#12 promises made by Jesus

[thecatholiccrusade]

The 12 Promises of the Sacred Heart

There’s a beloved and powerful image of Jesus found hanging in many churches and homes, one that has become an iconic representation of our Catholic faith: the Sacred Heart. In this depiction, Jesus is shown with His heart exposed, encircled by a crown of thorns, and bearing a cross and a lance wound – a poignant symbol of His boundless love and sacrifice. As Catholics, we revere this image, but…

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : (This is actually now the longest chapter so far, 6.3k words, a lot does happen but good jesus just wait for the next few, will try my best to keep word counts down but cant guarentee!) MDNI, angst, fluff, tension, guilt, cheating (do not), betrayal, suggestive

Matt’s POV

As the night passed by, we both started to drift off, the warmth of her body curled up against mine calming me into a deep, peaceful sleep. It was the kind of sleep that comes after a long day, after a whirlwind of emotions, content but heavy, like my body was finally letting go of all the tension I’d been holding onto.

At some point, I woke up. The room was still and dark, the only sound being the gentle rhythm of Y/n's breathing beside me. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess. I wondered what time it was so I reached for my jacket for my phone. Only to realise I hadn’t brought it in with me, I left it in the car. I felt a slight pang of anxiety. Nick and Chris were probably wondering where the hell I was, and I hadn’t even thought to check in.

Carefully, I reached over Y/n, my fingers brushing against her phone on the nightstand. I tapped the screen, squinting at the sudden burst of light. 2:42 AM. It was later than I thought. But what really caught my eye was the mountain of notifications on her screen, texts from Alex, trying to reach her.

A tightness settled in my chest as I stared at the notifications. I didn’t read them, but I could imagine the contents. I didn’t want to think about Alex or Emily right now, but reality was creeping back in, reminding me of the complications we’d have to face.

I sighed quietly, not wanting to wake Y/n, but knowing I needed to figure out what to do next. I carefully started to slide out of bed, trying not to disturb her, but she shifted slightly as I moved, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Matt?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay” I whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

But she was already awake, her eyes focusing on me in the dim light. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“I just realized I left my phone in the car” I explained softly. “I’m going to grab it, and then I’ll be back.”

She nodded sleepily, her hand reaching out to touch my arm as if to anchor me there for just a moment longer. “Don’t take too long” she whispered, her eyes already starting to close again.

“I won’t” I promised, leaning down to kiss her once more, this time on her lips, a lingering, gentle kiss that I hoped would reassure her.

I slowly pulled away, slipping out of bed and quietly making my way to the door. I paused for a moment, glancing back at her, her figure outlined softly by the glow of the street lights outside. Even in the dim light, she looked peaceful, beautiful.

With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it gently behind me. I opened the front door and made my way down to the car. But as I walked, the weight of what had just happened began to press down on me. We’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed, and I wasn’t sure what came next. All I knew was that, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be..

The car sat parked out front, dimly lit by the street lights, and I could see my phone lying on the passenger seat through the window. As I reached the car, I unlocked it and opened the door, grabbing my phone and immediately tapping on the screen.

The screen lit up, and the notifications began to flood in. First from Emily, then Nick, and finally Chris. My stomach tightened as I saw Emily’s name at the top of the list. I hadn’t wanted to deal with this yet, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice.

Emily had sent a string of messages:

“Matt, where are you?” 

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

 “Who are you with?”

 “Are you with Y/n? Tell me the truth.”

 “Matt, answer me. Don’t ignore me like this.”

My jaw clenched as I scrolled through her texts. Her tone was sharp, accusatory. Then there were the missed calls - several from her, and one from Nick.

I swiped over to Nick’s messages next, hoping for something less stressful:

“Bitch, where’d you go?” 

“Can you let me know you’re good? We haven’t heard from you.” 

“Chris is getting worried, Nate is literally consoling him because he thinks you’re dead. Let us know you’re okay.”

Chris’s messages were much the same, filled with concern rather than annoyance. They weren’t used to me disappearing like this, especially without a word. They were probably wondering if something had happened.

I leaned back against the car seat, staring at the screen as if it might offer some sort of solution. Emily was spiraling, Nick and Chris were worried, and I was caught in the middle of it all, not wanting to explain where I’d been or what I’d been doing.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to start with Nick and Chris. I shot off a quick text to both of them:

“Hey, sorry for disappearing. I’m fine don’t worry, I’ll explain tomorrow.”

That should hold them off for now.

Then I turned back to Emily’s messages, hesitating for a moment before typing out a response. I wasn’t in the mood to argue or get into anything with her, not after the night I’d just had. But I knew if I didn’t answer, it would only get worse.

“Emily, I’m fine. I’ll call you in the morning.” I typed out, but before I could send it, another message from her popped up.

“If you’re with Y/n, I swear to God, Matt. Don’t you dare lie to me.”

My frustration spiked as I read her words. I’d had enough for one night. I deleted the message I was going to send and locked the phone, shoving it into my pocket.

Leaning back against the car, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. The cool breeze helped clear my head a bit, but it didn’t ease the frustration building up inside me. I needed to figure out how to handle this, how to deal with Emily and everything that had happened tonight. But for now, I just wanted to get back to Y/n.

As I walked back up the steps to Y/n’s apartment, the weight of everything that had happened started to settle in. I knew I couldn’t just stay the night, not without raising more questions - questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Nick and Chris were already worried, and disappearing like this wasn’t something I typically did. If I stayed, it would only complicate things further, especially when I had a girlfriend.

Reaching the door, I hesitated for a moment before letting myself in. The apartment was quiet, the only sound was the faint buzz of the city outside. I made my way back to Y/n’s room, the warmth of the space immediately comforting after the cold outside.

Y/n was lying in bed, her eyes half closed as she looked up at me. The sight of her, wrapped up in the sheets, made me want to crawl back in beside her and forget about everything else. But I knew I couldn’t. Not tonight.

“Hey” I said softly, trying to keep my voice even. “I need to go.”

Her eyes opened wider, a mix of confusion and concern flashing across her face. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nick and Chris are getting worried” I explained, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like me to just disappear like that, and I can’t exactly say I’m staying with you… It would be a bit suspicious.”

She nodded slowly, her expression understanding but tinged with disappointment. “Yeah, I get it.”

I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

She gave me a small smile, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. “Okay.”

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I wanted to stay. I wanted to be here with her, but I knew the reality of the situation wouldn’t allow it.

“I’ll text you when I get home” I promised as I stood up, trying to reassure both her and myself.

She nodded again, her eyes following me as I moved toward the door. I paused for a second, taking in the sight of her one last time before forcing myself to turn away.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Matt.”

I left the apartment, the door closing softly behind me, and the sense of finality hit me like a ton of bricks. But for now, I had to focus on getting home and figuring out how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions and responsibilities that awaited me there.

When I finally pulled into the garage, I could see the lights still on in the house. I hoped, for once, that Nick and Chris had called it a night. The last thing I needed was to explain where I’d been and make things even more complicated. But, of course, things never seemed to go that smoothly.

I opened the door from the garage into the hallway, trying to sneak past Chris’ room without a sound. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I heard the floor creak and Chris’ voice came from his room, full of concern, while Nate was passed out on his bed.

“Matt, holy fuck, where have you been? You worried me.” Chris said, stepping into the hallway, his eyes wide with worry.

Before I could fully process a response, I heard Nick’s footsteps coming down the stairs from the kitchen. Great. Just what I needed - a late night interrogation from both of them.

“I’m fine, man” I started, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I was with Y/n. She needed to vent about Alex, so we went for a walk.”

Chris seemed to relax a bit, but I could see the curiosity still flickering in his eyes. Nick, on the other hand, looked less convinced as he joined us at the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m surprised she didn’t text me to talk..” Nick said, his voice full of suspicion.

I forced a shrug, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. Lie again. “Yeah, I guess she just thought it would be easier, you know? Since I’m with Emily.. and she’s with Alex.. and they’re away together right now..”

I could see the cogs turning in Nick's head. “That’s fair.” He said with a nod.

Chris seemed to accept it straight away, nodding slowly. “Okay, but next time, just shoot us a text or something. You know, so we don’t think you’ve gone missing or whatever.”

I nodded, grateful that he was letting it go. “Yeah, I will. Sorry about that.”

Nick still looked a little suspicious, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he just gave me a nod and turned to head back upstairs. “Alright. Just don’t disappear like that again.”

“Got it” I said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

As they both headed back to their rooms, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. That was too close. I had to be more careful going forward. This double life I was starting to live was already beginning to catch up with me, and I couldn’t afford any more slip ups. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

Y/n’s POV

After Matt left, I sat there for a moment, the room suddenly feeling much emptier without him in it. I reached for my phone, not really expecting much, but when the screen lit up, a flood of notifications greeted me. All from Alex.

I hesitated for a moment before opening my messages, curiosity getting the better of me despite the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach. As soon as I saw Alex's name, the reality of everything came rushing back.

There were several texts, all sent in quick succession. The first few were relatively tame, almost normal.

Alex: "Hey, you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a bit."

"Miss you, babe. Did you hear anything from the board yet? I’m stressin’ out over here."

But then they started to take a different tone.

Alex: "Why aren't you responding?" "Y/n, what's going on?" "Did I do something wrong? Just talk to me."

