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#Dispensation of Grace
superbdonutpoetry · 9 hours
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A [Parenthesis]
OT [Dispensation of Grace] NT ⬆️ NATION of Israel blinded We are presently living in a parenthesis between the law dispensations (Israel’s Old Testament – times past (Genesis to John), and her New Testament – times to come (Hebrews to Revelation)), a part known as the Dispensation of Grace, in which the NATION of Israel has been blinded, which further means only individuals are saved today,…
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ahandsomebabe · 4 months
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It's my four year anniversary of being on Aimovig! 🎉
Before this chungus of an autoinjector, I had to live with 18-20 migraine attacks a month. I was barely functioning, let alone living.
This year, I'm actually well enough to consider making writing goals again.
It's nice to remind myself how far I've come, and how grateful I am to wake up 75% of the time without an ice pick behind my eyes.
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thepopoptic · 5 months
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The "key" to understanding the Bible. A "dispensation" is the "information" relevant for application during a specific period of time. Keeping that "content" in context is the KEY to understanding what God wants you to believe and how you are to behave. Hope this helps.
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vaultsixtynine · 2 years
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checking my work emails from home bc i'm sick and our ongoing integration process w a new team of [my job title here] is going great and im super normal abt it
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a-godman · 1 month
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Grace is the Circulating Triune God Dispensing Himself into us for our Enjoyment
 What is grace? Is it just unmerited favour? According to the Bible, grace is God coming to visit us, remain with us, dwell with us, and be everything to us for our enjoyment. Grace is the circulating Triune God flowing in us and dispensing all He is into us for our enjoyment. Hallelujah! And this grace is with our spirit. Grace is with us, for the Lord is with us; grace is the Lord Jesus…
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Why did Paul say some things that contradicted Jesus, even though Christians quote him a lot?
Prophecy foretells that Jews are a distinct nation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation (ex.19:5–6) called of God for the purpose of showing forth His glory and being the light and salvation of the Gentiles (Isa.60:1–3). With this in mind, the earthly ministry of Jesus was directed to Jews ONLY (Matt.10:5–6; Matt.15:24) to save them and bring them lift them up to that place of preeminence, that…
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fideidefenswhore · 5 months
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The Lincolnshire petition named six bishops, including Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, whose orthodoxy was suspect. The Lincoln articles sent south from the first Doncaster meeting requested the punishment of subvertors of the laws of God and the realm and specifically named Cranmer, Cromwell, Audeley, and Hugh Latimer, Bishop of Worcester. The Pontefract articles, again drawing back from some of the Pilgrims' earlier and wilder demands, merely sought the punishment of heretics, whether bishops or lay persons.
The Pilgrimage of Grace and the Politics of the 1530s (2001), Richard Hoyle
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pseudowho · 2 months
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"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."
Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.
"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."
Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.
"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."
In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.
"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."
Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.
"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."
Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.
Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.
"No smiling, Yuuji."
"H-huh? How did you know?"
"Was I wrong?"
"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."
As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.
"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"
Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"
"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"
"Uh...I guess. Why?"
Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.
"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"
"Nanamin...what's this about?"
"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."
"...so you're just...checking up on me?"
Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"
Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"
"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."
"God, yes, please, I'm starving."
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The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.
Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.
At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.
"Nanamin?"
A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"
Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"
Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."
Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--
"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"
Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"
"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."
A pause. "...Nanamin."
"Yuuji."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"Language."
When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.
"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.
Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.
"Darling, we're going to be la--"
"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"
"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"
"--hush. I'll have words with you later."
Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.
"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."
Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.
"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"
You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.
"...you haven't told him."
Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."
You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.
"...a...passport?"
"...Kento didn't tell you."
Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"
Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.
"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."
Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.
Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.
"Our flight...to where?"
"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."
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vintagegeekculture · 9 months
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Star Trek's "Lost" Main Character
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Just when you think you know everything there is to know about the original Star Trek, you learn something new, like the fact someone you barely remember was going to be a series regular. Take the case of "Yeoman Smith," played by Andrea Dromm, a petty officer secretary in "Where No Man Has Gone Before." Everyone knows that Trek had a first pilot with a different cast. But the cast of the second pilot was analyzed more in terms of who wasn't there (Dr. McCoy and Uhura were added only when the show went to series and were not in the second pilot at all), than who was.
