time they finished one another's thoughts, Paul felt a tiny jolt like an electrical charge.

 The same charge went through him whenever John touched him, as he did now when he leaned forward to flick a crumb from the corner of Paul's downturned mouth. "Are you still hungry?" John asked.

 "No," Paul lied, but the hesitation in his voice didn't fool John at all.

 "Let's get you something else," he offered.

 "I'm not hungry."

 "Rubbish. And if I take you back to England looking like a starving waif, your dad will have my guts for garters!"

 "John, I'm fine, really, just let me finish the tea and--"

 Out of the corner of his eye Paul saw a plate with four piping-hot croissants being set on their table. He realized that he was looking directly at the old woman's deformed hand, then averted his gaze with a guilty start and began to sputter. "Ce ne sont, uh, pas, uh, le nôtre...n'avons, uh, pas d'argent..."

 "I speak English," the woman said kindly, circumventing the need for Paul's schoolboy French. Her voice was accented in a language Paul didn't recognize. "Please, they are old and must not go to waste."

 Paul opened his mouth to protest - the food was clearly fresh from the oven - but John interrupted. "That's very nice, thank you." His voice was soft, free from jest or sarcasm, which left Paul as curious as he was ravenous.

 When the woman smiled, Paul was surprised to realize that she wasn't as old as she seemed. She was probably in her early forties; her prematurely gray hair and the scars on her hands had been deceptive. Paul could see that John was not looking at her face but her arm, and when he glanced over he could see some crudely tattooed numbers just below the crook of her elbow.

 When John kicked his ankle under the table and made a "you're embarrassing me" face, Paul realized that he was staring. He forced his gaze upward again and said, "Merci - thank you very much" as the woman walked away.

 Unusually sober-faced, John sat utterly still for several moments, not touching the food but regarding it with a strangely abstracted expression. "What?" asked Paul around a mouthful of croissant.

 "You saw it," was John's terse answer, and Paul knew he meant the tattoo rather than the scarring. "I've heard about them, but I've never seen one. Shit." John ran his hands through his hair until it nearly stood on end. "Jesus, that's just wrong."

 Paul turned the words over in his mind for a few moments before the realization dawned. They'd been numbered with tattoos in concentration camps, the Jews and  everyone else HItler had wanted to kill. "So she's..."

 "Yeah."

 Paul's chest felt tight. He struggled to swallow, washing the food down with a gulp of the cooling tea. He'd heard his relatives talk in horrified whispers, their voices kept low "to spare the children," but it had never seemed real to him. To boys his age, the war was a dim memory, kept alive by the shadows of rationing and poverty that were only now beginning to lift.

 "And I thought it was a drag that we couldn't get sugar," John said, completing Paul's thoughts yet again. He picked up a croissant and began to eat it. "We've led pretty charmed lives by comparison, haven't we?"

 "I'd never thought of it that way." Paul knew he sounded as dazed as he felt. His life hadn't felt charmed, not since his mother's illness and death followed by his family's slide toward impoverished gentility, and he certainly wouldn't describe John's life that way. But compared to this woman and the story they'd only seen on the surface, Paul and John were princes of the realm.

 They finished their food, rising to thank the woman - the lady, Paul corrected himself in his head - before setting out to find enough cheap red wine to keep them merrily tipsy for the rest of the evening. John procured two bottles from a nearby shop and handed one to Paul.

 "What should we do tomorrow?" John asked.

 Paul, who wanted to "see the sights" without knowing exactly what they were, shrugged. "Up to you. It's your birthday party, you know."

 "Best birthday ever, and I haven't even had it yet," John said with a wide smile. "There are bohemian delights galore here, and wine to drink our health with. What else could two young, adventuresome lads ask for?"

 "A girl who won't give me the clap," Paul said archly. The rest of the group had never, ever let him hear the end of the Hamburg debacle so he tended to bring it up himself to lessen the painful inevitability.

 The sparkle in John's eyes dimmed somewhat. Surprised, Paul raised an eyebrow at him but John turned away and was silent for the rest of the walk back to their hotel.

 They climbed the narrow, dark staircase and opened the door to their room. John had left the window slightly open to freshen the air, and now the room was far cooler than Paul could have wished. He shivered a bit and drew his jacket more tightly around himself. "Mind if I shut the window? Getting a bit brisk in here."

 "Be my guest," John said in a listless tone as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

 Paul had no idea how in the world he could have offended his mercurial friend, but he knew better than to ask. He closed the window gently instead, then he took a seat next to John and slung one arm around his shoulders. "I know I'm your guest, and don't think for a moment that I'm not grateful, 'cause I really, really am."

 John blinked at him a few times, then shook himself from head to toe like a dog emerging from a puddle. "Sorry, I'm just knackered. Don't mind me." He set his bottle of wine on the floor next to the bed. "I'll save it for tomorrow, I think. Gonna turn in, maybe get an early start in the morning."

 Despite residual anxiety about John's changing moods, Paul got to his feet and went to the cupboard to get his pyjamas. He changed quickly, shivering with the cold. In his peripheral vision he could see John doing the same and then rushing to the sink to clean his teeth. Paul followed suit, taking care to wash his face carefully as well. It wouldn't do to get a pimple during such a grown-up adventure.

 By the time he finished, John had rearranged the covers and pillows on the bed to make one little nest for each of them. Top-and-tail. John surveyed his handiwork with a frown. "I've seen bigger postage stamps. I'm liable to get your foot in my face all night long, smelling of God knows what."

 "My feet are daisies compared to yours." Paul knew that his new-found devotion to hygeine was the laughingstock of his bandmates, so he used it to toss a bone to John, to get him to laugh.

 It worked. John's sour face crumbled and he favored Paul with a genuine smile as he snuggled down under the covers. "Night, then."

 "Good night, Johnny." Paul crawled into his little space and twisted around, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't encroach on John's area. Given that they were two long-legged boys trying to share one narrow bed, his efforts met with no success. Every time he drifted off, a bony ankle would connect sharply with his ear, or he'd feel John swat at his shins.

 It was also cold, far colder than Paul had expected, and he began to shiver.

 He felt a shift in the bed and bedclothes. When he opened his eyes, there was John, leaning over him. "Best come up here with me," John said, a little quickly, adding, "There's only one proper blanket anyway, and it's too cold in here to fuss about your modesty."

 Relieved that he might actually get some sleep, Paul moved his pillow next to John's and curled up on his side with John behind him. John was always a few degrees warmer than most people, so he was like a living, breathing hot water bottle, albeit one with pointy elbows. As Paul relaxed into slumber, he was dimly aware of John tucking the bedspread around him and whispering something into his ear that was too soft to understand.

 ***

#fic #McLennon #McLennon fic