His last message, sent just minutes ago, made my stomach turn.

Alex: "Are you seriously ignoring me? I’m starting to lose it over here. I haven’t done anything wrong. Please just answer me."

I stared at the screen, my heart heavy with guilt. I should have responded, but what could I even say? The truth was, I couldn’t bring myself to care as much as I used to. Not after everything that had happened between us - or rather, everything that hadn’t happened but should have.

My thoughts were still on Matt, the way he made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Something real, something more than the hollow connection I’d been clinging to with Alex.

But seeing these messages.. it brought everything crashing back down. The reality of my relationship with Alex, the fact that he was still out there, believing we were okay. That he was still my boyfriend.

But after what Jess had told me, and after what I know now, how could I continue on with him? It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about everything he had done - things I could no longer ignore, things that made it impossible for me to keep pretending.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if Matt might be regretting everything. Maybe he didn’t want to get involved in this mess. Maybe he was already pulling away.

What if Matt was regretting everything? What if that’s the real reason he left? The thought clawed at me, making my chest tighten with uncertainty. He had to go home to his brothers, sure, but what if he was using that as an excuse?

What if he doesn’t really like me like that?

I replayed the night over and over in my mind, analyzing every little thing he’d said, every touch, every glance. It all felt so real in the moment, so intense. But now, alone in the silence of my apartment, it was easy to start questioning everything.

“My girl.”

The memory of him calling me that during our time together stuck in my mind, refusing to let go. He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it, right? He wouldn’t have looked at me the way he did, wouldn’t have touched me with such tenderness, if it didn’t mean something to him.. right?

But then again, people say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was just that - a moment. Maybe, now that he’s had time to think about it, he’s regretting it. Regretting me.

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me stubbornly. I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel. Everything was so confusing, so tangled up in emotions that I didn’t know how to sort through.

What I did know was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way he made me feel, about the way I wanted more. And that scared me. Because wanting more from Matt meant stepping into territory that was messy and complicated. Territory that could end up hurting both of us.

But as much as I tried to reason with myself, the truth was, I didn’t want to let go of the memory of him. Of the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. The way he looked at me, touched me, spoke to me.

I didn’t want to lose that. Not yet.

So, I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. That “my girl” wasn’t just something he said in the moment, but something he meant. Something he wanted. Something that wasn’t going to disappear with the morning light.

As I lay in bed, still tangled in my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. A message from Matt.

Matt: "Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home safe. Talk to you tomorrow?"

A wave of relief washed over me. The simple message brought me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. If Matt had regretted anything, surely he wouldn't have bothered to check in. The knot in my stomach loosened just a bit, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

I placed my phone on the nightstand, trying to let the comfort of Matt’s words put me back to sleep. But just as I was about to close my eyes, another notification lit up my screen. This time, it was from Nick.

Nick 💜: "Hey, just checking in. Matt mentioned you needed to vent about Alex. You okay? Want to meet up for brunch tomorrow?"

I stared at the message, feeling a mix of emotions. Matt had covered for us, but Nick was still concerned. It made sense, he was always looking out for me. Part of me felt guilty for dragging Matt into this, for making things more complicated. But another part of me was grateful. Grateful for the friends I had, even if things were getting messier by the day.

I quickly typed out a response.

Me: "Thanks for checking in, Nick. I’m okay. Brunch sounds good."

I hit send and then put my phone down again, hoping that this time, sleep would come a little easier. But even as I closed my eyes, my mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened tonight. Everything that was yet to come.

The next morning, I got up after a good lie in, feeling all of the emotions still from last night. After a quick shower, I dressed casually and headed out to meet Nick, Matt, and Chris for brunch. I decided to make my own way there, as where we were meeting was right in the middle for both of us.I knew they had to go out of their way to drop Nate off at the airport. He decided he was going to meet some friends in Hawaii for a few days and would come back and stay with the triplets after.

As I walked into the small cafe we’d picked, I spotted them at a corner table. Matt saw me first and gave me a small, reassuring smile that I tried to return. Nick was busy reading through the menu, and Chris was sipping on his can of Pepsi. I slid into the seat beside Matt, catching Nick’s attention.

“Hey, you made it” Nick said with a warm grin. “How’re you feeling?”

I nodded, trying to keep things light. “Uh, better, yeah.. Thanks for checking in last night.”

Chris glanced between the two of us, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’s the story with Alex? You okay?”

Matt’s hand briefly brushed against my knee under the table, a subtle, comforting gesture that did more for me than any words could have.

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s been complicated. Alex and I.. we’re not in a good place, and I think last night everything just got brought to the surface.”

Nick nodded, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better than to be dealing with all that.”

I appreciated their support, but they didn’t know the whole truth. I knew it was time to address Alex’s messages. I’d avoided them long enough, and the longer I waited, the more it felt like a weight hanging over me. I excused myself from the table, asking Matt to order me the blueberry pancakes if a waitress came around. 

I walked to the bathroom and into a stall. I pulled out my phone, the screen lighting up with a new string of messages from Alex. I stared at them, feeling a strange mix of anger and pity. I knew I had to reply, to say something that would put this to rest. But I also knew that I couldn’t give him the comfort he was looking for, not when I’d already made up my mind about us.

With a deep breath, I began to type.

Me:"Alex, I got the email from the board. You’re suspended for another six weeks, and they’ve stripped your captaincy. I’m sorry, but I think we need to talk when you get back. There are some things we need to figure out."

It was blunt, but I couldn’t bring myself to sugarcoat it. The truth was, our relationship was already over, I was just waiting for him to realize it too.

But I couldn't bring myself to hit send. I deleted the whole paragraph I’d typed out. I knew it was something I had to say in person. I knew the conversation wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. Instead I typed something small, enough to keep him at bay for the minute.

Me: 

“Sorry Alex, trying to adjust back to normal times at work. Been sleeping a lot, it’ll probably be hard to keep in contact with the time difference. Hope you and Emily are having a good time.”

I alluded to the fact I knew about them, but he’s not smart enough to pick that up. I locked my phone and left the bathroom stall, washing my hands before returning to the table.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

I looked up at him, then over at Matt, who was watching me with those deep, thoughtful eyes. “Yeah” I said finally. “I think I’m starting to be.”

Our food was ordered, and the conversation moved on to lighter topics - funny memories from past hangouts, Matt and Chris' latest obsession with some new video game called Chained Together, and Nick’s plans for the rest of the week.

Despite the unresolved tension in my life, being there with them, made me feel grounded. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was on the verge of something better, something that was entirely my own.

And that’s how the next six days went - almost every spare waking minute was spent together, either hanging out at my place or at Matt’s, with Nick and Chris always nearby. It was nice getting to spend time with everyone, the four of us laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. The comfortable camaraderie made it easy to forget about the complications lurking in the background.

But as much as I loved being around them, I couldn’t help but wish for more alone time with Matt. It felt like every moment we spent together in the group was shadowed by the tension that simmered just below the surface, a constant reminder of the connection we were both trying so hard to keep under wraps, trying our best to not advertise our secret.

But the secret flirting between us grew bolder, the brief touches and lingering glances becoming harder to ignore. We’d catch each other’s eye across the room, and it was like everything else faded away. A shared look would send my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling into places they shouldn’t go - at least not while I was still technically with Alex, and Matt was still with Emily.

But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to mask our feelings. The jokes between us had a sharper edge, the teasing carrying a weight that neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt. Every accidental brush of our hands, every moment when our eyes locked a little too long, built up the tension until it was almost unbearable.

It was a strange, exhilarating mix of excitement and frustration. On one hand, I craved the thrill of these secret moments with Matt, the way they made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. But on the other, it was exhausting, trying to navigate this complicated web of emotions without letting anyone else see what was really going on.

By the end of each day, I was left feeling restless, my mind racing with thoughts of what could be if things were different - if we didn’t have to hide, if we could just be honest about how we felt. But for now, we had to play the part, keeping our feelings under wraps while the tension between us continued to grow, day by day.

It was less than 48 hours before Alex and Emily came home and the time loomed over me like a ticking clock, counting down to the inevitable confrontation. The anxiety of what was to come spun at the back of my mind, but I tried to push it aside. There was still a day and a half more to enjoy before everything had to change.

I had half an hour left of my shift, Jess had been by my side the whole time as we packed the shelves. I filled her in on everything that had happened - well, almost everything. I left out the kiss and the intimacy between Matt and I, not ready to divulge those parts just yet. Even so, she was shocked when she found out I knew Matt as well as I did.

"You and Matt?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I had no idea you two were that close. That's.. Wow."

“Well I'm friends with his brothers too, let's not forget that.” I said, almost cutting her off.

I could see the excitement bubbling up in her, the way she was practically glowing with the idea of me and Matt together. But I had to play it down, remind her of the reality of the situation. "Jess, we're technically both still in relationships" I said, trying to sound more resigned than I actually felt. "And Matt.. he's still oblivious to everything that happened between Alex and Emily."

Jess gave me a sympathetic look but then smirked, nudging me with her elbow. "He doesn’t know?! Bitch you need to tell him so you two can get a move on."

I sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I don’t know why I hadn’t told Matt yet. The whole situation freaked me out, and I could never seem to find the right time to tell him.