One character in particular is easy to overlook as she seemed like just another lowly and invisible crewman, Yeoman Smith. Surprisingly, Andrea Dromm was hired to be a main character on the show.
The NBC publicity materials made for the second pilot mentioned and discussed her as they would Kirk and Spock, and treated her as a series regular, which at the time, she was:
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“YEOMAN SMITH, who has drawn the important assignment of secretary to the Captain on her first mission in deep space, is easily the most popular member of Kirk’s staff. A capable secretary and efficient dispenser of instant coffee, she also provides a welcome change of scenery for eyes that have spent long hours scanning the vast reaches of space.”
Almost from the beginning though, it was not to be. Andrea Dromm caused trouble on set because, according to Herb Solow, Gene Roddenberry "hired Dromm so he could 'nail her.'" Trek was in enough trouble, as Roddenberry cast his mistress, Rachel Lee Hudec (aka Majel Barrett), which violated his Desilu "virtue clause." Lucille Ball, embarassed by her former husband Desi Arnaz's well known extramarital antics, insisted on virtue clauses in contracts for creatives.
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As for what happened and why Yeoman Smith never ended up being a regular, we have two different conflicting stories. Andrea Dromm said she had to choose between making Star Trek, or making a film, "The Russians are Coming," and she picked the movie over a less prestigious tv show. Star Trek producer Herb Solow tells a different story and remembers that "Yeoman Smith" was one of two main characters who were let go to keep costs down when the show went to series. The other main character fired? James Doohan as Scotty.
After being informed he was fired after the first pilot, Doohan called his agent, the physically intimidating and formidable Paul Wilkins, who convinced Roddenberry to return Doohan to the series. It is not known how this was accomplished (Herb Solow, who's memoirs are the basis of most of what we know about early Trek, was not present, only Roddenberry was), but Doohan had his job back within the day.
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As for what would have happened with Yeoman Smith if she had stayed as a main character....who knows? The character of Yeoman Rand, well known for her beehive hairdo, was a replacement for her character, so it's likely that Yeoman Smith as a main character would have filled similar roles in stories, probably beat for beat and note for note. All the same however, it's hard to ignore how much more quiet moxie, no-bullshit stares, and extrovert elan Andrea Dromm projected on screen than the more subdued Grace Lee Whitney. Dromm's character was underdeveloped, sure, but so was Scotty and Sulu at that point, and the characters they eventually became were built around their actors' strengths and warmth. It's not hard to imagine something similar might be done with Dromm, and her character might have gone on very different lines from her replacement.
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lurkingshan · 22 days
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10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding
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This wonderful little show has come to an end, and I feel compelled to tell folks why I loved it, and why you should watch if you haven't yet. First, a big word of thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing her excellent subtitles and making this show available to international fans. You can find all seven episodes here, get them while you can!
This drama understands that sometimes we really do want to fuck that old man
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I don't know what to tell you, the man is hot. He is kind, patient, and generous, he's a master chef, he has a beautiful home with a garden that he tends himself, he is a loving dog owner, and on top of all that he has a hilarious dry wit. Who wouldn't want to fuck him??
Ishida is an endearing protagonist having a relatable quarter life crisis
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Ishida certainly does! Which is a nice little revelation for him in a time when he's already struggling to figure himself out, as it's his first time wanting to fuck a man and his work colleague to boot. Ishida has hit a stumble in his original career choice and is feeling pretty apathetic about his job when he meets Mitsuya and gets his world rocked.
Mitsuya is a weary older man who has been burned
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Mitsuya is quite a contrast to Ishida as an older adult who very much has his shit together, but has also survived some deep hurts living as an out gay man and grown reluctant to let people in. He and Ishida both see something in each other that the other needs.
It's a food drama that will make your mouth water
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The food Mitsuya makes and serves to Ishida in this show looks so delicious that I had to make sure I was fed before watching each episode. Mitsuya can feel free to bait me with food any time.