When my shift finally ended, I stepped outside to see Matt waiting for me in his car. Hangouts the last week were a given, so I expected to see him as soon as I walked outside the Target doors. The sight of him instantly lifted my mood, pushing the lingering worries to the back of my mind. I slipped into the passenger seat, and as we drove off, Matt mentioned everyone’s plans for the evening.

“I’m warning you in advance that Nick and Chris are heading to our friend Tara’s party tonight” Matt said casually. “I’ve decided I’m not going, but they’re probably going to try and persuade you to go too.”

A small thrill of excitement ran through me. "So, it'll just be us?"

Matt nodded, glancing over at me with a slight grin. "Just us."

The rest of the drive was filled with comfortable conversation and shared laughter, the tension between us still there, but softened by the ease of each other’s company. As much as I tried to keep my feelings in check, I couldn’t help but look forward to the time we’d have alone.

When we arrived at Matt’s place, Nick and Chris were already getting ready to leave for the party. “Heyyyyy bitchessss!” Nick called out, waving us over. “We were just about to head out to Tara’s party. You’re coming, right?”

Matt shook his head, already anticipating the direction this conversation was going. “Nah, I’m definitely going to pass. You guys go have fun.”

Chris wasn’t having it, though. “Come on, Matt! You’re always turning down these things. It’ll be fun. Plus, Tara’s been asking about you.”

Matt rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m sure she has. But seriously, I’m good. I just want to chill tonight.”

Nick joined in, trying a different tactic. “What about you, Y/n? You’re up for a party, right? You could help us convince Matt.”

I glanced at Matt, who was watching me with an amused expression. I shook my head, siding with him. “I’m with Matt on this one. I’m actually quite tired after work.”

Nick sighed dramatically. “You two are such party poopers.” He pointed a finger at Matt, smirking. “But don’t think this is over, Matt. You’re coming to the next one, no excuses.”

“Yeah, yeah” Matt said, waving him off. “I’ll think about it.”

With that, Nick and Chris finally relented, grabbing their things and heading out the door to their Uber. “Have fun doing whatever boring stuff you two are planning.” Chris called out as they left.

The door closed behind them, and just like that, the house was quiet again. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the counter with a satisfied grin.

“Well, that was easier than I thought” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled back, while sitting myself down on the couch, feeling a sense of relief that we had the place to ourselves. “Yeah, I’m glad they didn’t push too hard.”

Matt pushed off the counter, walking over to where I was sat. “So, what do you want to do now that it’s just us?”

The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “Honestly, just hanging out sounds perfect.”

Matt nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah, it does.”

Matt sat down on the couch, and it was like a magnet pulling us together. Our lips met in a heated kiss, and I could feel every worry and thought slipping away as we got lost in each other. His hands moved over my body, each touch sending shivers down my spine. He pushed me further down the couch as I felt his lips trailing down my neck, warm and insistent, lifting my shirt to continue the path of kisses lower, making my breath hitch.

But just as I was getting lost in the moment, a nagging voice in the back of my mind grew louder. Jess’s words from earlier were echoing in my head, reminding me of the truth I’d been holding back. It felt wrong to be here with Matt, to be sneaking around with him while this massive secret hung over us. I couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

“Matt” I said, my voice breaking as I pulled away slightly. I could see the confusion and concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone soft, but there was an edge of worry in his voice.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I found out Alex cheated on me” I said, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. “That’s what the fight was about… Alex and Emily.”

The change in Matt’s expression was instant. His face went pale, and the warmth in his eyes was replaced with shock and disbelief. “Emily?” he whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Emily cheated on me.. with Alex?”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back. The guilt, the pain, the betrayal - it all came crashing down on me at once. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” I choked out, the tears now streaming down my face. “I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Matt stared at me, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. “How long have you known?” he asked, his voice strained.

I wiped at my tears, though they kept coming. “Since the day you took me skating” I admitted. “One of my friends, a co-worker told me.. she was there when it happened..the night of the fight, she didn’t know if she should tell me. But I had to know the truth, even if it hurt.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor as if trying to process what I had just told him. “I can’t believe this” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “I mean we’re no better but atleast now it makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, Matt” I said again, my voice trembling. “Once I knew what happened I knew things were done with me and Alex.. but then even the condom box in my top drawer.. I was there when Alex bought them.. we hadn’t used them because, well, our sex life had died over a year ago.”

Matt’s eyes snapped back to mine, confusion and dread clouding his gaze. “Wait.. but the box was open?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

We locked eyes, both of us knowing where this conversation was leading but unwilling to face it head on. The implications of what we were realizing were almost too much to bear.

“Yeah..” I whispered, nodding slowly. “And a couple were missing, I checked when you left.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as the full weight of the situation settled in. I felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner, the whole guilt side of this thing between us would’ve been eliminated if I had just told you.” I repeated, feeling utterly helpless.

Matt’s expression softened slightly as he reached up to wipe away the tears on my cheeks. His touch was gentle, despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. “I wish you had told me sooner” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I get why you didn’t. It’s a lot to process.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you” I said, my voice breaking. “But I didn’t want to keep lying to you either.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands. "I appreciate you telling me" he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "It couldn’t have been easy, but I’m glad you did. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can decide what happens next."

I nodded, swallowing hard. 

Matt was silent for a moment, his eyes distant as he thought. Then he looked back at me, his gaze intense, processing everything I’d just told him. "So does Alex know that you know he cheated?" he asked carefully, as if trying to tread lightly on a subject that was already fraught with tension.

I shook my head. "No, I’m waiting until he’s back to confront him. I also got an email from the Bruins Board of Management.. A six-week suspension and his captaincy stripped for good. But he doesn’t know either of these things yet."

Matt looked genuinely surprised. "Six weeks? And they took away his captaincy? On top of losing you in all of this? Damn.. That’s going to hit him hard."

"Yeah.." I agreed. "But honestly, after everything, I’m not feeling too sympathetic."

Matt nodded, understanding. "Emily’s definitely clueless about the whole situation too. She’s been so up my ass lately, constantly checking where I am. It makes sense now - she was projecting, worried I’d find out because she was doing it herself."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell him what Jess had mentioned. "Jess overheard a conversation in the girls’ bathroom that night too.. She said something along the lines of Emily was bragging to her friends, saying she only likes you for the attention and for your money, but she also likes Alex and she somehow thinks she can have you both at the same time, she just needs me out of the way first."

Matt’s face darkened, a mixture of anger and disgust flashing in his eyes. "So that’s why she’s been so weird about you being around. It wasn’t just jealousy - it was guilt." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "You know she demanded that I didn’t hang out with you alone anymore. That’s why I went MIA for a month after the fight.. I’m so sorry Y/n for being so stupid.”

I felt a burn in my chest, knowing that Emily had tried to control him like that. "No Matt, don't apologise.. I had no idea she was doing that to you."

He shook his head, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was too caught up in trying to keep things smooth with her. I didn’t want to believe she was capable of this."

"And I should’ve confronted Alex sooner" I added, feeling the weight of my own choices. "But I was scared. I didn’t want to face the reality of what was happening."

Matt reached out, taking my hand in his. "We’re both dealing with a lot of shit, but at least we’re in this together now. We don’t have to go through it alone, and if anything this makes things a lot easier for us to move forward together"

I squeezed his hand, grateful for his support. "Yeah, together."

a/n : atleast we all know now the real reason matt wasn’t at tarayummys party 🤪🤪 part 19 reallllll sooon!!!!

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night. 

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust. 

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

 “Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening  the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats. 

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length. 

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her. 

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet. 

Ever stubborn. 

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his. 

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted. 

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he’d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns. 

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 12

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11.

Summary: What happens after Melissa catches you kissing your ex-husband?

WC: 2.65k

Melissa comes in just as Jared plants his lips on yours. You push him away weakly, your stomach absolutely killing you as you do so.

“What the fuck?” your girlfriend rages. There’s a fire in her eyes that you’ve only seen a few other times, and they’ve never been directed at you. It’s… terrifying to say the least. Jared just looks smug as he looks to her.

“What? Babe, did you not tell Melissa that the two of you were through and we were back together?” he asks, feigning confusion- although it’s very clear to both you and Melissa that he knows exactly what he’s saying and doing.

“Mel, it- it isn’t what it looks like,” you try to tell her, but you know it’s no use. She thinks she knows what she saw.

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you,” she points a finger at the two of you. She turns on her heel and storms out, slamming your front door as she goes. That startles Ellie out of her slumber, and you hear her cries from the living room. Ellie hates loud noises, and she always has- she can’t handle them when she’s just woken up. Across the hall, you can hear Melissa slam her own front door too. Somehow, it shakes your side of the hall again.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you hiss at your ex-husband as you do your best to rush to your daughter’s side. You collapse on the couch next to her and pull her into your arms as much as you can, peppering kisses to her head in hopes of calming her down.

“Momma! Why did the house shake?!” your little girl whimpers into your chest. “Where’s Mel? I want Mel.”

Jared sets himself down on the couch next to you and has the audacity to try to twist what happened to your daughter. “Melissa isn’t happy that Momma and Daddy are getting back together. I doubt you’ll see much of her again.”

“Jared, I said to get the hell out,” you seethe as you continue to run your fingers through Ellie’s hair. “We are not getting back together, Ellie. And you will continue to see Mel, I promise.” You just hope that you can keep that promise. If you and Melissa are through, you can only hope that the redhead who has wormed her way into your daughter’s heart will continue to be there for Ellie.

“I’m trying to comfort my daughter,” he tells you and continues to gently rub the little girl’s back.

“Jared, if you are not out of this house within the next ten seconds, I swear to God,” you close your eyes and threaten him angrily. 

“What are you going to do, Y/N?” he tells you. “I’m not leaving.”

“Elizabeth, go over to Melissa’s, please,” you say seriously. “She’ll watch you while your father and I talk.”

You’ve never seen your little girl move so fast, and she’s always running around. She sprints out the front door, leaving it open and knocks frantically on your neighbor’s door.

“Mel, please! It’s Ellie!”

The door whips open, and at the tears and the fear in your daughter’s eyes, Melissa scoops up your little girl. She presses a soft kiss to Ellie’s head as your daughter hides her face in the crook of your neighbor’s neck. Melissa glares at you through the opening in your door before turning back into her own living space.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout at Jared. “You cheat on me, you leave our family and our life, and then when I’m finally happy again, you come in and ruin it all!”

“I came back to say I was sorry and that I wanted to get back together!” he yells right back at you.

“And I told you very clearly, that I wanted no parts of that! And then you drag our daughter into it?! Jesus Christ, Jared. If I had known that this was the-” you cut yourself off to gasp in pain at the terrible pain on the right side of your abdomen. “If I had know that this was what our lives would turn out to be…”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that,” he hisses at you. “We made Ellie together, and you cannot go and say that you would wish her away.”

“I would never wish my child away- like you did, and for what?! To go sleep with her babysitter!”

“And I realized that I fucked up!”

“No fucking shit!” you scream. “We had the perfect life! The perfect family! And you went and fucked it all up! And now, now that I have the perfect life here with my parents and my little girl and my girlfriend, you find your way back and manage to fuck all of that up too!” That gets the attention of Melissa and Ellie. The redhead hasn’t closed the door to her apartment, and she can hear and see the two of you perfectly from where she holds Ellie close to her on the couch.

“I didn’t fuck anything up! You fucked it all up by moving across the country and being gay!”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with me loving who I love! What is wrong is that you decided to become a dirty, rotten-” He smacks you clean across the face. You cry out in pain as a hand flies up to your face. But you regain your composure again because the slap across the face pales in comparison to the absolutely searing pain in your stomach. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. And don’t think that I won’t be filing for-”

You get cut off again, but this time it’s by Ellie and Melissa. You hadn’t realized that the redhead had kept her door open and that yours was still ajar. Both of them had just witnessed your ex-husband lay his hands on you.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Melissa seethes. “Get the fuck away from her, or so help me, God.”

Jared stands from his place. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

“Ellie,” you cut in. “Your room, now. Headphones on.”

Your child, for once, doesn’t follow your orders. Instead, she marches herself straight up to your ex-husband. “Don’t hit Momma!”

He, in a fit of rage, raises his hand. Before he can strike her though, Melissa rips him away from the couch. You pull your daughter as close to you as you can, terrified of what might happen. You know Melissa has a temper on her, and you also know that she isn’t one to back down from a bare knuckled fist fight, even against a man as fit as your ex-husband. Luckily, her adrenaline takes over and she’s able to throw him out the door before slamming it shut and locking him out.

She shouts through the door, knowing that he’ll hear her, “I wouldn’t try anything else, asshole!”

He continues to yell and scream about how she has no right to take his child and wife away from him before the redhead reaches for your phone and calls the police.

As Jared continues to shout at you through the door, Melissa turns her attention to you. Your cheek is bright red, and the outline of Jared’s hand is etched into your skin.

“Melissa, I-”

“Don’t,” is all she says before she walks into your kitchen and grabs an ice pack.

“But I-”

“Don’t worry about nothing,” Melissa tells you as she presses it to skin gently. She smirks. “He’s fucked. I got it all on video with my phone set up on the counter in my apartment.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you cling to Ellie.

Your little girl is hysterical as she clings to you just as much. “Momma, I didn’t- I didn’t like that. I didn’t- I hated that!”

“I know, I know,” you mumble into her hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Melissa does her best to help soothe your daughter, but nothing really works because watching her father strike her mother and then almost being hit herself has Ellie quite shaken- and with good reason.

Jared is still yelling at all three of you through the door about how this isn’t over- how he’s going to get you and Ellie back. Thankfully, Melissa has the sense to go into Ellie’s room and grab her headphones to help block out the noise. Still, your little girl is more shaken than you’ve seen her before. It feels like forever before the police show up at your door. They cart him away before knocking.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this!” you hear Jared threaten as they pull him down the hall. You go to stand up to answer it, but your girlfriend gently pushes you back into the cushions with your daughter before going to open it.

“Schemmenti?” the officer asks. “Damn, I should’ve known.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ this time, Jerome,” the redhead smirks before sobering. “I called because that asshole was laying hands on my girlfriend.”

“You two know each other?” you look between the two of them curiously.

“I told you I know guys in almost every department, didn’t I?” Melissa turns to you before inviting the man in blue in. 

The officer take your statement, Melissa’s statement, and Ellie’s statement before they leave with a promise that a restraining order will go through for the three of you against your ex-husband. Ellie shocks everyone in the room by stating that she never wants to see her father again- that she didn’t like the mean side of him and doesn’t want him to hit her.

“I also got in touch with Marco about the child support,” Melissa tells her guy. He nods with a chuckle. The man in blue heads out not much later, leaving you with your girlfriend (you think she’s still your girlfriend) and your daughter.

“Melissa, I-”

“Not right now,” is all she says. “All that matters right now is getting Ellie to calm down, fed, and in bed, and then we can talk, okay?”

You nod. You know she’s right.

“Give me five minutes to go change into my pajamas and grab my phone, and I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

She just kisses your temple in lieu of an answer before heading across the hall. And she is back in the promised five minutes- it actually only takes her about three to return back to you.

“You started on dinner?” she asks, not quite sure what else to say in the tense air.

“Nothin’s been cooked,” you sigh.

“Pizza it is,” the redhead tells you as she heads into the kitchen. She returns a few seconds later with the heating pad in hand and some Midol to help alleviate your pains. She pulls Ellie into her arms before gesturing for you to lay your head in her lap. You follow her instruction before she hands you the supplies. You smile at her gratefully.

By the time the pizza has come, you’ve fallen asleep and Ellie isn’t hysterical anymore. You wake up with your head on a pillow as opposed to your girlfriend’s lap, and the redhead and daughter are both quietly eating dinner when you look into the kitchen. When you really listen in, you can hear Melissa trying to soothe your daughter’s fears over what happened earlier today.

“Daddy said that he and Momma are getting back together, and that I won’t see you anymore though,” Ellie sighs sadly. “I don’t want you to go… I love you, Mel.”

“El, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I am not leaving you, or your momma, for you to believe me,” the redhead assures your daughter with yet another kiss to her head. “I love you both so much.”

“‘M just scared,” your little girl admits quietly. “I already losed Daddy, but he isn’t my favoritest anymore. I don’t want to lose you Mel. You’re my one of my favoritest people, and I know your Momma’s favoritest too. ”

“I think you take the title of your Momma’s favorite person in the world,” Melissa smiles at your daughter. Then she validates your child’s feelings. “And I understand that you’re scared, but I promise you that I am here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere if I can help it. I don’t wanna lose my two favorite people either.”

Your heart swells at that admission. She still loves you- Jared may not have ruined your relationship after all. You had thought that maybe she was just playing the part for Ellie, but it’s confirmed now in your mind that you aren’t losing Melissa in your life. Deciding now is a good time to make it known that you’re awake, you pull the blanket that had been draped around you with you into the kitchen and kiss both of their heads before settling in your chair. Almost immediately, Ellie is wiggling her way into your arms and holding onto you tightly.

Dinner is quiet and tense, and so is the hour that you all spend on the couch before putting your little girl to bed.

Melissa, as much as she just wants to get your daughter to bed, fully puts herself into character as she reads Ellie’s favorite bedtime story with all of the theatrics that she would usually use- and it feels so good to hear your little girl’s giggles against you, especially after the shit that hit the fan today. But when it comes time to leave Ellie in her room, she doesn’t want any of it.

“Momma, I’m scared,” she whispers as she clutches your shirt desperately. I want you and Mel.”

You can’t blame her for that. So you simply whisk her away and into your own bedroom. Melissa follows, of course she does.

It doesn’t take long for your daughter to fall asleep between you and the redhead, the day’s events exhausting her. And when she starts to snore softly, you know she’s out for the night.

You turn your head to look at Melissa. “Mel, can we talk?”

“Yeah, hun,” the redhead sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry I stormed out. I thought-”

“I know what you thought you saw,” you tell her softly. “And I-” 

“Can you let me get this out?” your girlfriend asks. “I need to get this off my chest.”

“I’m listening,” you promise.

“I’ve been cheated on before too, as you know,” she mumbles. Then she clears her throat. “I thought that you really were getting back with him and that you were just stringing me along… that the reason you didn’t tell me about meeting him at first was because you were planning on getting back with him. And I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known, but my emotions and fears got the best of me, and I reacted before I could be rational.”