Shige is my idol
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We get to spend ample time at the neighborhood bar, where Mitsuya's old friend Shige serves drinks and hot goss. Shige is a great mix of the wise elder gay dispensing advice and the mischievous trouble maker who likes to stir the pot. I love him, and this show's understanding of the realities of men their age living out and proud.
Frito is a very good dog
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FRITO! I'm not always too hype about pets with prominent roles in my shows, but in this story Frito is an important character and an emotional support to Mitsuya, and often provides impetus for Mitsuya and Ishida to grow closer.
Have I mentioned this show is hilarious
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Truly, so funny. I laughed out loud during most episodes. Ishida is a walking comedy show as he flails through life, and the few moments when Mitsuya's dignified exterior cracks will have you howling.
It gave us one of the best dates I have ever seen on my screen
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I still think about this date all the time. It was so beautifully written to underscore why this couple fits and how they each meet the needs of the other. Just having seen this one day spent together, it's easy to understand how a life between the two of them would unfold.
This show has a mature and nuanced understanding of relationships
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We get deep into the show's perspective on love and romantic relationships via the return of Mitsuya's ex, Kaoru, a plot which the story handles with remarkable grace. I loved the space they gave to Mitsuya's former love and need for closure, and that Kaoru was not treated like a villain. He even got to provide an assist to Ishida!
The main romance feels deep and compelling
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All of this adds up so that by the time we got to the finale, I really believed in this romance and why Ishida and Mitsuya needed each other, and the way the show dug into their hesitations and fears around that was so moving. My only regret is this show is short and we can't follow them to keep watching their lives together, but we got what we needed to feel confident in their future. I will miss them.
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superbdonutpoetry · 2 months
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The Meaning of 'Destruction', 'Condemnation' and 'Accursed' as it Befits the Redeemed in Christ During the Age of Grace
2 Corinthians 5:20Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God. ‘We/’us”: The Apostle Paul and those apostles who acompanied him. ‘You’/’Ye’: Saved and sealed members of His body (1 Corinthians 1:1-2, 1 Corinthians 1:10, 1 Corinthians 1:18). ✨✨✨ Condemned Romans 14:21-23It is good neither to eat flesh, nor…
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heauxvibez · 6 months
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Tension
warning: Smut (+18)
She currently served as a physical therapist for the WWE, her work quickly capturing the attention of the towering 6 ft 3 wrestler. From the moment their eyes met, a spark ignited. Vivid fantasies consumed his mind and he imagined himself held captive in the curves of her thick thighs, her hands helplessly pinned above her head while she begged for his touch.
Although his thoughts of her were lustful, genuine feelings lingered below. Roman's approach, however, focused on the pursuit of feeling her warm, wet walls around him.
Reclining on the table he had specifically ordered for these sessions, Roman's anticipation ate him up as he awaited her arrival. His hamstring troubles had forced him to not perform at the best of his abilities, he was looking forward to the relief her skilled hands would bring to his aching muscles.
As he mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, he was interrupted by her entrance into the room. He watched her appreciatively, taking in the sight of her pretty, black curls claw-clipped into a wild bun, much like his. Soft tendrils of hair dangled near her sideburns. She had done a quick wash and go and was proud of herself for making it look as good as it did.
She exuded a quiet confidence, her small frame enveloped by the vibrant hues of her floral scrubs.
"Thanks again for coming to my house to do this. I know today was your day off," he acknowledged, his voice portraying a hint of gratitude tinged with longing.
"No, it's fine. I didn't have anything better to do," she replied with a soft smile and a shrug. Honestly, if anyone else had asked her to do so, she would’ve immediately denied. But, in this case, every fiber of her being yearned for his presence. She found herself captivated by him, his presence easily invoking a mix of emotions that she struggled to contain.
He carefully placed his phone on the table and flipped onto his stomach. He crossed one arm over the other and laid his head comfortably on top of his arms.
Each time he felt her touch, it felt like electric shocks hummed through his veins. He often found himself battling the urge to pull her close, taken over by the need to explore every single part of her body.
"You know, just because you're here to work doesn't mean you have to wear those little flowery scrubs." he teased, a playful grin dancing on his lips.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and amusement, a nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she dispensed a dollop of oil into her palms, rubbing them together with practiced ease.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of self-consciousness as she prepared to begin.