You reach across your daughter curled up into you and squeeze your girlfriend’s hand gently.

“I understand,” is what you say. “I totally understand. But please… please know that I don’t want him. I only want you. I want to get past all of this drama with him and then just focus on us and the life that we’re building together.”

She smiles at you with warm eyes. “That’s all I want to do too.”

“We’re gonna get through this,” you promise her.

She pushes herself up on her elbows just slightly in order to kiss you gently. “We’re gonna get through this. We’ll get everything with him straightened out, I’ll make sure that you get the child support money, and we’ll start our lives together.”

The next morning, when you wake up with Ellie on top of you snoring softly and Melissa's arms wrapped around you, you know that maybe... just maybe, everything will be okay.

AND THAT FOLKS IS THE END OF THIS SERIES UNLESS SOMEONE GIVES ME REASON TO WRITE MORE :) 🤍

tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[answer2jeff]

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

[thewordfortheday]

Love is lavish. Love makes you generous. Love expresses itself in deeds.

"Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped His feet with her hair. But one of His disciples, Judas, who was later to betray Him, objected..."John 12:3-4

Imagine her gratitude to Jesus. He had just raised her brother, Lazarus from the dead. The perfume was expensive , worth a whole year's wages. She didn't mind. She rummaged through her belongings, found the perfume, broke its seal and poured it on the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. She did it because she loved Jesus.

Judas objected not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.

Mary's love for Jesus was immense. And her giving was reckless. This kind of love for Jesus made missionaries around the world to give up promising careers and serve the poor in the deep jungles of Africa, the Amazon forests and several other remote parts of the world. People who love Jesus will do things the world will never understand, because they don't understand love.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us!

[loui3e]

Sun Bleached Flies

If it’s meant to be, then it will be’

Old man!Logan Howlett x Fem!reader Summary: After meeting in a dive bar you both pursue a relationship, where Logan makes the promise to return to you always.

A/n: Written and edited by delusional me at 12 am whilst listening to Ethel Cain, so don’t expect perfection. This is also my first Logan fic so if he’s OOC I apologise.

Warnings: Nothing sexual is explicit but is implied, angst with a sprinkle of comfort(?), major character death. (I love hurting my feelings so now I’m gonna hurt yours).

Words: 1065

You met him in a dive bar.

The air thick with the tang of sweaty bodies and music far too loud, as you took a seat at the bar next to a man with a tousled suit and grey hair, nursing a whiskey in one hand. A form of him you’ve far gotten use to since then.

“Why so dressed up for a dive bar?” You chortled at the man beside you. The question sounded hypocritical coming from you, considering you sat there in a velvet dress.

“Could ask you the same thing,” he quipped in response, quirking a brow in your direction. 

“Well I got stood up, your turn.” You steered the conversation from awkward silence. A part of you was intrigued by the man, the other attracted if you were to be honest with yourself. 

“My limo nearly got robbed.”

There was a pause as you processed his words. 

“What are you some sort of driver?” 

“Exactly.” 

You come to learn his name is Logan. Seeing him consistently in that shitty dive bar. You’ve gotten use to his presence, and begin to crave it after a heated night spent in the back of that damn limo. 

That carving is dangerous, Logan warned you. Saying that he wasn’t a good man. But he made no effort to push you away, and he indulged you each time you met up. He was too old and had loss to many to care. 

Meetings in a bar turned to a familiar black limo appearing in your driveway. You welcomed Logan no matter what state he was in. Spending nights washing away blood and sin, kissing it better with untainted lips. Cause’ there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

“Wouldn’t you rather anyone else, than a man like me?” Logan spoke one night as he sat at the end of your bed, you stood between his legs with a wet cloth in hand; cleaning dried blood. 

The methodic movement of cloth on skin halted suddenly. 

“No, not at all. I like you the way you are. Although you could cut down on the drinking.” You said confidently, going back to cleaning his wounds. Logan admired the way you spoke with such certainty, speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world that you liked him exactly how he is.

“You can try doll, but I don’t think I could stop if it tried.” Logan chuckled at his joke, a grin across his face has he stared up at you. For a second you saw a flicker of love in his eyes.

Logan wasn’t a religious man by any means. If he knew anything; god was both cruel and merciful for putting such a pure thing in the hands of an old bastard like him. Even when he had to slip out of your bed in the morning, wracked with guilt for leaving so soon; he kissed your forehead like a silent prayer and a promise of coming back for you. Because he wouldn’t let god rip this away from him, he was a bastard but not stupid.

“Logan?” You roused from your sleep, watching as his broad figure stood in the doorway.

“Sorry for waking you darlin’.” 

“Leaving so soon?” You whined softly, a dread settling in your heart like every other time he left. 

“Got work to do, but I’ll be back.” 

“Promise?”

Logan sighed and you knew he was rolling his eyes. “Promise.” 

And he kept that promise but this time his arrival was different, marked by a blue ram in the drive, a girl introduced as Laura and an old man sitting in a wheel chair called Charles on your porch.

You bout’ near came out the door with a shotgun at the new vehicle until recognising that familiar silhouette of the man you love.

You greeted Logan with a hug. “Jesus you scared me,” you muttered into his neck. 

“I know I’m sorry-“ Logan uttered an apology back before being cut off. 

“So this is who you’ve been running off to every few days.” Charles jested, grinning widely at your stunned expression. 

“Don’t mind him,” Logan waved Charles off. “Uh this is Laura.” Logan quickly introduced his new travelling partner, a young brunette girl. 

You nodded slowly, still utterly shocked from the whole ordeal. “Logan, you really gotta’ explain.” 

“Right ofcourse,” he nervously looked over his shoulder. Logan was highly-strung you knew that, but he seemed even more on edge than normal. “Can we come in first?” 

Logan explains the entirety of his situation, while Charles and Laura eat some leftovers you prepared for them. “We’ll be out of here in the morning, can’t stay in one place for too long.” Logan finishes his explanation off. You sit in astonished silence for a couple beats. A million questions in your head but not a voice to ask them. “Okay, I’ll set up the guest room.” You stand up promptly and make an exit. Logan has an urge to reach out for you, pull you into his arms; whisper sweet nothings and how everything will be okay. But he doesn’t, he can’t, he won’t lie to you. 

Later that night, Logan is leant against the guest bedroom door frame. Watching as you read Laura a story to get her to sleep, a pang of hope twists in his gut as he realises what he’s looking at is a glimpse into the possible future. Of what could be, a family. 

And when you’re tangle in each other’s limbs; skin to skin. The entire house quiet. Logan confesses this to you, the first time in a long time he’s felt hope. 

Once morning arrives you’re wrecked with worry, a terrible feeling settles within you. This doesn’t feel right. You’d beg Logan to stay, but he can’t, if you begged to come he wouldn’t let you. So you put every ounce of everything you’ve ever felt into a passionate kiss. Cupping his cheeks tenderly and moulding your lips to his. The tip of his tongue tastes of calamity, but you chase the feel of it because you know no matter what; the two of you are doomed.

“I’ll be back, promise.” Logan lies through his teeth, wincing at his own words. But he’ll lie just this once, now that he’s tried hope he never wants you to lose yours.

He never did keep this promise. 

[heathersdesk]

Scriptures for Going No Contact with Your Parents

Have a toxic relationship with your parents that is unsafe and unfixable?

Do you get violently sideswiped by I Am a Child of God or Families Can Be Together Forever, too?

I got you, fam!

My parents haven't really been parents to me since I was 12 years old. I was No Contact with my dad once he went to jail and we never reconciled before he died. I'm currently No Contact with my mom because she is a profoundly unsafe person, who now lives in a constant state of delusion and paranoia from all the drugs she has done in her life. Her refusal to get help and how badly she has treated me during her mental health crises throughout my life has destroyed our relationship. I made very deliberate choices as an adult to keep her at a safe distance from me, even before I finally went no contact.

God doesn't give everyone who has ever lived a loving and functional family. It doesn't mean he loves you less. It doesn't mean you don't matter, or you don't deserve better.

If you need some scriptures to remind yourself of that, hold onto these:

Psalm 27:10

Matthew 10:36, 12:46-50, John 7:5

Ephesians 6:4. This one is especially important if you have trauma surrounding "Honor thy Father and Mother." The mandate to follow this commandment (especially in a deferential traditional sense) is conditional on verse 4, a fact that some people like to conveniently ignore.

1 Nephi 21:15-16

You're allowed to be disappointed in your parents. God is not going to be upset with you for that. He's certainly not going to punish you for it, and being in conflict with your family is not in and of itself a divine punishment.

Take care of yourself. Know you're not alone in what you're going through. There are others at Church going through the same or similar things, even if you can't see it. And Jesus knows exactly how you feel, even in this. His family also didn't always understand or support him in who God made him to be. He existed in a state of conflict with his brothers for a season, a fact the scriptures acknowledge openly.

Why is this happening to you? Because it can happen to anyone. None of us are promised a perfect family that always gets along. Sometimes it'll have nothing to do with you and everything to do with the choices other people make to choose conflict over love, coercion over connection. That's not your fault.

Found family happens in the Church. If you need some found family, your congregation is a great place to invest in some. Tumblrstake can be a great place for it, too.

The healing that is needed for the recovery of some relationships won't come until heaven. If you're waiting for that day, you're in good company. Keep your chin up and be strong! We'll get through this together❤️

[armandposting]

sybelle & benji primer

for those who would prefer not to put themselves through The Vampire Armand

who are sybelle and benji? the short answer is that they are two humans that armand effectively adopts after killing sybelle's abusive brother. they help armand recover after his suicide attempt and come with him when he goes to see lestat in his devil-coma (don't worry about it). armand's intent with them has always been to protect them while they live out their human lives, but he leaves them with marius while telling his life story to david talbot and marius turns them, whcih devastates armand.

but also, sybelle is a 25 year old disabled pianist and benji is a 12 year old trafficked Bedouin boy from Palestine who chainsmokes. so there's kind of a lot going on there.

[prefacing this by saying it's possible benji and sybelle were first introduced in memnoch the devil but I haven't finished my reread of that yet and I don't remember, so this all comes from the vampire armand and what i remember of the prince lestat trilogy]

to skim over a bunch of semi-relevant plot, at the end of memnoch the devil armand tries to kill himself by flying into the sun because lestat got to make out with Thee Jesus and armand didn't. as he's getting burned up he has several semi-hallucinatory side quests, one of which is sybelle and benji.

sybelle, like I said, is a concert pianist, and has some sort of developmental or neuro disability that anne doesn't specify. you could interpret it as autism or psychosis related to PTSD or depression or any number of things, but when we meet her she is fixated on the Appassionata piano sonata, and plays it constantly. she is with her abusive older brother, who took over her care after their parents died, and Benjamin Mahmoud (benji), a young boy that her brother essentially bought to help take care of her. sybelle struggles with eating, dressing herself, speaking, etc, though this is all much improved later on after the brother is dead. Armand hears benji praying for something to save sybelle from the brother, who is trying to haul her off the piano and beat her, and benji is worried will kill her. Armand steps in and kills the brother. benji celebrates, sybelle goes back to the piano, and armand basically immediately falls in love with them both, but he has a suicide attempt to finish, so he gets swept off.

armand eventually lands on a rooftop, burned to a crisp and quickly becomes stuck in the snow and ice. he continues to hear sybelle's playing and benji talking to him (benji calls him angel at first, later dybbuk-- notable funny bit is that benji, not knowing what happened to armand, tries to persuade him back by saying he has plenty of good cigarettes and then complaining that armand left them this dead body to deal with. if theres one thing about benji mahmoud it's that he is not fazed by jack or shit). eventually armand realizes that he is not going to die any time soon and calls out to benji for help.

benji and sybelle rescue armand from the rooftop- he tries to telepathically shield how terrible he looks from them, but sybelle catches on that doing so is draining for him and tells him to stop. they're not afraid of his crusty ass and set him up in their hotel room (sybelle has endless trust fund money from her parents). they have to get a guy for armand to drink so he can heal, so benji lures a guy with the promise that there's coke under the "dead body" on the bed. yes, benji does come up with this plan. armand thinks it's hilarious. made for each other. it's notable that both benji and sybelle are daniel-style weird little freaks who want to watch armand do murders; the only difference is it's not a sex thing for them.

with armand recovered, sybelle and benji accompany him to come see lestat, where as I mentioned armand leaves them with marius for safekeeping and marius turns them. the consent here is... complicated. in terms of vampire etiquette, arguably marius absolutely should not have done this, as sybelle and benji were under armands protection. also just as a guy who is aware that this option is abhorrent to armand, someone marius still considers his child (eugh yuck etc), marius should not have done this. on the human end, sybelle at least was definitely old enough to consent, older than half the main vampires are when they're turned. benji would be really really offended if you said he wasn't old enough (much like amadeo) but also... he is literally 12. he's been through some shit for sure but he is 12. personally I'm going to go with under no circumstances should marius have done that. but sybelle and benji are happy about it and see it as a way to be a family with armand forever and armand does his best to not let his anguish bring the mood down.

and that's basically what happens. benji and sybelle go with armand between trinity gate and the court in auvergne. in the PL books, sybelle continues to play music, often with the other vampire musicians that have gathered at lestat's court, and benji starts the world's first vampire podcast.

other random facts:

benji mostly wears djellabas, and when the guy he brings to armand to kill is racist to him about it he says "sure, just call me Lawrence of arabia" and promptly feeds the guy to armand

benji also is fascinated by how armand looks all shriveled up ("I could take a lesson in muscles from looking at you") and sybelle has to tell him to focus on the whole luring a drug dealer to their hotel room thing at hand

for some reason anne thought that armand should mention that sybelle has breasts at like, every opportunity. it's one of those times when you're actually glad she didn't write more women because when she does she is so weird about it

in the PL books when interacting with Marius, benji also calls him master like armand does (Jacob Anderson voice eugh yuck!)

sybelle's reaction to watching crispy armand drain a dude while saying armand-typical creepy shit is to say "magnificent" and benji's is to say "bad guy, huh?"

armand thinks of the whole of telling his story in TVA as being for benji and sybelle, but particularly sybelle. he describes it more than once as his "symphony for sybelle."

Marius has a rare moment of self reflection after armand screams at him for turning the two, where he says "You loved them selflessly. For all their strange faults, and wild evil, they were not compromised for you. You loved them perhaps more respectfully than I… than I ever loved you." not a high bar my man!

anyway I think that's it, at least as much as I can remember without doing any text searches outside of TVA. they're weird little freaks and I love them very much though as usual there are many things about them I wish anne had done just a little differently!

[radiansjort]

The Minyards’ and Hemmicks’ Names

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone point this out, but it was one of the first things I noticed when I read the books; Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky all have Biblical/Catholic names. It makes sense because Luther and presumably Tilda are Catholic, but their Biblical names also correspond with who they are as characters.

Andrew: In the Bible, he is one of Jesus’ 12 Apostles. He was brother to Simon Peter, who was Jesus’ closest Appstle. The name Andrew itself means “strong” and “warrior,” and in the books Neil narrates how strong he finds Andrew; we can also see him as a warrior when he protects Nicky especially as well as the other Monsters.

Joseph: There are 2 Josephs in the Bible and both fit Andrew’s character. The first is Joseph the father of Jesus on earth. He was seen as the ultimate protector because he protected the Holy Family and followed God’s call to stay with Mary. He protected Jesus from being killed as an infant by taking him and Mary to Egypt shortly after his birth. Obviously, Andrew is very much a protector. He is very protective of all the Monsters and frequently called a “mom friend” in the fandom. The other Joseph, is Joseph son of Jacob (Israel). He was the favorite son of his 12 brothers, and all of the brothers were jealous. Because of this, they leave him in a ditch and sell him as a slave to the Egyptians. As a slave, he works his way up the ranks to become the Pharaoh’s adviser because he can interpret dreams. Eventually during the famine, his brothers and father come to Egypt in hopes of finding food, and Joseph forgives them for selling him off. There is obviously the similarities of complicated brother relationships which is very much Andrew and Aaron, but I say he also relates to this because Joseph reconciles with his brothers, and post canon Andrew and Aaron begin to reconcile and really have a relationship with one another.

Aaron: In the Bible, Aaron is the brother of Moses and a high priest among the Israelites. He helps them along their journey to the Promised Land. One of the most notable things he does is while Moses is on Mt Sinai, he builds a golden calf for the Israelites to worship. When Moses sees this, he gets so angry and upset that he smashes the Ten Commandments and has to climb the mountain to receive them again. I see this as Aaron (Aaron) and Andrew (Moses) and their early relationship. After their deal is made, Aaron doesn’t understand the significance of this and instead goes against what they agreed to (kind of like—> Aaron and Moses were both priests and dedicated to God and Aaron went against that with the idol) and it almost reflects how Aaron beings to go against their deal.

Michael: Michael the Archangel is the warrior and protector of the Church, and he is the one who directly opposes Satan and defeats him. I see it as pretty fitting, because in the end, who is it that kills Drake?

I find the twins names so very fitting because not only do they relate to their characters, every one of them in the Bible had a brother. (If you count the other Archangels as Michael’s “brothers.”)

Unlike the twins, Nicky’s names are not the names of Biblical figures, but instead of Catholic saints.

Nicholas: St. Nicholas was known for his generosity, as he gave his wealth to the poor. And probably what he’s most known for, he gave gifts to the poor at night inside their shoes. (Which brought about the story of Santa Claus). I think this fits Nicky well, as he gave everything he had to the twins. He gave up living a normal teenage life to instead not go to school and instead work 3 jobs to keep him and the twins all afloat. Also more obvious, St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children and known as the protector of them. That very obviously relates to Nicky as he protects and cares for the twins.

Esteban: The English equivalent of Esteban is “Stephan,” and St. Stephan is known as the first martyr. He is actually mentioned in the bible, but doesn’t appear on page. He refused to denounced the Catholic faith, so he was stoned to death. This is similar to Nicky because Nicky again gave up everything for the twins, and he was the first person to really give everything he had for these two.

[godsdaughter3]

Yap Session 3: Sturniolo Triplets/How the Holy Spirit talks through people.

!!!THIS IS FROM A CHRISTIAN PERSPECTIVE PLEASE SCROLL IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE!!!