As her hands glided up the smooth fabric of his basketball shorts, she couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in his muscles. She was sure she was just as tense as him though. But despite her nerves, she focused intently on her task, determined to ease his discomfort.
With each skilled movement of her hands, soft groans of pain and pleasure slipped from him as she melted his knots away.
Her arousal was coursing through her veins, her touch both tender and purposeful. Just touching him was leaving her breathless.
By the time she finished working on his legs, she found herself soaked, her mind reeling from the intoxicating mix of his muted groans and the scent of his skin. She found it almost impossible to resist him.
As he rose from the table, she couldn't help but admire the newfound grace in his movements, the progress they had made together over the past weeks was tremendous. His praise washed over her like a wave, filling her with a pride and accomplishment she hadn't known before.
"Your hands are like magic," he murmured appreciatively with a small grip on her shoulder. His touch sent a shiver down her spine.
"Thanks," she replied softly, another nervous giggle bubbling up from within her as she gathered her belongings, almost running away from the tension between them.
With a final glance, she turned and made her way toward the stairs, the weight of his gaze lingering on her like a caress. As she disappeared from view, she couldn't shake the feeling that it would somehow, someway be a while before she would start heading home.
She found herself lost in the sensual melody of "Earned It" by The Weeknd as she placed the massage oils in the cabinet. She had realized she'd been over to his house a lot more often to treat him, so she figured why not keep them here to maintain his plan of care.
Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but fuss over the loose tendrils of hair, each rebellious strand mocking her efforts. The bobby pins seemed to have a mind of their own, failing to secure the unruly locks in place.
With a heavy sigh, she rested her hands on the cool marble countertop, feeling the weight of frustration settle upon her shoulders. The pressure mounted as she attempted to tame her hair, her fingers fumbling with the stubborn strands.
She paused to catch her breath, dipping her head down and closing her eyes, searching for any sign of composure amidst the sexual tension. Was it truly the bobby pins that troubled her, or was she just frustrated? Frustrated with the way the Samoan man was engraved in her mind.
As she continues to fight her silent battle in front of the mirror. Roman had other plans..
Her heart skipped a beat as strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her into an unexpected embrace. Keeping her eyes closed, she threw her head back, trying to figure out if this was just a figment of her imagination or reality.
"Roman, wait..." she murmured, attempting to break free from his grasp, but his hold remained firm, a silent insistence that she stay.
"Let's not pretend that you don't want me," he interjected with a sly grin, his hands venturing beneath her shirt to explore the contours of her stomach.
She finally opened her eyes, meeting his. The weight of his gaze put her in a trance.
Her breath hitched as he turned her to face him. With trembling hands, she traced a tentative path down his now bare chest, each touch eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him. Pressed against the cool surface of the sink, her senses heightened by the heady scent of his cologne and the warmth of his skin against hers.
With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, she slid his shorts down, her fingers lingering over the tantalizing curve of his hips. As she began to stroke him, his hips moved in sync with her rhythm. The soft caress of her hand had him weak-kneed.
Her pussy grew wetter with each stroke, she couldn't help but softly moan at his easy submission. With a sense of power she had never known before, she brought him to the brink of release, his ragged breaths and whispered pleas urging her on.
“Don’t stop, please,” he whimpered with his eyes locked in on her own. His hands reach behind her, placing them on the counter, knuckles almost turned white at the grip while his precum dripped down her fingers and into her palm. She literally had him in the palm of her hands melting like chocolate.
“Mmm, but you don’t want to finish like this daddy. I know you don’t..,” she moaned while slowing down her strokes. He smirked and so did she, they knew exactly how to drive each other wild.
He grabbed her hand and took her finger into his mouth tasting himself, his precum lathering his tongue. He moaned softly staring deeply into her eyes as he stuck his tongue out and danced it around her fingers.
A moaned escaped her throat as she watched. She had never seen something so sexy in her life and the fact that he was staring into her soul while doing so was enough to make her juices slowly drip past her lips and down her thighs.
He chuckled darkly as he watched her fall into a trance and turned her around to face the mirror. With a hunger, he stripped away her scrubs, revealing the full extent of her beauty in the soft glow of the bathroom light. As he used his teeth to remove her panties, she gasped at the soft drag of the lace against her smooth skin, her body thrumming as he slid off the thin piece of clothing.