I want to specify that the Holy Spirit is not God or Jesus, the Holy Spirit is not a wind, a fire, a dove, or a ghost, He is often symbolized by those things. The Holy Spirit is the third person in the Trinity, not third because he's least in value but third because he was the last person to be revealed through God. Once you become a Christian or a born-again, the Holy Spirit starts living within you, you want to keep Him there.

Okay so in this Sturniolo Triplets video Matt (the one in the red, on the right) was essentially giving a speech about music, and then Chris (the one on the left) said he felt as if something compelled Matt to say that because the way Matt explained it sounded so thought out and perfect. (Timestamp 12:30). And, that made me think about the fact that the Holy Spirit uses people to talk. (I mentioned this a little in Yap Session 1: Sturniolo Triplets/Your tongue has power).

Acts 1:8 “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” (Words in red because Jesus was speaking). Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority.But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight." This passage is Jesus speaking to his disciples telling them that when the Holy Spirit comes onto them they will receive the power, to be witnesses for Him.

Acts 2:1-4, "When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them." This passage talks about how the Holy Spirit came down, they spoke in different tongues. (In a different language, this is a different topic but it's still relevant, I'll get more in-depth about the gift of speaking tongues another day).

Pastors and teachers obviously have wisdom, which, is a gift of the Spirit. When a Christian gets asked about God, 9 times out of 10, it's going to be the Holy Spirit talking through them. The person will know what they're saying but not exactly have control, they'll have control but they don't. (I don't know how to explain it lol). Not all Christians have the gift of wisdom, but one Christian can have multiple gifts of the Spirit but I digress.

The Holy Spirit uses people to talk to others, which is very interesting if you ask me. Like imagine having a conversation about God with a friend and randomly you start speaking about things you never thought you would talk about ever. That's basically what it's like to have the Holy Spirit talk through you. If you're a Christian and that's never happened to you, don't worry it will, and soon. Make sure that your relationship with God is strong so that it happens. Never forget that Jesus loves you! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[abilouwrites]

THE MOVE IN

Jamie Drysdale

Mah lil pookie wookie

“And you’re sure they’d be all right with me staying with you for the month?” I ask nervously as Jamie smoothly shifts gears and toggles the clutch. My apartment had grown a water leak and a mold infestation because of that leak so I’d been forced to move out. While my parents live in California; they aren’t stationed in Anaheim but in San Francisco. Almost a 12 hour drive away.

I’d offered to rent out a hotel room but Jamie hearing of my dilemma and being my boyfriend was nearly upset at the fact I was going to a hotel before asking to stay with him, “I’m sure; the guys love you. And they all understand that situation. Least from what they’ve told me” he looks at me and smiles before turning his attention back to the road.

“I just don’t want to encroach on guy time” I admit, I hear him sigh gently and move his hand to pat my thigh before going back to keeping his hand on the stick.

We pull up to his shared home with a few of the guys on the team, those who weren’t living with their girlfriends or wives. Jamie takes my bags from the trunk of the car, “Jesus how do you have so much stuff” he grunts; he sees my concerned expression and immediately cuts in with, "no oh sweet thing I'm joking" He looks at me sympathetically and drops my bags gently so he can wrap me into a soft kiss.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I help him carry my things into his room, “ah Drysdales wife is here” Trevor teases as he steps out of the kitchen.

I smile softly at him and wrap him into a soft hug, “I brought my recipe book if y’all want me to make waffles” I tell him and he excitedly grins at me.

“Jams whatcha eatinn” Trevor asks as he leans on Jamie’s shoulder; he bats his eyes at him. Obviously asking for a bite of whatever his friend was eating for a late home packed brunch.

“Oh uh. Y/n made me some blueberry waffles.. you want?” Jamie guiltily offers half of his waffle to his friend who easily scarfs the half down. Trevor’s eyes widen and he nods in approval.

“You need to marry her. And have a lot of babies. Mostly. Wife her up because if you don’t. I will” Trevor says; almost instantaneously. Jamie simply stares at him, almost astonished at Trevor’s confession.

“Trev— I’ve only been dating her for maybe a uh year?”

“Marriage”

“If Jamie doesnt marry you. I will” Trevor admits winking at Jamie.

The weeks pass as they always do, it’s weird waking up to someone else. Jamie’s arms wrap around my waist his thumb toying with the band of my panties. Somehow it’s so comforting being able to wake up next to him. I roll onto his stomach throughout the night. His hands go from resting on my butt to sliding underneath my tank top and resting on my shoulder blades.

“G’mornin” I’m the first to rise and Jamie always rolls over tucking his head against my chest, my hands slide up and tangle themselves into his thick brown hair.

“I don’t wanna wake up” He groans wrapping himself around me and anchoring me down into the plush bedding.

“I know baby, but I promised the team I would make breakfast for everyone. You can sleep a bit more” I tell him wiggling out from underneath him but still tucking him back into bed and placing a kiss onto his forehead.

It’s about ten in the morning when the boys and their significant others start arriving. The house fills with chatter and the clinking of utensils as I serve the eggs and bacon and pancakes.

Jamie comes down, rubbing his eyes and quickly finding me flipping the pancakes in the pan. He groans softly resting his head on my shoulder and sliding up behind me and rubbing my stomach underneath my shirt, “I can’t sleep without you” he whispers in my ear.

“You want some coffee?” I offer him my little mug.

“Yeah” He sighs against my skin taking my mug and drinking it, “I’m gonna go see the guys”

About a month later my apartment is ready but Jamie’s being weird about me moving back in, “somethings going on” I fish around as I start packing my things back up

“I guess” he shrugs reaching for my hand, “Instead of going back to your apartment.. what if. We buy a house, or an apartment. And officially move in together” he asks

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wanna marry you. Not right now but eventually”

“Seriously?”

“Yes”

🎉🎉

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |-| Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Little Bit More

25/12: Promise & Phone Sex - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) A/N: this exists in the Every Little Bit universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

He always knew it was coming around, and yet he always hated it.

Her dad’s birthday was in between Christmas and New Year, that weird time where you don’t know what day it is, never seem to have enough food in and where you’re so disorientated in the post-Christmas haze that it’s like coming down from a sugar high.

It was the few times of year where she went away by herself, wanting to spare Billy from the absolute torture of being around her parents for a few days as she made excuse after excuse as to why they weren’t married yet.

Not that he minded, there was only so much of her mum Billy could take.

He’d seen her off at the train station, her duffel bag looking very much as big as her in the cutest way possible as she skipped off to the platform in her winter overcoat and scarf, the chill nipping at her cheeks.

It was only a few days. It was only a few days. He had to keep reminding himself. 

Billy sighed, tapping the remote control against his knee, only half-watching whatever terrible Friday night tele graced his flat. The pizza box was closed shut on the coffee table, having tried to cheer himself up with a takeaway.

His phone buzzed, and he couldn't help the smile that rose to his face, seeing her name in bright white letters on the face of it.

She'd promised to ring 9 o’clock on the dot, after all.

“Hiya, ya alright?” he answered, his voice sounding perkier already, his muscles relaxing once he heard her voice.

“Hey, you sound happy”, she replied low down the phone, and he could tell she was smiling by the way she said it.

“I am now,” he grinned, “just finished a 12 inch on my own.”

She groaned over the line, “Billy.”

“I'm joking, it's because I've heard your voice again.”

“Better,” she laughed breathily, “what you up to? Other than missing me, of course.”

He sighs, “Being a sad cunt, staying in with a beer watching whatever shite is on Channel 4.”

“Ooh dear,” she says unenthusiastically, “sounds dull, babe.”

Billy hummed in agreement, “What about you? What you up to?”

It was her turn to sigh, “fuck all, really. Mum and Dad went to go and see Mum's mate Jill, you know Jill don't you?”

“Yes, babe.”

“Yeah, well they left at five and are yet to be back. Convinced she's got them tied up in the basement.”

Billy laughed through his nose, “That actually sounds better than what she might actually be doing, chatting their bloody ears off.”

“Poor buggers, eh,” she laughed, “so I'm sat here on my tod.”

“What a shame you've got me to talk to then.”

He could hear her smile, “could be worse. You missing me?”

The alcohol had offered him a kind of confidence, and he sucked his teeth, holding back a grin, “You could say that. Missing something anyway.”

He heard her mischievous tone even over the crackle of the phone.

“Are you now?”

The line went quiet for a while, before a notification buzzed and Billy turned her on loudspeaker for a moment as he pulled his phone from his ear to check.

…has sent an image.

With one flick of his thumb, his jaw dropped, the depths of his gut becoming tight and hot by the picture she'd sent him. It was her figure reflected in a mirror, wearing clearly nothing but a large t-shirt (his, he noted) and pulling the spare fabric to one side to show her curves as well as her pebbled nipples beneath it.

“Jesus..”

She giggled over the phone, “is that a good ‘jesus’?”

“I-fuck, yes…”

Another one arrived, with her pulling up the hem of her shirt over her hips and expanse of her stomach, just beneath the shadow of her breasts.

“Christ, babe, what are you doing to me?”

She hummed, “sorry, you said you were missing me.”

Billy sighed looking at the photos, every now and then closing his eyes to will the feeling of her skin onto his fingertips, the warmth of her, the sounds she'd make for him. 