With each touch, each caress, she felt herself unraveling in his arms, her desire for him reaching a fever pitch. As he rid her of her bra, she surrendered herself completely to the moment, her body trembling with pleasure as they got lost in each other.
As his hands explored her torso, she basked in his touch, each caress leaving trails of goosebumps.
When he eased himself inside her, she couldn't help but gasp at his girth. It was as if every nerve ending in her body had come alive. His size stretched her in a way that both thrilled and challenged her, almost pushing her over the edge with each thrust.
Roman paused, his movements becoming slow and deliberate. His gaze, dark with desire, bore into hers through the mirror. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the sight of her was so fulfilling.
"Damn, girl," he murmured huskily as he began to move, his hips setting a rhythm that matched the frantic beat of her heart. His thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, building the tension between them to an almost unbearable intensity.
With every touch, every stroke, he worshipped her body as if it were a precious work of art, his hands exploring every curve with a reverence that made her heart swell. And when he finally wrapped his fingers around her throat, applying just enough pressure to send her into a state of euphoria, she couldn't help but whimper.
"Say my name, baby," he growled, his voice a rough whisper.
And as she complied, her voice barely a breathless murmur, he rewarded her with a slow, sensuous kiss behind her ear that left her head spinning and her body aching for more.
"Louder," he demanded, his fingers teasing her clit with a skill that bordered on torture. And as she cried out his name,
"Daddy!" her voice echoed in the bathroom, he knew that he had finally broken through her defenses, unleashing a raw passion.
Their bodies moved together in a symphony, sounded like one too. Her pussy gushed, making the sweetest sound. The wettest sound.
His middle finger continued to move in mind-numbing circles. Her body wanted to crumble forward but he held her throat with a tight grip, a grip that kept her stable.
"Give me my nut baby, it's mine. I want it over my dick.", he whispered behind her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder while he gave her some not-so-gentle strokes.
With him hitting her g-spot and rubbing on her clit, she felt her climax approaching. Her breathes with getting shorter, her curls were sticking to her forhead, and this man was tearing her up.
And when she finally reached her peak, her release crashed over her. He followed close behind, his own climax tearing through him with a force that left him gripping onto her body for dear life.
They stood together in the quiet, their breaths echoing throughout the room. She leaned into his embrace, their bodies entwined, the lingering heat between them melting into a shared warmth as they savored the aftermath.
His lips trailed feather-light kisses along her neck, before pulling away. A soft whimper escaped her lips at the loss, a smile forming as their eyes locked silently.
With a turn, she reached for him again, her arms enveloping his neck, drawing him into an embrace. Their lips met in a deep kiss.
As they pulled away, their breaths mingling in the stillness, he tenderly brushed his thumb against her parted lips.
"How about we go another round, baby girl," he murmured, his voice low and husky. She smiled, feeling her core tingle once more.
"Mmm, I like the sound of that." she hummed in agreement, her voice tinged with anticipation as she leaned in closer to him.
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Hope y'all liked this! Please excuse any and all mistakessss, thanks!!! lololol
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thepopoptic · 7 months
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One cannot be the other.
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NO MORE TEASING
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Pairing : Cillian Murphy x fem! reader
Summary : You’re Cillian’s make up artist and set a ‘professional boundary’. Cillian decides to take what’s his when production is wrapped.
Warnings : Dubcon, fingering, blow job, dominating,
Word count : 1.9k
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“You’re staring again” he grinned at you, those ocean blue eyes eating you whole. Indeed you were. The vanity’s lights illuminated your soft features, your focused expression and most importantly your plump lips which made Cillian’s blood flow like a river.
“I have to stare” you sighed with a blank expression. Your snarky response made him pull a face and you could feel him tugging at the hem of your top, his fingertips slipping underneath to brush against your skin.
“Ouch” he murmured as you continued fanning the brush over his cheeks.
Sighing to yourself, you continued your work. The silence was poetic. Cillian loved just watching you do what you do most passionately. The way your eyebrows scrunched together, how you bit your lower lip and the slight squint of your eyes. Most importantly he loved how you were staring so intensely at him, your undefying attention was stuck on him.
Finishing with one last sigh, you dropped your materials on the desk behind him and took a step back to imply that you were done, your hip poking out to the side a little. Cillian sighed and grabbed onto your hands softly, pulling you back towards him.
“I can’t wait to take you out after production is wrapped” he admitted, a gleeful smile on his lips.
“You say that with so much confidence” you scoffed slightly, pulling your hands free of his grasp after one tug. Cillian pouted as you walked across the room and poured yourself a cup of water from the dispenser.
Context, he asked you out at every chance he got, and a few more times in between that. For some insane reason you declined every time he practically begged you to treat you like a goddess. It was still undecided, if you wanted to go out on a date or whatever it may be with him. Maybe it was the age difference, or maybe it was because you just felt too insecure that he’d let you go mid production. How could you face him after that?
But Cillian was a catch, a charming gentleman who’s succession went miles. He was kind, gentle, passionate, emotional and intelligent. Everyone on set would kill to have a shot with the Irish bachelor. Yet, he was determined to have you, and only you.
People would be able to mistake your cheeks to have red paint on them by the way you would blush crazily every time someone would comment on the way that he looked at you. All of the women were jealous of you, the small town girl that managed to whip an A-list actor with the grace of your smile. Little did they know you were whipped just as hard for the dreamy stag.
“Come here” Cillian whispered, curling his finger towards him to summon you. As you approached him, he pulled your forearms closer to him.
Almost naturally, you straddled him and he stroked your cheek as he hummed. Neither of you could resist having another sneaky made out session. It almost felt like destiny with how you two had an empty trailer together. Tugging on each other's hair and rocking your hips over his, your tongues were fighting for dominance. Cillian won, effortlessly. These risky moments were fun, but the finest moments were when you talked emotionally and intimately to one another, discovering each other’s souls, developing a strong spiritual relationship with one another.
Suddenly, there was a bang on the door and a production worker called Cillian to set. You pulled away from him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “You should go” you mumbled, brushing his hair back and wiping his lips with the back of your thumb.
“You’re such a little tease, you know that right?” Cillian chuckled as you slid off of him.
“Guilty” you smirked and opened the door before he could try to make another sneaky move on you. Cillian sighed heavily and stood up, he stood before the open door and looked you up and down slowly, his hand brushing yours that rested on the door before leaving without another word.
Then just like that, the production was wrapped. Your work with Cillian was done, but you were still trying to figure out if your little affair with him was over as well. Liking Cillian was an understatement, you were passionate about him but the ideas of the media as well as your personal relationships frightened you. You wished you could just run away together, be free from the world, have peace with him. But that would never be an option.
There was a celebratory party with the cast and other production workers. Cillian urged you to go with him, but you declined his offer multiple times. He even offered to skip the party and take you out instead. But you forced him to enjoy himself with his friends. The idea of being with him, intoxicated, intimidated you. What if he just took advantage of you and left you without another word. No, he wouldn’t do that.
Here you were instead, comfy on your couch with an empty bottle of wine and a second half full, as you watched your favorite sitcom. Your head rested on your propped arm on the couch’s arm.
You couldn’t help but to miss Cillian despite it only being a few days. The two of you were still messaging, but he has to get ready to move to a different production set. You missed the way he’d admire you, that thick enchanting Irish accent of his, looking into his mesmerizing blue eyes. Perhaps you did want to give it a shot, give him a shot, even though you weren’t exactly sure what he wanted to offer you. But hey, when else will you get an opportunity like this?
Occasionally you’d look down to your phone and read the messages Cillian was constantly sending. About how boring it was and how he just wanted to be with you. The wine made you feel a bit cheeky.
You just want to fuck me.
The seen mark appeared immediately. But the typing box didn’t appear, you watched the screen until it turned dark. You couldn’t help but to feel anxious, and a bit hurt over being left on read. Tempted to message him again, you chose not to and turned off your phone, trying to focus on the show instead.
Almost an hour later, you were dozing off to sleep when there was a knock on the front door. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over to the door, who was here at this hour? But then your heart raced with excitement and suspense that it could be him.