His breathing grew shallow as he reached into his jeans, wrapping one hand around his length, to softly pump himself, already half-hard since the moment the first picture arrived.

“Are you enjoying them?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Mmhm..” he murmured.

Another few arrived, in various stages. One where the shirt was fully over her breasts, one where she was wearing nothing at all leaning back to show her full naked torso, and one sat on the bed, the lines appearing where her hips met her thighs.

“Oh fuck…”

Over the phone, she could hear the clinking of his belt as he pleasured himself, “are you touching yourself, baby?”

He could only make a sound in confirmation, his throat closing as he fisted himself to the photos of her.

She sighed, as if her touching herself was expelling a deeply rooted desire, her hands sliding between her legs, the other holding the phone to her ear, “Mm…wish you were here…”

“-ffuck-me too, baby-”

His strained voice was enough to coax some slick between her fingers, using it to pleasure herself, laid back on the bed.

“are you on the sofa?...”

He swallowed, breathlessly replying, “yeah..”

“Do you remember before I left…” she started, and the memory nearly made Billy dizzy.

He was sat right where he is right now, legs apart to accommodate her kneeling there. She'd been annoyed that he was playing Xbox, and so, in an effort to make him lose his game, had knelt in front of him, pulled his sweatpants over his hips and eagerly took his length between her lips.

She'd gotten what she wanted. Before long, his controller was long forgotten and instead, his fingers were threaded through her hair, guiding her pace on him.

He can feel his stomach tightening at the memory of the sensation.

“Do you remember, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Hm..” she hummed, over the phone, while in her own bed began to hasten the pace of her self-pleasure.

"If I were there...do you know what I'd do?"

"What..." he breathed, his hold on his phone so tight without realising.

"I'd get up...off my knees...on top of you..." she muses, sighing at the feeling herself beginning to crest, "...maybe tease you a bit..."

"Fuck-no, baby, don't tease me-"

She let out a breathy laugh, "but why not? It's so much fun."

Her hips canted towards her own touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she held the phone loosely as the pressure tightened in her gut.

"What would you do, baby? If I was right there on top of you..."

His voice came strained, every stroke of his length in his fist drawing him close to fulfilment.

"I would - I'd fuckin' pull you down..."

She could tell he was close by the tone of his voice, and she bit back a smile, knowing he was much too far gone to even form a coherent thought.

"I'd let you fuck me...right there...be your little fuck toy..." She mused in a sort of whisper, "...you could cum inside me...as many times as you want, baby..."

Billy's lips parted, not even realising how his movements had become rapid, needy and quick.

"Oh fuck-"

On the other side she was close herself, and then she heard the prompt and pulled the phone away from her ear to see a request to switch to video call. She accepted without thinking and felt her gut twist at what she saw.

His jeans were pushed around his zipper barely, only enough to free his cock as he pumped it quickly. She was entranced as Billy pleasured himself in real time, her face growing warm at the effect she'd clearly had on him.

And then she heard it, a long shuddered whimper of her name, followed by, "Oh baby-"

She felt her thighs tremble as she came, warmth rushing beneath her hips and a tingling sensation rushing from her toes all the way up her spine, as Billy groaned deeply and spilled all over his fingers for her to see.

Her hand has slowed, overstimulation gnawing as she touched herself with Billy's languid thrusts into his hand continuing to pull a deep arousal from her.

Over the video she heard his laboured breaths, gulping for air.

When the video turned off she smiled tiredly and pulled her phone back to her ear, hearing his tired, exhausted voice.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he breathed. She could imagine him, all spent and limp on the sofa, and the thought made her smirk and press her thighs together with want.

"Mm, you're telling me. Do you feel better now?" She asked demurely.

"Fuck you," he teased, "fuck, I can't wait for you to get back..."

She gave a short laugh, "Oh yeah? What you gonna do when I am?"

He was quiet for so long she wondered if he'd heard her, her brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted to ask him if he was still there.

But realistically, on the other end, a wide smile graced his face, his blue eyes all aglimmer with mischief.

And what he said had the power to shut her right up. Excitement made her stomach flip, wondering what version of Billy she seems to have unleashed. Gone was the shy, unconfident Billy she'd found. Her efforts in getting him to...unwind somewhat shocking even her.

"How did you put it, hm?" he laughed, with a smile so bright like he'd just opened a present, "My little fuck toy?"

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for November 9, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 27:23-24 (KJV): 23 Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thy herds. 24 For riches are not forever: and doth the crown endure to every generation? Proverbs 27:23-24 (AMP): 23 Be diligent to know the state of your flocks, and look well to your herds; 24 For riches are not forever; does a crown endure to all generations?

Thought for the Day

Verse 23 - Although these verses were addressed to farmers, we can relate to them today in regard to our businesses. We are to take responsibility and know the state of our affairs. Large flocks of sheep and goats made a man wealthy in ancient Israel. This proverb advised a wealthy man to personally know the condition of his flocks and ascertain that his overseers fulfilled their responsibilities properly. They were to protect and keep count of them, taking special care of the sick, injured, and pregnant ones; paying special attention to the babies.

Having riches or employment now does not guarantee we will always have them. We need to give diligent care and management to our livelihood. Romans 12:11 says, "Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord." Negligence creates problems that can lead to severe financial difficulties. Many factors can lead to bankruptcy, such as over-extending oneself (due to greed or lack of sound business principles) or extenuating circumstances beyond one's control. Sometimes it is not people's fault that they are forced into bankruptcy since they are victims of illness, tragedy, or uncontrollable disasters. Despite this, many of the bankruptcies which are filed today could have been avoided if diligence had been practiced. "He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich" (Proverbs 10:4).

Verse 24 - Just as a king will not rule throughout every generation, riches do not last forever. There is a good deal of truth to the statement, "money talks: it says 'good-bye'." Money says "good-bye" in numerous ways, such as in poor planning for the future. As people age, their work capacity diminishes, which usually decreases their income. Without wise and diligent care of their finances, people may spend all their money when they are young and leave themselves with nothing to live on when they are old. If we heed the Lord and apply good business principles in regard to our finances, we can rest assured that we will have enough when we are in our senior years. Living for God is one of the best insurance policies anyone can have. He can provide what no human agency can, such as good health. He promises that the righteous will still bear fruit in old age (Psalm 92:12-14), meaning that they will remain productive. We must diligently take up our responsibilities if we desire God's blessings, and not forget to help others along the way. If we bless others, God will return those blessings to us when we are in need.

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for Your abundant provision in my life. I am grateful, not only for financial provision, but for the spiritual blessings that You have also given me. I do appreciate daily strength and health so that I am able to be diligent in all of my affairs. Give me wisdom so that I might prepare for the future properly. Ultimately, my faith and trust are in You, as You hold the future; however, may I not neglect those things in the natural that need to be done, so that I am not ill-prepared. Lord, also, I do not want to forget to give and help others along the way as well. May I be a good steward over all that You have given me. I ask this in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. Good Morning World 11/9/2024 4:03:36 AM Jacksonville, Florida USA From: Steven P. Miller, @ParkermillerQ,   gatekeeperwatchman.org  TM ‎Founder and Administrator of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups. #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO.

[alicentsultana]

Some of my alicole beliefs and rants:

1. I think the want had always been there (especially when you're being fucked by a corpse, but we're not gonna talk about that today)

2. Religion and morality doesn't mean those who have/follow will stick to it.

3. Repression and trauma can change people and it reflect in their actions, including self-harm (as we see Alicent doing) and other things like drugs and alcohol (like Aegon does), fighting (like Aemond), but the cope mechanism here went to sex, as many people do. Like repressed people irl who are one person at home and away from their parents/family/partners are someone completely different. You cannot be pro lgbtqia+ and not know this, baby karen project...

4. Twenty fucking Jesus dancing years together. We see clear as day that Criston have to do the work that supposedly should have been Viserys' - like giving attention to his wife and kids, not forget their name and rather to find them dead. Let her drool on a dilf that practically raised her kids, for fucks sake

5. There's a lot to unpack. They might have done it at Driftmark, marking the death of duty, as we saw someone pointing out early. They give give give. And it's never enough, it's a doomed matter, even for them, after all, what's stopping them? Promises have already been broken, what do they have left?

6. It's easy to love Anne Boleyn an go Henry VIII on others, huh?

7. They are very much devoted to each other and it shows. And it goes beyond the religious undertones, she practically saved his life while he stopped her from falling from grace, despite being justified in her rage, now tell me, what would you feel if it were you?

8. I have the genuine impression that the targtowers kids know. It's monday for them, it send lights to Aegon's affairs, but that's Freudian talk. Criston didn't had to like or do anything for 4 brats, yet, we see how Aemond respects him, how he can freely chastise Aegon in public, how the show made us nothing but a disfavour, old news. And once again, there he was.

9. This is the less problematic relationship on this show, you wish it wasn't consensual, they had years to pull away.

10. From all the men around her, only one apparently hasn't failed her.

11. Emotional attachment. Both sides.

12. Viserys was emotionally unavailable first, unless you all think is normal to call the name of another wife, and look into my eyes and tell me he hadn't done it even in bed. Alicent eventual actions seems more than justified to me.

12. Rhaenyra is a topic between them, but well, is dragon criminal pussy really misleading them?

13. Good for them.