You got up, brushed your hair back and waddled over to the door. Opening it slowly, your suspicions were confirmed.
“Hi” Cillian whispered, gently swaying by the door, he leaned against the frame as he smirked to you.
“Cillian” you gasped lightly, looking him up and down. He did look charming, the way his trousers snatched his waist and how his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
“I couldn’t stop thinking of you” he confessed, looking at your body slowly down.
“Cillian” you repeat yourself, in a warning tone this time as he stepped inside your flat. “How did you even know where I lived?”
“I have my ways” he shrugged his shoulders, his hands caressing your hips, a gentle moan escaping his lips.
“You’re drunk” you said sternly, but he didn’t care.
“So are you” he countered, his eyes quickly darting over to the bottles of wine on the coffee table.
Exhaling, you took a few steps back but Cillian took as many forward twice as quick. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall with Cillian breathing by your ear. The scent of Guinness heavy on his breath as his hands slowly but firmly run up and down your torso.
“Cillian” you whispered, slowly looking up to him.
“I like the way you say my name, but I think I’d like the way you scream it more” he groaned, a wide grin on his lips.
The passion sparked off each other as you crashed your lips together. His cold hands excited your nerves as he ran them up and down your skin underneath your top. Lightly moaning into his mouth, Cillian’s groin pressed against your abdomen, slowly humping against you. His erection was tenting in his jeans already. His hands grabbed the sides of your face as he began rubbing his groin against yours. You moaned out, eyes slowly rolling back.
“Get on your knees, love” his tone was quiet yet stern.
You fell to your knees quicker than you thought you would. Naturally, you obeyed your sexual desires and ran your palms down his crotch. He gave a gentle nod of approval as you unbuckled his belt. Assisting you to tug his jeans down enough to free his member, you gulped at his size. The room was dimmed but you could feel the veins that wrapped up his length.
“Come on, be a good girl” he encouraged you, stroking your cheeks.
Doing as he said, your lips wrapped around his size. A slow hiss echoed through the hallway as you took him inside your mouth, more and more. With your tongue wagging around underneath his cock, his hands slipped into your hair, guiding you to go at a quicker pace. You opened your eyes and he was staring right at you, his mouth ajar open as his fingers gently massaged your scalp.
“That’s right, taking my cock like a good little whore” he spoke in a slow low tone.
His words shocked you. You would have never guessed him to say such a vulgar thing so openly. Your eyes widened with uneasiness as he patted your cheek. Attempted you pulled your head back, you were stopped by his hands, holding you in place with a wicked grin on his lips.
“Always getting me all hot and bothered right before shooting. Such a fucking minx, torturing my fucking cock” Cillian growled, picking up the pace so his cock was hitting the back of your throat. It was impossible not to gag on his size, your jaw beginning to act at his thrusts.
“Almost there” Cillian mumbled. Shortly after that, he fulfilled his promise and shot his ropes of white right down your throat. You didn’t like semen, it tasted foul, so you whined at the taste as he held your head down on his size until you struggled to swallow it all.
Cillian pulled you back up and pinned you against the wall once more. A harsh kiss was planted onto your lips. “I won’t fuck you, not yet. I’m a gentleman, I want to make it romantic for you. But I do need to feel you, right now” he hissed, his hand slipping into your bottoms.
The sudden touch to your clit shocked your nerves and you moaned. There was this animalistic sound that came from him as he felt how soaked your cunt was. Easily, his digits slipped deep into your canal.
“Cillian” you moaned out his name over and over again.
“You like my fingers eh?” Cillian smirked, his thumb circling over your clit.
Biting the inside of your lower lip, you were trying hard not to come undone right there and then. But the both of you knew how quickly he was pushing you over the edge. Sucking onto the side of your neck, your thighs squeezed his hand as you screamed out his name. Your orgasm was a tsunami, you struggled to stand straight, but Cillian made sure to hold you up.
With a huff, Cillian slipped out his wet hand and grabbed onto your cheek with the same hand, making you look at him.
“You’re mine alright? No more silly games, no more teasing, no more denying me. You’re going to submit to me, you got it?” Cillian ordered.
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ventique18 · 1 year
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Papa 🐉 with triplets HCs
When going overseas for official duties, he prefers not to be cooped up in that weird iron bird creature (it's an airplane, hun). So he instead flies to the country in his dragon form. Imagine people's awe when this gigantic, magnificent creature lands gracefully, lowers his head down carefully, and out of his mouth hops not one, not two, but three little dragons. They're so tiny you could swear they're cute little dogs.
He always goes to meetings clad in heavy robes. More often than not though, his mysterious cloak has a peculiar feature: it produces three sets of giggling voices every once in a while, especially when the room goes deadly silent.
Once an hour passes though, three little tykes get magicked out of the cloak like how a bunny hops out of a magician's hat. The wyrmlings like to climb on and off papa's back and munch on his horns. Everyone could only glance in amazement at how strong their Majesty's neck muscles must be to withstand the weight.
The three siblings still have very small wings but would always attempt to fly. 🌸 always almost has a heart attack when they inevitably come crashing down from their disproportionate weight, but 🐉 would save them the last second with his magic. He'd laugh loudly and hug 🌸 to reassure them none of their babies would get into accidents while he's alive.
I say accident because the three would frequently get hurt on purpose anyway. Their parents don't understand why, but one of their hobbies seem to be beating each other up in any way they could think of. 🐉🌸 would often wake up in the dead of the night because one sibling hurled another off the bed, simply because he/she was hogging 🌸's chest apparently. 🌸's chest is their favorite snuggle spot.
While 🐉 frankly doesn't have all the time in the world, he strictly employs a 8-5 work hour like a regular person. He doesn't really mind working but ever since he's started a family, he believes this is finally his god-given grace so he'll do it properly. His spouse is very capable in assisting him so they never really had problems with this arrangement.
So he likes to be closer to his babies and feeds them personally while it's still normal. He kinda just force-feeds them mashed food with a spoon in a row though. "Can't you make it more fun? Like, open wide, here comes the flying broom!" "I am simply not a sappy person." "You feed me while saying cheesy shit though..." "I cannot very well say those kinds of things to my children."
When he bathes them, he makes them line up and dunks them into a pool one by one. When they're in their dragon form, he scrubs them with a brush like he's doing laundry.
He hangs them on a clothesline to dry them on a sunny day lmao. "What are you doing to our babies??" "What? They enjoy it." Fair enough, the little gremlins are giggling.
When 🐉🌸 gets one those snazzy refrigerators with a water faucet and ice dispenser in front, the siblings like to sit on top of each other's shoulders so they could steal ice cubes for themselves. Or lap at the running water like thirsty dogs.
Grim has dedicated water bowls all over the place because he finds it hard to pour from a pitcher, and the feral siblings actually prefer lapping from those than go to the refreshments table to fetch a drink. The first time 🐉🌸 saw this, they were so shocked they kinda just stared blankly.
"Are... Are they actually dogs..." "I do not know, at this point." "Did you do this too when you were little?" "We did not have any semblance of a pet so I do not think so." Lilia reveals later though, that 🐉 drank from the damn toilet once.
He likes teaching them all manners of things. He gets a bit too intense sometimes though, what with them failing over and over again on what he thinks to be simple tasks, so 🌸 has to remind him gently that they are not him and shouldn't ever be him. He lets up and smiles. Yes, this is what children are supposed to be.
He legitimately doesn't have any ounce of experience with fatherhood and was suddenly thrust with three, so 🌸 honestly thinks he's a bit clumsy when it comes to taking care of them. Really clumsy and callous, actually.
But when 🌸 chances upon their three babies curled up against him, with him napping soundly and still holding an illustrated book on gargoyles and their history (goodness, he never changes), they thought he wasn't so bad after all.
Thinking harder about it though, what with him carrying the weight of the country while carrying the weight of three chubby babies and a feral cat, he might be the best father ever, after all.
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What is the role of good works in salvation according to the New Testament?
This is a great question! There are many who are so confused regarding good works and salvation in the New Testament. Let’s get into the Bible and find out exactly how good works and salvation should work together. We must first start by recognizing that there are two dispensations in the New Testament. Simply read the book of Acts, where the apostle Luke leads us out of the Kingdom dispensation…
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